#Long and dense is insane I can’t wait for that cut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meetmeatthecoda · 4 years ago

Text

Now that I’ve had some time to cry & mourn & actually think about that horrendous excuse for television... I have... some thoughts.

Firstly, the pace of that episode was insane. I mean, the season itself felt like we were slowly & tortuously hacking our way through a tangled rain forest, trying desperately to see the forest for the trees, but instead stuck cutting vines & branches down one by one... until we got to that finale, which felt comparatively like finally cutting away all the dense foliage only to immediately fall off a fucking cliff. You could just tell they were using the least amount of dialogue they could to move through so many weird emotions at fucking breakneck speed. I mean there was... the brief aftermath in Latvia, the 4 second plane ride to re-introduce Red’s illness after how many eps, Liz’s 3 second long recuperation, the awkward attempt at humor with the helium followed by a crash landing into solemnity at Red’s talk with Cooper, the abrupt & unsatisfying discussion with Red & Liz where he makes his rEqUESt, all the different “heartfelt” one-on-ones with Liz’s people, the fucking forced af “romance” with K**nler, the shoe-horned “chance meeting” with Beth Ryker, the most Agnes has ever talked in the history of ever, the weirdly morbid & fucking heartbreaking walk in the park, the choppy restaurant scene, to the unmentionable... end event. It went all over the place, which is very unlike TBL imo, which usually seems to stick to a theme or emotional center for an entire episode, whether blacklister or mythology driven. I think it was painfully clear how poor their planning was (when they have literally no excuse bc they knew this was coming the whole season???) & just how much shit they were trying to squeeze into one episode.

Secondly - & this may seem obvious, but I think it’s worth talking about anyway - Liz should have gotten her answers. And I’m not just saying this as a Lizzington shipper (I mean, mostly I am, but there are other reasons also!) Primarily, I think bc... literally everyone expected them. Not just bc they were advertised (it’s certainly not the first time they’ve delighted in false advertising in promos when it comes to the all-important AnSwErS) but bc THEY MADE SURE EVERYONE KNEW BEFOREHAND THAT IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP. It might have been mildly acceptable to play coy for yet another season finale IF she was coming back in some capacity later to eventually wrap things up, but - given that they fucking slammed the door on that possibility - THEY SHOULD HAVE GIVEN US ANSWERS. I don’t think anyone considered the possibility that they would KILL her & NOT give us answers bc it makes no fucking sense. Additionally, Liz should have gotten her answers simply bc SHE!! DESERVED!! THEM!! They’re literally the thing she’s been fighting for for eight seasons & she fucking died without them? WTF??? But, most importantly to us Lizzington shippers, Liz not getting her answers ruined the park fantasy. I think we all imagined (BC IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP) that Red & Liz would finally talk & Red would give her the answers she wanted. I think we all expected from the (misleading) promo that he would make some sense out of the potentially jumbled memories/visions (?) from 8.21 &, most importantly, there would be SOME KIND OF EMOTIONAL TURNING POINT, SOME CATHARSIS, AN UNDERSTANDING & RENEWED LOVE BETWEEN THEM DRIVEN BY THE AFOREMENTIONED REVELATIONS (& LOVE OF WHATEVER KIND, MIND YOU, WE WEREN’T PICKY, JUST SOMETHING FOUNDED ON RECONCILIATION & PEACE.) But - bc they denied us that - Liz was still in the dark & waiting on answers for the entire ep, unable to forgive or reconnect with her true feelings for Red (whatever you believe them to be) & this made her reaction to Red’s rEqUeSt ring very hollow & detached, the whole park bench conversation stilted & awkward (on Liz’s end) & - THE WORST PART - it made the whole park fantasy feel FALSE. It cheapened it. Like she was just indulging him, letting him walk with her & play with Agnes & enjoy one more day of life before she indifferently killed him. The one thing we expected to get, should have gotten, & THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE NO MATTER WHAT ELSE HAPPENED IN THE FINALE was ruined. With the assisted suicide talk beforehand, the almost begrudging acceptance from Liz, the obvious morbid mindset from Red, the song in the background, the context of it all. It put an awful spin we completely didn’t expect on what should have been our beautiful Lizzington park fantasy. And I think that may be the part that hurts the most - the fact that I can only look at gifs of that scene - bc the music & dialogue & context completely undermine what Liz’s fantasy should have been, that she got for just one afternoon, when she was supposed to be happy & at peace with Red & Agnes.

Thirdly, (anyone still there? lolz) the whole “plot” of this episode was fucking nonsensical. Chiefly - & many other people have pointed this out before now - Red would never ask Liz to kill him. I simply call bullshit. No matter how hard they tried to justify it (& boyyyyy, did they try) Red has never wanted Liz to be a killer, criminal, or have to live a life like him. He has canonically said as much. I could maybe buy the whole “taking over his empire” thing as the seasons progressed, but asking Liz to live with the guilt (however slight or delayed) of killing him, after everything they’ve been through together, after she told him she loves him (seasons ago, but the feelings are still there, albeit buried deep)? And thereby launching her (& by extension Agnes) directly into harm’s way as the “new” Concierge of Crime (?), without him there to guide her from the shadows? No way. Bullshit. Also - & @iwouldlovetoeatyourtoast mentioned this first, I believe - the whole idea of it was stupid anyway bc Liz has spent the entire season chasing him, has repeatedly gotten opportunities to take the big shot, & has always been unable to kill him. It wasn’t even an engaging tWiSt to throw in at the very end bc - even when she agreed to do it - we all knew it wouldn’t happen, also bc Megan was the one leaving & not James. So, it wasn’t a surprise when she broke down at the end & said she couldn’t, so wtf was the point?

Fourthly (almost to the end, god this feels good) & this was a huge tell imo - everyone was OOC. Now you might say that’s the bitterness talking & you might be right... but you fucking try & tell me that 1) Red all of a sudden decides he’s ready for death after how long of not accepting it or mentioning it & absolutely must be killed by Liz & no one else within the next 24-48 hours 2) Liz would willingly go along with that for even a second 3) Dembe wouldn’t try his damnedest to talk Red out of assisted suicide in general & especially coercing Liz into doing it 4) Ressler would be the one to fucking figure it out & hightail it out of bed AFTER BEING ON DEATH’S DOOR WITH A BUSTED LUNG & SEPSIS FFS 5) Wolf Man Van Dyke would even know where to find Liz on a random fucking street corner outside a random fucking restaurant 6) Red wouldn’t see him behind Liz taking aim 7) THERE WOULDN’T BE A DECLARATION OF FEELINGS/LOVE CONFESSION BETWEEN RED & LIZ IN THE 14 MILLION OBVIOUS PLACES THERE COULD HAVE BEEN *PRIMARILY AFTER SHE SAYS “I CAN’T DO IT, I DON’T WANT TO” I MEAN, HELLO????? WTF, WHY WASN’T THERE AN “BC I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU TOO, LIZZIE” LIKE HOW HARD WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN, IT WAS THE PERFECT PLACE, THE LAST CHANCE, & WE FUCKING DESERVED ITTTTTTTTTTT *ahem* & lastly, & most importantly, & I’m definitely going to cry typing this... 8) if you fucking try to tell me that Red would allow himself to be pulled away from Lizzie’s dead body for a second time by Dembe or anyone else (especially when it was only the stupid task force arriving???) without simply crossing the street to load his gun with trembling fingers, pull the trigger, & join her... you’re fucking crazy.

In conclusion, bc this has gone on long enough, this was just... a hasty, sloppy, rushed, unprepared, careless ending on all fronts, no matter how hard they tried to convince us it was totally-100%-on-purpose-of-course-why-do-you-ask? (And I’m not even touching on the Redarina bait bc fuck that shit.) Like, did anyone else feel like when Red was telling Dembe that he was sure & this was what he wanted & really he’s positive so please stop asking, and when he was explaining things to Liz in almost too much detail, and when he was telling Harold this was absolutely necessary... that it was really the writers trying to convince us? It just felt so sudden & forced & heavy-handed & absurdly preventable & at the same time ridiculously unstoppable... I mean, look, whatever drama clearly went on behind the scenes? I think we can all agree that they did a terrible, awful, shit-tastic job on all fronts. And it’s just such a shame that that’s how it ended 💔

74 notes · View notes

thosewickedlovelies · 4 years ago

Text

Be the Girl You Wish to Meet in the Bar Bathroom

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x F!Reader

Summary: You make a new friend in the bar bathroom. She and her friends help you lure in the hottie she spots checking you out ;)

Rating: T for suggestive themes

Tags: Brief mention/implications of alcohol use.

Word Count: 3,359

A/N: This one goes out to all the drunk girls you've ever met and been uplifted by in bar bathrooms <3 Also for @nathan-bateman ❤

---

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” your new friend groans as she lowers herself onto the toilet. “This always happens when my friends make me dance with them.” Still seated, she bends over to rub what she can reach of her heel.

Despite the thumping music and the din of bar conversation in the background, you can hear her perfectly fine, seeing as you’re sealed in the tiny bathroom together. You met her a moment ago in line, after you almost stumbled into her and she immediately proceeded to compliment your dress. Now you’re chatting like longtime pals.

A universal feminine experience, a distant part of your mind thinks, with a fuzzy sense of warmth.

“Yeah but you’re so lucky though,” you tell her earnestly, while washing your hands. “My boys hardly ever dance with me, they’re soo lame.” You make an exaggerated pouty face.

You only ever went out with your boys- Frankie, Will, Benny, and Santiago. You had other friends at work, but weren’t quite at the “let’s go out dancing together” stage with any of them yet. Benny and Santi actually did dance, but while you loved them to pieces, it wasn’t quite the same.

Tonight you had reunited at one of your usual spots- a basement bar that was a bit on the divey side, but just trendy enough to have designated space for a dance floor.

“Oh my gosh, you should totally come dance with me and my friends! Every girl needs a girl friend group to dance with.” She looks at looks at you with wide, serious eyes and all the sage certainty of a perfectly tipsy person.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so nice!” You’re genuinely touched at her invitation. “And so true,” you add a beat later, nodding with conviction. You shift away from the sink as she flushes the toilet.

“Yeah!” The brown-haired woman continues to rave about her friends while she washes her hands. “Ready?”

Arm in arm, you leave the bathroom together. You halt almost immediately, however, as the colored lights of the dance floor change abruptly, blinding you with white strobes. You both shriek and giggle as you throw your hands up in defense. You decide to remain where you are while you try to locate her friends.

She spies something else first. “Oooh, don’t look, but there is an absolute Adonis of a man checking you out right now at one of the tables.”

You don’t look, keeping your intrigue under wraps as you continue to scan the room. “Ooh, what does he look like?”

Santiago Garcia had been keeping an eye on the restrooms waiting for you to return, but his relief at your reappearance turns to curiosity as you exit with a woman he’s never seen before. His interest in her fades quickly, though, as the sweeping lights highlight your grinning face and that close-fitting dress. Everything else seems to fade to his peripheries.

He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s captivated by you tonight. Maybe it’s that you haven’t seen as much of each other lately, everyone busy with work and life. He thought he’d been elated at the prospect of a group get-together this evening, but when he kept finding himself frustrated at the guys stealing your attention from him, he wondered if it was just you he’d been excited to see.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can see every man in a ten-foot radius of you right now doing the same thing he is: checking you out. Sizing you up like nothing more than a trophy to add to their collection, as if any of them were good enough for you.

His fingers tighten around his beer as Santiago drags a dark gaze down you. Thinking of all the memories he has associated with you, all the things he’s seen your body do- a connection none of these other suckers can claim. In his brooding, he doesn’t notice the woman beside you noticing him.

“There they are!” Brown Hair squeals. She drags you around the edge of the dance floor to where several people are waving.

There’s a flurry of introduction, but you don’t catch any of their names over the music. A tall woman with noticeably muscled arms; another with deep brown skin and a halo of dense, tiny, blue-dyed curls; a third whose accented greeting you’re just able to catch as the music fades briefly.

Taking advantage of the quiet, Brown Hair speaks. “All right girls, now listen. There was an obscenely gorgeous man checking out our new friend a second ago, and I bet he still is. A few tables behind us, with the hair?”

With the hair? She and you are facing the dance floor, but her friends are facing the bar’s tables, one of which your future man is apparently sitting at. With outstanding coordination and nonchalance, they all manage to identify him over your shoulders, and whistle their approval.

The one who…?” You strain to hear Arm Muscle’s question, but it’s lost beneath a suddenly surging bassline.

Brown Hair darts a quick glance over shoulder and nods.

“That is some nice hair, and I would know,” the blue-afroed beauty smirks and winks at you, before grabbing your hand and tugging you slightly further onto the dance floor. Still close enough to the edge to be plenty visible to anyone seated at a table. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get you that man.”

“I haven’t even seen him!” You protest with a laugh, even as you follow her willingly.

“Girl, all you need to know is that he is insanely hot.” The one with the accent speaks from close behind you. “As your designated girl friend group for tonight, it’s our duty to help you lure him in.”

Conversation becomes impossible in the rhythm of the crowd. You follow their lead, let their hips and hands guide your movements, losing yourself in the uninhibited joy of moving your body to the thumping music. In the whirl of unself-conscious beings all around you, you momentarily forget what brought you out here in the first place.

Until, after some unknown amount of time, Brown Hair twirls to face you. “He’s on the move!” She waggles her eyebrows.

You remember then that you’re supposed to be dancing for some guy. You’re still facing away from the tables, but from in front of you Blue Hair has a clear view over your shoulder. “Mmm, look at his hunky blond friends,” she purrs. “Think he’ll bring them over too?”

Wait. Surely they couldn’t mean…? There had to be more than one table in here with two hunky blond men at it, right??

She spins you around, and you follow her pointing to where Benny and Santiago are standing at their table, the former clapping the latter on the back. Eyes widening, you’re nearly beside yourself wondering which of your boys the girls could possibly be referring to- until Santiago detaches himself from the group.

“Your man is coming!” Accent squeals.

“Wait, he was the one checking me out?” you hiss frantically.

“Undressing you with his eyes, babe,” Brown Hair nods knowingly. The others make sounds of confirmation.

Pope’s dark eyes pin you as makes his way across the room. He weaves through the tables like they aren’t even there, like you’re the only thing worth his attention. Your lips part in shock.

You’d always thought the vague chemistry between you and Santiago was merely a side effect of his natural sexual charisma. Like a power he could turn on and off at will, you’d seen it in action enough times to recognize it. Although...it had never occurred to you to wonder if the chemistry was not, in fact, a side effect, but rather an intended result. Had Santi been deliberately using his powers on you?

Watching him go, Benny chortles. His gaze slides past Santiago to the other women who are still blatantly eyeing their table. “Looks like you might be DD for just yourself tonight, Catfish.” He smirks devilishly and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on, brother.” Will doesn’t react to his sibling’s invitation as he saunters after Pope, only sipping his beer contemplatively.

Frankie snorts at the older brother’s obvious interest. “Get out of here man, they’re definitely checking you out, too. I’ll hang here for a little while longer.”

Will cracks a smile. Draining his glass, he unfurls himself from the table, bright blue eyes roving appreciatively over the women flanking you.

“You’re the man, Francisco.” The taller blond gives him a nod of thanks before following his brother.

Frankie only shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips as he observes the scene unfolding between you and Pope. Finally.

With the hair, indeed. That should have tipped you off straightaway. You’ve been encouraging Santi to grow out his gorgeous curls for probably as long as you’ve known him, but he rarely took leave for long enough to gain any measurable growth. Even short, however, his greying locks reflect the colors of the roaming spotlights as he approaches, making his beauty even more otherworldly.

Dumb with surprise, you don’t have time to plan any kind of reaction before Santiago is there, standing before you with one upturned hand outstretched. “Can I cut in?”

Cooing, your new friends part to allow him unhindered access to you. Although there’s a suave sort of expectancy on his face- he knows what the girls were doing- even in the dim, shifting light you can see the genuine question in his eyes.

You’re still unsure of what he’s playing at, but Santi has never let you down before. Your hand doesn’t waver as you place it in his.

His fingers curl around yours, warm and reassuring. He tears his gaze from you only to briefly address the girls: “My friends are single, by the way.”

As if on cue, you all become aware of Benny and Will sidling up in Santiago’s wake, like two blond, shameless, bad ideas.

Santi is wearing that big shit-eating grin when he turns back to you, and you can’t help but smile at his familiar antics. Laughing, you let him sweep you away, guiding you toward a more remote corner of the dance floor and into a sway that’s breathtakingly gentler than what you were expecting, given the moves with which you and the girls were taunting him.

(If his hold feels gentle, he makes sure it doesn’t look that way: flexing his arms where they rest around your waist and brushing his nose along your hairline, breathing you in and sending menacing glowers to anyone still looking at you.)

You’ve never been this lost for words around Santiago. You’ve danced with him before, technically; but it had never felt like this. You want to speak, but your tongue feels clumsy in your mouth, heavy with the energy between you. As your thoughts churn, his hold shifts, one arm wrapping all the way around your waist to draw you nearer, the other sliding up your spine, fingertips tracing the skin above the back of your dress.

It may have only been a song or two during which you held each other, but it felt like much longer. His light caress sets the blood fizzing in your veins, sparkling like drink mixers, sweet with the promise of bright memories to come.

Finally he speaks. “Is this okay?” Santi murmurs.

Hearing his warm voice in your ear, instead of making you more nervous, grounds you. That familiar, steady timbre, his quiet confidence and trust in you to answer him truthfully. Which you do, because you trust him, too.

