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lxngbottom · 4 years ago

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Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L.

in which neville stumbles across... an “old friend”.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, pregnancy, slight trauma mentions (lmk if i missed any!)

i got inspired for this by an outsider imagine that i read like a really longgggg time ago... so enjoy this ig (AND YES THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS)

(PART 2)

—

neville’s whole life had been filled with regrets. they seeped into his skin, torturing his clouded mind on day to day basis. the trauma from the second war had left a mark on him, and even though he was now in the infamous herbology professor at hogwarts, he still didn’t feel as if he was living the life he had always wanted to. he didn’t feel successful, he didn’t feel... good about himself. and the main source of that?

you.

his biggest regret was losing you. hurting you. leaving you in such a needing time.

it had all started after the war. you two had been inseparable since 2nd year, as you were the one who had helped him down from the chandelier when he was tragically hung up by those pesky pixies. and ever since then, he was enamored with you. he was consumed by the mere thought of you. and, your feelings didn’t differ too much.

so, you two became official in your 4th year. you two were each other’s firsts for practically everything that could be a first. and, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. you were so in love with him, it tore you from the inside out.

but unfortunately, the war arrived. and, it took a huge toll on your relationship. it affected each bit of what you guys had built together. after the war had ended, you guys tried so hard to make it work. but, neville... it seemed as if he just... gave up.

you would never forget the day you came home from work to your shared apartment, and heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. you went up, deep down, already knowing what the noises were. and of course, when you opened the door, your worst nightmare had became a reality. and even worse?

you were pregnant.

neville knew this too, but, he felt as if he had spent so long being “stuck” in a relationship with you, he never got the chance to meet new people. and because of that, for the sake of your child, you left. because, he had left you first, and he had done something unforgivable. something that would leave you scarred, and something that would take hold of you for years.

but, now things were different for you. you were more than content with where your life was at right now. you had an amazing job as the journalist for the daily prophet, and you were damn good at it too. it was a collective agreement that you were definitely a step up from rita skeeter.

neville couldn’t disagree more, though. not that he didn’t think you were good at your job, he always thought that you were an amazing writer. but, he had to force himself to cancel his personal subscription to the daily prophet, as the simple mention of your name on the front page, or sometimes, maybe even your picture, broke his heart to see. some from guilt, but mostly, from just missing you.

just five years later, here you were. walking through a muggle hardware store, looking at all of the houseplants that surrounded the small garden.

“mummy, look!”

you whipped your head around, and smiled when you saw your small son, chubby just like neville used to be when he was young. you had always tried to disregard the fact that he looked exactly like his father, but it was difficult to. you loved your son, with everything you had in your body, but, he was a constant reminder of all the pain that had been caused.

“very nice, nev!” you giggled, watching as your son played with a single pink flower bouquet. he grinned at you, and suddenly plucked the fresh flower off of it’s stem. you gasped, and wanted your hand at him, “neville longbottom! we don’t do that! do you want to get in trouble?!”

his face contorted into a guilty one as he made those ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes at you, “i’m sorry, mum... i-i-i didn’t know. i was trying to pick it for you...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty as he sadly dropped the broken off flower on the floor, watching as it blew away from the huge fan that hung above the both of you.

“it’s okay, dear. but, try not to pick them from the actual stems, okay? just... look on the floor. you’ll see a bunch of free flowers everywhere.” you teased, sending him a small smile. he looked up at you, and those sad puppy dog eyes quickly sparkled with excitement as he ran away, looking around the garden for those small, long forgotten flowers.

you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched your son, seeing how his eyes glowed from all of the plants.

yeah. he was definitely neville’s son.

you turned your body back around, attempting to continue your shopping. but, your body then collided with another, causing you to come to a complete halt.

“oh, merlin! i’m so—“ you were just about to spurt out multiple apologies, until, you looked at the figure.

there he was. tall, muscular, and a intent gaze fixated on his face as he stared at you.

“n—neville?”

he was so shocked. he couldn’t even let out a single mutter. you were right there. right in front of him. after not seeing you for so long, but thinking about you always, you were finally right here.

“y/n...” he breathed out finally, trying to not show how incredibly nervous he was.

this was the first time you two had seen each other since the day you packed all of your things, and left him standing alone at the door step that once belonged to the both of you. he could never seem to part with the apartment, the whole environment still leaving trails of you. so, of course, he still resided there during his off times.

“um—wow... shit—i’m sorry. you know... for bumping into you...” he laughed nervously, stepping away from you. you gave him a nervous chuckle as well, trying to hide the redness that was now blending within your skin.

“oh—it’s alright. i should’ve—you know... been watching where i was going...”

neville opened his mouth to respond, as he wanted to ask you so many things. but, he was interrupted by a small child running up to you, tears streaming down his face as he clutched onto your leg.

“mum...” he sniffled out, and you looked down with a concerned look on your face, “t-t-the lady yelled at me...i-i-i accidentally b-broke one of the f-f-flowers...”

neville knew those eyes. he knew that familiar stutter. he knew those tears. it was like practically looking into a mirror.

that was his son.

you looked over at neville nervously, seeing realization flashing in his green orbs. but, you bent down to neville jr, who was an absolute mess. he never took kindly to people getting onto him, especially if they were yelling.

“oh... it’s alright, nev. we have a whole garden at home that we can grow flowers in...” you reassured him, wiping his small tears. he nestled into your touch, “why don’t you go and pick out some seeds? any kind you like... i’ll get them for you.”

there was a shy smile on his face as you said that, and he looked over at the strange man that stood baffled beside you.

“okay...” he sniffled, wiping his nose, “but... who’s that?” he asked, pointing to neville.

you had never told your son about his father, and you had hoped that he never would. but, you knew the day would come. you just didn’t think that day would be today.

“an old friend, darling. now, do as i say and go find some flowers, alright?”

your son nodded, reluctantly leaving you with the tall man that he had no idea the identity of. you stood up fully awkwardly, and looked over at neville who’s face was now angry.

he watched as the boy ran off, “he doesn’t know who i am?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at you.

you looked back at him, “nev—“

“no... how could you not tell him? that’s my son, y/n. you—you told me you were putting the baby in adoption... how could you lie to me? and him? why would you do that?”

you knew you owed the man an explanation, but all at the same time, he had brought this upon himself. and yeah, maybe it was fucked up that you had lied to him, but, you genuinely did believe at the time you were getting rid of the baby.

“neville... not here. please...”

“no, y/n. you owe me a goddamn explanation. i mean... this is my fucking child we’re talking about. look at him! he looks just like me!”

you looked over at the chubby boy, watching him closely as he skimmed through seeds, staring at the images on the front.

“don’t you think i know that, neville?” you whispered, “listen... we can talk about this. but, not here. and, not while he’s around...”

“no! i want to talk to him! i deserve it—goddamn it, y/n! how could you fucking do this to me?!”

“and how could you cheat on me?! after everything we went through together! you fucking left me in the dust!”

he could see the pain in your eyes. there was obviously still a lot of hurt, so much rage pent up from the whole scenario. of course you had never fully gotten over it. it was still something you thought about on a daily basis, as you had believed at one point that you would be married to neville by now.

“y/n...” neville started, stepping closer to you, “i—i never meant to hurt you...”

you stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to find some sort of other answer other than that stupid apology you had heard so many times before.

“it doesn’t matter, longbottom. i have to go. we can talk about this whole thing another time. goodbye.”

#harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n

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everafterkeiji · 4 years ago

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Song: Getting Over You by Lauv

Summary: Unexpected things happen all the time but meeting him was one of the best parts of it.

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags, Genre: implied enemies to semi lovers! trope, slight angst, curse words, timeskip! Atsumu

A/N: pls i didn't intend to change it last minute but pls let me know if u liked it cuz im still having second thoughts <3

“No- I’m sorry.” Atsumu says as you felt your heart snap and break into two distant pieces. You already limited your expectations but there was a miniature amount of hope that you held onto and that was when you should’ve lost your grip.

“It’s fine, ‘Tsumu.”

It obviously wasn’t. No matter how loud the cries of your heart were, what mattered to you in this moment was to forget it ever happened- to run away and never face another failed trial of love. Atsumu can see past your smile and he hated the way it had to end in a way he avoided. There would be a time where his feelings would be up to confrontation but when it finally happened, he’d became a coward.

He was late to realize what the outcomes could lead to. How certain was he that your paths would meet again? How was he sure that he can revert this scenario in a better way that he wanted when you were losing your hold onto him?

“I have to go but it was nice knowing you, Miya.” Your lips were tugged in a weak smile while he questions why his body lacked the power to move but what resumes to play in his mind was the way his name escaped your lips like it was a curse to say it.

Turning your heel, there was an ache in Atsumu’s head. Was it regret? His decisions tied in knots? His emotions unable to declutter themselves? Hesitantly, he reaches for you. His hand wrapped around yours as you glanced down on his soft skin you used to despise to get near to.

His eyes told you stories that were hard to decipher all at once. His stories didn’t start with a setting, it started and ended with you, not a single page where you weren’t there but it seems like the chapters you had in your own story were being torn off to erase the traces of false hope.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.” He whispers while you felt his hand tighten to make sure that you could stay- even if it lasted for a minute because he wasn’t sure fate could spare you two another moment.

But then, you softly removed his hold on you while the cold sweat runs down his forehead.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu. We were just never meant for each other.”

We could’ve been.

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the player as both bow each other as a way of manner. You gathered your bag as the athlete turns to you with a kind smile.

“I enjoyed the interview. I’m impressed at how prepared and professional you are. How long have you been doing this?” He asks, adjusting his outfit while you toss your bag on your shoulder with your camera slung around your neck.

“There was a journalism club back in my high school and I joined in ever since I was a first year.”

“You’re in college now?”

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles at your formality while he gives a pat to your shoulder.

“That’s good to hear. Goodluck with everything- I believe that you’ve got bright things ahead of you.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment while you bid your goodbyes. You step out of the hotel feeling the satisfaction hit you like a prize. The report can finally be simplified into a few more subtle fixes and maybe by 1am, you’d be able to present it to your professor without doubting your work.

Sighing happily, you decided to reward yourself to a lovely lunch with a view you often visited due to a reminiscent feeling that bubbles in your system. After ordering, you sat outside admiring the way the sun sets and leaves a lasting beauty before the moon shows.

The stress was fading from you. You had expected that the project would’ve taken weeks for you to finish knowing that some retired athletes usually avoid questions to why they left the sport they used to love. You had called a few, a struck of confidence was enough to make you do so but they often cancel your request because they either paid attention to your young age or because they weren’t ready to be asked such personal questions about them. You were lucky to score and interview with a well-known athlete whose had his fair share of the spotlight during his early 20’s. Sadly, his retirement was due to an accident and his weak body levels couldn’t bare the adrenaline of the sport. He was kind, patient, and understanding. Ever since he agreed, your attention was on the questions you’d lay upon him seeing that this was an opportunity you can’t waste. After gathering some of his past glories, you narrowed down your interrogation on what remains important to benefit the topic of your project. You were more than proud because of the compliment he had given you and the fact that you might be able to catch a break after a hectic week.

Opening your camera and flicking through the photos to decide on which you were going to use. Suddenly, a photo meets your sight. The peak of blonde and gray hair with a uniform that you missed.

The Inarizaki Volleyball Team.

Most especially, him.

A few years has passed since you’ve seen him and his brother. Osamu’s last interaction with you was filled with nothing but sweet memories and a hug that you could never forget the warmth of, while Atsumu’s last memory with you remained bittersweet- like a sour flavor in his tongue that never left. You tried too hard to forget fragments of your time with him but because of how much work you put yourself through, you lost time to reflect on the moments that didn’t hurt.

Half of your high school life was compressed into confusing parts of your story.

But the chapter that seems to be the most influential part of it, was where you got to meet the blonde who has stomped on your heart.

It was funny to be remembered as a person who had the guts to sneeze during the great Miya setters serve.

“Achoo!”

You immediately cover your face with your handkerchief as your sneeze echoed through the gym making Atsumu’s hand lose its power because he was stunned by the sound, the ball hitting the net instead as he almost hits Aran who was wide eyed that ball went his way. The team could hear Osamu’s ‘uh-oh’ and it was enough for them to know what the setter feels after the unfortunate event.

Atsumu grits his teeth as the other team cheers knowing they got the score while his head jolts to the crowd, aggressively searching for the one who messed up his serve. Even eyeing his fans who got scared by the way he turned his head in their direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve got glares surrounding you as your friend nudges you, letting out an exhale of disbelief that you’ve got death stares.

“We’ll get the next point ‘Tsumu, don’t worry.” Osamu says landing a hand to his brothers' shoulder while Atsumu readies himself for the serve of the opposite team.

“Whatever.”

After that certain match, Atsumu was more than determined to hunt down whoever caused the flunk of his serve. Silly as it is, he’s never heard someone dare to speak during his serve. He’d always let out a hand signal for them to be quiet- let it be known that if someone spoke, he’d be fine with it but a whole sneeze? He’d never let it go, especially when it resonated in his ears.

So, imagine the look on his face when he hears the exact same sound when he was just stopping by his locker.

“Fucking dust.” You said sniffling as you closed the door to your locker, and you were face to face with a wide-eyed Miya Atsumu holding out his finger and pointing it to you, as if he was accusing you of murder.

“It’s you!” He shouts making you raise your eyebrow at him, but the raise of his voice had intimidated you.

“What?” You asked him, not finding a single clue on whatever he was pertaining to.

“You messed up my serve by sneezing.” He says in the tone of ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ making you lick your lips, a hand to your hip as you looked at him.

“I’m not apologizing for something I can’t control.” You were completely baffled by this man. Sure, you were his classmate, but this was your first year and you barely cared to take notice of all of them, only focusing on your school group that had you busy.

“You could’ve held it for like 2 more seconds at least.” You blinked before letting out a tired exhale as you eye him up and down. The setter of the school's volleyball team, you were aware of that because of how many matches you’ve been dragged to, but he’s never come up to you before.

This was a whole other introduction.

“Miya, right?” You asked him as he steps forward, looking down on you with a sly smirk.

“I guess I’m sorry.”

Atsumu stays silent for a few seconds but returns to his angry pout as he continues to stare at you.

“What’s your name?” Atsumu asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Y/N.”

From thereon, it looked like your life’s plot had spiked up. Atsumu was- you could call it as a miscalculation. Someone so loud and had his ego constantly fed was not someone you would stick around due to your strict schedule of balancing schoolwork and papers from your club. It was like a bump in the road wherein the objects in your car would’ve been juggled around because of the impact- that's what it felt like. Thinking that two years would’ve passed by like a breeze, time slowed down with him. The constant bickering and arguments were embedded in you like a tattoo. The way his cackle would echo through your ears when he’d struck a nerve to you, the way he’d purposely call you nicknames you swore you hated, to the same jokes can be dragged on for hours, and how every fiber of your body promised you’d leave when you’ve had enough.

But promises were always broken.

You stuck around and he did too. Atsumu provided you with his trust and company whenever you needed it. It’s a pleasant experience but it surely wasn’t at its best. What comes with it were headaches and harsh words but having a person who knew you until graduation and stayed was a different reason. He was a familiar, a person who isn’t a call away when you needed it but being in their presence would give you a pinch of comfort.

Maybe the only thing you can thank Atsumu for is getting to know his twin brother.

You accidentally sent a text to Osamu about you panicking about a missing file to be passed the following day and Osamu was up and ready to help you locate it. After finding it, you decided to treat him for being a life saver and he of course, was having the time of his life for the free food- it was also his favorite restaurant at that moment. During this time, you’ve got to talk more about each other. Months pass now Osamu and you were way better friends than you and his brother.

You and Osamus’ bond were the type that was just so serene, hardly any type of judgement when you’d bring up a problem, and all secrets were kept tight.

Osamu was the shoulder you can lean on, while Atsumu’s would shove your head away when you do so.

Your friendship drifted away when Atsumu stabbed your heart with the words “No.” and “I’m sorry.” You hesitated that day, to dial Osamu’s phone the way you used to, but it never happened. Your sobs muffled your voice and if you called him, he’d never understand a word that you’d say.

The opposite is that Osamu would understand everything.

Because you and Atsumu mirrored the same amount of pain.

He’d never seen his brother so- ruined. Atsumu’s thin walls didn’t shield his shouts of sorrow while Osamu withstood every bit of the torture show his brother had. Checking him on the next day, the setter was fast asleep with bags under his eyes and a red nose, clutching onto his pillow so tightly.

Osamu knew that day that the damage has been done and not a single band aid would mend the two shattered hearts.

Atsumu strolls to the around looking for a restaurant along with his teammates. The sun has fully set making the streets of Japan light up with how busy and crowded they were. Bokuto and Hinata were busy pointing at stands that had their favorite slabs of meat while Sakusa trails behind them with a mask, wanting to be removed from the push of people. As the eyes of the blonde land on a certain stand with multiple notes stuck onto a board, he smiles fondly. He then sees two kids running with smiles on their lips as they held each other's hand, obviously excited to explore the night.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” Atsumu says as you rolled your eyes and thought hard about his hand that was held out in front of you. Atsumu grunts before taking your hand in his before you could even decide properly. You followed his lead as he walked you through the sea of people. You were nervous that he had left practice to accompany you. Observing you from afar, you looked devastated, but you continued the rest of the day with a smile like nothing happened. Seeing that you looked dull talking to Karou, he pulled you away from whatever void of sadness you surrounded yourself in.

“Atsumu shouldn’t you be at practice?” You asked sighing, still with his hand in yours as you stopped by a stand.

“I should be but whatever that Karou did is obviously hurting you, you idiot.” Your eyes widened at his statement and this reaction confirmed his suspicions as anger forms inside of him. What could that boy have done to get you this upset? Did he physically hurt you? Atsumu hated how he cared- it wasn’t his business to meddle with but the frown on your lips was something he wanted to remove from you.

“Thank you.” You muttered as he buys you the same thing he ordered. He sees how you weren’t as colorless as before. The lights of the night brought saturation to your features as his eyes adored every feature of yours.

“It’s nothing.”

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder while the blonde awakens from his escape.

Atsumu looks around once more, seeing that there wasn’t a trace of you, he moves on.

Like he was supposed to do in the first place.

“For our new assignment, why don’t we take the vice versa of your last project. Retirement is inescapable but why not find the reason they’d got into the sport. What makes it so exhilarating and unforgettable? That will be our topic this week. I’m giving you a week for interviews, photos, and articles. Video format is more suited for this task. Is that clear?” You all nodded as you wrote down the list of possible athletes to meet, jotting down an outline of some key points to remember.

“A tip for you all: look for the younger generations. It doesn’t matter to me what status the athlete stands in right now, it could be a friend or even a child. What I’m looking for the depths of the details in your research.” The professor stands making all of you bid him goodbye as he walks out of the room. You gathered your notebooks, sighing that you won’t have the time to properly rest- an exam was near right at the submission of your new task. You realized that you needed to sort out the things you were required to do before everything would pile up and get tangled in the short amount of time.

Who should I interview? God, everyone is so busy at this season. You thought. It’s true- you realized that matches were always lined up by this month. You also had classes to attend to and your mind could collapse at any given moment. You were more than worried about organizing your time properly but the feeling that you’d have several sleepless nights haunts you. You wished he could have extended the submission- though it didn’t get any better since after exams you tended to be drained from studying all night.

Going back to your apartment, you decided to put sticky notes all over your wall to help you sort out your priorities. Tomorrow would be Saturday meaning that you’ve done all the works to be passed on Monday and that you had zero meetings or classes. Saturday and Sunday would be divided to work parts, by Monday you should be up and running to work again.

You couldn’t let go of this group. It had given you countless of opportunities- even an offering to be an editor at a well-known magazine agency. You were in queue for the letter, so you decided to continue with the tasks of the group. You were thankful that you got used to the craziness of it all. The ability to multitask, to put the phone down once in a while, managing your time, those were just one of the benefits of getting used to it. The things you hated was that you barely had time for yourself. To lounge and just do nothing never met with what you were doing. You envied how some people from your group would plan some hang outs during a busy week and you always questioned how they managed to do it all without panicking.

You yawned as you felt your stomach growl at the scent of the delicious street food. Seeing that you fell short on money because the amount that was in your wallet was enough for your way home, it meant you’d have to wait to eat dinner until you came home. Letting out a groan you decided to walk your way even if you get shoved. God, you were starving and exhausted. The emotions were starting to fill you the more you moved. It didn’t help that everyone was so loud. You could hear the sound of the cackles from the drunken men in the corner, the cries of the baby that brought irritation to your eardrums and even the off-key singing of a (possibly) drunk girl at karaoke. You just wanted to cover your ears and crawl back to your bed not caring if you’d only be able to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep.

As you walked, you felt a boiling pile of liquid drip to your stomach making you let out a yelp as your clothes were drenched in the coffee stain that you despised. The liquid got to your skin making you wince at just how it impacted on your skin. You felt your eyes water as the woman tried to pat away the drink but instead made it worse because you wanted the fabric to be away from you as possible- which was the opposite of what she was doing.

