#also he doesn’t speak any known human language so. they can’t use him to find the other mermaids🧜🏻‍♂️ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcyt-imagines · 3 years

Note

hi! love your writing! could you possibly do dating headcannons for technoblade?! possibly including some kissing/cuddling :)

I’m so sorry this took so long!! I’m finally on break so I’ll be posting a little more frequently for now! Also I got very carried away with this one,,,, um,,, it’s almost 4,000 words long,,, can you tell Techno is my comfort streamer?? And gender-neutral pronouns as usual! (Edit: This is C!Techno btw, didn’t think I needed to point that out seeing as we all know the actual streamer is not a bloodthirsty half-piglin man but I just got an angry anon in my ask box, so I’m specifying.))

Dating C!Technoblade HCs

Techno being half piglin shares their obsession with gold, and in turn, likes to gift you gold as often as he can. Usually, in the form of jewellery that matches his own, he even gifts you a ‘friendship’ emerald, embedded in a choker you wear most days. And of course, if you ask for it, he makes sure to acquire a crown for you to match his own. As a man who forges his own weapons, he is aware of the process of smelting and sure, he could make the jewellery himself but he’s not very crafty with his hands. Dealing with the small potion vials he uses to brew is difficult enough for his large hands, let alone something as finicky and delicate as jewellery. But when he’d asked you to make your relationship ‘official’ per se, he did persevere and make a ring for you, he ended up making several and scrapping too many he didn’t think were good enough. This continued until Phil had to intervene telling him that if he wasn’t gonna hurry up and ask you he was gonna do it for him, mortified at the thought Techno buckled down and despite the ring’s faults, which were only obvious to him, he gave it to you. You adored it of course, and then he told you he had made it, and it only made you love it more. Techno had underestimated how he would feel when he finally saw you wearing it, he almost killed Phil. The two had been sparring outside in the snow when you had come riding up from the nearby forest, the ring on your finger glinting against the early morning sun and stunning him. Him blindly thrusting his sword forward, head completely turned to you as you approached. Only turning away when he noticed your horrified expression. Thankfully Phil was fine, but you were banned from flashing anything too shiny whenever you came to visit. Techno never heard the end of it from Phil and yourself, however, teasing him for it whenever you had the time.

Techno is a man of few words, for the most part. His love language leans closer to physical touch and acts of service. This man craves your touch, you can hold him so gently in your small hands and he can hardly describe the feeling that washes over him. He wonders if he feels contentment, or if he just feels whole for once. The latter terrifies him because he has no idea what he’s going to do if he ever loses you. That’s a lie. He knows what will happen. The voices will finally win, and it’ll be over. He’ll be lost in the consciousness of a mind that was never truly his own, to begin with. But when you hold him he forgets about all of it, his mind feels clear and quiet. Even if it's just for a few minutes he cherishes those moments, holding you tightly to his chest and simply letting himself breathe. You are his rock, undoubtedly. And now that he’s lived without you for so long, he never intends on letting you go.

Techno’s favourite way to cuddle with you is when you’re both lying on the couch, you draped over him, head on his chest. Sometimes he’ll read to you and sometimes you’ll lie with him for hours, begging him to take a break for once. Even Phil can’t pull him away from his work on his worst days, but you never fail to tempt him with warm cuddles by the fire. Another one of his favourites has to be when every blue moon you wake up before him, he’s quite a light sleeper so once you stir, he’ll wake too. But if you manage to remain undetected and get downstairs he will groggily trudge down the ladder, shirtless and hair an absolute tangled mess. Without a word he will simply wrap his arms around you, pulling your back tightly against his chest and nuzzle his face into your neck all whilst grumbling that you left him alone to wake up. You will always giggle and apologise with soft kisses and a steaming cup of coffee, of course, he begrudgingly forgives you. Those slow morning cuddles as you cook are some of his favourites. When you desperately try to scoot around the small kitchen to stop the eggs from burning and he merely holds you tighter, strength easily holding you back as you whine out complaints as he chuckles against your neck.

Techno is such a sucker for you whenever you kiss his scars. He has a few on his hands that you will always target if you ever feel if he is getting quiet or distant. Your lips on his skin always pull his spiralling thoughts back to the present, back to you. Whenever he starts to feel less than human you practically drag the man to your shared bedroom to remind him of how human he is. Sometimes Techno will tell you the tales behind the scars you pay particular attention to, others he won’t, you focus on those the most. Doing your best to lighten the dark clouds that plague him on his worst days.

Techno isn’t one for a lot of PDA, content to hold your hand and occasionally kiss your forehead. However, if he ever feels threatened by any of the other members of the SMP he is likely to hold you close and glare down anyone who dares look your way. But Techno isn’t intimidated by anyone at the moment, meaning he has no reason to act particularly possessive whilst you’re out. This man adores your hands, he loves watching how small they look in his own. He’ll kiss along your knuckles, especially if you’re wearing the ring he gave you, he’ll murmur a soft, ‘Looking gorgeous your majesty.’ Just to watch the way you smile brightly at him when he does, almost always leaning forward to meet his lips with your own.

Techno is plagued by the memories of his past, the voices a constant reminder of this. He can handle them during the day, but it’s at night when he’s most vulnerable to them. The first time Techno wakes from a night terror you are practically thrown out of the bed as he violently jerks around. Which instantly sets you on alert, Techno sleeps like a rock usually. It’s only when you manage to stand up that you can see him, his body is caked in sweat, strands of his long hair sticking to his skin, the sheets are even damp from it. ‘Techno.’ You try to wake him, knowing he’s a light sleeper. But that doesn’t work. Eventually, you cautiously climb back into bed, tenderly holding his face in your hands, noticing tears slipping down his cheeks as he practically trembles. ‘Techno.’ You call his name again, nothing. ‘Techno!’ He shoots up, sending you flying backwards again in case he threw a punch with him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out. You’ve never seen him look so terrified before, he scans the room, eyes darting every which way until his eyes finally land on you. ‘A-Are you okay?’ You probe, the tears start again, but they are silent and run quick down his cheeks. His breathing is shallow and quick as his eyes seem to lose focus, looking straight through you. You move closer to him, ‘Hey, hey.’ You coo, unsure what the hell is going on because of course, Techno wasn’t going to tell you he has night terrors. You take his face in your hands again, wiping at the tears on his skin. ‘Techno you’re safe, you’re okay.’ You speak clearly before he pulls you closer, shoving his face into your chest, his arms tight around your middle. You wrap your arms around him as best you can, repeating comforting phrases until his grip loosens, and eventually, he pulls you back down to lie with him. You don’t ask him about it until he mentions it the next morning over breakfast. You hold him close as he talks, face emotionless and eyes blank, trying to distance himself from the events even as he retells them. You deserve to know the atrocious things he’s done. And yet you still choose to stay. Even after everything he tells you, you don’t budge from his side. That speaks louder to Techno than any confession of your undying love could.

Techno is a wanted individual and just by interacting with him, you’re put in danger. But being his partner doubles that danger by tenfold. His enemies will see you as his weakness and desire to use you against him. So, he takes it upon himself to train you, he knows the last thing you want to do is be the cause for his capture or untimely death. As much as Technoblade claims he never dies, if it were your life or his he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. This terrifies you beyond belief of course, so you agree to let him train you. No matter if you already are somewhat skilled Techno’s paranoia surrounding your safety will always encourage him to push your skills further. Most early mornings the two of you spend together, sparring for hours until the sun is high in the sky or until you grow too exhausted to continue. Which in the early days, was often. But there comes a day when you finally best him. He doesn’t remember if he was going easy on you or was distracted by his surroundings, scanning the perimeter. He only remembers the moment you knocked him down onto his back, you look down at him panting with such a shocked expression. Techno looks up to you and holds out an arm, you take it ready to pull him back up only for him to pull you down with him. Techno holds you tight to his chest, the sun warm on both of your faces as it reflects upon the surrounding snow. Neither of you speak but you both understand what this means, you’re ready.

Techno isn’t one for grand gestures to prove his love to you. The man is dramatic, sure. But he finds himself yearning for simplicity, and you provide it. He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often, he is a man of few words, you’ve always known this so you never expected it. However, his actions scream it to you. Countless times you have mentioned small complaints about little things in your life and Techno takes them on as if the draft in your window had a personal vendetta against him. As if it had threatened your very life. You’d never seen a man fix a window frame so aggressively before. It was funnier to watch than you’d admit to him if given the chance. On one particular occasion, you mentioned his absence from the cabin, his explanation of the importance of the Syndicate and the new room Phil and himself had constructed. You understood and didn’t mention it again, not thinking anything of it but a necessary and temporary inconvenience. Only for Phil and Techno to be set up at the kitchen table when you came downstairs the next morning, the table covered in tattered books and coffee spill-stained scrolls. You were confused for a moment, spotting the Syndicate plans, codenames, etc sprawled out in Phil’s chicken scratch. Until it clicked. Hauling all of the stuff up from the Syndicate room had been a bit of a pain but the way your eyes lit up in realisation was more than enough for Techno to know it was the right choice.

This man cannot keep a secret from you. Most may think he isn’t very talkative, but you can hardly get him to shut up sometimes. Not that you’d ever want him to, eager to listen to whatever he has to say. He will always come to you when he feels he needs advice, knowing you will offer a fresh perspective that may give him the breakthrough he needs to make an informed decision. You are his rock and he never wants you to forget that. He may be more talkative with you but that doesn’t stop him from being a fantastic listener. Sometimes he can get zoned out when the voices become too much. In the beginning, you found it difficult to tell when he wasn’t able to listen, but after being around him for so long you’ve got a better knack for it. And sometimes you can’t and you keep talking, he’ll just silently press a hand to whatever part of you is easiest to reach. And that usually gets the message across. Sometimes you can pull him out of his own head, and other times you can’t. So you just sit with him in comfortable silence, usually, you’ll place your smaller hand in his and lean into him. The two of you have fallen asleep countless times like that.

However, sometimes the fact he can’t keep a secret from you leads to some comical miscommunication neither of the two of you foresaw. Phil, Techno and Ranboo had left for around a week in search of a new woodland mansion to raid, following one of Ranboo’s countless maps. Upon their return, Techno seemed visibly, off. He wasn’t being distant or getting lost in his own head, it was more as if he were actively avoiding you. Which was something very un-Techno. What made your worry increase tenfold was when you asked Phil if he had noticed any kind of difference the blonde merely shook his head. “He seems normal to me, mate.” Because there’s no way Phil didn’t notice Techno’s change in behaviour, which means they’re both hiding something from you. Knowing the two men quite well, you knew they wouldn’t break. But Ranboo would. So with your head held high, you sought out to find the boy, only to find out he was staying in Snowchester for the time being but would be returning in the morning. That night thoughts of self-doubt plagued you, wondering if it was something you had said or done that made Techno act strangely. But just as the moon was reaching its zenith, Techno came into your shared bedroom. He beckoned for you to follow him, after putting on some snow appropriate outerwear the two of you were on the back of Carl headed towards the forest’s tree line that faced the cabin. You asked Techno where you were going his only response, “It’s a surprise.” And to say your heart soared would be a slight understatement when the two of you finally reached the forest clearing. A small candlelit dinner for two inside of a dark oak gazebo. One that looked as if it had only been finished recently, the veneer on the wood still in impeccable condition as Techno led you over to it. You were truly floored by this display, stars illuminated in your bright eyes. “Phil and Ranboo helped. We brainstormed on our way back from the woodland mansion. And I, I knew I’d spill the secret the moment you asked. Sorry.” His apology and explanation are curt, much like the man himself. You hold him tight then, arms wrapped around him for as long as he’ll let you. He chuckles after a while, “C’mon, the food’s getting cold.” He pulls away after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling your chair out for you because Phil told him to. The blush you provide lets him know he should do it more often. As the two of you begin to finish your food you hear the soft strumming of a guitar and an equally soft voice to match. Floating atop one of the branches in a nearby tree, as if he were trying to sit on it, is Ghostbur. He sends a small and quick wave when you spot him before his hand drops back down to his guitar. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops for this, huh?” You look back to Techno to find him now stood up, offering his hand to you. “For you. Anything.” You take his hand and he leads you into the middle of the gazebo with a grace you always knew he had. Ghostbur continues to serenade, the two of you dancing in your own private world until the moon was low on the horizon once again.

Whenever Techno leaves to go and fight he knows you worry about him. You do not doubt his skills but his luck is bound to run out eventually. Skill and resources only account for so much of the outcome, luck and fate determine the rest. Techno worries when he leaves to fight as well. He worries about what will happen if he ever loses. When his enemies will come for you, his past now liable to catch up with you as well as himself. He can’t have that happen. That’s why he keeps fighting, he won’t stop until he knows that if he ever falls in battle you will be safe from his enemies past or present. When Techno eventually does get back from the battle, without fail you will swear up and down that he cannot keep doing this and that next time you’re going to leave him to bleed out in the snow on the porch. You never do. But some days Techno thinks you’d be better off if you did. But those are the kind of thoughts you happily kiss away with a soft smile and a few gently spoken words. You are always the one to patch him up when he’s injured, which isn’t often but you remain swift with sutures and bandages despite that. No matter how badly he’s been injured you will always hold him so reverently, with such a gentle expression that it never fails to floor him. Most sessions in which you patch him up devolve into soft gasps and warm hands on your body to repay you for your ‘services’.

Techno knew you were different from the moment he met you. He acknowledges how stupidly cliché that is, but it’s true. The constant chatter of the voices in his head drowned out the first time he saw you, even if it was just for a moment. They stuttered and stammered, just as he did. You floored them as much as you floored him. When you were with him, they would quieten. As if they wanted to concentrate on what you were saying as much as he did. Not even Phil made the voices act in such a way. Only you. Nowadays they only bother him on certain bad days that grow more and more infrequent the longer you are in his life. You drown them out in a way nothing else in his life ever has. He doesn’t know how he can ever repay you for that but vowing to be by your side for the rest of his life seems to be a good enough start for the two of you.

The first time Techno tells you he loves you is when you’re in battle together. Techno, Phil and yourself had decided to raid a woodland mansion, something all three of you had done before with no trouble. But upon arriving, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. This led to the three of you becoming separated within the confines of the thick wooden walls. You were managing to keep a level head but fear was growing in the pit of your stomach. With every vindicator you took down another only seemed to replace it, leaving you tired and heaving for air. You were in good shape all things considered but you were getting tired and soon you would get careless, you needed to find Techno and Phil and get the hell out of here before things got worse. Your totem of undying tied tightly to your waist glints against the setting sun pouring through the large floor to ceiling windows as you charge past, enemies remain at your back as you plough forward heading for the set of stairs you know are here somewhere. As you spot the sacred stairs you hear a shout of pain followed by a deep snarl. You look over the stairs balcony to see Techno swarmed by a group of stubborn Vex. He looks exhausted. Bloodstains him, you’re unsure whether it’s his, the enemies, or a combination of the two. Techno fails to notice the Ravager charging towards him from behind, the axe raised high above its head. The half-piglin far too distracted by the Vex and the aiming of his crossbow at their stupid little bodies. It takes only a moment for you to vault over the second-floor railing and plummet towards the Ravager. You land on its shoulders and it stumbles, your hand shoots out to restrain its axe-wielding arm. The other hand desperately clawing at you as it grumbles and groans grow high pitched and panicked. Your legs wrap tightly around its throat until you hear a sickening pop and you fall to the ground along with the now very dead Ravager. You don’t manage to catch yourself, despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You let out a soft groan as a hand comes into view, Techno following it. You take his hand and he hauls you back up and onto your feet. Now that you’re closer to him you can tell that some of the blood staining his clothing is his, but you’re sure you mirror his look. He doesn’t let go of your hand now that you’re stood up and neither do you. You look up from your entwined hands to his face, he’s staring at you with an expression you can’t quite determine. “Tech-“ His lips plant firmly onto your own, swallowing your words instantly. He grips the small of your back, trying to pull you closer into him as if the two of you could fuse into one single being. When he finally pulls away to let you breathe your lungs are burning, soft gasps heaving in air. “I love you-” He mumbles the phrase repeatedly against your lips like a prayer, a mantra, only to capture your lips again before you can even respond to his confession in kind. Eventually, the two of you break apart long enough for you to be able to tell him you love him as well. You knew he loved you before that moment, but in reality, he finally realised how much he loved you. And for the first time, it didn’t scare him.

~Requests are still open! But it’s a little full so please be patient!~

#technoblade x reader #technoblade mcyt #x reader #mcyt imagines #mcyt headcanons #mcyt x reader #c!techno x reader

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codename-adler · 3 years

Text

Death of Heroes

Because not even Neil can outrun the ephemerality of men.

Renee is the first one to go.

Nearing sixty but never reaching it, she is outlived by Abby and Wymack. At least Stephanie Walker is waiting for her at the gates of Heaven, but for the rest of her Foxes, the loss is heavy.

It’s cancer. Leukemia.

It started with the bruises from her sparring matches with Andrew not healing very well. Then not at all. After decades of maintaining these monthly meetings, of keeping her body healthy, Renee finally has to give it up. She knows something is wrong, and she knows that these sessions won’t be of any help, now.

Then the extreme fatigue starts. Still, Renee doesn’t do a thing about it. Or at least, she lets life go its own course. She looses weight, which she already doesn’t have much of. But then the nosebleeds begin, and it’s no use telling Allison to stop worrying. The diagnosis is unsurprising, yet still shattering. And it’s not a good prognosis either, but it’s still not bad enough for the doctor to give up the Five-Year survival plan.

Renee has to speak up. Ally, I don’t want to do this. She has to put her foot down. Allison, my love, it’ll be okay. I won’t get better, you and I both know that. But it can be okay. It can still be good.

Renee doesn’t get treatment. Renee doesn’t tell anybody, except Andrew. Because Andrew knows, somehow, that she made a terrible, irreversible choice. Because Andrew only deals in truths. Because Andrew is Andrew, and just as he needed her all those years ago, she needs him now.

A little more than six months pass, with less and less outings from Renee and more and more excuses from Allison, and Renee gets sick. Really sick. It starts like a regular cold. Then it looks more like the flu. And suddenly it’s pneumonia, and respiratory difficulties, and lung failure. She’s in that hospital bed, wearing that gown, breathing in that mask. Renee finally nods to Allison, giving her consent.

Ally makes the call.

Only Andrew and Dan make it in time.

Renee Walker goes out like a light.

The Foxes, who had once upon a time been used to murders, life-threatening schemes and acts of extreme violence, had never really known Death itself. The simple, yet inevitable fate of human lives. Of going quietly into the night. It’s all so quiet. So anticlimactic. It’s so quiet, too quiet, too heavy with silence. This time, there is no one to blame, no one to punish, no one to take responsibility.

It’s just life. It’s just death.

Wymack and Abby can’t believe that one of their Foxes, on of their kids, left before them. Renee’s Korean roots made her look barely a day over forty, which made it all so much worse. Renee’s death takes a toll on every single one of them. Because it’s Renee, the best of them. Because all her papers are in orders, her will to date, her wishes known; just as when she was alive, she leaves no chaos behind her.

There is nothing and no one to be mad at, except life.

In the cemetery where Stephanie Walker is buried, Andrew buys a large lot of land. (Large enough to one day welcome all the Foxes) The tomb is moved over there, and Renee’s name is added. A tree is planted above her scattered ashes. It’s very small, very fragile, but with the years, it grows strong.

For the first time, the Foxes realize that, despite going through Hell and back in their youth, they are not immortal. There is nothing to be done about that, but it hurts. It hurts to lose their angel this way, so soon, so suddenly. It hurts to lose, period. It feels like a failure, like giving up. They lost her. They lost.

But somehow, they gained something else they might never know about. Renee might have been the only religious one among them, but that didn’t stop her from becoming their Guardian Angel. Because somehow, from then on, the Foxes were spared.

Let me show you.

Just as Bee had a few years before Renee, Abby, then Wymack, simply die in their sleep, no fight, no agony. None of them have to see another Fox go before them. They don’t have to go through that indescribable ordeal ever again. They are spared the pain.

Then decades pass, enough for the remaining Foxes to grow very old, and live very long. Not infinitely, but long enough.

Matt is the next one to go.

Matt has worked hard all his life, both mentally and physically. It comes to no surprise, then, that arthritis chose to invade his body. For the first few years living with the diagnosis, natural medicine and osteopathy are enough to keep the pain at bay. It doesn’t stop Matt from doing anything. He babysits his 9 grandchildren with Dan every week; he goes on roadtrips with Dan every summer; he goes on a light jog with Dan every day.

It’s just that one day, it’s not enough anymore. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the pain becomes too much for Matt to do his day-to-day activities. And really, the pain, he could take; it was an old friend, a familiar feeling, almost like a sixth sense.

It was the mental toll of it all that he couldn’t take. To have to say no to seeing his grandchildren. No to driving around endlessly and aimlessly for hours. No to waking up in sync with Dan every morning, and no to their routine, and no, and no, and just- not living.

For the first time in a long time, Matt doesn’t want to do this anymore.

But he does, still. He smiles, and he lies, and he tries to will away the pain.

It all comes down to one afternoon, when he takes his painful walk of the day around the neighborhood. There are three little kids playing Exy in their driveway, when suddenly a ball escapes their racquets and rolls down in the street. The smallest kid runs after it, runs and runs and runs, without looking. Kind of like Neil, Matt thinks to himself before his body acts of his own. The kid doesn’t see the car, and the car doesn’t see the kid. Matt sees both.

The BMW is going way over the limit, its sleek black sides reflecting the sun too brightly. Despite his pain, despite his age, despite his now slow reflexes, Matt leaps. He screams at the kid to stop and turn around, to let the ball roll away, but to no avail.

Matt pushes the kid away in time for the car to hit him instead, and only him.

The rest becomes a blur, but the final verdict is as such: broken hip, shattered leg, probably won’t walk ever again, even with surgery. The doctors and surgeons warn Matt that with his age, his pre-existing condition, and his drug history, surgery might kill him. But Matt refuses to be bedridden for the rest of his already miserable life. Dan knows that. She knows that he has to try. Knows that he might not pull through. She also knows that Matt wants to go, has wanted to for a while now.

She calls Neil. She calls Allison. From there, all the Foxes are bound to get the news. Matt promises to wait until their arrival before going into surgery. In the meantime, the nurses start a morphine line, after warning the couple very strongly about the side effects and the risks. But Matt is in pain, terrible pain, and it’s a compromise to wait for his Foxes. It takes about a week for all of them to come to his bedside, with Nicky being last, coming all the way from Germany. Neil and Allison barely leave his room; Dan doesn’t at all. The others take turns, leaving as much space for Matt’s kids and grandkids as their hearts can allow.

The open spot for Matt’s surgery is on a Friday.

Matt Boyd does not make it to Friday.

The morphine is too heavy on his heart. It was a possible outcome, not as alarming as the upcoming surgery, but... Matt had secretely wished to go ever since and- maybe, up there in Heaven, someone heard him...

Dan and Matt had had a mutual understanding, that it was okay, but it doesn’t make it any more easy to let go.

Two months into Matt’s departure, Allison moves in with Dan. She walks her through every stage of grief. She grieves all over again herself, too. But they make it.

Same goes for Andrew with Neil. Neil doesn’t know loss like this. Death like this.

And yet. And yet. Deep, deep down, Neil is scared. That after all his years of running, and fighting, and lying, he won’t get that peaceful ending Matt was granted.

But Neil lives.

And Nicky leaves.

A few months after Matt, he and Erik simply stay in the States. They say it’s because they want to be close, because they don’t want to miss anything, because they don’t want to risk a Fox leaving without a chance at saying goodbye. Because Nicky misses his Aaron and his Andrew.

Which are all valid and true motives. It’s just not the whole truth.

Nicky has dementia. Alzheimer’s, to be precise. Diagnosed about a year ago. It’s not bad yet, but- It’s the endless back-and-forth between the house and “der Supermarkt” because Nicky forgot what he drove there for in the first place. It’s forgetting words in all the languages Nicky speaks. It’s freaking out at all the Germans speaking German, because Nicky sometimes believe he is still living in America. It’s not finding the Columbia house and panicking when Nicky can’t get a hold of Andrew or Aaron.

It’s hard, it’s heartbreaking, it’s terrifying, but it’s manageable.

Once Nicky and Erik settle back down in North Carolina, they both wonder how long it’ll take before the twins figure it out, because there is no way Nicky is telling them, but he also knows nothing can get past his twins.

And he’s right. Between Aaron’s acute knowledge of Medicine and Andrew’s reknown lie-detector skills, it takes about 14 days for them to take Nicky hostage and demand the truth.

As the year comes to an end, Nicky’s dementia doesn’t seem to progress that much. He seems to escape the worst. He doesn’t forget anyone. He doesn’t become aggressive, doesn’t go missing, doesn’t lose any function of his body. Without looking too closely, Nicky is simply getting old.

The twin girls he and Erik adopted get to move back in for a little while, having lived in the U.S. all their lives and seeing their parents fly to Germany after their retirement. They know, too, and try to make the most of it. They are lucky. They are so lucky. Nicky is a miracle patient.

In the end, though, it’s Nicky’s body rather than his mind that gives out. Once you reach a certain point in time living with the disease, but without the general complications of it, eventually the brain has trouble managing all the organs of the body. So instead of forgetting to eat, or forgetting names and faces, sometimes your brain doesn’t remember how to make your heart beat. Or how to make make your lungs breathe.

