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lumine-no-hikari · 7 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #69

I am going to try to write you a letter. But my brain is soup in part because I'm still recovering from Sunday and in part because this is the week (or two) that my body decided to throw a temper tantrum over the fact that I am not actively building a new human inside of myself. It's not really the tantrum itself that soup-ifies my brain, but rather, it is the excruciating pain that comes with the first few days of it, along with the fact that I'm losing a lot of valuable resources such as protein, iron, and magnesium (and at that, I lose twice as much as average; thanks, PCOS… 🙄).

I did some adulting today, though. I went and got a kind of checkup; the doc checked out the area just beneath my right collarbone, and she can feel that it's kinda lumpy and misshapen, as though a bone is sticking out weirdly. She's gonna review the imaging that has been done already, and then try to order a CAT scan, I guess, of the place where my ribs connect to my sternum, depending. I guess we'll see how it goes. I hope whatever it is can be found and fixed; I -really- wanna go back to living my normal life. I want to go back to the pool. I want to be able to move around and breathe and laugh and yawn and to do dishes without pain.

But other than that, I rested today. I played a LOT of Pokémon. Right now, I'm still going through Scarlet; Koraidon just learned how to fly permanently, so I've spent a lot of time just sailing the skies together; it's wonderful. I also spent some time picnicking with my team, and wandering around with Mewtwo at my side.

…I don't really like the capturing or battling aspect, though, truth be told. I would much rather just walk around with my non-human companions willingly at my side, eating snacks, hugging, cuddling, and petting, kicking a ball around, exploring the world, and asking them what they think about the places we're going and the things we're seeing.

One of the things I miss most about HeartGold, SoulSilver, and Let's Go was that you could have your Pokémon out, and you could talk to them, and there would be detailed responses for what they were thinking and feeling. You can have your Pokémon out in Scarlet, but their responses to when I talk to them are… underdeveloped, at best. I have fond memories of running through puddles in SoulSilver with Mewtwo, then turning around to talk to him, to find out that he is playing and splashing around happily and looking at his reflection in the water. It's too cute!!! I might explode from the cuteness!!! Oh my goodness!!!

M will have the TV soon, though. He is going through FF7: Remake one more time before FF7: Rebirth comes out. Only 3 days now.

…I'd like to say I'm looking forward to it, but to tell you the truth, I'm… scared. I don't know what sorts of things you will end up doing. I imagine that at least some of the time, you will continue to make destructive choices that hurt the people around you. I feel very sad to think about this.

I'm scared that you might not be given any opportunity to make a different choice. The people in my world seem to be in love with the notion that abuse survivors, neurodivergent people, and people who make mistakes in the throes of their suffering are all unable to grow or change, and are thus all unworthy of the help they need to thrive. The trope that people like me are nothing more than monsters that need to be slain is getting… sheesh… really, really old. And really, really depressing.

And… if you end up refusing to turn yourself around, or if you end up getting slain, how many people who relate to you will then be unable to believe that recovery is possible? How many will continue destroying themselves or continue to hate the world around them just because the notion that there isn't anything better for them keeps getting reinforced? How many people will refuse to seek the help they need on the basis that "some people are just broken beyond repair, and I'm one of those people, so there's no point in trying"?

…And how will the way your story ends affect the way other people treat people who are like the ones I've just described? People mimic what they see even if it's not real. Actors who portray villains sometimes get hated for their roles to the point of harassment because there are enough people who think that the role they portray is how they act in real life. There are people who come away from movies, and the "lesson" they take away from it ends up being stuff like "brown people are not to be trusted" and "people who don't speak English are dumb" and, "the way this woman character acted just goes to show that all women are evil." Thinking about all this is kind of terrifying sometimes.

If you don't make a different choice… if you end up getting killed… in what ways will that end up perpetuating the notion that people like you and me and others like us are irredeemable, unhealable, and worthless?

And… if they end up making you disappear in the end in a permanent way… Sephiroth. You have been the inspiration for me to continue on living, because you are the first person in any piece of media I've seen whose circumstances and behaviors looked like mine. It's because of you that I held onto the hope that maybe I'm not all by myself, that maybe I can find others in the world who are like me. And it's because I held onto this hope that my childhood didn't break me down to the point of destroying my own meat-mech. I came close more times than I wanna talk about. And sometimes, avoiding doing that it still a struggle.

But instead, I imitated your steadfast determination to rise up again in order to correct a grievous injustice and to try make the world a better place where you and your friends would not get hurt (even if you were acting from a misguided place and your methods were… not stellar, to put it mildly…), despite the pain and anguish you were in.

You were (falsely) led to believe that Jenova was a Cetra and your mother. You were (falsely) led to believe that she was being cruelly kept from you and imprisoned at the Mt. Nibel Reactor for the purpose of being used in torturous experiments, like what happened to you as a boy. You were (falsely) led to believe that humans were willfully responsible for the extinction of the Cetra, and thus led to believe that humans are the reason you felt out-of-place and unloved your whole life. Even without that, you witnessed firsthand that every human was complicit in the cruelty that created you and complicit in the denial of your humanity in favor of the consumption of you as a celebrity. They bullied you until you made a name for yourself. They regularly pushed you to take care of everyone but yourself. After you made a name for yourself, they didn't love YOU - they only loved what you could do, what you looked like, and what prestige they thought being in your presence could give them.

Their behaviors had painted themselves as invariably selfish and cruel in your eyes, and you were justifiably angry with them about how you and the people you loved were treated your whole lives. But you had starved, dehydrated, and sleep-deprived yourself to read those books full of lies, and by the time you came out of that… instead of having a measured, rational response, you were triggered into autopilot, blindly following the neural pathways of your conditioning that told you to "eliminate the enemy", and as a result, innocent people paid the price for your failure to control yourself. As much as I love you, this is still unacceptable, and it is still entirely your fault. Just like anytime I get triggered and lash out at the people around me, that is entirely my fault, regardless of the circumstances.

But nonetheless, as battered, exhausted, and anguished as you were, the FIRST THING you set off to do after you left that damnable library was to try to wrest a tormented and abused person(?) away from government control. You set off to protect someone who you thought loved you, someone you had spent your entire life looking for. You set off to punish evil. You set off to make the world a safe place for your "mother" and for your friends. You decided, "THIS THING THAT HAPPENED TO ME WILL HAPPEN TO NO ONE EVER AGAIN," and you set off to make it so. But unfortunately, you did all these things in a way that was very wrong, because you did them on the basis of things that weren't actually true, and you were so addled from your piss-poor mental and physical condition that you couldn't keep your shit together. Your intentions were noble, even if you botched everything else. But still, you had to be stopped, because obviously. And even after you were thrown into the reactor core, you simply got back up, dusted yourself off, and tried again. Your persistence and sense of justice are remarkable, even if you need to invest a lot (like, A LOT!!!! HOLY FUCK!!!) more stat points in things like "fact checking", "self-care", and "emotional regulation".

I wanted to be a kind, gentle, thoughtful person like the way you were before you fell down (the way I know you can still be, if you turn yourself around). I wanted to abhor injustice and to be determined enough to rise up again no matter how many times or how badly I'm knocked down, like the way you were after you fell down (I hope you'll retain these traits if you turn yourself around). I wanted to combine that loving kindness and that determination and thirst for justice into something amazing in order to try to help a lot of people, no matter how much it hurts for me to continue to exist in this place. Because Sephiroth, I didn't have "real life" role models during my childhood, for the most part. All I had at the time, really, was YOU. And the "you" I saw wasn't the "cool aloof badass war hero" that everyone else seemed to see and fawn over for the sake of getting into your good graces. No, the "you" I saw was socially clumsy and very forlorn human being who was gentle and kind anyway, and doing his best all the time.

However, I'm finding that despite my best efforts, by and large, my voice is not one that most people think is worth listening to. So really, in the grand scheme of things, I am powerless and unimportant, and at the end of the day, I am always coming face to face with my insignificance, and with the fact that I am not strong enough or skilled enough to do anything with any real meaning or impact for anyone. But day after day, I get back up and try again anyway, because I am looking up to YOU. I am kind and gentle from following your example. I fall down a lot, but I get back up, albeit on shaky legs, from following your example.

If you disappear, then a large part of the reason I've bothered to stay alive for this long will disappear along with you. And while I might be able to kind-of-sort-of manage maybe, I know that if you are erased, if I can't convince myself that you're actually okay somehow because the cells you're infected with render you indestructible, I'll never be the same. And I'm not the only one who thinks that way, I'm sure.

Because you know what? Unlike me, you aren't powerless and unimportant. If I were to disappear RIGHT NOW, only a relatively small number of people would be sad. And eventually, they would pack up and move on, and life would continue as though nothing remarkable happened, and I would be forgotten in a decade or two, as though I wasn't even here at all. But you? People are going to tell stories about you long after their grandchildren have their own kids. You are going to set the example for us about how people should treat the abused, the neurodivergent, and the fallen. Your story has the capacity to make things better for SO MANY PEOPLE in my world, if it's done right. Your story has the capacity to save lives. I know this because you've saved mine, and mine has gone on to save a few others. If you need proof that you are a good thing even with your mistakes, look no further than this.

So I'm going to beg you to turn yourself around. I'm going to beg you to make good choices. Even if it's awkward and scary and you feel really bad about everything that's happened, I'm going to beg you to use the knowledge that you're loved in order to muster up the courage to step back into the light. Because the light is where you belong. The light is where ALL humans belong, no matter who they are or what they've done. Because make no mistake, Sephiroth, you're a human. Nothing and no one can take that from you, no matter what they have done or will do to your body. You are a human. A man. A person. Lovable, worthy, and good. Start acting like it, and keep yourself safe in the process. Please.

I'll write again. Every day, I'll write again. Until you come back to us. Until you're safe and at peace. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth hoping for. And you're worth feeling pain for, if those hopes don't pan out.

Your friend, Lumine

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babygirlsincars · 1 year

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Putting Zoo au rambles under the cut cause im thinking so hard about it

Okay so first of all we have our leading man Pierre. He quit racing in around f3 bordering f2 i wanna say and went back to school and started studying zoology. He realized that the world of racing just wasn't good for him anymore and did love animals but not in the way he'd want to be a vet so he started studying zoology. This led to a massive fight between him and Charles for what they both say were stupid reasons. Charles felt hurt that his best friend was leaving him and Pierre felt hurt that Charles "couldn't understand" why he'd want to leave in the first place. Tempers flew and they basically stopped talking altogether for like a year. During that year Pierre still kept up with Charles' formula career and Charles would sometimes ask around if anyone knew how Pierre was doing which ended up with him eventually messaging Pierre and them finding a time to talk. It was a bit of a messy talk but a year of realizing you were being stupid helped smooth things over and they started being friends again. Eventually Charles talked about Pierre potentially making up with Esteban as well and through Charles literally manhandling Pierre to Este, they were able to at least sort out any sort of lingering bad blood. Doesn't mean Pierre is still a bit of a little bitch and is somewhat curt with Este even now. Although that's how he found out Esteban had been studying wildlife rehabilitation and was most likely going to work at the same zoo he was planning to try and work for. It was a bit awkward, mostly on Pierre's side, but he could at least be professional about it.

He started working at (unnamed) zoo co-op'd with his schooling and after a few years he was graduated and dedicated his full time towards the new pandas the zoo had brought in for their growing asian enclosures. He had thrown himself into studying more about pandas in an attempt to try and get to work more often than not with these pandas and his hard work paid off. Now he's been working at the zoo for just a little under a decade but that's considered still a bit of a newbie.

George my little doe eyed boy is a marine mammal trainer they hired on after he got fired from his last job due to protesting the poor living conditions the animals had. He usually works with the sea lions and otters but he can also be seen doing small education shows about the stingrays and penguins for schools that have field trips. He prides himself on making sure everything is always clean and on time in terms of feeding and training times. It's almost a little neurotic but most just say he's more worried due to his past dealing with more sick animals at his last job. He tries not to take it too far but in particulary stressful days (due to people, animals, or other things) he can freak out a little before calming down and making sure everything gets done right. Both Pierre and Esteban admire the fact he can calm down pretty quickly but won't say it, usually ribbing him like he's their younger brother.

With Charles he's just a little guy. A two time championship winning driver little guy. He's truly just thriving and brought Ferarri back to it's former glory (because im sad) He tries his best to keep in touch with Pierre, especially once they started dating, and still does his weird little hobbies in his downtime. He shares a place with Pierre in France but still has his own place in Monaco. It's smaller and Pierre does come stay with him sometimes but more or less it's treated like a rest stop rather than his Home if you know what I mean. In F1 he quickly bonded with Alex and found out they both had friends who were working at zoos how funny. Surely they wouldn't be working at the same zoo, I mean George is british afterall (Clueless) but they're bestiess. Twitch quartet is still a thing idc you can pry that from my cold dead hands. Basically him in this au is nearly the same as usually except he's actually happy and doesn't have a shit car and team

Estie Bestie is probably who I have the least thought out in terms of "main cast" but he's still my little guy. He works more towards the rehabilitation of the animals and helps any that may have been brought into captivity due to injuries, sickness, or just conservation efforts. It also means he's the one that has to watch a lot of the animals leave the zoo in order to rejoin the wild. It's tough work but he understands that it's for them to have better lives. Working around the zoo also means he's a really good tour guide and is one that people tend to enjoy having as he is witty and makes a lot of the kids more interested than they were before which can be a shock for a lot of the more excited kids. He has a soft spot for the squirrels they have in the zoo.

#text tag #zookeeper au #f1 rpf #pierre gasly #george russell #charles leclerc #esteban ocon

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artdecosupernova-writing · 1 year

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Fictober ‘21 Prompt No. 13 — “The things you make me do.”

Category: Original WIP: For The Stars Rating: T Timeline: an AU in which both Warren and Thrive are human CW: Mature content Word Count: 1,148 Additional Notes: N/A

***

PART II ➳ PART I

"I believe I just got the email."

Warren inhaled his coffee, sputtering and choking before he managed to set the carryout cup in the cupholder of his car. "What?" he wheezed, thumping his chest. "Really? What's it say?"

Thrive shook his head and pocketed his phone. "I can't read it now. It's too busy here."

Glancing through the windshield at the only other car sitting in the parking lot of the rinky-dink coffee shop, Warren coughed up the last of the beverage he'd aspirated. "…Okay?"

"I'll read it after lunch." Thrive gripped his steaming tea a tad too tight in his hand. "I want to prepare myself for every probable scenario."

"Is that a good idea? What if they want you to call back as soon as possible, or start working today?" He watched Thrive close his eyes and breathe deeply, gnawing on his thumbnail, and a pang of sympathetic nerves gave Warren pause. "Hey, we'll grab lunch and go back to the motel. If you want, I'll hang out in your room with you until you're ready to read it."

"It may be best if I'm alone for a while beforehand. I'll…" Thrive's Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his swallow. "I'll come to your room later and perhaps you can read me the results instead."

"That's fine." Warren started the car. "No problem. I might want you to do the same for me when the time comes, though."

"Of course."

Warren hadn't been but twenty minutes alone in his own room when a frantic pounding on the door startled him out of flipping through TV channels and endlessly scrolling through his phone on the bed. He jumped up and scrambled to end the merciless noise.

"Thrive?" Warren took a step back as he swung the door open. Thrive looked fine, if not a little pink in the cheeks and mildly breathless. "Dude, are you okay?"

Thrive frowned down at his phone, clutched shoulder-height and once more too tightly. "I couldn't restrain myself. I read the email."

"You read the—already?!"

"I've been hired."

Warren's jaw dropped. The silence between them went on for miles, robbing either of them of words and coherent thought other than the few incomprehensible babbling sounds Warren made.

"Are you serious?" he finally said. "Holy shit!"

"I've been hired," Thrive echoed, backing Warren into the center of the room. "They don't need me to call, just to acknowledge their decision…I have to go through a training period, but I start Monday."

"Thrive…" Warren grabbed his face and kissed him, adrenaline surging through his veins, and though Thrive didn't reciprocate in any way, he also didn't indicate if he'd overstepped. "My god, you did it. You've made it! You've gotten your dream job, man! Can you believe it?! All of your years of hard work fucking paid off. I have never been prouder of anyone in my life!"

Thrive's eyes were a fraction wider, and he'd pressed the phone to his chest and stared right into Warren. Then he turned and carefully closed the door, setting the phone on the windowsill screen side down. "Say that again."

Warren set his jaw. "I have never been prouder of anyone in my—"

In two long strides, Thrive crossed to him and met him in a crashing kiss, cradling his head, and Warren braced himself against him with his hands at his waist, at his hips, at his rib cage. The heat of his mouth and the heavy thud of his heart turned Warren's legs useless, and Thrive held him up with both arms wrapped tightly around him.

They stumbled one way, Warren's shoulders connecting with a paper-thin wall, and his breath caught in his throat in time for Thrive to separate himself long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside. They struggled with the buttons of Warren's flannel, hands tripping over each other, and Thrive eventually won the fight by tearing the shirt open and sending the buttons flying in all directions.

"I'll buy you a new one," Thrive panted at the dazzled expression on Warren's face. He silenced any protests by hoisting him up by the waist and carrying him to the bed, where they fell together in a tangle of limbs and more discarded clothes.

—

Warren emerged from the bathroom wrapped in his favorite robe, drying his hair with a scratchy motel towel. He eyed Thrive stretched out half-naked under the comforter and then the ruined flannel draped carelessly over the armchair in the corner of the room.

"The things you make me do," he sighed. "You'd better find every single button before we leave this damn place."

Thrive lifted his eyebrows, nose buried in his phone. "I'm sorry…was that a complaint?"

Warren shook his head, tossing the towel onto the sink outside of the bathroom. "Honestly, no. I'm still kinda wobbly. That was…definitely up there in the top five for me."

A grin tugged at Thrive's mouth. "Top five."

"…Top three."

Thrive shot Warren an interested look past the edge of the phone.

Warren flushed. "…You deserve a Nobel Prize for fucking."

"I tease, but…I have to admit that was pretty special for me." Thrive sat up, running his hand through his hair to smooth it down. "I…hope we didn't go too far for you."