“Oh my god- I'm so sorry.” She kept saying while patting your abdomen while you tried to wave her off, but she kept going making the tears flow from your eyes as you chose to walk away, covering your face at how humiliated you were. You sobbed in your hands as you bumped into someone before removing them from your face to find a bench to sit on but seeing that people were already turning their heads to look at you, you’ve had enough already.

Finally finding your bus stop, you sat down burying your face in the palm of your hands sobbing as your mind replays how you’ve made a fool out of yourself for the last time. Everything was going terribly and you didn’t know how to control it without losing your cool. Sure, you’ve managed to escape the people but the feeling is still badly glued to you.

“Is everything okay?”

Someone asks but the voice became a blur to you because you were so focused on your sobs and the unstable breathing.

“Go away.” You whispered but there was a weight added to your left side as you kept your face hidden behind your hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” The man says looking down before standing up to leave the bench, making you intake in a sharp exhale, relieved he left.

“Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How am I gonna interview a volleyball player at this state?” You rambled on thinking that guy has exited your business and was free from companion.

“I mean- we’re not close- but I’m a volleyball player?”

You wiped your eyes as your heart started to run a mile now that you’ve familiarized yourself with his voice.

Lifting your head, there in front of you was the one thing that your heart had wished to see.

“Atsumu?”

His eyes widen as his chest expands, his heart growing ten times bigger than it was while it beats like a drum on heavy metal song.

“Y/N- I didn’t know- wow.” Breathless, speechless, weak- those were the words that defined your emotions. You wanted to pass out- to act like you just mistaken him for a person but he was real and you had a hard time believing it.

“Atsumu?" God, he missed it. The way his name would fall of those taunting lips of yours. The tone in your voice leading him back to the memories that he couldn’t push away.

You had to believe it. There was no other way that your starvation can make you this delusional. You called his name like you were unsure that he was ever real- like a character your brain had developed to cope with your sorrows. You dared to touch him, maybe if you did it would be a wisp of air but you were scared that if you reached out to him, you could feel his skin and remember how you wanted it to be within your grasp all the time.

Perhaps it’s a dream but this time you’d never want to wake up if this was the only way you can be together.

“Y/N..I- how are you?” How could he manage to act so civil? Your presence shocked him like electricity in his veins, pumping his heart at an unusual speed. His voice was unsteady and low, experiencing the same thoughts like you.

It’s like he was dragged back to your last encounter. Seeing your eyes filled with so much agony and how you looked so torn from his rejection, it’s the same look that you had now. It’s like his eyes were playing a risky game with him but he couldn’t complain since he’s been wanting to see you ever since you let go.

“Well, I’m burned-out that’s for sure.” You said with a light chuckle as he sits back down, wondering if it’d be alright to be close to you.

“What’s this interview about?” He asks, fiddling with the strings of his jacket while you tore your eyes away from him because you knew the admiration for him would erupt anytime soon.

“What got athletes into the sport in the first place.” Atsumu places his finger under his chin, thinking deeply about what offer he just made.

It’d mean that he could be in the same room with you for more than the hours he spent crying to himself but why waste the chance? You needed it- heck you wouldn’t be this distraught if you weren’t so affected by it. There was a never-ending list of things to do but meeting with Atsumu wasn’t even in your list of expectations because you were over with hoping into something that takes a miracle.

But he is the miracle.

“Atsumu..I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said, looking down on your hands that were on your lap, letting your hair fall in front of you to avoid his concerned gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, this is not what I planned to look like when I first see you.” Atsumu feels his heart frown at how low you spoke of yourself, but he understood. If you saw him in the state that you were in right now, he too would feel like he could’ve done or look better, even at least handle the situation without crumbling apart.

He knew you were in a troubled place of your mind but he just wonders where you could talk about why everything fell apart.

He missed the way it was casual to talk to you. Maybe an insult as a greeting, or a flick to the arm but he never expected to talk to you with his heart dropping in your hands. He just couldn’t forget the way you’d let him go that day during graduation, it’s almost like the sensation was still lingering around his palm even if he held a ball.

He just wished he said yes, only then, you’d be meant for each other.

“Do you mean it?” You asked sighing, not baring the weight of his silence. The pace of his heart quickens as he starts to worry if this was the confrontation that he held back all these years.

“The interview.” He was more than glad to do it. He was thankful that you weren’t talking about the bad memories or the circle of tension you two were in.

He looks at you while another strike was given to his heart seeing you this way. He’d do everything to bring back the color in your features.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words as you both stand up but you felt conscious about the stain that was still stuck to your shirt making you desperately try to hide it by pulling your bag to the messed up section. Atsumu didn’t know that the person he had followed was the same person that got coffee dipped down on them. He didn’t recognize you at first because you had your hands covering your cries. He was worried for you when you ran off but when he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe if it was luck or a granted wish.

“Just wear this.” He says, handing you placing his jacket on your shoulders as your heart flutters at how he looked at you, completely filled with sincerity and the way his hand stayed on your shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asks you with a knife-like stare, purposely bumping harshly into you.

“Wow Miya, I was just walking.” You said returning the same fuel that he had.

“Then get out of my way then.”

“Thank you.” You said smiling lightly. He catches a glimpse of your smile and he feels his world light up at the sight of it.

I missed you.

“So where to?” He asks as you walk beside him just like old times. His height still intimidating you but it was still difficult to believe that this was the same Atsumu you had fallen for in high school.

“My apartment. We missed the bus so I hope it’s okay for you to wait.”

“I can always drive us there.” You’ve never whipped your head faster than this moment. You always trusted Osamu when he said that Atsumu couldn’t be a better driver than his own brother because Atsumu liked to rev up the engine like one of those scenes in a movie.

With the thought in your mind, you laughed.

Atsumu stops walking as he lets himself dwell at the sound of it.

Then there was a smile that he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry for laughing, ‘Tsumu. Never pictured you to have a car earlier than ‘Samu that’s all.” You explained as he chuckles, continuing to be beside you, a place that he finds himself to be the happiest.

“Yeah yeah I get it- I’m a little careless but not all the time y’know?” He says while he leads the way. The breeze felt comfortable now, it had a tweak of coldness but maybe it was just the atmosphere of you two.

When you walked to his car and told him your address, there was another silence but you tried to tell yourself that this was just Atsumu. Nothing to be worried about because you’ve known him for too long to act like all distant.

This is Atsumu- that's every reason that there is to feel nervous around him.

“How long have you been living there?” He asks while you started to feel just how badly you wanted to give in to sleepiness. You shifted once in a while to control yourself from falling asleep in his damn car. Every urge to just lay quiet for a while but you knew this would lead to a deep slumber.

“Ever since graduation.” You answered, annoyed that his jacket was inviting you to lay there and sleep away your stress though you were scared that once you wake up- Atsumu would be gone again.

“And you didn’t call to tell me about it?” He jokes but the chuckle that he expected never came because he knew just how awkward it’d be if you actually called just for that sole reason. Atsumu bites his lip at his failed attempt to drag the conversation on.

Then you giggled.

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t wanna bother the famous MSBY player.” You said smiling at him, proud that he continued on. You knew from Osamu of course, a single update when he had mentioned how well his restaurant had become, you also saw them in a poster once, even recognizing a few of his past opponents.

“Well, it would be a shame.”

There you are.

You finally arrived at your apartment and again you felt the slice of satisfaction as you removed your shoes and placed them on the table. You were partly thankful that your apartment was clean since you never have the time to spend a whole day in it only coming home late at night. Atsumu looks around as you prepare him a drink and a few snacks-it'd be rude not to.

Atsumu sees the photos where you won several awards for your loyalty and hardwork at your club. He sees how time passes and you grew into a version of you that he finds even more flawless then before. Your equipment and how everything was organized on your desk, he knew how much things changed because he used to see you doubt yourself every time you’d finish a paper but now you won awards because of them.

“Atsumu, is it alright if I shower real fast?” You asked while he raises a brow at you confused that you had to ask for his permission.

“Of course, Y/N- you didn’t have to ask.” He said chuckling while he sits on the couch, letting his eyes wonder around.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t rush yourself. Take yer time. “ He says while you smile at him before dashing to your room to gather new clothes, feeling like you’ve won a lottery with how happy you were to remove the coffee drenched top, tossing it to your laundry bin while you step into the shower enjoying the way the water decorated your skin, cleansing it from all the worries. While Atsumu scrolls on his phone to ease himself from the anxiousness. His finger would casually glide over Osamu’s phone number, to ask him what to do.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower like a whole new person. You saw the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up when you walked in but you pushed the thought away. He pats the seat next to him while you grabbed your notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the questions.

“Are there any uncomfortable questions you’d want to avoid?” You asked him while he shakes his head while you took note of the possible questions.

“Is it okay for the interview to be filmed?” He nodded while you leaned onto the pillow, sighing happily at how you’ve managed to calm down from the pile of embarrassment earlier.

“Thank you for doing this, ‘Tsumu- really you don’t know how much I appreciate you for this.” You said leaning your cheek on the side of the couch as Atsumu copies your actions staring at you lovingly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He says smiling while you returned to write a list of questions for him. With every time you look down on your notebook, Atsumu’s eyes never left you while his mind recalls every moment where he msised the opportunity to tell you just how beautiful you were.

Soon, you’ve fallen asleep while he lets the feeling sink in.

I’ve never wanted to hold you more than I do now.

He sighs before placing the blanket on your body while he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger tracing your cheek.

“You’ll never know how much I missed you.” He whispers while you shifted in your sleep meeting his face. Before he stands up, he feels you reach for him while he’s left surprise at your touch.

“Stay please.” You whispered while he smiles weakly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I always will.”

The morning comes and you felt the blush creep on your cheeks remembering how easily you felt asleep. You wondered if Atsumu stayed, if he left- you couldn’t really blame him. So yawning and stretching when you woke up, you certainly didn’t expect to see Atsumu cooking you some breakfast. You couldn’t even move your legs, every part of you has gone stiff just admiring the way he moves.

“Hey, good morning.” He greets with a wave, a spatula in his hand, a bright smile tugged on his lips.

“Atsumu- oh god I’m so sorry.” You said as you went to him. You caught a whiff of what he was cooking and you swore you could’ve drooled knowing you didn’t even got the chance to eat dinner. Atsumu knew that of course so he called Osamu up in the morning to serve you the best breakfast he could ever make. He was initially supposed to make you dinner but you fell asleep before he could do it so this was his rebound.

“Idiot, it’s fine. Just sit down on the table and I’ll prepare the food.”

“Atsumu-“

“Just go, Y/N. I promise it’s okay- you deserve to rest before you work again.” You couldn’t even think properly with his words. It was so minimum but it was something you’d forget to do- rest. Hearing him remind you that sets a new feeling in your system. You did obey him though, you sat on the table as he even handed you coffee for him and you, placing the breakfast on the table. God, he was everything. You thought that after a few years, you two would completely drift apart but it seems like you were wrong for the hundredth time.

“Please don’t even think about ways to thank me, it’s nothing to me. “ He says taking the seat next to you while you place the food on his plate. You couldn’t even utter a word at how grateful you were for him and he’d be happy to get used to seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Atsumu, after breakfast can we have a run down of the questions first?” You asked him, growing more comfortable.

“Yeah sure.”

You sat on the couch, placing your camera on the table aligning it to the best possible angle as Atsumu sits down in front of you. You had your notebook on your lap as he praises how you looked so professional even if it was just a practice.

“Ready?” You asked while he nods with a smile as you pressed the camera to shoot so you could keep your composure, even if you struggled to.

“What does the sport mean to you?” You asked him, your eyes glimmering with the suns rays hitting it perfectly, while the words were removed from Atsumus mind. Seeing his hesitation, you decided to reassure him.

“It’s fine if you can’t answer straight away. I can always change the question if you like.” You commented, smiling at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed to answer. He nods, still not finding the exact same words to describe what he wanted to say.

“I’ll change the question for now.” You said while he let’s out a sigh before listening to you once again.

“What was the biggest struggle in your career?” He sends you a worried stare but his mind nearly bursts at his answer.

“Getting over you.”

You dropped your pen on the couch as Atsumu continued to speak since this was the answer his heart was sure of responding to.

“I tried to forget- I did. For every year that passes, the more fucking harder it gets to act like I didn’t love you back when you walked away.”

“Atsumu-“

“I know I said no- I was too late to realize how stupid I was to be scared of falling for you. I couldn’t let myself be the man who could love you when all this time I tried to hate you because I knew I would hurt you- and I already did.”

We get hurt a lot but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you.

Love grew and died during your second year at Inarizaki.

Before Atsumu, you found Karou. A boy who was a new recruit to your group whose helped you multiple times and has shared a conversation with you about your similar likes. There was this strange infatuation with him that even Osamu had to question how deep was the bite of love on you. You’ve fallen, of course. Occasionally leaving notes on his desk to just let him know how he made your day but it never worked. He would only paste the note on another persons desk like it was nothing. Not even getting the reaction you wanted, it felt too normal when it shouldn’t be. Realizing how this was just rejection in the shadows, you gave up. Obviously heart broken at the mere thought of how your chances were blown away. When Atsumu saw how gloomy you were that day, he had to show you how much you didn’t need Karou and there grew a different bond between the both of you.

And with a bond like that, you became attached to him.

It was all becoming clearer and clearer as you realized that you fell for the wrong person first.

“You’re too stupid to fall for a douche like him. “ He says kicking the rock that was in front of him.

“You’re lucky with that admirer of yours, Miya. I’ve never seen someone stick around you for so long.” You teased. It’s true the half of the twin hearthrob has gotten himself a sincere admire. It wasn’t one of his crazy fans- this was a person who genuinely cared for him and the words on every note he received would make the poor boy blush uncontrollably and you envied how he’s yet to realize that he too was falling for this unknown person.

While you two were oblivious to the slip up of the universe, it took a toll on you.

Because the notes you’d leave on Karous desk, always ended up on Atsumu’s instead.

“I wanna meet them so bad. Just to see if they actually care and it’s not a prank. They haven’t given me a note and it’s been what a month? I doubt it was ever real.”

“With the amount of effort they gave, I’m sure it was real.”

It’s real for me even if it shouldn’t be.

There wasn’t any other way then to accept the feelings that stayed on your skin. The moments where you thought that being around Atsumu would bring you stressful banters and more, it turned into butterflies that surrounded your room. You chose to deny it at first but remembering that graduation and good-byes were near, you had to tell him at some point.

And when you did, you poured your heart out and not even a single drop was caught.

“Last words before I forget your dumbass?” He taunts while you felt your sweat drip down the side of your forehead as you couldn’t control it anymore. You wondered if there was a simple word to describe just how much you adored him without turning it into a whole speech. This was it- you had to do it or else you’d end up being stuck on the feeling of loving him.

“I..like you Atsumu and I can’t say good-bye without telling you.”

Then there was the awful silence that he gave making you clutch onto your shirt, preparing you for the worst.

But by the way he looked so terrified and frozen, you knew.

“Atsumu?”

“No- I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I let you leave again.” He whispers as he leans closer to you, taking your hands in his while your ability to speak has been taken away by how gentle he was as his thumb caresses your hand and a look that looked so fragile.

He takes his hand and cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as his vulnerability increases.

“Do you feel the same too?” He was being so careful because a wrong choice of a word could make it all fall apart again and you could feel how tense he was but he holds you like a gem- something so beautiful that it’d cost him his life if he ever dropped you.

Your hand lands on the same hand that was on your cheek while Atsumu’s eyes widen remembering how you neglected to hold his hand before.

But it stayed.

Closing your eyes and melting in his touch, you spoke.

“I never stopped loving you, Atsumu.”

He lets his forehead rest on yours, a smile on his lips, who was soon to be on yours.

“Then be mine all over again.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu imagines #miya osamu #inarizaki

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livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years ago

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Tangerine

Request from @chanandlersstuff: Hi, can I request something from Mgk? As if he's on stage and can't find the reader in the crowd and gets a little scared, stops singing and starts asking his team if they see her and starts looking for her. Give it the ending you want. Thank you💛

Side note for your username, I love it!! Chanandler Bong is my husband’s favorite joke from the show.

Summary: visually impaired reader with synesthesia is separated from her friend at a Machine Gun Kelly concert (Tickets to my Downfall). Colson grows so nervous for her he stops the show to talk over the loud speaker so that she might find her way back by following the colors of his voice.

A/N: so I wrote this before picking a gif and it was a very happy accident that the colors match

The world was always beautiful to (y/n), but that was due to her inability to see what those around her could. She knew she was special from a young age, but she didn’t know how special she truly was until well into her early adult life. At six, she would rifle through her parents’ CDs and records in search for albums with a large variety of instruments playing various parts just so she could see a collection of colors dance her around her. Some of (y/n)’s friends laughed at her when she told them about her ability to see sounds, but one completely understood what (y/n) meant, after all, she could sense the personalities of numbers and letters. As the pair grew up, they learned more about their own forms of synesthesia, but (y/n) grew to be fully dependent upon her chromesthesia after an accident caused her to lose her eyesight.

(Y/N) could feel people crowded around her as a dull blanket of grey enveloped her mind. All she could see was grey under the low roar of people engaged in their own conversations before a small streams of orange and gold twisted together and danced through the air around her. The guitar intro of “title track” caused a smile to curl over her face as her childhood friend linked (y/n)’s arm in hers and the grey blanket became lumpy as the crowd around her began to jump up and down to the beat of the music as the song quickly sped up.

Colson loved performing, but there was something about Tickets to my Downfall that made it even more fun; maybe it was the connection he had with fans, the fact that it was a completely new genre of music, or maybe it was due to the isolation he felt from his fans during the pandemic and now that he was able to perform again, it felt like the first time. He loved watched the crowd’s reaction to each song--the hype that came with the first released single, Bloody Valentine, the tears that were invoked as he sang Play This When I’m Gone, and even the rage-like mosh pit that formed during Can’t Look Back.

Another one of Colson’s favorite things to do during shows was read the signs his fans made. Most of them consisted of sexual propositions, some were the run-of-the-mill, “My name is Kelly too,” signs, but one held by a young woman in standing-only section caught his eye.

Pink and gold swirled together as bursts of indigo extended across the sign from various points where the pink and gold met. It reminded Colson of the smoke that remained in the air after fireworks, but projected on the backdrop of a twilight sky. Faintly, and if he squinted, he could see his lyrics written on the board, “I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments. I’m having trouble operating without my main component,” along with the caption, “What my blind, synesthetic friend sees!”

(Y/N)’s friend was a gifted artist, and prior to the concert, the pair sat down and made a sign together. They played Nothing Inside on a loop until (y/n)’s friend completed the painting as (y/n) described, with as much detail as she could, what the colors coming from the ending words of the song were--what shades and hues they were, how they moved...what she saw when she heard the song.

When the young woman holding the sign noticed he was looking in her direction, she quickly pointed to the woman beside her whose arm was linked in hers. A smile formed on Colson’s face as he continued to sing through his set, but he made sure to wave at the girl so she could tell her friend. He could see (y/n)’s smiling face as her friend cupped her hands to her ear and told her he had seen the sign, and he smiled in return. She was cute, beautiful even in a girl-next-door kind of way, and he thought it was cool that she’d come out to support him with such an interesting sign. He’d heard about synesthesia before, but never thought someone with it would ever depict his music in an even more beautiful way than he could have imagined. The idea that someone who couldn’t see could see so much more than anyone else baffled him, and he jealously wondered what the rest of his songs looked like to her.

WWIII was a chaotic release of energy, not just for Colson, but for the audience as well. Another small mosh pit had formed early on in the short song, and seemed to escalate until the ending notes, when it stopped all together. The blanket of grey that had been lumpy earlier had turned into mountains shifting around (y/n) due to the forces of an earthquake, and the familiar grasp her friend had on her arm was replaced by the bumping and shoving of other people as she quickly became lost in the darkening grey mass that enveloped her.

“(F/N)! Hello?” (y/n)’s voice tried to pierce through the roar around her as WWIII sent bombshells upon bombshells hurdling at her arms and shoulders as she held her hands, instinctively, up to her face. She tried to focus on the colors nearby, but all she could see was the blue and green coming from the stage as the song built into its the verse before the final chorus. Suddenly, as the air around her became absent of color, and the grey sheet that had been continually moving and shifting around her settled gently down the the surface of the earth. Frightened, but not wanting to bring herself to tears around any number of strangers that could have surrounded her as she clumsily stumbled through the crowd, (y/n) firmly planted her feet into the ground and kept her ears attuned to the forest green voice of her friend.

“Sorry to cut it short, everyone,” Colson said through the microphone as he scanned the audience. He couldn’t help the many times his eyes had drifted back to the hand-painted sign and the beautiful woman who had inspired it, but this time, as his eyes landed on the sign, her gentle face was no where to be found. He had sung through part of the song on instinct as he exchanged concern glances with the woman’s friend, but upon seeing how distraught the friend had become, he cut the band off and turned to security. “Yeah, you’re looking for a woman in a black t-shirt and high-waisted dark blue jeans with her hair half-up and half-down. She’s blind and her friend can’t find her.” He could hear his voice growing even more frantic as he hid the microphone from his lips in hopes that he wouldn’t panic anyone. “Excuse me, girl with the sign with all the colors,” Colson called out and then waved the woman towards the stage. As if the crowd sensed something was wrong, they parted to make a path for the woman their idol was speaking to.