Nicky Hemmick stops breathing in the middle of the night, after having wished his twin daughters goodnight, texted his other set of twins goodnight, and kissed his husband goodnight. Nicky had thought, then, that it was indeed, a good night.

Just as he had remembered his Foxes until the end, he was remembered by them as the big-hearted lover that Heaven had just gained as its new angel.

Too soon after him, though, it’s Allison’s turn.

It’s not that she’d simply been waiting around for the day she could be reunited with Renee. She just didn’t understand why her Foxes kept leaving, and why she was still stuck here without her other half.

She didn’t just wait, though. She helps Dan out with the grandkids, and sometimes the grown-up kids too. She volunteers a lot. She gives back to the Columbia community, and all around the world. She travels to places she’s never been, places that remind her of Renee, but are void of painful memories. She empties their bucket list, and much more. The last thing Allison has yet to do, the only thing left to do, is mending her relationship with her parents. Or parent. Singular. In spite of everything, including the death of her husband, Francesca Reynolds was still standing strong at the head of the Reynolds empire. 100 years old was nothing when you lived in spite.

In a twisted way, Allison believed that maybe her mother was the last piece she needed to mend before she was allowed to go. That despite being gone for years, Renee was still there somewhere, looking out for her and making sure she didn’t have any regrets.

So Allison accomplished the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the impossible. For the first time in decades, she flew back to the Reynolds estate and spoke to her mother. In person.

It was not the emotional reunion Renee might have hoped for, but it was a reunion still. That was more than enough for Allison. They didn’t talk about the big things. The important things. But they talked. They talked. And they scheduled another talk.

Back home with Dan, Allison embraced her friend and let the tears fall. She was grateful for her friend, but both of them knew that these were not the arms Allison wished to be held in. She went to rest a bit before dinner, and she tried to imagine how it would feel like to have Renee hold her again.

For someone as loud, as present and as strong as she was, Allison Walker slipped quietly from time.

When Dan found her, she could only smile tearfully. She played with her hair one last time as she called her Foxes.

Allison left Dan in charge of her finances, and so she took over her charity duties and went above and beyond to honor her friend’s memory. Her sister.

Dan thought she would be next. She wished, she hoped, she prayed to be next.

She wasn’t.

Kevin was.

He might have been the biggest and hardest loss to weather. It wasn’t a feeling that could be explained. As painful as it had been to lose Renee, and Matt, and Nicky, and Allison, losing Kevin was... the great and terrible 10, as they’d say.

Kevin should have died way sooner. His liver should have given out because of all the alcohol it had endured in Kevin’s youth. His heart should have given out because of all the stress it had faced for most of Kevin’s life. All the bad things that could happen with old age should have happened to Kevin, but they didn’t. They didn’t.

Death came knocking one day, and politely asked him if he would please follow them, and Kevin simply took it as a sign that his time was up.

That day, Kevin had felt a numbing pain in his chest all morning long. Used to little injuries here and there, he hadn’t thought anything of it. And he certainly wasn’t about to worry his doctor of a husband...

However, as the sun reached it’s highest in the sky, Kevin couldn’t really hide his pain any longer. He had lain down on their couch for a bit, but he couldn’t seem to get back up. It was too exhausting. So he called for Aaron, as loud as he could in the state he was.

As Aaron stumbled into the living room, Kevin tried to use his softest voice to inform his husband of the situation. Aaron immediately called an ambulance, and when the vehicle took them both away, he reached for his phone again to make, once again, a terrible call to their Foxes. But through his oxygen mask, Kevin reached out to grap his wrist and whispered, with difficulty, just Neil... just Andrew...

Because here’s the thing: Kevin loved his Foxes, and his Foxes loved him back. Immensely.

He loved them so much he had married one, with another one of them as best man (Neil), another as his husband’s (Andrew), and yet another one as their celebrant (Renee).

They loved him so much that it was only short of worship by a hair or two. And Kevin knew that. He loved Dan like a sister. And by extension, he loved Erik like a brother, too. And he loved all the Foxes’ children and grandchildren like his own, despite never being a parent himself.

But Neil and Andrew... There were no words for what they were to him. He knew that he wouldn’t have to talk them through it. He knew they would be the only ones strong enough and close enough to hold Aaron up in case it all turned to shit the moment he passed the hospital doors.

And being the History nerd he had always been, Kevin had written letters, a long time ago. To his Foxes. Most of them had left before him, and so he could never give them their letters, but Dan, and Erik for Nicky, could still have those letters. Kevin poured everything into these letters. It had taken him years, ever since Renee’s departure. He wrote, and threw away, and started again, until he got it right. Nine letters, for his nine Foxes. Andrew knew about it. He’d give Nicky’s and the upperclassmen’s to Dan and Erik, and they’d understand. Kevin didn’t want them to be there, at the very end of it all. He just wanted Aaron. And Neil. And Andrew.

Those three had letters waiting for them, too. Andrew would hand them over a month later. But he would never open his.

Andrew and Neil arrived just before 1 PM. Kevin was hooked on all sorts of IVs and still had the oxygen mask on. His heart monitor was beeping very, very slowly, erratically. He was still Kevin Day in all his gloriousness, but he was much more Kevin, their beloved Kevin.

On one side of the hospital bed, Aaron never let go of Kevin’s hand. On the other side, Kevin removed the mask and weakly motioned for Neil to take the other hand. But Neil was stunned. Frozen. So Andrew came up behind him, and held Kevin’s hand.

It would be the first, and the last time.

Just as Neil finally sprung into action and went to put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, feeling his wiry muscles and his fragile bones underneath the hospital gown, Kevin closed his eyes.

The heart monitor began flatlining.

Neil looked at the monitor, then to Kevin. He looked at Andrew, then back at Kevin, and then at Aaron. His eyes couldn’t stay focused on one thing. He was still hoping. He was still refusing.

Aaron lowered his head. Kissed Kevin’s hand.

Andrew held on tighter to Kevin’s other hand. Gripped the back of Neil’s neck.

Kevin took Death’s hand, which felt a lot like Aaron’s, and Andrew’s, and Renee’s, and walked away.

Aaron unplugged the monitor. And called it.

Time of death: 13:01.

It took exaclty one month, day for day, for Aaron to leave as well. They called it the Broken Heart Syndrome. On the surface, Aaron had held it together. But Andrew knew. He saw. That he was losing him as well.

Some could say that, by handing over Kevin’s letter, Andrew killed his brother. But those who would say that didn’t even begin to understand the complexity of the bond between twin brothers. Especially not the Minyards.

Because what Andrew really did, with that letter, was gifting Aaron with relief.

Peace. Quiet.

Love.

Aaron could exhale, now. He would see Kevin soon, now.

And so in the same room, in the same bed as his husband’s, Aaron Minyard forced Death’s hand and demanded to see Kevin again.

And then there were three.

Dan lived for so long that she started to fear outliving her children. She felt old, so old. In her head and in her heart. She did not believe in a God, but she often found herself praying to someone, anyone. She did not believe in angels and demons, but she often wondered how long they would keep her from Death.

So she waited. For the days to go and the nights to pass. She barely ate anymore. She barely moved. She was only feeling okay when she slept outside, in her chair in the backyard, the sun shinning on her beautiful face. She could sleep for hours there, surrounded by her lively garden. The wind swayed her skirts, the trees whispered in her ears. It was okay.

And at the same time, it wasn’t.

She was tired. She was lonely. Even Erik, a couple of years ago, had gone to rejoin his husband. Neil visited her at least once a week, but he still had Andrew. He couldn’t understand, nor could he stay away from him for too long. He would miss him too much.

Every year she celebrated another birthday, and every year she blew her candles wishing they were her last.

And at last, her wish came true.

Dan was expecting one of her kids to come by in the afternoon. The Carolina sun was shinning quite hard on her, so she had placed her chair in way that let the sunlight hit the back of her head, turned away completely from her house. Her daughter knew exactly where to find her when she arrived, and so she didn’t wait for a response to her presence before making her way down into the garden. She had called her mother multiple times, and had assumed she was sleeping when she hadn’t answered.

Dan was not sleeping.

Dan Wilds had left this world, the sunlight pouring down on her like the radiant goddess that she was.

Being one of the last Foxes, it took a day before Neil and Andrew got the news of her death. They don’t get involved in the funeral preparations, but they show up. And that’s enough.

People don’t really bother them anymore, so they can bid farewell to their Captain in relative peace. They come by Dan’s house aftwerwards, too, and help her kids out with everything. Yes, even Andrew.

Dan’s death makes them reflect the most.

About the Foxes. About each of their departures. How they all lived a good and long life. How they all died a good and quiet death.

They think about how they were always the ones nearing death, always fighting to stay alive. About how they died a million deaths before the age of 18.

They think about how they are the last ones standing, even after everything.

They survived. They lived.

(They loved)

Neil and Andrew should not have gotten this far. They should not have lived this long. They shouldn’t have. But somehow, somewhere above, someone has watched over them and made sure that they didn’t get the ending they should’ve had, but the ending they deserved.

Neil and Andrew don’t really want to die. They don’t really want to live on either. But they take every day that they are given, to be with each other, to mend their hearts still, to breathe.

They take every breath they can.

They wonder who will leave first. Who will have to say goodbye and stay behind, who will have to wait.

It’s a fear neither of them had ever thought they’d have. Not like that.

And it’s only a matter of time before they get their answer. They are, after all, getting very old. It is both a blessing and a curse.

After decades of partnership, Neil and Andrew still go to bed the same way they did when they were eighteen. Both facing each other, their hands joined in the middle, their nose a breath apart.

After decades of peace, Neil and Andrew still wake from sleep at the slightest abnormality.

Which is why the minute Neil Josten gives out his last breath, Andrew awakes.

Neil’s hand in his is still warm and his skin is still soft. His hair, although completely white for quite some years now, still have that bronze glow to them. They’re still curly, and soft to the touch. Andrew passes a hand through them before resting it on the back of Neil’s neck.

He looks at Neil like it’s the first time, tries to memorize every detail of his beautiful face. He rubs circle in his skin, and takes in everything that was, that is Neil. His husband. His junkie. His rabbit. His pipedream. His lover. His love.

Andrew doesn’t move from their bed.

When he has finally spoken everything that he feels to Neil, from the safety of his mind, Andrew moves closer to him so their foreheads touch and noses align. He takes Neil’s lifeless hand again, and kisses it. He sets their hands back down, between the two of them, and looks at Neil one last time.

And slowly, Andrew Minyard closes his eyes, forever.

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goingmorry · 3 years

Text

Trafalgar Law [A-Z Alphabet Fluff]

Synopsis: How is Trafalgar Law like as your romantic partner? 💖

Count: 2813 words

Activities

Reading. Law is an avid reader. He loves to read all kinds of material, both fiction and non-fiction, such as short stories, novels, comics, articles, news, and medical textbooks. As such, you took it upon yourself to read together with him. During nights, when the rest of the crew retires to their quarters, you and Law take turns reading to each other. As your quiet and gentle voice fills the silent room, Law visibly relaxes. A faint but genuine smile graces his normally impassive features. When it's his turn to read, you enjoy the calm and soothing nature of his voice.

Resting/pillow talk. While Law is known to suffer from insomnia, he enjoys resting in bed together with you. This is usually accompanied with reading, but when you're both exhausted, both of you lie together in silence or in hushed sounds through light conversations. For the most part, you talk while Law listens. Law also tends to overwork himself so you being with him ensures that he unwinds for the day.

Medical assistance. Law is the doctor of the ship. As such, one of his primary duties is to perform both minor and major medical procedures when his crew sustains injury. He typically doesn't need assistance to conduct his minor medical duties; however, your insistence in helping him whenever possible has prompted him to seek your support. Despite your lack of medical knowledge, Law is not opposed to instructing you. You've proven yourself to be a reliable assistant. Truthfully, he enjoys having you adopt a nurse role by his side.

Beauty

Your compassion. Despite Law's outwardly aloof demeanor, he finds your kindness endearing. He’s used to incessantly berating you during the many times when you put your life in danger to save others; however, he's resigned to the fact that your compassion for others is one of your defining qualities. It's what drew him to you after all.

Comfort

Law is perceptive. He can tell when you're feeling down, and he can definitely tell when you're about to have a panic attack. He's quick to shift to his doctor persona, guiding you through breathing exercises as you breathe in and breathe out while slowly coming to your senses.

Law is not overly affectionate, but if you desire hugs or other forms of physical contact, he will give them to you without hesitation. You have his undivided attention.

When you recover, Law is cautiously optimistic and takes your vitals. He asks if you're feeling better and if you'd like to talk about it, but he's not forceful if you're not willing to disclose information to him.

Dreams

In the moment. Law is happy to live in the moment with you. Thinking of the future unnerves him, as his carefully arranged plans do not always develop the way he expects them to.

Fate. Just like his meeting with Cora-san during the most tragic part of his life, he believes meeting you was fate. Your fates were intertwined from the moment you first encountered each other, and they will continue to be until the day both of you breathe your last.

Equal

Dominant. Law has expressed his aversion for being told what to do. As the Captain of the Heart Pirates, he prefers to issue orders. While his dominance extends toward your relationship, this doesn't mean that he doesn't respect and value your opinions. He treats you fairly, as an equal, always making sure he listens to your input when you have something to say.

Law is dominant but not overbearing. As someone whose freedom was stripped away the moment he was born due to the Amber Lead disease, Law would never dream of taking away your freedom in any capacity.

Fight

Forgiving. It might surprise you to know that Law is an extremely forgiving person. He understands that couples get into disagreements; it's natural. So long as you don't betray his trust, he is willing to forgive and learn from most arguments.

Law usually appears collected when arguing with you; however, he loses his cool when you are quick to put yourself in harm's way. Law is not one to hold resentment after making up with you, preferring to be with you here and now.

Gratitude

Attentive. Law is aware of what you do for him. You try to be subtle, but he's quick to catch on. He tries to keep a calm façade, but he's overwhelmed with affection for you on the inside. You can expect him to snuggle closer to you tonight.

Law shows his gratitude indirectly. "Here. I got this on the way to town," he says, handing you a bag of your favorite sweets. He doesn't say it, but he loves watching your face light up in excitement at the prospect of stuffing your cheeks with delicious desserts.

Honesty

Although Law is honest, he tends to fill you in with the details after the fact. He doesn't do this out of malice but out of necessity. As Captain of the Heart Pirates, ally of the Strawhat Pirates, and a member of the Worst Generation, his life is in constant jeopardy. Now, with you by his side, he's paranoid and won't risk being caught off-guard until the threats have been neutralized. He prefers to do now and talk later.

When reminiscing about the past—as it relates to his childhood in Flevance and being under the care of the Donquixote family, specifically Cora-san—he struggles to share these painful memories. Although he opens up to you eventually, he won't willingly share all the moments when something reminds him of his past. How your kindness reminds him of Cora-san. How your love for festivals reminds him of Lami. He refuses to burden you with these thoughts.

Inspiration

Law is kind. Cora-san's sacrifice made sure of that.

Although Law regained his humanity, he doesn't put himself out there to assist others in need if doing so will jeopardize his plan. Instead, your insistence to help others forces his hand.

While Law believes that pirates should not do kind things, his actions contradict his statement. He will honor the Hippocratic Oath and use his Devil Fruit powers (Ope-Ope no Mi) to treat others to the best of his ability.

Law takes issue with being seen as a kind person by strangers. He refuses to accept others gratitude. When confronted, he will make up an excuse in an effort to portray himself as a selfish and ruthless pirate. Regardless, the recipients of his acts of kindness are not fooled.

Jealousy

Watchful. Law is protective. How could he not be when you look so radiant? So full of life, warmth, and affection? He trusts you. It's strangers he doesn't trust. He's worried other people will take advantage of your benevolence.

He deals with his jealousy by keeping you in his sight whenever feasible. If he can't be with you, he'll ask his crewmembers to accompany you. The life of piracy is a dangerous one, so one can never be too certain if danger lurks around the corner. "It's best to be prepared," Law states decisively.

Kiss

Great kisser. Law did not have any prior romantic experiences prior to being in a relationship with you; however, since then, he's had a lot of time to practice. He's able to perfectly balance sucking, biting and using his tongue when kissing you. When he initiates a kiss that's more than a peck on the lips, such as kissing your erogenous zones, it leads to a full-blown makeout session.

First kiss. Law's lips moved hesitantly over yours, his tattooed fingers skimming your blushing cheek, before deciding to gently cradle the side of your face. You were pleasantly surprised at how soft his lips were considering his roughened exterior. The kiss remained tentative at first, both you and him feeling overwhelmed with each other's company. You weren't certain when his hand moved from the side of your face to the back of your head. You felt his calloused fingers interweave with your flowing hair, lightly tugging until you opened your mouth to moan softly. Law deepened the kiss by slipping his teasing tongue inside, eager to hear more of your voice as you moaned for him once more.

Love Confession

You are the first to express your love for him. Law is flabbergasted. How could someone, as kind as you are, have romantic feelings for a man like him? It's a dangerous thought, one he refuses to answer. Meanwhile, Sengoku's words in Dressrosa echo in his head. "Don't ever attach a reason to someone's love." His recklessness presents itself and he allows himself to act.

Staring at you with you such longing in his golden irises, he grabs your arm, intent on closing the distance between your bodies. His grip is gentle yet firm as he drags you over to him, and your face flushes under his observant gaze. Although you were nervous, you refuse to break eye contact, determined to show him how sincere you were. Law responds by molding your eager lips against his. After all, actions speak louder than words.

Marriage

Indifferent. There is no doubt that Law loves you; however, he is indifferent about marriage. If you bring it up as a discussion point to him, he will start to consider the prospect of marriage life. Growing up, he’s seen how happy his parents were, and how much love and affection they showed him and Lami. He wonders if that reality is plausible for him too.

Once the way has been paved for the New Generation of Pirates, Law proposes. In the Captain’s Quarters of the Polar Tang, he presents you with a small velvet box with an inscrutable expression on his face. His golden eyes betray him as they waver in intensity, carefully scrutinizing your face and eyes for movement, for your reaction during this vulnerable moment. When Law proposes, it’s direct and sincere. No flowery language. He speaks from the heart. “Marry me. I love you.” You were more than happy to oblige.

Being married to Law is primarily the same as it was when you were dating—with two differences being the wedding rings in your left hands, and that you can now refer to one another as a wedded couple.

Nicknames

Law doesn’t use nicknames. He prefers to address you by your actual name. Prior to being in a relationship with you, he addresses you by your epithet as described in your wanted poster. Now, “S/O-ya” is his go-to.

On Cloud Nine

Inconspicuous. Law is the king of keeping your relationship concealed to strangers. While Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were the first to discover your relationship with the Captain, the rest of the Heart Pirates weren’t aware of your relationship with Law until one year in. Outside the privacy of your bedroom, don’t expect anything more than occasional longing glances passed between each other.

When Law falls in love, he does so gradually. He doesn’t mean to fall in love until he realizes that you have been increasingly pervading his thoughts. At this point, he's in denial. Love is an inconvenience, a weakness that will distract him from his goal in finding the true meaning of the Will of D.

Law eventually comes to terms with his love for you. He feels undeserving, attempting to distance himself from you until you confront him about his aloof behavior. Your stubbornness convinces him that he can't escape. A smile tugs on the corner of his lips before he can stop himself.

PDA

Discreet. You can expect your relationship with Law to be on the down-low. Most people, outside of his crewmates, won't be able to tell that he's in a relationship as he treats you the same way as he would a member of his crew. If people observe him long enough, they'll be able to catch his eyes as they settle on you, wandering a little too long on your form, from across the room.

On the off-chance that someone asks about your relationship with him, Law won't explicitly confirm or deny his relationship with you. He's afraid that word will spread that he’s found a lover, leading to his enemies targeting you to get to him.

Quirk

Competitive. While Law doesn't willingly participate in contests, he finds himself reluctantly dragged into them by you. Due to his physical prowess and mental aptitude, Law is quite skilled in winning a variety of competitions, such as carnival games, trivias, and sports events. He gives the prizes he wins from them to you as a reward for cheering him on.

Romance

Cliché. Prior to being in a relationship with you, Law does not familiarize himself with the ways of courting. Hesitantly, he approaches Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin for advice on how to woo you. Within five seconds of that decision, Law regrets it as the trio begin to pester him with the details of your affair. He knows they mean well, but he can't help his annoyance. "You can't go wrong with flowers and chocolates, Captain," the trio states. He glares at them in acknowledgment, gathering the aforementioned gifts, away from prying eyes.

Law quickly learns that if he wants to make you happy, he needs to be upfront and ask you directly. He is thoughtful, tailoring his gifts toward your preferences. You do the same.

Support

Supportive. Having spent over a decade planning for Donquixote Doflamingo's downfall, Law understands what it means to be committed to achieving one's ambitions. He has nothing but belief in your ability to achieve your goals. With him by your side, he will do everything in his power to assist you. You need only ask.

Thrill

Routine. Law doesn't have the liberty to ponder over new and creative ways to show his love for you. You and him have settled into a comfortable routine. If you're feeling neglected, he expects you to be direct with him. He's not opposed to trying out new things to spice up your relationship; however, he's not a creative man so you should expect to be the one to initiate and propose new ideas.

Understanding

Law is an observant man. He understands you as a person, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what motivates you. He also has an exceptional memory and has made it a point to remember your favorites and your least favorites as they come up in conversation.

Having experienced pain and grief through losing his loved ones, Law is especially empathetic to those who have suffered the same fate.

Value

Above all else. The love Law has for you is different to the love he has for his crew—his nakama. He loves you above all other things in his life. He is reckless, but knowing that you love him and will never forgive him for being negligent with his life makes him value himself more.

You are worthy of his love, but often times, he thinks to himself, is he worthy of yours?

Wild Card

Law enjoys brushing your hair. He loves the feel of your silky smooth hair and the way you hum in contentment under his care. His hands are always so gentle as he grasps your hair, treating you with a delicacy one can expect from a pirate handling their most prized treasure, which adds to the intimacy of the act.

XOXO

Law is not overly affectionate. Prior to being with you, he was touch-starved. Expect to be the first to initiate intimacy. Kissing and cuddles took some time to get used to. But once that period passes, Law does not hesitate to initiate romance by trailing kisses along your neck, playing with your hair, and feeling your smooth skin beneath your clothes. He prefers the privacy of his quarters when showing you any sort of physical affection.

Yearning

On the surface, Law hides his yearning for you well. During times of separation, he thinks of you as he lies in bed. He thinks of your warmth, your body heat combined with his as you snuggle against each other underneath the comfort of your bed. He thinks of your lips, curled up in a carefree smile, turning into subdued laughter. He returns your mirth with a smile of his own. He thinks of your face and how much he wants to caress your cheeks, feel the smooth skin beneath the roughness of his fingertips. He misses how your face would warm up in response to his touch, how you lean into him, eager for more. He reaches out instinctively, before realization kicks in. You weren't here. He misses you.

Zeal

Law is willing to go to great lengths for your relationship. He's grieved so much at such a young age from losing his mother, father, Lami, and Cora-san. His life is yours. He'll be damned if anyone stands in the way of him and you.

#one piece #trafalgar law #alphabet fluff #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece writing #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #mywriting

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futuremrsreid · 3 years

Text

Baby Steps

Request: @gubswh0re requested: "hi! could you do 20,25 & 48 from the promt list all in one? would be amazing, thank you!!"

Summary: A case gone wrong and Spencer blames himself. Reader tries to make him feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid x reader

Category: hurt/comfort, angst, a bit of fluff if you never felt happiness before

CW: sad as fuck uhm I lowkey broke my own heart but its also really sweet

Word Count: 1,9k

If I had to describe Spencer Reid handling his emotions in two words, they would be “quiet suffering”. In the two years I have known him he only opened up a handful of times. Not in the sense of him never talking about his past or things that happened to him, but whenever he talked about these things, he tells them like one of his facts. He tells you that his mother has schizophrenia, but he doesn't tell you how he feels about it. It always reminds me of a medical anamnesis.

On rare occasions, he would break. Everything became too much, even for him. I remember the first time I witnessed it very clearly. It was after he visited his mom for a few days and, from what he told me, she was in such a bad condition that she didn’t even recognize him. He was devastated and when he was on his way back he drove straight to my apartment, not knowing how to deal with everything. Spencer didn’t call or text before he arrived there and saying I was surprised when I opened my door doesn't even come close. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks. Truth be told, I was very overwhelmed so I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled him inside and hugged him as hard as humanly possible.

In the office everyone always jokes about Dr Reid and his fear of human touch, but he hugged me back so hard that breathing became just a little difficult, and in that moment I realized the reason he doesn’t hug people isn’t because of his fear of bacteria. It’s because of the closeness of it. My heart cracked then.

The next discovery I made was that Spencer is a quiet cryer. I didn’t even notice it until his tears started seeping through my shirt and I could feel the wetness. I don’t know how long we stood there, but when I could feel him calming down a bit, I pulled away just enough to be able to look at him. He was extremely embarrassed and started to pull away completely to cover his face with his hands, but I’m too stubborn for that, so I grabbed his wrists and made him look at me. He started crying again then.