“Very,” you profess into his neck. Your nose nearly tucks beneath the collar of his button-down. “Santi…” you hesitate, knowing you want to ask but unsure of what the question is.

He waits, his subtle swaying never faltering.

“Why tonight?” It’s a vague, possibly lame cop-out of a question, but it’s the only way you can think to phrase it. He’ll understand though. Santi can play the fool when he wants, but he knows you, and now isn’t the time.

For several heartbeats, the only response is the rasp of his stubble against your jaw. You swear you feel his lips brush your skin, but before you can properly register the sensation he’s withdrawing to answer.

“Mmm...Well, I don’t need to tell you what those dance moves of yours do to me.” He pinches your side in emphasis, but despite your squirm and flush, you scoff. Santi has seen you dance like that before- he’s been the one dancing with you like that before.

Santiago chuckles, the sound liquid dark. He knew you wouldn’t buy that. “Honestly, I don’t know. Seeing all these other assholes eyeing you up like they’d have a chance...I couldn’t stop myself. I’m just putting them out of their misery, really.”

You snort at his dismissive shrug, knowing his irreverence masks real emotion. You can read it in the lines of his face, each one as dear and familiar to you as the beauty marks on your own. Green and red lights stripe his skin as you study them.

He can’t quite meet your gaze, suddenly. “What are you staring at,” Santi grumbles, burying his face in your neck again.

You giggle at his gruffness, at his breath huffing on the sensitive skin.

“Just your pretty face, Santi,” you croon. You tighten your arms around his shoulders, deliberately wiggling closer so you’re pressed more firmly against him.

His sharp, surprised inhale juts into your chest. But any response he might have given is lost beneath the sudden blare of trumpets from the speakers.

The familiar melody makes you both pause. You lean back just far enough to meet Santiago’s eye; you know he’s anticipating the same thing you are and you both shout: “Shakira, Shakira!”

You squeal as Santi leaps back from you, grabbing your hands and twirling you in a familiar routine. ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ had become, thanks to Benny, Pope’s song, a claim he always pretended to roll his eyes at when the boys brought it up. But he secretly loved it, and rarely missed a chance to show off why.

Your muscles leap into action as he does just that, dancing you to the Latin beat. You’re breathless with laughter, sweat beading on your hairline.

I don’t, don’t really know what I’m doing, but you seem to have a plan...

The tripping guitar notes swirl around you, but Santiago doesn’t let you stumble. He guides you in time with the pounding percussion, his whole body undulating to the rhythm.

All the attraction, the tension...

His arms cross above your head as Santi spins you so your back is pressed to his chest. He holds you close, hands low on your hips, and you lean back into him, relishing the strength in the muscles shifting against your spine. Warmth radiates from him, all-encompassing. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him.

His face is much closer than you were expecting; a thrill bursts in your chest. Curiosity kindles, however, as you take in his expression. You’re not sure if you recognize it. Happy, but searching- like he’s gauging your reaction, or seeing something he hasn’t before.

You don’t have time to dwell on it, though- the song is approaching Benny’s favorite line. You tip your head as if listening, raising your eyebrows at Santi expectantly.

His eyes widen, sparking with recognition at your signal. You jump away-

Let me see you move like you come from Columbia…

The saxophone trills its long, fluttering note and you whoop in admiration at the sight before you. Santiago loops his hips rapidly, letting them sling him in a circle, his elbows held square at chest level. His lips form an “o” of concentration in a spicy expression that would make anyone else look ridiculous. But Santi’s obvious skill and the self-assured confidence with which he always carries himself only makes the whole thing ridiculously sexy.

Santi’s movements cause his shirt to ride up, exposing a sliver of taut, tan skin. Shamelessly you appreciate the visible, flexing muscles in his arms and thighs. His butt in those jeans.

He is grinning and giddy when he faces you again, one corner of his smile crooking higher as he witnesses your glee. Laughing, Santi pulls you back into his arms.

“How many times have you seen me dance like that, cariño? And every time you have the same reaction.” His voice is breathless in your ear.

You bite your lip at the warmth of his broad hands, at what is definitely the kiss of his mouth on your skin.

“I like your dancing, Santi,” you say simply. His pulse thrums beneath your lips as you slowly skim them up his neck in return.

Into the line of his jaw you admit “...I like when you dance with me.”

Santiago brings one hand up to cradle your head, leaning back slightly to look at you. His brown eyes are full of affection. “I love dancing with you.” Creases fan out from his eyes as he smiles and he is so beautiful it makes your heart squeeze.

The moment hovers, both of you hardly daring to hope. Your gaze skips down to his lips despite your best efforts.

You know he sees it when his grasp tightens, his hold at the nape of your neck becoming more deliberate. His face is merely a breath away.

“Cariño?” he murmurs. You’re surprised to see the faintest trace of uncertainty, the question in his eyes. He’s asking if you’re sure.

One eyebrow quirks the tiniest bit. “Santi?” You are.

The uncertainty vanishes, and you kiss him.

He lets out a soft groan in the back of his throat. He hauls you as close as he possibly can, and you arch into him, trying to get closer.

You plunge your hands into his silvery curls with a sigh of satisfaction. You’ve touched his hair before, but never like this- never used it to hold his face to yours. The damp traces of sweat as you twist your fingers in it only add to the surreal euphoria of it all. The flashing lights leave colored impressions against your closed eyelids; the music is a muffled, fading pulse as your senses fill with him.

The sturdy press of Santiago’s body, the smell of him- lingering cologne and the musk of his earlier exertions. His mouth velvety hot, his tongue curling against your own in a way that makes heat expand low in your belly. Increasing desperation infects both of you as you realize you should have done this ages ago.

Dimly you become aware of raucous cheers coming from somewhere nearby. With a gasp you pull your mouth from Santi’s, chest heaving. His lust-blown eyes clear somewhat as you share a shy grin.

Then he looks up, toward where the Miller brothers and your girls are hooting at you. Benny cackles as Santiago gives them a one-fingered salute. You shrug helplessly at the girls, noticing with delight the way they’ve paired off: Benny with his arms around both Accent and Arm Muscles; next to them, Blue Hair’s beautiful brown skin contrasting with Will’s paler complexion.

Overcome with mischief, you duck your head into Santiago’s neck again. Placing your lips where it curves into his shoulder, you flutter your tongue delicately against the flesh before biting down with purpose, laving and nibbling to leave a mark.

Santi sucks in air and you feel a subtle shudder wrack his body. He is still facing your friends; scandalized oooohs sound from their direction, and you're impishly delighted to have made him react in some visible way.

His grip on your head shifts so that one thumb is pressed beneath your chin, guiding your head back up to look at him. He breathes your name, his expression dangerous- but questioning all the same.

Radiating innocence, you grin in answer. “Wanna get out of here, Santi?”

Relief quickly vanishes beneath the promising gleam in his eyes as he takes your hand.

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #if it sounds like a straight white girl wrote this...i write what i know 🤷🏻‍♀️💀

166 notes · View notes

glitterge1pen · 4 years ago

Text

To Wake Up To A Mailbox Filled With Letters Only From You

Iwaizumi Hajime x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,071

It was driving him insane. The notes, envelopes, and pieces of paper started appearing at his desk on February 1st. They were tucked away in the cubby and made him incredibly nervous. Whoever was doing this to him was going to really, really make him lose it.

It was nice knowing that someone liked him. Even if he didnt know who it was, it was a good feeling. The only downside was that he had to keep this from you and Oikawa for as long as he possibly could. You two were Iwaizumi’s best friends yes of course, but this was too much.

If Oikawa found out he would stop at nothing to figure out who it was, the teasing would be brutal. If you found out? Iwaizumi didn't want you to think that he had feelings for anyone else, even if you werent dating he didn't want to put that idea into your head. Not only that but anytime romance or dating was brought up with you around he got nervous. Even watching Ryan Gosling movies with you was incredibly difficult. The conversation felt like walking on landmines when it came to yours or his love life.

The first day it was a purple foam heart the size of his palm. Covered in stickers, glitter glue, and in the center was a picture of him playing volleyball. It was from the stands, he could tell the photo had been zoomed in, but he was up in the air on the court. There was no message on the note other than some sharpie bubble letters that said “hottie”, he didn't really pay attention to it. He assumed it was Oikawa messing with him like usual. But when Oikawa made no mention of it he knew that it wasn't his friend.

That night at home he tucked the heart into his desk drawer. He lay in bed trying to imagine who would have made such a thing for him. Since it had been in those somehow taunting bubble letters he couldn't decipher it by handwriting. He did think the “hottie” thing was funny though. The list of people who could have left him the silly little message rattled in his mind.

He knew that he wanted it to be you. He wanted you to do something cheesy, cute, and cliche like that for him. For you to like him so much that it wouldn't bother you to do things like that. It would be your nature to give him gifts and say stupid things to him that made him laugh, that made his chest feel warm.

The next day he was surprised to see another note. He managed to slip it into the cover of his notebook without anyone seeing. It took everything in him not to peek at it during that first class. He knew for sure now that it wasn't Oikawa because they had walked to school together that morning.

It was during lunch that Iwaizumi took out the note to look at it. He had went out to grab drinks at the vending machine. Away from the prying eyes of his friends he opened the front of his notebook. This second card was much more traditional in style. Red construction paper, with white frilly lace on the edge, a mostly straight line of glitter glue outlining the heart.

This one had a picture of a bunny and text that read “some bunny loves you” , another picture of him had been doodled on so he had bunny ears and whiskers. This picture was not from volleyball and he couldn't remember where it had been taken. It was a little creepy but he cared more about who was sending these to him.

The following day he was looking forward to going to school. He wanted to see if he got another note. Even if he didnt know who was sending these, it did feel nice to know that someone could be interested in him. He had spent many valentines sharing the fruits of Oikawa's good looks. It was a good feeling to know that he could receive the same type of attention.

He did get a store bought card that day. It had a picture of a bumble bee and it read "bee my valentine and you won't get stung. A piece of candy had been taped inside the card. After that it was a cootie-catcher with all kinds of pick up lines buried in its folds. There were two more hand made cards that were covered in stickers, shiny tape, glitter and gel pen.

It was halfway to Valentine's day now. Iwaizumi woke up on the seventh of February wondering what type of card he would get. None of the other cards he had gotten helped him decipher who was sending these to him. It was once again at lunch that Iwaizumi snuck off to peak at what had been left to him. Today it had been a plain white envelope with a heart sticker sealing it shut.

Iwaizumi was expecting another bad pick up line but was instead met with an actual typed up letter. Whoever had written this actually, genuinely, liked Iwaizumi. He had this dumbfounded swirling feeling in his stomach. One of dread and excitement. Because he knew exactly what the letter was saying. The letter was true to the way he felt about you. And this letter wasnt from him to you. He didn't know who had written this.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had not seen Oikawa and Hanamaki run up behind him.

"What is this?"

Oikawa's voice had a mischievous ring to it and before Iwaizumi can properly respond the envelope had already been taken from him. His fingers ghosted the traces of the paper, trying to grab it back but missing it by inches. Hanamaki put his arms around his shoulders locking him into place. Iwaizumi was more desperate now as he tried hurling insults at Oikawa.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking god"

The look Oikawa had on his face was of pure joy. A smile spread over his face and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Who wrote it! Come on tell me who your new lover is"

Oikawa sung that last part. But now Hanamaki was interested in the letter and upon reading it he had the same reaction.

"I don't know who wrote it"

Hanamaki scoffed.

"What are you kidding?"

Iwaizumi looked at his friend confused. But Oikawa launched into a rapid fire question session with Iwaizumi.

"Wait you're telling me you have been getting these for a whole week now and you didn't say anything to me! Your dearest friend!"

Oikawa feigned injury at this, falling back into Iwaizumi as they walked.

"I didn't want to deal with it, plus I don't know who is writing these and maybe they don't want anyone else to know"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You had been doing your best to not tip off Iwaizumi that it was you leaving him the notes. But you were rather disappointed at his lack of reaction. You didn't expect him to suddenly be walking around like a love sick fool but he appeared no different to you. You still walked home with him and Oikawa, you had eaten lunch a few times since, everything was the same.

It was after school and you were waiting outside the gym for Iwaizumi and Oikawa. On days they had practice you hung around in the library finishing up homework or browsed through the books. The door to the gymnausm swung open, you greeted Hanamaki but were halted by the extra devilish grin he had. You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by his antics.

"What did you do now?"

You ask teasingly.

"Me? I haven't done anything"

He was faking innocence.

"Really?"

You say, raising an eyebrow.

"It's funny though, because, I think thats its you whos been up to no good"

You're taken aback not sure what he's getting at. He drops the sarcasm for a second letting out an exasperated sigh.

"I know about Iwaizumi"

You pull on his arm leading him further away from the gym.

"Did he tell you it was me? Does he know? He hasn't said anything-"

He cuts you off.

"Slow down, that idiot is way too dense to know you like him back"

Hanamaki covers his mouth at that, knowing it wasn't something he was supposed to reveal to you. But you lit up at his words.

"He likes me back? But you said he doesnt know whos writing the notes"

"That's because he liked you before you wrote him that letter...wait did you say notes? There's more than one?"

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. So you explained what you had been doing. The notes for each day. The entire time you spoke Hanamaki had an expression that was somewhere between disbelief and bemusement. You were about to ask Hanamaki about Iwaizumi some more when said boy walked out from the gym.

You let go of Hanamakis wrist, not realizing you had been holding onto him for so long, to wave at your other two friends. They started to approach you but you waved them off.

“Go on ahead I’ll catch up!”

You turn to Hanamaki once again. More serious than before.

“How did you know it was me?”

“You help me out with essays all the time, that letter you wrote him sounds exactly like you”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The next day Iwaizumi was not able to focus. He had received a bouquet of suckers and lollipops. Each adorned with sharpie and a terribly corny phrase like “99% Angel” or “Lover Boy”. Oikawa had of course taken one of these for himself. Saying that Iwaizumi owed him. They were walking home without you today, you said you had needed to help Hanamaki with some homework. But that was exactly what had been bothering Iwaizumi .

The night before when you and his friend had been out in the dusk alone. Your hand on his wrist. You looked flustered, and Iwaizumi could only recall a few other times you had been blushing so intensely. What had you been talking about with him? It was driving him crazy that he didn't know, that you were off with him now.

“Where are the rest of them?”

Oikawa asked, grabbing at Iwaizumi's bag. Iwaizumi pulled out another sucker from his coat pocket but Oikakwa was not satisfied.

“No, the rest of the valentines cards and letters, I wanna see them, you can't hide those from me forever”

Wide eyed Iwaizumi doesn't know what to do or say.

“Those are private property”

But Oikawa knows his friend well, and it was not long before his request was granted. Reluctant and embarrassed Iwaizumi allows Oikawa to shuffle through his desk drawer where he has stashed his paper treasure. Oikawa of course photographs everything. When he reaches for the one valentine with the bunny pun he stops.

“Isn't this photo from that movie night we had a couple months ago?”

“What? No way it was only me, you and…”

His words stayed caught as whispers in his mouth. Oikawa was right. It was hard to tell because the white wall behind Iwaizumi in the photo could have been so many places, but he did remember wearing that shirt. You took that photo. It was you.

“Hey, you know you have to make them a card now right?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You and Hanamaki had been trying to sort out some sort of a plan. You were originally going to confess to Iwaizumi face to face on Valentine's day. But you wanted to do it immediately now. You didn't want to drag anything out or confuse Iwaizumi by not telling him that it was you. There was only one more day until Valentine's day and you couldn't decide if it was worth the wait anymore.

The morning was brisk and a bit cold. You were shedding off your coat, opening your locker you saw an unfamiliar shade of pink. It was a paper heart. Similar to the ones you had made for Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi. You recognized his handwriting. It read;

I feel the same. Meet me after school tomorrow to talk. Can I call it a date if we get food? Check yes or no.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Did I plan this out at all? No. Did I edit this at all? Also no. But this idea was rattling around in my brain and I needed to get it out. Its a little Jem and The Holograms with the whole “omg surprise its me the person you're in love with and also the person who flirts with you a lot and makes you confused” ALSO I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END THIS ONE????? so sorry if its more muddled than usual

#Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq iwaizumi #Iwaizumi fluff #valentines day

65 notes · View notes

greenninjagal-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Let Me Hear You Scream pt2

Ready for more spooky vibes? If you missed the first part you can find it [here!]

Summary: Upon waking up in a forest he doesn't recognize, Roman vs a Bear Trap goes almost exactly how you would think it goes.

Words: 6374

TW: Bear traps, blood, violence,

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Roman has always had an unusually high pain tolerance. He had to, being twin brothers with Remus and all that. The sheer amount of danger the two of them got into as kids delegated that if he was anything less than completely indestructible, he’d be dead the next time Remus started a conversation with “I bet you won’t…”

He remembers that summer when Remus dared him to ride his bike down the concrete stairs, and he remembers how the wheels pitched him forward and his helmet cracked on the sidewalk, his knee skidded on the concrete, and his arm went snap with pain so white hot that Roman actually thought that the whole thing had popped right off his body entirely.

He remembers lying on the ground so shocked that he couldn’t even breathe, much less cry, and he remembers Remus laughing in the background, “I didn’t think you were going to actually do it! Oh shit, Ro? Roman! ROMAN!”

He remembers it so clearly.

“REMUS!” Roman shrieks into the forest, with tears rolling down his cheeks. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU FUCKER!”

His ankle burns. He can’t feel his toes, he can’t feel his ankle, he can’t feel anything, but there’s blood all over his hands and he can’t look down in case he faints.