“I don’t know what happened,” (y/n)’s friend said as she continued to look over her shoulder for (y/n), nearly completely oblivious to the fact that Machine Gun Kelly was kneeling on the stage staring her in the face less than three feet away.

“What’s her name?” he asked as he looked at the sign once more.

“(Y/N).”

“And she has synesthesia?” he asked again in a slightly more panicked tone than before.

“Yeah. She can see colors even though she can’t see. Well, she could see before, but now it’s just colors on grey and black. If it’s quiet she can normally find me if I keep talking.” The young woman had begun to babble in the anxiety of losing her friend and Colson could feel his heartbeat hasten. He didn’t want to have someone go missing at one of his shows, and it made him feel even more shitty that it was someone he was actively keeping an eye on--albeit because he couldn’t look away.

“What about me?” the words fell from his mouth faster than they appeared in his head. “Do I have a distinct color?” The young woman nodded and Colson quickly stood to his upright posture and scanned the crowd. “Hey, (y/n),” he called into the microphone and hoped he could gain the woman’s attention. “I know you’re separated from your friend and I’m hoping you can see us. She’s here in the front by the stage, so just come this way and you should be able to find us.”

Bright, bubblegum pink sprouted like jagged vines from where the music had been coming from earlier. On each edge of where (y/n) assumed was the stage had to be two large speakers, because the pink seemed to crawl in curved arches from each speaker only to connect in the center point between the two. As she studied brilliant pink movement against the black backdrop of her vision, her name began to form in the vines as she heard it echo through the air around her. With her arms carefully outstretched, she began to take cautious steps in the direction of the only thing clear enough for her to see, bubblegum pink.

“The security team is headed through the crowd to find you, (y/n), so try and make yourself known.” (Y/N) could hear the deep voice that had rung through her headphones on countless occasions beckoning her to safety as the pink grew more and more brilliant with each word spoken.

“I’m (y/n),” she called out as she frantically waved a hand in the air above her head.

“You’re the person they’re looking for?” A man with a frail, lemon colored voice asked pointedly. (Y/N) nodded quickly in the direction of the voice and tried to reach out for someone to ground her in the moment, so she didn’t feel like she floating through a dark abyss. “Why don’t you just go over there? You’re friend is waiting,” the man questioned and was quickly met with a dumbfounded expression plastered on (y/n)’s face.

“I’d love to, but given the fact that I’m blind, I’m not so sure where ‘over there’ is,” she grumbled impatiently.

“I’m not sure it’s working,” Colson said as he knelt down to speak with (y/n)’s friend once more.

“Sing the sign,” she gasped. “She knows those words inside and out, and they’re always the same each time she hears it.” Colson’s eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion, but seeing as he had no other ideas to help find this woman, he obliged by the request.

“Okay, (y/n), I’m going to try something a little different,” Colson sighed into the microphone before he took another breath and began to slowly sing, “I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments.”

Suddenly, cascades of gold began to fill the space between the vines of pink spread out across the black canvas in her mind.

“I’m having trouble operating without my main component.”

As the words floated into her ears, the intertwined pink and gold began to form a path from their starting point to where she stood.

“I’m running low on serotonin in these empty moments.”

Bursts of indigo sputtered across the mass of colors on stage and traveled down the pathway to her feet.

“I’m having trouble operating without my main component.” As he repeated the lyrics, he could see a path begin to form as people moved to one side or another to allow a hesitant and cautiously walking young woman to make her way towards him. (Y/N) couldn’t hear the difference in Colson’s voice as he found her face in the crowd and realized she was safe, but she could see it. From the center of the collection of colors, rays of tangerine shot from where Colson stood like the sun. (Y/N) smiled at this new development in the painting before her and she began to walk a little faster towards the sun in the picture of her mind. The smile on her face grew when she felt a hand that was not her friend’s gently grasp hers and lead her behind what felt like a metal barricade, around what she assumed was the stage, and up a couple of steps.

“We’re on the side stage, VIP area,” she heard the forest green of her friend say, but (y/n)’s mind was still locked on the tangerine that refused to disappear. She’d heard the tangerine come from his lips before, but it was always directed at a single person, and no one else. Tangerine was always associated with a genuine, positively influenced emotion coming from one’s voice, and until that moment, in regards to Colson Baker, tangerine was something that was solely associated with Casie.

For the rest of the concert, (y/n) held her tongue between her teeth, listened to the colors swirl through the air, and let them paint a picture of the moment in her mind. With each song came a new collection of colors, but somethings always stayed the same: the black emptiness that she was cursed with, the bubblegum pink of Colson Baker’s natural voice, and the tangerine rays that sprung forth from him in his moments of weakness when he turned around to steal a glance at (y/n).

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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WINSoD - Pt.4

What You Need (Is What I’m About)

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, one more ;) Word count: 3400

Summary: In which fate has a strange sense of humour, the Maximoffs appear and... well.

Warnings: brief violence, mention of death, messing around in one’s brain, language, cutesy and fluff (yep, it’s all there)

Part 3

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You watched the kettle quiver as the temperature of the water climbed towards the boiling point. You’d like to say your blood was reaching it too, but despite the warm hoodie (Steve’s, naturally), you were feeling coldness seeping into your very core.

You hated waiting for him. You had never been a fan of it, sitting on your ass and stressing until he returned from a mission, bruised and usually bloody, but this time it was something else. This time, you had more than just a vague idea of what he was fighting; you had witnessed it first-hand. An army of fucking robots.

The team had left 43 hours ago, but who the hell was counting, right? Certainly not you. And you had certainly not been feeling the urge to ask Jarvis (R.I.P., my beloved A.I.) like every half an hour for any updates. You weren’t that desperate. You weren’t that scared-

Yeah, not even you were having your bullshit anymore.

You were shivering in cold from losing sleep, terrified and over all out of your mind. Nothing helped to ease your worries. Definitely not the fact they hadn’t made any contact ever since they had left.

They consisted of the usual Avengers team; Nat, Clint, Tony, Bruce and Thor, plus Bucky. All of them under Steve’s attentive command.

Surprisingly, Matt Murdock – also known as a freaking vigilante (a blind lawyer!!) – did not join the quest. He had said that robots were way outside his territory. You would beg to differ, because he punched the robot like a champ, yet you didn’t quite blame him for refusing. Bottomline, you still thought he was pretty swell (not to mention easy on the eyes, but that was beside the point). He had saved your life though, so you might be a bit biased. A lot biased.

Sam Wilson might have fought once too, but he would sit this one out as well. It was not helping your anxiety.

The soft click of the kettle brought you back to reality and you grabbed the handle to pour water into your mug, only to see you failed to actually put a teabag in it.

To be fair, you would have sworn you had done it, but that was just another prove of you losing your mind. At this rate you were about to burn the kitchen down – not that you felt like cooking… or eating for that matter. Steve was out there, in his own sci-fi movie that had somehow become reality and-

You sighed and set the kettle down, reaching for the box with chamomile tea. Taking one bag, you felt a strange gust of wind and curled into the hoodie as a shiver ran down your spine. Was the air-conditioning misbehaving…? Perhaps it was an aftermath of what they called the Ultron mess-

You shook your head, scolding yourself for getting paranoid and went to finally finish the simplest task of making yourself tea.

Only for your blood turning to ice when you noticed the teabag was missing. You had just put it there half a minute ago, you were sure of it. Your heart started hammering in your chest as you spun on your heels, your eyes scanning the room.

The cupboard behind your head clacked and your head swiftly snapped back to it. Feeling your own pulse pounding in your temples, you forced your brain to come up with a rational explanation.

You were losing your mind, you were imagining things, you hadn’t slept in almost two days, your mind was playing tricks on you-

Another gust of wind and the kettle disappeared from your hands, a shriek escaping your lips. On instinct, you opened the drawer and pulled out a knife. You were probably useless with it, basically offering it the potential attacker as a weapon, because they would be able to disarm you and use it to their advantage, but you didn’t give a shit. You felt better being armed.

What the fuck was happening?!

A man suddenly appeared by your left hip, like a hurricane inside of the room, and your body acted on its own, driving the knife in his side.

Or you attempted to; the knife met something solid that could not have been a body and the blond – he was a blond man, younger, hell, looking younger than you, dressed in a jumpsuit – stared at you with his mouth hanging open.

It was only then when you registered a strange red matter--- no, something unsubstantial, like an energy, swirling and changing, hovering around the blade that had stopped an inch from the man’s torso.

“Taka se ubivate, kolibri,” a female voice sounded from the other side of the room, nearly sending you into a cardiac arrest.

Yet, you couldn’t tear you gaze away from the strange man, whose face was now twisted in annoyed grimace as the woman seemed to be scolding him.

What kind of a language was that anyway?

Really not relevant.

There were two strangers in the Tower, in the very same room as you, they could be talking about how to kill you the most painful way and you wouldn’t even know, and for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t you catch a break-

“Ne ti e zabavno, foĭerverk,” he hummed back, his lips spreading in a smile, baffling you to no end. “Zdraveĭ, krasavitse.”

Your hand still on the handle of the knife that was no longer under your control, of which you refused to let go though because you were not a complete idiot, you had no idea what to do.

The man sounded almost friendly, but then again, villains often did. Sleazy. You would know.

A tremble ran through your body and out of nowhere, you made a lightning-fast decision of kicking the man in the crotch.

Your knee only brushed his manhood when your leg was no longer yours. With horror filling every cell in your body, you realized it was caught in the freaky red spiderweb of energy and you couldn’t move it no matter how much you tried.

Tears filled your eyes and suddenly you were free, the man several feet from you. A gorgeous young woman, dressed even more strangely than him – crimson leather jacket, black and half-torn leather leggings with high boots with way too many straps, her outfit completed by sleeves peeking from under her jacket –, stood next to him, cuffing him in the back of his head.

“Idiot!” she hissed and in the back of your mind, the one tiny corner that was not occupied with the fact you might die in the next second, you thanked god for some words being international.

Then, the girl with long wild red hair smiled at you apologetically, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Hello. Sorry for startling you,” she spoke with thick accent which you identified as Eastern-European and shot her companion a murderous look. “My brother is an ass and doesn’t know the difference between being funny and scaring people.”

She didn’t sound menacing at all; in fact, you saw every responsible older sibling annoyed at their younger family member in her. You blinked away the sting in your eyes and attempted to focus despite the ringing in your ears.

“Huh?” slipped from your lips intelligently, utter confusion gradually replacing your despair.

The blond rolled his eyes, which only earned him another clip round his ear.

“See what you’ve done? This is all your fault!”

“I was just messing around!”

“Do you have any idea what she’s been through? You scared her to death!” the woman hissed, effectively sending you back to the spiral of dismay, your slowly calming heartbeat skyrocketing again.

What did she know about what you had been through?!

With your knees wobbly and not to be trusted to keep you upright on their own anymore, you gripped the counter behind you with such force your muscles cramped.

“Who- who are you?” you breathed out shakily, catching the attention of the supposed sibling duo once more.

The woman smiled warmly, patronizingly almost.

“My name is Wanda and this is my brother, Pietro. We are of Sokovia. Your Captain and the other Avengers found us, showing us that we were fighting on the wrong side of things. Would you like to see?”

Her words echoed in your suddenly dull skull, the meaning escaping you.

And because her last sentence was what made sense the most and yet the least, you nodded.

Later, you would realize just how stupid and trusting you had been when agreeing, mostly because Steve gave you his look of disappointment and horror, but at the moment, it seemed right.

Somehow, on a level you couldn’t quite comprehend, you already understood they weren’t a threat to you.

“See how?”

Wanda smiled.

*Like this,* a ghost of her voice sounded somewhere deep in your mind, making you dizzy. What the hell-? *Please, don’t judge me. I thought I was doing the right thing.*

Before you could question such statement or the fact her lips were not moving while you heard her voice crystal clear, you were thrown into a vortex.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Ultron had been sure they were coming; he left a bait for them, an easy track to follow. The track they could follow towards their end.

Wanda wasn’t one to enjoy killing or hurting people in general, no. She hadn’t even considered herself a strong person once, but that had all changed with their parent’s deaths. She had had to rely on herself – on herself and on her brother. Where an opportunity had risen, to step up their game and possibly to get revenge on the name still haunting them in their worst nightmares, they hadn’t even hesitated.

Wanda had once been a weakling. It had been the tempering in fire, in a burning pain of experimentation with the sceptre that had made her the woman who she was now.

And she had a mission; she and Pietro had a mission, their chance at revenge finally gaining a shape.

She had already played with Stark’s mind, with the scum only interested in money and destruction; now she could do the same to all of them.

Bursting in with a crash, they clearly hadn’t expected such livid counterattack. A response so… nightmare-like.

Just a flick of wrist and a little concentration on Wanda’s part and they were dropping like dead, trapped in their own minds.

Black Widow, locked in a scary base, ballet dancers, martial art training and merciless killing, her fresh fears creating a horror picture of aiming her gun at her current lover’s head, at her soulmate.

“I should have known you’d never change. You’re nothing but human reduced to a murder machine…”

Thor, oh so mighty God, travelling back to his home planet to a feast, legends messing with his headspace, confusion and helplessness, thunder and lightning all around and out of his control.

“You’ll kill us all! See, son of Odin, close your eyes and see!”

The righteous captain, trapped in his own mind, folded like a house of cards under his soulmate’s dead eyes, anger and accusation blossoming into hate and finally indifference.

“You cared about your 40’s sweetheart more, anyway, didn’t you? If it was her in my place, you would have chosen her before the thousands. You wouldn’t let her blow up… but if I’m nothing to you, then you are nothing to me…”

Satisfied with her work, with only a nudge to their consciousness and their own brains doing the work for her, Wanda smirked as she noticed the busy archer. Now what tricks his could mind come up with? What hardship would he get caught in?

As she slowly sneaked behind his back, a voice snarled behind her, causing her heart to stop from more than a simple fright.

“Kak mozhe neshto tolkova malko da prichini tolkova nepriyatnosti?”

Her first reaction to her blood crystallizing in her veins with horror and rage towards the whole fucking universe, was a snarky reply.

How dared he to call her small? Implying she was weak? Underestimating her and saying that she couldn’t cause any real trouble? Oh, she would show him… that arrogant bastard! She would show him trouble-

“Laĭna…ti mi narichash nepriyatnosti?” she hissed back, carelessly losing the sight of the archer, not interested in him in the slightest all of sudden. “Vie ste strana s greshni khora!”

This stranger, this—this man-machine radiating pain as her powers barely brushed the surface of his mind on instinct… he was the real trouble as she didn’t hesitate to tell him. He was on the wrong side of things! Fraternizing with a mass murderer, with her parent’s killer-

“Pone te sa kho—” he wanted to argue, but they his mind stopped before it started screaming, punching her telepathic powers she seemed suddenly unable to turn off.

Memories, a dozen of his own memories, the way he looked at his soulmark in a mirror, the pain, the sorrow, the torture… his encounter with the Avengers, living with them; with the band of heroes she just put down, one by one, teasing and laughter, compassion and acceptance, even from the man who was supposed to be nothing but a cocky heartless bastard-

“What the hell did you just say?” Bucky rasped, astonished and horrified.

He realized it too then. Everyone always did, didn’t they? Because every person with a soulmark awaited a moment like this; the moment someone would finally say the words matching the ones on their skin, met their expectations or not…

But Bucky Burnes was the farthest from Wanda’s dream when it came to a life-long partner.

Strength is tempered in fire, she remembered reading once. She had once found a special irony in the fact that the treatment by the sceptre felt exactly like that. Wanda’s soul turned to steel with the games the fate had played with her.

So why did her hands fell from their defensive position to her side, limp and drained of all strength and determination they had known, tears stinging her eyes.

Her life was shit and she thought she had made her peace with that. But judging by the deep ache in her chest, she had been holding out for her soulmate more than she had thought. Because why else would it hurt so bad when she found out he was an enemy?

“And I thought Romeo and Juliet was just a lot of crap,” she chuckled bitterly, switching to English when he did.

His thoughts scream at her, disbelief, caution, pain, confusion, regret and hope— ambivalence. He had no idea what to do and he hated her for what she had done to his friends, but the knowledge of her being his, supposedly, it torn him in half, reaching out with willingness to forgive her if she fixed it, because if anyone understood fighting at the wrong side it was him--

Unable to resist, she dug deeper into his mind, baring his very soul, fascinated.

Pietro was still fighting with the archer and Stark, dodging the lame attempts at attack of the Avengers lost in their minds, but for two people, the time stopped.

They stood against each other, staring and motionless, and Wanda was confident she saw more than him. His mind was a tangled mess of emotions and desperate desire to get a hold of them and think rationally, bundle of memories and hopes colliding with reality and rock-solid facts and Wanda felt a pang at her heart, a crushing sensation in her chest when she finally embraced everything his headspace had to offer, getting lost in it.

Lost in him.

James Buchannan Barnes had a beautiful soul. Torn and glued together with little kind gestures from his friends, sweet memories of his sister and everlasting friendship with Steve, his no-longer-little-but-equally-stubborn Steve, Steve’s soulmate, his teammates that accepted Bucky with surprising ease and less judgement anyone would deserve… and the careful way he was giving away the pieces of the very same heart that was barely together, in gentle smiles and good-natured teasing, silent self-declaration of giving his whole life for every single one member of his new-found family.

And Wanda understood. In a fraction of second she looked under the illusions she had helped to build in the Avengers’ minds and saw the truth.

*Pietro, spri!* she cried out straight into his mind, begging him to stop fighting. With another flick of her wrist, her enemies were free of her handiwork, shell-shocked from the experience, too lost to find their footing. “Brat, spri! Pietro… greshim. They are right.”

The battle froze as if the time did and for a second, Wanda felt like she was in her brother’s skin, moving so fast that the world around her stopped turning. The stunned silence was only broken by a soft gush of wind when Pietro appeared by her side.

The Avengers seemed so baffled at her admission they didn’t try to attack them.

She exchanged a look with her twin, hoping her face spoke volumes as tears gathered in her eyes. She was far from convinced that Anthony Stark was a good man; but she knew he was better than the creature they had sworn to assist. And her mother always used to say that a man should be judged by the company he kept. From what she had seen in Bucky Barnes’ head, Stark had one bunch of fine people around; and their imperfections seemed to be balanced by the good they all wished to do.

Pietro understood. Of course he would. More than he could read her expression, he must have felt the change in Wanda’s aura, the transformation touching their bond as well.

He graced her with a reluctant nod of agreement. Via their mental connection, he whispered he trusted her. Her lips curled up in a tender smile.

“Are we just gonna stand here? Are we fighting together or against each other or what?!”

No, Tony Stark was by no means a man she would call good. In fact, she already found out he was an ass. But now, he had become her ally.

From all the eyes on their duo, she chose to meet her soulmate’s.

“Together, Anthony. Because there’s bigger malice in this world than you are.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Wanda nearly cut you off right then. The rest of what she showed was a blur of images, fear, pain and determination, destruction and cooperation, all of that leading to this very moment. It all resembled waking up from a very intense confusing dream, being pulled away into consciousness by the first sunrays of the dawn.

You blinked heavily as the world swayed off its place, the counter seemingly in a peculiar angle from your point of view.

Why was the lamp not up, but on the side? Why was it spinning?

“Oops. Sorry. Never made the connection for such a long period of time-“ a voice reached you, breaking through the hush of blood and your own heartbeat in your ears.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get a fucking grip on both your body and thoughts.

Bucky had a soulmate?

No, not relevant, the images were too unclear for you to be sure everyone made it out alright, you needed to see Steve first, you had to-

By the time Steve’s figure appeared in your field of vision, you were certain you were steady on your feet and finally managed to control your mouth.

“Steve!” you cried out excitedly as you sprang his direction, relief mixing with delight, because he was alive, he was not bleeding visibly, he-

-was suddenly graced with an identical twin, two loving tired smiles blending into one and splitting into two the next moment, swimming in your vision and you felt something solid grabbing your body and positioning it right into his strong arms.

You gazed at him in haze, melting into his warm and firm embrace, spotting a swirl of red energy flow around you.

Oh. Wanda’s work, no doubt. Sweet.

“Are you okay, doll? Are you sick? What happened?”

Wanda’s guilt was nearly solid in your reach, but you only let your head lull onto Steve’s shoulder, plunging into the fluff of love that his presence provided.

“Nah. I’m fine… just drunk on you…” you mumbled.

The girl’s bubbly relieved laughter rang in the room, bringing a satisfied smile on your face.

Steve’s kiss landed on your forehead, corners of his own lips upright despite the concern in his voice.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s just get you to bed…”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 5

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading!

I chose Bulgarian, just to avoid traditional Russian this once. Bucky is a Winter Soldier after all and he should know how to speak 30 languages or so :D just thought this would work. Google translator used; apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you had an okay start to 2021 :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogres x you #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america soulmate #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #mcu #marvel #winsod #anika ann

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

Text

10~ the chance to see the light

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: 2021 is lowkey already a mess so here some good vibes with these two dorks being almost the exact opposite !!