It took an hour until he started telling me what got him so upset and after that we talked the whole night, about his mother, her sickness and everything related to it. I always hoped that he would open up about it eventually, but when he finally did, I couldn’t handle it very well. I tried not to cry myself, but that is hard when the person you love most breaks down in front of you like that.

That night I held him close, let him lie on my chest, played with his hair - everything to try and make his pain go away. And after that day I thought things would have changed, that he would stop hiding and open up more to me, but I was very wrong. When he woke up the next morning he apologized about a hundred times and no words or reassurance made him less ashamed. Afterwards he tried to act like nothing had ever happened.

So in conclusion: I had done a lot of difficult tasks in my life, but getting Spencer Reid to talk about his feelings was by far the most difficult. Nonetheless, today was one of those rare days.

We just came back from a really shitty case that resulted in more victims than it should have due to the police department holding back evidence. It was messy and frustrating and exhausting. Spencer was there when one of the victims was shot and he blamed himself for not preventing it, even though we all told them that there was no chance that he could have done it.

And as if the case itself wasn't bad enough, we were stuck for more time back in the office to do the paperwork. When the clock turned 8 pm Hotch came out of his office to tell us to go home. We all sighed in relief and started packing up our things. All of us except a particular dr. He was still sitting at his desk, typing away on his computer. I watched him for a while, contemplating what to do, and after everyone said their goodbyes, I walked over to him.

“Come on. I’ll take you home”, I said, leaning on his desk trying to catch his eyes with mine. No luck.

“I still have work to do, I’ll take the subway home later.” He continued typing like i wasn’t even there and I got frustrated. The case was already bad enough and I would not stand here watching him torture himself.

“That wasn’t a request, Spencer.” I didn’t intend to sound so harsh but hey, at least it made him look at me. “We are gonna leave. Now.” He opened his mouth to protest and closed it again, he knew better than to argue with me. My eyes said it all: If he would stay, I would stay. And since Spencer Reid cares about everyone but himself, he closed his computer and packed up his things.

The walk to my car was quiet, and so were the first 5 minutes of driving. I kept glancing at him from the driver's seat, but he was looking out of the window, lost in thought. The guy on the radio made a stupid comment and normally he would have immidiatly complained, but it seemed like he didn’t even hear it. His brain is a beautiful place with a million facts and ideas, yet I can imagine how scary it can be as well. When Spencer gets really lost in his thoughts he begins to spiral and I can just guess that that is what happened at that moment. Only then I came to the conclusion that he wanted to stay and work because that would distract him from anything going on inside.

“Talk to me, Spence.” My tone was pleading, practically begging at this point.

“I’m fine, y/n.” I sighed. I was thinking about just letting it go, but then I thought about him alone in his apartment, stuck in this beautiful scary brain of his. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. I took a deep breath. If you're lost, stick to what you know.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”, he turned to me with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Do you trust me?”, I asked again, looking him in the eyes this time.

“Of course I trust you. Why are you even asking me this?”

“We’re making a detour. I’m gonna show you something.” My words didn’t leave room for questions so we just fell silent again. He continued to watch me with a questioning look, but i tried to ignore him. I was too focused on taking the right turns anyway. It was hard to find my way in the dark, but 5 minutes later we were there. I got out of the car and waited for Spencer to do the same and after he did, he seemed more confused than ever. I walked over to the familiar building and fished for a key at the same moment.

“What is this place?”

“It’s an art gallery. My mom used to work here.” I found what I was looking for and started to unlock the door.

“And you just have a key to this place?” If the circumstances were different, I would have laughed at his confusion, however, the circumstances weren’t different.

“Yep.” The door opened and I looked for the light switch. “Come on, just follow me.”

I led us up the 5 flights of stairs and then, after 2 more doors we were finally there. The place that has been the only place I called home for the years before I joined the team.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? We’re not breaking in right now, are we?” At this I did laugh. I stepped further onto the rooftop.

“Relax Spence, we are not breaking any laws.” He was still hesitant so I took his hand and pulled him to the edge. The railing was high, meaning there was no danger of falling down. I let go of his hand and leaned on it. The building was on a small hill and since it had a few stories, you were able to look over a big part of the city. It was always a beautiful view, but that night was extra special. It was a Friday in the late summer, which didn’t only mean the sky was clear, there were also a lot of traffic lights and buildings that shone bright.

I just watched and after a few minutes Spencer stood beside me and did the same. Some time passed before I broke the silence.

“How many people are living in the US?” He didn’t hesitate before answering. It was like a reflex for him by now. I liked to ask random questions all the time and to this day, he always had an answer.

“331.002.651 people.” I paused for a few seconds.

“You can’t protect all of them, Spencer.”

“Y/n I-”

“I mean it, Spence. It is humanly impossible to protect everyone. You can protect some of them, maybe even a lot, but you won’t ever be able to do that if you keep beating yourself up over incidents like today.” He sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but I wasn’t done. “I know how you feel and I know it’s not easy. There was no chance for you to save that girl, Spencer. Zero. And if you can’t accept that, you will lose yourself. And then you won’t be able to save anyone anymore.” I know it was harsh, however, sometimes that's the only language he understands.

“You could have said all of that in the car.” He paused. “Why did you take me here?” I didn’t expect him to comment on what I said. He knew I was right, that’s all I needed.

“My mom sometimes took me with her on her shifts and after she was done we would go up here. After she died the owner gave me a key so that I could come here every time I needed it. Or needed her.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Not anymore. This place was the only thing making me feel at home for years and I came almost every day, but when I started working at the BAU I stopped going here more and more. And now I don’t really need it anymore, because my apartment finally started feeling like home. Especially when you are there.” I looked at him while saying that last sentence and I saw him smile for the first time in days. His eyes caught mine.

“Thank you, y/n.” Those words could have many different meanings. Thank you for taking me here. Thank you for staying. Thank you for making me feel better. But it didn’t matter what he meant, because I knew.

“Do you want to go home?”

“I think I’d like to stay for a bit longer.”

And that's what we did. We stayed there for hours. That night we talked through every possible way of how Spencer could have acted differently, yet every scenario ended with the death of that girl. After that he finally accepted that it wasn’t his fault. Baby steps.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #reider #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #this one hurt ngl

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Hello, this is the first time I’ve come here and I’d like, if possible, you could place my order, I don’t remember if I already placed that ask or something, so if yes, sorry to bother you...

I can order something with Yandere! Vampire with a Vampire Slayer! Reader, please...

Welcome in!

Well yes boo, you did make a very similar request, and I'm sorry if it took me like a long time to answer you (at least to me it feels like a whole month has passed, time has been so slow and so fast somehow-) it's just that I'm dealing with a lot of stuff outside of Tumblr and although I try to not think about it, it does affect my performance in writing. Also you're not bothering me at all boo!

Also I just realized something, normally when I write I put really mean remarks about the reader but it's not supposed to be taken seriously by you guys, as it's mostly either an look into the perspective of the ocs (normally the bullies who are very mean and cruel-) or even an exaggeration on the reader's current mind state (if the reader feels dumb about a certain action they have chosen, I try to make them sound very exaggerated since I don't want any of you to take it personally, y'all are beautiful okay? Don't worry about the snarky comments and rude remarks that I may write).

I'll try to make it more obvious that it's mostly a character's exaggerated perspective next time, or maybe put trigger warnings about degrading language/mean comments.

TW/Tags: mentions of addiction (to blood) // male x male // male reader // vampy vamp // monster(vampire) x (human)reader // mentions of death // unofficial OC/just a random character I decided to create for this specific piece // captivity/kidnaping // mentions of torture/infliction of pain // mind control/gaslighting/manipulation and stockholm syndrome // being drugged/poisoned // kinda sadistic but not so much so cause I like giving y'all some softness.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

True love is found in small bites [Yandere!M!Vampire x M!Vampire Hunter!Reader - Headcanon]:

Who doesn't like a little one on one with an immortal creature in a fight filled with sexual tension? Who wouldn't want to prove their worth to their dad who is a lonely vampire hunter?

Your dad had hunted vampires all by himself for years now and he won't stop until the day he drops dead, or at least that's what he told you.

He taught you everything that you needed to know, and honestly- You probably know a lot more than some of the guys who are paid to do this every month, Hell, your dad hunts them basically every week! That's kinda the reason why he won't accompany you this time, too busy dealing with vampires in a neighboring village, some rumours of some high profiled vampires coming into your hometown… He was very concerned for your safety before deciding that whenever these rumours were true or not, he needed to check them for himself regardless.

You decided to go on a hunt on your own, hunt one down and prove to your man that you'll do just fine all by yourself.

However, you have the knowledge from the books you read and from what your father taught you, but you don't have personal experiences in fighting vampires. So that's why you're finally going to take down a vampire all by yourself.

It took you some time to find the right target, but after hearing complaints about some odd things happening in the less wealthy part of town, you thought you had a pretty clear picture of what happened. You thought that maybe some vampires have been attacking the poorest people in town to not cause a bigger panic in the population, and sadly enough, you were right.

Apparently the vampirism started to spread uncontrollably as the newly transformed vampires weren't accustomed with the new malevolent power. Some would get addicted to blood and to the power they hold against humans, and start to bite more than what they can chew on.

You found someone who was acting suspiciously, a commoner who was acting more aggressively towards his neighbors and family, he had created a lot of enemies in only a couple of days after being transformed, as he was now acting like "royalty" surrounded by peasants. The poor bastard was out of his mind, and sadly you needed to take care of him before he would hurt more people.

The work of a vampire slayer (or at least, one who works on their own accord) isn't as glamorous or "pleasant" as most may think, it involves you constantly questioning yourself and your morals, the guy you're hunting has a family but from what you heard and from what you have seen as you observed him from afar- He is clearly gone, consumed by the addiction of human blood, he would end up hurting his own family if you didn't intervene.

You had to stalk him for basically the whole day, collecting information and waiting for a good opportunity to strike him- Sadly enough, you didn't know that someone else was also interested in killing him.

It was pretty quick now that you think about it- You were about to tackle him when someone else got to do it before you. You didn't know about vampire society's inner relationships but you are aware that there is some form of hierarchy, and that those who were transformed into vampires were considered to be closer to the bottom than those who were born into it. The bottom of their social structure being those who they could all feed on, so in other words humans.

As you have already prepared yourself to attack the blood addictic, this guy who seemed to have come out of nowhere has already noticed that he wasn't alone, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself at this point and running wouldn't be an option considering how fast he moved.

The only option was left was to fight this vampire who was clearly way too powerful for your newbie ass. It was a pretty tough fight, and even if you have lost- You did manage to prove that you weren't just a random human who found themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong time.

You were very well prepared- Idris was pretty impressed by your resistance, but from his eyes, you were lacking a lot in the intelligence department. You were a good brawler, but not a decent vampire slayer by far- He would question you about your level of skill constantly, even mocking the idea of you being an "newbie" at this job.

Idris had won in the end, making you his prisoner who he would bring back to his clan to be used as an easy food source while also giving them info about other vampire slayers. Of course you wouldn't give them anything, no matter how bad your situation was you would still fight to the very end.

Idris had used one of his abilities to bring you two to his clan's hideout in a blink of an eye, you weren't expecting it to be so quick. You were tied up and inside an "abandoned" mansion filled with vampires, you were sure you wouldn't survive this at all- Yet you had promised yourself to not give them any information about other vampires slayers, especially your father.

You have met them, all of them- All of the Nox clan of pure vampires (or at least the last of them), in one single place. They were all so eager to jump in and start the "fun" with you. To torture you, drink from you, control your mind so you would spill all that you know, they tried to but you wouldn't stop squirming and fighting their touch- However, your attitude has only helped to aggravate them.

Idris was in charge of taking care of you- And by that they meant he was the one who would be screwing with you the most. He would keep you alive with your bare necessities but would also be the one to punish and torture you to speak up.

Interestingly enough, Idris wasn't interested in violently taking the truth out of you- Oh no, boo- He was much more sadistic than that.

He saw you as a plaything, like a cat he would see you as something he should toy with before devouring- He would try to push you to your limits verbally, trying to trigger some sort of wound you may have. You were stronger than he assumed, he should have known you weren't so dumb to give in to his insults and threats.

He would still bite you though, hey, a man needs some blood before continuing his private interrogation, right? It's not his fault you're both his snack and the one being interrogated.

You were strong minded, you weren't feeling too awful about being taken as a prisoner, since you felt as if deep down you could still escape this- So the effects of the poison that he would inject on you weren't showing up at first, but after sometime of being under this terrible living condition with only him to talk with, you started to feel some type of weird way around him.

It could be the poison finally taking over, but you have started to notice some… Particular choices that Idris took when interacting with you. Again- It could be all some magic shit in your mind, but you could swear that the lingering touches from him weren't rough or painful as his threats.

Idris was never physically harmful towards you, even to his peers dismay as they would constantly scold him for being too soft. He was indeed very off putting and sadistic- But could he be hiding something deep inside his literally cold exterior? You started to think so… Well, you started to hope so.

See, although the poison is already making your mind dizzy and making you feel some kind of weird attraction towards Iris- It wasn't completely just your mind playing tricks on you, Idris has been trying a new tactic with you and it was working.

Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but for the last few weeks he has started to flirt with you more, touch you more and whisper less concerning things into your ears, and you were eating it all up due to your isolation and his poisonous bite.

The more he sucked your blood, the more enamoured you were with his softer "side", the poison becoming stronger with each bite. But everyday you two spend time together, Idris can't help but feel just as interested in you as you are to him. He may play it off as a sadistic manipulative (which he kinda is-) vampire who is above you and his own feelings- But whenever it's just you and him, he just feels like there is a bigger connection being formed.

The more you two get to know each other the more he'll start falling for you, to the point he doesn't know if he is faking empathy and care or if he actually likes you in a weird way. He has started to feel very satisfied whenever you start acting clingy, desperate even for his attention (again- He is the only one willing to even talk with you before biting you and sucking your blood), the sensation of power he feels is a little bit overwhelming- But very much appreciated.

You have started to feel some side effects from losing so much blood everyday, which has made Idris concerned and incapable of drinking from you for at least some time while you recover from it. But since you need some time to rest without being injected with more venom from fangs, which will cause you to start waking up from your brainwashed state and remember that A: It has been months since you were gone, your dad is out there looking for you and it's possibly thinking you're dead; B: You're trapped in a mansion filled with the last vampires of a powerful clan which has been massacred by vampire slayers like you; and C: You were starting to catch feelings for the one who brought you here- Regardless of manipulation and freaky vampire shit- You were indeed falling for his charm.

Whenever that happens, it will be obvious that you'll start trying to fight them and escape again, even if you're very, very weak from all these months without proper training and healthy eating habits.

You may try your hardest dear, but you'll need a better plan than just going feral on Idris. He is a lot stronger than you, especially since you can't even stand up on your own, and even hurting him makes you feel oddly awful- You had relied on him for so long, that it feels like you would be betraying him if you actually do hurt him, it seems like some of the effects of so much time under his manipulation are still present.

You can't hurt him, but you can still try to sneak out. You should still try to escape!

You would eventually come up with a plan to run away while it was still morning, even if it was a very flawed plan considering that the only place you knew in this entire mansion was Idris's room and bathroom. For some miracle reason, you would find a way to sneak out, it was pretty hard considering you have no strength in your legs, yet luckily no one seemed to be aware of your sudden movement around the corridors- Apparently the whole clan is composed of heavy sleepers.

Your escape was successful, but you wouldn't be able to reach safety anytime soon in your condition- And you knew that eventually they would wake up again and Idris would find you soon. Yet as you had promised yourself and your father, you weren't going down without a fight.

Idris is responsible for you, so whenever he notices that you were gone- He would first assume one of his kind has took you, but considering how everyone else in the clan considers him to be a nuisance and incompetent, he couldn't possibly ask around where were you. If he did, they would end up yelling at him and take you as their personal blood bag- He couldn't let them know that you have escaped.

He would search for you and be honest to god thankful that you weren't dead yet- He would be pissed but more concerned about your current state, after all you were supposed to be resting from losing so much blood and yet here you are: Trying to survive the wild nature around the mansion in a stupid attempt of escaping the vampires.

Idris would have to bite you more often while also giving some days off so you could rest, but doing in a way that you never lose the effects of the poison- He can't stand to see you fighting him so much.

I mean- He thinks that it's pretty attractive how fiesty you are, but he needs you to stay still in his bedroom and to start giving him those confused yet passionate eyes again- Idris doesn't know whether or not you're in love with him or is just acting in instinct considering your current position, and he soon will find himself begging for you to truly give in to this weird fantasy he has built around you two- But for now, all that he wants is the smallest affection that may come from you, even if it's not as true and morally correct as true love is supposed to be.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #yandere vampire x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere male #male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere monster #yandere headcanon #yandere oc headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 4 years

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OK so I got this idea. S/o (who's this time has to be female) is also an octo mermaid but still from another world. So s/o gets into one of the pools and they discover she's a blanket octopus (if you haven't seen a female blanket octopus they're one of the most beautiful octopus out there with their gradient colors) and they get popular af like everyone is like "wow she's such a beautiful meroctopus" Yada yada. And Azul it's mad. Part 1

Part 2. And both Jade and Floyd notice it and decide to tell s/o who is shocked and sad because they have a HUGE crush so they decided to give him a gift. Since they know he doesn't have a octopus pot they decide to make him one. After months they give it to him and confess and he's shocked and ask for their forgiveness as it isn't their fault. At the end he and s/o cuddle inside of the octo pot in their mer forms.

OMG THIS TOOK ME FOREVER!!!! I probably got this ask before thanksgiving so I am very sorry that it took me this long, HOWEVER, it is the longest oneshot I have ever written so that’s quite an accomplishment. There are photo references that go with this story as well so check those out before you read.

Warnings: Slight language, insecurities, fluff, very very minor angst, fem!s/o

Word count: 4,710

Azul x Reader: Cuddle Pot

The above images are references for the s/o’s octopus species and the octopus pot. I don’t know who the original artist is for the second so if you know please let me know so I can give credit where due.

“Wait seriously? You’re a mermaid!” Ace practically shrieks and you giggle. Placing a finger to your lips, you shush him as Deuce slaps the back of your over energetic friend’s head.

“Yes. I am a mermaid, but you can’t tell anyone yet.”

“Why not?” Jack questions. His tail flicks in confusion.

You sigh and think back to the last time anyone found out about your true form. Most of the people back in your world found merpeople to be odd and cursed. It was considered a disability and a disease. Human society often shunned what they didn’t understand. And that lack of understanding led to fear.

A boy in your old school had been your middle school sweetheart for approximately 7 months before you decided to tell him your secret. He had seemed so eager to finally go swimming with you that you had naively believed that it was all going to be fine. However when he stared at your flowey, shimmering form you felt yourself grow worried that he would no longer like you.

“Babe,” you started, leaning closer to try and grasp his face with your smooth, webbed fingers. “It’s alright. It’s just my merform. It’s going to-” He quickly slapped your hand away and stumbled back.

“F-freak, monster, disgusting. Stay away from me you animal! We’re over you deceiving B*tch!” He quickly ran away from the side of the lake where you had brought him. As dawns lovely lights sprayed your body with pinks, and soft oranges, tears slid down your cheeks and into the water below. He hated you. Oh what a fool you had been to think that he would be different, that he would love you anyway.

School had become increasingly difficult after that. Word spread fast and you were quickly isolated by everyone you had called a friend. Eventually you moved to a new place and decided that you would never love again.

This wasn’t the case however in Twisted Wonderland. You were so pleasantly surprised to find people like you, and they weren’t considered freaks because of it. It had been a shock and you quickly found yourself yearning to tell others about what you truly were. Fear had you back though. At least up until that point.

“I had a bad experience with someone I cared about back in my home world.” You stated softly. The boys looked at each other and smiled.

“Well this isn’t that world. You're good to go here since I can’t imagine anyone judging you for what you look like in this place.” Ace’s words reassured you.

“He’s right. At NRC it’s highly unlikely that you’ll be bullied because of something like this. But what are you anyway?” Deuce questioned.

You giggled and leaned in closer to the 4 people sitting at the lunch table, (5 if you included Grimm, but he already knew). “I’m an octopus.” You said with excitement and slight nervousness.

“Really? That sounds so cool!” Epel was quiet but excited when he spoke up for the first time since the conversation started. You smiled to yourself and mentally sighed in relief that the people you had next trusted with your secret didn’t view you any differently.

“Wait hold the phone. Octopus? Like Azul?” Ace pressed close enough that you could reach across with a napkin and wipe the side of his cheek that had been smeared with BBQ sauce when he scarfed his lunch.

“Yes and no, Azul is a Common Octopus, which means that he is the standard octopus you mostly see around the ocean or in pictures. Basically what you imagine when someone says Octopus. I’m a different type of octopus, one that is more rare.” You pulled out your phone while talking to bring up an image. You held the phone so everyone at the table could see.

“This is a female Blanket Octopus. We’re pretty rare but we are also one of the most beautiful kinds.”

Everyone went wide eyed and watched the screen as you scrolled through images of your fellow eight legged friends. Epel turned to you and grabbed your shoulder.

“You absolutely have to show us your merform.” Ace, Deuce, and Jack all nodded in agreement. You flushed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know guys. It would be a hassle to find a place where we could do it and I’m not sure I want anyone else seeing me. What if someone shows up and freaks out?” This time it was Jack’s turn to speak when he leaned back before smiling slightly.

“Not that I care but I personally would show up to support you if you needed it. Besides, the school pool is closed after dark. However I’m pretty sure Ruggie has snatched a copy of every key to every lock in the building.”

“Of course he has.” Deuce says rolling his eyes. “That hyena couldn’t keep his paws to himself even if his life depended on it.” You giggled but ignored the comment in favor of asking Jack if he could get the key. The wolf nodded and you told everyone to meet you by the pool at 9:30. Your friends nodded in agreement just as the bell rang.

----------

The air was humid and warm, it was perfect for a late night swim, although your clothes would likely stick to your body when you changed back. Still you shifted uncomfortably at the idea of getting in the water with what you are wearing. A pair of leggings was slipped on underneath a waterproof skirt. You had a jacket over your bikini top but per usual you were unable to wear bottoms unless you wanted them to tear. You would have to be very careful not to let the skirt go up before you shifted.

A sigh left your lips and Grimm, sensing your nervousness, rubbed up against your leg in silent comfort. Your friends were unlikely to freak out but it was still nerve wracking to think about exposing your true form to other non-merpeople. Hundreds of scenarios where something went wrong filtered through your head and promised that your anxiety wouldn’t leave anytime soon.

“BOO!” Half a shriek pierced the night before a hand clasped over your mouth.

“Shishishishishi.” You turned around in surprise and pulled the fingers away from your face.

“Ruggie! What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted. The hyena snickered again and held up one finger. He made a circular motion and a key ring twirled around in response.

“Jack said you needed to get in here. Thought I’d tag along.” The smirk on his face irritated you but you couldn’t be surprised. You should have known that having Jack of all people ask for keys to break into the pool after hours was going to raise some eyebrows. Honestly you should have just asked him to invite Ruggie along anyways. Key or no key the hyena was likely to want to know what was going on.

“Alright fine, but if you tell anyone what you saw here today, and I mean anyone, then I will hide your piggy bank from you.” Ruggie’s eyes went wide before they narrowed.

“You have my word.” You smiled knowing that you had convinced him to keep your secret despite the fact that if he really had told someone you wouldn’t have actually done more than try and punch him. Of all people you knew how precious money was in this world, considering the fact that you had none.

Footsteps alerted you to the approaching presence of your other friends. You turn

around and find Jack, Epel, Ace and Deuce walking over to you. They wave and Jack frowns when he spots Ruggie.

“What are you doing here? I thought you already gave me the key.” The hyena snickers and points towards the key Jack was holding.

“I gave you the one to the janitors closet, which I’m gonna need back by the way. I wanted to see what was going on for myself so I hung out here till Y/n came over, and then I figured it had to be interesting if she was involved. I didn’t know there was gonna be a crowd though.” He looked at you, “This must be one hell of a surprise if you got all the first years here.”

Deuce pointed out that Sebek was a first year as well but the hyena shrugged it off saying “he doesn’t count as a student since he’s basically just a guard.” You figured that was Leona’s opinion and Ruggie agreed.

“Guys it’s already late and I don’t wanna get caught so let's go in already.” Everyone nodded and Ruggie opened the gate.

Carefully you unzipped your jacket as you walked over to the bench. The water appeared calm and undisturbed, allowing a clear view of the illuminated bottom which was surprisingly clean considering teenage boys flung about in the water all day.

You sighed and shrugged the jacket off before stepping out of your shoes. Setting down the bag with your extra clothes you mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen.

Ruggie leaned closer to Jack and whispered something you didn’t catch but Jack’s response of “You’ll see.” was enough to tell you what had happened. Pushing your anxiety out of the way you lowered yourself into the pool, sighing as the cool water licked your skin. Giving yourself a moment to relax you let your worries leak into the water around you. You had always felt better in the water. It’s a merfolk thing.

“Are you guys positive you won’t freak out?” You called to the edge of the pool where your friends were standing.

“Not unless you grow 10 heads.” Ace sniggered until Epel elbowed him. You rolled your eyes and looked suspiciously over to Ruggie who still had no idea what was going on.