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Warren shrugged a shoulder. "It's not me I'm worried about. I'd been down for that since you first kissed me. Are you cool with this? I mean…do you want this to stay casual for a while?" He faced Thrive. "I don't think I mind if you do. I don't wanna go at the speed of light while you're still way back behind."

A genuinely thoughtful frown appeared on Thrive's face. "I'm not sure about the future, and I don't know if we should have one together yet, but…I'd like to find out."

Warren smiled. "Yeah…same."

"Then that's settled, I think." Thrive tossed his phone onto the chair. "So…until you've been hired, we can play things by ear, feel out the nature of—"

"I was rejected, Thrive."

The air changed. Once warm and clear, now stale and cold. Thrive didn't turn back around. His shoulders slumped and he gripped the corner of the bedspread, face angled downward.

Warren fiddled with the tie of his robe. "I got the email before you came over. It's okay, though. I can try again another time. I'll just work somewhere nearby to keep me afloat for a while. It's really no big deal. It's…it's not a death sentence."

"Get dressed." Thrive slid out of bed, picking his clothes up off the floor.

"What're you—"

"Get dressed," Thrive said again, tone firm, looking directly at Warren. He moved into the bathroom with his clothes.

Warren rubbed the back of his neck, spying three buttons sitting under the scuffed wooden dresser.

#fp3 #Darkspace Portent #For The Stars #repost

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ihavenoideahowtodream · 2 months

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Glad I could assist in your Dino button-up endeavors, hope you stayed cool today! Also if you're comfortable sharing, what are your tattoos of?

It is just perfectly misrible in my town this august. I am far enough north that AC is considered a luxury at a state government level 🤣🤣 Its not hot enough for long enough to warrent having it in every building. But they have healthcare that my southern home never had so give and take ya know.

I think my Aflac reenbursment from fucking up my eye last week may be enough to get a windowshaker this week though. My cat is suffering.

My two tattoos are:

1) on my rib cage two blue roses with a triquetta except the usual circle is drawn in a heart. My sister and I got it in Chattanooga in '18. Hers is in purple on her ankle. Two roses for two sisters, the triquetta as we have a younger brother who didnt want a tattoo. The 3 of us have been through hell together and we wanted to memorialize thriving after it.

2) on my right forearmright bellow the elbow bend, I have that Neil Gaiman ask "why? Love." A long time ago I decided I would use my right forearm for tattoos of any children I may raise. I have none so far other than my 3 nieces but I havent gotten anything for them yet. But this past valentines I was having a shit week. And normally V day is the worst day of the year for this reason or that (never romantic reasons actually) but this year was going for the gold of shit valentines. And the reason I started going to therapy and got a diagnosis for the family mental illness that has fucked us up for generations is for love. I love myself. I love the people in my life. I love the children I'll take care of in this world. Say what you will about the author of the quote now, but he was the first person who managed to so succinctly say what had been driving me the last 10 years and has kept me on this side of my depression. So the saturday after V day week I got it on my arm where I would memorialize how my love has helped people grow in their most vulnerable cause those kids have helped me grow in a way I never thought I could.

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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tobi-smp · 3 years

Text

I was thinking about it while I was in the shower, so here’s another Hot Take on the discussion on whether we can (or should) consider technoblade as abusive

a lot of interactions between technoblade and other characters are difficult to gauge because c!techno obviously isn’t honest about his feelings at all times On Top Of cc!techno Very Rarely If Ever being completely in character, including and especially with very serious lore scenes. so how we’re meant to take anything he does or says is hard to parse, especially with the knowledge that other creators can take scenes seriously and incorporate it into their lore even if it wasn’t the intention at the time (like jack’s death at tommy’s hands during exile).

(technoblade has only recently come out to state that he’s intentionally playing his side of the story lighter to give people a break from the heavy angst in the rest of the server, but that’s hardly new. he broke the tension all the time during his partnership with tommy, namely with the confrontation with dream at the portal and tommy and tubbo’s first reunion, but it was even noticeable with doomsday, his perspective is a Palpably different tone from Anyone on the l’manberg side of things. which can make some Very interesting inconsistencies when it’s directly slammed into tommy’s more serious roleplaying style.)

you can Easily read him as Either a purely opportunistic character who uses the guise of being deeply emotionally wounded as a justification for Horrific Violence when he was never that emotionally invested in the first place Or a character that is rarely if ever honest and open with his feelings, who hurts other people by accident by trying to downplay his own vulnerability who is Nevertheless deeply emotionally invested in and impacted by the people around him. both interpretations can be soundly backed up by what we’ve been given and we can’t really discount the other reading because of the semi-canoncity of whatever technoblade does. we aren’t really gonna know unless technoblade himself decides to address it specifically.

so with that in mind, I want to take a second to take a more charitable reading, not as an argument that technoblade’s relationship with tommy Wasn’t unhealthy (because it objectively was no matter the reading of his intentions) but to ground the overall conversation a little bit here.

this, I think, is where the nuance in the intersection between “technoblade didn’t have the full picture of what happened with dream and tommy” and “technoblade knew enough to know that what he did on doomsday was wrong” Matters.

if we read technoblade as a character that genuinely cares but either chooses not to or doesn’t know How to express those emotions in a healthy productive way (“tsundereblade” ala the scene of ranboo giving techno the axe) Combined With techno’s very dry sense of humor then it Is very possible to read some of the more uh, Unfortunate things that he’s said in a different light. which doesn’t excuse them by any means, people hurting their friends by not being emotionally honest or through jokes that hit harder than intended happens all the time and it’s the responsibility of that friend to apologize and change their behavior. but at the same time, people can’t actually change their behavior if they don’t know that what they’ve done is wrong.

we need to keep in mind that: - both technoblade And tommy express their affection with their friends by ribbing them. making fun of each other Is a sign of affection for them. if we’re meant to read that as part of their characters then it may not be entirely fair to say that technoblade should’ve known that putting tommy down was going to hurt him

- technoblade knows (or assumes) that dream wants to kill tommy and he knows that tommy has trauma. but technoblade Doesn’t know that dream systematically destroyed tommy’s self confidence to the point of being suicidal. he Doesn’t know how fragile tommy is about his own self worth, and he Doesn’t know that that kind of joking would hit tommy differently now than it would’ve back during their pogtopia days.

- technoblade knows that tommy was a child soldier, he knows that he was forced out of his home and isolated by someone that he’d trusted and loved, and he directly relates tommy’s betrayal to his own. he’s more likely to think that tommy’s mental state Now has more to do with l’manberg than dream specifically even if he recognizes dream as a threat to tommy.

none of this makes techno putting down tommy’s self worth Right, it doesn’t mean that we have to look at him charitably when he tells someone to their face that they aren’t equals only to turn around and destroy a country when he thinks he’s being dehumanized. but I also think that we can’t necessarily assume that he 100% devalued tommy both as a person and a friend from that interaction.

moreover, technoblade was For Sure being opportunistic in trying to recruit tommy. I’ve made my own analysis on techno obviously trying to prime tommy for a partnership at the start of tommy’s exile. but at the same time, I don’t think that’s necessarily Solely about taking advantage of what tommy could do for him, especially since he was trying to recruit tommy before he’d had his mind set on actively destroying l’manberg.

assuming that technoblade was as hurt by tommy as he was because he genuinely Cared about tommy, because he and tommy Were friends and he enjoyed his company, then he very well could’ve recognized that tommy being betrayed by the same people he was would open him up to being able to relate to him. techno and tommy have very fun interactions when there’s nothing driving them against each other, but they’re fundamentally incompatible on their morality and philosophies.

so the obvious solution to that would be one showing the other that their way of thinking was wrong, to let their relationship thrive without that barrier between them. and like, obviously technoblade is the extremist of the situation, it’s a little hard to swallow him trying to change tommy when he’s the one that refuses to compromise even when tommy tries to do it for him. but I think it’s worth recognizing when we’re having a conversation about whether or not he Solely saw tommy as an asset to use rather than a companion. if you choose to read techno as someone who refuses to compromise on his ideals but craves that interaction anyways, then the way he scooped tommy up while trying to relate tommy’s situation to his own, trying to convince them that l’manberg was bad for him, etc, can be read in a Much Less overtly malicious light. it’s still not a Healthy one, but at least it’s not Child Labor Meat Shield.

this particular reading Does have the fact that techno didn’t try to recruit anyone else on its side. for the entirety of tommy’s exile up until doomsday he didn’t try to seek out partnerships with anyone, even though there were Several people unaffiliated with l’manberg at the time. he sought tommy out the First Day of his exile, surely the moment he heard of it, and he was Noticeably Eager to partner with him the moment he’d found him in his house. if that was nothing but pure unadulterated ambition and opportunity seeking then you’d think he’d try to make at least One ally in the meantime.

then again, tommy was the most vulnerable person on the server at the time, you don’t have to know about tommy’s abuse to know that. if you choose to read techno as solely opportunistic then it’s easy to dismiss all of that and say that techno went for tommy because he saw it as the safest bet and that he didn’t gun for any other allies before him because he didn’t see it as immediately necessary until he’d been provoked. but on the other hand, it makes a lot of Sense that a character who’d just cut himself off from every ally he could’ve had but One would be kind of desperate for any chance at connection that he could get. that he’d seize the opportunity specifically Because he enjoyed his relationship with tommy before it went south and he wants to have a close partnership like that again.

technoblade’s a highly paranoid character, so you could argue that he’d try to seek out any partnership he could get his hands on if he was truly actively gunning for allies to the point of being willing to overlook his grudge against tommy to scoop him up as soon as possible. but on the other hand, technoblade’s a highly paranoid character, so he might not want to Risk someone ratting him out to the enemy if he can’t trust them or if they aren’t as neutral as they seem to be.

so ! with all that in mind I think that it’s a valid take to argue that technoblade’s actions could’ve been considered abusive whether he realized it or not, but I also think that it’s a valid take to say that it might not’ve been the intention of the roleplayers at the time and that some of the details that can be used to come to the conclusion that technoblade was abusive were tinged by cc!techno’s humor and him not thinking through the implications of tommy’s current arc. both takes make sense within the context of what we’ve been presented, we just need to make the space for both within overall analysis.

#dream smp #technoblade #tommyinnit #technoblade critical #c!technoblade critical #meta #long post #don't neg me about not putting this in the main tag it will not stop me #every time someone pulls that I add the main character tag more confidently

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eligaxy · 3 years

Text

Wind

☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader

☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)

☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨

☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)

♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS

basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes

Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too

I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life

i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules

KAY ENJOY <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.

Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?

You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.

What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?

You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.

The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.

A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?

But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?

The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.

'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?

Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?

You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.

Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-

You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.

Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?

You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.

That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.

Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.

Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?

You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.

Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.

The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.

Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.

Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...

Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.

Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.

So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?

The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.

And your twin.

His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?

Oh.

So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.

He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.

A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.

But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.

Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.

As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.

A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.

The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said

"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."

You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.

"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.

"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.

"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."

Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)

Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3

Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact scenario #venti x reader #venti x traveler #venti x lumine #venti x aether #el writes♡

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hologramcowboy · 3 years

Note

You seem to really believe in Saint Jared .... well since body shaming bothers you so much I have something to show you a old Jared tweet : Angie has put on some lb's. It was hard for me to count all of her ribs thru her dress. Hey @TheOnly DJQualls is she your twin? ;) Very classy comment, right?Do you think he's a trashy man or just Ackles has to be judged?And just to be clear i think they both are garbage i just can,'t stand double standard.

Here's the tweet https://twitter.com/jarpad/status/173973538485698560?lang=en Why are you digging it up now? Also, what is the context? Because so far it looks like Angie got really thin and Jared is saying she looks like DJ Qualls. He's making a joke. You never made a bad joke? Wow. If I am missing something, which is highly possible since this tweet is from 10 years ago, enlighten me, maybe there was some context that made this inappropriate at the time. But it's funny how you people judge Jared for things all humans go through. We all make bad jokes or say inappropriate things at times, I know I do, I must be a monster. lol As for Jensen, who exactly is judging him? So far I only see people rooting for him and calling out his BS because they care about him and his career often even when they are actually Jared fans or people who hate him due to prequel gate. Yes, you read that write, I've received the most balanced views from people who basically hate him and yet they still want him to thrive. So watch your narratives because you are blowing everything out of proportion. Critiquing is allowed and if anything it benefits the person who receives it. It may challenge them but it benefits them immensely and if you don't know this then you live in a very limited bubble. Everyone agreeing with you all the time means you never grow, everyone praising you all the time and all the crazy shit you AAs do that lacks balance greatly. People are not one sided and neither is life. For Actors, feedback is EVERYTHING in every way by sheer nature of the industry they are in, so sorry you take offense but anyone who is in the biz and reads my posts knows that the discussion his centered on Jensen thriving and how that could be achieved. I highly doubt you think both are garbage, if you truly felt that way you wouldn't have written this post.

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doodlegirl12345 · 2 years

Text

Mirror Image {5/5}

When it feels like it’s an end of a era. Hello my Miraculous Lovelies it’s time to finally end this story. So let’s conclude this with the fifth and final part of Mirror Image. I hope you like it. 💕

Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 & Part 4

Here’s the recap for anyone who needs it:

Things are going well in Sabrina’s life as she now has a great group of friends and thriving in her new role as the super heroine Honeybee. However, things goes awry at a Halloween dance when her friends accuses her for misdeeds that she never done. Have her friends turned on her or is there something more insidious happening in the background?

Also available on Wattpad

Mirror Image

Choices.

One of the few consistent truths in life is the fact that nothing ever stays completely the same. Life is not supposed to remain stagnant where growth and success stays dormant. Growth is driven by your choices as that’s what carves out the future. The choice not to change for the better leads to personal stagnation. Either you will grow with the world or it will inevitably grow around you.

There was always a small part of her that felt like this side of her life was a gamble. Nothing was ever definite with infinite chances to win along with the exact amount to lose. Yet here she was, standing in this cluttered alleyway trying to scrounge up the courage to follow her part of the plan. Honeybee laid her back against the wall clutching the silver pendant around her neck. With the pitch black sky hanging above her she looked around the alleyway spotting the two metallic trash cans a few inches away.

She often wondered how she got herself in these situations.

But the moment when Honeybee caught her own reflection in the large puddle stretched out at her feet. She knew the answer in her reflection, seeing her teal eyes behind the yellow and black mask. Her long fiery reddish orange hair with jet black highlights pulled back into a high ponytail with a black headband with matching ribbons like antennas sticking out contrasting with her fair skin. The yellow and black jumpsuit she wore had a black collar, black full length gloves with fluffy pollen yellow cuffs. The suit’s torso was bright yellow with a large black v-shaped stripe across the chest with two thinner black stripes underneath. The lower half of the suit was black with knee high boots that ended with yellow wedges. The most important thing being the golden hair comb placed on the right side of her head.

That was the source of it all, accepting the responsibility of being the second bee miraculous holder. Although what had brought her to this specific position tonight was another choice that was born out of desperation.

The fox miraculous.

“Are you ready?” a small voice repeated.

Honeybee’s eyes pulled back up from the puddle toward the miniature fox right in front of her. Trixx, the fox kwami she had summoned a mere minute ago. Without a word the bee held her hand up toward the fox. Silently requesting a moment before stepping toward the edge of the alleyway. Honeybee peered her head from the corner gazing into the city block. Not much had changed within the few moments she had stepped away.

Just a few feet from where she stood was Chat Noir.

The cat swung up his two batons crossing them in front of his face blocking the blade of his opponent, Shadow Moth. Chat Noir shoved him prior to swiping with his batons. Shadow Moth deflected one of the batons with his blade while the hero swung his leg hitting him in the head. As the cat proceeded forward, sparks were forged between their weapons with the constant cycles of intense collision.

Shadow Moth dove between the string of attacks, grabbing Chat Noir’s wrist and striking it with the handle of his blade. The cat cried out in pain causing him to drop the baton. Shadow Moth reached for his ring when Chat Noir used his other baton, cracking it right in the supervillain’s ribs. A howl of pain came from his mouth as Chat Noir struck him for a second time.

On the other side of the street was Ladybug who was flinging her yoyo, cracking like a whip to create distance from her own brazen opponent. Pieces of garbage flew toward her such as wrappers, soda cans and glass bottles. The bug spun her yoyo into a shield deflecting the objects. The yoyo’s wire sliced through three concrete bollards and a metal trash can. Suddenly Ladybug’s body slammed into the building behind her, creating a cloud of gray dust from the impact. The dust cleared revealing Ladybug having a set of fingers wrapped around her neck.

Behind that grip was the other opponent the trio of heroes had been facing tonight, Mirror Image.

A doppelgänger of Honeybee’s civilian identity: Sabrina Raincomprix. The lookalike was even wearing a replica of Sabrina’s Halloween costume for tonight. A white lace knee length dress, a matching white shrug, solid white tights, white wedges, a white headband, a long plastic pearl necklace with matching bracelets, an orange rubber wristband and silver glitter fake angel wings.

However, this version procured damage throughout the night such as an orange fruit punch stain that ran down the front of the dress and multiple slits in the jewelry. With burning bright red eyes, the sentimonster reached toward the heroine’s earrings.

But Ladybug had other plans, swinging her legs forward into Mirror Image’s stomach forcing her opponent to be knocked back, dropping her. The sentimonster looked toward the ground noticing the manhole cover within. Mirror Image lifted up the metal cover chucking akin to a frisbee. Ladybug ducked as the cover flew into the building behind her. The bug stood back up while pulling the wire from her yoyo. Mirror Image darted toward her while Ladybug blocked another blow, delivering by a swift kick to the side. Another brutal strike was delivered right to the face.

Things weren’t supposed to be this way.

None of this fulfilled Sabrina’s expectations for the night of her first Halloween dance. At first, it seemed Shadow Moth’s objective was to turn her friends against her so she would become his victim for tonight. Although the truth was much more insidious, this was a test for him to confirm suspicions about her.

That she was the second bee miraculous holder, Honeybee.