His hands are trembling as they blindly work over whatever the fuck he stepped on. He can feel the slushie that he last ate, swirling in his stomach, boiling and bubbling until he feels it corroding his back molars. His fingers fumble around the… the metal teeth, oh god he’s going to vomit. His ankle screams in pain when his fingers prod too close to his actual limb. His ears echo with the painful awful SNAP of the jaw mechanism like its seared right into his soul.

“Remus,” He sobs, “I’m going to fucking kill you--”

Because there was a line here; Yeah, Remus dared him into a prank war with one of his stupid “I bet you wont, you prissy goody two shoes…” and Roman poured glitter into Remus’s laundry once, then Remus replaced Roman’s toothpaste with mayo, then Roman put white hair dye in Remus’s shampoo, and Remus swore he would get some type of revenge, even though he loved that look so much that he kept a stupid white streak in his hair. At least Roman thought he did-- He did, right?

Remus wasn’t the type to keep it to himself if he was upset. Neither of them were: Roman had perfected the art of loud sighs and dramatic monologues into a microphone and Remus had set things on fire to make people pay attention.

He didn’t-- wouldn’t--

He wouldn’t drag Roman into the middle of nowhere and make him walk into a bear trap for hair dye that would come out in another few weeks.

((Wouldn’t he?))

Everyone said Remus was insane, through whispered rumors and gossip that dissipated the moment that Roman walked into the room. Roman hadn’t ever seen the insanity himself; he grew up with Remus chasing squirrels in the park and diving into dumpsters for cool treasures and it was normal. Remus had always found humor in strange and weird things and as they had grown up those things had become less real and more abstract and Roman still didn’t think it meant that Remus would do this.

The forest is dense around him, stupid, dark; Roman isn’t sure he could recognize it even if he had a map in front of him, but then again Remus was always the more environmentally aware person of the two of them. He doesn’t know where Remus went the fuck off to either-- he’s brain is fuzzy at everything more than a few seconds ago when he blinked opened his eyes and took one step forward into a metal death trap, but he… he thought Remus had been right beside him, so close that… that…. His head is singing with pain and the backs of his eyes are melting.

“Hey!” A voice calls out and Roman flinches so hard that the metal spikes dig into his ankle and his scream strangles him.

Roman blinks back his tears just in time to see a figure stumble right out the thickets nearby, with the grace of a new born fucking dear. Roman swears in every language he knows and then some he doesn’t as the person scrambles back to their feet and zeroes in on him with an expression that Roman usually associates with the memory of his science teacher right before she demonstrated how to break a frog's ribcage for their dissection.

“No,” Roman says, “No, back off--”

He tries to scoot back and agony shoots up his leg so bright and violent that his vision whites out.

“Don’t move,” the person says, holding up their palms up suddenly to show they were unarmed or something. Roman isn’t sure what that’s supposed to do when he knows that Remus himself has never needed a weapon to be a lunatic. “I’m going to try to help.”

“Do not fucking come near me,” Roman snarls. “Who are you? One of Remus’s fucking little friends--”

“I assure you I don’t know a Remus, but you are in pain and believe I am qualified to help.”

“Fuck off!”

Roman swears that the pain is getting to his head, meddling with his thoughts like alcohol except not fun and Roman would not suggest anyone repeat this experience. The stranger-- Remus’s friend or whatever-- is staring at him with a patient impatience: like his mother waiting for him to finish his story before she runs off to answer a call on her work phone. They’re older than Roman, by a year or two, with sharp cheekbones and back framed glasses of a stereotypical nerd but a height that makes it hard to even imagine anyone looking down on them. Their eyes are colder than ice, and frost wafts off their breath. They’ve got a sweater vest on, with a tie, and converse dotted with glow in the dark paint in the shape of space nebulas.

Between his teary eye lashes Roman thinks that this guy looks incredibly tame for someone who associates with Remus and he fights the urge to vomit.

Is his leg supposed to be feeling cold?

Oh god, was he going to lose his foot? His breath swells up in his lungs, like a balloon pressing against his ribs. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a foot-- He wouldn’t be able to move or leave these woods or get help-- Remus and his psycho friends could easily cut up the rest of his body and let the wolves get him and then at school when someone would ask what happened to that dumbass who used to make dumb jokes on air during the football games, everyone will be like “Who?” and “didn’t Remus used to have an annoying twin? What happened to that guy?” and no one will ever find him because no one would car--

“Please,” The Doctor Who-ever says, in a faux calm tone as Roman nearly swallows his tongue. “I have medical knowledge, and you are clearly in distress.”

Agony races up his leg and Roman whimpers again. He swears he can hear the sound of metal grinding against his ankle bones, biting in deep and forcing the marrow to crack and shatter and explode until it's just a bunch of broken glass-like fragments under his skin. His head feels light and he frantically breathes deeply because he is not going to pass out, he is not going to make it that eas--

He’s cut off by a sudden crashing from behind behind himself: snapping of branches like a wild animal is tearing through them, the crunch of dead leaves steadily getting louder and heavy and deadlier, the swearing that are all tell-tale sounds of Remus crashing directly into someone and both of them eating the dirt as they barrel through the thickets and roll to a stop a few feet away.

Nerdicus jerks back like they were expecting anything less of Remus’s spectacular grand entrance.

Roman bites down on his tongue to stop himself from outright whimpering. Remus, his twin, his mirror image, rolls back to a sitting position like a possessed doll coming to life, untangling his limbs from another crumpled, groaning form that must be some other friend of his, and snapping them back in place because what are limbs to a maniac like him? The setting sun paints him in an eerie light and Roman’s skin itches with equal parts rage and terror at him, for dragging them out there, for putting out bear traps, for doing all this as pay back for a stupid little prank in a prank war he fucking started--

Remus’s laughter is obnoxious as always and Roman tries not to flinch at the sound of it alone, holding back a white wash of fear with just his force of will.

His other friend is another person that Roman hasn’t seen before-- not that he spends a lot of time getting to know the faces of the delinquents that his brother hangs out with. They’ve got on black jeans and a black T-shirt with one of those reversible sequin designs in the shape of a skull. Their blond hair dances in the last dregs of the evening, even as they pull a leaf from their bangs and yanks their dirty yellow beanie back over their head.

“Holy shit!” Remus says, spitting out dirt from his mouth. “Is that a bear trap?”

“Remus!” Roman whimpers with a tight throat. “This isn’t funny!”

“Au contraire! I left you alone for like five seconds and now you’re in a bear trap!” There’s a glint in Remus’s eyes and Roman recognizes it from those times when Remus climbed too high in the trees back at home, when he stared at a growing flame of a match too long, when he reached across the console and yanked on the steering wheel, screaming Roman’s name--

Roman brain pulses to the point where he can feel it knock against his skull and that hurts almost as much as ankle and he swears he sees stars on the backs of his eyelids and he does not want those to be the last stars he ever sees.

Remus swoops towards him and Roman flinches back, nearly screaming when his leg jostles.

“Chill out, Prince Charmless,” his twin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get it off. What’s your range of movement?”

“Do not come any closer to me, you asshole!”

“You can’t get that thing off yourself,” Remus says.

“And whose fault is that?” Roman snaps.

Remus freezes, tilting his head slightly to the side. His rat's nest of hair creates an unearthly silhouette as he looks down at Roman, something straight out his Halloween horror films, and Roman bares his teeth in warning. He’s not thinking about how Remus’s foot can stomp down on his injured, trapped leg, he’s not thinking about how there’s no one around for miles, he’s not thinking about how there’s nothing and no one to stop him from straight out fratricide--

“Why am I suddenly getting the feeling you think I know what the flying fuck is going on here?” Remus asks.

“Don’t you?”

“No!” Remus says, delightedly, happily, cheerfully and his voice makes some distant bird caw. “I thought you snapped and took me to the woods to kill me yourself! This is much more boring now that I know I haven’t managed to break your last shreds of sanity.”

“Why would I--”

“This is ridiculous,” Glasses McGee cuts in sharply, adjusting said glasses with their index finger. “We need to remove your foot from that trap now.” They look at Remus and the other person. “Are either of you knowledgeable about the mechanics of bear traps?”

Remus throws two thumbs up, and Roman remembers vaguely a rant from a year or two ago about unethical bear hunting and steel jaw traps and how animals would step in and then lay there for days suffering as their mangled limb held them captive regardless of them trying to chew it off for freedom and oh god he’s going to be sick--

“Roman,” Remus says somewhere beyond the screaming in his head. “Oh shit.” It sounds like he’s far away and distant, or maybe underwater and Roman is drowning. He can’t seem to breathe anymore, like the teeth biting into his ankles had wrapped around his chest and was slowly crushing him.

People are moving around him, faint voices talking and then suddenly burning blinding white hot pain that shoots all the way up to the back of his eyes.

He screams and bites down only to find there’s something in his mouth-- fibers and the unmistakable taste of wool and Roman nearly gags on it. He blinks back the foggy pain and finds that he’s leaning on Remus and Webster Dick-tionary is pressing a multicolored sweatshirt to his leg delicately with the bear trap fully closed a few feet away, tethered to the ground with a heavy metal chain coated in a red paint that makes Roman’s vision sway all over again. The slushie claws back up his throat and he gags.

There’s someone new standing just behind the nerd: a very pretty person in a pretty skirt and headphones with cat ears on them around his neck. The splash of freckles and the round glasses makes them look a bit younger than the rest of them, but that could also be Roman’s brain twisting things around the moment that they wince in sympathy as the nerd prods part of his ankle.

They’re magnificent, Roman decides with a dizzying certainty. They’re the sun in the middle of this dark and dreadful forest, the stars in the night sky, the lighthouse in the storm guiding Roman back from complete devastation with just those shiny eyes behind cracked lens.

The other person, the one in the black skull shirt, Sid from Toy Story come to life, is standing just behind him and Remus, looking on distastefully from a good distance away. It takes Roman a moment to realize he’s biting down on the guy’s beanie, and gross. He spits it out at the same time as the nerd presses too close to where the trap had caught him.

“Son of a Witch!” He hisses. “A dragon witch, a fucking---”

“Oh, boo,” Remus says. “He’s alive.”

“He was not in any immediate danger of dying,” Space Case says firmly. “And isn’t he your brother?”

“Looks like someone is an only child,” Remus says. The person in black reaches out and snatches back his beanie, his entire face curling into some disgusted expression as they hold the part with Roman’s saliva away from themself.

“Wonderful,” they say in deadpan and stuff the beanie in their back pocket.

Roman blinks, struggling to sit up by himself. He scrubs his face trying to get rid of his tears, and buries that boiling humiliation being the center of attention like this. Of course, he has to be grievously injured for anyone to care about him, for anyone to take a moment to look at him, for anything--

Remus lets him go, stretching up and yawning like nothing about this is weird or strange or scary to him.

Part of Roman is reassured by that. Like, of course Remus isn’t terrified out of his mind; what is there to be scared of when he’s the most terrifying thing in a 100 mile radius? When he handcuffed himself to the doors of the city history museum to protest its demolishment even though the wrecking ball was right there, when he wore a mini skirt to school to protest the dress code even though he’d been beat up for less before, when he marched into the Governor’s office when he was refused a meeting about the rescinding of the pollution standards in the the county and laughed in the face of the armed guards that told him to leave.

Remus had an endless supply of guts and determination and Roman had wished for so long that his reckless bravery could be contained, controlled and banished, but now it kinda felt like Remus slipping a familiar jacket over Roman’s shoulders and telling him to relax.

Google.com-- Roman is seriously running out of names for them-- leans in and tears the new holes in Roman’s jeans further-- Roman grimaces at the thought of having to buy another pair to make up for this, but the nerd expertly uses the excess fabric to tie up his wound with a professional precision.

“Alright, Doc Oct,” Remus says while they work. “What is the diagnosis? Amputation? Do I need a body bag?”

“I just said that he was not in danger of dying,” they say, finishing the knot which only causes Roman to grunt a little bit. “And my name is Logan, if you must know. I am not a full medical doctor by any means, but I believe that he will recover fully; the trap broke skin and there will likely be a nasty amount of bruising deep in the muscle tissue, but he will recover in a few weeks of rest. It will probably be best to keep weight off your foot as much as possible.”

“See, drama queen?” Remus says to Roman, shoving his shoulder. “You’re fine.”

Roman gives him double middle fingers for his trouble and tries not to shake too hard with relief. He stares down at his leg, forcing a steady breath through his lungs and out his nose, and wonders with a dizzying amazement how his leg was not only in one piece but recoverable, after all the pain. He isn’t sure that it’s not just the placebo effect of someone saying that everything’s going to be okay, but he wiggles his toes and swears that the pain only wracks his limb moderately this time.

Even closed, the bear trap looked menacingly at them: Roman’s blood on the jaws that were curled into a ghoulish grin, just waiting for someone to get close enough to open and bite down on. He’s not sure how Remus and the Doctor Doolittle-- Logan-- managed to get it off him.

Logan turns and offers the sweater to the person in the skirt. “Ah, sorry, I’m afraid the blood has…”

Roman sucks in another breath at the sight of it: the bright splotchy blobs of red that bled through the pastel tye dye design that would likely never come out and eternally remain a reminder of how Roman put his foot directly in a bear trap like an idiot-- What would he have done if there was no one around? Died? His own stupidity had ruined such a nice piece of clothing and--

“It’s okay!” The angel says with a somewhat cartoonish voice. Roman blinks in surprise at the sweetness of it, tasting sugar even as the words hold over the air. He swears he can envision their I’s dotted with hearts; a soft and kind tone despite the fact that Roman had ruined their sweater. “I’m much more relieved he’s going to be okay!”

“Let’s not get too excited,” Doctor Doom says, causing Roman to stiffen and Remus to glance back curiously towards them. They’re turned away from the rest of the mismatched, miscellaneous group, looking into the trees with a gaze that makes Roman’s stomach roll over and not in any way that is even remotely good.

“What?”

They glance back at them with an expression something that Roman can only call shifty. Like a snake before it strikes, they’re poised on the balls of their feet, coiled with the power to move at a seconds decision. Untrustable, Undependable, Unkind-- and Roman squares his shoulders just to prove to himself that there isn’t actually a dagger point about to plunge into his back.

The person’s voice is silky smooth, but Roman can’t find it in himself to be jealous when the meaning of the next words hit. “I don’t suppose any of you remember just exactly how we came to be here, do you?”

The woods echo with a strange emptiness, like the trees themselves are holding their breaths. The silence is eerie-- Roman’s never been a forest this quiet. He’s never been anywhere this quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

Logan and the shining, shimmering, lovely vision share a look and the former shrugs, occupying their hands with tying their sweater around their waist.

“It’s fuzzy,” they admit, thoughtfully. “I was leaving my dorm...and then…” They grimace, which is downright awful to witness: Roman doesn't think anyone deserves to look so uncomfortable, and certainly not a beauty like them. “...then I was here.”

Logan makes a sour face like he managed to misplace a decimal twenty seven steps back in his math equations. “I was uncharacteristically late to class, but I seem to have some form of amnesia surrounding the hours since then as well; It was just past two.”

Dr. Facilier-turned-teenager turns to Roman, their eyes asking a question they already know the answer to. And part of Roman wants to snarl at them, tell them to knock it off with the creepy aura and better-than-you-expression, explain to them exactly how they ended up all here together because there’s a logical, causal explanation.

But Remus is already laughing. “Oh come on! We were…. What were we doing again?” Remus freezes for a moment, some of the smile leaving his face. “Ro? Where were we…?”

Remus is dressed in another one of his ripped T-shirts, the Save the Turtles one that he wore to that protest a few months ago and when he volunteered to clean up beaches for the weekend. His sleeves are ripped off to show off the endangered Tiger tattoo on his shoulder up to his neck, and his jeans are the recycled ones that he bought second hand and begged Roman to repair rather than buy a new pair and “give his money to the capitalists that are trying to kill us all”.

In comparison, Roman is wearing his letterman jacket, with his name engraved on it that he got for being the announcer for the football team three years in a row. He’s wearing his announcer uniform too-- his hair is styled and his colors are coordinated to the white and red of their school, but Remus never comes to the football games anymore.

Or well, he’s not allowed to come to the games anymore after he stole the tuba from the band players and charged into the field during the game back in their freshman year.

Still he-- remembers… he thinks he remembers... They were in the car together, Remus needed to go somewhere and Roman had to drop him off and then speed off to the game, right? Remus' feet were up on his dashboard, mud flaking off into his freshly cleaned car, his air fresheners weren’t working, they were fighting over the radio, Remus’s hand reached out, latching on to the wheel and a scream--

“Fuck,” Remus says, rubbing the side of his head like Roman had slapped him. “Did you crash our car out here?”

“Me?” Roman says, incredulously.

“Yeah!” Remus says. “Did you get brain damage in the crash too? Are your brains going to fall out? You were the one driving, dumbass.”

“You grabbed my steering wheel!”

Remus snorts. “What? No, I didn’t?”

“Yes you did!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“I wouldn’t get anything out of--”

“Boys!” Skeletar says, clapping to get their attention. “Less arguing, more answering the question.”

Remus looks at Roman and Roman glares right back because he did not crash the car. Between the two of them Remus was more likely to crash a car-- proven from how he totaled their green Ford Fiesta nine months ago and now even around the pounding headache he can still remember the feeling of surprise as Remus’s sporadic movement jumbled through his own, the yank that caused him to lose control, the-- the--

He doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he knows that then Roman had opened his eyes out here, taken a step forward, and nearly lost his foot to a bear trap.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Logan says. “Even if perhaps you happened to have a car around here, that does not explain how the rest of us came to be here. And likely from the events that you are describing the car is not in functional condition-- although I’m unsure how your persons would have come out of such a thing without a few visible injuries…”

“I didn’t crash the car,” Roman says firmly.