“No promises.” You sighed, but smiled when Jack nodded at you, signaling that it would be alright. Who were you kidding Ruggie was a hyena man who grew up in the slums. What did he care? Feelings of worry taken care of, you sunk deeper into the water and closed your eyes.

The feeling that comes with shifting is always a little strange. It’s almost like your skin has been turned to putty and it is remolding itself and when it reaches the desired outcome it snaps back into place and holds like it has been that way the whole time.

Once you felt the transformation had completed you righted yourself in the water and peeked an eye open to look at your friends. Ace and Epel had their mouths wide open in a gasp. One that quickly turned into a smile. Jack looked as though he had just witnessed a miracle and Deuce was still in shock. Ruggie’s reaction was by far the most extravagant. His eyes were wide and his mouth was curved into a questioning gape. He had taken several steps back and his ears lay flat on his head. Behind him his tail bristled and stood fairly straight, pushing up the too large shirt.

You bit your lip and examined their faces trying to come up with a conclusion to what they were feeling.

“That… Is so cool!” Ace blurted out excitedly and ran over to the pool's edge to get a closer look. Deuce and Epel followed him and Jack trotted over as well, but not before snorting at Ruggie. The hyena man looked your form up and down and took in the swirling shades of color that decorated your now sea creature bottom half. He made a small noise before shaking himself and casually patting down the fur on his tail, which was still tense but not as much.

“Ok, of all the things I’ve seen. That, I was not expecting.” You giggled at Ruggie’s flustered reaction and felt yourself relax now that you knew pitchforks and torches weren’t coming out.

The hyena moved closer to the pool and joined your other friends who were staring at you in awe. You blushed uncontrollably as you felt their gazes roam your colorful body. Decorative markings that spread up to your collarbone changed to a darker shade with your blush.

“So like can I touch you?” Deuce smacks his hand against Ace’s chest and gives him this look that says “dude you can’t just say that''. You giggle and glide closer to them before lifting your arm which was for the most part pretty human, but had a lavender shade to it and a long silky strip of webbing that shimmered as it moved. The longest tentacle on your body rose out of the water as well and you shivered as the webbing stuck together in an uncomfortable manner.

Ace leaned forwards and stroked your arm and tentacle. His eyes were filled with curiosity and wonder. Deuce looked a little more unsure but Epel had no problem reaching out and gently caressing your webbing. Ruggie joined him and Deuce eventually stuck his hand out to stroke your arm, but Jack held back and decided that ultimately he only wanted to look.

“Wow! This stuff is so soft!” Epel said excitedly. He was generally pretty quiet so you were glad he was comfortable enough to speak out.

“It’s so colorful. If we had silks this pretty in the savannah then we’d have lots of money. Say, where could I find more of your kind.” Ruggie’s smirk told you that he was just joking but you glared at him anyways and flicked water his way.

The hyena flinched and shook his head before laying his ears back and moving away from the water. Jack and Ace laughed at the antics before Ruggie growled playfully and distracted them from what had happened moments before.

It was then that Ace leaned a bit too far forwards and fell straight into the pool. You jumped and swung your tentacles back, instinctively spreading them out to make yourself look bigger.

You willed your body to relax as you recovered from the little panic attack and laughed when Ace’s head bobbed to the surface. He sputtered and swam over to the edge and climbed out of the pool. He lay on the concrete and breathed heavily while the boys around him cackled. Ace glared and stood up.

“You jerks I’ll show you how you like it.” Deuce shrieked as Ace shoved him into the water. You laughed with everyone else as Deuce came up for air. Sensing a sudden threat of being pushed into the water Ruggie backed up against the gate and watched as Jack pushed Epel in before diving in himself. The five of you giggled and splashed as Ruggie snickered at your antics.

You were so glad your new friends didn’t mind your merform. Even better, they really liked it. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you dived down to swim with your friends. As the five of you splashed and played with Ruggie distracted with your antics, none of you noticed a dark form smirk in the bushes. Nor the click of the camera that he had with him.

----------

The next day was a nightmare. Apparently someone had spied on you and your friends and photographed you in your merform. People swarmed you asking you all sorts of questions. It was difficult to just get through the halls. Luckily none of the people who stopped and talked to you had anything unkind to say and the stares you received were more curious than malicious but it was still an uncomfortable situation to be in.

For the most part people who knew you were pretty considerate about your space and privacy. Cater seemed absolutely thrilled to know that you were an octopus but only asked if you were alright with everything going on, instead of bombarding you with questions.

Kalim was a little more enthusiastic about the whole situation. Jamil ended up apologizing for him and pulling him away. Vil and Rook subtly commented on your merforms beauty before moving on. Diasomnia rarely came near you but Lilia gave you a sympathetic smile. Trey offered you a few baked sweets as he sensed that you were overwhelmed and as for everyone else you had yet to see them.

The person you were most worried about seeing though was Azul. He was an octopus merman like you, yet you had never seen his merform. Unless you counted his overblot the only time you had seen him in full shift was in the picture you had borrowed from the museum.

He and the Leech twins will probably have an absolute field day over the fact that you’re also a mertype. You worried what Azul was going to think of you hiding it. Over the past few months you had developed a crush on him. You had a plan to confess and everything, but now that the secret was out you were worried that he wasn’t going to like you for keeping it from him. In truth you planned on telling him first, but figured there was no harm in letting your other friends know. Turns out there was and the whole school knew.

Trapped in your thoughts, you failed to notice the two approaching twins and bumped into them as you turned around a corner.

“Hiii~ Shrimpy-chan~!” Floyd’s ever changing mood seemed to pleasant as he greeted you with a smile and not a squeeze.

“Hello, Y/n. How are you today?” Jade's gentleman persona greeted you but failed to hide the questions and mischief in his eyes.

“Just say it already. I know you two already know.” You sighed and watched their faces light up with excitement. Floyd grabbed your arm and took off, dragging you behind him. “Wait!” Soon the three of you arrived at an empty classroom which you were promptly shoved in before the tweels followed, shutting the door behind them.

“Y/n, my apologies for Floyd’s exuberant behavior, but we have been meaning to speak with you in private since the most recent exposure of your true nature.” Jade was calm and collected as always when he spoke and gently fixed your crumpled uniform which had been shifted while running.

“Shrimpy-chan! We have something to tell you!~” Floyd sing-songed before sitting on a desk.

“What? Wait what is it? And where’s Azul? Wouldn’t he want to speak with me too? If this is about a deal the answer is no.” You folded your arms in front of you and put distance between yourself and the seemingly respectful brother. The twins looked at eachother and you caught a glimpse of something passing through their eyes before Floyd pouted.

“Aww, what’s wrong with making deals with us? We promise to be real nice this time and not leave you homeless. You could stay with us at Octavinelle!” You rolled your eyes as Floyd giggled and swung his long legs despite the fact that they could easily reach the floor from his seat.

“The truth is, Azul is jealous.”

“What!” You turned and exclaimed at Jade’s statement. The tall mage nodded and continued with a strange look on his face like he wasn’t bothered by this at all.

“You are far more beautiful than him in your merform and he is bothered by it. Everyone has always shunned him for his octopus body and now you present yourself as one and everyone goes wild with excitement over your gorgeousness. Something he believes to never have possessed.”

You were stunned. Azul was jealous of you. He was upset because you were more beautiful than him. No. You wanted him to love you, not be bothered by you. Why hadn’t you thought of Azul’s insecurities. He just wanted to be an attractive merman and here you were, the same mertype as him and you were advertising your beauty to the world where he had to hide his away due to the fact that he was insecure.

Not bothering to say a word you quickly left the room and raced down the hall. You needed to fix this as soon as possible. Otherwise Azul might not like you ever again. Two pairs of mismatched eyes watched your retreat and shone with anticipation.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“Not long Floyd. Luckily she was already prepared before we released the picture.”

----------

Azul was so over this whole thing. He had rewatched the video and looked at the pictures about 20 times. You were so gorgeous and graceful in your merform; it just made him frustrated that he couldn have been admired for his tentacles. They were simple and slimy so most people hated them yet you were swathed in colorful silks that attracted every creature in the ocean. While most would swim by him or threaten to eat him, any sea animal that came across you would be hypnotised by your beauty.

The worst thing about you being an octopus is that it gave him one more reason to tell himself that you will never love him. He was so drab and you were well amazing. Of all the creatures in the sea you had to be a blanket octopus. If you had been a simple mermaid or even better a common octopus like him then surely he would have a chance with you at least.

A sudden knock on the door startled the mage and he stood quickly to make sure he looked alright before answering the door. You stood anxiously as he opened the door and grabbed his wrist before he had the chance to shut it. Surprisingly, Azul offered no resistance as you dragged him to the entrance of the aquarium.

Octavinelle’s aquarium had two sections, one was for regular fish and the other sea creatures that were on display from the mostro lounge. The other was for the residents. Any and all merfolk could use the aquarium if they felt homesick or separated from their true forms. This was where you chose to place the gift you had made.

Coming to a stop you turned and looked at Azul. He looked confused and excited at the same time. You took this as a good sign.

“Azul. Will you swim with me?” The merman’s eyes widened and he stood there processing your request for nearly a minute before responding.

“Sure.”

Giddy with glee you quickly leapt into the water and shed your clothes before transforming. Rising to the surface you looked up at him from just underneath the surface and he peered back at you.

Strange. He thought for sure he would feel angry again when he saw you but the darling flush on your face and how you were genuinely happy to swim with him gave him another feeling all together. It bubbled inside of him and made him blush as he slowly lowered himself into the cool water beside you.

It had been a while since Azul had consciously shifted so he was a bit worried that he would do it too fast or slow and something would go wrong. Fortunately he was able to shift without incident. Once shifted he suddenly felt very self conscious. As a common octopus he was far more simple and plain compared to your swirling and colorful body.

You didn’t seem to mind however as you twirled and circled around Azul excitedly.

“Come on I have something to show you.” Azul frowned in confusion but followed you regardless. You led him to a sort of grove area that he had never seen before. It was very well hidden but gorgeous as well.

You looked back at him excitedly and pushed through the sea vines to an open area where a ray of sunlight fell across and illuminated the gift you had spent months on. Azul’s jaw dropped when he laid eyes on the octopus pot that sat in the middle of the small room.

The base was grey and made of some type of stone. Around it sat lavender pillars and corals that surrounded the base except for the entrance. The round opening was smoothed and carved in a delicate design that resembled sea coral. Behind it sat a dark velvet cloth that was tied back with a golden rope.Azul assumed that was to block the entrance or allow for privacy.

The inside was decorated with lavish pillows in all sorts of cool shades. They were illuminated by a small yet classy lamp that hung off to the side. The outside of the pot was for the most part smooth and grey with a few purple undertones, but off to one side there sat a carving that resembled the waves and water foam, on top off which held a large pearl that glinted in the sunlight. On the other side a darker grey octopus clung to the top portion of the pot and spread its tentacles out in an elegant manner. Azul took note that the few that rose off the pot appeared to be for hanging things and one looked suspiciously like it was meant to support a staff.

You floated in place for what felt like hours as you waited for Azul to react. You reminded yourself to stay patient as he might not respond to it immediately. When he finally did react he did so without words. He simply pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows. You nodded excitedly before bowing your head bashfully.

“I’m so sorry that I upset you Azul. I never meant for it to get out in the first place. I was actually planning on telling you first and then giving this octopus pot to you since I know you don’t have one. Then things got messed up and everything and I’m so sorry. I think you’re beautiful in your merform and I hope you’ll accept my apology.” Your face burned when you spoke and you swished your tentacles nervously.

“What?” You looked up when Azul spoke and saw confusion on his face. “I’m not upset at you. It’s not your fault you’re beautiful. Besides I could never be upset at you, octopus or not. I was distraught because I thought you were so amazing and I’m so plain and that there was no chance that you’d like me back.” You gasped and watched as his face slowly turned pink.

He dove into the pot and curled up, mentally berating himself for letting that slip. Shocked you glided over to the entrance of the pot and leaned your head in.

“Azul. Do you mean that? Do you really like me?” He didn’t respond, you took a deep breath and admitted your own feelings. “Well I like you so…” His head snapped up and he let his expression grow into an ecstatic smile before coughing into his fist and composing himself.

“Well in that case, do you want to come in and lay with me?” Azul ignored the fact that his face felt like it was on fire and waited as you giggled and moved in beside him.

“I’d love to. What do you think of the pot?” The merman smiled gently at you and spoke as he curled his tentacles around you and yours, him.

“It’s exquisite. I couldn’t love it more. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” You muttered and flushed at the surprised and impressed look on his face. He shifted closer to you and gripped your hand with his.

“You did an excellent job. Thank you.” Your fingers intertwined with his and you pressed your forehead against his.

“I love you Azul.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I love you Y/n.” He spoke before shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth that spread through the pot. You’re silky webbing fell across the two of you like a blanket and after a stressful morning Azul allowed himself to slip into a comfortable sleep.

----------

Two pairs of heterochromatic eyes watched the two octopus merpeople sleep soundly inside the pot and smirked with wicked teeth.

“How did you know she was an octopus as well?”

“Floyd, surely you must have noticed. They both smell like takoyaki.” The eels laughed and quietly zipped away, leaving the octopus pot behind.

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Text

Locked Out

winter prompts day 10 ❄️ lost in a storm

If Jaskier was a stupider man, he'd be confused about the sheer amount of times he and Geralt seem to be getting stuck places together. But he and Geralt had been the first to arrive and these things only started happening after both Eskel and Lambert had reached the keep. Jaskier can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that none of this is an accident.

Unfortunately for him, Jaskier also knows why it's happening. Witchers can smell all sorts of stupid, inconvenient shit, one of the more prominent (and most inconvenient) of those being the changes in human emotion. Meaning that if Jaskier wants to keep his feelings to himself, he has to try very hard to do so. And he discovered almost as soon as the other Witchers showed up that he is terrible at it. The only conclusion he can come to is that between the four of them, they've come to the (albeit correct) conclusion, that Jaskier is hopelessly in love with Geralt, and set themselves to the task of getting together.

What they don't know, is that Geralt barely tolerates Jaskier at the best of times and getting them together is a lost cause. He wants to confront them about it, but he rather likes the time he gets to spend alone with Geralt, whether they're cooking or cleaning or chopping wood. Geralt is different up at the keep than he is on the Path and Jaskier likes this friendlier, more open side of him. So, as long as no one is getting hurt (himself notwithstanding) he decides there's nothing wrong with their little game. They think they're solving a problem and Jaskier gets to spend some time with his friend in a place that's comfortable for him.

Then, one day, they're all gathered in the main hall. Vesemir has long grown tired of Geralt and Lambert's bickering and has retired to his room or the library or wherever it is he goes when he's had enough. Jaskier is once again left alone with the younger wolves and Aiden and he's enjoying the conversation, but he finds himself tuning out more and more often tonight, wondering what it was like to grow up in a place like this.

He knows it was very different then, that there were many more Witchers who called Kaer Morhen home, but he doesn't dare ask more than that. He's gleaned enough from the little bits and pieces from Geralt to know that his childhood was not a happy one and if he's happier here now, Jaskier doesn't want to stir up bad memories.

Jaskier doesn't realize he's staring at Geralt until Lambert nudges him. He shales his head and turns around to a very smug look.

"Aiden's gonna grab drinks," Lambert says, "why don't you and Geralt go get more firewood while we settle up in here." Jaskier nods obediently, casting a quick look in Geralt's direction to see if he suspects anything. Geralt just sighs as he rises to his feet. Jaskier follows suit and traipses after Geralt toward the large doors.

They've only been outside a couple of seconds when Jaskier hears the doors click shut behind them and the sound of the lock being slid across. He spins on his heel immediately and Geralt takes a few steps back, pressing on the door, to no avail.

"You can come back in when you figure your shit out!" Lambert calls through the door. Jaskier can hear them mumbling afterward, but it's too quiet to hear properly. Geralt sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Idiots," he mumbles and turns back to Jaskier. He seems surprisingly calm, but Jaskier feels immediately guilty. This is his fault. He shouldn't have let the game go on for so long and now they're stuck out in the cold until, well, until Lambert and his cohorts decide that they've figured their shit out - something Jaskier knows won't happen.

Fuck. He should have talked to Eskel when he had the chance. He knows Eskel would have listened, that he wouldn't want to force Geralt into something he's uncomfortable with. He might have even talked to Lambert and Aiden about it, gotten them to call it off as well, but Jaskier had been greedy. He had wanted too badly to spend time with Geralt that he hadn't considered things might get out of hand, and now they have.

All at once, he realizes the only way to solve this is to own up to his own feelings. Maybe it will make Geralt uncomfortable for a little while and maybe he won't want to travel with him any longer, but it's his fault for not saying something earlier. Now, it's the only thing he can do to fix this.

He turns to try to explain to Geralt, but when he does, Geralt is smirking back at him.

"Bastards," he mumbles, "what do you say we beat them at their own game?"

Jaskier, stunned, just looks at him.

"I-" if that's what Geralt wants, how could Jaskier turn him down considering this is his fault. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

"Find somewhere to hide out until they come looking for us," Geralt smirks. Jaskier finds himself at a loss. Ever since coming to Kaer Morhen, he's been continuously surprised about how much fun Geralt really could be when he was comfortable enough to let go. He finds himself agreeing without even thinking through what a terrible idea this could actually be.

"Come on," Geralt says, "we'll head up to the old watchtower and watch them from there."

It's a great idea in theory. In practice, Jaskier will be oblivious to whatever Geralt is watching and he's already wondering why he agreed to this. They barely make it down the hill before it starts to snow and Jaskier sighs to himself. He doesn't quite understand why he's feeling so bad about all of this because Geralt seems to be having a perfectly fine time with it and regularly Jaskier would be thrilled to (team up) with him, but tonight, he's still feeling a little guilty about everything.

A part of him is even hoping Geralt will turn around when the snow starts, but he doesn't and it only starts to snow more heavily. Jaskier does his best to keep up but finds he's falling behind and eventually gives up when he loses sight of Geralt altogether.

"Geralt!" he shouts and for a moment there's no response. Great, he was stupid enough to keep playing along with this and now he's going to die for it, lost and frozen in the middle of fucking nowhere.

He drops to his knees in the snow and is almost immediately hauled back up to his feet. Geralt's arm wraps around his shoulders and suddenly Jaskier is being walked forward through the snow. He has no idea if they're going in the same direction or if they've turned around, but he trusts Geralt to keep him safe.

He doesn't know how long they walk before coming upon a partial structure, half-buried in the snow. Jaskier is pushed inside and Geralt follows shortly, brushing the snow off of himself and then Jaskier. Before he can stop to consider his options, Jaskier is being tugged down into Geralt's lap and bundled up in his arms. He squirms but Geralt holds him close.

"Just... let me warm you up. You're nearly frozen." Jaskier wants to point out that it's Geralt's fault he's nearly frozen, but he's feeling more miserable than bitter.

Reluctantly, he lets Geralt hold him and hopes that he's considered warmed up sooner rather than later. He relaxes into it after a moment, but he's hyperaware of every place they touch. Geralt's hands are warm and comforting, but when they slip under the hem of his shirt, Jaskier pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I can't let you do this."

"Do... what?" Geralt asks. The expression on his face is a combination of hurt and confusion and Jaskier hates it, but he knows this is for the best.

"Treat me like this," he mumbles. "It's my fault we're in this place."

"Jaskier, I wasn't going to force you through the snow-"

"I don't mean here in this little shack, Geralt. I mean locked outside the keep in the first place." At this point, Geralt looks at him like he's speaking a whole other language and Jaskier sighs. His shoulders slump and he braces himself, but he supposes it was bound to come out at some point. It's been twenty years, after all.

"You know what they're doing, right?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shrugs.

"Being idiots."

"No." Jaskier pauses, but he can't bring himself to look up at Geralt. He's imagined telling Geralt how he feels time and time again, but he never expected it to be an apology. "Geralt they're trying to get us alone together on purpose. Because of my- because of the way I feel about you. Witchers can smell feelings or whatever, right? And I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought I was, so they've obviously figured it out. And I know they're just trying to help, but they don't realize that you don't-" he chokes on the words He's thought they dozens of times, but knowing Geralt doesn't feel the same and saying it out loud are two different things.

"Jask?" Geralt says softly and when Jaskier looks up, he's moved closer and he's smiling softly at him. "Is that why you think they're doing this?" Jaskier nods and Geralt sighs and shuts his eyes. "Jaskier, come here."

"Are you sure?"

"Jaskier."

"Okay, okay." He shuffles closer again, letting Geralt's arms wind around him. He tries not to press into him, but the hut is cold and Geralt is so warm and he smells wonderful, like leather and smoke and home and Jaskier is so worried about being so close that he doesn't realize Geralt is talking until he rests his chin on Jaskier's head.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Uh. Yes?" Geralt sighs and does something that Jaskier can only assume is nosing at his hair.

"I didn't know about your... feelings. I thought they were just fucking with me." His arms close in a little tighter and Jaskier is too confused to fight against it. Geralt chuckles softly and Jaskier is fairly certain he's actually imagining things when he feels soft lips press against his head. "If I'd known you were amenable, I would have kissed you a long time ago and gotten them off our backs."

At that, Jaskier is certain something is wrong. Geralt doesn't just say things like that. He pulls out of his arms, turning to face him.

"Are you sick?" he asks and Geralt tips forward, swiftly closing the space between them and catching Jaskier's lips in a soft kiss.

Jaskier's mind goes entirely blank and he forgets what he's supposed to do with someone's mouth against his own. Then, Geralt's thumb comes up to brush against his cheek and when Geralt deepens the kiss, Jaskier moans softly and his reflexes take over, leaning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Geralt's shoulders.

Without hesitation, Geralt winds his arms around his waist, hauling Jaskier up into his lap and leaning back against the wall. The kiss seems to last an eternity and no time at all and when Jaskier pulls away it's only because he's abruptly aware that he still needs to breathe.

"Oh," he breathes and Geralt smiles at him, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair back behind Jaskier's ear.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Me too. I suppose this means we'll have to thank the other?"

Geralt chuckles as he curls a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck and draws him close for another kiss. "Not a chance."

#geraskier #lost in a storm #rex writes #winter prompt challenge 2k20

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derailedfiction · 3 years

Text

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 2 Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader | James Barnes & Fem!Reader Word count: 6017 (sorry) Warnigns: swearing, a bit of kissing, shooting Summary: As Reader’s presence is exsposed the only way to get to Zemo is to cooperate with Sam and Bucky.

A/N: Reader is German-speaking which means that ¾ of what she says is in that language. If she speaks with Zemo, one to one, I switched to English (pls pretend it’s still German xD). Also next time I’ll put translations next to German version. It will be easier to read probably.

You grunted as you were seated on a chair, and quickly restrained with a rope around your arms and hands. You scanned the room looking for Zemo but he was nowhere to be found. As your search did not bring you any satisfactory answers, you set your eyes on the other man, expectantly.

“Was kann ich für sie tun?” you asked calmly with a nonchalant smile.

“What?” Sam looked puzzled at James, and back at you. “What does it mean?”

“She asked what she can do for you, Sam,” Zemo answered leaving the bathroom with a bottle of cologne and a towel in his hands.

“Well first of all she can tell what the hell is she doing here,” you observed the dark-skinned man with much amusement. He seemed to be quite annoyed with the situation.

“Warum ist er so verärgert?” you asked Zemo, still carefully observing Sam.

“What?” he asked again, clearly agitated that he did not understand what you were saying.

“She wants to know why you are so annoyed,” Zemo replied, spreading some cologne on his hands and then on his neck with a gentle pat.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” Sam sat down on the couch with a helpless expression.

“Wha–at?” you mocked Sam with a silent laugh. You saw a corner of the Baron’s lip went up for a moment.

“I don’t really understand why the whole world should speak English, Sam. Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch?” Zemo looked at you with a question in his eyes. A similar question was in Sam’s eyes as he desperately wanted to know what was happening.

“Nein, aber ich verstehe was er hat gesagt,” you shifted on the chair you were restrained to.

“She will not speak English, even though she understands you,” Baron translated.

“What do you want?” you felt observant gaze received from James.

“Ihn,” you pointed at Zemo with wide grin. “Ich wollte euch beide zuerst erschießen und ihn dann nehmen.

“She wants me and wanted to kill off the two of you before,” Baron replied emotionlessly.

“That would add up, she had a sniper rife literally next doors,” James said, “Who beat you up like this?” he asked after a moment, pointing at your bruised lip and a black eye.

“Die Wakandanerin. Sie dachte, ich würde sie zu Zemo fuhren. Aber dann hat sie mit dir gesprochen,” you smiled lightly towards James as you thought, it was kind of him to ask about it.

“The Wakandian did it to her as she thought she would lead her to me. Then, the Wakandian has spoken to you, James. It’s quite surprising how fast they sent somebody to fetch me.”

“Is it really?” James looked at him with disbelief. “I bargained us more time to deal with things, so no need to thank me.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo turned from the window and lightly nodded towards James, much to his dismay.

“You killed T’Chaka and now Nagel” Sam echoed, and yet Baron shrugged that information as he would an irritating fly. “How long do you follow us?”

“Seit Madripoor. Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch, Zemo,” you winked at the Sokovian with silent laugh. You were way too much enjoying this questioning.