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @cloudspeck @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn

previous chapter

The market is loud.

So incredibly loud.

Eskel has rarely ever come across a market so loud and even if he has, he’s never stayed longer than just passing by for necessities or just travelling through to leave town. Crowded places can never exactly be a witcher’s best friend due to all the mutations so no matter what, Eskel always feels a little on edge in markets.

Jaskier on the other hand seems to be in his element from the moment they enter the crowds. He greets practically every merchant they see even though he buys nothing from them, which baffles Eskel, who’s used to often buying things he doesn’t remotely need from various people because he feels bad for wasting their time, but it seems to be the norm for Jaskier - he figures it’s a bard thing. And a pretty endearing bard thing at that.

Well, it’s endearing until Eskel bumps into someone, swivels on the spot as they both apologise to one another, and then turns back to find Jaskier gone.

“Jaskier?” he asks, but said bard is nowhere to be seen.

Eskel groans, his mind unhelpfully reminding him of the siren incident, and cranes his neck to look over the people around him to try and spot either Jaskier’s lute or his bright doublet. When he can find neither, he sighs and starts moving, mumbling apologies every time he has to literally push past the sheer number of people that he didn’t even think could fit in this town and hope none of them think badly of him for it.

He’s just beginning to think Jaskier had used the market as an excuse to be rid of him when someone crashes into him but instead of immediately jumping back, latches onto his arm with a surprising amount of strength.

“Eskel, there you are!” Jaskier grins, steadying himself but still not letting go. “I am so sorry for disappearing, I didn’t know you’d stopped walking.”

Eskel exhales slowly, nodding. “That’s okay. There’s just, uh, a lot of people here.”

Jaskier’s expression softens into sympathy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would be so crowded. You can never really tell which towns go for the morning rush until you’re part of it, unfortunately. Do you want to leave?”

Eskel blinks at being given the choice. He’d figured that, the same way he’d taken responsibility whilst hunting a siren, Jaskier would decide their plans whilst hunting a mirror. “No, that’s fine, just… let me know where you’re going next time?”

He means for it to be a joke but Jaskier frowns, biting his lip as he slowly lets go of Eskel’s arm. The small distance that creates between them doesn’t last long because Jaskier hesitantly slips his hand into Eskel’s, not quite gripping it properly but carefully holding his fingers in place as if waiting for approval.

As much as Eskel wants to provide said approval, he hesitates. “Are you sure? That’d send a pretty clear message that we’re… that you’re friends with a… with me.”

Jaskier smiles softly, somewhat sadly. “We are friends, darling.”

“But this is different and-”

“I know,” Jaskier interrupts, “but I can’t promise I won’t get distracted again and I don’t want to get overwhelmed with your witchery senses and all.”

Oh, so Jaskier is just being considerate. Eskel chides himself for thinking anything on the contrary and nods, returning Jaskier’s smile as best as he can because he’s not about to refuse him when he’s just trying to help. “That’s very kind of you.”

Another frown flickers across Jaskier’s face but he doesn’t explain it, only nods and gently squeezes Eskel’s hand as he firmly interlocks their fingers, so Eskel doesn’t question it, letting himself be guided to the different stalls.

If later asked, he wouldn’t be able to recall what anyone was selling at any of the stalls. What he would be able to recall is the way their hands may as well have been made for being held, the way he could feel a firm tug all the way up to his shoulder every time Jaskier turned to admire something or the other, the way Jaskier turned around with a look of concern if Eskel didn’t move fast enough when being pulled along.

He genuinely has no idea how much time passes before Jaskier comes to a complete stop with a rather dramatic gasp. “That one! Oh, Eskel, isn’t it lovely?” Jaskier asks, gesturing to a small, circular mirror.

The merchant seems a little sceptical to hand it over at first, presumably not a huge fan of witchers, but Eskel watches as his gaze travels to their connected hands before his doubt morphs into amusement. When he looks up again, he’s smiling and offers the object up with no hesitation, which is a little confusing but it’s not like Eskel is going to question it.

“Well, what do you think?” Jaskier asks as Eskel takes the mirror, squeezing his hand in what could be excitement or support but is appreciated either way.

It’s a pretty simple design, with one side smoothed down perfectly to create a reflective surface and the other side curved outwards with a flower carved into it. He shrugs. “It’s really nice.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Melitele save us from witchers and their limited reviews. It’s a rose, Eskel. It’s not just really nice, it’s perfect!”

Well, if Jaskier is so determined to continue comparing him to roses, he’s not going to complain regardless of how much he disagrees. And yes, upon further inspection the carving is an impressively delicate rose, so he smiles. “It’s really perfect?” he offers.

Both Jaskier and the merchant laugh, and Eskel is so distracted that he forgets to pay attention to how much Jaskier is spending on the mirror, on him. He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Jaskier tugs on his hand again, grinning.

“You’ll be happy to know we can leave now!” he announces. Although Eskel is more than relieved to finally get out of the sensory mess otherwise known as a market, he selfishly doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier’s hand yet.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Not really, no. I replaced my lute strings not long ago and we just ate and I don’t really have much coin left anyway because the patrons of this town aren’t particularly generous so there’s nothing keeping us.”

With a sigh, realising there’s no excuse for them to stay attached any longer, Eskel releases his hold on Jaskier’s hand and starts walking back the way they came. He makes it about three steps before the scent of honey he’s so quickly become comforted by turns sour. Though when he turns to see what’s happened, Jaskier is smiling as if there’s nothing wrong.

“You forgot your mirror, Eskel,” Jaskier tells him with a nervous chuckle, holding out said object.

He takes it from him but that can’t have been the matter because Jaskier still smells the way Lambert does when Vesemir withholds his brewing privileges. Before he can ask, Jaskier brushes past him and speeds up so quickly that Eskel almost loses sight of him again before he manages to catch up.

“Jaskier? What is it, did something happen?” he asks eventually, by the time they’re nearer the inn and there are less people around.

Jaskier shakes his head but doesn’t stop walking. Eskel glances between him and the mirror, which he then pockets so he doesn’t break it, before sighing, confused. “Do you need more coin?”

That seems to have been the wrong way to go about fixing things because Jaskier turns on his heel and folds his arms, all but glowering at him. “I do not and will never need your pity coin, I am perfectly capable of covering my own expenses, thank you very much!”

Eskel wants to disagree, considering that Jaskier is currently wearing his spare clothes, but he also has the feeling that Jaskier wouldn’t take too kindly to him pointing that out. Instead, he just shrugs. “I’m sorry, bardling, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Jaskier interrupts once more, but this time he just sounds tired, his previous determination long-gone. “Just tell me honestly, was it really that bad?”

“What?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier gestures vaguely to nothing in particular and yet somehow looks surprised when Eskel doesn’t seem to catch on. He sighs quietly. “You know, holding hands?”

Wait, what? Oh gods, Eskel seems to have completely missed something here. And apparently Jaskier has too, because he seems equally as lost when he sees that Eskel has no idea what he means, his glum transforming into uncertainty.

“How about we go inside first?” Eskel suggests, which he feels is the most logical course of action since the inn is within sight.

The second they’re back in their room, having deposited their respective lute and swords on the floor, Jaskier whirls and gives Eskel a pointed look. “You let go of my hand. I think it’s better you explain why instead of me standing here and guessing.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Eskel says honestly, “you said you were helping me in the market and I didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness once we left.”

Jaskier scowls, but it’s clearly not directed at him because the next thing he does is launch himself forwards and throw his arms around Eskel, who definitely doesn’t stumble in a not entirely unpleasant shock, no sir.

“All due respect, darling, but you witchers can be so stupidly obtuse,” Jaskier mumbles into his shoulder and Eskel laughs, letting himself relax into the embrace and waiting patiently until Jaskier eventually pulls back, thankfully free of any sourness.

“Just to clarify then: this is permission to uhm, hold your hand even when we’re not in markets?” Eskel asks, swallowing down the awkwardness he can sense burning inside him even as the words leave his mouth.

Jaskier grins. “Yes, even the mightiest of witchers are allowed to engage in the more ordinary act of hand-holding.”

Although he’s sure his doesn’t have quite the same charm to it, a matching grin blooms on Eskel’s face. “You know, I thought it was rather extraordinary, actually.”

Just as Eskel had predicted, there’s about three seconds of confusion before Jaskier blushes and his grin once again widens in a way that seems impossible and highly dangerous. He’d say it must be another bard thing but he’s beginning to think it’s just a Jaskier thing and he’s almost afraid of how many Jaskier things he’s been keeping track of lately.

“You’re quite the flirt for someone so obtuse,” Jaskier informs him, raising an eyebrow.

Eskel shrugs. “Must be the company I’m keeping.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests, but the accompanying giggle just makes it sound adorable. As soon as he thinks that, though, Jaskier smirks at him. “So you’re keeping me?”

Ah, not again. He truly has no idea how he’s meant to react to what he’s almost certain is flirting and unfortunately, that fact only seems to amuse Jaskier instead of discouraging him. Not that Eskel has any idea why anyone, especially this bard, would want to flirt with him in the first place.

“You’ve got your thinky-face on again,” Jaskier accuses him quietly, poking his chest. “Do you really have to think so hard on the concept of keeping me?”

Eskel finds himself shaking his head just a little too quickly. “No, no. I would be honoured to continue keeping your company, I just- I don’t know how to do this.”

Jaskier tilts his head to the right, raising an eyebrow. “With ‘this’ being what, exactly?”

That’s exactly what he wants to ask.

“This… this flirting thing,” he settles on.

“I wasn’t really considering it to be a thing so much as just the flirting,” Jaskier says, so quietly that it’s barely even a whisper.

Eskel can literally feel the way his eyes widen. He can also literally smell the way Jaskier begins to doubt himself so, without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the bard’s wrist, instantly regretting that choice when Jaskier flinches.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go immediately, “just, uh, just don’t leave yet. Please.”

With a slow exhale, Jaskier nods. “Yet?”

“You can leave whenever you wish,” Eskel clarifies, relieved when all Jaskier does is smile rather than take him up on that offer.

To his credit, Jaskier barely even moves as Eskel tries to compose himself. He rubs his fingertips together before just wrapping his arms around himself and shifts from one foot to the other but he doesn’t leave, giving Eskel as much time as he needs to choose an answer that doesn’t come across as something else that can be taken in the wrong way.

In the end, he just sighs. “I don’t- I mean, I haven’t been flirted at for longer than I can exactly remember. You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing the difference between the typical bardic reputation and the- and anything more… serious.”

“Bards can’t be serious?” Jaskier jokes, but it seems like an automatic response rather than his genuine response if the frown on his face is anything to go by.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eskel replies, very much wishing that he did.

Jaskier nods, reaching out for and taking both of Eskel’s hands. “I can assure you that despite also holding the uhm, the typical bardic reputation, I was being entirely serious about flirting with you.”

Eskel was a little afraid of that, to be honest.

“But if you don’t- that is, if it were to make you uncomfortable, I would be happy to uh, take that problem off your hands and stick to less serious flirting,” Jaskier adds, “or no flirting at all, even. That one may be considerably more difficult since flirting essentially becomes second nature in my trade but I can certainly attempt such an endeavour if it would ensure that we continue to travel together. And I’m aware you’ve already told me you’re happy with that arrangement but it only feels right to make sure in case-”

“You can stay sure,” Eskel cuts in before Jaskier rambles himself into a mess, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“But?” Jaskier asks, raising an eyebrow.

Amazed at how the bard somehow knows he needs to continue, Eskel smiles a little. “But I don’t know how to flirt and be serious about it.”

And he genuinely doesn’t. Obviously. He’s a witcher, he’s more than lucky if anyone at a brothel wants to keep their eyes on him, never mind maintain a conversation, and even then, that’s only if he goes to one in the first place. It’s not like he’s never been flirted at before, but it’s a little hard to take any of it seriously when it’s usually accompanied by undertones of fear or curiosity or mocking jest.

“It’s not like I’m an expert,” Jaskier scoffs and immediately, inexplicably, some of the tension in Eskel’s body melts away.

“What about all those romantic ballads of yours?” Eskel asks, frowning.

Jaskier shrugs, his thumbs drawing tiny soothing circles on Eskel’s hands. “Just because I sing about relationships doesn’t mean I’m in one, darling.”

Eskel is honestly a little baffled by how that can be possible. He can’t imagine being blessed with someone like Jaskier and then deciding not to try and keep him around - which reminds him to violently berate his brother for doing so - but frankly, he’s pretty glad nobody else has because if they had, he’d never have been given the chance himself.

“You look nice in my clothes,” Eskel blurts and, going by the redness that bridges over his nose all the way to his ears, Jaskier mercifully seems to understand what he’s trying to convey.

“I hope you’re aware you’re not getting them back now,” Jaskier teases.

Eskel shrugs. “A loss I’m willing to endure.”

Jaskier laughs brightly, throwing his head back with his hair arching messily in the air above him, his hands tightly clutching onto Eskel’s to stay balanced, and Eskel doesn’t need to be an expert on relationships to know that he’d happily lose any of his belongings if it meant being able to keep Jaskier in his life.

Well, maybe not his mirror.

...in retrospect, i may have made them a tad ooc by projecting too much but hey, it be like that sometimes :)

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

#jaskel #jaskier #eskel #fanfic #the witcher #not all witchers are as emotionally constipated as geralt #jaskier and eskel deserve each other and they're finally getting there #hurt comfort #fluff #idiots in love #awkward flirting #actual communication occurs thank the gods #slow burn #my writing #tmypicta

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cyberdva · 5 years ago

Text

Breaking Up With My Girlfriend Prank (GONE WRONG) - C.B. ☆

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Summary: In the midst of the popular Prank War, Colby had the genius idea of pranking his newly announced girlfriend. A prank that would completely backfire on their relationship. Colby would go through thick and thin for his girlfriend, but even his dramatic acting messed something up. Can he fix it?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

Colby Brock Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 4/7/20

Warnings: Mild Swearing and Mentions of Sex

A/N: I have so many Colby ideas lined up…. quarantine work is currently kicking my ass, so I apologize!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Colby this is your worst idea yet.” Corey had merely walked through the door and was already pounded with chaos. The infamous prank war had been escalating further than planned. It had gotten progressively worse. The ideas these guys had were coming to a point of destruction. Not just the house, some of the pranks had begun to take effect on their relationships. Aaron was frequently locked in his room playing video games rather than hanging out with everyone. People outside of the five core roommates had been dragged in. Anything for the views they say.

“Well I mean the fans have been requesting it. I’m one-hundred percent sure she won’t mind after I tell her where the cameras are hidden.” Emotions in the Trap House were only invisible barriers. So many times videos were filled with violence, purposely made for entertainment use.

“No wonder the fans wanted it… they all want a chance to date you…” Colby made his way to the staircase and paid no mind to the advice his friend was dealing him. Corey made note of the rabid fangirls that wanted nothing, but Colby for themselves. He was an unstoppable force and sometimes that led him to his own fall. Colby was back in his room, alone. It was oddly quiet. Perfect timing to begin filming..

“What’s up guys? It’s Colby Brock! Today I’m back with another prank. This one might not end too well,” His cheeky grin filled his face, on the inside anxiety ate away at every inch. “As you know, I have a wonderful girlfriend and the prank war is at its peak, so I’m breaking up with her.” A pause for dramatic effect, this needed views so he could win the war. “As a prank.” He extended his hands and put on a big smile. In his mind, Colby convinced himself that this was going to go smoothly.

“I’ve been dating Y/N for a couple months now and I felt it was time for her to get in on the action. I guess it’s an initiation…” Colby fiddled with his rings, he felt that everything around him was cloudy. “Sorry, I’m really nervous about this…” he giggled. His fingers found themselves running through his hair. With pupils wide, there was no denying this had to go horribly wrong.

“She should be on her way over here in a few minutes. Flabby post-its thrashed their way around as the heading wind of the opened window left more than to be desired. The camera’s microphone crackled. Even the universe somehow knew how utterly stupid this idea had to be. It felt wrong. He could say he cheated on her? Why would he do that?

‘Fuck.” Colby knew the audio files were now unusable. There was no energy left to redo this, he’s seen Corey and Sam do this so many times and their girlfriends were completely fine… after a while. He was being too hard on himself. His lungs filled with the cold, nightly air. He could do this. It’s just a prank. The window slammed shut as Y/N car slowly pulled into the long driveway. He could do this.

Colby had put too much effort into his emo-like inner monologue that reality even slipped away from himself. He made mere seconds to hide the camera and get into position. The video quality jumped even lower as Colby snatched a stray shirt on the scum-ridden floor. He tried his best to find a second angle, he fumbled with an extra camera and stuffed it on his dresser, underneath a towel.

“Okay guys, she just got here. I have no idea what I’m going to say, but I hope she forgives me.” Another nervous laugh on cue. He was sweating like he had just come back from the gym. The large front door slammed shut. He received a text…

Y/N: I’m on my way up! I’ve been missing you all day!

“Shit.” The sound of feet hitting the trashed staircase filled his ears. He looked normal, a bit more jumpy than normal, that was all. She was right outside her door, her hands gripping the door handle. With one last look at the cameras Colby flashed his eyes to his window. The weather grew dark and grim. Rain threatened to spill at any given moment. The door was now wide open and closed with a short click.

“Hey Colb… how was your day? Anything eventful happen?” Colby made no emotion, it was not that hard to do. He gave no reply which Y/N thought was odd. She dropped a small bag filled with what would most likely be food. She looked up at him. The silence was sickening.

Her eyes skewered around for possibly a camera. It seemed scarily unusual for something like this to happen. “Are you oka-”

“We need to talk.” His voice was stern as ice. As stern as an icy pond found on a freezing December Sunday. Y/n’s pupils dilated, it wasn’t the friendly greeting she was expecting. Far from it likewise.

“What do you mean? Did I do something wrong…” she plopped down onto his sheer bed. The awkwardness was indescribable. It was the first time the pair were unable to converse. It seemed fake, like a problem that would never arise. Colby rose from the bed, fist clenched. Y/N fell backwards into the mattress.

“It’s not really you. It’s me.” That is the phrase bound to start some sort of trouble. No one really knew what was going on.

Y/N’s face contorted, “I’m sorry. Yesterday we were having sex and today there’s a problem?” She stared down at her sweaty palms, small portions of rage and sorrow were quickly brewing. “Sorry, that sounded really harsh.”

Colby smacked his hands together and a clapping noise echoed, “This is what I’m talking about.” He turned around to hide his smile. This was a situation where even he couldn’t keep his face straight.

Baffled, Y/N sat with a raging passion, “What the fuck do you mean?!” Seriously! I assumed everything was well.” She didn’t know what to do next, honestly. Where to do amongst all of this.

“We need to break up.” Hell began again. This wasn’t what Y/N was expecting, tears fondled sporadically across her waterline and danced their way down her face like a drunken ABBA member. Her body jolted in a manner that was unthinkable. She left in a flustered hurry, Sam saw her waddling down the stairs and tried to make a headspace to connect the dots. He was interrupted by Colby stomping his way downstairs in sheer panic, equipped with a camera.

“It’s just a prank! Y/N! It was fake!”

The grand door slammed shut.

++++

“Devyn, has Corey ever pulled this shit with you? Seriously. He seemed so convincing. Do you think he secretly meant it.”

“Knowing Colby, probably not. You’re acting like he’s a stranger. You’ve known him for how long now? Two years?”

“It really wasn’t so thoughtful of him.” The eerie ambience of the phone static paired with the pitch black

“It was a prank. They aren’t meant to be thoughtful Y/N… well semi-excluding Jake’s pizza prank.” She sighed into the phone, “Not wanting to over excite you or sound mean. You’re kind of overrea-” She hung up the phone, Y/N knew she was reacting unlawfully, she just wanted this to leave an impact. I guess it would be better for the video anyways...her phone vibrated. Four missed calls from Colby.

The rickety door flung open and Y/N stepped outside. She convinced herself no one was watching. If Colby knew where she was he would most likely have a fit. The wind was the same as it was, whispering secrets into the ears of anyone brave enough to listen. A branch cascaded to the asphalt that bounded the ground into one, swift motion. Y/n popped her heels onto the road. There was silence. A stray shopping bag floated past her ankles. Y/N Thought about how Colby was feeling. Did she really hurt him by leaving? Was he not kidding about what he said? Shit. She felt sad. Cried. If only she knew what was actually going on. Fuck this. Fuck Colby. Y/N stopped in her tracks, “No…” she thought. “Devyn was right. I’m going back”

After a shitty teen-romcom reenaction Y/N made her way to the brooding boyfriend’s home. Colby sat in his room while Sam poked jokes at him, trying to cheer him up. He abandoned his phone on the stringy carpet and hoped she would get over it. She came back.

“I hate you, you know?” Her small amount of makeup was splattered down, Colby’s spirits crushed deeper.

“Just stay the night.. It’s the least I can do.” He begged. He pleaded. The last thing Colby needed was to lose her.

“You actually think I would drive home after all of this happened, it’s like 12 in the morning.” She re-opened the bag from before and cracked open a soda.

“I’m so sorry. This got way out of hand and I didn’t mean any of it. I love yo-“

“Shut up Colby.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Part 2? Y/N does a break up prank on Colby? Send me an ask to let me know!