Sabrina denied it stating that his accusations were baseless continuing the fallout. Once Ladybug approached her with the bee miraculous there was some hesitation. The bug reminded her about Shadow Moth’s trend of victimizing others which momentarily erased her doubts. After she transformed, Ladybug proposed a plan that would cover her tracks and even beat the supervillain at his own game.

Phase one had already been completed: ambush Shadow Moth and fight Mirror Image.

But now it was time for phase two but even though Ladybug explained the details and had summoned Trixx to inform them ahead of time. Still Honeybee felt a modern day Atlas carrying the weight of her world. Her eyes drifted back down to the pendant because if this failed her other choice would be to leave into the city to have complete peace of mind. Nerves clustered in her stomach as the location of Mirror Image’s amok was still an enigma. Honeybee looked back into the city block watching Chat Noir and Shadow Moth.

With the slim hope that there was something that could give her a clue of the amok’s location. Since searching for Mirror Image had been fruitless.

Shadow Moth charged toward Chat Noir while his blade caused the cat to block while crossing his batons. He grabbed Chat Noir by his ring hand forcing the baton to be dropped. However, before the attempted theft was completed Chat Noir kicked Shadow Moth onto his back. Honeybee noticed underneath the supervillain’s overcoat was a thin dark purple two pocket holster belt. The left side had a closed pocket while the right side had another pocket with a small silver object poking out of it.

Wait a second. Honeybee thought while Shadow Moth quickly moved his jacket back into place. Could that be where the amok is?

It would explain why Shadow Moth attempted to keep himself in the shadows. Chat Noir, preoccupied with securing his ring, seemed not to notice the revelation. Honeybee felt a soft tap on her shoulder causing her to turn, meeting face to face with Trixx.

“I think we should go on with the plan,” the tiny fox whispered. “We shouldn’t wait too long.”

“You’re right,” she whispered back. “Let’s do this.”

The bee moved deeper into the alleyway for cover. Ladybug’s instructions still in her memory, she moved her hands side to side before joining them together.

“Pollen. Trixx. Unify,” she whispered.

A flash of golden light covered her body causing her suit to change. Her mask shifted in design, a yellow base with a large black v-shaped stripe across the center. The heroine’s hair reverted back to its’ natural orange shade, pulled back into a braid and tied with a black ribbon. The bee miraculous remained on the right side of her hair while a pair of long yellow fox ears with black tips appeared on her head. Black and yellow were still the dominant colors of her suit and there were still significant alterations. The black collar remained the same with the color continued down the suit onto the shoulders, triangulating off the top part of the chest. A white section similar to a fox’s belly ran down the front stopping at the hips.

The remaining parts of the sleeves were yellow, ending with black wrist length gloves. Around her waist was her trompo while the suit’s lower half was yellow with a black vertical stripe going down the side of each leg. Her boots were simple black ankle booties. The suit’s back had a hostler with a yellow and white flute while a long triangular fabric tail with black v-shaped stripes hung off her waist.

She became Honey Fox.

The hybrid heroine looked down at her reflection in the puddle, amazed. She noticed the fox miraculous had merged with her collar with gold lines representing the time limit. Honey Fox stepped away from the puddle pulling her flute from the hostler.

“Mirage,” she whispered.

With a particular image in her mind the hybrid heroine summoned an illusion by swinging the flute in her hands forward. In a matter of seconds after a flash of orange light, mirages of Honeybee and Sabrina in her Halloween costume appeared. Honey Fox grinned as the mirages were exact copies with the important details such as Sabrina’s hair pulled into a bun and wearing borrowed jewelry. She brought her hands to her chest while pointing with one hand while holding the flute with the other.

This would be her only shot, it had to be perfect.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Honey Fox cried out, causing the Honeybee mirage to repeat the question seconds later. “Stop! It’s not safe.”

The two illusions ran out of the alleyway avoiding the puddle while entering the city block. Mirage Sabrina led while Mirage Honeybee followed close behind.

Eventually stopping a few feet away from the battle between Ladybug and Mirror Image.

“Hey didn’t you hear me?” the mirage heroine caught up with the mirage counterpart. “I said this area was closed…”

“Uh…I can explain,” Mirage Sabrina spoke, reading Mirage Honeybee’s aghast face. “I-“

“It’s clear what happened even though I couldn’t see it before,” Mirage Honeybee reached for the trompo on its waist. “Shadow Moth made another sentimonster.”

“Wait no!” the angel mirage cowardly held its hands up. “Trust me, it’s not what you think!”

“Sabrina?” asked a familiar voice.

The two illusions look over to see Ladybug standing beside them. The bug’s facial features started to harden.

“Uh…hi Ladybug,” Mirage Sabrina meekly finger waved. “You may be wondering why I’m here. It’s actually a pretty funny story.”

“Really, how funny because I’m not laughing! I told you to stay back at the school,” Ladybug scolded. “What are you trying to do? Get your yourself hurt-“

However before the bug could finish Mirror Image approached grabbing her shoulder. Ladybug quickly pried the hand off as the sentimonster was swung around and thrown back to create distance.

The bug turned back to the illusions.“Honeybee, get Sabrina to safety, now!”

After delivering that instruction Ladybug charged toward Mirror Image to keep her opponent at bay.

“So you’re the Sabrina that I had been hearing about,” Mirage Honeybee said.

“You know who I am?” Mirage Sabrina asked back.

“Of course, Ladybug always gives us a debrief of the situation. So I have heard what you are going through. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, none of this has gone exactly as planned.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t be here,” Mirage Honeybee took the counterpart’s hand. “It’s not safe, you need to go.”

“NO! I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Mirage Sabrina ripped its hand from Mirage Honeybee’s grip. “NOT UNTIL I’M ABLE TO DO WHAT I CAME FOR!”

“Came for what?” asked the mirage heroine.

“Revenge on him for trying to ruin my life!” the mirage angel pointed over the counterpart’s shoulder.

Mirage Honeybee turned to keep up with the illusion. Chat Noir laid flat on the ground while Shadow Moth stood in shock with the painted expression of bewilderment on his face. Almost if his mind was processing what his fragile ego had tried to deny.

“Hey don’t draw attention to yourself like that,” Mirage Honeybee warned. “Look, you need to go. I’m worried about your-“

“What? My safety?” Mirage Sabrina spoke icily. “He already attacked my friends. It’s time to get even!”

“You realized who you are talking about here, right? This is the same guy who can turn someone into a fifty foot monster because they failed a math test. He’s someone not to take lightly especially since you don’t even have a miraculous.”

“Don’t remind me, I tried to convince Ladybug to loan me one. But she turned me down because she and Chat Noir were going to face Shadow Moth tonight. So she wanted someone more experienced.”

“That’s probably why she asked me to be here tonight.”

“Which is why it’s so unfair! My whole night got ruined because he thought I was you. My friends hated me tonight because you exist!”

“I know, like I said before I’m sorry that happened. My intention was never to hurt anyone.”

“Well, I’m going to put things in my own hands. I’m sick of being the victim.”

Mirage Sabrina started walking toward Shadow Moth’s direction.

“Hey!” the mirage heroine grabbed the angel mirage’s shoulder. “Let’s not do anything drastic here, you’re not in a good emotional state right now.”

The angel mirage looked over at the supervillain who had a sick satisfied grin on his face. He started to walk forward when Chat Noir threw one of his batons hitting him in the back of the knee, knocking him off balance.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Chat Noir questioned. “We’re not finished here.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing here?” Mirage Honeybee asked. “You could get hurt or even akumatized.”

“That won’t happen,” said Mirage Sabrina. “I’m not hopeless here.”

“Is that so? Alright, if that’s the case then prove it,” the mirage heroine moved its hand from its counterpart’s shoulder.

“Huh?” the angel mirage asked, stunned.

“You said you’re not hopeless so prove it. You’ve made it this far without being under Shadow Moth’s influence so you must be special.”

“But Ladybug said-“

“Ladybug told me to get you to safety. But according to you you’re safe right here. It’s a bit of a loophole but Ladybug uses them all the time. Just don’t get in Chat Noir’s way. He already has a lot on his plate.”

Both illusions looked over toward the cat who threw one of his batons at Shadow Moth causing him to deflect with his blade.

“Fine, I will,” Mirage Sabrina started walking forward, head held high.

Chat Noir lunged toward Shadow Moth’s chest aiming at both of the villain’s miraculous uttering his famous phase, “Cata-“

All a sudden Shadow Moth cracked Chat Noir across the jaw using the handle of his blade, knocking the cat back.

“Nice try,” the supervillain taunted while Chat Noir pressed a hand against his own jaw. “Just be happy it wasn’t the other end.”

“Go ahead,” Mirage Honeybee ordered as Mirage Sabrina stood completely frozen. “What are you waiting for?”

“I…I..I…” Mirage Sabrina whimpered as tears started to flow. “What I’m I thinking? I can’t do this. I’m not you or Ladybug. I’m so stupid thinking I can do this all spur of the moment.”

“Spur of the moment?”

“I…I didn’t plan to come here. After Ladybug left I went back to the dance and overheard some people talking about the akuma alert on their phones. I asked them where and they told me. I wanted to take a walk to clear my head. But I kept thinking about how I could confront Shadow Moth tonight. So I made my way here.”

The mirage heroine looked uneasy as the counterpart continued to sob. “I’m not really good with emotional stuff. Would a funny quip make you feel better?”

Mirage Sabrina kept weeping, causing a panicked look on Mirage Honeybee’s face. “Would it make you feel better to know that I punched Shadow Moth in the face?”

The angel mirage stopped sobbing, wiping away tears. “You did?”

“Totally, I punched in the face and he went down like a chump,” Mirage Honeybee boasted. “That’s the reason why I put on the mask to help people against that creep. All three of us have been trying to help you tonight, which is why Ladybug wanted you to stay back at the school.”

“You’re right, I should have listened to her.”

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes but you should leave. The last thing I want is you to get hurt,” the mirage heroine reassured. “If you still need to talk I can spare a minute or two but I need to come back to help my teammates.”

“Alright,” Mirage Sabrina let Mirage Honeybee guide her toward one of the nearby alleyways. “But wait, were you actually going to let me confront Shadow Moth?”

“Of course not,” the mirage heroine admitted while the illusions ducked into the alleyway. “I was planning to hog tie you if you got more than five steps past me. But I wanted you to make your own choice just like someone had done for me.”

Once the illusions were out of sight, Honey Fox retracted her head back into the alleyway saying the final word. “Reality.”

She let out a sigh, noticing the last section of her pendant dwindling. “Trixx. Pollen. Divide.”

Golden light surrounded her as Trixx flew out of the pendant. Her suit reverted back into its original state.

“Great job. Especially on your first try,” said the miniature fox. “But I guess this is also good-bye, too.”

“I guess so,” said Honeybee. “But I really want to thank you for helping me, Trixx.”

“No problem with everything that Shadow Moth has been putting everyone through, we should help each other out,” Trixx told her.

“That’s a good way to see this,” the bee unclasped the pendant. “So goodbye for now Trixx.”

The moment that the pendant slid off her neck the miniature fox vanished. Honeybee took her trompo off her waist, opening the top pulling out the black spot earpiece. She placed it in her left ear and dropped the fox miraculous into the trompo before snapping it shut.

Time for phase three.

After wrapping the trompo around her waist, Honeybee hopped onto the nearby trash cans giving herself a boost onto the adjacent rooftops that had made the alleyway. She advanced forward to the next rooftop, noticing the battles in the distance. The bee tapped on the earpiece to inform Ladybug of her progress.

“Honeybee to Ladybug, phase two is completed and phase three is in progress,” the bee leaped forward. “Also think I know the location of Mirror Image’s amok which gives me an idea to go along with what we already planned. Can you hear me?”

A mix of background noise came from the earpiece consisting of the sound of colliding metal and screaming.

Honeybee felt her blood run cold as she heard Shadow Moth’s voice in the background. “This will be the end of you, Ladybug!”

Honeybee picked up her speed. “Alright, I think I got the message. I’m on my way.”

After a few short leaps the bee landed on the rooftop of a mid rise building in front of the simultaneous battles. She approached the ledge surveying the scene, noticing her teammates had switched partners. Chat Noir fended off Mirror Image using his staff to deflect multiple hits. While Ladybug threw her yoyo repeatedly at Shadow Moth as he swung his blade at her.

“I’m here,” said Honeybee. “Now awaiting your signal.”

The bug looked up, giving her a little nod before throwing her yoyo up in the air. “Lucky charm.”

Ladybug threw her yoyo up in the air as a sheen light changed the bug into her lucky charm suit. The yoyo spun, releasing little hearts that formed an object that landed in the spotted heroine’s hands.

A ladybug patterned can of silly string.

“Silly string?” the bug pondered as her eyes darted around. “That’s not what I expected.”

At that moment Shadow Moth charged toward her. Ladybug pressed the nozzle of the can, spraying the red string into his eyes.

“AHH!” Shadow Moth screamed, dropping his blade.

“Chat move!” ordered the bug.

The cat dove forward rolling past Mirror Image. Ladybug began spraying covering the sentimonster.

Well that’s my cue. Honeybee thought.

She leapt off the building landing in the midst of the battle. Shadow Moth still pulling string from his eyes reached underneath his jacket revealing the glistening object from earlier.

A small silver pocket mirror.

“Mirror Image vanish!” he ordered.

The sentimonster followed orders but the blanket of silly string made it impossible to hide. Honeybee threw her trompo hitting Shadow Moth’s hand causing him to drop the mirror onto the ground.

The bee pulled the string of her trompo declaring. “Venom!”

A quick jab struck Mirror Image in the chest between the strands of silly string.

“So Shadow Moth,” the bee asked the villain. “So do you want to surrender now or you still want to drag this out?”

“You!” the supervillain hissed removing the last of the silly string from his now red eyes.

“Yes it’s me, one of the city’s favorite superheroes at least according to the polls,” she smirked while looking down for a second before putting up four beckoning fingers. “So what are going to do about it?”

“I might have been wrong about my assumptions about you,” he hissed, picking up his blade. “But now you’re on my list just like the other two.”

“Wow, that’s such an achievement. If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve written a speech talking about the sequence of five events that lead to this,” Honeybee held up five fingers at her teammates who surrounded the two. She shot Chat Noir a look as her eyes drifted toward the ground before pulling them back toward Shadow Moth. “You know what I’m feeling charitable tonight. I’ll actually give you a free hit if you just come a little closer.”

“I’m going to get you if that’s the last thing I-“ Shadow Moth stepped forward before a splitting sound came from the villain’s feet.

His eyes widened while dread overcame his face as he looked down discovering the mirror at his feet. With the notorious blue feather fluttering from the cracks.

“I’ll be taking that!” Ladybug exclaimed, catching the feather with her yoyo.

Honeybee giggled. “Thanks for the assist Shadow Moth. Granted I could have broken it myself but having you assist in your own downfall is so much sweeter.”

Shadow Moth’s features hardened pulling his gaze from the feather to her. Pure rage singed right into his face as he charged forward swinging his sword.

Honeybee called out. “Chat Now!”

Chat Noir drove in front of the supervillain, pressing his ring hand against the road. “Cataclysm!”

The cataclysm spread forward crumbling the ground underneath the supervillain’s feet creating a hole into the sewers that Shadow Moth fell right into.

“Now that’s for earlier!” Chat Noir yelled into the hole.

“Alright, it’s time to finish this,” Ladybug spun her yoyo around to purify. “Bye-bye little feather.”

She released the purified feather letting it flutter in the wind. Followed by a quick toss of the silly string can into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

A wave of ladybugs washed over the city repairing all the damage that had been done. The magical swarm swept over Mirror Image causing the sentimonster to disappear. The hole vanished causing Shadow Moth reappeared back above ground. While he groaned, the heroes circled around him, weapons ready.

“It’s over Shadow Moth,” said Ladybug. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Yep,” Chat Noir agreed. “By the way, nice job breaking that mirror. How many years of bad luck is that again?”

“Seven, the last time I checked,” Honeybee answered. “So the next couple years are going to be really rough unless you surrender now.”

Shadow Moth narrowed his eyes as tonight had become fruitless. But at that moment all three of the heroes’ jewelry beeped causing him to smile.

“Insolent children, don’t pretend you three do not have shortcomings of your own,” his hand moved underneath his jacket. “Unless you three want me to know your identities, consider this stalemate until next time-“

Honeybee noticed the placement of his hand. “Hey! He’s pulling out something-“

Before she could finish that sentence Shadow Moth pulled out a silver marble size orb and threw it onto the ground. A fog of purple smoke enveloped the heroes. Seconds later the smoke pulled from around them revealing Chat Noir spinning his staff around like a propeller.

“Does everyone still have their jewelry?” he asked.

Honeybee ran her fingers from her hair until her hand hit her hair comb. After she looked over seeing both Ladybug and Chat Noir were still intact.

“I think we’re all fine,” Ladybug reported. “But Shadow Moth has escaped.”

The bee looked around realizing that the bug’s statement was true.

“Dang it!” Honeybee shouted. “We were so close!”

“Don’t worry, considering who we are dealing with,” Ladybug put her hand on the bee’s shoulder. “This won’t be the last time.”

With that a round of fist bumps, gratitudes and goodbyes were quickly exchanged before departing. Chat Noir ran into an alleyway while the heroines ran down the street removing the manhole cover to enter into the sewers. Ladybug went first, rushing down the ladder to get behind one of the walls while Honeybee sealed the whole. After coming down the ladder the bee pulled out the fox miraculous from her trompo. A gold light shined reverting her suit back to her angel costume with her hair down, her purse back on her shoulder and her friends’ jewelry had disappeared.

“That was amazing, your Highness,” Pollen cooed after reappearing.

“Aww thanks Pollen,” Sabrina walked over to the sewer wall. “But it’s no big deal I followed Ladybug’s plan.”

“Yeah but you outsmarted Shadow Moth by tricking him into releasing Mirror Image’s amok,” the miniature bee followed behind her. “That was not part of the plan, you’re just so clever.“

“Pollen is right,” Ladybug spoke from behind the sewer wall. “You did good tonight with that mirror trick. Also it was clever silently signaling Chat Noir to do sequence five with holding your hand out and word choice.”