“Oh, like you didn’t step into a bear trap?” Remus asks innocently antagonistically.

“Why are there bear traps out here anyway!” Roman hisses. “Isn’t bear hunting or whatever illeg--”

Roman almost doesn’t hear it: it starts so softly and then it raises in pitch and suddenly it's ringing in the air like cracks in the fragile glass silence. He feels his breath disappear right out of his chest, his body tensing and everyone jerks towards the direction the sound comes from, like they’re expecting to see something out there.

Roman remembers hearing people yell at Remus to get out of the way of the wrecking ball, remembers hearing the teachers snap at him to go change into his gym clothes, remembers the armed guard spitting on Remus’s face, his own shouts turning to something just above an animalistic growl when he told Remus to knock it off, you’re making me look bad.

And still he doesn’t remember hearing anything sound so horrified. So desperate. So despondent.

It is the noise that causes Roman to break out in goosebumps, electricity dancing along his skin causing all of his hairs to raise, and himself to find it suddenly very hard to swallow. Roman is scrambling back before he can remember that his foot should not be moving and he bumps into Logan as he does.

It cuts off short and disappears like someone took a pair of scissors to the sound itself, snipping the scream for help away before it reaches the end.

And Roman doesn’t think anyone is breathing anymore. His heart pounds in his chest, waiting for the rest of it.

The trees cast shadows so deep and dark that not even the moonlight will touch them. Somehow without Roman noticing, the temperature had dropped until the air feels like frostbite licking his exposed skin. Roman doesn’t dare move another inch-- doesn’t like the idea of what might happen if he reminds the rest of the world that time is still passing.

“I…” the person in the skull T-shirt says, in a very low, strangled tone. “I don’t think bears are what's being hunted.”

“No,” Roman says, “No.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna be sick,” the person in the skirt says.

“No!” Roman says, throwing out his arms before his thoughts can catch up. “This is not--”

“We need to leave,” Logan says, face pale. “Now.”

“I think I saw a gate,” Remus said, no hint of his unhinged grin. He thumbs the direction that he and Kaa came from. “I pulled the switch but it didn’t open. I thought about climbing but there are no holds and barbed wire around the top--”

“It’s likely lacking a power source then,” Logan says steadily calm and Roman feels like he’s losing his whole goddamned mind. “Let me take a look at--”

“We are not being hunted right now!” Roman blurts out.

The others stare at him for a solid, endless second and Roman’s stomach threatens to crawl up his throat. He waits for them to agree with him, waits for them to laugh and call it a joke, waits for Remus to tell him he’s so easy to scare, come on Ro, did you really think there was a murderer in these woods? This is grade school level effort!

Roman gets the feeling that he’s going to be waiting a very long time.

“Guys,” Roman says, slightly more wobbly than he means it to, slightly more softer than he means it to, slightly more terrified than he means it to. “We aren’t being hunted for sport, right?”

Because-- Because he’s seen horror movies. And he remembers once how Remus poured a bag of popcorn over his head and said that if they were ever in that situation, he’d leave Roman to rot, maybe even toss him to the killer himself, laugh as Roman screamed and begged and cried.

He doesn’t look at his foot. He doesn’t look at his foot and think about how he can’t run. He doesn't look at his foot and realize that they’re going to leave him behind and no one will ever know what happened to him and no one will care--

Remus is suddenly right in front of him, offering a hand right into Romans face. Roman blinks back the burning tears on his cheeks and looks at the limb with a trembling lip.

“Come on,” Remus says. “You’re a little bitch when you ruin your mascara, Ro.”

And Roman tries to articulate the billions of insults he has in his brain, but all that comes out is a whimper as Remus latches on to his wrist and pulls him to his feet. He stumbles the moment that he tries to put weight on his foot, flickers of pain echoing in his brain although it's not nearly as bad as he was expecting. Remus pulls Roman over his shoulder with his injured leg raised between them and all of his weight on Remus’s shoulders.

“I’m not leaving you behind, dumbass,” Remus says.

((Why wouldn’t he?))

“We need to help them,” the person in the skirt, the good and just and wonderful person in a skirt, says suddenly.

“I don’t think they need our help,” Hans Gruber-minus-the-German-accent says. “In fact, I don’t think they need anything, anymore.”

“How could you say that?!”

“Easily,” they respond, shortly.

The person in the skirt is shaking, Roman realizes. They’re shaking and hugging themself and they look slightly green in the face.

“I came from over there,” they say from behind trembling hands. “I-- I didn’t hear anyone else over there but they must have been there and I-- I can’t--”

“They’re dead,” Dr. Jerkyll says clinically, like a surgeon with a knife. “Us rushing towards that area is only going to get us attacked next. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die, thank you very much.”

“We can’t leave them!” The other argues.

The person in the skull shirt steps towards the other and grabs their upper arm to spin them back to the direction the scream came from. Then with a derisive and terrible sneer, they shove. The cutie in the skirt stumbles forward, nearly face planting on the uneven ground.

“Then you go help them,” they say, with streaks of faint and awful moonlight painting them in a pale halo. They wave back to Logan, Remus and Roman, and Roman feels very much like he doesn’t want to be included in this group all of a sudden. “Don’t drag the rest of us into it.”

“Hey, don’t be a dick!” Roman says, stepping forward and hissing when he places a slight weight on his foot. “What if it were you out there?”

They scoff. “Me? I would never let myself get caught by a psycho murderer in the woods. But if I did, the last thing I would want is my valiant savior to come charging to my rescue and then get slaughtered right beside me like an idiot!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, you slimy snake,” Roman says.

“I bet you will, Hiccup,” they shoot back. “The gate is this way. Try not to step in another bear trap, won’t you?”

“Damn!” Remus says, “You’re a bitch! What’s your opinion on plastic in the sea?”

Roman slaps Remus’s arm and gives him a glare because really? Right now? They’re in the woods, someone just screamed and probably got murdered, they don’t know how to get out, Roman’s injured, and Remus is doing one of his weird flirting attempts.

Great.

The person in the skull shirt at least looks slightly thrown by the question, narrowing their eyes and shaking their head as they turn away as if they can brush off the rest of the group. “The sea turtles are dying.” They say blandly, without a hint of actual emotion. “Oh no. Next time I see one I will give my condolences about it’s mother.”

Remus’s mouth pops open for a retort that Roman knows is going to be bad, but before he can get the words out, there’s a loud sound of cracking branches from behind them. Remus drags Roman back from the area, planting himself in front of Roman like some kind of human shield and Roman wobbles, without anything to put his injured leg on.

“Jesus Christ!” A new voice screams, as they trip over a thicket and fall into the clearing.

They move like a blur; barely more than a shadow with the ungodly amount of black they’re wearing. Roman can make out a pale face, dark bangs and terrified eyes, before the scramble back in the ground leaving… leaving smears of deep red on the ground in front of them. Their flashlight goes flying off to Logan’s feet, but they don’t seem to care as much about that as moving away from whatever is behind them.

The air tastes like metal, like copper, and Roman swears the world sways under him. His heartbeat blares in his ears almost louder than the newcomer’s hysterical sobs.

There’s a thud. And another.

And the trees themselves seem to shake and draw from the shadow that takes form. It peels away from the others, massive, hulking and distorted in all the wrong ways: at some point it must have been human, Roman thinks hysterically. It has two legs and two arms and a torso and a head, but it's elongated towering over even Logan at his ridiculous height. Its skin is covered in soot and dirt, layers upon layers to the point where Roman almost thought that it was wearing some kind of leather armor. It has rubber overalls on, strapped...strapped to its body with metal hooks that catch the thin moonlight peeking out of its bulging bare shoulders in a way that looks…looks self mutilated. The patchy ugly skin is healed around the metal, molded to it, absorbing it. In one hand is a cleaver, cobbled together from various metals with an unfinished touch and dripping scarlet all the way down the handle to its massive hands. Roman thinks that with one hand it could easily crush one of their skulls.

But worse than that, than the blood, than the stench coming from the thing, than the bloodlust that's echoing out of it: worse than all that is the mask welded to its face. A pale white skin that nearly glows in the darkness, framed with jagged sharp edges of bladed teeth in a terror inducing smile. Soulless orbs exist where eyes might have once been: now there are empty voids without a human behind them.

In a slow, almost robotic motion, it raises the cleaver in its hand. Blood rolls down the handle onto it’s hand and Roman watches the bulb of red drip down into the grass right between the newcomer’s sneakers.

Oh, Roman thinks suddenly very clearly without any room for a single doubt, This is what death looks like.

“NO!” The person in the skirt screams and suddenly they shove forward and throw themselves in front of the swing of the cleaver. Roman isn’t sure who screams louder at that: him, the person in the skirt, or the person on the ground bleeding out.

His brain is on fire, every atom in him is screaming so loud that he can’t hear his thoughts. His own breath flees his lungs with abandon that Roman’s brain somehow hadn’t gotten because instead of running away he’s running towards the monster. His blood boils in his veins and he pushes through Remus with the sort of reckless abandonment of sanity he never would have thought he’d ever make.

His vision locks onto the kid on the ground and his fingers latch on their left shoulder and he hauls them back.

The air next to his ear whistles as the cleaver misses them by centimeters and the person in the skirt screams as they fall to the side, and specks of something wet and warm and sticky flings through the air like its a water fountain; Roman feels it splatter across his face and his brain heart thuds in his chest.

Remus appears on his other side, grabbing Roman’s hostage by their other arm and they both pull them to their feet, ignoring the way they scream in pain. Their torso drips ruby into the dead grass at their feet and Roman-- Roman--

The hulking monster in front of them gives his cleaver a shake and drags it over its own arm to wipe away the blood, like it's nothing more than a hindrance. It turns its entire body towards the person in the skirt, the gorgeous selfless angel of a person that Roman hasn’t gotten the name of-- of someone he isn't going to get the same of because the abomination raises the cleaver again.

Roman screams because he does not want to watch someone die, please he doesn’t want to be in this nightmare anymore, wake up wake up wakeup--

There’s a brilliant white light that explodes at the last second. Roman himself jerks away from it, but that’s nothing compared to the inhuman howl that the creature makes as it stumbles back to the edge of the forest, covering its beady eyes with its massive hands.

Logan flicks the flashlight off and grabs the person in the skirt by their uninjured arm and looks back at them only briefly with an air of finality.

“RUN!” He says.

And Roman does.

#dbd au #sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #Janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #tw: violence #dead by daylight #Roman is incredibly unlucky #I ran out of nicknames #But heyyyy Virgil's alive!#isn't that great guys? :D #I am trying horror for the first time

10 notes · View notes

jamaisvuandyou · 4 years ago

Text

Now or Never

Description: Based on THIS reaction, for Huening Kai. You break up with your ex when he tells you he doesn’t want to have kids, not knowing that you’re already pregnant.

Posted: 01/06/2021

WARNING: idk pregnancy?

Angst: 1,561 words

A/N: Apparently I was on hiatus. Anyway, this happened. so.

You shook your head and shrugged. “I need time alone. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk again.” You walked toward the door.

He caught you before you reached it. “Y/n, are you pregnant?”

You sobbed, unable to hold it in or hide it anymore.

“Y/n...tell me you’re not pregnant,” Huening Kai insisted, being far too dense.

You jerked out of his grasp, crying too much to answer.

“Oh my god,” He muttered. “But...how? We were safe. Oh my god. Tell me you didn’t cheat on me?”

The security guard in the room didn’t even move when you slapped Heuning Kai, and his manager winced but didn’t move to intervene.

“How...dare you,” You warbled out. “How dare you.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed.

And you left. You walked out the door and you walked down the street to the subway. And you cried on the subway, being comforted by a sweet halmeoni who didn’t even ask why you were crying, just if you’d be okay.

You cried as you walked to your apartment.

You cried as your phone rang with text messages and missed calls from someone who didn’t even want the child you were carrying.

You didn’t dare look at your phone until after you had showered, and eaten a well-balanced meal, and had a cup of tea that the doctor had said would help with the morning sickness.

There were about a dozen missed calls from Kai, and about thirty texts from him that you didn’t dare open yet.

But there were also two messages and a missed call from his band members.

Soobin had been the one to try and call you, because you and he talked sometimes about baking. But his text message told you that he was just calling to make sure you made it home safely and that he understood.

You quickly sent a reply to him saying you were home safely and thanking him for checking on you.

Yeonjun’s message simply said to let him know if you needed anything.

You dropped the phone when it started ringing, tears filling your eyes when you saw it was Hyuka again.

You skimmed the texts he had sent, but even if he begged you to come back, you knew that he didn’t want a child so what was the point?

But how were you going to do this alone?

Doing it alone had to be better than doing it with someone who hadn’t wanted that life in the first place.

It had to be.

He had asked you why you hadn’t just come right out and told him.

But the reason was obvious.

He didn’t want a child.

He wasn’t ready for a child.

And when you tried to leave, he said the worst thing he could have to you.

And you weren’t raising a child with someone who immediately accused you of cheating on them when they had been the light of your life.

Are you sure you’re okay? Soobin asked via text.

I don’t know that I’ll know what it’s like to be okay for a long time, Soobin. He keeps calling me. Can you get him to stop calling me? Please?

I’ll go talk to him. It might mean telling him you’re okay and that you’re talking to me?

That’s fine, just...I can’t talk to him right now.

ok, brb.

You washed your dishes while you waited, letting the soap wash away your shakiness until what you had left was anger and disappointment. You’d wanted to think it would turn out better than this, but you also knew that even when you first started dating you had known that long-term...Huening Kai just wasn’t going to work. He didn’t want kids.

And that kept you up at night. That and your tears.

Stupid tears that you wished you didn’t feel the need to shed over a guy who didn’t want to be on the same path as you.

Your child needed better.

Yeonjun texted you the next morning, as you were finishing breakfast. Soobin told me to let you know that Kai has his phone, but shouldn’t be able to unlock it because he changed the password before going to talk to him. Kai doesn’t know that I have your number, or that I’ve messaged you.

Ok. Ty for letting me know.

Did he really ask you if you cheated on him?

Yeah.

Jerk move.

You sighed and dropped onto your couch, grabbing one of your blankets and haphazardly covering yourself. You probably wouldn’t keep your breakfast down, but you wanted to rest today since yesterday had been so stressful

You frowned when Yeonjun called you.

“Hello?”

“We didn’t catch him in time, he’s on his way over. Go down to the coffee shop and get a back table, we’ll meet you there. I’m really sorry, y/n.”

“You don’t think he’ll hurt me...do you?”

“I don’t know what he’ll do right now. But you asked for space and we’re going to make sure you get that. Head to the coffee shop. Beomgyu and Taehyun are going after Kai and will try to get him to go home and we’re going to stay with you until he’s gone then maybe put you in a hotel for a few days. Just until we can guarantee he won’t show up on your doorstep.”

You quickly threw on a sweater and your shoes, grabbing your purse and laptop before rushing out the door. “I can’t...I can’t be with someone who does this.”

“I know. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“No. I’ll meet you at the shop.” You headed out the door, hanging up and wondering just how long you’d have to deal with this insane version of Kai.

You’d never expected him to react like this. Never.

You wanted to attribute it to shock, or a genuine desire to prove he cared.

But the texts he had sent made you extremely uneasy.

It only took Soobin and Yeonjun fifteen minutes to join you, taking the seats that would block anyone else from seeing you. They both had serious looks on their faces.

“I’m really sorry about this, y/n. About him,” Soobin said quietly after the three of you had sat in silence for a while. “It couldn’t have been easy, making the choice you did. And he’s making it harder. I wish we could make it easier for you.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” You tried for a smile, but tears were filling your eyes again.

Yeonjun shook his head slightly. “We booked a hotel room for you. Don’t worry about the expense, order whatever room service you want. We’ve got it covered for you. Okay?”

“Thank you, but--”

“You’re welcome,” Soobin purposefully cut you off, then covered one of your hands with his. “We love Kai, but we love you too, and we can’t support his behavior.”

“When did he start getting so...possessive with you?” Yeonjun asked, looking worried, but also sort of stern.

You shook your head. “Today. Today is the first time he’s done anything crazy.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Okay. Do you want anything?” He asked, gesturing toward the counter.

You shook your head. “Orange juice?” You asked as an afterthought.

He nodded and got up, heading to the counter where their manager was waiting.

Soobin watched him walk away. “He still has my phone, but I’ll text you after I get it back. I’ll ask you about a recipe or something.”

You nodded. “I’ll pay attention.”

Both of you froze when the door opened and loud voices filled the shop.

“Kai, you can’t be here!” Beomgyu said loudly, pulling on Huening kai.

Taehyun quickly got between Kai and you. “Just leave it. Respect her wishes.”

“Please, y/n, please talk to me!”

You shook your head. “There’s nothing left to say.”

“Of course there is!”

“You can’t tell me that you want...the same things as me, so there is nothing left to say. Please...just let me go.”

“But...I love you....”

“But you don’t want this,” You argued, stepping behind Soobin. “So let me go.”

Yeonjun stepped between the two of you. “Kai. Go home.”

“Y/n, please?! I’m sorry!”

“You broke my heart and rejected our child, and all you can say is sorry?” You whispered. “It’s not enough.”

“Get him out,” Soobin told the others. “Take him home.”

Yeonjun came back and pulled you toward the back exit. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Let’s get you both out of here.”