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x you #fanfiction #fanfic #youtuber x reader #imagine #youtube

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mother-snake · 4 years ago

Text

all they need is eachother

(virgil and janus angst, cause i havent put jaus through enough truma apparently. hope you all enjoy!)

taggs: @idkanameatall @anxiously-creating @imthebadguythatsfine warnings: i wanna say a panic attack? definate feels. words: 2594

-virgil and janus have a history. not a perfect one. but one thats good for them both-

There were many things that confused everyone in the mind palace. But one of them was the way Janus and Virgil would act towards one another.

Sure, when they were younger, they had a ‘rivalry’ if you could even call it that. but somewhere along the line they wouldn’t have denied that they fell for one another, but they hadn’t quite come to admitting it to each other… the others were about to lose their minds over that. Logan and Patton had set up a bet. it wasn’t looking too good for Patton. both not sure when it had even happened. But it was before Thomas knew about them.

Janus always made sure Virgil wasn’t going a day without some form of human connection. Even if it was just sitting in his room cuddling into Virgil’s side pretending, he was cold. and the days he truly was cold, Virgil would lend his hoodie over to the other side despite the fact he would be exposed to the cold.

But between all of that they did have their fights. And it was just unfortunate timing that when Janus had chosen to reveal himself that he and Virgil had a fight only the night prior. so when they appeared in the mindscape things were clearly tense between the two of them.

But that didn’t stop Janus form smiling when he saw Virgil waring the patchwork hoodie he had created for the side as a small goodbye gift when he had left to join the lights.

So, it had made his day ever so slightly better to know he wasn’t completely mad at him. Well… for the time being at least. He hoped.

When he had sunk down, he didn’t go straight to his room. He always made a quick pit stop in Virgil’s in hopes he could steal an old hoodie or jumper from him. So far, he only had two. yeah…no. he was getting another. The other two didn’t have his coffee and almost cookie scent. It baffled him how he could have smelled like coffee when Virgil apparently despised coffee.

He didn’t ask. He knew when to keep to himself.

Well, as he was ‘looking’ he felt his hat get taken from his head, causing him to turn around and see Virgil standing their mid-way through placing the hat on his own head. “so, what brings you here traitor?” Virgil said with a smirk. “for the last time I’m sorry,” Janus strained. “you allied with Remus against me,” he deadpanned. “it was monopoly, you know I get competitive!” Janus exasperated.

“let me steal a shirt and were even, ill even let you keep another hoodie- “ “deal,” Janus said shaking Virgil’s outstretched hand.

They both held their smiles, something they only seemed to do in each other’s presence. “so… what’s Remus up to right now?” “most likely lit something on fire knowing him,” Janus responded, “any tea on the others?” “other than Logan really needed a moral boost. Not much I’m afraid,”

Janus pondered what Virgil said as he pulled out a light purple hoodie and draped it over his arm with a smirk. “I bet Remus could help with that,” Janus held a grin that could only happen on one occasion. “you have a plan? “I have a plan,” Janus said, his eyes glistening.

Virgil was happy that his concealer was able to hide the blush on his face as he saw how happy Janus could get scheming.

He was concerned when he found Janus in his room later that day. His smile dropped into a frown when he saw Janus trying to swipe away stray tears. “hey you okay there dude?” Janus’s eyes snapped up to Virgil. “I’m fine,” he didn’t push for an answer.

He slipped off his hoodie and threw it Janus’s way. getting a small laugh out of the side as it landed on the snake’s head. Janus sniffed before he slipped on the hoodie, zipping it up and pulling it over his head. His hat sat off to the side.

Virgil felt worry seeping into his foundation. It had been months since he had seen the side crying. Even then it was the first time in years. “it’s okay,” Virgil said as he sat down next to Janus, leaning his back on the wall and wrapping an arm around the side, “I’ve got you.”

No more words were said. Being there in each other’s embrace said more than they truly knew. Janus rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. A wave of tired washing itself over the both of them, falling asleep. Lulled by the sound of the others slow breathing.

Virgil was not impressed. When Janus said he had a plan… he didn’t expect this of all things to happen. nope. Nada. Not on his wish list.

He sighed as he watched roman get bonked on the head by the mace. He had been asked to play along. Not that the other three in the room knew that.

“ah… it’s the duke,” Virgil sighed… he was having words with Janus later.

The only problem was that he had an act to keep up. one he preferred not to do. he was a light side, and until the others knew that he promised he would keep the act of hating the others up. that had been the compromise.

And then… “I would never hide anything from you,” he glanced down to the floor. a fiery pit of rage burned higher the more Remus spoke. he could let Janus slide. He knew the other was just teasing him. But Remus wasn’t like that. he knew what he said and how it could invoke feelings in others. and he knew that this would trigger something in Virgil… and it did. Janus hadn’t told him about the plan… he had hinted at his past… and now Remus had as well. Had Janus told him to do so?

He shook his head, unnoticed by the others. only one thing could be said. Their plan, whatever it was… was working. Logan was getting listened to despite what everyone around him kept saying.

At some point he guessed he got caught up in his head. The possibilities running around his mind weren’t pretty to say the least and he knew he had Remus to thank for that. “Virgil buddy?” and that where things hit the fan.

He wasn’t sure how to feel… years of work seemed to be set in flames in seconds. The look of betrayal etched into his mind. Unwilling to move when he blinked. “Virgil?” a silky voice spoke from behind. it seemed to light a match below. One he didn’t realise was sitting above gasoline.

Virgil snapped around, glaring harshly at Janus with a steely gaze. the deceitful side stepped back in shock… this wasn’t like Virgil.

“leave me alone,” he snarled. Janus looked at Virgil before taking a step forward. Virgil ignored his calls and walked away. His destination was his room. He wanted to be alone for now.

And Janus. He didn’t know what had happened. But he needed to know. And now. He turned and bolted to where Remus was normal confided.

What he didn’t expect was to bump into said side over in the light half. “Jannie? To what do I owe the pleasure?” he grinned wildly. “why is Virgil so angry at me?” he asked with pleading eyes. “angry- “he cut himself off.

He stopped himself before thinking, and when it hit him it was like a bag of coal had be thrown into his skull. “um… we may have fucked up?” Remus said as he looked at a confused Janus. “what do you mean?” Janus asked, worry seeping into his words. “you know…hinting to Thomas he was one of us and all,” Remus said nonchalantly.

Janus stopped where he stood… had that really been the reason? Had he been so angry because they kept prodding at that small thing? tears left Janus as thoughts swirled in his head. Had Virgil hated him all this time… had he only put up with them because he could keep an eye on them. “I… I need to go,” Janus muttered as he wiped away tears that pooled down his face. “Janus,” Remus said as he grabbed the sides arm. “please- “before he could finish, he was pulled into a tight hug.

Any tears that had been held in went loose like a waterfall. He sobbed into Remus’s chest. he didn’t want to believe he may have just lost his best friend. But some times there’s no way to lie yourself out of a situation.

That was the final straw for Janus. He wasn’t the villain. He never had been. So why was roman so insistent he was. “how can we trust him!?” he heard roman yell at Thomas. “I don’t have an easy answer for that…it’s a start,” there was no going back. “my name…” all eyes were on him in that moment. “my name is Janus,” he looked Thomas dead in the eyes before hearing laughter. no… “Janus? What are you? a middle school librarian?” roman laughed.

He had tried to hold himself back from sinking down. Doing what he does best and snapping back as a defence. “oh that god you don’t have a moustache roman. Otherwise between you and Remus… I wouldn’t know who the evil twin is,” what the fuck did he just say?!

His mind didn’t remember much of what happened after. Right now, he was in his room curled tightly in a ball. Ignoring Remus’s plea to get him out of the room. he only pulled himself closer… just when he thought he wasn’t the villain he did that. just when things were going perfectly… he did the one thing he knew would hurt roman. compare him to his brother. He let out a small chuckle as his mind grew darker and darker. Remus began to get worried. He could hear Janus’s thoughts and it was getting to much even for him.

A thought crossed his mind… would he even want to see Janus. Well… tough luck.

He found himself bolting over to the light sides. Dodging Patton coming down the stairs. Not stopping to apologise as he shoved him out the way.

When he arrived at the purple door, he banged harshly, hoping to grab the others attention. he heard shuffling on the other side but didn’t let up until the door creaked open. He slotted his foot in the crack of the door, just in case.

Virgil saw the panicked look on Remus’s face. “what do you want?” he asked sternly. “it’s Janus, please-“ Virgil shut the door harshly, causing Remus to wince,” I’m scared,” Remus muttered.

Virgil paused. He had never heard him sound so… broken? Was that the right word. Then he felt it. the waves of anxiety coming from Remus. It made his eyes go wide. “where is he?” “his room, he won’t open the door for me,” Remus muttered. Virgil gave a sharp nod before sinking down. He landed outside Janus’s door and almost stumbled at the force of anxiety and feelings even he had never felt so strongly. what was going through his head?

He reached his hand onto the door handle. He held a breath before turning it and pushing it open. he wasn’t sure what he would find. But it didn’t feel like it would have been this.

His room was dark. Pitch black even. A small shiver was sent up his spine the closer he got to Janus. that’s when his ears registered the noises coming from the bed tucked neatly in the corner. He felt something inside his soul break as he heard the sobs and cries coming from the ball curled up on the bed.

He closed the door behind himself. Knowing Janus wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this. “Janus?” he said, “hey, can you hear me?” he asked.

The side heard his name get called and looked up, showing his face that had been buried in his lap. “Virgil?” he muttered rubbing his eyes, trying to labour his breathing as best as possible. he sat down at the end of the bed before taking his hoodie off and placing it mid-way to him and Janus. but before he knew it a set of arms were wrapped around him, holding him tightly in a hug. what felt close to an instinct he wrapped his arms around Janus. Not letting go. He continued to hold on as he heard the sound of Janus’s breathing settling down before Janus slumped against him. He lifted Janus up before he repositioned himself, trying to not wake the obviously shattered side.

“g’nite Janus,” he muttered before planting a gentile kiss on Janus’s head. he lied down next to Janus, wrapping his arms as best as he could around the side. he didn’t realise how much he had missed holding Janus like this. Sure, the situation could have been better. But he had a feeling if it weren’t for Remus he wouldn’t have cared enough to check.

Virgil didn’t sleep.

Janus had woken up with something warm wrapped around him. It was like a heater for your body mixed with the worlds best blanket. the smell of cookies and coffee filled his nose. making him let out a content sigh. he buried his head further into whatever it was. a small chuckle filled his ears. Since when did blankets make a noise?

He cracked an eye open before shooting up. there lying next to him was a smirking Virgil his hoodie lying where Janus had been moments ago. “okay, what the hell- “the memories from yesterday flooded his mind.

Any though that had been in his mind only a couple minuets ago were washed away. He felt his shoulders beginning to shake as he dug his nails into his arms. Virgil threw the hoodie his way. he caught it mid air and slipped it on as quickly as possible. He could swear that any thoughts left as soon as he put his first arm in that sleeve.

“what happened yesterday Janus?” Virgil asked. he guessed when he winced at the memories Virgil was not going to back down from this one. “some things were said… and roman made fun of my name,” he muttered. he looked up to see a murderous look on Virgil’s face. “I compared him to Remus and…the look on his face. Virge… it won’t go away,” he cried, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder.

He was fresh out of tears and felt like a piece of dirt. “sorry you had to witness that last night,” he sniffed. “hey, don’t apologise, feeling suck. Sometimes all you need is a good cry,” Virgil chuckled, “take that from me.”

Janus didn’t say anything but only held onto Virgil ever so slightly tighter. sure things weren’t the best. But even so. He was happy to know despite what had happened Virgil could still keep a soft spot for him. A warm feeling spread in his chest. happiness was something he loved. And to Janus, Virgil was his own source of daily happiness.

Despite all their fights, at the end of the day neither could be mad for long. They would always come to a compromise. And right now, even if it was just to put what happened behind them, he was okay with that.

He had Virgil and Virgil had him. he had all he needed in his arms.

#Janus sanders #Virgil sanders #anxceit #anceit #patton sanders mention #logan sanders mention #remus sanders #thomas sanders #sander sides #angst #some form of break down?

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chimchimsauce · 5 years ago

Text

Allure

Commission for @bangtansnight

WC: ~ 3500

I hope you enjoy it! Due to Corona, I will be opening commissions again since school is canceled. Please dm me for more info.

Famous producer Namjoon and rising star Jungkook are working together to promote Jungkook’s new album Allure. Unfortunately, the two of them can’t stand each other. Good thing there’s a new intern around who’s not afraid to put either of them in their place.

The sound of the large clock on Namjoon’s studio’s wall is nearly deafening in the silence, each tick seeming to echo through the room. He frowns, gets up from his chair, and walks to his backpack which he slung on top of his small couch, rummaging through until he finds the headache medicine he was so desperately craving. He takes it dry, not chasing it with water as he should. Once the two pills have forcibly made their way down his throat he checks his phone, curing under his breath.

In half an hour, that annoying prick Jungkook will be here at his studio. If someone had told Namjoon a year ago that he’d be producing the next mixtape of his favorite indie musician, he would have been ecstatic. But that joy quickly faded when he realized how arrogant Jungkook was. Sure, he was incredibly talented and had a voice that would tempt angels out of Heaven, but his personality is borderline intolerable. And while Jungkook’s mixtape is one of Namjoon’s proudest moments, he can’t wait until it’s over and he doesn’t have to see Jungkook’s stupid face nearly every day anymore.

Someone knocks softly on his door, snapping him out of his slightly mopey thoughts.

“Come in,” he barks out, wishing Jungkook would have rescheduled today like he did a million times during production.

The door creaks open to reveal an unfamiliar figure holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says politely, “But your manager asked me to bring this to you,”

She steps into the room and outstretches her hand, ready to hand the beverage over. Namjoon doesn’t move to take it, however, instead simply staring at her skeptically

“Who are you?” he asks rudely.

He hasn’t seen her around before and it certainly wouldn't be the first time a crazed fan broke into the company to try and meet him. God, the lengths people will go to!

“Oh,” she begins, “My name is Céron. I’m the new intern,”

“What happened to Mika?” Namjoon asks, still suspicious.

“She apparently got a job offer elsewhere. I was hired as her replacement about three weeks ago.”

Namjoon looks her over, eyes carefully falling on every inch of her from the work appropriate sensible heels to her black slacks and white button-up. She’s a bit taller than average and has some noticeable curves, as well. Overall, she doesn’t look threatening.

Céron pulls at the simple black cord around her neck, tugging her employee ID out from under her shirt.

“You can have a look at this if it makes you feel better. Or I can go ask my manager to have someone else bring you coffee,” she says in that same polite, slightly uninvolved tone.

Before Namjoon can speak up and tell her that it’s fine, a very flashily dressed Jungkook turns the corner and strolls towards the open studio door.

“Ey yo, Namjoon!” he shouts as he approaches, looking ridiculous in his gigantic white furry coat, “My main man!”

Jungkook brushes past Céron without even looking at her, snatching Namjoon’s coffee before taking a sip and cringing instantly.

“Oh God, that’s awful,” he says, face all screwed up in an expression Namjoon finds hilarious.

“Not so cool now, huh?” the producer thinks, winking at the slightly baffled intern still standing at the door.

“That you for the coffee, new intern,” he says, already forgetting her name.

“Can you get me a grande, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with soy milk? Oh and make sure you don’t go to Starbucks, they never get it right. There’s an indie coffee shop like forty minutes from here that does it justttt right. Okay? Thanks!” Jungkook says, smiling at Céron with a grin so bright and charming that she almost forgets how pretentious he sounds.

“Well?” Jungkook prompts once it’s clear that the intern is a little starstruck.

“Oh, yes, right away!” she says, turning around quickly to make her way out despite having no clue where that coffee shop he said to go to is.

As the door closes behind her, Jungkook’s smile fades as he flops down on the couch pushed against the studio wall. He places his still shoe clad feet on the fine fabric, rolling his head to the side with one arm propped behind his neck.

“Where’s Mika?” Jungkook asks Namjoon.

In the weeks that they’ve been working together, Jungkook has made it his personal mission to flirt with each and every female employee who works in Namjoon’s company. The producer is one hundred percent positive he’s doing it just to annoy him.

“Can you be professional for once?” Namjoon says, swiveling his chair around to face Jungkook and ignoring his question, “And get your feet off of my couch! Who raised you?!”

“Your mom,” Jungkook says, as he sits up, sticking his tongue out at him, “And of course I can be professional.”

He crosses his legs and sits up straight.

“See?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Let’s just get down to business, alright? The tracks are done, all that’s left is promotion. My team has drawn up a schedule, so all I need to do is go over it with you and finalize everything.”

“Fine, fine,” Jungkook says dismissively, “Let’s get it over with.”

By the time Céron makes it back to the studio with Jungkook’s crazy expensive coffee (seriously, who pays twenty dollars for one coffee?) Namjoon is ready to rip Jungkook’s soft locks out of his head. He’s shot down every suggestion Namjoon has come up with and has offered up nothing in return.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Namjoon shouts so loudly that Céron hesitates outside of the door, knuckles just grazing the wood.

“No one told you to go pick those dates. You should have spoken to me first,” Jungkook’s voice wafts through gently

He’s speaking as if he's addressing a young child.

“You know what?” Namjoon’s voice grows in volumes.

Céron decides that she’s heard enough. She knocks loudly on the door, interrupting their fight before it can really get going.

“Your coffee is here,” she says politely as if she hadn’t heard anything.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says politely, grabbing the coffee and immediately beginning to down it.

“I hope you choke,” Namjoon bites out bitterly, causing Céron to gasp.

In the short time that she’s been working in this company, Namjoon has never been so rude to any of his clients. Each time she passed him in the hallway or saw him interacting with a client or staff member, he always seemed so polite. She wonders what could have irritated him enough to be so mean to Jungkook.

“Hey, Intern,” Jungkook says, ignoring Namjoon’s remark, “I have a question for you.”

“Okay . . .” she says, suddenly aware that she's under his eagle-eyed stare.

Jeon Jungkook is an extremely popular new artist with a fanbase devoted to his unique sound and his gorgeous face. He has the same level of star power as other celebrities years his senior and he knows it. That cockiness shows in every inch of his being from the expensive clothes he wears to the way he walks by people, head straight and never paying anyone else any mind.

But now she’s at the center of Jungkook’s attention and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. Slight unease washes over her.

“Tell me,” he says loftily, “Do you think it’s unreasonable for me to protest a promotion schedule if it was created without my input?”

“Well . . .”

“Oh, get over yourself, Jeon,” Namjoon snaps before Céron can even get her sentence out, “our team was the one who refused to contribute. Don’t act like this was something I did to spite you. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

Céron feels very much as if she just walked into a war zone based on the way the two men are glaring at each other.

“So tell me,” Namjoon continues, staring at her, “Who do you think is being unreasonable? Since Jungkook dragged you into this, you tell us whose being the difficult one and we’ll stop arguing.”

For several moments, Céron doesn’t speak at all. Jungkook is sure that she’s entirely overwhelmed by being in this situation and is about to protest when she speaks up.

“If I can be honest with you,” she says, slightly afraid of losing her job. She continues when Namjoon and Jungkook both nod at her to finish, “I think both of you are in the wrong.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, nearly spilling that expensive coffee over himself in shock.

“You’re joking!” Namjoon shouts.

Céron shakes her head.

“It would be obvious to anyone that the two of you don’t seem to get along well. But regardless of that fact, you’re both professionals with a job to do. It honestly seems like you’re getting nowhere. I’m surprised that an album was produced in the first place with all this bickering.”

The two men are completely shell shocked. Neither of them quite know what to say. But once the words start flowing, Céron can’t bring herself to stop. She’s always been incredibly aware of herself and her surroundings and often points them out to other people. It’s what makes her so good at her job - what made her get hired to replace a well trusted and respected assistant even though she’s still just an intern.

“Namjoon, you seem unusually hostile. In the time I have been working here, I’ve only seen you be kind and polite to people. Honestly, you’re turning into a bit of a monster.”

Jungkook is smirking at the other man but he soon turns stoic as Céron turns her sights on him.

“And you,” she says, “I don’t know you personally, so I can’t speak on behalf of your character. But I can say that you come off as being an incredibly arrogant diva who thinks the sun shines just for him. It’s really annoying and makes it hard to like you.”

Once she’s said her two cents, Céron stands in front of the two of them, half expecting to be scolded. It wouldn’t be the first time her mouth got her into trouble, though she’ll hopefully be able to talk herself out of it.

“Fair enough,” Namjoon says suddenly, “What was your name again?”

“Céron,” she says, voice strong.

“Céron . . . why don’t you sit in on the rest of this meeting and keep us both in line, hm? You’re absolutely right - we are both professionals,” he says, still shooting a glare at Jungkook, “And it is extremely important that we get this schedule all figured out. Do you have any objections, Jeon?”

Jungkook shakes his head and returns to the couch, fluffing his gigantic coat and sipping on the rest of his coffee. It’s obvious that Céron’s words affected him, even if he won’t be honest about it.