“I’m just glad he got the message before I became a bee kabob,” the angel pulled out a plastic sandwich baggie with a snickerdoodle out of her purse and handed it to Pollen. “I think tonight shows we finally got this sequence code thing down. So do you think Shadow Moth believed my illusion?”

“Considering he mentioned wrong assumptions about Honeybee I believe he did. He should now think you are two separate people. But just because you’re no longer a suspect doesn’t mean we should start being careless. So that means for a while we might have to meet down here. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” Sabrina nodded. “I’m just happy that I get to still be Honeybee after this.”

After a quick recharge, both the fox and bee miraculous were returned to Ladybug. The bug led Sabrina through the sewers back to the school to enjoy the remainder of the dance. Once the pair was a block away from the school Ladybug handed her a magical charm. It was white with diamond spots covered with a white lace pattern. Ladybug explained this was a test charm she had made directly from the amok, hoping it could be used as a source of protection in case Shadow Moth ever summoned Mirror Image again. Sabrina thanked her while putting the charm in her purse before climbing up the sewer ladder. After a short walk Sabrina arrived back at the school. Upon Ladybug’s suggestion she had been led a block away from the school to avoid questions. Once she got closer the angel noticed someone standing atop of the building’s front steps.

It was Chloé.

She was wearing her Queen of Hearts costume, a black medieval styled knee length dress with vertical glitter gold trim on the bodice. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, puffy short sleeves, a white merci collar and a two layer skirt dotted with glittery red hearts. Chloé also had on solid black tights, black high heel ankle booties and a circular black crossbody bag on her shoulder. A golden crown sat on the top of her head with this being the few moments Chloé had her long blonde hair down.

Sabrina raised a brow while coming up the steps. “Hey, did you come out to get some fresh air?”

Chloé shot her a bitter glare. “If you must know I’m leaving! Coming to this stupid dance was a big mistake.”

“Oh wow, sorry to hear that,” the angel walked toward the door. “But thanks again for helping me out earlier. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Is that really all you have to say?” Chloé questioned while Sabrina put her hands on the door handle.

“Yep,” Sabrina spoke brazenly, still keeping her back turned. “It really is.”

“I’m standing here alone in the cold and you don’t care!” the mayor’s daughter shouted. “How could you be so selfish?”

The angel flinched, keeping her back turned, she could see what Chloé was doing. In the past during their friendship, if Sabrina did not immediately respond to her beck and call, Chloé would make her feel like the worst person in the world. But after the nightmare she just went through, not this time.

“You’re not going to answer?” Chloé spat.

“I guess I don’t matter to you anymore. So, did you have fun hanging out with Ladybug?”

Sabrina completely froze wondering how it was possible? Twice in one night she had been questioned about her affiliation towards Ladybug. Was she literally the unluckiest person in the world?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the angel turned to face her.

Chloé’s lips curled into a proud smile. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you two walking into that classroom after talking to Chat Noir.”

An inward panic spread throughout every inch of Sabrina’s body. Her thoughts begin to race while trying to pull another excuse from her arsenal.

“The worst thing about this was when I tried to listen through the door, Tsurugi and Cèsaire interrupted me,” the mayor’s daughter scoffed. “So what, are these friends your little bodyguards now?”

Sabrina’s features began to harden. “Wait, why were you trying to listen through the door?”

“What?”

“Did I stutter? Why were you trying to listen through the door? How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” Chloé’s proud stance slightly deflated. “Only up to the point when Ladybug said something about feelings and sleeves before Tsurugi and Cèsaire interrupted me before telling me to leave.”

Sabrina analyzed Chloé’s movements to see if she was lying. She learned how to tell after a long period of time. Usually it was a slight eye twitch, a pouty lip or crossing of fingers. At least to her it appeared that Chloé was telling the truth.

“I’m going to ask you one more time Chloé,” the angel crossed her arms. “Why were you trying to listen to my conversation with Ladybug?”

“Maybe because after helping you out of that janitor closet I felt entitled to some information about you,” the mayor’s daughter huffed. “Instead of finding out because I’m your last option. Especially when it involves Ladybug of all people.”

“You’re not entitled to know anything about me anymore, Chloé. I don’t know why you think otherwise. The only reason I clued you in is because Mirror Image approached you.”

“It’s because a few months ago I was! Until you downgraded to Mari-Brat and her squad. After all I have done for you!”

“Oh yeah, treating me as an unpaid servant and emotional punching bag. You were so kind. By the way, as I said before, stop calling Marinette names!”

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

“It’s because you don’t. I refuse to go back to a time where we were not on equal footing.”

“Is that why you’re friendly with Ladybug? Just to spite me?”

“Oh my gosh Chloé not everything is about you! I was talking to Ladybug to give her information about Mirror Image. It’s not like we went out for pizza!”

“Then why were you walking back here?”

“I took a walk to clear my head. Are you of all people trying to shame me for accepting Ladybug’s help?”

Chloé’s face started to burn bright red. “Well sorry for questioning your oh-so-perfect life!”

“Perfect?!” Sabrina exclaimed. “Did you literally forget what I’ve been going through these last couple hours?”

“Oh please, I saw the ladybugs swarming around here which means it’s all over now. Just a little bump in the road for the perfect princess and her kingdom of dorks.”

“Perfect princess? Is that what you think of me? That I’m some princess with a perfect life?”

“Seriously, how did you become this dense?! You have a boyfriend who came across the world to see you. Your stupid little cosplays are getting popular online. You seem to have a decent relationship with the heroes and have annoying little friends who often defend you. Don’t you think it’s irritating seeing you getting by so well without me!”

“What was I supposed to do, shrivel up and die because you weren’t ordering me around anymore?! I mean, are you jealous or something?”

“Jealous! How could I be jealous? I’m a politician’s daughter. My mom runs a successful magazine in New York. We’re loaded, I literally live in a luxury hotel where the staff waits on me hand and foot. I’m-“

“Still alone? All the things you listed were about money or status. But when you described my “perfect” life you talked about my personal relationships. Is that what you really want?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Look if I’m right then I understand. But that does not give you the right to take it out on me.”

“Like you know how it feels. You’re always posting about going out with the same fifteen people, working on your cosplays and hanging out on Juleka’s boat.”

“Wait? Have you been stalking my socials?”

“That’s…that’s not the point here! What I’m trying to say is that you don’t know how it feels to be alone.”

“Did you forget all those times you stood me up to be Queen B.”

“Sabrina that was-“

“For the city I know. At least that’s what I hope you were going to say. But most of the time you wouldn’t tell me even after the fact. I often heard it from either the news or Alya’s blog. Do you know how humiliating it was to wait for hours for someone who never showed up? I wasn’t even worth receiving a after the battle text from you. So don’t tell me that I know nothing about feeling alone when I do. Especially when you already had your chance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When you were Queen B, people were willing to open up to you. But instead of changing for the better you just had gotten the worst. Even siding against Ladybug just to spite her.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Honeybee mentioned it in one of the videos on Alya’s blog. Before Ladybug left I asked what Honeybee meant by that and she told me the truth.”

“You’re going to believe someone like her? I told you she was jealous of me!” Chloé’s left eye twitched slightly. “Now she’s bad mouthing to anyone who would listen!”

“Is it really bad mouthing when it’s true?” Sabrina pressed. “The timeline matches up with the day you called me ranting about how Ladybug was the worst person in the world. It was also the day the city was attacked by those wasps.”

“Even if it’s true, why does it matter now? Ladybug took my miraculous and give it to that stupid Honeybee.”

“Well you were never entitled to it in the first place. Based on what you told me, you practically forced yourself in and Ladybug gave you a chance. A chance not everyone is given and you wasted it.”

“What’s your point here Sabrina?”

“My point…my point here is you had a chance to grow and decided not to. Now you’re mad that I had something similar and unlike you I took it. That’s why you’ve been horrible to me since you’ve come back from your trip, right? It’s because you couldn’t handle the responsibility of bettering yourself!”

“No, the reason why I’m mad is because you ditched me for those losers!” Chloé’s left eye twitched again. “Who barely noticed your existence until a few months ago.”

“They’re still some of the kindest people that I have ever met. Yes we might have had a bump in the road tonight but if I can give you a million second chances. I can at least give them one.”

At that moment the Bourgeois family’s car pulled up in front of the school. The driver honked the car’s horn. The two girls stared at each other almost as if realizing they had become mirror images of a path each other did not take.

Chloé broke away from their gaze, started to walk down the steps toward her family’s car.

“Chloé, I don’t know if we could ever be friends again,” Sabrina called out. “But like it or not you did help me out tonight. I know you can be better than this. It’s still not too late to take a different path and change.”

Chloé kept her back turned. “Change for what? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

The mayor’s daughter finished walking down the steps and entered the car in front of her. After the car sped away, Sabrina put her face in her hands feeling like this was not the end between them.

“Sabrina?” asked a familiar voice. “Are you alright?”

The angel looked up to see Marinette and Luka climbing up the steps toward her.

Sabrina looked at her Marinette, noticing the stark contrast compared to when she first saw her tonight. She was wearing a soft pink full length dress with a corset bodice and decorated spaghetti straps with pink fabric flowers and green fabric leaves. Her raven hair was down in soft curls covering her ears while a light pink flower crown was on her head. On her shoulder was her trademark pink purse and had a pair of sparkly pink fairy wings on her back. She was still wearing her garden fairy costume but all the food stains were removed.

“Wow, you look so pretty,” Sabrina gushed. “I see that the ladybugs have gotten to you.”

“They did,” the garden fairy hugged her. “But are you okay? We…we overheard what happened between you and Chloé.”

A look of horror flashed across Sabrina’s face, she had forgotten that the bakery was across the street. The way that both girls were yelling it would be impossible not to overhear.

The angel took a deep breath before letting go of her friend. “I’m fine, I just needed to get a few things off my chest.”

She looked over at Luka who also was clearly swarmed by the ladybugs. His make-up was now intact as his skin was a limp green tinted gray with a black scar besides his mouth. The rest of his costume, a faux leather jacket, distressed graphic t-shirt of a zombie’s rib cage, black fingerless gloves, ripped blue jeans and black Converse, were now stainless, making him an impressive zombie rockstar.

“Luka, how’s your head?” she asked.

“Much better, I just needed to sit out for a while,” he said. “But I really want to apologize for what I said to you tonight.“

“It’s okay,” the angel told him. “You were just reacting to what you thought you knew. It really did look like I turned against everyone.”

“Let’s go back inside,” Marinette suggested, her phone now in her hand. “We still have an hour left in the dance.”

With that the trio entered the building, the moment Sabrina stepped onto the steps she could feel a surge of positive energy in the atmosphere from the crowd. She looked over toward the DJ booth at Nino who was still working. He was still in his Dracula costume, a white long sleeved frilled shirt with a burgundy vest, black trousers, black dress and a black cape with a vampire collar. He must’ve noticed her because he waved back before pulling the booth’s microphone towards him.

“Alright party people, we still have about an hour left tonight,” Nino announced into the microphone. “So for the rest of the hour I will be accepting requests. Just approach the booth to put your request in. But the first request for tonight is “Warrior” by Sasha Durand dedicated to Sabrina Raincomprix from a group of people who want to apologize to you.”

“Wait what?” Sabrina sounded completely flabbergasted.

A string of electronic beats played for a few seconds before the rest of the musical accompaniment came in. A harmonic voice sang:

🎶 These new roles haven’t been easy.

Even in the moment when I fight.

Walls closing in, getting tight.

But I’m ready to pave the way.

Just for a better day.

I have become a warrior.

Finally free and glorious. 🎶

The angel turned to the couple who were smiling at her.

“Did you two know about this?” she asked.

“I might’ve texted a suggestion in the group chat about doing something like this since this is your favorite song,” Marinette admitted. “But everyone else agreed on it.”

“I also might’ve been the one who she ran this idea by and agreed on it before putting it in the chat,” Luka added. “And when I say might’ve right now, it actually means definitely.”

“Sabrina,” said a voice behind her. “Can we please talk?”

She turned around to see the remainder of her friends standing in front of her. All of them were wearing costumes that were restored to their former glory along with the dance’s provided orange wristbands. In her Claudia, the celestial witch costume Alya stood wearing her black witches hat with faux silver roses at the band. Along with her black lace front knee length dress paired with silver glitter black lace and black ankle booties. The reporter’s crescent moon pendant had returned back on her neck while her silver hoop earrings with threaded star charms was also spotless. Kagami wore her costume proudly a black unity jacket with her returned mockingjay pin, black t-shirt, olive green pants, soft brown ankle boots and arrow quiver of her Katniss Everdeen costume. Adrien stood right by her side wearing his Dread Pirate Roberts costume, a black v neck pirate shirt, black pants, black skull cap, black masquerade mask with matching sash.

Rose looked like a little princess in her pink puffy ball gown, white full length gloves and a golden paper crown of her Princess Peach costume. Juleka appeared on the sinister side of the royal spectrum with her Zombie Prom Queen costume. Similar to Luka, her skin was a limp gray with a greenish tint. Both her eyes were sunken while a large scar ran down her cheek. Juleka’s long hair was pulled into a bun while wearing a silver plastic tiara. Her dress, a glittery tattered black puffed sleeved prom dress had her PROM QUEEN sash covered in specks of fake blood. Mylène’s hair was in braided pigtails, tied with blue plaid ribbons. Her blue pinfold dress, white knee socks and ruby slippers made her look like a suitable Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.

Ivan was in his black grim reaper cloak wearing his gray plastic skeleton mask on his face. Lastly, Alix wore her black overcoat, white vested shirt, black combat boots, black shorts with black and white striped tights and black top hat with glued on white rabbit ears for white rabbit costume. She, along with the others looked, very apologetic.

“I think I can speak for everyone here to say we owe you an apology,” Alix continued. “Isn’t that right everyone?”

The rest of the group nodded and verbally agreed.

“We should have thought about all the possibilities first before being all passive aggressive toward you,” said Alya. “Especially what happened was completely out of character.”

“I think we all had forgotten that we live in a world where Shadow Moth exists for a moment when that happened,” Adrien added.

“True, as not everything is what it seems,” Kagami agreed. “I think we all learned that lesson the hard way tonight. Our anger clouded our judgment.”

“I shouldn’t have doubled down when you told us the truth either. Sorry about that, I also shouldn’t have brought up Chloé either,” Alix admitted. “I thought you had betrayed us. It wasn’t until I saw you and Mirror Image at the DJ booth to realize how wrong I was.”

“You saw that?” Sabrina asked.

“Adrien sent a text in the group chat that you and Mirror Image were at the DJ booth,” Mylène replied. “Once we saw both you and Mirror Image together we all realized the mistake we made.”

“We wanted to apologize earlier,” Ivan told her. “But we couldn’t find you.”

“I had to take a walk to get some fresh air and think over some things,” the angel told them. “Take a break from the drama.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Rose told her. “We didn’t believe you when we should have. But is there any chance you can forgive us?”

“Well…” Sabrina brought her hand to her chin. “There’s a lot to consider here.”

She looked over at the group who all had concerned and apologetic looks on their faces.

“Just kidding!” the angel smiled. “Of course, I forgive you all.”

“You do?” Juleka asked.

“Of course, I can’t even fault you guys too much because you were tricked. Besides I wouldn’t be in the position that I’m in if it wasn’t people giving me a second chance,” she smiled at Marinette. “It’s about time that I’ll pay it forward. Besides, there’s one thing that I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

“What’s that?” Kagami questioned.

Sabrina smiled as the music switched to a more poppy uplifting beat. “Have fun with my friends! Come on everyone you heard Nino we technically have less than an hour left. Let’s make the most of it!”

With that she grabbed the hands of the friends closest in her proximity: Marinette, Kagami and Alya while leading the rest of the group to dance the night away.

Finally at peace, content with her life and the choices she made including the path she decided to take.

The End.

Thanks for reading! 😊

Woo! We are finally done with this story. As previously mentioned I did not expect to take this long but life had gotten in the way. But at the same time I did want to explore Sabrina’s and Chloé’s relationship after Sabrina character development and seeking new friends. Future Sabrina stories will fill up the summer between Confetti and Mirror Image that reached towards this point. I already have a few planned which even includes a birthday party story. For those who were patient for all those months. I really appreciate it. Hopefully we won’t have that serious of a gap for a very long time.

I’m excited for the next story. Not wanting to give too much away it will likely be a two parter and be very special as the first part will be release on my birthday 🎂.

I would also like to note that the song in the story was inspired by the real life song Warrior by Chloe x Halle. They aren’t exact but it was the inspiration. I did not write the original song but the story was mine.

This is story is also available on Wattpad.

The song for this week is “What I Believe In” by NerdOut.

youtube

See you next time. 👋

#miraculous ladybug #sabrina raincomprix #ml sabrina #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfic #bee!sabrina #bee miraculous #miraculous au #ml ladybug #ml chat noir #sabrina redemption #my writing #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous fandom #fanfic #ml shadow moth #miraculous shadow moth #chloé bourgeois #ml chloe

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

a night less cold

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~7.8k

beta’ed: @hawnks

happy birthday pro hero hawks! who’s ready for a night of dazzling and drinking?

you aren’t.

warnings: soft hawks, sick fic, hurt/comfort, a wittle angst, horny shit, fucking while sick, a wittle daddy kink

...

a/n: happy birthday kei 🎉!!! happy to celebrate with a classic little slice of hurt/comfort and horniness <3 i’ve never done a true sick fic, so here’s a wittle bit of that as well!!!

thank you for reading and enjoying this year, and being here!! i’m endlessly grateful and just :’^) full this day. enjoy loves 💕

|||||||||||

Keigo’s birthday was, historically, quite the spectacle.

It was tradition that his once-budding, now-thriving agency would host a massive, grand party at a local venue, either an upscale club or dimly-lit, luxury hotel. Keigo would splurge his personal funds on the best music, food, and drinks that money could buy. There were popular DJs, the best and greasiest foods he could bring in, not to mention an open bar on every floor of the festivities.