“She was following us since our visit in Madripoor. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen, Y/N,“ he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Du war recht,” you turned your head to catch glimpse of his figure behind you. The smell of cologne he used was rather intoxicating.

“Is it me, or you two like know each other?”

“Yes, we have worked together before and as I said, I had a feeling that I saw Y/N during the party,” he answered and went to examine kitchen shelves. “She’s one of the best bounty hunters I have known, and it’s a delight that she’s hunting for me now.”

“Man, you have some strange definition of a delight…” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “Why you hunt him now?”

You fell silent for a longer moment not really wanting to tell why.

“Meine Schwester –” you started talking.

“Her sister was kidnapped and is held by someone. She will be released only in exchange for my person,” Zemo translated simultaneously, playing with a cookie on his finger. “She doesn’t know who that is. Y/N only received a video with her sister and information about what she’s supposed to do. If she cannot fulfil the expectations, her sister is going to be killed. Es tut mir sehr leid, Y/N.”

“Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es,” you felt closely examined by him and then he did something most surprising for you.

“I don’t believe she will pose any threat to our cause. I do think that she actually can be quite an asset.”

The three of you looked surprised at Zemo. Sam and James because they both thought dealing with another shady character would be too much. And you because it would make your job so much easier, just to use distraction and snatch Zemo right from their noses.

“Wunderbar! – No!” the three of you exclaimed at the same moment.

“Why not? I would get three watchmen, making sure I would not escape,” he continued undisturbed by your sudden vocalization. “Moreover, Y/N is excellent in hand-to-hand combat and is trained in any kind of weaponry.”

“I don’t even…” Sam started and put his hands in the air as if he surrendered to this whole situation. “I mean, it’s not bad to have additional pair of eyes on Zemo but is it worth it? She’s a criminal too.”

“Right now, we have bigger problems. Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” James started reading the latest news on his phone.

At that point, you stopped listening to them, as they were deliberating on the subject you were not that much familiar with. Even though Zemo offered a solution for your presence in the team, no one was willing to untie you from the chair. You sat there observing the place carefully, trying to find a perfect way to run away at some point with your prize.

You kept your gaze on Baron for a long moment. He bustled around the kitchen as if he did it every day, without a break of several years in a German prison. Of course, it was impossible for him to forget how the Avengers were responsible for the deaths of his family and yet, it was bizarre for you that he decided to cooperate with them. As you knew him from the past, Zemo would cherish the very thought of destroying this particular group of superheroes, showing them how very human they indeed were. Still, you just witnessed how Baron threw a Turkish delight towards Sam as if he were giving him a treat for a great lead to follow.

“Du starrst, Y/N,” he stated indifferently, handing you some tea.

“Danke,” you thanked him, even though you had no opportunity to drink it. “Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo?”

“Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle,” he answered you and from the look on his face you knew that Baron Zemo had already a plan.

“What are you talking about?” Sam came closer to the two of you.

“Y/N is surprised that I cooperate with someone that I swore to destroy,”

“Well, you can count me in, Y/N,” he replied as he undid the bonds. “One wrong move and you two will be handcuffed to me and James.”

“Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an,” you rubbed your wrists sightly worn from the rough rope and drank tea from Zemo.

“I’m afraid my dear friend that she rather liked that idea,” you winked at Sam coquettishly as he rubbed his face in disbelief.

“Was machen wir jetzt?”

“We are going to ask some questions about Donya’s funeral,” James answered your question, “We gotta move.”

Within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave the apartment, and since James and Sam did not want to take any chances leaving you alone, you were walking in pair with Zemo.

“Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren,” you said to your companion as you walked.

“Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles,” he replied. “Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht?”

“Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier…”

“Man, don’t you worry about what are they talking about? They could be like planning escape or something, to roll us over,” Sam said to Bucky, cautiously observing the two of you in front of him. “It’s just wrong…”

“It’s not, they’re talking about the past. She was gone after Thanos snapped,” Bucky replied quietly, trying not to give up he’s able to understand German. “She’s still quite lost after she got back.”

“Can you blame her? Or anyone in such a situation? It’s pretty fucked up…”

Bucky cracked for a moment listening to your conversation, “She just told him, she would have killed him back in Madripoor and she didn’t just because of their shared past.”

“Damn man, they have some unresolved issues under those smirks and sass.”

You turned around feeling the gazes of the two of them on your back as you were speaking with Zemo. They were walking behind you, keeping a reasonable distance, and talking about something rather lively.

“It is shame of what became of this place,” you rose your eyebrow lightly looking around the small courtyard, which wasn’t in its best condition.

“I’ll go check upstairs. You keep eye on him,” Sam went up for the next floor and you were left alone with James, as Zemo softly humming a lullaby came closer to children.

For a moment two of you stood in silence watching how Baron was approaching children, and then you asked, “Du verstehst mich, oder?”

“A little, yes,” James answered you. If he was surprised how quickly you found out about it, he didn’t show it at all.

“Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst?” you crossed your arms following James’ stare.

“He’s going back to the prison.”

“Und die Wakanderin?” you heard long sigh from him, he did not really know what to do in this situation.

“I’m not sure. Zemo is too dangerous to let him be unsupervised, or to be intercepted by a shady character, no offence.”

“Nicht genommen,” you smiled lightly.

“Now, what the hell is he doing?” Sam came closer to the two of you, seeing the idyllic conversation between Zemo and children.

“Wish you didn’t hear him sing – What?”

“Cute kids,” Zemo said as he passed the three of you heading to the exit.

As you left the CPR facility, you had a feeling that someone was observing you as four of you walked down the street back to the apartment. You observed each passing by person, sensing something was going on.

“Was ist los?”

“Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt,” you replied quickly turning around your head.

“Achtung!” just as you saw the mercenary take out the gun, you pushed Zemo away and took the bullet. A sharp pain tore your arm as you landed on the ground next to Baron looking at you surprised. “Was?”

“Warte,” he took out the knife and tear for pieces your sleeve to create a tourniquet above the wound. “Versuche es zu drücken, Y/N.”

You nodded holding your arm firmly, trying to prevent any further bleeding. On the other side of the road, James was just knocking out the assassin.

“We should move. I don’t want to take any more chances with other killers,” Sam helped you stood up.

“Und der Söldner?” you asked.

“He won’t be conscious for longer time and we will probably be somewhere else. Come.”

Four of you hastily returned to the quarters, making sure no one was following you. Sam and James armed themselves with additional weapons as they wanted to be sure you were safe in there.

“We’ll go and check whether this place is safe. You two stay here, understood?” Sam told you as he went out with James.

You stood in the middle of the room trying to gather yourself to do something with the wound you have been pressing. You took few steps towards the bar and made yourself two drinks, one of which you immediately drank.

“Now, take these, it will help with the pain.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you took the pills from Zemo and swallowed them with few sips of whiskey. “Now, if you allow, I’d like to take care of this,” you pointed at your arm wound, as you slowly went to the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

As you were finally alone without any sympathetic or wanting-to-help gazes, you sighed loudly and quite shakily. It was not your first time being shot, and honestly, you knew that having Zemo around and babysitting him for not to get killed, would mean more bullets to take.

You sat down on with tiles of the floor, observing how blood was slowly dropping on it creating a small plash. You moved your fingers carefully, trying to determine whether some muscles or tendons were damaged. It hurt badly. Burning pain ran through your whole hand up to the arm wound.

“Fuck,” you whined quietly, and you rested your head over the edge of the bath.

That was not the plan at all. At last, the pills you got were starting to work as your pulsating pain did not bother you anymore. Slowly with the biggest caution, you could have at that moment, you removed the makeshift bandage and examined the wound. It was still bleeding, rather profusely, despite the pressure band over the injury. The longer you stared at it, the more light-headed you felt.

You heard somebody opened the door and Zemo entered the bathroom. You had not had enough power to say something sarcastic about his way of respecting somebody’s privacy.

“What are you doing? I don’t need any help,” you observed Zemo as he sat next to you with a first aid kit.

“I’m not going to do anything. But you might need this if you really want to take care of the wound,” you snorted and took the kit. “Why did you do that? Why did you take a bullet for me?”

“Does it really matter?” as you heard nothing from the man, you looked up and saw Baron watching you expectantly. “I must deliver you alive if I want my sister to stay alive,” you answered hesitantly, cleaning the wound.

“It is admirable how dedicated you are to your sister, Y/N.”

“Is it though? If not her I would be free as wind getting other shady figures for actual money. Not to mention that it was not, the plan,” you scoffed and gritted your teeth as the wound began to burn hellishly.

“I would do anything to save my family.”

“I know Zemo, I know it,” you agreed looking at him softly, and then you sighed heavily. “I will need your help with it. I thought the bullet went clean through, but I can’t see any exit wound.”

“How could you not know it?” he asked in growing amusement.

“I don’t know man. I am high as kite, Zemo. I don’t really feel that much,” you looked blankly at the hole in your arm for a moment before you gave him a pair of forceps. “I will cut the wound from both sides and you have to take the bullet out, got it?” He nodded in agreement.

You proceeded with careful cuts along the edge of the wound, as precise as you could. You took a deeper breath and nodded for Zemo to try and retrieve the bullet. Even though you were on strong painkillers, it was almost impossible to not move or whine.

“Don’t move, Y/N. I almost have it,” you grabbed the bath edge firmly trying not to shift any more.

“Easy to say… Fuc–” a cry of pain escaped your mouth in the same moment as the bullet was taken out. “Oh, God that was awful. I will never get used to it. Thank you,” shakily you reached for a needle and thread to close the wound.

“Let me,” he took over the instruments and without further ado, he quickly stitched the wound and put a fresh bandage over it.

“Hey! You alive in there? We heard some screaming,” you heard Sam from the other side of the bathroom door and lightly smiled.

“Yes, it’s alright,” Zemo answered as he helped you to stand up from the floor.

“He cares, doesn’t he? Even if you did him wrong, he cares.”

“Yes, he does,” Sokovian agreed. Still supporting you, he led you to the sofa, on which you fell with relief as you were feeling more and more dizzy. “Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren.”

“Yeah, yeah, was auch immer,” you weaved him off impatiently and laid down with your feet up.

You felt absolutely awkward that you got yourself shot because you pushed Zemo to the side. It was probably one of the dumbest things you have ever done. Well, if you counted being caught by Winter Soldier, that is the other dumbest thing you did. It was not your best day at all. You heard somebody was clamouring in the kitchen pouring water into a kettle and then into small cups.

“How are you?” You looked at James, who asked you the question.

“Gut,” you replied shortly, taking the cup of tea from Zemo. You felt in fact a bit better as the medications you were given truly kicked in.

You pressed yourself deeper into the sofa with your eyes closed, trying to rest for a while. You disconnected completely from external stimuli, focusing on your breathing, and calming the heartbeat. Even though you lost some blood, you didn’t feel that bad.

Suddenly you heard the sound of breaking glass and louder exchanges. You opened your eyes and looked at Zemo surprised as the Americans went dealing with their things.

“You can’t play with others, can you?” you asked with a soft chuckle making him some space on the sofa to sit. “I know you probably have some plan but still, being followed by the Wakandians, and bounty hunters, and probably some other killers it’s not an easy thing to cope with.”

“You think I need protection?” you showed off your arm. “I don’t need any, I am perfectly able to use my mind to gain in every situation.”

“I’m just saying that playing on different fronts at the same time always ends rather badly,” you finished off your tea and put the glass on the table.

“What can I say, I am a wanted man,” you snorted lightly at his words. He was truly the most wanted man at the moment.

“What was that tea again?”

“Cherry blossom, why?”

“I feel – dizzy,” you said unsure. You looked at the glass and at him, and then back at the glass. And then it clicked. “You little –”

“Shh, mein Schätzchen,” he immediately caught your falling head and swiftly stood up, making a place for you to lay down. “You will sleep for some time.”

You felt so heavy and dizzy, you had no power to fight with him. The last thing you saw was Zemo unfolding a blanket and putting it over you.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing Sam, she just fell asleep after the pills I gave her to ease the pain,” Zemo lied without a blink of an eye and made sure you were comfortably sleeping. “We should probably move.”

***

You woke up sometime later, just as Zemo said. What he didn’t mention was an extreme headache you got as soon as you opened your eyes.

“What a fucker…” you murmured as you got up from the sofa, throwing the blanket on the side. How thoughtful, you thought ironically looking at the material.

There was no one in the apartment and as you figured out, they have probably been gone for the funeral ceremony to talk with Karli. You moaned softly, rubbing your temples in hope that the pain will go away. It didn’t do anything and bright light coming through the stained windows wasn’t especially helpful either.

You wandered around the room and kitchen to find some painkillers. You suspiciously sniffled tea in a small metal box, still remembering what Zemo did. As you thought about it, if he didn’t get into a quarrel with James all of them would be asleep and Zemo would have been far away. A perfect getaway.

“Rather shameful not to carry it to the end,” you said to yourself washing down the painkiller with a drink. But then again, it was Zemo considered so he probably saw another opportunity for him to run away.

As slowly the painkillers once again started to work, you decided to go back to your rented room and take your belongings. It was hard to guess when your company would be back and you didn’t want to risk them, at least James and Sam, discovering you were gone, and the hideout was left unsupervised. But then again, you shrugged your arms carelessly it was not your responsibility to look after it.

You poured water into a kettle and put it on the burner of the stove. I’ll be back before the water boils, you thought and took one Turkish delight on your way out.

In fact, you got back just in time to take the kettle off the heat and make some tea for yourself and you started to explore the residence in search of some clothes to change. You did not really think it would take that much time to extract Zemo. It was supposed to be a day, give, or take. The whole situation of you being captured and somehow kept hostage was not included in the plan.

You took off your torn blouse and dropped it on the floor, in search of something new to wear. You looked through one of the few wardrobes that had any clothes in it. Mostly male, but you also found a few dresses and children's clothes. As tempting as it was to wear one of the dresses, you felt it would be somehow a sacrilege to wear Zemo’s wife clothes. Instead, you chose one of his purple shirts and tried it on. It would suit you nicely if not the zip across the chest which was a bit tight, so you had to keep it slightly unzipped.

You returned to the kitchen, finding yourself extremely hungry if not ravenous. Eating more Turkish delight would do no good either, as they were extremely sweet. Rummaging through kitchen cabinets you found ingredients to make a stew and you thought everyone could eat something warm. You quickly chopped some vegetables and put them in a ceramic casserole along with meat and seasoning. Now all you had to do was to wait and control if it’s not burning.

“Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern,” you heard suddenly as you were checking up the food in the stove.

“Danke,” you kept your smile for yourself and you turned around to see three men coming in. Zemo went straight for a piece of cloth and wet it in ice-cold water, which he put over his eyes as soon as he lied on the sofa.

“I thought you would be gone, the second you wake up,” Sam was rather surprised to see you casually cooking.

“Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel,” you took out the stew out of the oven and put it on the counter.

“And you made us food?” you took four plates out of the cupboard and put them on the table along with silverware.

“Ja, warum nicht?” you were quite content of yourself as the food smelled wonderful and you took pleasure in cooking it. You missed your domestic life dearly especially knowing it was impossible to get it back.

“Das ist sehr nett von dir, Y/N,” you muttered under your nose to his words and poured him some bourbon. Zemo looked as you could use some.

„Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir, Zemo,” you replied angrily, handing him the drink as he lied on the sofa with cold patch over his head. „Was ist mir dir passiert? Bitte essen.”

With the move of your hand, you showed Sam and James to sit at the table and eat what you have prepared.

“She invites you to eat,” he translated, slowly drinking his bourbon. “Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich ,” he then replied to your question and removed the compress.

“Was?” you chuckled at the mere thought of him being knocked out like this. “Komm, du muss auch essen.” You encouraged Zemo to join the Americans at the table and eat together.

The four of you sat awkwardly at the table as you were putting food on the plates and handing them over to each of them.

“So, Sam would you consider taking the serum if you were offered it? Hypothetically speaking, of course,” you said nothing just rolling your eyes internally. What a perfect question to ask at the table.

“No,” he cut it shortly between the bites.

“No hesitation? That’s admirable.”

You looked at James sitting quietly as you and eating. You sensed he was still tormented by his past and listening to them hypothetically speaking about taking or not the super-solider serum was uneasy. You felt sorry for him being used as a pawn in other’s men fight. Living without the ability to decide what to do must be haunting, let alone the knowledge of your forced actions.

“Danke,” you heard from him as he finished eating.

“Gern geschehen,” you couldn’t help but to give him a warm smile and watched him go to another room to get some rest. He was still bothered by his past and even though he tried his best to make it go away, it did not work as he wished it to work.

Zemo as he finished, also stood up but helped you with cleaning the table and putting dishes into a dishwasher. Then once more he retrieved to his favourite, horizontal position on the sofa with another drink and cold compress. Unfortunately, his rest didn’t last long as two men stormed into the apartment.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over,” Walker said authoritarian pointing at Zemo.

“Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth,” Sam confronted him as everyone tensed up for inevitable conflict. “He’s actually proven himself useful today.”

“Who is she?” Walker pointed at you rudely as soon as he was denied getting Zemo.

“Temporal associate,” you heard Sam answering in your favour.

“Another criminal? You two are just falling down as you collaborate with such people,” he summed that up in his pretentious, all-knowing manner. He looked at you for a moment. “John Walker, Captain America.”

“Ich weiß das,” you muttered to him.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” you heard Walker scoffing.

“You know, people can use different languages too, Walker. Maybe learn another?”

“That’s how it’s going to be, Sam? Should I put my shield down, to make it fair?” Sam smiled lightly with disbelief. That man was insufferable.

The atmosphere was tense, and it was seconds away for Sam and Walker to start the fight. It was postponed for a while only due to a sudden appearance of a spear that stuck into the column right next to Walker’s head. The Dora Milaje arrived, and they had no fucks to give.

The leader of them start talking with James in Wakandian, and you knew it was the time they wanted to get Zemo to pay for what he has done.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.”

Is he dense or something?, you thought looking at how thoughtlessly his actions were. Even you knew not to disregard Dora Milaje nor to interfere in their businesses, and he was going straight into it. You saw his partner being a bit agitated by the sudden entrance of warriors.

“Sagt er das jedes Mal, wenn er sich vorstellt?” you snorted watching how Walker was trying to talk reason to the Wakandian, and even you knew it was one of the stupidest things he could do.

“Yep,” James said pouring himself a drink.

As you have foreseen second after John’s hand was on Dora Milaje’s arm he was doomed as three of them attacked him and Lemar.

“Are we going to do something about it?” Sam asked James, who took quite a pleasure observing the fight.

“Looking strong, John,” he shouted back at the fighting men.

You could not help it as a short laugh escape your mouth. It did not take long for Sam to join the quarrel and shortly after James followed him.

As Falcon and Winter Soldier came into the fight, you approached Zemo and asked, “Should I also fight them as your champion? To get the right to, have you?” you smiled cheekily over your whisky.

“You can have me any moment, you want Y/N,” you choked on your drink. “Now, if you excuse me.”

You watched him taking a bottle of alcohol and aggressively zeroed his glass. Then undisturbed by anyone he went to the bathroom and just before closing the door, your eyes meet. You perfectly knew Zemo was escaping and all you did was to raise your glass towards him and finish your drink.

That’s going to be fun, you thought pouring another glass of whiskey, watching how everyone is getting their asses whooped.

***

“How could you let him go?” you held up your arms in a gesture of ineffable incomprehension of your act.

“C’mon man, it’s not that we need him that much now. We must focus on our mission, Bucky. I know it’s hard for you, I know it, but we can’t blow it away,” Sam put his hand on James’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, trying to reassure and comfort him.

“I helped him escape from Berlin that was enough for Dora Milaje,” James said sternly and stopped in front of the building they had set up a meeting in. “You can’t go in, Y/N, two of us is already too many.”

“Klar,” you agreed and watched them go inside the beast’s belly.

You walked down the street, heading to a small square located in this part of Riga. You surprisingly found yourself enjoying this short stroll without anyone to interrupt you or anyone to chase after. Quite a lovely vacation you could have had. You liked this city as it had interesting history and architecture that survived Second World War.

The fountain in the middle of the square was captivating and a lot of tourists were taking pictures of it. You were surprised that despite incidents caused by your company, there were organised groups and sightseeing tours. You admired the monument for a longer while until you noticed something on the opposite side of it.

“I thought you would be far away from here,” you approached slowly Zemo, standing in the shadow.

“I thought about it but then again I feel somewhat responsible for how everybody jumped to each other’s throats just to be able to get me.”

“Isn’t that what you are famous for? And don’t tell me you feel bad about it,” he looked at you and smirked.

“Bad, no but it’s rather tiresome for me. I don’t really take any joy from it,” Zemo hesitated for a second and you could tell he dropped some part of his act. You could have seen the very broken man who was the reason for the Avengers split. “Why not a dress?”

“What?” you were taken by surprise with his question.

“There were few dresses in the closet, and you decided to take my shirt,” you looked at Zemo frowning.

“I won’t do anything to it, if that’s what you mean,” you tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t successful. “I thought it would have been strange to wear your wife’s.”

“I wouldn’t mind if someone could do a good use of them,” he smiled sadly. “Anyway, I enjoyed your company today. It reminded me of your visits when I was imprisoned.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring blankly at the pavement. That was quite charming of him and you smirked at this thought.

“Yes, me – ” you stopped talking at the sudden sound of breaking glass and crushing metal.

In front of you two men were fighting, of which one was much more superior. You watched Walker throwing his shield again and again at the man, treating him like a training bag.

What the actual fuck, you thought as you heard other man pleading for his life, but Walker was out. He didn’t hear him nor listen to him, there was something more going on. He put the shield up, above his head and allowed his rage to take control over him. Walker repeatedly smashed the head of the poor man several times with his shield and then he stood with it.

Unmoved. Triumphant in his imagination. Covered in blood splashes. And the shield bathed in bloody strains shimmered ominously. The new era of superheroes has arrived in its brutal glory. Unstoppable. Utterly frightening.

“Jesus and that is how Captain America deal with things now?” you couldn’t believe your own eyes, as Walker murdered a man in daylight. “Now, I can see more vivid than ever why super-soldiers pose a threat to the order.”

“The whole world is watching, and they know what he did. He will be never forgiven for such a barbaric act. Previous Captain America stood for what the US wanted to be, righteous and good. This one, he’s … he’s what America is like. Brutal and not afraid to kill anyone who wronged it,” you listened to Zemo seeing how every single one of passing by people were with a phone, recording or even streaming live this whole situation.

“Where are you going now?” you looked at him for a moment, still cautiously monitoring the surroundings, trying to digest the terrifying view.

“Sokovia, or rather to what is left of it…” Zemo answered looking plainly before himself. “Will you give me a week?”

“I will give you two days tops before I go after you again, Zemo.”

“Good enough,” he smiled lightly and looked at you. “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Nah, I’m good. I want to be around here and see how this will develop.”

All of sudden he caught your chin and moved it up, and then kissed you gently. You stood in awe, trying to figure out what on earth was going on, as you were not completely over that you have witnessed Captain America going apeshit. But after a moment of suspension, you kissed him back.

“Care to explain?” you asked as you separated from the kiss.

“People tend to feel uncomfortable when they see a kissing couple and I didn’t want to be filmed,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t want Sam nor James to find me before I want to be found.”

“People or you wanted me to feel uncomfortable?” it felt strange but in a good way. You only hoped that he wasn’t trying to play with you as well as he did with others.

“And are you?” you rolled your eyes with a groan. He was acting impossible. As he managed to temporarily escape his guards, Zemo was probably going to be even more of himself than he already was.

“I will see you in two days, Zemo.”

“That’s the plan,” he smirked and disappeared into the crowd.

________________________________________________________ German vocab.: Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch? – Oh my God, Y/N, can’t you really speak English? Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch. – By the way, your dancing was ridiculous. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen. – I thought, I have seen you there. Du war recht – You were right.Es tut mir sehr leid. – I’m very sorry.Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es. – Stop it now, Zemo. You only take care of yourself and to destroy super soldiers. That's it.Wunderbar! – Wonderful. Du starrst. – You are staring. Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo? – I know you and am still surprised how you treat these men. Aren't they your enemies, Zemo? Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle. – Right now, they are useful. That's all. Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an. – That doesn't sound too bad. Was machen wir jetzt? – What are we going to do? Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren – I'm surprised you didn't try to lose them between cities. Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles – Well, like I said, they're a means to an end, that's all. Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht? – What have you been doing in the last few years? Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier… - Nothing special, but I was gone for 5 years because of the Snap. Now I'm here… Du verstehst mich? – You understand me, yes? Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst? – What are you going to do with him? When you no longer need him? Und die Wakanderin? – And the Wakandian? Nicht genommen – Non taken. Was ist los? – What’s going on? Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. – Nothing now but I think someone is following us. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt – The power broker sent man after the three of you. Achtung! – Watch out! Warte. Versuche es zu drücken – Hold on. Try to push it. Und der Söldner? – And the mercenary? Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren – You should take a rest. You lost a lot of blood. Yeah, yeah, was auch immer. – Yeah, whatever. Gut – good Mein Schätzchen – darling Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern – You look good in my clothes Danke – Thanks Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel – Why? I have to intercept him. He is my target. Ja, warum nicht? – Yes, why not? Das ist sehr nett von dir – That’s nice of you Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir – And knocking me out wasn’t very thoughtful of you Was ist mir dir passiert? – What have happened to you? Bitte essen – please eat Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich – The new Captain America threw his shield at me. Was? – What? Komm, du muss auch essen – Come, you too should eat. Gern geschehen – You’re welcome Klar - Clear

#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #sam wilson #james bucky barnes #john walker #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo

141 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 4 years

Note

I was rewatching death note and when L did his monster speech this request was born! So the idea is Bakugo and iida (separately ) with a s/o who has trust issues and is liar ,nothing extremely serious like betraying them! More like smaller stuff? They probably confront them asking why they lie so much!”