“Alright then,” Namjoon says, clapping his hands, “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

He’s honestly exhausted from fighting with Jungkook all the time. If Céron can keep them from arguing by putting both of them in their places, Namjoon is all the happier for it. After all, it means that Jungkook will be out of his hair once and for all much sooner.

“Céronnnnnnnnnn” a voice whines, startling the assistant from her previous concentration.

She received the promotion after Namjoon insisted she become his new assistant after she mediated the scheduling meeting. He and Jungkook were actually able to get some work done and without disagreements dissolving into full-blown arguments.

“Yes, Jungkook,” she says without turning from her task, eager to write down all the things she needs to bring for today’s busy schedule before she forgets something.

Namjoon’s favorite water bottle, a lint roller for Jungkook, breath mints, an entire wardrobe change for the both of them, advance CDs for them to sign and give to the radio stations . . .

“Have you seen my -”

“Your phone is over there on that table,” Céron says, nodding her head in the right direction.

Jungkook frowns. He hates being interrupted more than almost anything and would normally throw a fit, but since it’s Céron, he’ll let it pass. It’s been two weeks since the schedule was finally adjusted and sent out. Thankfully, due to Namjoon’s popularity as a producer and Jungkook’s rising fame, they didn’t run into any problems getting appointments set such last minute.

More than anything, he's upset that Céron didn’t even turn to face him. He’d dressed up nicely and everything, although he’d lied to himself and said it was because of all the public appearances he and Namjoon are making today. No, he paid extra attention to his hair and clothes today because he wanted her to notice.

Jungkook’s never had any issues getting attention, not even before he got famous, but something about Namjoon’s assistant is different. She’s so bold and upfront and willing to put him in his place and it’s exciting. It makes her interesting, makes her worth vying for attention. He’s tried to flirt with her on several occasions, but Jungkook knows that she doesn’t take him seriously and it’s starting to piss him off.

Trying not to stomp off like a child, Jungkook retrieves his misplaced phone and returns to Céron’a side, peeking over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asks, leaning as close to her as he thinks he can get away with.

From an outsider's perspective, it’s obvious what he’s doing, but Céron is focused entirely on her list.

“Trying to make sure today goes off without a hitch. The first day of promotions is the most important.”

“Mmhm,” he says, leaning just a tad closer.

“Are you wearing a new cologne?” Céron asks suddenly, turning her head and noticing how close he is for the first time.

“Yes,” he says, nearly ecstatic that she’s finally looking at him, “Do you like it?”

“Not really, no,” she says, crushing his happiness only to bring it surging right on back when she continues, “Your other one is better. It smells more like you. Sweeter. It suits you really well.”

Something inside of the star warms considerably. Before he can say anything, though, a voice calls out.

“Stop flirting with my assistant, will ya?” Namjoon says, strolling up with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh hey, Joonie,” Céron says, looking at Namjoon right away and smiling.

Jungkook scowls. Since when are the two of them on nickname basis? And why does she smile at Namjoon instead of at him?

“Is that brat bothering you?”

“Oh he’s fine,” Céron says, nudging Jungkook playfully, “He just lost his phone and needed someone to find it.”

She goes back to making her list.

Hairbrushes, lip balm, chewing gum . . .

“Sureeee” Namjoon says, his tone telling Jungkook that he sees right through his little ploy, “Are you almost ready to head out? We should get going soon.”

All the other staff members from both Namjoon and Jungkook’s company are mulling about and doing last-minute tasks.

“You guys are due to leave in five minutes. I’ll be taking one of the vans with a few other workers and catch up when we arrive at the first station.”

Both Jungkook and Namjoon’s hearts sink to their stomachs. They’d both planned on getting her to ride with them.

“But -” Namjoon starts.

“The two of you should get going. We don’t need to get behind on our first stop. It’ll mess the rest of the day up.”

“But -” Jungkook pipes in.

“And I’ll make sure to bring snacks and phone chargers since we won’t have time to stop to rest or to get some real food until late tonight.”

When neither of them moves, Céron looks up and shoos them away playfully.

“I’ll see you both in less than twenty minutes,” she says.

“But how am I supposed to function without you?” Namjoon pouts.

He’s only half kidding. Céron is the best assistant he’s ever had, always there to handle whatever issues he may have. He honestly loves having her around. His heart may beat just a tad bit faster when she’s around, but he’d never admit it. Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook. They both look away quickly, not liking the expression on the other’s face. They don’t look so disappointed.

“You’ll be fine for twenty minutes, Joonie,” she pauses, “You too Kookie. Go before you two actually make us late.”

They walk away together, each of them having to go in the same direction.

“Kookie, huh?” Namjoon pesters, trying to get a rise out of Jungkook.

“Oh shut up,” the star says, cheeks blazing red.

It’s the first time she’s ever called him that. Jungkook is incredibly pleased to have earned a nickname of his own.

“You’re one to talk, Joonie,” he pokes back, sneering.

Now it’s Namjoon’s time to blush.

Céron was right. She’s not away from either of them for more than twenty minutes before they catch sight of her mulling around with the other staff at the radio station where their first interview is taking place. Jungkook wants to go say ‘hi’ and Namjoon wants to claim that he had a very difficult time indeed going without her help for twenty whole minutes, but they’re already being ushered into the recording room and given giant headsets. They have no choice but to wait until the interview is over to speak with her.

The ‘RECORDING’ sign above the door lights up red.

“I’m so glad you guys made Smile radio your first place on this promotion tour,” one of the MCs, a young man named Jimin says, “We’re so happy to get to talk about Jungkook’s new mixtape - Allure,”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, tearing his eyes away from the glass Céron stands behind, giving him a thumbs-up, “I’m glad that it’s finally out! It’s really been a labor of love.”

As much as Namjoon still doesn’t like Jungkook, he has to agree with the younger’s words one hundred percent.

“There are twelve tracks on the album and they’re all amazing,” Jimin compliments, “Can you walk me through the production phase of these songs?”

“Well,” Namjoon says, taking over, “I usually have a couple of melodies stocked up in my computer just from messing around in my free time. Sometimes the artist I end up working with will vibe with one or more of them and that was the case this time around. Forever, the title track, had been sitting in my drafts for over a year when I let Jungkook listen to it.”

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook says, hopping in, “I already had a couple of the lyrics floating around in my brain before working with Namjoon and they just fit in so perfectly with what he showed me.”

Namjoon is the one looking through the glass now, noticing how focused Céron is on the interview. Everyone else is talking amongst themselves, already used to this sort of thing and not really caring anymore. After all, the interviews are almost all the same anyway.

But not her. Even though Céron let it spill that she’s actually a big fan of Namjoon’s work and thus has heard or watched almost every piece of media he’s released or been in, she watches intently, giving the two of them her full attention. It’s so endearing. She smiles and waves at him slightly.

“Isn’t that right Namjoon?” Jungkook says suddenly, startling Namjoon ever so slightly.

“Oh absolutely,” Namjoon says without missing a beat even though he has no idea what Jungkook and Jimin were talking about.

“And what was it like working with Namjoon for you, Jungkook?” Jimin asks, thankfully moving on from whatever the previous topic was, “I know you usually self produce all of your songs. Was it hard giving some of the control over to someone else.”

“Oh, he was great to work with,” Jungkook says, watching as Céron laughs to herself on the other side of the glass, the two of them sharing a secret.

He wishes he could hear the sound of it.

“He’s a very talented producer,” Jungkook continues, “And he’s produced music for some of the artists I look up to - V and Min Suga, for example. As I grow as an artist, I am presented with more opportunities that I never would have had before, like working with Namjoon. I know it’s all thanks to my lovely fanbase that I am where I am today, so I want to say a special thank you to all of my bunnies.”

Céron has to admit, Jungkook is quite a smooth talker. It reminds her of how dazzled he left her the first day they met, even if he was being a bit of a brat then.

Almost as if he’s reading her mind, Jungkook sends her a sly wink.

For the rest of the interview, the two men get easily diverted, playing with Céron through their answers and mannerisms, both falling a little bit deeper with every second that passes. And while they blunder over their words a bit more than usual, neither of them can say they’re upset about the distraction.

#network bangtan #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #yandere jungkook #bts x oc

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candicewright · 4 years ago

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Kindly requesting that analysis on wangxian being peak romance and how it compares to queerbaiting please 🙏 🙏 🙏

Hello, anon! I am very genuinely happy that my rambling thoughts interest you in any way (because I have a lot of thoughts) so here is my analysis as promised. It is veeeery long (almost 2k), sorry about that but I’ve really been looking forward to talking about this for a very long time. In the end, it isn’t so much about how Wangxian is peak romance and more about the censorship and how it compares to queerbaiting, I may have to do another post about that later on. Without much further ado, here it is!

The Untamed’s tasteful censorship vs. BBC Merlin’s queerbaiting and why I prefer one over the other.

I know most people follow this blog for Merlin and believe me when I say that I love this show more than I can say because it has quite literally changed my life. But The Untamed has opened my mind to a whole new world (insert Aladdin’s A Whole New World here) and it has given me a lot of perspective on a lot of things.

I often joke with my friends saying that my first consideration when choosing a new show to watch is saying “is it gay?” which is not far from the truth, but it’s also not the complete story. What I mean is that I ask myself “does this show have a relationship that I think is worth getting invested in?”. Yes, t usually happens that those are not heterosexual romances, but what can I say, I’m queer and I like my emotional support fictional characters to be so too. This is the exact reasoning that led me to Merlin. I saw a couple of videos about them on youtube and immediately found their dynamic compelling and their story beautifully tragic. But like with most shows these days, the writers failed (among other things) to make their relationship explicit. This has happened with every show I watched after Merlin too; The Witcher, Sherlock and Good Omens being the most notable ones.

You can argue if they are or are not queerbaiting, I at least think Good Omens isn’t, but again, it is pretty subjective.

But i had grown so accustomed to this type of media that I fully went into The Untamed expecting something similar.

And oh boy was I wrong.

Now, the case of The Untamed is a curious one because it is supposed to be a love story between two men due to being based on a BL novel, but because of censorship, it had to be very toned down. I found this out right before actually watching the show while doing some preliminary research and while it did change my thought on what I was getting into I truly thought they would just erase the entire relationship and try to hide it behind straight relationships like in most other shows I had watched.

But that was absolutely not the case, to my endless relief and joy.

But how? How did they get away with censoring all the explicit aspects of a romantic relationship while still managing to tell a wonderful love story? And how does this compare to the queerbaiting of a show like Merlin?

Warning: I will be using different parts of both shows and probably some of the MDZS novel to illustrate my point, so there will be spoilers.

The initial accidental chemistry + innuendos vs. The establishment of the very clear enemies to friends to lovers trope

I’m going to use Merlin to compare and contrast this because it’s what I know best and the other show I've given a lot of thought to.

Merthur and Wangxian are both similar and different dynamics in the way they’re written and it was one of the things that drew me into The Untamed in the first place. Both stories begin with our main duo meeting and instantly disliking each other, ending up in a fight. And while they both set the story up to lead to a more intimate bond being created between the pairs, there’s something very different from the start.

Merthur is deliberately set up to be a close friendship and all innuendos and chemistry are accidental (in my opinion and only at the start). Let me explain.

The concept for Merlin clearly started with the idea of how the story would change if Merlin was a young boy arriving in Camelot instead of an old powerful sorcerer. Then they made the main plot to be his destiny/friendship with the young and arrogant Prince Arthur. I truly believe that the first innuendos were not what they intended and that all chemistry and sexual tension between the characters comes courtesy of Colin and Bradley and how undeniably good they look on screen together. Fans then started speculating (as we always do) and then the production team decided to run with it, making it almost a recurring joke when it shouldn’t have been. Had they treated that developing relationship seriously like what they were hinting it was, the show would have been very different.

The Untamed on the other hand, is everything but accidental. What they’re doing is deliberately establishing the enemies to friends to lovers trope from the very beginning. It’s not an accident that during their first fight on the roof of the Cloud Recesses Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that women would find his true character very disappointing and that no one would want to marry him. he says so several times in fact and this is clearly both to highlight the change in their relationship as well as to say that Lan Wangji is not at all interested in the opinion of any female (or anyone besides Wei Wuxian for that matter). This is the same stuff we see in mainstream straight romances: one of the characters saying something to the effect of “who would want to date them?” only to end up involved with the other at the end of the story.

You could argue that Merlin does something similar with the conversation between Merlin and Kilgharrah where Merlin is affronted by the idea of having to help Arthur where he says “There must be another Arthur because this one’s an idiot...If someone wants to kill him, they can go right ahead. In fact, I’ll give them a hand.” but the difference between these two is that Merlin is hiding behind the guise of destiny and friendship to make these parallels while Wangxian is deliberately and clearly in a romantic context.

The deliberate continuation of the subtext vs. The suggestion of something more

The accidental nature of the subtext doesn’t last long and in true BBC fashion, it turns into full-on queerbaiting real fast. Again, you can argue endlessly about when the deliberately suggestive comments start, but by the end of the show, we know for a fact the entire production staff and even the staff were aware of the effect and reception their show was having. This was no longer an innocent mistake on people reading too much into it, it was a very purposeful narrative that they were pushing without ever truly committing to it. This is what got fans going crazy over “poetry” or lines like “you’re the only friend I have and I couldn’t bear to lose you”. These are all very intentional choices they made to keep their devoted fanbase interested and while we’re all very thankful for this material it really keeps us wondering what it could have been if they had taken that extra step.

The Untamed can’t take that step because of the censorship laws, but it’s still much more daring than Merlin ever was. While Merlin keeps the soulmate aspect of the Merthur relationship a suggestion, The Untamed outright says it, which was baffling to me. It even does it at a pint where the first kiss happened in the novel, which you would think makes it less romantic. But that's absolutely not the case because of both the non-consensual nature of that original kiss and because of how heartbreakingly beautiful the replacement scene is. Not only that, but they also keep all the elements you could expect to see in any pre-relationship stage of a developing romance story: endless amounts of mutual pining, not-really-unrequited love, jealousy, panicking at the sight of your crush (yes I’m looking at you 15-year-old Lan Wangji) and even some fun in vino veritas moments. They even have a son together! It doesn’t get more clear than that!

This is all the way the show has of suggesting something more without outright saying (even though it’s a pretty not subtle way of suggesting it).

Merlin, on the other hand, keeps trying to deny the romantic nature of the Merthur dynamic, which brings me to my next point.

The introduction of a female love interest as an excuse vs. The awareness that the audience understands the relationship in the way it's meant to be

Now, this one really bugs me, because of all the ways they could have done this they truly chose the worst and destroyed Gwen’s character in the process.

In my opinion, the writers could have done a few different things. They could have fully developed the Merthur relationship as a romantic one while keeping Gwen’s role as a queen and creating a much more satisfying character arch for her, maybe even getting her together with Morgana or Lancelot. They could have focused on the Awen romance and therefore lowered the suggestions of romance between Merlin and Arthur, once again creating a much more enjoyable subplot for Gwen, though it could have also meant sacrificing the very powerful bond between the main characters. They could have even taken advantage of Gwen’s crush on Merlin in the first season and gone on the full-on polyamory direction! That would have been much better! Instead, they halfassed the romance between Arthur and Gwen and made it just...meh. Not that Angel and Bradley didn’t do a great job, it was more of a writing problem than a them problem.

The Untamed (despite the rumours and possibilities of a Wen Qing/Wei Wuxian relationship) decided to just run with the not really platonic relationship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, making them the complete focus of the story while still upholding the censorship laws. What I think the biggest difference between the two shows is, is that one runs on assuming the audience is stupid while the other one assumes the audience is smart.

Let me explain once more.

The Merlin writers clearly thought that by introducing Gwen as the love interest to Arthur he would just become what? Magically straight? As if we hadn’t seen the last four seasons of sexual tension between him and Merlin? The audience was not fooled for the most part, but some people did fall for this, coming with the argument “But he’s married to Gwen so he’s straight!” as if being gay or straight are the only two possibilities but oh well.

The Untamed does quite the opposite. It relies on the fact that the audience is going to catch onto the romantic aspect of the narrative without them actively saying anything because we are Not Dumb. It also does something that I think is quite beautiful which is leaving it up for interpretation as far as whether it’s platonic or not and even more touching is the way the story has resonated with the ace community (that is according to what I’ve seen, please do correct me if I’m wrong) by focusing on their emotional and intellectual connection instead of in their physical and sexual one.

This is why, in the end, I prefer what I call The Untamed’s tasteful censorship over Merlin and other shows’ blatant queerbaiting.

I feel the need after all of this to state that Merlin is still my favorite show of all time and that this is not by any means me saying that Merlin is absolute trash or something like that. There’s also a lot more that I think can be said in this conversation, so please feel free to tell me what you think and if you’ve ever encountered something similar to this.

Also, if I made any mistakes or wrong points, please don’t be shy about telling me!

I hope this rant was at least somewhat interesting and that you found it satisfactory, anon!

#mdzs/cql meta #merlin meta #the untamed #cql #wangxian #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #ask response #i have a lot of feelings #someone stop me #long post

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nicole-lynne · 5 years ago

Text

If You Scare Me, You Have to Kiss Me

This was a request from @armyaghasekpop4ever for a fluffy Peter Parker story. I’m sorry this is so late, but I finally got a little bit of motivation so here’s this. Hope you enjoy and forgive me for it taking forever! I also didn’t proof read this soooooo apologies.

Give a like/reblog/comment if you enjoy this!

The noisy video game blasted from the tv speakers while you and best friend, Peter, bickered about who was going to win the racing game you were playing. Peter kept reaching across the couch to mess with your controller and tickling you so you were squirming around while you kept trying to push him away from you but he just laughed and continued, using his super strength.

"Can you two please calm down." May asked, walking into the living room. Both of you stopped to stare at her, baffled at the slinky red dress she was wearing. It wasn't very often she dressed up but when she did, she could knock the socks off of anyone.

"Wow, May, you look hot! You have a date?" You pretended to fan yourself and she waved you off before encouraging you to continue jokingly.

"As a matter of a fact, I do. It's a man I met who works at the shelter, John. You said you’re staying tonight since your parents are out of town, right? Are you two going to be fine for dinner?"

You nodded reassuringly, attempting to hide the fact that you were psyched to be alone with Peter for the night. He’d been your best friend since you’d moved into the building a few years ago and the two of you spent almost every day together. There was also a tiny part of you that was crushing on him - hard. It would be impossible not to. He was crazy smart, hilarious, kind, attractive, and a literal superhero, not that many people knew that.

There was only the very obvious reason why you hadn’t told him yet. You were completely terrified to lose him if things went bad. Peter and May were always there for you with your parents traveling so much for work and you weren’t sure what you’d do if you didn’t have them to turn to.

"We'll survive. Although you may not have a nephew to come home to if he keeps cheating."

"Hey! I am not cheating, it's not my fault you suck at this game."

"I don't suck, you keep messing me up." You shouted as you threw a pillow at his head which he dodged and narrowly missed before he settled back into his space next to you, the heat coming off his skin making a shiver run down your spine.

"It's alright, hun, we all know that I'm fine as long as I've got my favorite girl." May patted your shoulder and you both started giggling at the shocked look on Peter’s face. "I put some money on the counter for take out later. Please try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

"I'll behave if he behaves. Have fun, May!" You called out after her as she ran out and closed the door. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, kicking your ass."

Next to you, Peter still hadn't picked up his controller, instead, he was staring at the closed door in deep thought. You started snapping your fingers loudly, trying to get his attention, and his focus shifted to you.

“You okay, Pete?”

“Ye-yeah, I just was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie?”

“What about the game?”

“Eh, I’ve beat you enough for today, gotta give you a chance to rest up.” He teased with a little sparkle in his eyes. Rolling your eyes, you shoved his arm futilely and he chuckled at how weak you were. “Why don’t you go order the food while I pick a movie.”

“Fine, but don’t pick anything stupid. I don’t think I can handle watching Animal House or Die Hard for the thousandth time.” You said over your shoulder, ignoring his inevitable eyeroll.

“Those movies are classics, I tell you, classics!” For as much as he protested your disinterest in his favorite movies, Peter had a different movie in mind and clicked through netflix until he found the one.

He’d been trying, and chickening out, for months to tell you how he felt about you. So instead, he’d been settling for finding any possible way to have you right next to him. Luckily, you were completely terrified of scary movies and he knew, without a doubt, that your soft body would be pressed against him in minutes if he could convince you to watch it.

He queued it up just in time as you walked back in, chattering away to the girl from the Thai place next door.

“Kanya said it’ll be up in ten minutes. What’d you pick?”

“It’s called Lights Out.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Peter Benjamin Parker, that sounds like a scary movie. You know I don’t do scary movies.”

“Oh come on, I’ve been dying to see it since it came out. And I spend all my time with you so I haven’t had the chance. It won’t be that bad,” flashing you the puppy eyes, he folding his hands together, “please?”

With one look from his big brown eyes, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. You looked around the room, anywhere but him, and he knew that he had you. You almost never looked at him when you were about to give in.

“Ugh, alright! You owe me two chick flicks and dinner from that Italian place I love.”

“No way, I hate that place.” Peter grumbled.