You let yourself be pulled, barely snatching your laptop bag.

He went with you back to your apartment, staying by the door while you packed a bag. And he acted as a body guard all the way to the hotel, until both of you were safe behind the door.

You sat on the bed, everything finally catching up with you. “How did everything get so messed up?”

“I don’t know. But it will all work out.” He crouched in front of you and took your hands. “Okay? It will all work out.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re not alone in this,” He told you. “I promise. You are not alone.”

You breathed in shakily, then leaned forward and into his waiting hug as the tears overwhelmed you once more.

#huening kai #hueningkai #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fic #huening kai x reader #pregnant!reader

98 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 4 years ago

Text

Runaways

↝ After being forced into a wedding, Bakugou whisks you away from having to partake in the ceremony.

BINGO SPACE: Wedding

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: fluff; swearing ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1736

A/N: yes this is a @bnhabookclub bingo piece lol. when i got this prompt for bakugou (thank to the anon who requested bakugou btw) i was originally going to write out a whole wedding ceremony before i thought that would be boring imo lmao. so i decided to go with this concept! imo i don’t really like weddings so you can sort of see that through this fic lol.

credits to @bnhahcs for the beautiful colored bakugou cap!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.23.2020✐

Suffocation. It was like your air was being cut right from you, like you were fighting just to breathe. All you could do was inhale and exhale big deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself, attempting to slow down your racing heart beating against your chest. But it was no use; you still were as overwhelmed as you were since the day started.

“Are you ready?” Yaoyorozu asked, her tone laced with excitement as she was overjoyed for one of her closest friends on her big day.

You mustered up a smile, the corners of your lips quivering as you attempted to seem merry. But Yaoyorozu saw right through you as she frowned at your expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so happy?”

“It’s nothing, I’m good.” A lie; there was nothing exciting about this day for you.

Mina creeped up from the other corner, fully dressed as she was more than ready to head out into the ceremony. “Are you scared about getting married?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s nothing like that.” The girls decided to not pry any further as they did their best to help you get fully dressed as well as help your other friends.

For most people, a wedding is one of the most exciting and exhilarating days that could happen in one’s life. Although each culture does their ceremonies differently, there is still something to celebrate as a couple vows to spend the rest of their lives with one another.

But you had other views on weddings.

You met your husband to be when you were both in high school in U.A. While Bakugou was in the hero course, you were in the support course and your paths would cross as each respective course would often mingle with one another. The minute you laid eyes on Bakugou, you were immediately fascinated. His quirk was impressive and you wanted to ask him a million and one questions just to understand how his quirk worked and the repercussions his body faces as a result of overusing his quirk.

With this fascination, you would pester him as you thought you were interested in his quirk until you slowly realized you were actually interested in him. Being as bold as you were, you decided to ask him on a date. You surprised him with your dauntless proposal so he shocked you by agreeing. Even more surprising, Bakugou actually enjoyed your company outside of the classroom and the rest was history as you had been dating ever since.

After graduating from U.A., you both broke off into your respective professions, Bakugou with pursuing professional heroism and you deciding to become an engineer and create support items for heroes. You were both idolized as the perfect duo by the media, your professions working hand in hand perfectly. And six years into your relationship, Bakugou proposed to you which you practically screamed out ‘yes.’

Like a majority of young women in committed relationships, you were ecstatic to be able to spend the rest of your life with the man you loved. But on the other hand, you and Bakugou both had mutual feelings toward wedding ceremonies: they were just a waste of time and money. Something about hosting a grand occasion to show off how in love you were just seemed like overkill and you had no intention of hosting one. You and Bakugou agreed to be registered as a married couple in Japan through the usual paperwork until both of your parents were strictly against this decision.

Your parents and Bakugou’s parents, especially his mother in particular, wanted you to have a traditional wedding. Leading up to the ceremony, you fought with your mother, voicing how you had no interest in partaking in the wedding but it was like you were speaking to a brick wall. Bakugou tried reasoning with Mitsuki as well, at least his version of reasoning, but this resulted in Mitsuki nearly bringing the house down from her rage.

So here you were, forced against your will to be officially married in front of your family and friends.

“Are you all set?” Uraraka asked as she entered the room. She gasped at the sight of you. “You look so beautiful, Y/N!”

You smiled gratefully at her. If there was one thing that came out of this whole thing, it was that you at least got to dress up for once instead of being covered in grease and sweat from slaving away at your day job. “Thanks, Ochako.”

The door opened and your mother entered, making you want to groan internally. “Ladies, please wait outside.”

The girls nodded, waving at you as they expressed their words of encouragement as they left. Your mother’s fake smile lifted from her face the minute you were alone with her. She proceeded towards you, smoothing out a crease in the front of your uchikake. “So you’re still acting like a child about this whole thing?”

You had to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes, not wanting to hear her start complaining about that, too. “You would be acting like a kid, too, if you had to do something you didn’t want to.”

Your mother snickered, grabbing your hand to practically drag you out of the room as the ceremony was about to begin. You froze in your footsteps, coming to a halt. “Could you give me five minutes? I need a breather.”

Your mother sighed, already fed up with your antics and the day had barely begun. “Fine. I’ll be back here in exactly five minutes.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh in relief as she finally left the room. You made your way to the large mirror in the room, frowning at the sight of your perfectly painted face. You readjusted your headdress on your head, poking your cheeks as you dragged your lips upward into a smile. It was so hard to make it seem like you were happy.

As you were about to make your way out the door and join your mother, the window slammed open. You whipped your head towards the source of the sound, confused to see Bakugou casually propped onto the ledge of the windowsill as he was latched onto the outside of the wall.

“Katsuki?!” You exclaimed, rushing over to the window without tripping over your feet. “What’re you doing? You can’t be here!”

Bakugou scoffed. “You think I was gonna let our dumbass folks make us do shit we don’t even wanna do?”

He leaned over, grabbing your arm and hoisting you up on the windowsill. “We’re getting outta here.”

Before you could express your disapproval for this idea, as not only were you going to be carried around in your boyfriend’s arms as he attempted to maneuver around with his quirk keeping you both afloat, your mothers were going to murder you once they realized the bride and the groom had left their own wedding.

“Hold on to me,” he commanded as he dropped down into the air. Your voice was caught in your throat as you gripped your arms around his neck, only his right arm around your back holding you as his left arm blasted you both through the air.

“You’re insane!” You screamed against the wind.

Bakugou smirked as he blasted through building after building. “Not as insane as you are for agreeing to marry me.”

***

The flight you were forced into taking was one you never wanted to experience ever again. Somewhere along the way your headdress had flown away and your perfectly pinned hair had been tousled and became a mess. You nearly puked at the thought of being lifted hundreds of feet in the air with only your fiance’s arm keeping you from falling.

“Y/N, open your eyes,” Bakugou chided.

You shook your head vigorously as your eyes were still screwed shut and your fists held onto Bakugou’s black kimono. “You’re trying to trick me, I know you are!”

“You idiot, we’re not even in the air anymore.”

You opened one eye slowly, peeking as Bakugou had landed atop of a building, both his arms now carrying you. You gasped as you released your grip from Bakugou’s clothes and you settled down onto the ground.

The sight of the sky painted in purple and orange hues as a result of the setting sun was dazzling to see. The buildings from afar were starting to light up, showing how long you and Bakugou had been basically flying through the air, not to mention your wedding was supposed to take place later in the evening.

“It’s so pretty!” You squealed, leaning against the railing of the building’s rooftop.

Bakugou walked beside you, looking out at the sight along with you. “Do you even know where we are?”

You turned to him. “I thought we were at some random place? Didn’t you land at the first building you found?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes playfully. “How are you the smartest woman I know but also the most fucking dense one, too.”

You narrowed your brows at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

Bakugou smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brought your body closer to his. “Think a little harder.”

You turned to face the view once more, your eyes roaming around to find something that could help indicate where you were. Finally you located the arch with your alma mater’s name on it and you gasped. “We’re at U.A.?!”

“It’s about damn time.” Bakugou looked down below him. “A lot of shit went down at this place but at least I met you.”

You grinned, nuzzling your face into his chest as your makeup stained the fabric of his kimono. “You’re so cute, Katsuki.”

“I’m not fucking cute. I wanted to get as far as I could from that fucking place,” Bakugou said, taking back his previous statement as he spoke about the religious center your ceremony was supposed to take place. “I’m not gonna let our old hags tell us how we’re gonna live our lives, especially when we’re finally starting a new one together.”

You nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. “Guess we’re starting out our new life together as runaways?”

Bakugou smirked, looking down at you as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “I don’t give a fuck where we go from here, as long as I’m with you.”

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrininetales @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @entraptas-kid-sister @mirakeul @thatpeachybandgirl @icy-hot @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @mykuronekome @susu-chan @selfship-mishaps @nk-echi @urmomsshousee @shycoffeeparadise @iambashfulperson @ilovepizzaandimhot @sugacookiies

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines

237 notes · View notes

hintofcolor · 4 years ago

Text

If I’m in pain you are gonna feel it (I never got to tell him I loved him and it’s your fault)

Tim yells at Clark because he’s sad and misses his best friend

It was quiet. Cassie and Tim stayed back, while everyone else went up to the house, sitting under the tree that gave shade to fresh turned dirt and concrete slab. The trunk of the tree wide enough that they could sit side by side and still lean back against it.

“Conner Kent,” Cassie read aloud the name on the tombstone, “the fact that that’s the name they went with makes me want to break the ugly thing.”

“Go for it,” Tim responded as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, willing the tears back in. He’s cried enough in front of people. “Maybe he’ll be offended enough that he comes back to tell you how rude it is to vandalize his grave.”

Cassie chuckled, “If anyone would come back from the dead because of a hurt ego, it’d be Kon.” A small, soft smile settled on both of their faces.

They sat in comfortable silence just being in each other’s presence. They were the only two left. It hurt, but at least they had each other. It was nice, comforting, to just see the other. To watch each other’s chest rise and fall, to see their eyes flutter, tired and sad, glazed over with tears, but full of life. The sun turned a warm red and the sky lit up in vibrant colors. It was beautiful. It reminded Tim that Kon would never be able to keep the promise of showing Tim the sunsets in Hawaii

“You wouldn’t believe it man!” Kon beamed, “the sunsets and sunrises are unreal. It’s like they are fake. Like some one, I don’t know, painted them. I don’t know how to describe it.” Kon sat next to Tim on the water tower in smallville. Kon had flown up there, the whole ‘not being able to be himself’ thing weighing heavy. So they sat on the tower and Kon talked and Tim listened. When the sun started to set Tim smiled and made a remark about how beautiful it was and how he doesn’t see sunsets a lot because Gotham and pollution and such. Which in turn, made Kon start gushing about Hawaii. Tim turned to give Kon his full attention, while Kon sat with his arms resting on the barricade, his legs hanging over the edge, and his eyes glued to the sky. “You gotta see it I swear.”

“I believe you.”

“No I’m serious. I want you to see it for yourself. One day I’m going to take you to see a sunset in Hawaii. That’s a promise.”

“I’ve got to head home.” Cassie’s voice breaking through the memories. “It’s been a long day, and it’s almost dark, I don’t want my mom to worry. Will you be okay? You can stay over at my place if you think your family will be to much.”

“Thanks Cass, but I’m okay.” Tim responded. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes settled in place. Like it belonged there. “I don’t think I’m through saying goodbye yet.”

Cassie simply smiled sympathetically. The look of his smile made her nauseous. She hurts too, so bad, but Tim has lost so many people already, she would give anything if she could just take his pain away. Seeing some one she loves in so much pain, knowing she can’t do anything about it, leaves her uneasy. As if she’s in pain for them. She wants to stay a little longer. Sit next to him, holding his hand, or resting her head on his shoulder, something to remind her that he’s still there, to remind him that she’s not going anywhere. She almost caved, sitting back down, staying with him till he was ready to go home. She even thought about going with him then too. Curling up in his too big bed, like how they all used to after a particularly difficult mission, leaving them feeling powerless and hopeless. All settled in one of their bedrooms, which ever was closest, just for the comfort of having other people around. They never talked, they just all silently got ready for bed and claimed a spot wherever was comfortable. However, she needed to get home to her mom, because as much as she loves Tim and wants to stick by his side, she really, really needs a hug from her mom right about now. To have her kiss Cassie’s head and tell her it’s okay, and that the pain just means that she cares.

She flies off, refusing to go up to the old house. To many memories of the four of them are stored in that rickety barn and yellow home. She doesn’t want them tainted by grief.

Tim watches her go. He leans his head back against the tree again. He was about to close his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. He stood, perfectly ready to give whoever it was some privacy with Kon. Until Clark comes into view. An anger Tim didn’t even know he was harboring for the Kryptonian came bubbling to surface. Fast and Hot. He pushed against the tree to stand up right and tall.

“Are you proud yet?” He asked, venom dripping from every word. Clark turned to look at the boy briefly. Tim could see the guilt hanging heavy in his eyes. “He saved the world. Died a hero. That enough to convince you that he isn’t Lex? That he could be more than his DNA?”

“Tim-”

“No. I talk, you listen.” Tim spit. Clark recoiled, but stayed quiet. “You did nothing but push him away for absolutely no valid reason. What makes you think you have a right to stand here and grieve? When you were the one who made his life hell. For years, years Clark, I had to sit and listen as he doubted himself, doubted who he was, whether or not he was good, whether he was his own person. I watched him drive himself insane over his stupid DNA. Because of you, Clark! Because you couldn’t for three seconds consider that maybe, just maybe Kon is his own person. He had a mind, a beating heart, a soul, Clark, and you reduced him to a science experiment. You don’t get to stand here and act like this isn’t exactly what you wanted. Not when that stupid shield drug him down more than you could ever imagine”

“I tried-”

“YOU TRIED!? God Clark you can’t be this dense. The Kon you knew wasn’t even Kon! GOD! He changed everything about himself so that maybe, just maybe you would accept him! He died being a person he didn’t even recognize in the mirror. The clothes, that stupid t shirt and jeans, the hair cut, the glasses, his obviously dialed down personality. I can’t count how many times I listened to the same thing over and over, about how much he hated everything he had become, how didn’t feel like himself, how it was driving him insane. And every time I would tell him that there was nothing wrong with who he used to be and every time, every single time, he would respond with ‘Clark would disagree.’ All you did was change him into another version of you. Your opinion meant so much to him and you hardly even spared him a second thought. You wanna know how I know you didn’t try, because if you spent even five minutes talking to Kon like he was more than a clone bred to fight, you would know how much he hated Smallville. LOOK WHERE WE ARE STANDING! He couldn’t wait to get out of this place, and because you didn’t want to go through the, what, hassle? Of coming up with a story as to why he would be buried in someplace he liked. Buried in Hawaii? He is the in the one place that him feel even less of a person forever. God, Clark do you know how pathetic that is? How so royally fucked up that is? Do you know how angry he would be if he knew he had to spend eternity here? And yet you have the audacity to stand here and actually mourn him?.”

“I-”

“I’m not done talking. You don’t get to mourn some one you wished wasn’t alive in the first place. We both know the only reason it hurts you so much is because this perfectly crafted ‘knight on a white horse’ person you created just took a hit. God, I wish in everything that some one would knock you off of that damn high horse. I am so sorry your hero complex took a hit. I am so sorry that you have to be the villain for once. That you couldn’t save Kon, whether it was from prime or himself. I am so sorry that you worked so hard to make Kon into Clark 2.0 only to have him die. I am so, so sorry that you regret not getting to know him. But that’s on you and only you. And that guilt you’re feeling, the guilt of not being fast enough. Of not getting there in time. Of letting some one die. Of some one dying thinking that you hate them. I get it. Trust me, I get it. A hundred scenarios running through your mind about how it could have been different, how you could have saved him. How you could have done better. How you should have kept them closer. When you are laying there at night, your stomach curled in on itself, your blood ice cold. The hot tears pouring down your face as some cruel reminder that you can’t escape from this. The type of guilt that has you hunched over the toilet, choking on your vomit because you can’t stop sobbing long enough and you’re body won’t let you do both. You don’t panic, you think if I go I deserve it right? You put on the cape and become sloppy and reckless because if you make it out, if you are able to go home and take them off, the pain will set back in. That guilt that is all encompassing, that drags with you all day and all night. Cause no matter what, you can’t wake up. That guilt? I can tell you with a doubt is the worse feeling you will ever feel. And I truly mean it when I say that I hope you choke on it. I hope you scream for help and no one listens. I want you to know what it feels like to be in so much pain while surrounded by people who make a living helping people. I hope people you consider family ignore your suffering. I hope that pain seeps into your skin. I hope the sound of Kon hitting the ground rings in your ears. I hope the sound of his heart stopping replays on repeat.” Tim’s voice breaks, tears are flooding down his face he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t care. He is so angry that nothing else matters. His voice drops to barely a whisper “I wish Kon were here. I wish he could tell you this himself. I wish he could tell you himself how much it hurt to know that you would never love him.”

Tim walked off, up the dirt road that lead to Kent’s long driveway. He paused at the old worn mailbox, before deciding to just keep going. He trekked down the long dirt road, with no clue where he was going. He knew Bruce would come looking eventually. He found himself lying on the cold metal walkway of the old water tower. He just stared up at the stars, like he was waiting for Kon to appear out of the sky. He closed his eyes, tears still streaming down steadily and whispered the same thing over and over again. Maybe if he said it enough Kon would hear it.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

#dc comics #conner kent #(also cassie punches him but at a different time)#tim drake #clark kent is a bad dad #he gets better tho #i just like the angst sometimes #cassie sandsmark #if cassie was still there clark would have been doomed #poor timmy #i hated this #so i had to fix it #so here is a edited version #still not quite what i want #but its defiantly better #i also didnt tag this timkon #i dont know why #so #timkon

30 notes · View notes

sohin-ace · 4 years ago

Text

Rohan - A Day In Paris

Happy birthday to my lovely Giovanna @gio-is-writing . I love you with all my heart. Thank you for barging into my life and stealing my gangster's heart. This one's for you.