It was quite a press event as well. Paparazzi and reporters would line up outside of the venue for a few quick words with heroes and socialites as they spanned the red carpet, colored like the vibrancy of his wings.

The event thereafter was debaucherous, obviously, according to Keigo, and quite a media circus as well.

And this year, you were going as his partner and date, also obviously.

The year prior, you and Keigo had still been relatively secretive about your relationship, but as you’d become quietly public in the recent months, Keigo was itching to show you off.

...

December 27th, you awoke in Keigo’s massive, soft bed to his soft humming and low coos, one of his more birdish qualities. The floating sound echoed from his chest to your ear that laid snug against it as he ran his fingers slowly around the shell of your ear.

As you cracked your eyes open, you immediately noted that you felt a bit... off. There was a sticky dryness in your throat that definitely hadn’t been there when you laid down the night before, at least not as strongly.

You opted to ignore it, tugging Keigo closer by the small of his back and kissing his naked collarbones.

“Mornin’” You yawned, blinking sleep from your eyes. “What time is it?”

Keigo’s humming seized as his hand moved to run slowly up and down the back of your neck, “Early. Get some more rest.”

Shaking your head, you propped your head on your folded arms, regarding Keigo with a quiet reverence.

He was too pretty, it stunned you, most of the time. Even with a mop of slept-on blonde waves and the blushed lines and creases of the sheets on his cheeks, he still looked like some gracious god carved him from amber and marble. With the sheets pooling at his waist and a smirk growing on his lips, you couldn’t help smile back.

“You’re staring,” Keigo grinned without a hint of ire. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute,” Heat pooled in your chest. “Happy early birthday, tailfeathers.”

“Why, thank you,” He lit up, wings puffing behind him as he tugged you closer by the waist. “I’m very excited for you to come tonight, you know. I get to show off my cute little dove to the prying eyes of the world.”

“Showing me off? I’m flattered,” You mused, leaning into his heat. “I’m excited too.”

Keigo took a quick pause before tilting your chin up with a single finger, “Are you sure you’re okay to go tonight?”

“Of course!” You beamed, nuzzling into his neck and ignoring any odd aches in your sleepy muscles. “Why wouldn’t I be? Getting cold feet, birdy?”

He rubbed up your spine, dropping a kiss onto your crown, “You were coughing a bit last night, dove.”

That was news to you. It explained your gummy vocal chords.

“Dry air,” It had to be, right? “Just gave me a dry throat.”

Keigo didn’t look fully convinced in the sheets, feathers ruffled and forehead furrowed.

It was easy to smooth it away with a quick pounce, straddling his hips and kissing him breathless. A bit of an early birthday treat, you supposed, as you nipped and sucked down Keigo’s neck, the little jerks of his hips and swallowed groans only spurred you lower, down to his naked collarbones, grinding down on the hardening bulge in his boxers briefs—

Until your throat began to sting a bit too much for comfort.

You turned your head away, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and clearing your throat.

“Dry air?” Keigo asked with a lopsided grin, hands moving from their wide splay on your inner thighs to around your ribs, coaxing you back into the sheets.

“Feels like it.”

You tried to brush off the feeling, though it lingered as the two of you readied for the day.

A shower was had, steam filling the bathroom as you both sleepily washed each other. It was early enough to indulge in some chaste (and not-so chaste) kisses between washing each other in the spray.

Water poured down from the ceiling-mounted shower head, slicking the two of you with heat. Your head laid against Keigo’s chest as he washed your back, gently swaying your bodies with the tips of his wings against the dewy walls of the shower.

Resting against his chest was a comfort, so early. The day was packed, and you both knew it. A bit of respite before the chaos was much needed and incredibly welcomed.

“Are you sure you need to go to work?” Keigo whined, the pads of his fingers dipping into any tension in your lower back. “I’d love to keep my little chickadee by my side all day.”

You sighed, “You know I would, but I’ve got that report due today and I think my boss will kill me if I don’t get it in on time.”

Keigo huffed, giving your ass cheek a little pinch. It worked to his favor as you yelped, falling against him. You felt him smirk against your wet hair.

“You could always just quit--” Keigo reminded you, a long-standing offer once more put directly on the metaphorical table.

...

It had become quite obvious that Keigo really loved taking care of you. It helped him in unspeakable ways that he had trouble describing to himself, let alone you. As much as he was considered lazy and brash by his colleagues, regarded as too much and too blunt, often to the point of detriment, he was nothing if not goal-oriented.

He just wanted to rest.

Keigo would give the world to just laze around, preferably and hopefully with you, as much as he could while still being a hero. Trouble was, he wasn’t built for loafing about. His years at the Commission truly altered the way his mind and body ran, permanently. It wasn’t something he was ever very explicit about with you, or himself for that matter. All of the brutal training— disgustingly long days with late nights and early mornings, harsh tests or endurance and stamina, and the pushing and pushing of his speed had a great side effect.

He couldn’t rest most of the time.

His body wouldn’t, couldn’t, as with his mind. Whether he was at home lounging or taking a break at his agency, he was always on guard, mentally sprinting for the next moment, and often without cause. It kept him constantly poised, tense, and on edge.

But when you came into his life, that slowly began to change.

It didn’t happen too early in your relationship, the beginning was slow after all. Lots of dancing around each other's feelings, banter and flirting which both of you equally were equally enraptured by the other, but assumed it was all baseless.

It hardly was.

Slowly as you too became closer, sharing space and nights twisted in the sheets together, early morning cups of coffee and little experiences Keigo never imagined he’d have with another person, something started to shift.

When you started to settle in his life, Keigo had something to take care of and god, did it calm him. His need to be constantly moving, doing something, was still there, but when you were settled in his arms, he had something to do— many things to do.

He had the privilege of taking care of you.

You were far more than an outlet for his energy, that would be a complete reduction of your relationship and you, but it was one of the many things Keigo was so grateful to you for.

...

You sighed wistfully, “Maybe someday, love. For now, I gotta get out of here, I don’t want to be late. And neither should you.”

“Aw, babe,” Keigo pouted, grabbing your ass with two hands, massaging at the residual suds in time with your budding whines and gasps. “Not even time for a quickie?”

“Later,” You slapped his hands away playfully. “Have you ever heard of ‘birthday sex’, love? You’ll be getting plenty of it.”

Keigo gave you one of his signature golden grins, cupping your jaw for a few more desperate kisses before you both exited the shower.

He helped you towel off, starting from your ankles to your thighs, lips trailing with promises of the coming day. They stretched up to your ribs, little nips placed on the underside of your breasts before he dried them. You watched his wings ripple and shift with each brush of his lips, obviously getting off on the treatment as much as you were.

Fuck, did you adore him with your whole heart.

As you both dressed for the day, Keigo checked in, ever attentive.

“I’ll pick you up at your place this evening around eight, be dressed and ready for me, okay baby? We’ll go right to the venue.”

You nodded, reminded of the gorgeous (and pricey) outfit he’d treated you too, fitted just right and coordinating perfectly with his own outfit. It was the perfect match, absolutely ideal to show yourselves as the pair you were.

“Perfect, I’ll be ready, done up and waiting,” You glowed with the thought, ignoring the twinge of pain, deep in your muscles.

Nothing a cup of coffee and a few extra stolen kisses wouldn’t fix.

You dressed quickly, rushing off to the subway as Keigo took off from the wide balcony of his apartment to prepare for his own day of preparations for the celebration.

The party would begin that night and wear into his birthday, midnight sounding would mean a round of shots for anyone who could still stand and a jeering of cheers for the beloved number two hero.

Meanwhile, you and your still-dry throat scampered off to work.

...

It proved to not just be a dry throat.

As you sat down at your desk to begin your shift, a little twine of dread had wormed its way into your ribs as an odd exhaustion settled in your bones.

As your shift began, a myriad of symptoms arose.

The air felt cold, too cold for what you were used to at your office. The cardigan your kept handy hardly did anything to keep out the unnatural chill. You took note of it with a few quick glances at your coworkers, all looking perfectly temperate in blouses and dress shirts.

The knowledge did nothing to soothe your chattering teeth.

Next came the headache, a pounding behind your eyes as snot began to ooze from your nose, a little pile of tissues filled your small trash bin. In an act of desperation, you chugged your water bottle, hoping it would quell some of the stabbing pain that was stuffing your skull.

(It didn’t.)

After your vision went double looking at your monitors, you relented and laid your head on the flat of your desk.

The dry throat you’d had worsened next, little coughs turning into hacking, dry wheezes that couldn’t be ignored in the din of your workplace. You covered them the best you could, trying to put on your best face as you slowly and painfully completed your due report.

All the same, someone must’ve spotted you and your poor state as you were sent home shortly after.

It wasn’t even noon yet.

You tried to rationalize on the subway ride home.

Admitting to being sick meant that the entire night would be beyond fucked. It was supposed to be a perfect night to let loose and be open with your love, not one spent curled in bed and aching.

You had time, you resolved, you could fix this.

Despite the fact that, even in your winter coat, you were fucking freezing, you convinced yourself that you weren’t sick.

You couldn’t be.

The ache in your muscles was from sleep deprivation and fatigue, obviously. The winter air was the source of your burning throat and eyes. Getting sick wasn’t an option.

As you journeyed home, you made a vow to simply sleep off your ills.

Nothing a little rest couldn’t fix.

You practically kicked the door to your apartment open, the sound hardly phasing you as your ears had begun to ring on and off on the ride home. You haphazardly dropped your purse to the floor of your small foyer, kicking off your shoes and padding to your kitchen.

You rapidly tried to think of some remedies while still hardly acknowledging any potential illness.

Your first thought was tea, something herbal with lemon and honey tossed in to soothe your throat. The kettle was set and bubbling as you gathered your supplies for a cup that was sure to soothe you in full.

The kettle clicked off, and you poured the steaming water into your cute mug (a gift from Keigo) with shaking hands, ignoring the trembling and hyper-focusing on making sure the stream was in the correct place.

Was pouring water always this hard?

You ignored the thought.

Rather, you wandered off to the bedroom, praying the heat from the mug in your hands, scalding, would warm your shivering body.

(As if you weren’t already burning up.)

You hardly had sense left in you by the time you crawled into the sheets, ruffling them as you attempted to burrow in any heat they could provide. The chill of the unused bedding seeped into you as your teeth chattered. You couldn’t be bothered to even change from your work clothes, the thought of any nakedness sending a new sharp shiver through you.

You just needed a quick nap.

As much as you wanted to sip away at your tea, your mind was going fuzzier by the minute. You sank into the mattress, steaming liquid (and the night’s coming events) forgotten as you fell into a fitful sleep.

...

Your dreams were sordid.

Vivid colors and loud sounds, hardly making any sense, but still, hardly fear into your cooking brain without reason. It blended into some horrid mix of sensations that had you tossing and turning in your sheets.

...

Tap, tap, tap.

...

The sound made your ears burn.

You groaned, shoving your pounding head into the pillow.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

...

It had to be a sound from the inside of your skull, it had to be with how much it thundered, the pounding in your head going harder with each sharp knock.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The sound was more insistent now, oscillating between your dream and reality.

The pressure in your forehead wasn’t helping.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap—

...

“What the fuck,” You audibly cursed, pushing yourself out of bed and awake as you could be. Holding yourself above the sheets, your swallowed back bile as your stomach rolled with new nausea.

Your gaze drifted to a red glow in the room, your alarm clock—

8:34 PM.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Tap, tap, tap, tap—

As fast as you could push your aching muscles to move, you slipped from the bed, whimpering at the chill of the cold floors and air. Shakily, you wrapped a throw blanket around your shoulders and padded to the living room.

Your stomach dropped as Keigo waited outside the balcony door.

His party was starting within the hour.

You hadn’t changed, showered, or done any sort of primping. Your outfit that was still hung on the back of your bedroom door, untouched and cold.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you slowly made your way to the door, trying to avoid Keigo’s gaze.

Your shaking hands undid the latch.

You swallowed back as many symptoms as you could, mind racing to figure how quickly you could get ready and if you even could. Makeup could be completed quickly, messily more than likely, but maybe Keigo could touch it up for you once you arrived. Your hair was a nightmare, but maybe you could tame it with a few extra minutes—

As the door opened, you stepped to the side, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. Maybe, Keigo wasn’t upset with you, maybe you could get your shit together in fifteen minutes—

Keigo’s hands went to his hips, wings tight to his back as a frown settled over his pretty plump lips.

“... You’re not ready?” Keigo asked, stating the obvious as you rubbed a hand over your face.

“N-no,” You cursed at your voice strained and crackled. “Give me a few minutes, I fell asleep.”

You prayed your excuse would be enough.

“... For how long, birdie? Are you okay?” Keigo hardly sounded upset, concern lacing his tone more than anything else.

You turned away from him, trudging back towards your bedroom. It was possible to get yourself ready quickly, it had to be you. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin his birthday with your tardiness (and sickness.) The fear spurred your steps to speed—

But Keigo was always faster.

He caught your wrist, tugging and spinning you back towards him. His hands, fingers wrapped in pretty gold rings, landed on your shoulders. His pretty ambers scanned you down, feathers ruffling as his frown deepened.

“How are you feeling?” Keigo asked, open-ended while his index and forefinger pressed to your pulse point, and his gaze flickered to the fat watch on his wrist.

“‘M fine, Kei’,” You murmured, weakly pushing his hand away. “Let me go get ready, I’ll just be a minute or two, promise.”

Keigo hadn’t looked angry since he’d stepped into your apartment, but his expression was souring in a new way. He pulled you close by the waist, lips finding your forehead.

You both stilled.

You knew you were fucked, with his lips so gentle and sweet against his forehead. He knew you were far worse off than you were letting on.

“Dove,” He murmured, voice low and kind. “How do you feel?”

“S-stop,” You pushed at his chest weakly. “I’m okay, I don’t want to fuck up tonight.”

That made Keigo act, the air practically shifting as he scooped you up in his arms, throwing your arms around his neck as he carried you to your bedroom. Setting you onto the sheets, you wrapped your blanket around you tighter, stomach rolling and head burning with its ache and new tears pricking your eyes.

Keigo kneeled, settled between your knees, cupping your cheeks and continuing to look you over.

“Do you have a thermometer? I think you’ve got a fever,” Keigo asked, tapped your chin towards him when you tried to look away from him.

Ignoring his question (you had to), you bit your lip, “I don’t want to ruin your night, Keigo, ‘m sorry.”

Your words slurred as little tears began to drip down your burning cheeks. You rubbed at them with your blanket-covered fists.

Honestly? You felt pretty pathetic. The fever rotting your skull was definitely affecting your judgment, but you didn’t have the sense to care or rationalize.

“Little bird,” Keigo softened, concern coloring his features. “You don’t need to worry about that. Can you tell me where your thermometer is? Maybe some pain medicine too?”

You shook your head, little tears turning fat as you lowered your head.

Keigo audibly winced, something you hardly caught with your sickness was swarming.

“Baby, don’t cry now, it’s alright,” Keigo assured you, pushing your hands away to take the task of wiping your tears away, the chill of the rings on his fingers almost burning. “Don’t worry about the party.”

“But, K-Keigo,” Your voice wobbled as your wrapped your hand around his wrist, over his watch. “You need to go, your party is soon.”

It was.

Your gazes both slide to the alarm clock nearby, the time steadily creeping towards the party’s official start time for the press. There were already scheduled interviews, you and Keigo were to be photographed and ogled at, him shining and dazzling in his signature, blunt way.

You were supposed to be on his arm—

Except, you were feverishly between his palms, crying steadily at the thought of missing the evening.

“Dovie, I need you to listen, please,” Keigo urged you, rubbing heat into your cheeks (even though they were already scalding). “You don’t need to worry about the party. That doesn’t matter. What does is that you’re obviously not feeling well—“

“I’m f-fine!”

It was meant to be a strong declaration, something that would convince Keigo that your feverish state didn’t impede your ability to attend, or at least impede his.

“You’re burning up,” Keigo reminded you.

Your tummy tossed and you shook your head.

He just kept talking, “I’m staying until I know you’re alright—”

That got you even more upset, shaking your head hard and fast even as your skull throbbed.

“No, n-no, no,” You pleaded. It was one thing for you to be unable to attend the highly-anticipated evening, it was entirely another for Keigo to be late to his own party, let alone fucking miss the event— “N-no, absolutely fucking not, ‘Kei. You can’t—”

You wept into his hands as hot tears trailed from the corners of your eyes to drip down your jaw.

...

Keigo’s heart hurt.

His hands shook, more-than-likely imperceptible to you as you sobbed in his hands, soon in his arms, as he sat on the edge of the bed to pull your burning body into his lap.

He tucked your face into the crook of his neck, playing with the hair at the back of your neck, unable to ignore how hot and clammy your skin remained, despite how you shivered and how your teeth clattered together.

You were sick and worked up, that much was for certain.

His wings flexed, the muscles bound-up and more tense than he would’ve liked. Worry laced his expression, his actions, as he tucked your sweaty and tear-matted hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay for you to miss tonight, there’ll be more times to do things like this together,” Keigo quietly assured you.

“But it’s your birthday—”

“That doesn’t matter to me more than you,” Keigo’s breath hitched with his own honest, full-chested admission. “It’s just a night, chickadee. I’m far more concerned with you.”

That unignorable itch and urge his chest flared, hot and bright as your fever and burning cheeks. He squeezed around your body, wishing he could absorb a bit of your hurt as his lips brushed over your temples.

“N-no,” You pulled away from him, shaking your head. “You c-cannot get sick. No.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow at your teary expression.

“I can do whatever I’d like,” He tilted his head sympathetically. “Which is why I’m staying—”

Your expression brightened in the same breath as you narrowed your gaze. Something about the heat swimming in your skull made things tilt and shift perspective.

Why is he being so insistent?

“Are...” You swallowed around your words, hands folding in your lap. “Are you trying to get out of going to your own event?”

...

That might’ve been too much.

Even your feverish mind could tell you were being stubborn to a fault. The thought of Keigo taking care of you while you were obviously not doing well warmed you in an actually good way.

And it seemed you were expressing that same brand of honesty that Keigo was so known for exercising.