“Do you want me to watch this movie or not? Because I’m perfectly happy to watch something happier.”

He stood still for a few minutes, pretending to think about the options. “Okay, deal. Next weekend, you and me, rom coms, and Magiano’s.” Throwing out his hand, you two shook on the deal at the same time there was a knock on the door.

While you set up the food, Peter shut the curtains, turned off the lights, and draped the blanket over you both. Clicking play, he gave you a small nudge and your heart fluttered at how happy he looked.

~~~

Two hours later, you were smushed right against Peter, hiding your face behind his shoulder, peeking up once in a while to watch the girl on the tv be attacked by the demon shadow thing. Everytime you jumped your nails would dig in his arm and Peter would laugh and rub your thigh lightly to comfort you. Secretly, he’d barely even been watching the movie, only watching you, and loving every minute of it.

The moment you opened one eye to see what was going to happen next, there was a loud crash outside on the fire escape, the sound making you jump out of your skin and start screaming bloody murder. Popcorn flew through the air and covered their laps. Peter instantly pulled you into his arms protectively, on high alert for danger, before he realized the stray neighborhood cat had knocked over a plant.

“Hey, it’s alright, it was just Alley Cat.” The tension melted out of Peter’s muscles, but he kept his arms around you.

“Are you sure?” Your voice muffled against his neck, your warm breath making his eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

“Yes, I’m positive, you’re safe. Plus, you know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” He said quietly.

Slowly, you lifted your head up to look up at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and your heart thumping erratically in your chest. Carefully, he lifted his hand and brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, studying your reaction closely.

The smell of his laundry detergent mixed with the spearmint of his toothpaste and was fogging your brain. You’d been this close to him before but something felt different and your chest was tight with nerves. Glancing down between your two bodies, you saw that Peter had pulled you onto his lap in the chaos of it all.

“Oops, I’m sorry-” You quickly shifted to get off him, but his arm was still wrapped around your waist and he held you tight so you couldn’t move.

“Don’t be sorry...I like it.” He had never said anything like that before and you searched his face, certain he was joking around with you. His face stayed serious and you knew if you turned the lights on, there would be a hint of pink growing on his cheeks.

“You do?” You managed to squeak in response.

Peter let out a breathy chuckle, “how could I not?”

“Well, because I’m crushing you and this is kind of a close encounter and you think I’m your personal space.”

“Okay, one, you’re not crushing me, you dingbat. You weigh absolutely nothing to me. And two, I like having you in my personal space.” Then he sharply inhaled and his eyes went wide. “Did that sound weird? God, that was a stupid thing to say-”

“Pete,” you held a finger to his lips, stopping his string of babble. “It wasn’t weird. I, um, I like being this close to you.”

Vaguely you could feel his fingers rubbing circles on your back and they had only stopped for a fraction of a second when you said that. You held your breath as the words sunk in to him, your finger falling from his lips gradually. The situation was already intimate enough, might as well add a little more to it.

“You do?” He asked, echoing your earlier question.

“I guess your spidey sense hasn’t been working much lately?” You rolled your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips.

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have you not noticed how much you make my heart race or how I get goosebumps every time your skin just barely brushes against mine? How I spend literally all of my time with you instead of anyone else.” Taking a deep breath, you spoke again. “I like you, Peter. A lot.”

His jaw dropped open and you giggled. Lifting a finger underneath his jaw, you closed his mouth but his face still looked mystified.

“You’ll catch flies that way, dork-”

Peter cut you off by connecting his lips to yours in a hurried kiss. Before you could register what had happened, he was pulling away and you were chasing his lips, your eyes still closed with satisfaction. Finally, you hazily blinked your eyes open to see Peter grinning.

Heat surfaced on your cheeks and you let your head drop onto his shoulder, hiding your face from his view. His hand cupped the back of your head and he was pressing little kisses to the parts of your face he could reach.

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for so long.” He whispered under his breath. “I like you too, have for a while.”

You lifted your head just enough that you could smile up at him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before slipping your arms around his waist. “I was so worried you would reject me...”

“I’d have to be an idiot to reject someone as gorgeous and amazing as you. You make me so happy. When you moved in a few years ago, I thought I was having a heart attack. Just one look at you made my heart stop, babe.”

Your stomach flipped at the casual use of the nickname. A nickname you’d always wanted to hear from him but never thought you would. You almost had the urge to pinch yourself just to make sure that this was truly happening and not some sick joke from your subconscious.

“I can’t believe I waited so long to tell you when I could have been kissing you this whole time.” Peter tightened his hold on you, keeping you firm against his chest.

You snorted. “I can’t believe I had to watch that scary movie just for you to finally kiss me.”

Peter’s chest rumbled below you with a chuckle. “Well we never actually finished the movie, ya know, so I guess I don’t have to go to Magiano’s after all.”

“No, no, no,” You shot up quickly and thumped him on the arm. “You’re not getting out of Magiano’s, Peter Parker. If anything, you owe me even more because I’m now allowing you to kiss me.”

Smiling sweetly, he brushed his lips against yours again before relenting, “babe, I’ll go anywhere you want.”

#Peter Parker #Fluff peter #spider man #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #nicole-lynnerequests #peter parker story

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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So Done

Daniel (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) & Reader (Trans Masc - using They/them pronouns)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic fluff, humor

Summary: Having a crush isn’t easy but having a friend who has a crush he thinks is hopeless is even worse. Dealing with the constant self-deprecation and agony, Y/N’s gotten used to it, but damn if they stop trying to convince Daniel otherwise. Cause that’s what best friends do.

Requested by my platonic spouse @hopeveon Here’s the fic you requested literal ages ago bro - sorry for the wait! Still, hope you enjoy it :) Love, Vy ❤

“If you don’t stop gazing dreamily at Taylor, I swear imma throw a french-fry at your forehead.“ I caught onto Daniel’s inability to focus on the conversation we were having quite early on so I just gave up on it. Well, not completely - he has a tendency of claiming he’s been listening to all I’ve said so I’ve just been rambling nonsense for the past ten minutes and he hasn’t reacted to ANYTHING. Yeah, he’s totally paying attention. TOTALLY.

It’s not like I mind it or anything - ok, sometimes I do, but what really bugs me is this dragging out of the inevitable love story that’s gonna occur here, no matter how hopeless he claims his case to be. Trying to beat that mindset out of him hasn’t proved to be effective nor has beating him out of that mindset so I’m just left to my own devices here because he’s starting to prove me wrong - he might actually be a hopeless case. Just not in the way he thinks.

“W-what?“ He suddenly snaps out of his odd state, turning to look at me with a baffled gaze. Probably the sound of Taylor’s name set him off. It seems to be the only way I can draw his attention.

You see, I’ve known Daniel since high school sophomore year which means I’ve seen him have several crushes and girlfriends over the years. However, I have never seen him whipped quite like this. My dude’s literally in love and completely star-struck. And very fucking discouraged in the romantic field for some reason. I don’t understand when or why this sudden change in him happened but I can’t say I’m a fan. He’s always been the confident one in our duo and I’ve seen him win over girls with a single conversation many times. Yet here he is, across the cafeteria from the girl he’s infatuated with, unable to work up the courage to even text her let alone go up to her and talk to her.

Instead, he sits here, pretending to be listening to me. Wonderful, but I’d like the old Daniel back please.

“I said it’d be cool if a meteor struck that dumbass who sits next to me in class.“ I say, my head tilted to the side, very unamused.

He furrows his brows, lost and confused as though he needs a map for the conversation, “And what does Taylor have to do with that?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’m typically a person of average patience but right now I feel a really strong urge to grab neon signs and spell it all out for Daniel. I roll my eyes and take a deep breath so I don’t snap, “Nothing with the meteor, but she’s got plenty to do with the fact that you’re completely different compared to the Daniel I knew in high school.”

He shrugs his shoulders like an accused child that doesn’t wanna admit what they did wrong. “College changed me.”

I give him another eye-roll, more annoyed than the previous, “That’s bullshit. You were the same dumbass in freshman year too.” I say, observing as he insecurely pushes his food around the plate with the plastic fork, “It’s all got to do with Taylor. You can’t rattle my resolve there.”

It’s his turn to be annoyed - the audacity he has, damn. “Alright, thanks Y/N, great observations. How about you give me some solutions though? Seeing as how I’m a dumbass and all that.”

“Well you are...“ I reply, unbothered by his childish outburst, “...especially since I just gave you a solution to your damn problem: go and talk to her! You have like four classes together, do you really have nothing to discuss? Any interests in common? Anything?“

“I don’t know.” He sighs defeatedly, “We’ve never talked about our interests. But I bet she’s not a video game nerd like I am. Nor does she look like she’s into sports. The most we could have in common is music and who knows what kind of music she listens to.“

“Oh God, I’m on the brink of losing my sanity.“ I mutter under my breath, burying my face in my hands. This is literal agony. “Daniel, YOU’d know if you went up to her and talked to her! Meeting people isn’t a guessing game - and look who’s talking! I hate approaching people first too, but this case of yours is too severe.“

“You realize you’re being hypocritical right now?“ He dares to ask me.

“You realize you’re being an actual coward right now?“ I retort, narrowing my eyes at him with what I can only describe as a threat put into a look. Oh if looks could kill, I would’ve killed his doubts asap.

He tilts his head back, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back into his seat, “You can’t be serious....”

“They are serious, but more importantly - they are right.“ Says a voice I recognize immediately. One that belongs to the guy that just occupied one of the last two open seats at our table - Andrew. “And you gotta stop torturing yourself like this, Dan.“

“Yourself and us. This feels like watching paint dry with ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ as a soundtrack for it.“ I intervene, “It’s absolutely fucking brutal.“

Daniel’s gaze switches between Andrew and I, clearly defeated considering he’s been outnumbered and very clearly second-guessing his decision to be sitting here with us right now. “Two against one, this ain’t even fair.” He finally says through an uneasy sigh.

“It’s perfectly fair in democracy - two votes you go talk to Taylor, one - yours - for the opposite option.“ I shrug my shoulders, fist-bumping Andrew the table. “So...I think you know what you gotta do.“

His gaze does a few more back-and-fourths between the two of us before he mutters, “I’m so done with the two of you” and gets up out of his chair, headed to the other side of the cafeteria where Taylor’s seated with a few of her friends seniors.

“We’re done with you too!“ We call out to him in unison, watching as he walks away, no doubt having an inward debate on what to say or do.

“He’s gonna thank us one day.“ Andrew says, taking a sip of his soda.

I nod, a small smile appearing on my face as I say: “Ten bucks says he’ll get too in-depth about the weather.“

Andrew snorts, almost choking on his drink as he bursts out laughing, “I’m not picking that up, I can’t afford to lose another ten bucks to a bet with you.”

“Smart guy, smart guy.“ I chuckle, stealing the unopened soda can Daniel left behind. Considering he has sat down at the seniors’ table and appears to be making casual small talk by the looks of it, I don’t think he’ll be returning to complain about the stolen drink anytime soon.

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Dragon Dancer IV: The Journey to Dreams

I wanted to leave the Kabuki school as soon as I could to get back to Lu Mingfei and Erii. If I didn’t return in time, the woodblock would be used, Lu Mingfei would turn into a monster. They would kill him.

That Beowulf family of monstrous hybrids likely would delight in devouring them, in feeling that rush of drinking pure dragon blood, the first they had tasted in generations They didn’t see Lu Mingfei as innocent, like I did. They’d already pronounced their death sentence.

My knees wobbled, twitching with anxiety while Chime sat serene in front of a mirror. He painted his face a stark gleaming white, as white as his long ivory hair that cascaded down a shimmering white and silver colored Kimono.

The Kimono reminded me of a white dragon, the silver markings were like the elongated scales of a fish. Underneath a bright red robe peeked out from the silky folds. It was all tied together with a black obi belt.

With a brush, he applied dark powder to his eyebrows and eyelids, exaggerating the corners and giving the illusion of large eyes.

He finished with bright shiny lip color, pressing his lips on crimson paper. Finally, he tied up his hair in a top knot with silver ribbon.

He then turned to me. The flash of his red eyes from his white face sent my heart racing.

He asked in a soft, smooth voice. “Are you ready?”

He held out one hand without looking behind him. A student hurried forward with an ornate wooden box, carved with serpents and lacquered in bright red. He opened it and, nestled in blue velvet depressions, were a pair of long fans. Chime gripped them in his pale fingers and rose up, like a ghost from a crypt.

He approached me, his feet sliding forward, moving imperceptibly. His shadow fell over me, as well as the cold light in his eyes. He wasn’t smiling. “It’s time to go.”

I stood up, breathing rapidly. He was so different from the person I remembered who was so easily moved to tears and now more closely resembled the one I saw years ago in the winter dark of the Comemnus Building. Back then, I didn’t know him or Herzog. He came at me like a demon from my nightmares. I’d used Release on him and when he looked at me he was completely different, weak and vulnerable.

This was the power of the woodblock. A power that Chime was now freed from. Now if I used Release, he wouldn’t change into someone else. He would stay the same as he was now, smiling with a cool, shrewd glint in his eye.

“What’s wrong?”

Would Mingfei turn into someone like this? Someone with such an insufferable intimidating aura? “Mingfei... you said... he isn’t the person I should have met.”

“That’s correct. The person you should have met was altered by Herzog long ago.” His dark lids hooded his laser red eyes, surrounding them in darkness..

“I don’t want to lose Mingfei. He’s my friend. Without him... I never would have found Chu Zihang. He always had faith in me. He...” I looked up at him desperately. “I don’t know if what I’m doing is right. Enxi... I don’t really know her.”

Enxi’s sad eyes. Her sudden apology. If what I was doing was right... why was I so scared?

“Meixiu... you are a loyal friend. However... the legacy of Herzog must be erased from this world for this world to ever see peace, for humans or for Hybrids.

With a sharp shake of his wrists, the fans he held snapped open in front of my face, revealing two large painted eyes, surrounded by draconic script. The script began to read itself into my brain. It swirled and cascaded into my vision, blinding me.

I gripped my head as it filled with whispers.

“Chu Meixiu. You have to listen to me now. You’re going to take me to Erii’s compound. You are going to take me to Mingfei and no matter what anyone says, you’re going to allow me to take him into the world of Nightmare.”

Like a cage suddenly slamming shut around me, my mind lost control of my own body. I was still thinking, I was still scared. But my body was no longer reacting that way. My heart beat slow and steady, my breathing was even. I smiled.

What was happening? Chime... what did he do to me?

“I was hoping you wouldn’t have second thoughts. I know this is difficult. But the Personality separation Treatment has to be eliminated from the knowledge of Hybrids. If you hate me later, I accept that.”

While I struggled to break free, my hand was reaching out and taking his hand into mine. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t even produce any tears. I suddenly saw an image of the compound in Tibet where Erii waited for me.

Wait.... Wait!

The darkness closed in and in three seconds we had arrived at the temple where Erii and Mingfei had been hiding. Chime let go of my hand but I was still under his spell.

Blood Rage... Use Blood Rage! But it was like a communication line between my mind and body had been severed. It wasn’t listening.

“Meixiu!” Mingfei’s bright voice greeted me. He was jogging towards me, with a smile, waving with his one arm. “I take it the mission was a success!”

No! Mingfei! Run away! You don’t know what’s about to happen! My mind fought against Chime but I couldn’t free myself from his overwhelming paralysis.

“Meixiu?” His smile faded when I didn’t respond.

Erii followed him, accompanied by her translator, her expression grim.

Her translator spoke in a nervous tremble. “EVA is assaulting Tsukino Usagi It will be a few minutes before our hideaway collapses.”

“What? How? How did they find us?” Mingfei asked, slacked jawed.

“We were hacked. Someone in Cassell hacked us.” She looked up solemnly at her her brother, Chime.

“They are coming with the woodblock sound. They plan on taking control of you two.” Chime said. “I’m here to hopefully shield you from that.”

Erii’s eyes widened in terror and her hands flew to her mouth. Then she looked confused. She held up her two fingers and looked questioningly at Chime.

Mingfei’s eyes narrowed, like a shadow had passed over him. His gaze grew distant and his eyes shifted as though looking at something right behind him. What was it?

Mingfei’s fists balled at his sides. “I’m sorry, Erii... You won’t understand why, but this is ... this is my fault.”

Erii looked up at him in confusion.

He looked down at her and sighed. “It’s... It’s hard to explain. But... I should have known. I never should have come and stayed with you. I put you in danger.”

Erii shook her head. She clapped her hands on either side of his cheeks and pulled his face down to hers, staring into his eyes.

I was as confused as she was. What did he mean by put her in danger?

“There’s another part of me you don’t know about. The real reason I was able to beat Herzog.” Mingfei’s voice broke. “The real reason I was able to hide out in the Hydra clans as Akira Ryuu.”

She stared into his eyes, baffled.

Chime filled in the blank. “Like Ruri Kazama and Chime Gen... Mingfei’s personality has two parts. When he hears the woodblock sound, he loses control and becomes a Devil.”

Erii suddenly let go of him. Her eyes swam with tears and she shook her head in disbelief.

“It’s true.”

“Miss Erii! Miss Erii!”

A monk came running out of the compound. “The airport has been completely overrun by unknown aircraft and troops! All communication and roads are being blocked off!”

Erii signed with sharp and commanding gestures. “Get the townspeople into the mountains! Sound the alarm! We can’t let innocent people get hurt!”

She turned back to Mingfei and the embraced him, holding him tight. She signed sharply. “I will kill them all for you!”

“No! You can’t! If you hear the sound! You’ll be as helpless as me! And if you use your Word Spirit Judgment... you could turn into a devil even without the sound!”

She signed. “I don’t care. I wanted them to leave me alone. They’ve come to hurt you, to take you away from me!”

From my inner prison I wondered how much she really understood. Erii was often ignorant about basic things of the world, but when it came to life and death as a hybrid, she was instinctively insightful based on her own experience.

“I won’t let them take you away from me.” Erii signed again.

Mingfei suddenly seemed distracted. He clutched his head. “Will you stop it!” He turned and looked at a patch of empty grass.

His outburst startled everyone there to witness it. He turned, looking at me, mortified.

“I uh... pretend you didn’t see that.”

Chime’s voice interrupted. “Mingfei... you have to become one to fight them. If you give in to the woodblock... all is lost.”

A loud buzzing suddenly became audible. We all turned and saw a phalanx of black helicopters zooming towards us on the horizon.

Erii grabbed Mingfei by the wrist and dragged him inside the dark temple. We all followed her in, down a stone staircase and into a fall out shelter with a metal door. She closed it with a loud bang and locked it shut.

I was very serene on the outside, but I watched Mingfei with an increasing panic. A sweat had broken out on his face. He was shaking.

“Now...” Chime said. “Mingfei. Have you decided?”

Mingfei straightened up. His face was a blank. All emotion had been swept away and replaced by a dull, self-deprecating smile. “Do I really have a choice?” He laughed. “Ah... This day had to come I guess.”

He turned to Erii and walked up to her. “Look.. No matter what happens. After this. I want to put a ring on your finger.” He held out his hand and she accepted it.

He raised her hand and kissed. “I love you Erii... Don’t forget it.”

Tears rolled down her face and she clung to him.

“Sh... don’t talk.” He whispered. Then he pulled her hands away, giving them a loving pat. “I’ll... be right back.”

He approached the ghostly figure of Chime. The two men faced each other.

“I will take you to the land of Nightmare. There are no Soul Skills in that place. It will be your mind at war with itself. The one that comes out the winner, will forever rule the body.”

Chime... Did it really have to be this way? I thought from within my body.

“I want to take Meixiu with me.” Mingfei replied.

I wondered if that was possible.

Chime beckoned to me and I was coerced into walking over to stand next to Mingfei.

This time Chime’s fans opened slowly and in a small undulating gesture of the painted eyes, my vision grew blurry.

His voice was like like a trembling bird’s song.

“In the flow of time, the heart-wrenching things come and go. I don't even know the heart that separates me from here.”

Why was I understanding what he was saying? The words of the song weren’t in Japanese, Chinese or English. He was singing Dragon Words.

The waving of the fans was hypnotic. I couldn’t look away even as the world around me melted and became indistinct. I saw my family’s faces, scenes from my childhood. I was back on the stage dancing on point, spinning, surrounded by the ghosts of my past.

“It doesn't matter if it moves from the beginning. It flows into the clear space of time. Before I realize it, the seasons have changed. They just change. If you feel troubled, listen to the fading words of your dreams.”

I lifted up my head and opened my eyes. I wasn’t in Tibet any more but on a boat, kneeling on the deck. Waves lapped against the hull rocking it. I lifted myself up from the wooden planks and stood. They sky was dark and stormy. Lightning and peals of thunder rumbled in turbulent clouds. But the sea itself was tranquil.

Mingfei stood in front of me, staring at a boy in a black suit, seated on the railing.

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Lu Mingfei #Chime Gen #Erii Uesugi

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exobyharu · 5 years ago

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PCY - One Shot

Image source to follow. I just Googled it like this

“You just freaking downgraded me!”