You huffed and dropped your heavy luggage in the hotel room you were staying at for your short vacation. You briefly glanced out your window, The Iron Lady greeting you from afar.

No time to spare, you had a busy day ahead of you, and your friend would not let you off the hook if you spent your short rare days in Paris lounging around doing nothing.

You took out your phone and called her, struggling to change from your heels to more comfortable shoes.

"Y/N, hello! How was your trip?" Your friend picked up, instantly greeting you with her unmistakable accent and you swore you could hear her sadism.

"Please let me rest, I beg of yo-"

"Nuh huh, sweetie. I have a big program for you and you will make the most out of your trip. You'll thank me later, trust me." She cut you off and you groaned, sleepy and jet-lagged.

Yes. You had to travel to the marvelous city of Paris for a conference meeting, but of course, you could only expect your best and only local friend to make you tour the entire city in a record-breaking time.

She had planned out for you a extended list of activities, museums, restaurants and places to visit during your voyage. Knowing her, you were impressed and almost suspicious that she didn't try to drag you out with her and forced you to meet 'your future husband' through many blind dates.

Losing yourself through confusing subway stations and vintage architectured streets, you eventually found yourself in your most desired destination.

Obviously, whoever thought of Paris thought about the iconic Pyramid of glass. That was the one place you always dreamt of seeing.

"So... That's the Louvre, huh?" You breathed out, almost in disbelief.

You couldn't possibly pass the occasion of visiting one of the most reknown art gallery in the world.

Looking around the vast plaza, you had expected much more people to crowd the area, but you were pleasantly surprised to only see a few strangers here and there. Good, that was much less anxiety inducing.

Not wanting to wait any longer and too eager to finally discover this magical place, you guided yourself in. The contrast between the loud sunny exterior and the dull and quiet ambiance inside forced you to relax.

Hours had passed by without you even feeling them. You were having much more fun that you'd have ever anticipated, even though visiting a museum all alone was a thought repulsive to most people. You loved every bit of it, walking through the finely decorated corridors, immersing yourself in the eery yet pleasant quietness of the place, learning through the masterpiece's description, imagining the sculptures come to life.

You smiled. You were happy from this simple yet incredible experience. It was crazy how a change of scenery and how art could so easily move you, transporting you into new worlds, new horizons, and make you travel through times and spaces.

"It's like magic, isn't it?"

You gasped and instantly jumped at the sudden deep voice right next to your ear. You looked behind you to glare and maybe insult who ever had just almost given you the biggest heart attack you'd ever have.

"O-Oh my god!" You yelped, already too loud for the place you were in, prompting a few heads to turn your direction. You shamefully toned down, "Y-you scared the shit out of me-..."

"...I apologize, miss," The male's daggered expression looking down at your small frame did not match his polite words and soft tone. "I didn't mean to startle you, but you looked so deep in thoughts and you were blocking the view."

He pointed at the painting behind you and you decided to ignore his left-handed comment, moving a bit to the side and away from the painting. When your breathing finally slowed down to a healthier pace, you took the time to observe his features a little more.

He stood tall in front of you, his frame slim yet sturdy. You were striked by his eyes of emerald and his androgynous facial traits that seemed to soothe you even without contact. His dark green hair was meticulously styled to the side with an intriguing headband adorning his forehead.

You decided to not stare down his body in fear that his expensive-looking clothes revealing his toned abs and lean waist were actually not an illusion from your peripheral vision but his actual look.

Dang it, you thought, he was too hot for you to stay mad at him.

You looked to the side, and mumbled "... Apologies accepted."

"Wow. Took you a long while of staring at me to accept my apologies. Like what you see, maybe?" He quirked an eyebrow, his tone now condescending, which completely contrasted with his earlier princely behavior.

You gasped and clicked your tongue at him, "You-... Are you famous or something? Why are you acting so bratty all of a sudden?" You knew it, your friend had warned you about this type of guy. The type to act all high and stuck up, roaming art galleries and belittling others. More often than not, handsome and wearing sketchbook-filled satchels. "French artists, I swear..."

You saw him lick his lip before scoffing, as if you had offended him. Unbeknownst to you, the man was actually quite amused by you and did not expect this comeback. He had already long forgotten about the painting behind you.

"Oh you're funny. How did you know?" He smirked obnoxiously, stepping up slowly and looming even taller over you. "You should consider yourself privileged to even be looked at by the Great Rohan Kishibe."

You squinted your eyes at his bold ego, but also at the sound of his name. "Rohan Kishibe...? That sounds like a Japanese name. So you're not a snobby French city boy? Disappointing."

He let out a 'tch' of annoyance. How dared you slander his persona? 'Snobby city boy'? 'Disappointing'?

...'French'?!

Rohan huffed and closed his eyes. Oh no, he couldn't let you get to him so easily and give you the satisfaction.

"That's correct, you dense child." He buried his hands in his pants pockets, dismissing the look you gave to his shamelessly visible underwear waistband.

"Oh shut up, you can't be barely older than me." You huffed and blushed, avoiding eye contact with this man getting so deliciously on your nerves.

You wouldn't admit it, but you were quite enjoying this excentric man's company. His manneurisms and the small smirks he showed at your defiance stirred a little something inside you that just made you want to keep him here a little longer and waste his time. He did look like the busy type, after all. Perfect for bothering and messing with.

Oh but you certainly did not expect him to be thinking just the same as you. In any other circumstances, Rohan would have probably lost patience long ago and snapped, not wanting to spend another minute with the likes of you. But for some obscure reason, he wanted to get to you just as much as you did him. Push all your buttons and drive you absolutely wild.

Maybe it was the little grimaces you made at him that he hated to find cute, maybe it was how your small hands mindlessly held the velvet railings protecting the artworks. Perhaps it was your overall form so gracefully holding yourself up, a delicate sight for such a fierce lady. Or maybe it was that little lipsticked wide smile that he wanted to wipe off your face and kiss absolutely senseless.

"Whatever you say... Uh... 'Your Name'."

You swore you felt a vein pop on your flushed forehead. "It's Y/N. Y/N L/N. Get it right next time."

You rolled your eyes at him and whipped your hair out of your face with exaggerated and unnecessary sass. You wanted to giggle but held it back as he stepped forward and uncomfortably close to you.

You thought he wanted to strike you for a moment and froze as he leaned down and poked his index finger to your chest accusatively.

"Listen here, L/N, "He spat your name through gritted teeth and your mind was hazy with the heady scent of his cologne. "Keep that little attitude of yours and I'll pin you to one of these fucking walls next to these paintings. That'll teach you a lesson."

Your face warmed up and your breath hitched shakily at his bold 'threats'.

"Ooh~ woah there, partner. At least take me to dinner first..." You chuckled and pushed gently on his toned chest, trying to conceal how insanely flustered he had made you feel.

"... Fine then. Tonight 8 P.M. Right here, at the entrance of the pyramid."

Rohan straightened up and stepped away from you. The sudden cool air hit your red face and you widened your eyes, only then registering the fact that he had just flirted back.

"Wait... What?!"

"Don't be late."

"Hold on-"

And just like that, the 'Great Rohan Kishibe', as he had comically introduced himself, disappeared from your sight, continuing on his visit as if he hadn't just shamelessly stolen your heart, leaving you both a blushing and a confused mess.

What a smooth bastard. He was actually taking you to dinner.

It would be a fun trip to Paris.

Bonus:

"Girl I can't come with you tonight, I'm sorry." You told your friend on the phone. "I just met a super cute asian boy at the Louvre!"

She gasped and wanted to whine at you. You were leaving her for a cute asian boy? But soon her tone changed to a more suspicious one.

"Wait... A cute asian boy...? At the Louvre...? Does he, perhaps, by all means, coincidentally, maybe, look like a thot, with green eyes and stupid hair?"

"Yeah? How did you know?" You replied without hesitation.

"Oh that's Rohan! Can't believe you found him haha!" She chuckled, barely caring about trashing the poor man left and right, "Tell him I said Hi. Also, have fun, and use protection cause his dumbass won't-"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

#jojo's bizarre adventure #writing #jojo #x reader #reader insert #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part 4 #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #rohan x reader #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe x reader #rohan

88 notes · View notes

dangermousie · 4 years ago

Text

2020 End of Year Post - cdrama edition

This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2020; if I had to make a post about all the cdramas I watched this year, I would still be doing it in three months...

Overall it’s been a fairly decent cdrama year (certainly better than the very lacklustre kdrama year.) It’s no miracle that 2019 was (so many excellent dramas!) but overall pretty solid.

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

44 The Legend of Jing Yan - the worst cdrama I have seen this year, and possibly the worst drama of 2020, period. The hero and heroine were both uncharismatic, incapable of acting and saddled with such shrilly moronic characters, the only suspense was how they haven’t both perished long since from forgetting to breathe. Nor was anyone in the rest of the cast much better; the screenplay was written by a lower mammal and the cinematography was the best a third-rate wedding cinematographer could offer. Stay the HELL away from this one.

43 Unicorn Girl - the only unicorn about this bland yet irritating piece of pap was the fact that I was supposed to believe the leads are hockey players.

42 Autumn Cicada - I like spy stories, Allen Ren, and Republican Era settings. I can tune out Communist propaganda with the best of them. Yet, the propaganda ate the story to such a degree that there was nothing left; pre magic change Pinocchio was less wooden then this narrative.

41 You Complete Me - no you do not.

40 Skate into Love - the only positive thing I can say about this is that at least it’s better than Unicorn Girl, if for no other reason that only one of them is supposed to be a hockey player.

39 Irreplaceable Love - how do you make a story about fake siblings with a mad mother falling for each other boring? I don’t know, ask the makers of this.

38 Eternal Love Rain - I hate to rain on their parade, but these two actors cannot act, have about as much chemistry as a piece of bread, and are trapped in a story perfect for entertaining the mental abilities of the leads of Jin Yan.

37 For Married Doctoress - ummmm, you could do worse I guess. It only made me break out in mild hives. The sadistic ending did make me laugh though.

36 Dance of the Sky Empire - why you get Xu Kai and waste him in this insipid mess of a story is beyond me.

35 Love Designer - it’s inoffensive except to my sense of entertainment. There is nothing wrong with it but oh God is it bland.

34 Love a Lifetime - It felt like a lifetime watching this, but I didn’t love it. The story is incoherent, the actors have no chemistry and it’s all an epic waste of time.

33 Love is Sweet - so sweet it gave me diabetes. I like Luo Yunxi and Bai Lu, but there is literally no plot. I don’t need to sink into a plotless morass to watch pretty people engage in PG-rated make-outs. I am an adult with access to stronger stuff if I am thus inclined, though to be fair they could get x-rated and I still wouldn’t be able to sit through so many episodes of plotlessness for that.

32 Fake Princess - I love Zhao Yi Qin, but the guy needs to pick better projects. The female lead in this one has the voice and personality that can strip paint but the story is also doing nobody any favors.

31 The Changan Youth - I lost my brain checking this out. I had to go and read a dense treatise on medieval coinage or Mayan farming to try to recover it.

30 My Dear Destiny - kinda cheesy fun. It honestly shouldn’t be as low except it really feels like community theater.

29 Handsome Siblings - why is the Nic Tse version so good and this one so bad? True mystery for the ages. Chen Zhe Yuan is the sole reason this isn’t lower, because that kid tries SO HARD to make this drama bearable and almost succeeds. I can’t wait to see him in Sha Po Lang which actually will give him something to do.

28 In a Class of Her Own - see my comment on The Changan Youth. But at least Song Weilong is gorgeous to look at.

27 General’s Lady - inoffensive, pretty and so utterly pointless.

26 The Blooms at Ruyi Pavilion - those two leading actors are a no go to me but at least they considerately acted with each other instead of ruining two dramas for me. It’s very pretty though.

25 Jiu Liu Overlord - it’s a mess and I bailed, but I placed it this high merely due to the fact that Lai Yi finally gets a leading role and he’s sexy as fuck and I am shallow. Whoever styled Bai Lu should never work again except at a circus, however.

24 Cross Fire - not my genre and Luhan will always look too much like my cousin for comfort, but it’s a surprisingly gripping and dark drama. I liked it!

23 God of Lost Fantasy - if you want to watch a mediocre wuxia/xianxia, this is not a bad choice. Probably better than Legend of Fei actually, because at least it doesn’t have an A-list cast to waste and gives us Sheng Yilun himbo and shirtless.

22 Renascence - the insane cuts (it went from 70 eps to 36!!!) made a fairly cheesy story into a total mess. But I had a good time until I finally bailed mainly because of the male lead (Chen Zhe Yuan yet again carrying a not-good 2020 drama on his shoulders; the guy should be nicknamed Atlas) and the insane but in a fun way story. The female lead (both the character and the actress) were not up to par but oh well.

21 Legend of Fei - only this high because objectively there is nothing I disliked it. But there is nothing I liked either. The most uninspired drama on the list. If you could eat cardboard, this is what it would taste like.

20 Ever Night 2 - compared to EN1, it’s a waste of film. On its own merits, it’s not very good (the cast replacements are uniformly inferior and Dylan Wang is so wrong for Ning Que I cannot even put it into words; the script is useless.) But it had some parts I loved so very VERY much (all the shippy stuff was perfection) so I don’t feel too bitter.

19 Castle in the Sky 2 - a lovely if not too complex fairy tale. It is inferior to its prequel because it doesn’t have Zhang Ruo Yun who elevated it, but it’s still a solid bit of fun.

18 The Great Ruler - it’s very high fantasy, very pretty, and surprisingly involving.

17 (tie) Legend of Two Sisters in the Chaos - the secondary couple steals the show but the rest is not too bad if not too involving.

17 Legend of Awakening - a solid bit of fun with a seriously BDSM streak (theme this year apparently - but come on, the lead’s powers only activate when he’s in extreme pain!) It’s a bit generic and the costuming is done by a blind person, not to mention the OTP is a NOTP, but the rest of relationships (romantic and platonic) are wonderful (I live for the found siblings story in this one) and I like most of the characters.

16 Consummation - a rare modern cdrama I liked; a sweet coming of age story (and love story) even if wrapped in a pretty weird virtual reality concept.

15 Oops the King is in Love - this is how you do a low budget, sweet, silly piece of fluff. Our heroine pretends to be a eunuch and crosses paths with a powerless young king and they are adorable, even more so than the drama.

14 Song of Glory - pretty solid, though draggy and I didn’t love the toothpaste filter. But A+ cast, excellent leading couple chemistry, Li Qin being a BAMF and a leading man (Qin Hao) who is actually an adult.

13 And the Winner is love - objectively kind of a mess (and the heroine has the brainpower of a gnat), but the OTP chemistry is excellent and Luo Yunxi fighting and flirting with a fan as finally a leading man is worth the price of admission.

12 Miss S - snazzy and snappy and stylish and whatever else starts with S.

11 Eternal Love of Dream - I don’t know if it would work for you as well if you weren’t a hardcore shipper for this OTP in Three Lives but I was and this was such a darling, wonderful, shippy delight; plus I love this type of high fantasy.

10 (tie) Maiden Holmes - solid and sweet and a wonderful OTP. Proves that functional doesn’t have to mean boring. If you watch one cross-dressing drama this year make it this one.

10 Qin Dynasty Epic - srs bsns history epic. I am not far into it but it’s so good and smart and visually stunning (if you love battles, this one is for you.)

9 Love Lasts Two Minds - I adored this so much more than I should objectively have, but it’s so beautiful (and no I am not just referring to Alan Yu’s face) and the OTP has wonderful chemistry and the story is solid, and the whole trope of her memory being wiped but falling for him all over again while he’s constantly and utterly devoted is a fave; plus he’s in pain and semi-dyng for most of it so sluuuurp (happy ending, don’t worry)

8 To Love - yes, a modern drama is this high! But it involves intensity, tragedy, genuine adults and sexiness that is Lin Gengxin. And there is an actual plot and darkness OMG!

7 Legend of Xiao Chuo - so beautiful, so fun, so full of gorgeousness of Shawn Dou. Plus, Liao is a rare setting for a cdrama and there are a lot of characters and stories I liked a LOT. Less ship content than I wanted but more than I expected.

6 The Romance of Tiger and Rose - so so delightful. I was literally laughing out loud. I have no idea if it will work as well if one isn’t a seasoned watcher of period cdrama/reader of web novels, with bonus for watching/reading Goodbye My Princess, but it was a complete delight for me (and yes, I shipped for real, as well. Best of both worlds.)

5 Twisted Fate of Love - Jin Han gets a leading period drama role! And he’s enjoying it to the hilt, excellent as a smart, twisty bastard who is also charming and so madly in love with heroine. Sun Yi is beautiful and tough and her chemistry with JH is on fire, the story never drags, and it’s so twisty and fun and just awesome.

4 Love In Between - the most underrated drama on this list. It has no big names or big budget, but it’s wuxia that’s clever, driven, tragic, hopeful and so beautifully shot. Three separate (amazing) OTPs, a leading man who is so not typical (a doctor who cannot fight and who never acquires this ability) and who is intense and smart and damaged, a heroine who puts her quest ahead of her emotions, an unhealthy degree of involvement by yours truly. This is a drama Fei should have been.