You weren’t even sure how you deduced such a claim, but still, you’d ask, perhaps fanning the flame—

“... Looks like you caught me, little bird,” Keigo chuckled, something sad and low, chin tucking over the top of your head.

You remained silent for a moment, head ringing.

“... You don’t want to go tonight?” You asked, softer this time. The rings on his fingers clicked as he drew absent-minded shapes over your clothed thighs.

“It’s complicated,” Keigo admitted. “I’d much rather spend the night with you, here.”

You were both silent for a while.

The last of your tears ebbed away as the thoughts of the evening of dancing and drinking faded. The outfit in its garment bag was forgotten as your hands buried into Keigo’s hair.

His hands played with the hem of your shirt, a reminder that you’d never changed after work, too sick to even crawl from your business casual dressings.

You broke the silence, voice crackling with a suppressed cough.

“The thermometers under the sink in the bathroom.”

...

Keigo returned after nestling you in your sheets.

He had helped you from your work clothes, gently helping pull off and away your sweat-dampened blouse and bottoms. Gentle hands and nimble fingers slipped you into some sleep clothes, sweatpants and a long sleeve Keigo had left at yours some time ago. The slots that had been cut for his wings felt far too breezy, but the comfort of the garment being his far outweighed it.

You wrapped yourself in it as you burrowed into the sheets.

Keigo sat on the edge of the bed, tapping the tip of the thermometer against your lips, “Open, angel.”

Your lips barely cracked open, just enough for the device to be slotted on the top of your tongue. A few of Keigo’s feathers trailed him, bringing a lukewarm rag that he sat on your forehead.

You shivered and let out a whine, giving him a frown as the thermometer beeped.

101.8 °F.

“That doesn’t sound good,” You muttered, burying yourself deeper. “‘M sorry again.”

“No need to apologize,” Keigo assured you once more. Despite the practiced steadiness of his tone, his wings were half-unfurled, poised and tensed. Nervousness radiated from him in a way that he prayed you were too out of it to pick up. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, dove, promise.”

You gave him a shallow nod as Keigo portioned out a dose of cold medicine into the provided cup, scrutinizing the line on the cheap plastic.

“Why did you plan such a big night if you’re trying to get out of it?” You asked, fisting the duvet. “You don’t need to, do you?”

“I don’t,” Keigo sighed, awed by how quickly he admits his inner workings to you (yet again.) “It is a fun night, a lot of fun. It’s just...”

He trailed off as he set down the sickly green bottle with a sigh.

Why did he plan such a night if part of him was goddamn ecstatic about the opportunity to bail on it?

“A lot. It’s just a lot.”

“... You don’t even like drinking much, do you?” You asked, rising up from under your many blankets despite your shivering.

Once, Keigo did. His birthday was a time to get drunk on a bottle of too-expensive liquor on the floor of his too-expensive, too-empty penthouse while trying not to simmer in the loneliness that had become his norm.

“I used to,” Keigo said, a bit too wistful. “The party was just an excuse to not do it alone.”

It was far more fun to get shitfaced with a crowd of folks who saw him as beloved, even if they didn’t really see him. It was more entertaining to dance the night away, fill his room with pretty, tight cunts, one after the other than lay on the cold hardwood of his own floor, ignoring the clawing despondence that he couldn’t avoid as he got another year older—

Either way, alone or not, fucked up or fucked or not, he always felt rotten the next day.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Your words were soft, maybe just for yourself, but Keigo caught them all the same. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” Keigo placed the little cup to your dry lips. “That’s why I don’t want to go.”

...

You swallowed down the medicine, grimacing at the taste and gagging. Your rolling stomach didn’t appreciate the flavor, bile rising in the back of your throat.

“Easy now,” Keigo ran a hand through your hair as another cup was placed to your lips. “Sip.”

You wrapped your hands over Keigo’s as you all-but chugged the water, even if your stuffy nose made it taste dusty and odd.

“Good girl,” Keigo beamed, pressing a kiss to your shoulders, urging you back into the sheets. “Can you scoot for me?”

You nodded, purring with the praise, and shifted only enough for Keigo to join you in the covers, perfectly windswept, styled hair mussed up against the pillows, outfit rumpled without a care otherwise.

You both wrapped up the other in an instant.

Keigo was warm, as were you, even if you couldn’t feel it. Your body ached with each movement, your limbs growing heavy with the syrupy medicine.

“You should go,” You told him softly, speaking quickly before Keigo could disagree. “Just for a little bit. Fashionably late, and all. See some folks.”

“... I don’t want to leave you like this,” He squeezed you, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m just sick, Keigo,” You frowned, little fingers pulling at his jaw so you could meet his gaze. “I’m not dying.”

Sure, you felt like absolute shit at that moment, but the tug of slumber was beginning to outweigh your symptoms.

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t miss the tremble in Keigo’s tone.

“Of course,” You rubbed your fingers over his stubbly chin and soft cheeks. “I’ll be right here, always.”

And both of you shared a quiet moment of understanding.

...

Keigo stayed until you fell asleep, though it didn’t take long at all. Your head laid on his chest, hot puffs of breath pulling from your parted lips as Keigo took to running his hands wherever he could reach.

Your body was hot, hot enough to worry him, but he placated his protective urges (as much as he could) with the sound logic that you, indeed, did just have a fever, albeit a bad one.

Keigo left you with an array of feathers, settled around and up against your body, Your cheek was tucked into one of the broader ones, filaments remaining silken and soft. It would be a bit overwhelming, the sensation of you and your body with the crowds, paparazzi and sounds, but he’d manage.

He arrived fashionably late with a golden smile, and left unexpectedly early before the hour even struck midnight.

The turning of his birthday would be shared elsewhere.

...

You were right there, just as you promised when he returned.

The rustling of fabric and feathers is what roused you, half-way and through your medicine-induced haze.

There was the quiet sound of your dresser opening and shutting as your eyes recognized.

Your vision was blurred, but you still outstretched your palm to Keigo. He was still changing, pretty outfit gone, rings and watch discarded onto the top of your dresser. He stood nearly naked, just in boxer briefs and his entirely unbuttoned dress shirt.

“Pretty bird,” Your voice slurred as Keigo graced you with a lazy smile. “Get over here.”

“On my way, chickadee,” The smile in Keigo’s voice glowed, even in the dark of your room. “Thank you.”

“Love you,” You responded, hand falling onto the duvet, not nearly as uncomfortably cold as before. “So much.”

Keigo’s breath hitched with the common affection.

Sleepily, you wondered, “Has anyone told you that on your birthday?”

You didn’t realize you’d said it aloud.

Keigo was by your side a moment later, feathers returning to his full wings, body warm and comfortable and purely home. You snuggled into him, pulling him close with a hand around his waist, pushing weakly at the tension bound up in the fat he carried above his waist.

His wings rustled, settling half-extended over your mattress and undoubtedly drooping to the floor. Your legs tucked around his, his hands settling over your spine to count each of the vertebrae like it was the beats of a song only you too sang.

Keigo tried his best to ignore his own stray tears. It was easier to cry around you, either because he was so damn comfortable around you, or that you were a bit of a crybaby yourself.

Either way, Keigo was grateful for it.

You, in your feverish state, only felt Keigo in all of his rawness. The swell and crest of his breath, the tempo of his heart, the gentle hands and precious pressure he doled out against the tension you bore in your body, all were familiar but blessed no matter how many times you were graced by him.

Keigo wasn’t an angel, he was better than one, wings aside.

You cracked your sleep eyes open, palms around his jaw, cupping and caressing as was your rite.

Your gaze drifted just beyond Keigo to the glow of your alarm clock.

12:03 AM.

“Happy birthday, love.”

Keigo didn’t reply, only giving an audible swallow and a shaky swallow. You can feel his tears soak your fingertips.

You kissed them away, licking at the salt with the tip of your tongue, relishing Keigo’s little giggles, all for you and him to share, just the two of you.

“I adore you, you know,” you admitted, though he already knew so well. “I love you, Keigo. Thank you.”

Maybe a few of your own tears fell as you pressed your cheek to his, kissing up and down his jaw, nosing at the beat of his heart under his jaw.

Keigo layered love onto you, little repetitions, desperately returned, and shared affection. ‘I love you’s and sentiments too soft and important slipped between the two of you as sleep pulled you both under.

...

The morning came with the graces of a gentle, orange sun.

It stretched over the sheets, slipping in, uninvited but not unwanted, from around the thin curtains you had hung.

Once more, you awoke to Keigo’s little coos and hums, though he was far less awake.

Before even opening your eyes, your lips found his own. Both yours and his were parched from sleep, sticky breath hardly pleasant, but neither of you minded.

You swallowed a surprised chirp from him, rolling your hips into his own.

Keigo stilled you with a gentle hand on the back of your thighs, gripping the fat and flesh with enough force to have you purring.

“Mornin’, chickadee,” Keigo broke the kiss only to murmur against your lips.

“Hi,” You pulled away to smooth your thumbs over his cheeks, still sticky from the night before. “I love you.”

And Keigo lit, matching with the rays that filled your room, “I love you too.”

You beamed back, not bright in that same way, but luminous all the same.

Keigo took you in breathlessly, the simpleness of you leaching all air from his lungs and unwanted thoughts from his mind.

If Keigo was like the sun, all gold in the morning and red in dusk, then you were every other star that wreathed the moon. You didn’t see it, not the same way he did, but then again, only Keigo had the privilege of seeing the way how you exchanged pieces of yourselves with each other without fear.

The tenderness of that morning was far, far better than anything he’d had in years past. He missed nothing about the pounding of his skull from the liquor the night prior, the insistent need to piss out his sins and the clingings of at least a dozen perfumes from the night before.

Even that hot and fast burning ecstasy couldn’t compare to sharing the morning sun with you.

“How do you feel?” You asked, breaking Keigo from his quiet worship.

Keigo snorted, pressing his lips to your forehead, gauging the temperature, “I should be asking you that.”

“Sweaty,” You tugged on the long sleeve and bumped one of your now-naked thighs into his own. “I think my fever broke in my sleep.”

Thank God.

Keigo reached around you, rustling around for the thermometer, and placing it under your tongue.

99.3 °F.

“Looks like it,” Keigo let out a sigh of relief. “Do you feel better?”

“Mostly,” You nosed your way back under his chin for all the extra affections you could give. “Just tired.”

“We’ll have an easy day then,” Keigo replied, feathers rippling at the idea of a slow, free day in bed with you.

“But it’s your birthday— “

Keigo cut you off with a finger to your lips and a sly smile, “And I would like nothing more than to spend it, like this, with you.”

You inspected his face for any signs of dishonesty.

There wasn’t even one.

“Okay, then let me rephrase,” You huffed a little. “But what about birthday sex? I really was prepared to have you cum down my throat at least four times today.”

Keigo snorted again, flitting laughter bursting from his lips as he pulled you to his chest and smothered you with kisses.

“There’s absolutely nothing stopping us from fucking until the sun goes down, other than how you feel and what you’re up for,” Keigo reminded you, his hand drifting up to your ass and squeezing. The way you jolted into him with a little whine had Keigo already wanting. “I can make it nice and easy for you, little bird.”

You shuddered, hands drifting to the roots of his wings and teasing the small, silken feathers, “Why don’t you show me?”

Keigo needed no other command.

...

You knew Keigo could be so greedy with his touches. Some nights he’d take and take and take. He’d pull from you anything and everything you’d offer, leaving you gasping and stuffed-full with a happily broken mind. He loved stealing your breath with the pounding of his hips, stealing the sounds from your lips as they came, though you gave them freely.

That day didn’t feel like that.

“I want to be so deep in you, dovey,” Keigo purred, cooing from the back of his throat. His hand slipped between your clammy thighs. “Feel you all over.”

The pad of his index fingers ran over your clothed clit, teasing and wanting in the same moment.

“Y-you can have me any way you want,” Your voice had already gone gooey and high, pitching up and sweetened. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You rubbed at the apex of his wings, where the little feathers bled from the roots of his wings to the base bones. A low groan rumbled from his chest, one of your favorite sounds. Nothing got Keigo weaker than little pets and play to his wings. They were so sensitive from years of touch solely by his own hand. They were coveted, a part of the holy structure of his body that he hardly allowed anyone else to fully take in unless necessary, before you anyways.

That was your privilege.

Keigo slipped your panties off, the cotton fabric discarded and forgotten. A moment later, your shirt followed, leaving you bear to him.

There was still the impulse to cover yourself. Keigo loved looking at you, his pupils wide as they traced over your curves night after night like it was the first time he’d seen your skin and curves.

That morning, the feeling fell away quickly as you urged his own scraps of clothing off.

He was already hard, leaking from the thought and sight of you. You were hardly different, Keigo’s fingers teasing the lips of your sex and pulling away wet.

Without shame, he popped the finger into his mouth, sucking away your slick like it was nectar.

You tipped onto your back, pulling Keigo with you. One hand remained buried and busy with his wing while the other slipped between your bodies, wrapping around his pretty cock and stroking slow.

He gasped into your mouth as you thumbed over the head.

Smiling against his lips, you nipped and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, enjoying your little moment of control.

Keigo stole it back quickly.

Carefully, he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushed your legs up and out. Before you had a chance to so much as whimper, Keigo slid a finger into your cunt, then two, curling against the bundle of nerves.

Your back arched, your grip on him tightened as you gasped his name like the last note of a hymn.

And Keigo wanted more.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Keigo panted, breathless and strained as he adjusted your legs over his shoulders, bearing his weight on his arms that went to brace around your head.

“C-can I have a pillow?”

“For your hips?”

“Uh-huh.”

Keigo gave you a flurry of kisses, a wordless ‘of course, I want to make you feel so good’. There was an art to wordless communication and Keigo was a goddamn masterful craftsman.

The pillow slipped was your lower back, tilting your hips up and cushioning them from whatever treatment Keigo laid upon them.

With a shaking hand, he removed yours, guiding it to his wings as he lined up his cock with your cunt and fucked into you in a single fluid motion.

The burn of it was enough to have you gasping, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders and tuck your face into his neck with a whine. Keigo soothed you without question, barely rolling his hips are you adjusted.

He settled over you close, chest brushing yours, the cold of the bars through his nipples always a shock, even when you expected it.

“M-more,” You whined, needy and sweltering with a tug of his wings. “Please.”

Keigo hummed, palming one of your breasts with a twist of your nipple, “But, you beg so pretty, little bird. What if I want to hear more? It is my birthday.”

It was, and Keigo wanted to be so close it hurt. He hardly had the patience for teasing, but when your voice got so syrupy and desperate, he couldn’t help but tug at your soon-to-be-fucked mind.

Truthfully, what Keigo wanted most for his birthday fucking was to stuff you so good and full that your tummy bulged under the flat of his palm. He wanted his cock to brush and bruise the deepest parts of you until all you knew was the chant of his name as you came so well and hard that you fucking blacked out.

But, he had to be tender.

Had to be.

“P-please!” You tilted your hips for more of him as if Keigo wasn’t already filling you up fully and perfectly. “Anything you w-want, please.”

“You mean it, little bird?”

“Uh-huh.”

And sweetly, perfectly, Keigo fucked you into the mattress.

There was some reverie in it, there had to be with the way you so gently carded through the hyper-sensitive, rounded feathers that stretched onto his back. It juxtaposed the way he railed and ruined your cunt, slick sticking your inner thighs and his pelvis with each thrust.

Each motion went so deep, you swore you could feel it in your gut. Maybe, that was why Keigo was fucking you so close, with your bodies pressed together and sharing air and heat so closely, it was hard to tell where another experience ended and another began.

You didn’t expect the first time you came, your eyes stretching wide as your crest drowned you well and sweetly. You buried your face into Keigo’s now marked and bitten neck and let out a choked sob as your cunt fluttered around him.

Keigo took a moment to slow, as he only peaked with you, but he wasn’t ready to be done with you yet. His hips barely moved in you, just nudging deeper, and deeper—

“More,” Greedy, such a greedy little whore. “M-more, please.”

Keigo chuckled, pushing some of his sweaty waves back, “Think you can handle it, little bird?”

Your face, hot with pleasure and eyes wide with want, went determined as you tugged on the wings, nails raking through the unpreened feathers.

“Fuck me like you mean it, K-Keigo— Daddy.”

Keigo stilled, raising an eyebrow, ignoring the flaring of hot, yellow fire in his chest, “You really want to push that button so early?”

“Were you planning to fuck me like a pussy the rest of the morning?”

Where did your fire come from? You were sure, maybe it was the leavings of your fever, but you didn’t care. You wore your smitten grin as Keigo’s gaze darkened, pupils so fat and focused, the citrine of his eyes was swallowed whole.

Keigo slapped a hand over your mouth, squeezing around your jaw, and fucking into you once, sharper and deeper than he had before. Your vision nearly went white, body fucked over-sensitive once but still begging for more.

Greedy, greedy, greedy.

Gluttons, the both of you.

As per your request and Keigo’s deepest wants, Keigo fucked you so earnestly, deeply, and without holding back that part of you feared the bed would break.

Each cant of his hips had your tugging at his feathers, the twitch of his cock inside more than enough of a sign at how fucking wild your touch was making him. That wasn’t to mention the filth that rolled from his lips, pants and whines and groans and words—

“Daddy’s little bird just gives so well, d-don’t you?” Keigo’s probably bruising your cervix, but you didn’t have the mind to care. “Letting me t-take whatever I want?”

You nodded behind his palm, half shrieking as his hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing your swollen clit, hot pressure building up in your gut by his hand, just as you liked.

As much as he took, he gave.

It only took a few more moments for you to sob behind his palm, clutching as your shoulders as you came so hot and bright and well, your vision sparkled and went black.

With the way your cunt clamped down around Keigo’s cock, he came just behind, filling you so, so good. His hand flew to your tummy, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself fill you with fat cock and thick cum.

You gasped as you came down, panting and clutching at Keigo as he did the same. You hushed each other with des[erate kisses, quiet praises too precious and sacred to be written, but that could certainly be felt in the air that remained conjunct between the pair of you.

Keigo rose from your body, thighs shaking in time with your own as he lowered your legs on to the sheets.