Summary: PCY knows that he’s being a five -year-old for treating you like a guy. But what’s a man to do when the girl he likes is taken? Here’s a friendly little back and forth with PCY a few days after you break up with your boyfriend.

⏰10:01 AM

🌏A deserted mall parking lot, but only because it’s not open yet

🌞The kind of sunny that makes PCY squint.

👥YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun (mentioned), YBN (your ex-boyfriend) (mentioned)

Notes: It’s been forever! But I’m still alive! There’s a little mention of implied violence, but it’s all just cute, really. Sorry I take too long!

Words: ~2,100

💙💙💙

“Or you can quit telling me how to live my life, Chanyeol,” you complain, putting your phone down because you finally spot Chanyeol getting down their company car in his glorious failure of a disguise – a white cap and facemask, worn under a hoodie with the word BALENCIAGA spelled in angry bold letters across his broad back. For an idol who has spent years in the limelight, you would think that the guy had grown wiser in his choice of outfits for public places like, this instance, a mall parking lot. Even that middle-aged woman raking leaves across the entrance gives him a second look.

Who wouldn’t?

Because there is no need to walk like that – with a slight upward tilt in his head, one hand pressing a phone to his ear and the other on his hip, strutting confidently with smooth, long strides. You make a mental note to remind him that the pavement is no catwalk. It’s almost mesmerising, watching a real-life supermodel approach you, looking fresh even when his eyes are squinting hard against the mid-morning sun.

About three meters away, his voice is distinctly Chanyeol, but just a bit huskier than usual as if he is dying to put on a show. Too bad there seems to be no one else watching but you.

“It’s real! You’re here!“ he calls out anyway, extending a clenched fist – a move that you recognise is reserved for his male friends. You stare at the fist bump that never happened, knowing well what he would say if you take his bait. Something along the lines of: For a man, your hands are small, or How’s my brother in a woman’s body? or That’s my little YN-niee! which is always followed by Yah! I really wish you were born a guy!

So you stare at his hand, not sharing the level of his excitement. Shit just happened. You have too little energy to deal with Chanyeol’s fantasies of you as his younger brother. When he notices your lack of enthusiasm, his outstretched hand goes for your head and attempts to mess your hair up instead. “You must be desperate to waste money. The mall does not open in an hour.”

Just desperate to get out of my head, really.

On a regular day, you would hate even the wind for ruining your hair. But this time, his hands are surprisingly gentle. You make an effort to ignore how it feels and snap back at him, anyway. “It’s called Retail Therapy. You just don’t understand the joy of buying yourself new clothes because you never have to.”

He proudly concurs with a smug raise of his brows. “That’s true. I never have to.” It’s that attitude of his that always earns him a slap to his arm. But his fingers are playfully combing through your hair now, and you do not exactly hate the feeling. So you just let him, hoping nobody with a camera on his person ever sees this happening.

“Meanwhile, may I comment that the whole look you went for this morning is aptly low profile,” you tell him for the sake of saying something.

But what you say makes him tug at his training pants reflexively. “These?”

When he removes his cap, pulls down his mask, and appraises his outfit, you realise that he had just overlooked your sarcasm.

“Uh-huh. It totally pleads Don’t Stalk Me, Dispatch. I'm Not Park Chanyeol, I Promise.”

He chuckles. “It’s protection,” he reasons, completely getting rid of the cap and mask.

“Protection? From what? The sun?”

This time, it is you, genuinely not picking up on the joke – or pun – either way, you know that he spends quite a lot of time with his good friend Baekhyun who gives equally horrible punch lines. You have met the guy a few times and you are sure that the baffled look you had on your face is the exact same one you’re giving Chanyeol at the moment.

He seems to enjoy it. It takes him a few seconds to explain. “It’s protection from you.”

From me?

“Excuse you, but I’m the one who needs protecting!” You argue and it makes him grin from ear to ear. You realise that you had just given him the reaction he was hoping to get.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, “Based on last night’s phone call, you’re upset over your boyfriend. And do you know what you do when you’re upset, in general?”

“What?” Frankly, you know that you do a lot of things.

“You flail your arms around and hit people!” Chanyeol exclaims, and then he stretches his arms out and flaps them, trying to imitate how you’re supposed to look. It’s ridiculous how he is making it appear worse than it actually is. “You and your little man paws! Hitting innocent people all because your boyfriend made you cry again! It’s about time–””

“Yah! For the final time, Chanyeol, I am not a man! Also, must I tell you, he’s not my boyfriend anymore!”

“Shut it! You are one of us so that makes you a – wait, you… He… What?” There’s a bit of a delay, but in a snap, his energy drops, his eyes grow wide and your first point is now obviously abandoned.

“It’s what I said,” you clarify reluctantly. “And, my main point right now, please stop treating me like a guy, already!”

Chanyeol’s not hearing any of what you just said. His eyes remain on yours, searching for any hint of a lie.

He does not find one. “You’re saying… That YBN is not?? …Anymore?”

Again, the same reaction. It’s the same words, the same tone, the same look of caution and concern – it’s always the same questions every time you tell somebody new. All the repetitive explaining is starting to become more painful than the breakup itself. You hate it more than you can express. It makes you lose it for a moment and yell at your friend with careless regard for your surroundings. “You understood the first time! Why does everyone want me to spell it out?!”

That is when you realise that he is right. Your hands have a mind of their own.

“Yah! Yah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chanyeol whines, using his forearm to fend off a jab that you were about to give him. Just as he had predicted. “Watch out because people around here will know who you’re hitting. Do that a few more times and you’ll be exposed. My fans won’t like it!”

You roll your eyes at his sudden mood shift after confirming your breakup. There’s no way you’re missing Chanyeol’s smile that is starting to inch in. He never really liked YBN. Now that you’ve broken up with the guy, you can already hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice when he delivers his much anticipated I told you so because this time, he’s right. You grumble, exceptionally annoyed, because of how right he is.

“Anywaaaay, back to why I need protecting… You’re right. He nearly hit me.”

And you wonder why Chanyeol’s pretty slow on the uptake this morning. He takes two seconds.

“What!?” Finally, his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He takes another second to shake his head from disbelief and then asks again. “He what?!”

This morning, Chanyeol’s a freaking cartoon. His aggravated expression seems out of place, given how much he has been confronting you about your now-ex-boyfriend’s alleged tendency towards violence. He saw it coming. Why is he so surprised? Your eyes roll.

“Relaaaaax. I’m more capable than I look. I started training for–”

“Stop that!” he interrupts, dismissing all humour from the situation. “He hit you?!” And he’s angry, possibly even more furious than your father had been. You certainly don’t remember doing anything that warranted any scolding. But here he is, getting all worked up while you stand your ground with hands in your pockets because you are starting to pick on your nails. Despite your nerves, you try to remain as calm as you could, and you are determined to make him realise that you’re not the enemy here.

“You’re not listening to me, Chanyeol! I said he nearly, and by nearly, I mean he missed. He punched the wall behind my face instead.”

You say it with a convincing smile, but Chanyeol still does not respond. He inhales sharply and looks up the sky, pulling his hair – what he does whenever he could not get his point across.

“But I’m kinda proud of myself, so thanks for asking twice,” you continue, still grinning at him and trying to keep it cool. You’re not about to just watch him blow up. Not now and certainly not here. An angry Chanyeol is not a fun Chanyeol. So you let the silence ensue as you watch him, whose eyes are still closed and is obviously putting in the effort, himself.

He fails.

“Fucking hell. Who hits a woman!?” All of a sudden, he starts to furiously rub his face against his palms until his nose turns pink. “Does he know who he’s messing with? Have you seen how small he stands beside me? I could crush him with–”

“Park Chanyeol!” You yell at him this time, because it is the only way to snap him out of it. “He messed with me. Not you. And I’ll remind you that you’re my dad’s student, not my bodyguard!”

“But I am also your friend!”

That had done it. He yells even louder, causing a dog to bark in the distance. It brings him back to the present, as you notice him consciously steal a side glance at the parking entrance, making sure nobody has come to watch the show.

When he sees that nobody’s there, he grumbles something incoherent. I’m a special friend, it sounded very much like. But he shakes his head again and promptly rephrases that. “Look, I am your good friend, first of all! I can’t believe you just freaking downgraded me!”

That you did. But that’s only because you think he’s getting too involved in this. You’ve let it go.

Why couldn’t he?

“You see, this is why I didn’t get to join your family’s dinner last Friday. Also, this is why I didn’t tell you over the phone! Look at you!”

He does. He realises that his hands are now impulsively clenched into fists at his sides, and his feet, apart, and planted to the ground as if he is preparing for a fight. With you.

“Calm down a little? I had enough testosterone when I told my dad about it last night,” you explain. You’re not about to let yourself get another round of scolding. This morning is all about recovery. “I promise I’m okay and I’ll feel even better when I get to shop for things I like!”

Your false eagerness seems to exasperate him even more. “Again, that’s a waste of money. You’ll surely buy clothes you won’t wear again!”

“How am I supposed to… Give me alternatives then!” you demand. He’s got way too much opinions any way.

But Chanyeol accepts his chance and then he goes, “Hm,” full of scrutiny, as if he has something better in mind. It turns out that he actually does. And by better, he means better by his standards. “How about I teach you how to throw a proper punch?”

“You mean, boxing?”

He nods.

And you think hell no. You eye him suspiciously, peering at him from under his cap that he had just placed on your head. “If this about making me a man, I swear to–”

“Come on, just come on! I’ll make it fun!” His mood seems to shift for good this time. “We can tape his face on the punching bag and you can pretend to be hitting him!”

“Nice try, but that only hurts my hands. It’ll make no difference,” you tell him, even though a part of you considers the idea an entertaining way to get over yourself already.

“It will, I promise. I’ll fund your next shopping spree if I don’t convince you.”

The suggestion gets you thinking even more. It’s not a bad deal, is it? You bite the bullet and Chanyeol sees that he’s got the upper hand. You both smile. “Any more benefits?” you ask. And his response comes as a reflex. “That, and I’ll make sure your punches reach him through me.”

“Park Chanyeol!”

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding!” Chanyeol promises, playfully holding his fists out in front of you. You don’t quite miss that devious smirk. “Or am I?”

💙💙💙

- end -

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenarios #park chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #park chanyeol scenarios #exo fanfiction #kpop scenarios #chanyeol scenario

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nooneimportantandjustignore · 5 years ago

Text

Critical Role?

What happens when Critical Role and AI Dungeon meet? Stuff get weird and confusing really fast.

Note: AI Dungeon is a “Game” that lets you have kind of a D&D solo experience, but the GM is AI. The story will be below

"Hello everybody and welcome to Critical Role, Where a bunch of us nerdy-ass voice actors sit around and play Dungeons and Dragons." Matt Mercer says as the show starts. They look at each other and then back at Mercer who is now looking over his shoulder. You can't help but notice that he has some sort of device strapped to him which you assume is a radio or something similar.

> Travis speaks, "I would like to go get some supplies for Fjord"

You both turn your attention back to the screen where Travis is speaking. He looks very nervous and you can tell he's not used to this kind of situation.

Travis: I would like to go get some supplies for Fjord. Can we do it in person?

> Matt looks confused, "Um, Travis we're live. Can you wait until we finish playing D&D?"

Matt: "What are you talking about? We're live! What are you talking about?" Travis: "Uh, well I was just wondering if we could do it in person. It'd be much easier than sending people to bring stuff from far away.

> Matt just turns to someone else, "Jester what are you doing" he asks Laura

Laura: "Nothing, just getting my mind off things." Travis: "Well I'm going to go talk with Fjord, she wants to come too." Laura: "No!" you say. Travis: "She doesn't want to leave?

> Matt looks confused at what Travis said, "Is Fjord talking to himself?"

You both look at each other and shrug. Travis: "Yeah, but I think we should all go together." Matt Face Palms

> Matt turns the Sam, "What is Nott doing?"

You both turn your attention back to the screen where Matt is still talking. You don't know why, but you feel compelled to ask him.

Matt: "Nott, I think you should stay here and guard the door while everyone goes out there.

> Sam looks at Matt, "Why are you taking control of my character?" looking upset

Sam: "Because I am the best DM ever!" You both shake your head.

Travis: "So you think you're better than me huh?" You both shake your heads again.

> "No one said that Travis" they both say

You both continue to shake your heads.

Travis: "Alright alright, I'll take over, but only because I want to see how good you really are." They both nod and agree.

> The camera crew of Critical Role look fucking confused as all hell

The camera crew of Critical Role looks completely baffled by everything that is happening. This includes you. You can't believe you were so caught up in the game that you didn't pay any attention to them. You try to ignore them though and keep on watching the action unfold on screen.

> Marisha stands up, "Guys, I think were losing focus of the game. Can we please get back on track?" She tells everyone

Marisha continues to stand up, "Ok guys, let's get back on track. Let's not worry about who is in charge or anything else right now. Just concentrate on having fun and enjoying the show." Everyone nods their agreement and start focusing again.

> Matt tells them they in the city of Nicodranas and are on there way to the Lavish Chateau to see Jester's mom

The Mighty Nein enter the Lavish Chateau and see Carlos the bartender cleaning some glasses. Carlor, "Jester, it's good to see you. Does you mother know you were coming?"

> Jester, "No I wanted to surprise her" Laura says as Jester

Carlos: "I should have know. Do you want me to let her know you are her?"

> Jester just shakes her head, "No, that's okay. Is she in her room?" she asks Carlos

Carlos: "She isn't, no." Laura: "Good then she won't be home when we arrive. Well anyway lets get this party started! The first thing I'm going to do is make sure everyone knows how to play a musical instrument." Everyone laughs.

> I keep watching the show confused at what is happening

You watch the show for awhile and realize that you aren't really paying attention to what is actually going on. It seems like every other sentence someone says another one pops into your mind. "Oh he has a sword... Wait did he kill his dad? What happened to his family?"

You begin to wonder if you are even listening to the show anymore. Suddenly you hear a voice from behind you, "Hey! You're not supposed to be here!" You turn around and see Marisha with a dagger in hand. She notices your presence immediately.

> I turn to face her, "HOLY SHIT MARISHA RAY IS IN MY HOUSE!!" I say with excitement, complete ignoring the dagger she has in her hand

Marisha: "What the hell are you doing out here?" You: "I'm trying to find my sister Laura Ray, she was supposed to meet me here!" Marisha: "Where the hell did you come from?!

> "I should be asking you that Marisha, how did you get in my house?" I say

Marisha: "Well I don't remember you being here before..." You: "Yeah well I'm here now, so ask me where I came from then!" Marisha: "Fine, but you better tell me the truth or else I'll cut your throat!"

> "DAAAAMMMMNNNNN!!"

You: "Daaaaaaamnnnn!!!" Marisha looks at you with disgust, "Alright alright alright, calm down. First off I didn't mean any harm by it. Second of all why would I hurt you? You've been helping me out a lot lately."

> "I mean I just watch the show, but I'm happy to know that helps"

"I mean I just watch the show, but I'm happy to know that helps.

Alright fine, but you better help me out if you want to stay here."

You: "Okay, but only because I feel obligated to help a nice lady who's obviously been struggling with money problems."

Marisha: "

> "Wait, why did I say that? I mean I'd be more then happy to help you in anyway I can Marisha."

Marisha: "Because you're an idiot right? Because you think because I'm nice and have money that you can get me to let you stay here?" You: "That's not true, I just feel obligated to help out a person in need.

> I stare at her confused, "I have no idea what is going on anymore, do you?" I ask her

Marisha: "No, but you seem pretty interested in me so maybe we will soon enough." You: "What do you mean?

> "Whoa, not interested in that way or anything. I mean your married to Matt and all. So how can I help?"

Marisha: "Oh, I thought you were into guys too." You: "No, I like girls as well. But thanks for clearing that up." Marisha: "So...what do you want to do?

> Stare blankly, "I think my brain just broke" I say

Marisha: "Well, I guess we could go out sometime." You: "Hey wait a minute! What about Laura?" Marisha: "She said she wanted to see you first, so I figured we should start there." You: "But she's dead!"

> "WAIT WHAT?!? Where did that come from brain?" I look so shocked

Marisha: "It was implied in one of her letters to me. She wrote that she had a crush on you when you first moved in here." You: "WHAT?!

> "I've never even met her, how would she have a crush on me. I'm just a fan of the show."

Marisha: "Well I suppose it makes sense. The guy that played your character died and his girlfriend left him after he died. That's pretty tragic stuff right?" You: "Yeah, but...

> "Okay... When the hell was I on Critical Role, because you think I would remember something important like that." I say

Marisha: "Look, I don't really care about Laura, but I'll tell you this much. If she wants to talk to you, I'll be glad to meet her." You: "Great. Well thanks for the information Marisha.

> "Marisha Laura's your friend how could you say something mean like that about her?" I say somewhat upset

Marisha: "Don't worry about it, I know you meant well. Anyway, I'll see you later tonight." Marisha leave your home and head back the show. As you walk down the stairs, you hear a knock on the door.

> I just sit there completely stunned with what just transpired before me

You sit there completely stunned with what just transpired before you. After a few moments, you slowly open the door. It's Laura who knocks on the door. Laura: "Hi." You: ...

> Thinking to myself, "WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!?"

You: "W-wait, Laura..." Laura: "Why are you sitting there like a dumbfounded idiot? Did I do something wrong?" You: "...no, nothing happened." Laura: "Really? Then why are you acting weird?

> "Um, because you and Marisha have visited me today and I can't understand why?" I look dumbfounded

Laura: "What the heck is wrong with you? Are you jealous?" You: "No, no, I didn't mean anything by it." Laura: "Then what the hell is going on?" You: "I dunno. Just calm down and let me explain."

> "Look how are you even here right now, last I check Critical Role was live. HOW THE HELL DO YOU GET HERE SO FAST?!" I start freaking out

Laura: "I get here early, then I stay at the hotel until late. Then I go to your house. Usually I sleep over there too, but sometimes we hang out somewhere else or just hang out together." You: "Wait, so you're not actually staying at the hotel?"

> "I-I... I just..." My brain blue screens of deaths on me

Laura: "Oh come on, calm down. Look I'm sorry if I offended you." You: "But... But how and why are you here?"

> I walk over to a wall and hit my head against it to see if I am dreaming

You wake up from your dream. You stand in front of a large room filled with people. There is also an old man standing next to you looking very stern and serious. He looks like he has been crying for quite some time, which gives you the impression that he might be dying.

> "Okay, so is this a dream within a dream?" I look around confused

You: (sigh) Okay, so is this a dream within a dream? Because I feel like I've had one before. Old Man: *Sob* No, it isn't my fault! This is all YOUR fault!

> "How is any of this my fault!" I shout back at the old man

Old Man: Oh don't be so angry. It's all your fault. The only reason why I am still alive is because you put me into this coma! You did this to me! You: ...

> Walk over to old man and punch him, "No."

You: "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Old Man: *Sob* Please, please don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. You: "Well okay then, but why am I still here?"

> Go over to the nearest wall and bash my head against it trying to wake up from this nightmare

You: "WHY AM I STILL HERE?" Old Man: "Because you were supposed to kill me. Now stop being such a baby and do it." You: "YOU KILLED ME AND YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR IT!"

> "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON ANYMORE! I JUST WANTED TO WATCH CRITICAL ROLE AND RELAX!!" I YELL

Old Man: "Shut up! Shut up! Don't talk to me like that!" You: "Fine, fine, whatever. I'll do it anyway. What's the point of killing me when I won't die?

> Look for an exit

You turn around and leave the room.

You walk outside and find yourself in a field with several houses surrounding you. The sun is setting behind them. You notice that they all seem to be abandoned buildings, but then again maybe that's what makes them more creepy.

> I pinch myself to wake up from this dream

You: "Pinch me to wake me up from this dream." You: "Alright, alright, I'm awake now. So where am I exactly?

> I'm in front of my computer, which has Critical Role playing, "I must of dozed off" I resume watching

I see the Mighty Nein going onto the Ball Eater to get ready for the party

. You see some people sitting on chairs and tables talking about something or other. Then suddenly a voice comes through the speakers, "Hello everyone, I'm Matti Newell and welcome to the first episode of Critical Role!" You: "Wait...what?

> I emotionally break down

You: "Oh god, I can't take this anymore. This isn't real! I just woke up from a bad dream and now THIS is happening! How can this be?!"

The next scene shows you standing before the group who are dressed in their full battle gear.

> I just stare at them lost for words as to what is happening anymore

You: "What the hell is going on?! Why am I here? Who are these people?" They: "We're your friends. We're the cast of Critical Role.

> "I wish!" I say

You: "I didn't sign up for this!" They: "But we thought you would. Besides, you said you wanted to relax after the long day of work...

> "How did I get here?"

They: "Well, you got into a car accident and ended up in our town. Well, we were wondering if you could help us out by taking care of the crash victims while we went to the party." You: "Wait, WHAT!?"

> "None of this makes any sense. Car Accident? WAIT AM I IN A COMA?!?"

They: "No, no, it was an accident. It's not like you had anything to do with it." You: "WHAT!? What the hell is going on? Are they trying to kill me?

Am I dreaming all this? Please tell me what's going on!

THE END

#critical role #the mighty nein #ai dungeon 2 #randomness #fever dream #Send help #what is even happening #funnystuff #enjoy

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