({and btw if you haven’t herd L’s monster speech you should for inspiration buts that’s your choice! Have a happy holiday!✨)

“y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: this long sorry, violence, language, some topics of abuse but it isn’t in detail, kissing and fluff

word count: 5200+

a/n: hi sorry i don’t write for iida cause i find him really annoying and i don’t think i have the facilities to write him, but i do write bakugo so here it is, also i love the L speech sm and anything in italics is either a reference to the speech or directly incorporates the speech, have a happy rest of the holiday as well

summary: in which you were raised by villains, by being saved by the heroes, the trust issues and lying you were brought upon reflects you now, bakugo grows ever more frustrated at your lying and all your truths come out

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The echo of the wind bashing against the windowsill roared through the commission, the white walls cascaded around you, it was painful and enduring at how you sat in the middle of the silent room. Waiting. No. Watching, you were listening and seeing those around you, a muzzle around your mouth to surpress your voice. Your wrists coated with the metal handcuffs, you were trapped, and you being stalked by those around you.

“Miss Y/l/n, we have found your family.” The voice is loud and monotone, you didn’t care, fuck your family, fuck what they did to you, fuck them.

Unable to move your hands to put a middle finger up at the camera, one movement causing an electrifying bolt run through your arms. You hated being here, you would rather fend for yourself on the streets than be involved in a hell hole like this.

“No words of happiness.” The sound of a certain pro hero caught your ears, the one who had captured you, held you against your will, locked you in this room. Number two pro hero Hawks.

“You can kill them for all I care.” Your voice dripped with malice not looking up at him.

Monsters who will not show themselves and will cause trouble.

You heard him say something quietly behind him before the jingle of keys were heard. He walked to the handcuffs undoing them, the muzzle clenched against your face, leaving sore marks, he grabbed at it making you face him. You were about to activate your quirk, but he quickly let go making you stop.

“We’re sending you to UA.” You eyes widened, what did a shitty school like UA need with a villain like you.

He looked at your sore wrists, before the signs of the bruises vanished underneath your thumb which you had been rubbing against the purple. He watched you touch your neck which had bruises from being pushed to the ground, all disappearing in a single touch. “A school like that doesn’t need me.”

“Of course it does, your quirk can be used for good.” He softly speaks sitting beside you on the white floor. The room was suffocating, and you wanted to leave it as soon as you could.

“I can’t, I know how to kill, I was raised to kill.” You put your hands to your face, getting rid of the cuts that erupted on your face, with an instance it was all gone. “If I touch you and activate my quirk, I could break you.”

He looks at your tired eyes, a child broken and used by your family to become a villain. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

It gains your attention and with an instance you look at the man, he holds his hand out you grab it with ease, his fingers were soft, you could imagine them breaking under your touch. He guides you out of the room, you walked past to where many other rooms which you assumed where blank and lifeless. Before seeing a window, it was to another room, you saw a woman in bed, she was bandaged up but the silver around her wrist made you in an instance know who it is.

“Your mother she’s dying, the families she ruined wont get proper justice, but I’ll let you go in, you can scream, shout hell you can kill her yourself, but you will join UA.” The sound of being able to kill her, kill the woman who had stolen you away.

“She’s not my mother, she found me.” They were never your family; they had seen you at such a young age and stolen you to indoctrinate.

Monsters who abduct children.

He nods already knowing, “we’ll lock the door.” All that flashed through your eyes was murder, she had taken it all from you, you never wanted to see her family, her stupid husband and her stupid son, you hated them all and you were going to kill her.

The sound of the door locking made you move towards her, she looked up thinking you were hear to save her. “My daughter.” The words were careless and made you angrier.

“I was never your daughter…” You pause her frail fingers had started to wrinkle and her face becoming grey and hair patchy.

“Y/n.” He breathing was rough, but you didn’t care, with an instant you went up to her exposed hands.

A smile formed on your lips, maybe you were a sadist, but you could do one last villainous action, make her fie even quicker, make her beg for forgiveness. Then you would go to UA, you would forget about the torture, forgot about them. You would become something a lot more than they had ever expected.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was comical but her face fell.

“You heartless bitch.” She shouted, “you fucking bitch, no wonder nobody loves you.” You didn’t care about her words smiling away.

The way her fingers cracked under your touch, each bone breaking the screams filling the room. You didn’t care touching even more of her before you moved directly to her heart. Hawks had heard the screams ignoring it maybe it was wrong of him to let you do this. But you deserved justice, your hand moved on top of her chest.

“Y/n…please.” She begged it was heaven in your ears, the woman who had tormented you was begging for you too stop and what else could you do but disagree. She had clinged onto your wrist, tightening her grip, unable to use her own quirk due to the medication, this was your only chance.

Hawks knew it was over, opening the door to see you walk out, he looked at you expecting some emotion but was brought with happiness, almost joy. “Where are the other two?”

“You’ll see them again when they’re locked up, but that’s it, you cant kill them.” You nodded, you’d find a way, you’d find a way to kill them both, but you kept your composure.

The day flew past he explained how you’d have to lie, pretend your life was normal. But the main thing he wanted you to know was.

“If you kill any of them, I’ll be the one to kill you Y/n.” You nod, you had a straight face for most of his lecture, but you felt like he was trying to replace the adult figures you had had in your life. “If you get into any trouble, call me or just want to know how to act human, I know you haven’t been in the best education, but this is a fresh chance.”

“Okay.” It was simple and whilst sleeping in the commission in a much better area with colour and natural light. You watched the sky, watched how the stars danced around the moon, you admired it from a far but oh how you wished to see it up close.

The night was calming, and you were restless, but it wasn’t out of fear of going to UA, it was of fear they would find out who you were. Find out you were a villain, find out that you had caused deaths along the way. You were confident in your abilities, but they were new people, you had been surrounded by A rank and B rank villains all your life. Hell you had been classed as an A rank villain but now you would become something in life.

Hawks hadn’t bothered to tell you about your real parents, all that was known was you had been on the streets, you were a nobody and you would remain like that if you tried hard enough. The night had led to a lack of sleep with tossing and turning, the nightmares blaring through your head. The torment the way they would use your quirk at the tender age of five to kill and kill again.

Monsters who devour dreams.

The sound of coughing woke you up in your slumber, you hadn’t grown close to the winger hero. But he was trying, he gave you your new uniform, helped you pack a bag with everything and even gave encouraging words along the way.

The uniform was gross but after being trapped for weeks in solitude you were finally getting human contact, experiencing the world. “I’ll help you settle in; the teachers know your…past.” You nod, he was avoiding it and so were you, the drive being filled with silence.

Your gaze had been out the window, the hues of red and yellow cascaded through the sky, it was beautiful. A month ago the only thing you had seen was thick concrete walls, murder only occurring inside of the building you had called home for years.

“We’re here.” He whispers opening the door for you, taking your bags he watches you hit the air and feel the sun, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Your surpress the smile looking down, “make friends Y/n.” You nod, you were able to make friends, of course you were it was the not sticking out like a sore thumb that bothered you.

These people will have known each other for a month’s now but you, you weren’t normal. Hawks gave a smile walking you inside the building, “I’ll go drop your bags off to your new room once you’ve settled in.”

You walked past the doors, before arriving in front of a humongous door, shrugging at how Hawks spoke about the class. “The league tried to get them.” You mutter out. “They had talked to Shigaraki about it prior, we were going to go with them but my bro…he got sick.”

It was a lie of course; it wasn’t that he had gotten sick. You had touched him; broken his arm and you had been punished in an instant. You were made to sleep in the rain, eat off the ground, it was torture and you had felt sucked to death.

Monsters who suck blood.

Hawks nods, you misspeaking made you nervous, this was the first time you would be talking and listening to people who you weren’t about to kill. The door opened and you didn’t dare face the class, the teacher who you assumed was Aizawa stood in a sleeping bag, you dismissed it knowing how powerful his quirk was.

“We’ve got a new student today, Y/n Y/l/n and pro hero Hawks is here.” The shock on there faces was something, but it felt more to Hawks than it was to you.

“I’ll be leaving I’ll call tonight.” You nod at Hawks watching him leave with your stuff, your bag hanged loosely on your shoulder. You analysed them all, scanning up and down before you saw the boy who you knew Shigaraki had captured, the Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya who your ‘parents’ had told you about.

You stopped staring at them, Izuku looked down not meeting your gaze whilst Bakugo scowled at you, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Oh umm…” You stuttered Hawks had made you practice a fake backstory but, in an instant, it was forgotten, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N, I moved here with my family a…and ugh.”

Monsters who always tell lies.

You didn’t know what else to say, refusing to meet their gazes as you looked out the window, the birds chirping, petals falling in the August heat, it was beautiful, how life spewed out into the world. But also how easily it was to destroy life, how in one touch everything could break and deteriorate, “Y/n.” Aizawa had been repeating your name but you hadn’t gotten out of your daze until the third time.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He points to a seat behind Bakugo and in front of Midoriya, “go sit behind Bakugo.” You nod, walking past them all, they seemed already accustom to their friends. This was going to be a lot harder; it wasn’t like you were infiltrating it to gain anything. You going against the indoctrination and being the opposite of what you had been brought up to be.

You felt someone tap your shoulder as Aizawa went to what looked like sleep, quickly turning around to meet the green haired boy. “I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

You pretended to not know him, smiling as you introduced yourself again, “Yeah I heard.”

“Why did your parents move?” A blonde boy shouted, you saw the black in his hair, it was a look, but you had seen a lot worse hairstyles.

“Oh, work.” It was an easy enough lie which nobody would be able to see through. “We move around a lot.”

He doesn’t say anymore, as some of the girls come around the table, all introducing themselves, you smile thinking this had become easier by the minute. As quickly as introductions had occurred between the whole class, the day had begin to conclude and all that was left was training.

You didn’t have a hero costume so remained in the UA uniform; it was easy enough. With the odd amount of people, Aizawa had made you stay beside him. “I want you to break all of their left legs.”

Was this a trick or a ploy? You were happy to accept knowing this to be an easy enough thing to do, you saw how they had all began to bunch together. It was paced easily, skimming through each and everyone of them, jumping onto the high buildings as you touched all their left legs with ease, even Midoriya whose quirk you had known to be superior had not been paying attention, you easily touched it before hiding it. Your last victim was Bakugo who seemed to be jumping around, you saw how he stood in front of Kirishima in the open area, well you were going to make this a show.

You already heard the screams of some of the class and whilst being distracted you touched the blond’s leg, having assumed it was the wind he ignored the feeling. Ready to attack just as you bounced back to Aizawa.

In an instance you saw the class cascade onto their left knees, the shouting and tears flowing from some of them. It was quick enough, and you almost felt the thrill of killing from doing this small action.

Even Bakugo who had tried to not become grounded was repressing growls at the pain, “What’s ha…” You heard Momo ask on the ground, even the boy you had known as Endeavor’s son had collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s good, and you can heal them as well.” Aizawa ignored the class taking it as an endurance test.

You nodded about to go reverse it, “no let them feel it.” He had stopped you, you spaced in and out watching them on the floor, you stood in silence, it was easy enough to be stealthy even the invisible girl was easy to get after seeing the gloves floating about.

Aizawa after a couple minutes let you touch there legs again, all regaining strength again. They were all a bit out of it but Bakugo seemed the most pissed at you, not understanding your quirk. The class stood in silence looking at you, you didn’t look at them, wanting to leave and just look out at the sky for a bit.

“Y/n, was that your quirk?” The questions cascaded out, but you refused to answer, you didn’t care if they knew but you felt anxious and untrustworthy of these people. They could end up using it against you, hell they might even try and cut your hands off, so you’re left quirk less.

You had heard it happened to Overhaul so what would make you think that these groups of future pro heroes wouldn’t do it you. “No.” Is all you say, it was a lie, and you were going to stick by it forever.

Lying monsters they are much more cunning than other monsters.

Look into the horizon and see hope, “can we go now?” You muttered to Aizawa, he nodded, you didn’t stop to talk to them instantly leaving.

You didn’t want to face the question and answers, you wanted to be alone. You understood after all these years of being isolated, making friends, being around other people had took a toll on you and you wanted to curl up into a ball.

You grabbed your bag changing as quick as you could, instantly walking past the class who had just arrived to change. You saw the message on the phone Hawks had given you a number and floor of where you assumed your room was.

Whilst walking towards where the dorms were you heard the shout of your name. Turning around you were met with Todoroki, “oh hi.”

“Your quirk its…” He trailed off not knowing the words.

He joined you in the walk to the dorms, “you can say villainous, I can kill people with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but at least you’re on our side.” He smiles out before talking about the class and how impressed they were with your quirk.

All you could think about were the words he had said though our side, what did it mean? Were there sides to this world, were you going to remain on the side of justice or go against Hawks and run and kill and be killed by him.

You had ignored everything else he had said, “I’m glad I’m on your side as well.” It was a blatant lie, but you were trying, trying to put on a façade. You tried to understand him, understand the emotions that were around you. But you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how something has harmless as you had done had made them impressed. If they wanted to be impressed, you could kill someone. If they really wanted.

They pose as humans even though they have no understand of the human heart.

Todoroki talked about how meals worked and the works and before you knew it, he had dropped you off directly outside the dorm room. “I’ll come get you for dinner.” You nodded before sucking in a breath. You had your own room, your own sanctuary, you could make it look however you wanted.

You walked inside seeing your bags to the side, a desk and a bed it was normal and empty. Hell if you knew what to do with the room, you had no pictures to put up, no possessions only the new clothes Hawks had brought you. It was barren and you expected it would remain this way.

You laid on the bed, feeling the soft and warm covers, it was a new experience, the rags you had slept in prior being nothing compared to this. It was comfort that you had never experience, the few hours later bringing the half haired boy to your room.

You had put the clothes in the designated area and been waiting on the bed, staring out of the window. It was getting dull and wearing the clothes that fit too right, you opened the door to see Todoroki.

“We’re waiting downstairs.” You nod, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt as you followed the boy. He made conversation which you gave small yeah back too. You were eating for the sake of it, eating to fuel you it wasn’t to satisfy or pleasure you it was to make you stronger. That’s how you had been brought up and that’s how you seemed to remain.

You saw the class crowding a table, a confusion settling on your face. Even the angry Bakugo was perched on the table, Todoroki coughed, and everybody turned their backs. “She’s hear.” Mina squealed, “we got you a cake to celebrate you joining our class.”

Your face fell in confusion, why were they being nice? You had hurt them and now they had gotten you a cake, you had never had a cake, always being told it was bad for you and would ruin your quirk.

“A c…cake.” You stuttered.

“Yeah, a cake, look its got frosting.” Ururaka smiled moving to show you the cake.

It was Midoriya the next to speak, “we think your quirk is really cool and don’t want you to think we think it’s a villain quirk or something.”

Your eyes widened; the cake had blue frosting but the sound of Midoriya repeating what Todoroki spoke out too you. You took a deep breath before faking a smile, everybody seemed to believe it and your next words, “thank you guys so much it means a lot.”

Bakugo knew, Bakugo saw how your eyes were lying, how your face might have been smiling but inside you were dying. Those eyes of yours, the way your upper lip twitched whilst cutting the cake. He saw it all and, in the end, he saw how your fingers skimmed the knife, as if you were thinking about murder. But what did he know about an extra like you.

They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger.

A couple weeks had passed, and you seemed to have settled in, well that’s what Hawks had assumed after every daily call with you. His words echoing in your head, one murder and you would die yourself. You had grown closer with all of them , specifically Mina and Kirishima, but Bakugo was another story, he was scowl every time you looked at him, everytime you tried to make conversation. You both hadn’t shared a single conversation only being around each other due to your mutual friends.

The day Mina had asked to study in your room had brought Kirishima, Sero, Denki and Bakugo to your room. You hadn’t expected all of them, but you put on a fake smile again, you didn’t need to revise, hell if it wasn’t for your quirk, you’d still be academically smarter then the rest of them.

You didn’t confess to this truth only accepting them inside the barren room, you hadn’t gotten time to print out the pictures you had taken with the class. As much as the villain inside of you hated to admit it you were enjoying your time. You had thought the first night at UA, that in a month you’d have killed them, the villain in you would come out and you’d stop all their hearts, but now, smiling with them maybe things were different.

Or maybe you were lying to yourself, because to Bakugo you still showed the lying nature, your eyes were filled with lies and could dare look at you. It was only for Kirishima who had dragged him alone, he wanted to ask why you lied, why you didn’t tell the truth? A true pro hero would never go to this extent, but he had no proof, it was in his head.

It was all true, you had continued this lie, making up about how your parents and you were distant, but you had a brother who you were close with. The brother who had stolen you had never been close with you, he hated you, resented your quirk and had killed anybody around you to prove he was the better child.

You imagined him locked up right now, locked away in the hell hole, it was callous, but you relished in his pain. Mina had begun asking questions which you ignored thinking, you zoned out looking out of the window. He was probably chained up, sobbing at how he regretted it all. Regretted hurting you, you bet he didn’t even know that you were the one to kill his mother.

It was comforting but you knew you would have to surpress these thoughts to seem normal. “Sorry, I spaced out, say that again?” You quickly spoke.

Bakugo had noticed you space out, noticed how your lips twitched upwards into a cruel face he had seen that face before. Seen it on every villain he had even encountered and the fear that filled him, startled you all as he knocked the books to the floor.

You continued helping Mina ignoring the boy who continued looking at you. He didn’t bother helping Kirishima, only glaring at you, it wasn’t like he cared if you trusted them or not. But you were no hero to him, even if Deku and Todoroki told you, you were a hero, you would always be something villainous. The night fell and they all left, Bakugo having glared the entire night, it was unnerving, and you were fearful he was catching on, but you dismissed it. It was easy to not overthink these types of stuff, you could always threaten the boy.

They study even though they have no interest in academics.

The late night was unnerving you could feel Bakugo’s presence surround the room, you jolted up. Looking around, feeling watched, before you noticed the hoodie Bakugo had been wearing draped over the chair. He might be awake, he could be, you didn’t care, you got up stretching before grabbing the hoodie and creeping out the door.

You were on the same floor as the boy, so in a quick few steps you arrived at his door. You knocked hesitantly, maybe you should’ve waited. You shook your head, knowing that the feeling of his hoodie in your room made you on edge. You knocked again, and on the third a sleep Bakugo opened the door.

They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love.

He rubbed his eyes before noticing who it was, “what the hell do you want?”

You scowled looking at him, “you left your hoodie in my room.”

You pushed it on him about to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, “we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the morning.” You were fearful not of him but the threat he knew your secret, knew everything about you.

He ignored you dragging you inside and shutting the door, “sit down.” He mutters, you oblige sitting on the edge of his bed, he had been wearing a black shirt and shorts, you didn’t look at him, instead looing around his room. You see a picture of what looks to be his parents, he was the spitting image of his mother. He looked angry in it but even then, it was a family picture filled with love, something you would never have.

“Why do you lie?” He meets your gaze.

“L…lie, I haven’t.” You lie out.

“I see it in your eyes, you have this face and I’ve seen it on villains, who are you?” His voice had become harsher and you felt intimidated. Fuck, you had killed people and a rowdy blond boy was making you scared.

“I told you…”

He interrupts you, “Y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once.”

“Bakugo I don’t know what you’re on about.” You say acting dumb to leave this situation, “I��ve tried to be nice to you but you jus…”

He speaks over you to make you shut up, “you don’t want to be friends, what are you Y/n?”

His voice was eery and he continued to spew out the truth, “you’re a villain aren’t you.”

You take a deep breath the tears about to brim from your eyelids, “I’m the monster, parents tell their kids about.”

Bakugo watched the tears flow out, he didn’t know what to do, he brought his hand to your face wiping the tears with his thumb. “Y/n tell me the truth.”

You look a mess, but you didn’t care, and you confessed it all, you didn’t lie or skim over the truth. You told him from the moment you got taken to the moment you killed the woman who had made you call her mother.

You expected him to push you away, tell everybody instead he sat in silence. Before bringing you into his arms, “I shouldn’t have called you a villain.” It was a soft side to the boy who had been known for being aggressive, after hearing your sufferings he understood, and he wanted to make sure you were always safe and protected.

“I am a monster though.”

He makes you look up at him, holding your face in his hands, “you’re not, the monsters are those people.”

You don’t speak instead leaning your head against his shoulders, you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. He held your head onto his body, moving onto the pillow to let you lie down on him, he brought you comfort, let you cry on him. You weren’t a villain; you weren’t a villain and if Bakugo believed it then you weren’t a villain to the boy who had been surrounded by them just as much as you had.

After that night Bakugo and you had grown into a strong friendship, it was shocking to the class who had never seen you even talk. The way he would come and make you coffee in the morning, walk with you to each class. Sit beside you in at lunch, even go as far as it train with you just so you felt included.

But seeing how you both talked and smiled at each other, for the first time you had a genuine smile on your face, a genuine laugh that wasn’t filled with lies from your past. They watched how the two of you grew over the course of the next month, how the two of you grew closer and closer. It was unfathomable but you had made a true friend, a friendship that wasn’t based on lies, maybe one day you’d tell them all.

But at the time being you were content with having the angry boy be remotely nicer to you than anybody. It was Mina who had noticed how Bakugo would open the door for you or hold your bag occasionally. The unusual behaviour making everybody think he was sick, but all you saw from him was kindness that had evolved for you.

What they hadn’t realised was how at ease you both had gotten into a routine of sneaking into each other’s rooms. How you’d hold onto each other, talk and vent about the past in each other’s arms. Friends don’t do that; friends don’t hold and comfort each other like you both did.

On one of the many nights you both spent together, his arm around your waist, you looked at him. Looked at his fiery red eyes and fallen blond hair, he had become something more to you. Somebody who you could trust with your life.

“Stop looking at me, its creepy.” He scolds, you laugh at the boy bringing your hand to his hair.

You feel him stare down at your tiny figure, “I thought you were a real bitch the first time we met.”

“You don’t think that anymore.” You pout out nearing closer to his plump lips.

“I still think you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughs, cocking his head back before bringing it back to your face, the gap having narrowed and all you could see was his fiery eyes stare back at you. “You’re my bitch...though.”

You nod not making a remark as the gap closes between you. Your lips moving together in an instant, it was long awaited and seethed with love and hope. But most of all it proved the woman who you called mother wrong, you weren’t heartless, and you have the love she spoke about from Bakugo.

Monsters who always tell lies.

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jjkpls · 4 years

Text

first love (m)

genre : fluff, angst, light smut

pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

word count : 4.6k

warnings/content : mentions of sexual intercourse, mature language, infidelity, separated parents, unresolved past relationship, dad!seokjin, mom!reader

Seokjin doesn't mean to overreact. He knows he shouldn't. Knows you hate it. Knows, because he's been told enough times, that these types of reactions are unnecessary and possibly harmful for a child.

He can't really help it when deep down he knows he was meant to be an actor. Right before his actual birthday, his mother had dreamt of giving birth on a theatre stage, for God's sake.

But his father wasn't into it, given his ambitions, his own growing company and all the promising opportunities he envisioned both for him and for his only son. Therefore Seokjin went to law school, graduated with excellent mentions, followed an accelerated program in business development and managing and joined his father exactly where he was expected.

He isn't exactly complaining.

He likes his job, most of the time, likes the money and luxury that come with it especially and appreciates the work safety.

Now, you can't blame him for being quite the drama queen in his everyday life. All that pent up, buried alive passion for the arts of acting need to express, somehow.

That's what he'd say to you when you used to yell at him for starting weeping loudly in your ear when he'd call you to cancel a date last minute because he couldn't come, instead of just, cancelling it, aplogize, get over it like a normal person.

Or when you'd kick him in the ribs because he'd be all wild gestures and screeching screams when he'd teach your son to ride a bike and he would fall, as he should to learn, making the boy cry even when he wasn't hurt, solely from the projection of his dad's fear.

You're not here to tell him yourself but the glazed, annoyed roll of his son's eyes tells him precisely what you would. Those eyes are the worst. The prettiest he's ever seen. The ones he loves the most. The ones you also wear on your own pretty face.

"Since when?" He has a hand pressed to his chest, preventing a heart attack it seems, gaze wide and alarmed. Timothy sighs.

"A while. They were already together for Valentine's Day-" He explains patiently. That kid is sweet. The way he's slumped over, obviously annoyed to have to be the one telling his dad and having to deal with the consequences but still, he's watching over him with a soft eye, mouth torn in a sympathetic pout. He wouldn't mind his parents to get back together even though he is almost sure it wouldn't be a good idea for the both of you. He's heard tales of dysfunctional families, of parents hurting each other and their children and doesn't want that for any of you. He can't imagine it happen. You two are too good for that. That's probably why you had decided to separate in the first place.