3 Love and Redemption - such a lovely, addictive, utterly romantic fairy tale. I was obsessed with it for a reason. All the tropes you love and some you didn’t know you did, a star-crossed OTP to the nth power (and a secondary OTP I hardcore love), a twisty yet coherent plot, some insane chemistry and so much whump and hurt/comfort they must have bought blood packets in bulk.

2 Go Ahead - yes, I can’t believe it either. A contemporary slice of life cdrama made it this high on my list. But the way it feels so real, the found family perfection, the characters I love and loathe, the perfect cherry of a wonderful OTP that hits my narrative kinks on top, and just a perfect storm of loveliness all around with this one.

1 The Wolf - is that any surprise to anyone who’s checked out this tumblr for the last couple of months? Tragic, intense and gorgeous; so romantic and angsty and passionate it made me lose my mind (though some of it was gone the moment the camera panned to Darren Wang) - all my favorite tropes and then some; this is a drama that may not be perfect but it is 100% and then beyond perfect for ME.

FAVORITE DRAMA

The Wolf - I have seen objectively better cdramas; even this year. But it has been literal years since I have been this hardcore obsessed, this utterly pleased, this emotionally catered to and devastated at once. A beautiful dark fairy tale that manages to own me despite the storytelling gaps due to censorship, it took me for one of the biggest emotional roller coaster rides of my drama watching career. Visually gorgeous, poetic, intense, and so romantic it took my breath away, this is not just my favorite cdrama of 2020, it’s my favorite drama this year period, and the one cdrama this year to make it into my permanent Top 10 cdramas list.

WORST DRAMA

Legend of Jin Yan - see my write up for it for why as I refuse to waste more time on this stupid mess.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Wolfie, The Wolf - he is such a haunted, tormented, complex, dark mess; loving and violent, severely damaged and with a hidden yearning softness, longing and aloof. And the amount of charisma and sheer masculine sex appeal Darren Wang brings to the role is insane and not something I see much of in a cdrama. Plus, that character arc with its rapid fall and slow painful redemption is A++++

Runner Up: Sifeng, Love and Redemption - has a male lead ever loved more utterly and selflessly, suffered more thoroughly and beautifully, and managed to have such chemistry with both his leading lady and his leading man (that his leading lady temporarily turned into) at once? The answer is no.

Almost made the cut - Feng Xi, Twisted Fate of Love, Han Shuo, The Romance of Tiger and Rose, Qing Ci, Love in Between.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Xiao Qian, The Romance of Tiger and Rose - so funny, so much the reason this drama was such a delight. I adore her beyond words.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Murder Daddy, The Wolf - I am sad the censors robbed us of seeing him die on screen. He was fully human but nonetheless managed to be the worst monster in a drama full of literal ones.

Ling Xiao’s Mom, Go Ahead - I hate her so much I don’t want to look up her name. She abused the kid, the disappeared and came back to abuse him some more. I mean she literally gave her child mental health issues. She is the WORST.

FAVORITE SHIP

Xing’er x Wolfie, The Wolf - are you kidding me? Who else could it ever be for me? They destroyed each other and saved each other, sworn enemies and childhood lovers, soulmates and epic messes, they couldn’t live with or without each other. The longing, the passion, the intensity, the angst, the epicness. LIKE THERE ARE NO WORDS!!!!

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Si Yuan, Shen Manqing, Love in Between - I loved them as much and often more than the main OTP. So much angst and passion and a happy ending! She is a seeming sect darling (except the sect is horrible and also sexist so her only worth is as a marriage candidate) and he’s an information broker who is actually one of the members of a destroyed sect that’s blamed for the massacre of her family. That chemistry and yearning is insane. The scene where she touches his face when he’s unconscious was in serious running for my favorite scene of 2020.

NOTP

Legend of Awakening - I have never seen a couple that didn’t just have no chemistry but exhibited actual revulsion towards each other before watching Chen Feiyu and Cheng Xiao try to act as lovers in this one. It was almost entertaining to be honest.

FAVORITE SCENE

It’s a tie and both are from The Wolf. One is a sequence where Wolfie marches to the walls alone, seeking death at Xing’er’s hands and the whole sequence with the battle and rescue follows. The other is the intercut between Xing’er going to her wedding and Wolfie going to his execution, and the auto-da-fe being intercut with her wedding.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Wolfie, The Wolf - Ummm have you seen this tumblr lately, it’s basically a drool shrine to the man.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Yelü Yansage, The Legend of Xiao Chuo - I have loved this actor since The Myth and he continued to competently steal every scene he was in.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

To Love - come out of the coma, dammit!!!!!!!

NEEDS A DIRECTOR’S CUT

The Wolf - duh. It started out as 59 eps and got cut to 49. I reaiize some stuff is never gonna get put in due to censorship, but some of the stuff that got cut got for time reasons because they were deluded and hoping to get a TV broadcast so ep count had to be under 50. I mean I doubt the censors would care if they kept scenes of Wolfie building her a swing or whatever. I really really want a director’s cut the way Goodbye My Princess did even if like with GMP it’s only three extra eps. Hell, I will take extra three minutes, as long as those three minutes are Darren Wang shirtless or with a sword. Ahem.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

The Song of Glory - it’s a fairly solid drama but honestly it didn’t need to be as long as it was and kind of got draggy and I got lost interest. (I could have gotten snarky and said all the dramas I didn’t like needed scissors taken to them in their entirety but decided to play nice.)

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

There are a number of dramas I could complain about with regard to this (hi there, darling The Wolf!) but this award goes to Renascence - poor Renascence was never going to be a masterpiece, but it had the potential to be a bit of good cheesy fun until it had its run time cut by more than half and became an incoherent piece of insanity.

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Dumb shrill innocent heroine who can’t tie her shoes - see basically all the cdramas I didn’t like this year.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Male lead torture - I mean it’s always open season on that in cdramas, but between Love and Redemption, The Wolf, Love Lasts Two Minds, Love in Between and so on, it was a banner year!

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Legend of Fei - what a waste of that cast; what a waste of our finite time on this Earth. What a waste of my intelligence to hope for something better and stick with it for a dozen eps. I have had stale wonderbread that had more personality than this drama.There is absolutely nothing that stands out about this drama in any way, from half-dimensional characters, to actors who are sleepwalking, to a plot that moves at the speed of an arthritic snail, to uninspired cinematography and direction, to lack of any chemistry between anyone in the cast. If paint-by-numbers was done by a group of particularly linear robots, it might come across the same way as this drama.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

The Wolf - honestly, I did not expect it to come out AT ALL EVER let alone to become my favorite drama of 2020. I was not familiar with the leading man (hahah), I liked Li Qin but wasn’t yet obsessed with her, and Xiao Zhan was excellent in The Untamed but I was hardly going to follow him from drama to drama (and I don’t do SLS any way.) And the trailer was enjoyable but unlike seemingly everyone, I didn’t think it was going to be some epic masterpiece. And then it came out and while it wasn’t objectively an epic masterpiece, it pulled out all the favorite tropes, shippy and narrative kinks from the deepest darkest recesses of my id. And I fell harder than I have in years.

2020 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

None. Covid Year gave me PLENTY of time

BEST NON-2020 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2020

Novoland Eagle Flag and Joy of Life - they are in my Top 10 dramas from anywhere now. They are quite different except being smart and giving me protagonists to obsess over.

ETA: Also The Untamed because @idlewilds3 pointed out I actually watched it in 2020 even though I didn’t think so because this hellyear has lasted about three decades.

MOST ANTICIPATED IN 2021

I am gonna limit it to dozen and leaving out ones that aren’t necesarily supposed to air next year (Joy of Life 2, Love in Flames of War, Novoland Princess from Plateau.)

Monarch Industry, Novoland Pearl Eclipse, Silk Washing Stream, Dream of Changan, Sword Snow Stride, Wu Xing Shi Jia, Ancient Love Poetry, Immortality, The Long Ballad, Mirror Twin Cities, The Imperial Age, Fall In Love

222 notes · View notes

sweaterstained · 3 years ago

Note

“ i know you’re there. don’t waste my time hiding. “ HI MARTIN HI MARTIN HI MARTIN HI M

@hivebody

Hᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ most people never have to worry about: doors hardly ever seal completely. There's always a small gap between them and the floor letting in the faintest of drafts, or worse. It's small, really. Not much could come in, but most certainly, some worms initially managed to get through that small gap, and thankfully it hadn't been more, not until he stuffed whatever he could find to close it. Stuffed some clothing in to make a makeshift seal, then stacked anything on top. Bags of flour. Heavy books. Cans. Took the mirror off and shoved it against it; the one sideboard that could fit in the frame before the door to keep it closed didn't reach all the way to the floor and so the space between has a wild selection of things piled up high and tugged densely to keep it closed. And even that is just temporary — if she wants, it's only a matter of time until they chew through it. And even if not — how much longer can he keep in this here tomb? Entirely isolated. The internet cut out quickly (and nobody coming to fix this; his neighbors are on a long vacation and that's their luck, now isn't it). The windows aren't an option. He has no way of letting anyone know, what with her having his phone (what does she even want with it except for making sure he can't call anyone?) and who knows how long until either mania or hunger eat away at him. Or more, thirst. He disconnected the sink and tried to seal it off in similar manner, fearing the worms might get in through the piping, which left — not a lot of water, really.

And she's still outside. She's just there, waiting. In front of his inner eye, he can practically see her, just smiling to herself, worms crawling over her, and not doing much except for the occasional knocking and calling out. Would it be better if she tried to tear down the door? Worse? He hasn't slept except for a few minutes of exhaustion every so often, and that's usually interrupted by her calling.

(What's worse then: staying here, driven insane by thirst and the anticipation, or trying to face her?)

He doesn't reply. He wraps the blanket tighter around himself and stares at the door in the dark.

#hivebody #ask tag tba #gODDAMN IT ZICK

4 notes · View notes

kaadhalil · 4 years ago

Text

i can feel you take control (of who i am)

context: @webheadstan and i were talking yesterday and basically i came up with the idea that there is not any birbal x akbar fics. and they kept enabling my bs and now we're here. im so sorry

cw: light swearing, pretentious fuckery, premarital handholding❤️

word count: 1,685

Short. Shorter. Comparative nouns. Mere concepts of measurement. Why would it matter? What is the point of any of this? Time trickles away as Birbal sits in his room, barely lit by a single candle. The breeze is strong tonight, the trees outside his windows shake their leaves, and Birbal feels as though the leaves are mocking him.

He's not doing okay, cut the man some slack.

He rises from his seat once the breeze picks up speed, threatening to snuff his candle. The wind is telling him to go to sleep. He tries to lie down and do just that. But he can't. He twists and turn in his bed, silky sheets tangling like his mind, every memory of the day running through his head over and over again and plaguing his dreams. He wants to sleep but sleep doesn't come. He's anxious. He's restless. He's worried. He's an idiot.

"So you think you're smart?" asked Akbar, his tone friendly, dripping with an emotion Birbal cannot understand. He fiddles his thumbs, watching the emperor intently. They are stood in the far end of the palace hallway, a balcony overlooking the mango groove. They stand silent, watching the sunset, the air is scented saccharine from the mangoes and thick from a tension Birbal cannot seem to understand.

Birbal smiles. Smart. Of course, he's smart. He'll crack the funniest jokes, he'll say the wittiest things just to see the emperor laugh. It's his favourite thing. Akbar laughing. Eyes shining brighter than the diamonds he's wearing, cheeks rosier than the roses that grow in the palace garden, a laughter that sounds like music to his ears, a rhythm so gentle and deep. He loves that he's the reason for that laughter.

("Oi Birbal," calls Kabir, the palace gardener when he catches Birbal sitting all by himself by the rose bushes cradling a duck in his arms. "What the fuck are you doing here, pal?"

Birbal turns. The duck quacks loudly, startling him, and pecks his hand. Birbal drops him in shock. The duck scoffs and slowly waddles away.

"What are you doing with one of the palace ducks? Don't you have like, I don't know, royal duties to do? Oh, my God are you ruining my roses?! Get out!"

"Nothing's wrong with your roses. I'm sorry. I needed somewhere quiet to think," says Birbal, sounding not sorry at all. No, he's busy thinking of other things.

The palace gardener looks down at him like a displeased mother. Birbal wants to disappear.

"Why'd you look so sad, buddy?" Kabir asks, as he begins plucking his roses.

Birbal looks up at the red, red roses in his hand. Some are small, some are big. He's beginning to go insane.

"How do you change things without changing them?" Birbal blurts. He doesn't know why he asked the gardener. If Birbal doesn't know, how would a mere gardener know?

Kabir gives him a look. "Something to do with the emperor?" Birbal doesn't answer. "I don't know what you're saying to be honest with you," says Kabir, twirling a large full bloomed rose in his hand. "But you change things without changing them by changing everything but them."

"Thanks, Kabir. That helped me in no way!" says Birbal, getting up. He shouldn't be wasting his time like this.

Kabir rolls his eyes as he picks a smaller rose and lays it in his basket right next to the bigger one he'd picked before.

"Sometimes, you are so dense, Birbal," he says.)

"Of course, I'm smart, your majesty," says Birbal. He isn't watching the sunset. He's too busy entranced with the single curl that rests near Akbar's ear. He wonders if that curl tickles.

"Well then, aren't you cocky?" chuckles Akbar. "You think you can answer every question ever?"

"No, but I'd love to try. I'm always up for a challenge. Even if it means doing the impossible."

("It's fucking impossible!" exclaims Birbal. "This is bullshit. I'm going to quit my job. It's not worth it!"

"Woah, hey, man. Keep the negativity away from the kitchens. This place is for good vibes and good vibes only. I'll kick you out. I don't care if you're a courtier," says Rahul, the head cook in-charge. Rahul is busy balancing plates and overlooking the dinner prep goes smoothly. The kitchen is hot, everyone is sweaty but Birbal has nowhere else to go. People keep kicking him out.

"I want to give up," whines Birbal, as he rolls one of the laddus in his hand. It's small.

Rahul comes closer to the forlorn courtier who's sitting atop one of the kitchen counters and silently muttering to himself like a madman. "Maybe if you shared your problem I could help you?"

Birbal sighs. Sure, why not? He's now accepted that he isn't as smart as he thought. "How do you change things with thout changing them?" he asks.

Rahul cocks an eyebrow at him. He reaches for the bowl next to Birbal and rolls a laddu. It's big. "You don't. You let things be. If change doesn't want to be forced then change shouldn't be," says Rahul. He yanks Birbal's smaller laddu from his hands and places it on the plate.

And then Rahul places his bigger laddu right next to it.

"What if change really, really needs to happen but it shouldn't?"

"Then it will. Or it already has. And you're just blind, Birbal.")

"Well then," says Akbar. He has a stick of charcoal in his hand. He looks at Birbal, something mischievous brewing beneath his eyes.

Birbal knows almost every emotion behind those honey coloured eyes like it's the back of his hand. Almost.

Emperor Akbar draws a line on one of the pillars next to him. He then turns to Birbal, a cheeky smile playing at his lips. "You see this line? If you're so smart then I want you to shorten it."

Birbal extends his hand to rub it off but Akbar catches it.

Birbal looks down at their hands. His fingers are long and slender compared to the emperor's short and thick ones. It's an imperfect fit. He could obsess over it.

"I want you to shorten it without touching it," says Akbar, his tone teasing. He graces Birbal with a playful smile.

"What?" exclaims Birbal. "That's not possible."

"Oh, so you aren't as smart as I thought?"

"No! I am! I mean..." says Birbal, flushed. "This is kind of ridiculous, your majesty."

"If so then do it. Make that line short. Go on."

Birbal blinks. He doesnt get it. He doesn't know what to do.

"Tell you what. We'll come back tomorrow. If you manage to do it, I'll reward you."

"What's the reward, your majesty?"

Akbar smiles even wider. His eyes shine with an emotion Birbal has grown so familiar to yet he doesn't understand. "Whatever you wish," says Akbar.

("It's so simple, dear Birbal," says Akbar, cupping the side of Birbal's face and gracing him with a fond smile. Birbal has seen that look plenty of times before. It's soft. It's comforting. It's kind. It's the same look he's graced with everytime Birbal lets the emperor win at Snakes & Ladders. It's the same look he's graced with when they feed the ducks together. It's the same look the king gives him in the court daily whenever their eyes meet. "Can't you see?" he asks.

"See what?" Birbal asks, frustrated. Why is everyone around him so cryptic?

"You really are so blind," teases Akbar. "The answer is right before you. It's staring you in the eye. The answer is begging you to notice but you don't."

"Why can't you just tell me the answer instead?"

"I believe you aren't that dense and you don't need things spelled out for you."

"I'm frustrated," pleads Birbal. He's at his wits end.

"So am I. I'm frustrated that you wake up everyday and you choose to be a blind idiot who thinks you could hide things from me."

"What?!"

"Wake up. I'm waiting for you. Always have been."

Birbal blinks awake.)

He stands in the same hallway as yesterday. The pillar with the line. It's a fine sunny afternoon. The breeze is light. The sky is cloudless. The bees are buzzing. There's a thousand butterflies dancing in his ribcage wanting fly away.

It's so easy. It's all he's ever wanted. He's just been too much of an idiot to understand.

To change something that shouldn't be changed you change the everything but that. Be and let it be.

Change isn't forced. It has already happened. It has happened unnoticed, quiet. How dare. Birbal would've liked to have been told when it had happened.

He would've liked to have been told he fell in love.