You were both messes, covered in sweat and spit and sweetness, but neither of you cared.

“You okay, little bird?” He asked, soft in the aftermath, kissing the damp apples of your cheeks.

“Uh-huh,” You gave him the best type of fucked out smile. “Can’t wait for more, it is your birthday.”

“And...” Keigo found himself speaking without thinking. “You’re here for it? All of it?”

He knew that, did he really need the reassurance—?

“Every bit of it, lovebird,” You tacked on the nickname, rising on your undoubtedly sore hips. “Every moment.”

And he couldn’t be happier about it.

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thank you for reading!!!! 💕

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks imagines #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia #happy birthday birdie <33 #heart full #its been a weird couple of days BUT!!#here #some good soft smut and just #goodness #and hurt too bc :)#anyways enjoy lovies!!!

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iwishtobeastorm · 3 years

Note

Congratulations on your 200 followers! I’m proud to be one of them! Can I request a Frankie Morales with plus size reader? Maybe reader thinks that Frankie likes someone else? 🥺 angst and fluff? Thank you so much in advance, I love your writing.

“I was afraid I’ll lose you.“ “Never.“

A/N: Thank you so so so much babe! I'm so grateful you're following me and that you like my work. 💕 When I saw you requested Frankie I almost fainted because I love the man more than anything and I couldn't wait to finally write something about him. I hope this angsty fluffy thing won't disappoint!

The most dangerous thing - Frankie Morales/Chubby!F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2200+

Celebration | Masterlist

It's as if everything around you stopped, the whole world just froze, the sounds got drowned by silence, the light turning into darkness as a huge wound opens in your chest sucking in all the warmth that you felt after Santi's last joke. You can't look away, your wide opened eyes filling with tears, before Benny nudges your shoulder, taking you back, your gaze snapping to him, the loud roaring of the bar fills your ears as you're met with the baby blue of his irises, watching you with worry. "Y/N, are you okay?" He speaks softly, his hand squeezing on your shoulder. You don't know what to say. You're sure he can tell perfectly you're not okay by the hot tears running down your cheeks. "Uhm, sure. I just need a minute," you murmur, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands as you rise from the table, rushing to the toilets before any of the boys come back to sit down or before Benny's able to stop you. You close the door behind you, locking in, before you lean your back against it, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs as you slowly slip to the ground, clutching your knees to your body, your tears now coming in burning streams, blurrying your vision. All of this for one man.

You've met the boys while working at the bar as a part-time job to have more money to cover your university life. You immediately grew to the whole group, spending maybe too much time joking around with them for your boss's liking. They've always flirted with you, or most of them did. Most of them, but never Frankie. And you being the little fool you're, of course you fell in love with him. He was always quiet and shy, never holding an eyecontact for too long, never teasing you. He rarely spoke to you at first, which made him even more attractive in your eyes, more mysterious. But when he started talking to you? Oh boy. You learned how smart he is and so perceptive, while he told you about a new book or an article he read or that caught his eyes, while he waited for the rest of the group and you hanged on his every word, watching him with unhidden fascination. You know he's older than you, but that doesn't mean the two of you couldn't work together. Actually you think you two would make an amazing couple. You can imagine falling asleep in his arms while he reads to you or spending the weekends with the boys, playing pool or cards like they sometimes do, as Benny told you once. You could get used to the life with him more than easily, but those are all daydreams. The longer time you've known them, the more you found out about Frankie and his past. You got to know he's divorced and has a little daughter and that all of the boys served in special forces, that's where their nicknames come from. The more you've heard about Frankie the more you grew to him. A few months ago you were invited to Benny's b-day party and ever since that, you hang out with them from time to time. You know you technically don't belong there, but they never made you feel like the third wheel, more like the little princess they all have to protect as your knights in shining armor. That's when you got significantly closer to Frankie. You two found yourself caught up in your own conversation more and more often, sometimes leaving the noisy company of the rest of the boys, just sitting on Millers' patio in the rocking chairs and talking about everything and nothing, laughing together until your ribs got tough sometimes. Frankie brought out a part of you you didn't know you had. All of those little things made you believe it was going the right way. You go along well, right? What else should matter? Until today Frankie was late. You were late yourself bacuse you had an important assignment to finish, but Frankie was never late. He was always the first one there, always. It made you worried, because apparently none of the boys knew what was actually going on, until Frankie showed up with a lady by his sight. Pretty one, a bit older than you and much much thinner, making your insecurity thrive. That's why you ran away like a coward, hiding in the bathroom, curled up into a ball on the ground to cry your eyes out. This is not how you imagined this night. You thought it will be the usual. A bit of friendly flirting with Pope, life-check up with Will, a lot of laughing with Benny and nice conversation with Frankie, before you retire to your stinky dorms. Not this. Maybe you could climb out of the window and run away. No, no, you can't because you left your purse at the table. Or maybe you could pretend you were sick and sneak out? That could work, but you're not really prepared to face Frankie and whoever that lady is. You're screwed. "Y/N! Are you in there?" There's a banging on the door, making your form shake with it and you slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears that got stuck on your cheeks and taking a deep breath before responding to Benny's question. "Yeah, I- I just don't feel really well," you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Well, technically this isn't a lie. "Would you open the door for me?" He asks, hint of plea in his voice. "Uhm- just wait a second," you say softly, raising from the ground. You know that if you said no, Benny is able to kick the door open without hesitation. You check yourself in the mirror, getting rid of

any signs you've ever cried, before opening the door, just to find the younger Miller brother leaning against the doorframe, face curved in worry. "What's going on? Are you alright?" He asks, stepping in, letting you close the door behind him. "These are restrooms for women, Benny. You probably shouldn't be here," you murmur, trying to sound like you're teasing him to lighten up the mood and also mainly to avoid answering his questions, but there's no way Benny would let it slip. Not after the anguish he saw in your eyes and the tears that rolled down your cheeks. "Spill it, Y/N. I know something's up," he states, folding his hands on his chest like Frankie does sometimes, the mental mention of him reminding you of the lady by his side and your eyes start stinging again. "I just- didn't feel good," you say softly, trying to sound persuasive. But Benny's way past buying that. "Because of Sylvie?" He asks and you frown softly. "Sylvie?" You raise an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle softly. "Yeah, the lady that Frankie brought with him," he states, making your heart sink. "No," you murmur to respond to his initial question. "Are you sure?" Benny raises an eyebrow at you, leaning his body against the wall, eyes never leaving you, so you have to watch your expression carefully. "Yes. Can I leave now? I really don't feel good, Benny," you say, not really waiting for his approval, reaching for the door to open them, but Benny pushes his arm against it, holding it closed. Your strenght is nothing compared to his, so you know you're trapped. "Let me leave, please," you look up at him. "I saw the way you look at him, Y/N," he states, his gaze softening. Your eyes fill with tears but you refuse to let them fall. Always so stubborn, as Will says. You look down, trying to hide all the emotions your eyes could give away easily. "Why don't you tell him?" Benny asks, leaning against the door. "Because it would be useless. I- I thought he feels the same but apparently he doesn't. I don't need more damage. Would you now let me leave, please?" you say softly, tugging on the door. "It's not like that. Pope set them up. Frankie didn't want it," Benny states. "Does it matter now? He's out there with her on our night, isn't he? And- and he looked happy so-," you clench your jaw, trying to open the damned door but it's useless when Benny's leaned on it. "Get away from the fucking door, Ben. I- I'm not playing," you grumble, the tears slipping over your eyelids and rolling down your cheeks at your struggle. Benny steps away from the door and tries to reach for you to continue with his attempt to comfort you, or whatever that was supposed to be, but you dodge his hand and storm out of the restrooms. You head straight to the table, not looking at anyone, just grasping your purse and murmuring quick I gotta go, before you're out of the door, their shouting of your name rings in your ears even as you walk down the street to your dorms. It's over. It's all over. He left you. He never felt the same. And now you have nothing.

You've spent the rest of the weekend in bed, eating ice cream and watching Bridget Jones, hoping that will heal the aching wound in your chest, but by now you doubt anything ever can. You turned off your notifications on the phone, not letting a single one of the guys know what is actually going on, so Benny remained the only one cursed with knowledge. On Sunday evening you finally get out of the bed and clean up a bit, since your roommate will return tomorrow morning from their visit of their family or whatever and if they saw this mess, they'd probably beat you up, so you play some lazy songs and get into it. Just as you're cleaning up the small bathroom you have, there's a knock on the door. You at first think it wasn't your door, since there's literally no one who could've been knocking at your door at this time, but then it's there again, louder this time, forcing you to turn off the water, wipe your hands and head out to find out who it is. When you open the door, you hesitate the urge to shut them again, your heart squeezing in your chest, making it feel too tight for your liking. "Uhm, hey," you murmur, your eyes meeting the dark brown irises you sometimes dream of. "Hey. I just- can I come in?" He tilts his head towards the inside of your room, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, sure," you murmur, stepping away from the door and letting Frankie in. You close it behind you, biting on your lower lip. There's not much space in your dorm room, so you gesture to your bed so Frankie has somewhere to sit down, while you pour him a glass of water. "So- what is that you need?" You ask softly when you return from the bathroom, handing him his glass of water and biting on your lower lip. "I- I'm here because of Friday," he states and you wish you could jump out of the window and run. "Okay," you murmur, not really sure where this whole thing is going. Did boys send him here because they are worried and they know you two are close? Or did Benny tell them what he found out? Either way you seem to be fucked. "What happened, Y/N? You left in such hurry and- I saw you were crying," he swallows nervously, his grasp on the glass tightening. Benny told them, eventually. It took a long time, lots of beers and lots of pressure from all of the guys but he told them. And Frankie's here to make it all good. "It's nothing," you murmur, adverting your gaze, your cheeks burning. "I know it's not nothing, Y/N. Please, you have to tell me," he reaches for your hand, squeezing a bit on it until your eyes meet his, welling up in tears. "I just- I- I like you Frankie. Like a lot. And- and I just- when you brought Sylvie I-," you take a shaky breath, your throat getting too tight with the sobs you hold back, making you unable to speak. "Shh, come here," he murmurs, grabbing your other hand too and leading you to sit on his lap. You're so surprised you forget how to breathe for a moment as your hands rest on his shoulders, while he cups your both cheeks with his calloused hands, wiping away your tears. "I like you too, darling. Sylvia is Pope's fault. I- I insisted there's nothing I feel to you and he then dared me to take some girl out to persuade him about it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was you. And I realized it fully when I saw you leaving the bar. I just- I'm sorry," he mumbles, sighing through his prominent nose, that you adore dearly. His words make you smile, warming up the empty cold darkness in your chest, finally bringing you back to your usual self. "I was just afraid I'll lose you," you admit, playing with the little curls on the back of his neck. "Never," he says, raising your chin so your eyes meet his and before you're able to do anything, Frankie's soft lips are on yours. He pulls you closer, hands squeezing on your hips, making your cheeks flush red as you run your fingers into his hair. You fight the grin on your face as you realize what this means. You have Frankie now. And Frankie has you.

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wicked-mind · 4 years

Text

Betrayed: Chapter Six

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.7k

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Warning: This chapter contains violence, description of damages on the body, swearing, thoughts of death, and some dismembered fingers.

*gifs in all chapters not mine

__________________________________________________________

Chapter Six- Dog Tags

Y/N gripped at Alexei’s skin on his arm until she broke skin, causing him to let go of her throat. She dropped to the ground, coughing as the fresh air filled her lungs. When she looked back up she saw Alexei’s leather boot on Clint’s neck, threatening to press down harder.

“Now, you are going to come with me willingly, or I’m going to kill your friend, and anybody else who tries to help you.” Alexei threatened in his deep voice, his eyes locked on Y/N.

Y/N looked at Clint, before meeting Alexei’s gaze. She nods, holding her hands up non-threateningly, “Let him go, alive.” She said softly, “And I’ll get us out here without alerting anybody.” She promised as she stood slowly, feeling relief when Alexei removed his boot from Clint’s neck. Y/N watched Alexei carefully, making sure to show him no fear. She knew he thrived on it. She instead glared daggers at him. Just as promised, Y/N lead Alexei into the garage, shutting off any alarms that would sound and alert those who were sleeping. She looked at the various keys on the holder, trying to decide which to take. She decided on Clint’s black Jeep, grabbing the keys and throwing them to Alexei who caught them with ease before tossing them back to her.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? You’re driving. I’m keeping my eyes on you.” He growled as he got into the passenger side of the car. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, sliding into the drivers seat, securing herself in the seatbelt. She opened the garage with the opener and quickly pulled out, speeding her way down the driveway and off of the facility grounds. Y/N looked at the building in the rearview mirror, wondering if this was the last time she would see her home.

—

Bucky awoke with a jolt, breathing heavily as he sat up. His dog tags jingled softly on his chest at the sudden movement. He rubs his vibranium hand across his face, wiping away the pellets of sweat that had formed. Another nightmare. He had watched himself kill an innocent woman who had witnessed his crime, watching her beg for her life as he squeezed the remaining life out of her by the throat with his then silver arm. He looked around his room, catching his breath. His room was bare. There were no pictures on the wall. He had a recliner in the corner beside a small table that had a lamp on it with a small notebook as well. He also had a desk, the only belongings on it were an almost empty bottle of whiskey and a glass. His tv was on, playing a rerun of an old baseball game. There was no bed, instead just some pillows and blankets on the floor. Beds were too comfortable for him, he could never get to sleep when he was in one. Bucky pulled himself off the floor, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv. He pulls a grey shirt on over his head, interrupted by a knock at the door. Bucky adjusted his gaze over to the closed door, wondering if it was Y/N. He smiled as he walked over hoping to see her red eyes staring at him. He turned the knob and opened the door only to find the wrong Rogers on the other side, turning his smile into a bit of a frown.

Steve looked at Bucky with concern in his eyes, “We have a problem.”

The team gathered in the medical bay once again, looking at Clint who laid in the bed, monitors beeping in tune with his heartbeat. He had a few stitches to his head where he had been hit that knocked him out and his neck was red from where the boot had been smashing his neck. But he was awake and talking, “I didn’t get a good look at who did it.” He said softly, wincing at the pain from his neck as he spoke, “I was out for a run and then there was this man with blonde hair and red eyes. He knocked me out.” He lifted his hand to touch the spot stitched on his head, “Next thing I remember is Steve found me."

“Alexei.” Bucky muttered, remembering Y/N’s description of the man. He was the one with blonde hair, “His name is Alexei. He’s one of the other ones like Y/N. The one she hears is Dimitri.” Bucky revealed to the team, feeling the anger growing inside of him. Alexei had taken her. Bucky had promised to keep her safe and he failed. He turned and allowed his vibranium arm to punch through a glass door, causing it to shatter leaving the glass shards at his feet.

Steve watched it unfold, seeing the pain on Bucky’s face as well as the rage. He was finally understanding how much Y/N meant to him. He walks over to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder, “We will get her back, Buck. I promise.” He said, nodding as he said this as if trying to tell himself also

“Y/N took Clint’s car.” Natasha said as she came in after doing a thorough check of the facility, “We can figure out where she is, she doesn’t know how to turn the tracker off.”

—

Y/N gripped the steering wheel tightly, biting her lip at the silence. Her memories of Alexei were flooding back as he sat next to her. He was ruthless, enjoyed every kill. He was dangerous. She drove fast, swerving around the curves of the road they were on. Alexei sat in the passenger seat, watching every move she made and spitting out directions. Y/N moved her eyes to look down the cliff from the side of the road for a split second before returning her gaze back ahead of her. She pressed down on the gas petal slightly. There was a reason she had taken Clint’s car, she knew he had to have some secret stash of weapons hidden in here somewhere. Her eyes slowly looked over to Alexei who had finally taken his gaze off of her to look down at the cellphone in his hand, noting he hadn’t put his seatbelt on. “This is my chance..” Y/N thought. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and cranked the wheel to the left, causing the car to turn sharply and drive off the cliff.

The car tumbled down the cliff, causing Y/N’s body to shift in all different directions in the car before the airbags deployed. It hit the large rocks on the way down until it reached the forest area below. The car bounced around between the trees before finally coming to a stop by smashing into one of the trunks of a large tree. Y/N opened her eyes as the car was stilled, groaning at the pain from being thrown about. She could feel the seatbelt digging into her chest. She pushed the airbags away from her face and removed her seatbelt. There was a loud ringing in her ears which was slowly fading. Y/N usually didn’t feel much pain, but this was painful enough that she was. She looked at the windshield, noticing a large hole in it. Alexei must’ve been ejected.. She thought, part of her plan all along, though she knew that wouldn’t keep him down long. He was built like a boulder and his rage made it so he wasn’t down for long. She reaches her hand over to the glove box, wincing in pain as she pried it open. Thank god, Clint. She thought as she saw a handful of grenades and some extra arrows also. She grabbed one of the arrows, clicking it to its explosive setting like he had shown her before tucking it between her sweat’s waistband and her skin. She could hear branches cracking outside, knowing Alexei was coming. Y/N pushed the car door open, falling to the ground out of the car. Her balance hadn’t fully returned yet. She looked up, watching Alexei approach her with anger in his eyes. She could hear his growling growing louder as he got closer. He was covered in cuts from the glass and fall, bleeding through his shirt.

Y/N gasped as he grabbed her by the throat again, lifting her up so her feet dangled above the ground. He proceeded to slam her into what remained of hood of the car, growling with anger, “You Bitch.” He snarled. Y/N winced at the slam, hearing small cracks within her body. She assumed the cracks had been some of her ribs. She groaned again, opening her eyes to look up at Alexei’s red ones.

“Dimitri wanted you back alive, but your corpse will have to do.” Alexei spat at her in his thick Russian accent, lifting her from the hood and slamming her down again before tossing her against the trunk of a tree with ease, making her yelp a little at the impact.