Seokjin is quickly making maths in his head. Not really counting the time but situating himself in that time frame. Where was he at when she was out with this guy? What was he doing?

He may have been in Japan when it started. He remembers a call from you, you were asking him to take Timothy for a couple of days. You sounded embarrassed and he didn't know why but couldn't take the time to investigate, he had a flight expecting him and a conference call waiting to start in a couple of minutes. Important stuff. None of it would have mattered if he had known what you were up to.

"You okay, dad?" Timothy asks, awkward but kind. His mom basically.

"Devastated." Seokjin says with the widest grin on his face. He's not devastated. It'd be ridiculous to be for something absolutely predictable, fair and normal. He's not mad, nor disappointed. You deserve to be seeing people, have them desire you and make you feel good. He wishes it were him but if he can't do that, if you won't let him, he's glad you still can allow someone else to do it.

He's surprised though, he can't lie about that.

Honestly. That's stupid. But he didn't expect one second that you were seeing someone. You never mentioned anything and you didn't look like it. If there's a way you look when you're dating.

He remembers rosy cheeks and short skirts. You were younger.

"You think it's serious?" He asks casually, surprising even himself. His heart is in a turmoil but he showed enough to Timothy, acting like he was half dying, gasping for air and all.

"I don't know. She doesn't want to bring him home yet. Like, introduce him to me. I asked." Timothy, not only is he nice, he is smart. He's thirteen, shouldn't know much about Love and adults' matters yet. He's supposed to still be at that stage when one believes children and adults are two very distinctive race of humans, one that depends on the other and the other having it all figured it out, having reached a certain knowledge and expertise on all things and can't really be wrong on accident.

Timothy knows precisely what his dad would love to hear. And he gives it to him. Not to feed him vain hopes. Not even for this tiny hidden greed to have you back together. Simply because it's the truth and if for once the truth is pleasant to hear, then he should give it. Seokjin's smile only gets brighter. He shares a glance with his son, a glint winking his way and Timothy rolls his eyes, unable to hide the lift of the corners of his lips.

"Anyway, I heard you won that science fair at school?" Seokjin has already left his seat on Timothy's bed. He's rummaging through his leather bag and Timothy knows what it means. He has a present for him. Seokjin always has a present for him. Most of the time, he can justify it by some event or some success Timothy had encountered. The thing is they don't see each other that often, therefore, almost systematically, something new has come about and Seokjin can explain why he's brought a brand new console, a new laptop, a TV for his room or that one limited edition of this way too expensive branded pair of sneakers.

You used to get really mad at that. You'd say that he shouldn't, that he didn't need to bring him all these expensive stuff because what he'd like (it was a long time ago when Timothy was too young to have his own opinion and you would speak for him) is for his dad to be here more often. You'd say he wouldn't have to buy him shit for any other times than Christmas and his birthday if only he could be here for him. His dad would be his present.

It caused a lot of drama, a lot of crying. You had made sure not to scream, not to be too angry but Timothy felt from the way you squeezed him hard against your bosom that you were very upset. His dad had apologized, had said the most with his eyes only for you to understand. Timothy was staring, trying to get it too because he was involved, wasn't he? But that was one of those adults moments he wasn't allowed to participate in yet.

From then on, his dad wasn't late anymore when he'd set dates with him, his phone would be turned off when they were together and he would text him more often.

It was really nice. Because at first, Timothy felt that maybe if his dad wasn't so present it was because he didn't want to. For some reasons. He thought maybe he was too much of a coward or too nice possibly, to leave you two altogether, to disappear from your lives and start another one somewhere else, one he would have chosen and shaped as he'd want. Turns out Seokjin really appreciated his son and the time he got to spend with him. The more time they spend together, the more Timothy is met with awed eyes and whistling lips, impressed as his dad is by his smartness, his humour and hidden talents. He just was very busy. You explained that to him. That he was passionate by his work, that it required a sacrificial amount of time in one's life, and that he shouldn't ever take it personally because even he loved you and couldn't give you that time.

It's the conversation that led him to think that maybe his parents are meant to be, except they won't because... circumstances.

In any case, no matter how often they meet now, Seokjin still brings him gifts each and every time. The difference is that he has to think of a reason, sometimes make one up to not be struck down by your fury.

"Yes, I did."

"Of course, you did! Cause my son is the smartest." Timothy waits for the moment he says that his brain and the magic fuel filling it all come from him. It doesn't come. Instead, a neat white box is held in front of his face. There's a pretty tie made of ribbons glued in the middle, to hide the picture of what's inside, but there's no doubt that this is an iPhone. He rips the tie off and surprise surprise it's the iPhone 12.

"Mom is going to kill you." Timothy says first, before even thanking him, heart pounding from excitement and face split in two by the wide banana grin.

"Probably." He shrugs, unapologetic.

"Thanks, dad!" Timothy doesn't forget to add, eyes shiny and toothy grin even shinier.

He hopes so. That you're going to be mad. You two are too old to have petty fights now. You don't waste your energy in screaming and finding the worst things to say to hurt his feelings. You just cross your arms under your tits, clench your jaws and adopt that pout on your mouth, eyelids low and eyebrows high, the embodiment of condescendence and you look sexy as hell. He smiles and winks at you, calls you by an old pet name and you're swooning even though you try to hide it. No one is charming like he is, and no one charms you as he does therefore he's not too worried.

His son was just going around with this prehistorical device you dared to call a smartphone. With the broken screen, and the non-functioning selfie cam and the safari app needing a good ten minutes to charge one fucking page -this was deliberate as you wanted him to have a phone to call and text you and not go and lose himself on the internet or whatever. He's almost fourteen though and he's doing a great job at school and is such a good kid at home, he deserves it.

"I know and I don't care. I don't need you to tell me my son is good." You are infuriated. The perfect picture of you he had imagined, the only difference is that, you've just walked out of work, you seem to have had a rough day and your hair is a mess. With the wild locks hanging off of your bun, framing your pretty face, you look even better. "I don't want him to have something so expensive on him, first of all."

"His dad is richer than Cresus, what do you expect?" The cockiness dripping from every pore should suffice to make you explode. Of course, it doesn't. He has that stupid side grin. The one he's got you with in the first place.

"And what about- internet and even just the darn AppStore? He's too young to-"

"Are you worried about porn?" He frowns, you flush. That's precisely one of the things you think about. You don't want him to fall upon stuff he doesn't need to see -in your opinion for a good ten years at least- or start taking interest in social medias where creepy fuckers could hang out.

You flush because apparently, it's a word complicated still to hear from him. "I've made a parental software installed in it. And a localisation too. Not that we really need it with him but you know."

"Oh." All tension escapes from your torn face and tensed shoulders.

"Oh, wow, my first love is such a good dad." He mocks, voice high, hardly resembling yours, barely biting back a smirk. He even goes as far as swiping the right side of his bangs back, eyes closed, mannerism insufferable.

"Shut up." More flush. A fist to his chest for punishment. Bad idea. Apparently, he went back to the gym.

"You should be nicer because I have something for you too." He says, eyes glancing mischievously as his hand dips in the pocket of his trench coat. "Well. I don't want it." You cross your arms on your chest again which only serves to push your tits forward to him and he wonders what you're playing at. Probably the same game he plays when he winks and smiles and lifts his eyebrow to you.

"Wait 'til you see it." He sees the moment you realize it's a jewellery box. He reads the instant wild excitement, he catches also the gloomy shadow you try to paint over it because you don't want to accept it. How many times does he need to be told to stop? He won't ever stop.

"You can't buy me, Seokjin." You're eyeing the velour box in his hand, a tiny beautiful red in this large pearly white palm. You want it. You always do. You don't dare uncross your arms though because you know that if you even do something as reckless as taking it in your hand, just to have a look at it, you won't be able to refuse it.

"Of course, I can." More of that smirk. You glare, it makes him wheeze as he does.

You have never ever been able to refuse any of his shiny presents. You're not a gold digger, that's precisely why you felt so guilty all the time, accepting to receive from him things you could never afford for him -or yourself. He's born richer than you'll ever be, he loves to spend it on his loved ones -and on cars and designer clothes- and amongst everything else he loves, he adores covering you in shiny little rocks.

No one has ever worn diamonds the way you do. You look beautiful without them, magnificent with them. They were made to enhance your beauty and you were made to give them sense.

"You're such a dick." You say, tone way too monotonous to still have been in total control of your free will. Your eyes are glued to the shine of the two dainty clear earrings nested in the case. He's holding it open in front of your nose, like a hypnotizing stick. He sees your determination wavers. Your arms have just untied. Your hand is getting close. He smiles already savouring his victory.

"Take them, petal, I don't think your new boy could ever afford them." Your hand freezes mid-track, face falling you look up. He's a bit surprised to see guilt in those eyes. Shame and guilt. Even though, you have the right to see whoever you want. Obviously.

"How-" His head tilts slightly towards the hallway, where the bedrooms and the one Timothy is in, probably playing with his new phone. "Great. Bribing our son into giving you off my personal information."

"I gave him the iPhone after he told me." Seokjin feels the need to precise. His son loves him and he confided for this very reason. He wants to believe. He hopes that it's not because he's worried his dad would have a mental breakdown if he were to learn the news the day his mom would invite him to their wedding or something.

You sigh. You don't know what to say it seems. He doesn't want you to feel upset. He's not going to congratulate you either. He can't.

"Take them."

"He could- he's a doctor, you know." You sound like a petty little girl saying that, fingers aiming for the box but mouth reshaped by contempt.

Thankfully, the mesmerizing glee on your lovely face makes up for this last information.

A doctor.

He snorts, huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Are you really being disdainful over the noblest of all professions?"

"I bet he's not as handsome as I am." Seokjin says, staring away into space in a very Vogue kind of pose.

"And it's relevant because your face saves lives too, right?" You add to his clownery, biting on the smile wanting to take over your face.

"Precisely." You're already putting them on, watching your fingers work in the reflection on the microwave door. He's loving it. One is on, reflecting the light coming from the window, bringing a new sense to your whole stance. You don't look tired anymore. You look very fancy. Sexier than before. Your butt sways a little in excitement when you take a new look at yourself, now beautifully decorated and he's reminded of an idea he once had but never got to realize.

He wanted to have a fashion designer make a garter holder made of tiny diamonds. Solely diamonds. It would fit you just right, maybe a bit tight on you, would dig slightly in the meat of your thighs, enough to look fucking sinful and not too much so it doesn't hurt. He was quite young when he had the idea first and was probably not rich enough to make it happen.

He now owns a few palaces perched on the last stage of skyscrapers in three of the most expensive cities in the world and he would sell one in a beat if it meant he could get that for you and see you wear it for him.

You'd probably end up accepting it and then wear it for your new boy so that's out the question.

He doesn't hesitate when he reaches a hand forward, slip his fingers through the tie holding your hair in a bun and slide it off. You don't even flinch, he's still allowed to do that.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." You whisper with a smile, both for the compliment and for the present.

"You went to the hair salon." You nod, forcing yourself not to show your surprise. He doesn't need it to throw himself some flowers, "See? I noticed." He adds with way too much pride for so little.

"Your lenses work, congratulations." Sarcasm is the only answer to his stupidity, you both have figured this out long ago. "Is he nice?" Seokjin can't help but ask. He doesn't want to know too much about him. Kind of hopes that it won't be necessary as the guy won't last too long. But he can't resist his curiosity.

"Yes." You say without much of a hesitation. "Last week, he took me to this nice French restaurant in Songpa." You tell, eyes looking away, a bit pensive, mindlessly playing with one strand of your hair. Your face is taken over by that air. Seokjin realizes then that you really like him.

"I used to take you to very nice restaurants all the time, remember?" He's just messing around now. He knows it's not that relevant. Knows it won't get him higher in your regard,

"And I would spend half the date with the waiter while you'll have yours with your phone. I do remember." Especially given you don't recall your common past the same.

He does remember now that you mention it. His memory has been awfully selective and mainly, what he could picture when he thought about those times, is how beautiful you looked, how much he wanted you and felt like even sitting right next to you, he couldn't satisfy that need, was missing you even if you were right there, and the mind-blowing sex too. The later probably happening because he owed to make it up to you because indeed, his job was on the dates too and you hated that. He remembers the late mornings, the lazy ones, you'd make him carry you on his back because your legs and your hips hurt too badly.

"Ouch!" Toppling over, hand on his bosom where it actually really hurts, he yelps in agony, pretending to have been shot. You giggle and slap his shoulder, pester him to stop when you both hear Timothy ask from his room if everything's okay. You'd think he would know by now that his dad is just a clown whose shenanigans shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Are you seeing someone these days?" What a shame, Seokjin really thought for once he'd be solely cool and collected and handsome. Instead, he can feel his ears start to burn in embarrassment, walks a few steps back, pretending to want to throw a glance through the window when really, he'd do anything to not have see you notice.

"Someone?" He huffs. "Some three, actually some four or five. You know how the ladies get with me-" He sounds dumb as hell. It suffices to make you laugh. You've always laughed at his antics. Even when you were going through complicated times, like the pregnancy and the soon to follow break up, he'd try to dry your cheeks and lighten your gaze, heartbroken as he was to see you like that, and it would always work.

"And I know how bad you are with maths." He nods, doesn't look at you, simply stares at the shiny tip of his italian shoes. "You should call me sometimes, Jin." You don't need to tell him, he knows. You say that to him almost every single time. It's just you being kindhearted, the way you've always been. But first, he hates the idea that somehow, to some degree, it's a pity hand you're holding out for him. And secondly, he knows he'll fuck up if he calls.

He won't be able to talk about his job or politics or what's on the dumb tv these days. He'd probably start by asking what you're wearing and end it all by serenading you. What a bad idea. "You don't ever call, only Tim. Which is fine but-" He is lonely, he does miss you, but he's not that stupid. "I miss you too, you know." You look awfully sincere when you say this. There's still a sad shade to your eyes and he suspects it comes from you worrying about him rather than you simply wanting him more in your life. Maybe it's there for both reasons. He can't be mad at you for caring about him still, can he? Ultimately, it's sweet. It's not your fault he tends to be a loser in his very personal life.

He wouldn't know who he is trying to comfort when he strides forward and place a kiss on your cheek. The other one he's cradling in his palm feels warmer the longer he touches it. He doesn't let it go once he backs up and away. You're looking up to him with your eyes looking all round and childish. Quiet and in expectancy. You look like you do when you would wait for him to kiss you. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and he smirks.

"Expecting me to kiss you?" He asks with an eyebrow raised high. Pretend judgment in his tone, even remonstrance. As if. "How scandalous, when you already have a boyfriend." You know he's just kidding and he can tell that. He wouldn't play with that if he wasn't sure. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you feel wrong or bad in any way. He loves you too much for that. You could let him kiss you and he wouldn't hold you accountable for it. Therefore he does. Because he's dying to since the last time it happened a couple of weeks back. And when your own lips welcome his, with that much willing and tenderness, he suspects you've had too.

He doesn't allow it to go too far. He thought you would stop him, at some point, but you don't. He's the one pulling away when his tongue, instinctively, means to reach out for your own. He knows what comes after that, and what comes after that and after and after. And even if you transpire guilt and shame, he can sense in the way your eyes stare into his that you would have let it all happen.

He's not lacking in desire, he hopes you know that. Honestly, since earlier, and that random flash of the diamond garter holder, his brain is half clouded by the thought of your thighs and his face buried in between them. You used to make the most delicious sounds, pulling at the root of his hair and chasing your high with your hips. Also now that he's met your mouth again and he envisioned what could happen if he just let go, he can't help but think about that dresser in your room. The gigantic thing you wanted him and Timothy to put together as sort of a father and son enterprise to bound or whatever - he ended up paying a guy to do it for them and they played Mario Kart instead but you don't need to know that. Point of the matter is, that massive dresser has a massive mirror on its door and that massive mirror sits perfectly in front of your bed. And all he can think about is how bad he'd like to fuck you on your bed while you'd watch yourself in it. He'd pull back your hair, hold in tight in his fist like he knows you love so you could see your own cute face while his cock would reshape your cunt to its fitting, all this with the pretty little shiny earrings adorning your ears.

Fuck, what a concept.

And it is to say that right now, he knows, you'd let him. He's not that wicked though. He feels your too weak to resist him today therefore he's not even going to chance it. He doesn't want you to do something you'd hate yourself for afterwards.

"I should go, I still have documents to send for a new contract before-" He takes a look at the expensive watch heavy on his wrist, you roll your eyes. "Half an hour ago, great." He offers you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes no matter how hard he tries before he's off to the hallway, giving you his broad back. "I'm going to say bye to Tim."

"It's just- like that, Seokjin." The words are pretty badly chosen. They don't mean much. Seokjin still gets it though. He can picture you behind him, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. It doesn't mean much.

"I know, petal. Don't worry." He throws over his shoulder, faux lightness in his tone even though his heart feels raw. It doesn't mean enough, is more accurate. This kiss like every single one of your shared looks and words and bickering and touches, they all mean that you still fit perfectly good together. However, it's not enough because somehow, someday, you came to the conclusion that you were not meant to be. He's confused as to why and how he agreed with you then. Here's the main reason why he never calls you.

When Timothy looks up from his new phone, wearing your eyes and his smile, he feels a whole new range of pain affected to his sensitized heart. How can you not see that you're meant to be?

A/N: Happy Lunar New Year :) this little thingy was inspired by Arsène Lupin and the relationship between Assane and Claire for those who watched it! I don’t know if i translated well the alchimy and unfightable attraction and connection they still have even after having seperated. ANYWAY, hope you all are doing fine, hope you liked this, LET ME KNOW what you thought, tell me about your day, your resolutions if you have any, what’s the weather like where you at etc lmao xoxo

PS: stay tuned for a new upcoming series i’m quite excited about ~~

#btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #bts scenario #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin scenario

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Satisfied [Chapter 6]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I don’t wanna look like this, fuck”

Previously on Never Satisfied:

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time.

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

* * *

Corpse sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s been trying to step up a little with the dressing game since he’ll be having a special guest over - ok, truth be told, he didn’t invite her, she invited herself but he’s glad she did. Lord knows he wants her company and wants her around but he could never bring himself to invite her over or initiate a hangout. Good thing Cora doesn’t expect anything from him, not of that nature at least. It’s oddly amazing having a person like her - someone who basically reads his mind like an open book and then takes action according to what she’s read. It’s not only the fact that she accurately gauges all his wants and needs, but also how she knows exactly what to do to satisfy them. To calm him down, to relieve his anxiety, to make him feel comfortable. He feels strangely selfish for always being on the receiving end of this friendship, although he doesn’t see much he could do for her. He’s decided to let time have full control of the course of their relationship, hoping his giver time would come soon.

As of now, however, it still hasn’t and he can stomach that.

It’s been about a week and a half since their first hangout but he hasn’t missed her once. That may be due to how much they’ve been texting ever since he unlocked that checkpoint she offered him. To be more specific, it probably has something to do with the fact that her texts are always so full of life and light, sounding almost like she’s there with him, talking in her signature upbeat and bubbly way which is such a contrast to his own melancholic approach to any conversation ever.

She’s also sent him a ton of memes and selfies, plus pictures she took of clients’ pets. In return for her kindness, he’s sent her bad jokes, weird internet articles about ghosts and pictures of the current game he was playing. Needless to say, their chats have been very colorful.

Now that the scene has been set up a little better, a direct timeline of events lading up to this one would be appreciated, wouldn’t it? Ok so, it all started with an “I’m bored” text Corpse received from Cora about two hours ago. Instinctively, and partially because he didn’t have any idea what else he could possibly say in response to that he sent back an apology. An apology Cora apparently deemed a loophole she could use to invite herself over cause that’s exactly what she did, not that Corpse minds it much. In fact, he felt his heartbeat quicken with excitement when her “K then, I’ll be there in a bit :)” text came in. At first he thought it was his anxiety kicking in but when he realized the rest of his typical symptoms remained absent it took him a little while to pinpoint what that emotion could be.

The epiphany came in the form of the word ‘excitement’.

Regardless of the newfound feeling, or maybe exactly because of it, he attempted to protest. A protest she killed easily with a threatening “I know where you live” text which sent Corpse scrambling to get the apartment in some kind of order. Himself too, it’s safe to say he wasn’t looking the most presentable when he received that message.

His cleaning session consisted mostly of him shoving the strewn about items in his closet and closing it shut like a wild beast dwelled inside, placing a chair in front of the door as a sign for her not to open it and also as a way of preventing the thing from opening on its own because of how overflowing it was.

Afterwards he scrambled into the shower to scrub himself down. It’d been too much for him to tackle given he wasn’t doing too well mentally, but considering he was now suddenly expecting company he thought it’d be for the best not to subject his new friend to the three-day-unshowered Corpse stank.

Right now, his main focus is his face, his stomach sinking at the sight of himself in the mirror’s reflection.

How does she even want to see me?

His mirror is cracked along the right side, spider web-like cracks reaching towards the center of it from the impact point serving as a reminder of a particularly bad night he’d rather forget.

He sighs as he combs his hair, knowing the dark curls won’t oblige and behave no matter how much he tries. He touches his jaw, deciding to let himself off the hook by deeming that a shave wouldn’t be necessary for at least another day. And then his eyes land on his clothes - an outfit it didn’t take him long to put together since those are the only articles of clothing in his closet he’d consider presentable enough to be shown off in front of a new friend who is yet to find out how much of a slob he really is. That clothing choice consists of a black button-up shirt and jeans.

This is nice, right? It’s fine. It’s business casual but definitely leaning more towards casual, as some would say. I look...nice, decent. I’ll take it - it’s enough. Far better than my ‘usual’.

A knock at the door startles him, though it’s quickly followed by a voice he’s grown to find very endearing:

“THIS IS THE COPPAS! OPEN UP YA’ DOOR!” The voice yells out, probably loud enough for the whole complex to hear but it’s not like he gives a shit. And, as context clues show, neither does she.

Corpse exits his bathroom, heading for the front door, pulling the chain off and unlocking the deadbolt before opening it. The object of his newfound affection stands on the other side, grinning and beaming with that usual light she has surrounding her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun - a hairstyle she seems to love - and she’s wearing a simple red t-shirt covered in little chubby, cartoonish black cats that seem to be struggling to exist.

He smiles a little, finding it in himself to speak up but when he opens his mouth to do so, she cuts him off.

“Jesus, did you just come back from a funeral?” She asks, pulling at one of the buttons on his chest as she walks past him, letting herself in.

His eyes, completely on their own accord, wander down as she walks on by, causing him to swallow hard as he finds himself staring at a pair of tanned legs, patterned by the fishnets she’s wearing, leading up to a pair of short black shorts.

She turns on her heel about halfway down the hall, leading him to take an inevitable notice of how her well-loved boots could use a polish. Anyhow, he snaps his gaze away to hide the fact he’s been gawking, despite not really meaning to.

“No, but for real, why are you wearing that? You seem super confined and uncomfy, bud.”

Corpse blinks before swallowing and glancing down at himself, pulling at the button she touched before looking back up, his gaze traveling up the length of her legs. She has suspenders hanging over her thighs, more of an accessory than a necessary addition to her outfit. “I just...I dunno, I thought it looked nice. Does it not? I mean, I wouldn’t know, really. I don’t usually dress like this.”

“I mean, you look dapper as fuck but if you’re not comfortable then change, get your comfy game on. I’m the last person you need to impress in this world.”

God, she sees right through him. Even so, he considers protesting, trying to convince it’s all fine, that he likes this shirt and the outfit in its entirety. But her stare sets the record straight for him - she’ll know it’s all lies. And with that in mind, he lets his shoulders fall. Not a full second passes before he promptly starts undoing his buttons.

“Oh, thank fuck.” She comments as he goes to retreat into his room, stripping the shirt off as he walks, unaware of her lingering eyes on his back, unaware of her lower lip bitten between her pearly teeth. Unaware of the subtle shift in her stance as she looks him over much like he did her moments earlier.

When he returns a moment later in a simple dark grey t-shirt, she greets him with a grin and pats his chest. “Much better.”

It doesn’t take long for them to decide to crash on his couch, throw on a bad movie and just sit in comfortable silence. Comfortable silence - something that usually eats away at him and is anything but comfortable he now sees as calming, a soothe to his ever-racing mind.

Disrespecting the movie, Corpse takes to analyzing his guest instead. She has so much confidence, he can’t help but notice, like she’s been here hundreds of times, known him for so long. He hates her a little for it. Well, it’s not quite hate, it leans more toward envy. Jealousy. That human-nature characteristic of wanting what someone else has but you desperately need/wish you had. In his mind, she’s almost selfish: Why couldn’t she share some of that confidence and carefree manner with the rest of the world? It oozes out of her like a drip of honey from a beehive, sweet and warm. And all he wants yet has none of.

He instinctively tenses up as he feels her move closer before, suddenly, her head drops into his lap, legs kicked over the armrest of the couch. He holds his breath almost subconsciously, staring at her as she remains focused on the television. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he puts one across the back of the couch and the other awkwardly bent above his head. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he touches her. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep nor does he want to overstep any of her boundaries, despite the fact she’s walking a dangerous line of overstepping his. Well, that would’ve been the case if this was done by anyone but her. The way Corpse comes to this realization is when he figures out that he really doesn’t mind this proximity, as long as he doesn’t embarrass himself or creep her out in any way.