"Go on," urges Akbar, twirling a rose in his hand. "Do it."

Birbal grips his charcoal stick in his sweaty hand and clumsily reaches for the pillar. And slowly he draws a longer line next to the emperor's.

He feels Akbar's eyes on him. Doesn't understand why that makes him nervous. The charcoal stick breaks right as he finishes. He gripped it too hard.

"Short," says Birbal, facing the emperor. The emperor is a good 3 inches shorter than him. "Your line is now shorter. I didn't touch it."

Akbar smiles. "Very clever, Birbal." Akbar hasn't once looked at the lines. He's intently looking at Birbal. "Ask for your reward."

Birbal glances away. The bees are buzzing and the butterflies are out of control.

"I- I don't know," says Birbal, hesitation at his throat. "Would you like a walk in our rose garden, your majesty?"

"I would like that very much," he says. Akbar reaches over to tuck his rose into Birbal's hair. "I'd love to. I've been waiting for you. Always have been."

"You don't have to wait any longer," says Birbal, slipping his hand into the emperor's and pulling him to the gardens.

Birbal looks down. His fingers are long and slender compared to the emperor's short and thick ones. Akbar's fingers have more rings, they have a gentler grip.

Birbal grips tighter. It's a perfect fit.

#if there isnt any homosexual subtext i will create it #this is a shitpost i want to apologize to everyone especially @ god #idek what to tag this as #desi tag

48 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 5 years ago

Text

Stolen - 4

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Nothing bad as such ;) A/N: HUGS! Just because I miss hugging people. Tags are open: just ask or reblog.

4. The Speed of Pain

… Reader …

Sitting on the bed, you’re completely absorbed by the gorgeous light show outside the window where gazillions of stars are drawn and condensed into a rim brighter than anything you could have imagined – at least compared to the orb the width of your thumb inside. A black hole. The term is familiar but that’s almost the only knowledge you have of the phenomenon, and most astronomers would probably kill to be in your place right now under the guise of “knowing more” or for the sake of “research”.

With a view as mesmerizing as that why would you bother turning when Loki enters and leaves by the whoosh of the door? You don’t.

Minutes drag by until a detail registers in your mind. Did the locks activate? Torn between hope and the nauseating confidence that you’re imagining things now, the few steps to the access panel are further away than ever before. Hands shaking, breath superficial, you reach up to poke the dark screen.

What the -?! It takes all your strength to keep standing as a couple of blue symbols present themselves, each with an obvious option. The reasonable thing would be to expect that it’s a trap and Loki it waiting just on the other side of that door to catch and punish you for trying to leave. On the other hand...maybe luck actually exists.

It’s unreal when the door slides into the wall to reveal a way out. Never has painted metal looked more inviting or as liberating, and you almost admire it for too long, barely slipping out as the gate to freedom begins to close.

The interior of what you since have learned to be a space ship had appeared dismal and claustrophobic when you arrived.

“Freedom.” The shakingly whispered word is all you can muster for now.

Looking around, your minimal knowledge of space travel tells you that you’re in a sort of cargo hold with cabins lining the sides towards a metal staircase leading up to the right at the very end. To the left is...nothing. Well, there’s a sort of ramp slanting up against a wall but even though you instinctively know that’s the real way out you also know it’s usual considering that thing called “space” outside, reducing the options to just two.

“You’re not ‘sposed to be out.”

The warbled, deep voice makes your cheek sting with the memory of pain. It doesn’t take long before the cool metal stops your frantic backpedalling, making Arox-or-whatever-he’s-called grin. Like a hyena just without the sound. The only way is around him.

“See’f you can catch me, then.”

As stupid as he’s repulsive, the man charges headfirst towards you, leaving you just enough time to slip out a piece of song that conjures a dense fog. Judging the distances by the sounds only, you press yourself to the wall just in time to avoid a collision with him – it does sound like he collides heavily with the metal you’d been backed against just a second ago: first a hard smack and a grunt, then a sound like a sack of lour hitting the ground.

Move, c’mon legs! Thankful for the support of the wall, you pass the closed door to your former confines as you aim for the edge of the fog and a clear view. At least there isn’t much to trip over, but you know you have to move fast or the mist will start spreading before dissipating as the magic fades, so your hands slide along the wall, feet gingerly probing the metal grate of the floor for fear there should be an unevenness.

In the haze, the blue lights of a door panel are eerie, ghost-like, and you can’t help but be comforted by the clear view as you access the room despite what you actually see. The layout is identical to yours the place is still less spartan thanks to the pile of leathery, inhumanly big clothing in one corner and the neat array of weapons on the table. What must be guns of the space variety flank some vicious knives with jagged handles and symbols etched into the blade. Tempted to take one, you also realize that they’d be as big as swords for you...not to mention that you have no idea how to fight with a weapon of that kind.

Quickly deciding to move on as the fog is thinning, the next two cabins flanking the staircase are empty which brings you to the one at the very end of this level. This gotta be Loki’s. Already, the little hairs on your body are standing, your feet itching to move away and you have to force yourself to walk up to it. Let him be upstairs. Or something. Blue lights glare accusingly at you, but no one complains as you have a look inside the place. Empty.

A few steps, the brush of a finger, then the door slides shut and you lock it behind you before getting to work. Confident that you don’t have much time, you ignore the muzzled, silk sheets on the bed and the clothes dangling from hanger in an open cabinet. No, it’s the personal trinkets and the row of old-looking books that are of interest to you – at least until you realize you can’t read a single word and the thingamabobs are nothing more than writing tools, pretty drinking glasses, and something akin to a chess set.

“If I were an insane killer alien...where would I hide anything personal?” you mutter as you keep searching, now head deep into his closet.

“Tsk tsk.” The sound makes you freeze with the fingers around a leather belt. “Haven’t we learned our place yet, little pet?”

... Loki ...

Green and black shimmer in the shadows as [Y/N] straightens her back. “Leaving the door to my prison unlocked wasn’t an invitation?”

“A test.” He can’t help chuckling at the sight of muscles working in her shoulders and arms as though she’s wringing her hands.

Her breath trembles. “One designed for me to fail if I did anything.”

From your point of view. Loki, however, has learned much more about the stubborn creature now than during the last fortnight by watching her actions. Unseen at the top of the stairs, the scene between the attempted escapee and [Y/N] played out to reveal more of the nature of the magic in her blood and her tenacity. It had even surprised him when the weapons were left untouched.

“As fun as this has been,” he smiles, “it’s time to return to your own...cell.”

A lesser man, a mortal, would not have seen the leather belt whipping towards his face as she turns around but being a god, Loki catches it in the air even before the air cracks at the force behind the attack of the insolent girl. It stings his skin, but the eyes widening with fear in her face is a balm to soothe the worst of wounds.

“Pray tell: what did you intend to accomplish with that?” He tugs sharply and secures the entirety of the belt, and still she doesn’t answer. “Was it a blunt attempt to prove your strength of spirit even under less than favourable circumstances? A, shall we say, display of force of will?” Stepping close to her, the Jotun slips the leather around her neck – spicy, cold fear fills his nostrils immediately. “Or did you simply not...think?” One wrong word and Loki will cut it short.

Pupils have dilated with fear. The lips caught between her teeth. Still the jaw is set stubbornly as if to prove that regardless of every thought (if any) before the rebellious action has a strong foundation in which to grow. Loki will savour the thrill of breaking her slowly, watching her crumble to be rebuild in his image. Or to die.

“Do as I wish, mortal. Heal the priestess and I may let you go home.”

[Y/N] hesitates, brows furrowing as she tried to determine the odds and figure out where the catch lies. “Liar.”

“So you’d rather let the priestess suffer a slow, painful death than have a chance at freedom?” He can see the protests boiling within her even if she stubbornly refuses to retort. “I suppose we’ll see in a few days’ time.”

87 notes · View notes

nicocoooo · 4 years ago

Text

Obey Me: Part 9: A Ferocious Battle

Disclaimer: I haven't written in a while so I'm terribly sorry if these turn out horribly written or short.

—

Knock, knock.

The gentle knocks suddenly become more aggressive as each second passes by. The anonymous figure spoke up sharply, screaming almost, "OPEN UP BITCHES!" For someone who just happened to go for a small 'visit', they sure are rude. Their raised voice immediately turned into shouting, "GIVE ME MY CHILD, YOU SHITS!"

The voice appeared to be feminine. She muttered 'fuck it' under her breath and blasted the door open, walking in as if she owned the place. Obviously, someone in the castle heard the loud blast and rushed out of their room to see it. Kauffee.

Kauffee scrambled to the main hall and stopped in his tracks once he saw the witch, standing in front of them like it's so sweet. "Wh-Who the fuck?!" He exclaimed. Ah, great. A witch, here in the House of Lamentation. Could it get any worse? Unfortunately, the answer is yes.

The witch walked in and glared at the human, "Kauffee! Oh, how you've grown!" She said with a sweet smile. There's something off about her. She gives off such a rotten aura that it nearly triggers your gag reflexes.

Kauffee was very uncomfortable but he kept a strained smile to be polite, "Oh, hiiii bitch... how you doin', girl? Uhm, so yeah, did you really need to break in? Also, it's Allyson for you, thanks girllll." The tension between the two only added to the dense atmosphere. He had no clue what the witch was talking about. He wasn't terrified, just weirded out.

The witch was sick and tired of having to deal with this troublesome human and snapped at him, "Oh, shut the fuck up and get your brother. Your brother and sister AND you are leaving with ME."

Kauffee made a face towards her, "Yeaahhh, I don't think so," he was somewhat bored by all of this. He was unamused by the witch's attempts to try and take everything away from his father, Daniel. This was so boring, extremely boring. So boring he might fall asleep.

The witch raised a fist, making a desperate attempt to assert her dominance, "Young man, you BETTER grab your older brother and little sister, RIGHT NOW."

Leviathan yawned as he walked into the main hall, "I thought Kauffee only had one sibling..." he said with a pinch of doubt in his tone.

Kauffee shrugged, "I thought so too but I don't even listen to her anymore, she's kinda crazy. Yeah, anyway, I'm not getting him and what sister you talkin' 'bout, girl?"

The witch grew annoyed by Kauffee's artificial ignorance and began screaming... again, "THE SISTER YOUR DAD JUST HAD IS MINE!"

Daniel raised a skeptical brow, "I ain't had no baby, what the fuck?"

Kauffee rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, she's crazy. I really should have stayed upstairs, this isn't worth any of my time."

The witch screamed, "I KNOW YOU HAVE A GIRL SOMEWHERE!"

Daniel yelled in return, "BITCH, NO!"

The witch's lips curled into a irritated frown as she spoke with cold, condescending words, "Then you're pregnant with one because my spells never lie. THAT WOULD BE MY CHILD THEN!" What? What was she on about? Just like Kauffee stated, she's probably insane.

Kauffee had his nonexistent popcorn in his lap, chewing away at his fictional popcorn. Now, things were getting interesting. However, this is only a mere appetizer. Things were just getting started. He knew this heated argument was going to escalate into something even more powerful than just a simple disagreement.

Daniel was still baffled over what he was currently hearing but he decides to move past it, "How in the fuck... MAMMON, I HAVE SOME NEWS!"

Though, Mammon was still in his private, little thinking bubble, he replied, "Huh?" Shortly after, he zones back in after his brain takes a moment to register his surroundings, "What?"

Daniel awkwardly gestured towards his stomach, "Congratulations, my stalker ex used a spell, you got me pregnant, and now this lunatic thinks its belongs to her," he said with a irritated groan.

Mammon had too much to think about and comprehend, his brain still hasn't finished loading so he doesn't understand at all what's happening.

Kauffee nodded, clasping his hands together, "Oh, so I DO have a sister now, that makes much more sense," he was happy for the endearing couple, completely ignoring the fact that there was still a furious witch in the House of Lamentation.

All of a sudden, Daniel became tired and sighed. He muttered, "I hate labor..."

The witch smirked and grabbed Daniel's stomach, "So, it's mine! You don't want it, so its mine!" She seemed way too confident over this wild claim she made.

Daniel slapped her. Hard. He glared at her, "Touch me again and your uterus won't be the only thing I cut out. I'll gut you like a fish," he growled.

Mammon's instincts kicked in, causing him to fully have a grasp on the entire situation. He slipped in between Daniel and the witch (who is also a bitch), grabbing her by the neck, "Touch him again, I DARE you."

Kauffee conveniently pulled a knife out of his stockings, prepared to defend himself. He wasn't messing around. He was ready.

Leviathan blinked, "Was that the thing that kept poking me?"

Daniel glared, crossing his arms, "Fucking bitch."

The witch coughed, managing to sputter out a full sentence, "It's my baby! Sure, we haven't dated in months, but I KNOW IT'S MY BABY!"

Daniel scoffed, "You're infertile and I've had my period 4 times after I left you."

Kauffee shrugged, "I'm not running around here without a knife, and yeah, it was, Levi. How does crazy does she have to be?"

"Let's see how long I have to choke you for until you can't talk such smack anymore," he growled, deepening the pressure of his fingers against her neck. Before he even realized it, he was in his demon form, with small sparks of fire shooting out of his eyes.

The witch glared and coughed, then blasted Mammon with a fire spell. She smiles as she watches Mammon struggling to keep her in submission. She was confident she was going to win, without a doubt. Then, she will get her baby!

Mammon was almost burned to a crisp. He groaned, but, he could not care less. The audacity of this witch made his blood boil. He was filled with rage. He was like a wild tiger, forcefully pinning her to the wall. He was being so rough with his pinning that the wall nearly crumbled. He didn't want to kill her, he was avoiding pushing her into the brink of death. All he wanted was to weaken her. He suffocated her as hard he could.

The witch coughed and grunted, raising a hand. A circle appeared before Mammon was forcibly pushed away by a great wind. She continued to keep her hand in the air as she collapsed on the ground. She burst out in maniacal laughter, "Holy cage!" She shouted while lights emerged from the floor, trapping Mammon in a cage, made of pure holy light. "Filthy creature... you don't get to touch me.. I am stronger than you'll ever be..."

Daniel ran forward and placed his hands on the bars. He flinches and immediately pulled away. The bars seemed to have burned his palms. He yelled out in pain, "Fuck!" He glared at the woman, then stopped at a certain spot on the ground. He dragged his heel against the ground, making a perfect, magical circle of light. He incoherently whispered to himself and summoned a large, Golem creature with red eyes. He was made from his exact environment. The creature unleashed a loud roar which shook the ground.

The witch raised a hand and blasted the large, fearsome Golem with fire. She watches as the flames consume the monster as it ran forward at Danny. She laughed, holding the ashes that belong to the Golem before making her hands collide, mashing them together. She giggles manically as lightning rose from her finger tips, "I am too strong and disciplined, Daniel. You have NEVER taken any other class other than basic meditation. All of your spells are just the basics CHILDREN learn!"

In the midst of panic, Mammon grasped the bars of the cage he was concealed in. That was a rather stupid move to make. Of course, he immediately flinched and let out an agonizing groan. The only thing he could do was helplessly watch the fight. He was terrified. He was worried about his human. What if he gets hurt? He felt so.. so.. stupid! He was incapable of doing anything to save his beloved!

Daniel glared and sighed as he bitch slapped a fireball that was headed towards him, his hand left spotless, "Let him go..." He was so fed up with her bullshit. He wanted to end this, once and for all.

The witch flinches in surprise, her eyes widened. She brushes off her astonishment and forces her hand forward, casting another bolt of lightning upon Danny.

Danny, once again, being the badass father he was, smacked the flash of lightning out of his way. In less than a second, the bolt of lightning fell to the ground and suddenly became a beautiful pile of golden roses... or rather, roses made precisely out of gold.

Danny took a step forward, continuing to glare at the poor excuse of a witch. The witch stepped back and tried to blast him again. But, instead, her blast was... deflected? Wait, her own spell transformed into something else before her very eyes. A river of man eating pirannhas? Hm, no, try a soothing stream that only contained of koi. Oh, another blast of lightning? How about a shimmer bouquet of flowers made out of gold? Fire? An adorable yet gorgeous, orange bird. A skeleton wielding a sword made out of a magical, spiteful energy? What about a simple, marble statue with golden streaks?

The witch only glared while panting and panting. She was clearly running out of magic. Daniel, however, has an infinite amount of energy. It's time to end this for good.

Mammon doesn't even know what he was doing anymore. He had nothing else to do except spectate the fight... and maybe punch the bars. Yes, that's what this moron was doing. He was punching the bars.

As Daniel continued to glare at the weakened witch, the bars began to fizzle and grew weaker and weaker by the minute. Ah, so that's what he was doing. He was running the witch's energy dry so that she wouldn't be able to keep up with him anymore. She would be too weak, thus, weakening the power of the cage.

Mammon's lips curled into a devilish smirk. He kept on going and going, punching the bars with all his might. He could sense the bars slowly cracking with each solid punch.

The cage shattered like glass as Daniel blasted the witch. This chaos was finally about to end permanently.

Mammon has already reached his breaking point. He pushed himself into the air and let himself fall forward, flying towards the witch at an unbelievable speed. His speed wasn't any different to the bullet of a gun. He gathered up the right amount of speed and then... gave her one good punch to the face — it caused her stiffened body to fall to the floor with a thud.

Mammon stood in front of the fallen witch's body with a malevolent smile on his face. He seemed so powerful. Well, that's not much of a surprise. After all, he IS the Great Mammon. His eyes, which were once a gradient pool of blue and yellow, was now filled with a burning rage that stood inside him.

. . .

It was over...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #fanfic #fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction

2 notes · View notes