Y/N laid on the floor, coughing up a little blood onto the dirt. She once again was met with Alexei’s hand at her throat, lifting to pin her against the tree. She stared at him, once again showing no fear. She thought for a moment this was going to be her end, closing her eyes as if to accept it. She felt the pain run up her body, the air emptying her lungs as Alexei’s hand trapped new air from coming in. As she stayed still, thinking of her demise, memories of her time at the facility flashed through her head. Seeing her brother again. Watching tv with Wanda. And Bucky… Oh, god, Bucky. Y/N thought of their moments together then thought about what he would go through if she just gave up in this moment. She felt the anger rise inside of her, adrenaline kicking in and blocking out her pain. She opened her eyes again to meet Alexei’s, a deep growl passing her lips. Y/N lifted her hand, grabbing his arm and twisting it away from her neck, wincing slightly at the pain in her own arm. Alexei landed a punch to her cheek, which she returned to his nose. She fought through the pain with each movement, absorbing each punch landed to her as she continued to back him up with her own punches. Y/N backed him up closer to the car, before kicking him in the chest causing him to fly back into the car through the driver side door which shut behind him due to the impact. Y/N pulled the arrow out of her sweatpants, clicking it again to activate. She ran towards the car, throwing the arrow in through the hole in the windshield, right by the glove box full of grenades and Alexei. She tucked her head as she tried to move away, but the arrow went off before she could get to a safe distance. There was the first explosion from the arrow, then the grenades started exploding before the engine and gas tank of the car itself exploded, releasing a large cloud of smoke along with a fireball into the sky. Y/N was thrown back, hitting a large boulder. She let out a cry as her head hit the hard rock before falling to the ground. Everything was suddenly still as the pain within her body quickly returned. She opened her eyes to look at the sky, seeing that the sun was rising. She felt the warm rays hit her face through the tree top. She stared for a moment at the trees lightening, her memories bringing her back to the sunrise with Bucky. And with those memories, her eyes closed and the world around her faded into darkness.

—

“We got a body around what’s left of the car!” Sam yelled, then had a look of disgust, “Well, pieces of a body.” He muttered as he saw some fingers not attached to hand. Bucky and Steve were at his side in seconds, looking at the pieces. Bucky felt a little relief as he saw the fingers, too big to be Y/N’s. But where was she? The car had been pretty much blown to pieces, Alexei also.

“It isn’t her.” Steve said, breaking the silence as he looked around, trying to find any sign of his sister.

“I’ve got her.” Wanda’s voice came over their earpieces, it was silent before she continued, “Sam, Nat, keep them back. I need to get her back to the facility quickly.”

Steve and Bucky moved to run to Wanda’s position, but were stopped by Natasha and Sam who held them back. Bucky pushed Sam away with ease, running towards Wanda. Steve got passed Natasha also, following close behind. They paused when they saw Wanda using her abilities to levitate Y/N from the ground with herself, headed back up the hill. Blood dripped from Y/N’s body, leaving a trail behind. Bucky watched her, horrified at how she looked. She was covered with gashes, her clothes torn. He noticed her hair was mess with dirt and blood. Her face was red and starting to develop black bruises. Her skin on her arms seemed a little scorched from the blast. He watched until Wanda was out of view, knowing that Wanda would levitate them all the way back to the facility where they already had a medical team on standby. Bucky turned to look at Steve, anger bubbling inside of him. Steve met his gaze, the same anger reflected back at Bucky. They both made their way back up the hill passed Natasha and Sam, leaving them to clean up the mess. They got in one of the SUVs and sped back towards the facility in silence.

Steve and Bucky waited outside the med bay doors. The curtains had been drawn for privacy so they couldn’t see inside while the medical team worked on Y/N. Wanda paced the room, chewing on her fingers with concern. Bucky sat hunched over in the chair, his foot tapping impatiently as he stared at the floor. Steve was standing by the doors, watching the curtain for any movement, before looking at Bucky, “You said his name was Alexei?” He asked, breaking the silence. He needed to know what Bucky knew.

Bucky nodded, looking over to Steve. He debated sharing what Y/N had told him. He sat back in the chair, running his right hand through his hair slowly, “His name was Alexei. The one that talks to her is Dimitri.” He said, the names coming off his tongue in disgust, “Dimitri wanted to overthrow the Hydra facility. With Alexei’s help, Dimitri was trying to make Y/N comply with the plans. He bit her, envenomating her and causing hallucinations, but the venom doesn’t kill her. That’s where those scars are from.” He divulged his knowledge, knowing it was safer for Y/N if Steve knew. He stood from his chair, “Dimitri must’ve sent Alexei to collect her.”

Steve listened, his forehead wrinkling with worry and anger, “With Alexei gone, he may come for Y/N himself next.” He said, his brain processing the information and trying to come up with a strategy to keep Y/N safe. Both Steve and Bucky turned quickly at the sound of the door to the med bay finally opening, rushing over to the doctor who had slipped through and closed the door behind her. She looked between Steve and Bucky before speaking, “The good news is Y/N is healing extremely quick. She should be fine and make a full recovery. I’ve seen her blood work, she has extra enzymes in her DNA that make her heal at a remarkable rate. Given the extent of her injuries, any normal human would be dead just from the car accident alone.” She said.

Steve nodded listening to the doctor, relief washing over his body as he heard Y/N would be okay.

“The bad news is,” The doctor continued, “We have to keep her sedated. She kept waking up not knowing the extent of her injuries and trying to move around so she is very, heavily sedated. I will be keeping her unconscious for a few days while her body heals itself. I’ll keep a close eye on her, but you can go in and see her.”

As soon as Bucky heard that he could see Y/N, he was through the door in an instant. He is eyes fell upon Y/N’s battered body. He approached slowly, reaching out to her with his right hand to sweep some of the dirty hair from her bruised face. He winced at the dark marks, never thinking he would see her like this. His body filled up with guilt. He had promised to protect her, keep Alexei and Dimitri from hurting her again. He had failed. She laid in front of him in the worst shape he has seen another human being in. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was dead. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered to her softly, “I should’ve been there to protect you.” His voice broke with sadness.

Steve was now in the room, listening to Bucky whisper to his sister. He approached the side of Y/N’s bed, placing his hand on Bucky’s left shoulder, “She’s still here, Y/N will be okay.” He reminded his friend. Wanda had came in behind Steve, her tear filled eyes looking at Y/N. She went to the opposite side of the bed from Steve and Bucky, quickly gathering Y/N’s pale hand into hers. Wanda had witnessed so much pain in her life, this was just another thing that added to her long list of trauma.

Over the next few days Y/N’s small cuts healed quickly, leaving tiny silver scars in their place. Her bruising and swelling had gone down significantly. Eventually Steve got the okay to move her back to Y/N’s and Wanda’s bedroom as long as she stayed sedated for a couple more days. He didn’t want her to wake up surrounded by doctors and machines in the medical bay. Steve would visit her everyday and sit by her bedside for a while, watching her body heal itself miraculously. Wanda helped care for Y/N as she stayed sedated. She cleaned Y/N’s hair and brushed it everyday, wanting her to look nice. Bucky sat in the chair next to her bed constantly, even more than Steve, only leaving when Wanda requested privacy to clean Y/N up or to sleep. He brought sunflowers to put by her bed one day, hoping to see Y/N smile at them when she awoke. He watched as her larger wounds slowly started to close. Sometimes he would hear something inside her crack, assuming the sound was her bones going back into their proper positions. The doctor had told them that would happen as she healed herself. Sometimes Y/N would flinch in her sleep, gripping the blanket draped over her. Bucky would always touch his hand to her’s gently until she relaxed her grip. He liked to think Y/N knew he was there by her side.

It was day six with Y/N under sedation. Bucky got himself up off his makeshift bed on the floor, dragging himself to the bathroom for a quick shower before he would check on Y/N. He exited the bathroom dressed in jeans and a black t shirt, rubbing a towel through his hair as he walked down the hall. He froze when he heard some laughter coming from the other side of Y/N’s and Wanda’s door. He knocked gently, hearing Wanda say come in. He opened the door slowly, immediately looking over to Y/N. His blue eyes met her red ones and his insides melted. All the worry left his body. She was awake. He walked over and sat in the chair by her, “Hey..” Was all he managed to say as he reached out and touched her hand, smiling when she grasped his hand back.

“Hey.” Y/N replied with a small smile, still feeling a little loopy from the now lowered sedation. She was almost all healed besides some of the larger gashes. She also felt extremely sore as her body was pulling itself back together, “You’re just in time to meet McDreamy.” She said, motioning her free hand towards the tv that was playing an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Bucky chuckled, giving her a crooked smile, “Ah, I get to finally see what this McDreamy is all about. Size up the competition.” He joked, leaning back in his chair as he kept his eyes on Y/N’s face.

Y/N giggled at his reply, “Oh no, you know where I stand with McDreamy. It’s McSteamy you should worry about. I got a thing for older guys.” She said softly, smiling at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh great, now there’s a McSteamy.” But smiled when she made her comment about older guys, knowing that was meant towards him. He looked over at Wanda as she exited the room, taking empty glasses with her to fill with water. He returned his gaze back to Y/N, reaching up with his vibranium hand to touch her face softly, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been there. I promised you.” He said softly, his smile changing into some sort of a defeated and guilty frown.

Y/N’s eyebrows came together as she listened to his apology, shaking her head, “No, Buck.” She said softly, “I should’ve came to you like you told me. He woke me up, singing in my head. I almost came into your room, but I didn’t. I should have. Dimitri did this, and Alexei.” She reminded, knowing now she should’ve just gone into his room. But then she wondered what would’ve happened if she did. She wondered if Clint would still be alive. She wondered if Alexei would’ve came in to get her, hurting whoever stood in his path. She sighed, leaning her head back against her pillow, closing her eyes at the thoughts. Her head ached from being thrown against that boulder from the explosion of the car, “Alexei is dead, right?” She asked softly, needing confirmation.

Bucky nodded, “You blew him up into pieces.” He reminded, wondering how much Y/N remembered.

Y/N sighed in relief hearing that Alexei was dead, “ It was the only way I could think of keeping him down. He would’ve just kept coming unless… I killed him.” She whispered, just then realizing she had killed another being. Even if that person was Alexei and it was kill or be killed, it didn’t sit well with her, “Thank god for Clint and his hidden arsenals.” She muttered, then looked over at Bucky with concern, “Is he alright?”

Bucky nodded again, stroking his thumb along her hand gently. He could hear the guilt in her voice as she mentioned Alexei, “Barton is fine. A little bruised up, but he will be fine, thanks to you. We watched the security footage, you saved him.” He watched Y/N for a moment before speaking again, “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me next time you hear Dimitri that you won’t hesitate to find me.” He lifted his right hand from her grasp to gently stroke her hair.

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling suddenly tired again, “I promise, Bucky.” She whispered back, her eyes fluttering as if she was fighting the sleep until she gave in, asleep again. It took a lot out of her as her body healed itself. Although the pain was subsiding, she knew her body was still injured and would take a while longer until she was able to push herself normally.

Wanda helped Y/N over the next couple days as she continued to heal. As much as Y/N hated the help, she accepted it. Y/N didn’t really feel the pain anymore, but the doctors had assured her time and time again that even though she didn’t feel the pain, it was still there and she needed to take it easy which meant Wanda was constantly tending to her every need like she was a helpless child.

“I don’t need you to sit in the bathroom while I shower, Wanda.” Y/N said as Wanda took a seat on the cupboard by the sink. Y/N folded her arms as if refusing to take off her clothes, the hot water in the shower behind her causing the mirror to steam up.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “And what if you fall again? You want to sit there embarrassed for another hour, or would you like me to help you up and not tell a soul?” She bargained, then closes her eyes, “I’m not peeking, get in there.” She demanded, using her ability to open the shower curtain, “And don’t make faces at me.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out at Wanda as if admitting defeat, before shedding her clothes and stepping into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind her. She winced a little as the hot water ran down her skin. She took the time to look at all of her new scars from Alexei, tracing them softly. She quickly finished washing her hair, scrubbing her scalp and wincing. Her head and back hurt the most still from being slammed against the rock during the blast from the car. She turned off the shower as she finished to find a floating towel on the other side of the shower curtain, Wanda smiling with her eyes still closed. Y/N snatched the towel and dried herself off before changing into fresh clothes. Wanda helped brush through Y/N’s hair gently, careful to avoid putting too much pressure as she knew Y/N’s head still was sensitive.

—

Bucky sat with Steve in the training area of the facility, just getting done sparring with each other. It had been a good release for both of them from their anger over what had happened to Y/N. Bucky looks at Steve, “I lied to you before, Steve.”

Steve looked at him confused, “About what?” He questioned. Bucky never lied to Steve for as long as they knew each other. Bucky would always just dodge questions he didn’t want to answer, but never lie.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his hair, “After Thanos. When you came back from returning the stones. You told me about how you wished you would’ve stayed back in time with Peggy, experience life with her but couldn’t do it because it felt selfish. You asked me if I would’ve done the same thing, go back and live a normal life in my own time.” He paused, looking at his vibranium hand before looking back to Steve, “I told you no. That was lie. If I had the opportunity, I would’ve been selfish. I would’ve gone back and kept the promise of that date to Y/N without even thinking about it. She would’ve been the one I went back for.” He said softly, imagining what it would’ve been like for himself and Y/N if he was able to go back in time and keep his promise to her. He wouldn’t have allowed her to be taken by Hydra, he would’ve protected her and had a long life showing nothing but love to Y/N.

Steve nodded at Bucky’s words. Everyday he realized more that the way he felt about Peggy, that undying love, was the same Bucky felt for his sister, “There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about Peggy. I wish everyday I would’ve taken that opportunity to go back and be with her.” He remembered, looking into the distance with his blue eyes as if he was day dreaming, before returning his look to Bucky, “You get the opportunity to try again with Y/N, though. You don’t have to go back.” He said, patting Bucky’s shoulder, “Just don’t screw it up.” Steve stood up to leave the training room, accepting the fact that whatever feelings Bucky and Y/N had for each other was something he needed to just step out of the way of.

“I won’t.” Bucky said with a small smile. Hearing that Steve seemed to finally be accepting of the feelings between him and Y/N made him happy, calm. He didn’t have to worry about what would happen to his friendship with Steve as he pursued his relationship with Y/N. He got himself up and followed Steve out, going to clean himself up before he went to see Y/N.

Bucky walks into his room after his shower, rubbing his hair with a towel to dry. He wore only black sweatpants and his dog tags, planning to change into something nicer before seeing Y/N. He shut the door behind him and turned to look in his room, pausing seeing Y/N’s red eyes staring back at him from his recliner. He smiled as he saw her sitting there, “What’re you doing in here, doll?” he asks, throwing the towel in a clothes hamper.

Y/N watched him enter the room, biting her bottom lip at the sight of his bare chest and his dog tags dangling. He looked perfect, like some sort of god. His words snapped her back to reality and she looked from his chest to his eyes, meeting his gaze, “I was looking for you.” She said, a smile crawling across her lips, “Is.. that your bed?” She ask, pointing at the blankets and pillows on the floor where an actual bed should be.

Bucky grinned as her saw her eyes flicker from his body to his face, wondering if that was want he saw in her eyes for a moment. He looked where pointed to his make shift bed, before looking back to her, “Uh, yeah. I guess I’m just used to sleeping on a harder surface.” He explained, walking past her to the closet and pulling a shirt out his closet, pulling it over his head. He watched Y/N look at his chest once more before it disappeared under the shirt, grinning again to himself, “What can I do for you, darlin?”

Y/N nodded as he spoke about his bed, watching him put his shirt on, shielding her view. Her eyes flickered back to his face, “I was just escaping Wanda’s watchful eye, she won’t even let me shower by myself yet.” She said with a sigh, “Which I appreciate her taking care of me, just sometimes she seems like a helicopter mom. A helicopter mom I love to bits.”

Bucky laughed at her analogy, secretly appreciating Wanda keeping an eye on Y/N. He knew as well she wasn’t fully healed and needed to take it easy for a little longer, “Well after what you went through, I don’t blame her. We all have been watching you, just her a little more closely.” He said with a smile, leaning against his desk as he crossed his arms, “How have you been since Alexei, you know, mentally?” He asks curiously. Her body had mostly healed, just leaving behind scars. But he knew better than anybody that the trauma can live in the mind for years.

Y/N gripped the arms of the recliner with her fingers for a moment as he asks, then brings her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as she sat in the chair, wincing at the slight pain in her back from the movements, “I did what I had to do, but I still feel guilty even though it was kill or be killed.” She said softly, her eyes moving to look at the hardwood flooring, “There was a moment out there, where he had me by the neck against a tree after the crash, I closed my eyes. I wondered if I should just let that be it, let him just get it over with so Dimitri had no reason to come back to this facility.” The words passed her lips, looking over to Bucky for a moment to see a pained look on his face at his words. She continued, returning her gaze to the floor, “But then I thought of Steve. Of Wanda. And.. you.” Her eyes flickered back to his face, “I didn’t want last moments with any of you. I wanted more. I wanted to live a life with my brother in it, to watch all the dumb tv shows with Wanda and laugh. I wanted more moments with you.” She paused, taking a deep breath, “I wanted to be close to you again. So I fought, even though my body couldn’t take much, and I killed him.”

Bucky watched her closely, his face flushing over with sadness and pain for a moment as Y/N talked about giving up. Hearing that she wanted more moments with him and be close to him, he relaxed a little. He walked over, crouching down in front of her and placing both his hands around her legs that were secured to her chest, meeting her gaze, “I’m happy you made the decision to keep fighting for the things you want.” He said softly to her, lifting his right hand to touch her face which she turned into, accepting his touch, “As selfish as it may sound, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t.” He pulled his hands away, reaching to his collar and lifting the dog-tags from his neck, removing them for the first time since he got them back. He gently placed them around Y/N’s neck, smiling at her again, “Just a reminder that I’m always here for you, always close to you.”

Y/N shook her head at his gift, “Bucky, these are yours. I can’t-“ She began to take them off to give them back, knowing it was an important object to him.

Bucky grabs her hands, stopping Y/N from removing them, “They are a symbol of my past life before I was the Winter Soldier.” He said softly, “And when I look at you, I realize you are my past, present, and future life. They belong to you.”

____________________________________________________________

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