What felt like an eternity passes before she finally speaks up, still without looking away from the movie playing on the screen opposite the couch, “You know, I can feel how tense you are.”

His face flushes with embarrassment, heating up as his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome of this situation.

She’ll probably sit up, or leave, he thinks to himself, heart thumping in his ears as he tries to observe her face the best he can from this angle. Nevertheless, he swallows that fear as she rolls her head to look up at him with those large glittering doe eyes, grinning a bit as she seems to always do, “You can just put your hands wherever it’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind.”

He hesitates for a moment but, as always, he doesn’t get much say cause she makes the choice for him, knowing that pesky fear is keeping him immobile. She takes the hand from over his head and pulls it down to rest just next to her skull. She then drags the one resting at the back of the couch, placing it so his hand is resting dead-center on her stomach. Satisfied with how she’s rearranged his posture, she goes back to watching the movie but not before asking: “This okay?” while looking at him through her peripheral vision.

He’d have to admit it’s far more comfortable like this.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay?” He asks, feeling relieved when he feels her nod against his leg.

He moves his hand a little and swallows hard as he contemplates if he really should make the move he’s thinking of at the moment. And then he abruptly decides not to think. So, instead, he acts on it.

Without thinking of any potential negative consequences, Corpse slides his fingers to lace with hers, resting their conjoined hands on her stomach in the same spot where she left his hand a bit ago. She curls her digits around his tighter as reassurance that it’s ok. Her palm feels warm in his hand, her thumb tracing his cold metal rings.

Checkpoint...his checkpoint.

Is this what it feels like to be normal?, he wonders, Is this what it feels like to really connect with someone? He has never felt this before. He’s never met someone who has such an effect on him, understand him like this - Without even having to ask she grounded him; she knew what he needed and didn’t make him feel like an idiot about it. Instead she gave him the comfort he needed.

And suddenly he finds himself afraid - realizing that this isn’t simply a vibe of two buddies hanging out. He has that subtle ache in his chest that’s telling him he wants something…something substantial from this friendship. He wants this to last, or for it to blossom, he’s not sure yet. But for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to figure it out. That’s one of the many effects this girl has on him - she’s the definition of improvisation, unpredictable and alive. He’s slowly learning to let loose himself, all thanks to her. Slowly, he’s learning to trust time.

He abruptly realizes he’s glancing at her often as the movie is still running, examining her features and slowly running his gaze down the length of her fishnet-clad thighs before quickly looking away, mentally scolding himself. It’s hard, but he manages to turn his gaze elsewhere for his sake and hers. For the sake of keeping things normal, platonic and not in any way awkward for either of them. The last thing he needs is to make things weird by letting his mind wander and activate his libido and then she’d really notice how tense he is.

Cora remains oblivious to what’s going on in his head, thank God, as she continues running her thumb across his knuckles, eyes half lidded in calm content - something that’d typically seem like the complete opposite of what she is. He likes seeing her like this, tamed almost. He feels like no one else has had the privilege to see this calm side of her. Maybe that’s not the truth - it probably isn’t - but he still feels special, knowing that it’s a tight circle of people who have seen her this way.

And then he realizes the movements of her thumb on his hand have stopped.

He freezes for a moment, his fearful gaze travelling to her face where he’s relieved to find her eyes closed only seconds before he hears a light snore escape her.

She’s fallen asleep.

It’s an odd scene. She’s such a wild and free spirit, seeing her fall asleep like this is like observing an abnormality, a paranormal event. You know, like something one doesn’t usually believe exists or is capable of happening. He’d never before been able to imagine her asleep. It’s ridiculous, he’s aware - she’s human after all, but his mind has never been able to comprehend the thought and image of her captured by the power of sleep. He simply couldn’t see it happening. But now that it’s happened in front of him, he can’t look away from the sight of her relaxed, peaceful features, overcome by sudden slumber.

And then he comes to the realization that he’s now practically held hostage on his own couch, crippled by the danger of waking her up. It’s gonna be a long while, isn’t it, he thinks to himself, yet there’s still a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that’s a result of knowing he’s held hostage by her. That’s more a blessing than a curse, if he’s being honest.

@fockingwhore @vixenl @annshit @wineandionysus @wiseflamingoqueen

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jazzywrites · 3 years

Text

Mute but still family

Sbi fanfic

Warning: angst, mentions of death, selectively mute Techno.

————————————————————————————————————————

Technoblade has always been the quiet guy who had quick comebacks. His little remarks would cause the entire room to burst into a fit of laughter. They came so easily to Techno, like second nature.

Recently though, after Wilbur’s death, Techno had become quieter than normal. He wouldn't respond with his signature comeback. Even when Tommy made a stupid statement, or when he commented on Techno’s over-the-top dress wear. He would just stare, his face blank, no emotion evident on his face.

This caused multiple awkward moments when Tommy was trying to get a reaction out of him. Pushing all of the buttons he knows Techno had. In return, he'd receive a glare from the piglin.

No yelling, no snarls, or even an invite to a fight. Which Tommy enjoyed but would always end up on the ground, the tip of a sword to his throat.

Techno let out a sigh, he was working on another sword, just a backup. A precaution if you will.

He hasn't seen Tommy since the destruction of L’manburg.

Their fight.

The fight Techno wanted to resolve so badly. He wanted to explain his reasonings more in-depth to the boy. Wanted to have his little brother back, but he couldn't. Techno didn't want Tommy to know he misses him. He didn't want him to know he loathes the time without him. He most definitely didn’t want him to know he thinks about their adventures together all the time.

The laughter they had together. It brings a smile to the man’s face. That same smile dissolving as he remembered, Tommy hated him. Feels hostility toward his entire being. Loathes him practically.

The piglin sighed with distress. The voices were quiet too. The one time he wants them to talk they are quiet.

Techno stood up from his hunched position over the anvil. A few cracks came from his back, causing him to groan.

He walked across the bridge connecting his house to Phil’s.

Speaking about Phil, he hasn't been home in a while. He was going to get resources a week ago.

A week?

Techno knew for a fact getting resource didn't take a week. This caused a worrying sensation to itch the back of Techno’s brain.

He knows Phil can take care of himself. He knows Phil is strong. But that didn’t stop him from thinking Phil could be in danger. A danger that Phil couldn’t handle by himself.

Techno straightens his back, he’ll be fine. Phil can handle himself. He didn’t need him for a simple resource run.

He walked down the stairs looking around the snowy land, spotting Ranboo’s cabin in the mountainside. Having the sweet hybrid around was nice, refreshing even. Seeing someone so genuinely nice was something Techno hasn't been around much. Other than Phil.

He debated asking the hybrid if he's seen Phil but decided against it.

He walked to the crow’s wheat farm, all grown to full length, a week's worth of growth. That same worrying pain that began in his brain inched its way into his chest, causing him to start quickly walking to the hybrid house. All thought about Phil’s strength was lost.

He knocked harshly on the iron door. Waiting impatiently for him to open up.

He jumped when it opened up to see the taller hybrid, a confused look on his face.

“Oh hello, Techno. What's wrong?” Ranboo walked out of his house to stand straight and look at the distressed piglin.

Techno, who couldn’t speak, started to sign aggressively.

“Have you seen Phil?” Ranboo, who knew of Techno’s recent muteness, responded.

“No, I haven’t. You think somethings wrong?” Techno nods worryingly, this made Ranboo stand up straighter, he got the same chest pains Techno had felt moments ago.

“Would you like help to find him? I can help,” Ranboo asked desperately. Techno nodded, starting to quickly walk back to his house, Ranboo following right behind him.

Techno grabbed Orphan Obliterator and started his journey to the Nether portal. Ranboo trying to catch up to the piglin.

“Where are we going?” Ranboo asked, slouching his back so he can speak to Techno properly. Techno signed;

“I’m not sure,” and continued to stand in the purple portal. He honestly didn’t know where they were going. Phil didn’t tell him what resources he was getting. The fact that he had no general idea where his father was, was making Techno anxious.

Phil, besides Ranboo, was the only one that hasn’t left him. That hasn’t betrayed his trust. So him not telling him any piece of info wasn’t like him.

Thinking about Phil in danger made Techno’s legs move faster. Made him take shortcuts to...

To...

L’manburg’s portal. Tommy. He needs him. Ironically needs his voice. How he always knows how to make a sad situation light-hearted. He needs that. He yearns for Tommy’s comfort.

He walked down the stairs heading for where he knew Tommy would be. Tommy was chilling on his and Tubbo’s shared bench, looking at the beautiful scenery in front of him.

Techno pushed Ranboo to get his attention, once he got it, he point at Tommy. Ranboo understood what he asked and yelled for the blonde;

“Tommy!”

The blonde looked over, a smile on his face hearing his friend's voice but is soon disappeared seeing his brother. The same brother that betrayed him. That destroyed his home, the place he loved oh so dearly.

“What is he doing here?” The poison in the youngest voice caused pain in Techno’s heart. Pain, which caused him to let out a shaky breath.

“We are looking for Phil. You seen him?” Ranboo asked, even though he’s receiving disrespect, he still responds with such genuine kindness. It makes Techno's pain simmer down, but it was still evident.

“No, haven’t seen the old man. How long has he been gone?” He was looking at Ranboo, not giving Techno the bare minimum as eye contact. Unfortunately, Ranboo couldn’t respond, he didn’t know. So he glanced at the broad pig.

Techno, not speaking, responded with sign language;

“A week.”

The hand movements made Tommy roll his eyes.

“Just speak, bro.”

The sentence hurt Techno. Hurt him more than it should. He knew why Tommy was being sour but it’s been a long time.

He looked down in defeat. Why couldn’t he speak? Why was he like this? He used to speak all the time. It just wouldn’t come out, he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. Was it because of Wilbur’s death, or was he just pathetic?

“Tommy, we aren't here for arguing. We just want to know where Phil is, ” Ranboo explained sternly but still kind in his wording. Tommy took and deep breath and nodded.

“Okay, I haven’t seen him, but I’ll keep my eye out.” He gave Ranboo a reassuring smile. He didn't even look in Techno’s direction.

Fine.

If Tommy wanted to be that way, then so be it. He puffed out his chest and gave him a huff. His snout unleashing bits of smoke. He hasn't been in his human form in a while, all he understands why is that he doesn't want to be vulnerable. He's on edge all the time in that form.

He spun around, furious. Stomping away like a pathetic child. He couldn't even express his feelings to Tommy and that's what pisses him off. Tommy doesn't know he loves him still. Tommy doesn't know that he is sorry that he had to do what he did. Tommy didn't know he still cares for him so much.

He heard Ranboo call after him in his fit of self-doubt and anger. Running over, Ranboo’s hand landed on his shoulder to try and get his attention. Techno spun around, breath coming from his snout blowing into the enderman’s face.

“What’s up with you?” Ranboo asked with so much desperate concern. Techno huffed again and started to sign violently;

“Why can’t he just understand that I had to do it. Also, he thinks that I can just speak. I physically can’t. He’s such a fucking brat. We are family! He should act like family! Family doesn’t do what he’s doing!”

Techno’s facial expressions were showing his true emotion. He was the most upset Ranboo has ever seen. He swore he could see tears brimming his crimson eyes.

Ranboo’s heart shattered. Crumbling down to the endless pit that was his stomach. Techno had turned his head to the side to hide the tears that were streaming down his face. Techno wiped them off and stood up straighter puffing out his chest once again.

He strode to Tommy his stomps shaking the ground so much that Ranboo felt it in his feet. Techno taking a deep breath like he was about to speak but began to sign, already knowing that Tommy can read sign language.

Tommy was the one trying so hard to learn. He wanted to be able to speak to techno without using paper. He was so happy the first time Techno understood what he said. Techno was going quickly though. It took Tommy a second to process what his brother was saying;

“You are so unbelievably selfish! You were barely even bothered by Wilbur’s death. I don't know why I can't speak! That is known of your business anyways. We are trying to find OUR father and you just wanted to keep an eye out for him? Not even a little concerned that he might be in danger? We are your family! Family Tommy! I'm sorry for what I did to your home but I had to! To save you from the government! I love you, Tommy. You are family! Family! Family... Family..”

Techno was crying at this point as he aggressively signed ”Family” to Tommy, whose eyes were wide with the same tears that shed when Techno left. The night after l’manburg fell he cried to Tubbo all night and all of the next day.

“Techno... You... I'm sorry, ” Tommy lunged to hug Techno tightly. Techno’s large arms wrapped around the small boy. Techno was imagining that Tommy was a baby again. So small and cute, so much ambition in that small body of his.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy cried in Technos shoulder slowly lowering back down to the ground, only to realize it was Techno getting shorter. Tommy lifted his head to see Techno. Normal Techno.

People would always say they think Techno would have long pink hair due to his piglin gene. It was the opposite, though. He was Wilburs twin, after all. Wilbur’s signature short fluffy brown hair was his too.

He looked like Wilbur, every time he looked in the mirror, unwelcome tears would cascade down his face.

“Family, ” Techno signed with the emotion he wanted to express on his face. Tommy nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

“Family,” Tommy copied Techno’s hands.

Ranboo, still standing behind them, tears being quickly wiped away before hitting his cheeks.

“Need a tissue?”

Ranboo quickly twisted to see Phil, his wings tucked in tightly, and weirdly enough, he looked skinnier than when he last saw him.

“Phil?! Where were you? Techno was worrying me, man.”

Phil laughed, “I’m fine, I just got caught lacking food.”

Ranboo’s eyes widened. He couldn’t figure out why he didn’t ask any more questions. Their moment ended when Phil started to yell at them.

“Hey mate! I’m fine by the way!”

Techno’s face was shocked and confused at the same time.

“Where were you?!” Techno signed aggressively.

“I got stuck getting a fuck tone of cobblestone!”

“Oh!”

Phil laughed and smiled when Techno wrapped his arm around Tommy’s shoulder. He was listening with such genuine happiness as Tommy spoke about the new things happening in his life.

“They love each other,” Ranboo smiles and looks at Phil cheerfully. Phil laughed and nodded at him in agreement.

“Yep, anyways, I’m going to have much food I pass out.”

“Okay, Phil, have fun!”

They wave “bye” at each other as Ranboo makes his way back home.

————————————————————————————————————————

It was weeks after Tommy’s and Techno’s reunion. They were inseparable. They would be out practicing their fighting or just in front of the fireplace. Tommy passed out while Techno kept him warm as he read.

Techno had started speaking with only a few words in a sentence. His growth in his speech, though, was relieving to his father and his brother, his family.

They were all eating at Techno’s dinner table. Everyone was together.

Ranboo, Phil, Tommy, Tubbo, and Niki. Techno studdered for a second but managed to let out. He has the first genuine smile he'd had in a long time.

“M-my family.”

________________________________________

That was cool hoped you guys liked it.

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

Note

Let's ask the hard questions here, baby. What do you think the series would have been like had it been Nesta Archeron under the mountain?

BABE this is it-this is the best question I’ve ever been asked.

For one thing, chaotic. For another: I think the simple substitution reframes the whole structure of the narrative. It’s not about a journey to power that fights Evil Tyranny (abused Human to Hero to High Lady).

It’s a story about the people working around, beside, under the powerful Lords- and the difficult choices they make. Less Hero’s Journey more, Look, These Are the Real Heroes.

Let’s start with Spring. We know now that the whole you killed a faery now you have to come to faeryland thing was an insanely shitty ruse. So maybe Andras is still alive. Maybe Feyre killed him and Nesta successfully protected her sisters. Maybe Tamlin is just a twat and went that one is pretty. ANYWAY-

Nesta gets to Spring. Lucien doesn’t immediately despise her, for, you know, murdering and skinning his only friend (a handy sublimation of the anger he can’t express against his High Lord). Nesta was raised in the fucking gentry and Nesta can play the game- it’s a question of willingness.

Feyre is a lot more willing to roll with weird circumstances for caution. Nesta is, to her bones, an aggressor. Empty manor doesn’t add up? She’s going to say something so cutting, and so infuriating to Tamtam she ends up seeing all the faeries. She steels herself, refuses to be afraid of Alis, and asks questions. (See, Nesta’s first IC dinner, zeroing in on the scariest faery and refusing to flinch)

At some point, there’s a confrontation.

But it’s not between Nesta and Tamlin. Now, in canon Tamtams is extremely willing to drag his feet on the curse. In this version, that is so much worse- sure, he’s into Nesta (Nesta, recall, just looks like sharper Feyre), but Nesta takes one look at this fragile immortal man child and roasts the shit out of him. What’s he going to do? Kill her? Negates all the stupid trouble he went to. Punish her? He clearly needs her for something.

Tamlin cannot handle that. There are no Romantic Moments. Nes spends calanmai watching faeries do weird shit out her window. She sure as fuck doesn’t drink faery wine and dance for Tamlin at the solstice. It is not happening.

So Nesta spends a lot of time alone, wandering around. Talking to Lucien, Alis, random-ass faeries out of sheer reckless ego, reading every book in the ugly manor.

Nesta confronts Lucien. I’m going to go with after the wingless dead faerie and the head in the garden. The stupid blight conversation.

This works differently and better than Feyre’s attempts to get more information for I think, two important reasons. 1) Lucien and Nesta speak the same language in acotar. It’s all anger babes- sharp edged, sexy, bullshit. There’s no cycle of forgiveness then softening- they are the same, too the same, tired and self-hating survivalists bored out of their minds in a gilded death trap.

and 2) Nesta and Feyre are quintessentially perceived differently. Feyre is hopeful- tenacious, young, free. She shakes up things for these old ass faeries and gives them something to believe in. It’s youth for the eternally young.

Nesta...is not that. She gets under your skin, forever. Multiple faeries meet her throughout the books and have very extreme reactions to that- but what matters at this point, as a mortal- Nesta reads as an adult. She’s immune to glamour. Her strength isn’t kindness or an open heart, it’s fucking steel that might take your last breathe.

And look, Lucien would respond to that. Tamlin...isn’t even talking to the girl his people died to get him. The curse is almost over and they’re all going to get tortured. Nesta, has, from day one, known something is wrong- she’s so angry, and it makes it easier for Lucien to be angry.

It’s not hunting bros who become Real Friends, it’s fire and gasoline. Empowerment.

So, I haven’t read acotar in ages- but I’m pretty sure they literally couldn’t tell her about Tamlin’s curse. But Lucien can communicate around the magical fuckery- there’s a great evil. The kids in Winter are all dead because of another High Lord.

And look, Nesta cares about dead kids. She even, begrudgingly, cares about Lucien. She does not give a single flying fuck about the High Lords.

But Lucien, in this world, is the first one to say it: Hybern.

Amarantha is Hybern’s general, and Hybern wants all of Prythian. All of it.

Nesta is absolutely going to walk into the fire to keep the humans- and by extent, her sisters- safe from faeries.

Tamlin- because he does not love Nesta- doesn’t send her away. Doesn’t crush any savage hope Lucien harbored, doesn’t do shit. He gives up.

And so Spring is dragged beneath the Mountain.

Nesta has exactly two advantages on her side: she can see through glamour, so she’s not 100% disoriented and vulnerable (just..you know, terrified), and sheer force of will.

Amarantha likes will. She likes to break it, and there are so few real contenders left after her victory.

Nesta doesn’t bargain- Nesta doesn’t beg for Tamlin’s life and love- she asks to win her own.

Amarantha wants to crush her like a bug. Insignificant little human- but wouldn’t it be more fun to watch each little crack form?

So she gets the riddle. Tamlin’s power is thrown in like the boring chekovs gun that it is. Lucien (probably) gets beat up because Lucien always gets beat up under the Mountain.

Nesta has two choices: she can answer the (stupidly cliched, easy) riddle right there, and try to walk out. (Nesta knows she’s not making it out alive). Or she can wait, and play the game. (She’ll be damned if she doesn’t take that insane bitch and maybe Tamlin down with her. Her only ally is Lucien and he’s being hauled off with a bleeding headwound soo..)

Nesta lets herself be dragged away. She doesn’t fight.

Let us remember again, that the Archeron sisters are built like a triptych. A presumable almost mother maiden crone. They look alike, especially Nesta and Feyre. If Rhysie boy thinks Feyre is hot at first glance, guess what he also thinks about Nesta?

So, yes, of course he goes to offer a deal. And let’s be clear on something- when Feyre hated Rhysands guts, what did he like about her? That she was beautiful, absolutely didn’t give a fuck, and what’s that? Fought with him.

She lets him heal her, but then- Nesta won’t even talk to him. Nothing he does works. They come to agreement (which Rhysand finds fascinating, a human with loyalty, that human heart) that Nesta will listen to Rhysand’s offer if and when, he delivers to her a whole, safe, Lucien Vanserra.

Rhys frames this as emotional torture. Incentive. He doesn’t need to play evil as well- Nesta hates fucking faeries. And she knows he killed a bunch of children.

So Lucien gets thrown in the cell. Minimally healed. About to embark on the misery train, self-deprecating laughter at the fact he’s healed, now, because of Nesta.

Lucien: so nice of you to make sure we’re all pretty before we die, Archeron. Final night spent huddling for warmth together?

Nesta: Shut up. Shut up- tell me why the fuck Rhysand would be trying to make a deal with me.

They come to the conclusion that, while Rhysand is a monster, he also has no control of his own. He’s completely under Amarantha’s thumb, and apparently, wants out.

Nesta, because she always goes for the jugular, has another thought: Are you really going to go back to Spring after this? He gave up. He gave up and you were rotting in a cell.

Lucien, to whom Nesta is both gasoline and mean friend catnip, but who is also a Sad Boi: where else can I go?

So they make a plan. Rhysand thinks Nesta is the key to killing Amarantha? Cool, Amarantha needs to die. Tamlin is the only High Lord who has access to his power more readily? Tamlin needs to do the killing.

What does Nesta want? There to be no Hybern coming to burn the land where her sisters live. To go back, to go home- but Nesta doesn’t think, even for a second, she’s really going to make it out alive. And if she does, as she thinks late at night, of Feyre’s laugh, or Elain’s quiet humor- how will it ever be safe? They live on the Wall.

Nesta is known to faeries now- Nesta is infamous, and there’s nothing to stop anyone, should her presence lead them back to her home.

Nesta privately decides Tamlin should die too.

So when the time comes, and Rhysand is like, I’ll protect you, you’ll be mine and you’ll be healed- Nesta says no. Nesta, because she really has never learned to back down- looks dead in the eye of the High Lord of Night, the monster who sleeps beside Amarantha and says: safe passage.

She’ll do what Rhys wants, for this: Lucien Vanserra’s safe passage to a safe place, and for Rhysand to promise not to get in her way when she answers the riddle.

Rhys still wants her to come to the Night Court- for whatever nebulous reasons he wanted Feyre to...which only make sense AFTER she’s changed by the High Lords...which Rhysie couldn’t have known, BUT ANYWAY- Nesta says yes. She doesn’t expect she’ll be alive to pay.

Lucien sulks back to Tamlin’s side, and spends a few weeks between challenges laying it on thick. A quiet whisper that grows, a perfect stroke to Tamlin’s volatile ego. How dare Amarantha, how dare Nesta- Tamlin is a Lord, Tamlin is Spring- Tamlin, who has suffered so much more than the other Lords, deserves his power back.

Nesta is dragged out for the final challenge.

In one of the long, dangerous hallways, her guards look the other way for just a moment- for a visitor. The High Lady of Autumn knows her son is safe because of this girl.

She hands Nesta a knife. A small gift- all she can. Steel, not ash, small enough it will go unnoticed.

Nesta is dragged before the throne, before the High Lords, Tamlin and Amarantha, Rhysand.

Nesta answers the riddle.

And when Amarantha refuses to abide the rules- Tamlin, carefully manipulated without coordinating by both Rhys and Lucien, goes apeshit.

This does not stop Amarantha from hurting Nesta. The opposite- she’s trapped in the fight between them. When Amarantha does give Tamlin over the power, it doesn’t stop- unloved by even a human, and now she’d take any chance he’d had to win her as he really was.

Nesta doesn’t stab Amarantha. Nesta lays there, bleeding to death, biding her time.

Tamlin murders Amarantha. Rhysand doesn’t beg, but he’s there, getting growled at by Lucien as he tried to staunch Nesta’s wounds.

Amarantha dies, and Tamlin, glowing with power, makes his way to Nesta. They think he’s going to heal her- to try, but Tamlin is Tamlin, so he pulls her into his arms.

Nesta, who knows she’s going to die- Nesta, who was taken from her home, her family, deprived of her life by the choices of this man- Nesta lets Tamlin embrace her, the arrogant, stupid bastard, and stabs him in the throat.

It is the golden, desperate words of Lucien Vanserra that convince the High Lords to heal her. It is Rhysand who tries first, who gives the most. After all- Tamlin had been too selfish to try, and they’d all suffered for it. Faery justice: swift and bloody.

Nesta had died victorious. Nesta died with a bloody autumn court dagger in one hand and the grip of her only real friend in the other- but death was chaos. Skies and stars and howling wind, love and blood and war.

A thousand miles away, Cassian awoke screaming, clawing at his own chest.

She climbed through blood and battle, dreams and hope, floated to an infinite sky: and found herself alive.

Breathing, whole, an immortal monster. On her way to the Court of Night with Lucien by her side.

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