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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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harmless (v)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, ghosts, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, rats

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: why did i like this chapter sm someone explain. anyway!! y’all are so passionate about these two i love it mwah

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He dislikes the subway.

Other than his other valid reason to have disdain for trains, the subway is dark, it’s shady and he’s sure he’s seen rodents fight to the death here on several occasions.

Still, he’s following you down the stairs of the station, watching as you whistle along to the song blasting through your headphones. There’s a backpack swung over your shoulders, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie and converse doing a skip every now and then. There’s a bandana that’s tied across your face, acting as a mask to hide your identity.

He realises that you’re dressed like a commuter. Were you going to dress the part every single time?

You walk along with the crowd. He follows, a few feet away.

Until you stop. He abruptly stops too, leading someone to walk right into him.

“Watch it, dumbass,” they hiss with the courage of someone who has no idea who he is. He ignores them.

He looks on as you dig around your backpack and pull out a roll of paper. A poster, he realises soon when you peel off a layer from the back and press it to the wall.

Was it legal to put up posters in the subway? He wasn’t quite sure.

He observes as you turn around and continue down the path. He waits a few seconds before trailing up to the poster.

Volunteers needed!

If you’re interested in being turned into a ghost for a couple of hours, this is your chance! Should be okay with being on camera so that we can make money off of taped paranormal sightings.

Paid opportunity. You get to pick your outfit. Randos don’t apply.

He yanks the poster of the wall before continuing down the same place you did.

He finds another poster along the way. He doesn’t hesitate in pulling it down. You were advocating to kill people.

He knows he’s going in the right direction because more posters creep up along the wall.

The both of you are on the platform by now but to him, something changes about the placement of the posters. They were growing in frequency, the distance between them decreasing as they were situated close to each other.

He pauses in front of the next one, hand hovering over the paper.

All it reads is ‘STOP’.

He furrows his eyebrow, pulling it down before peering over at the next one.

‘TAKING’, is all that it says.

It doesn’t take him very long to make his way through all the posters in the hallway.

‘THESE’

‘DOWN’

The train’s arrived by now but a quick scan over the crowd and he knows that you haven’t entered. That, and he knew that you were too dramatic to leave without a trace or a small conversation with him.

‘DICKHEAD’

Tasteful, he thinks.

“It took effort to make them, stop ruining it,” you whine from the end of the hallway. It’s empty, given that rush hour was over a while ago.

Even though the mask covers half your face, it’s obvious that there is mischief etched under it. The twinkle in your eye is telling.

“You’re literally killing people.” He holds up the poster. Not the ‘dickhead’ one. He pockets that for later.

He knows there are a few minutes before the next train arrives and more people flood the station. The eccentricity of today lay in the lighting from the incandescent lamps and acoustics of the platform. It made his voice echo like a movie scene.

“I very much am not,” you huff.

“You’re turning them into ghosts. That’s what a murderer does,” he says pointedly.

“Well, only if you keep saying it like that. You’re making me look bad.” You cross your arms across your chest. “What are you, Fox News?”

A scurry next to him earns his attention. Two rats nibble at a piece of fallen food. He wonders when they’ll starting brawling.

“Explain this.” He waves the poster around. He isn’t taking it too lightly he hopes. If it’s actual murder then it’s going to be an issue.

You pull out a black cylinder, slightly bigger than a pen. He can’t really see any more details, but you hold onto it like a wand.

“I’m turning them into ghosts. I’ll post videos of them doing stupid shit. I get famous and then boom, cash money.” You rub your index finger and thumb together. “I’ll give you a share if you volunteer.”

“You’re not explaining the death part.”

He can feel it. You’re about to start derailing.

“Winter Soldier, the ghost story. Literally.” You grin, yanking down the mask from your face to prove it. It pools around your neck. “That’s so funny, c’mon, it’d be amazing.”

It’s been years since he’s heard that. Never in this context.

“No,” he says sternly, “and I’m going to have to bring you in if you’re going to kill people.”

The rats were ignoring everything that was going down like the hardened criminals that they were. They had probably seen worse. He can’t stop paying attention to them.

“I’m not killing them, bro.” You raise your hands in exclamation. “I’m just moving some molecules around, some frequency shit. They’re alive, just ghosts.”

He’s always been one for science. Straight As throughout high school, attended science conventions as a hobby, alive even at 100 through some mad experimentation, definitely seen some weird shit during his lifetime.

But this doesn’t make sense.

“No,” he repeats. “Give me the thing.”

“Fine, I’ll show you.” You roll your eyes. “Since you have absolutely no faith in me.”

He does a quick review of his surroundings.

No one’s around, which is good.

But that just leaves him in front of you, which is bad.

“Don’t you even thin-” he starts, muscles tensing as he shifts into a defensive stance.

You whip out the little pen thing from beside you but before he can react you turn around and duck.

The click of a button releases a bright light, small but intensely stronger than the fluorescents in the station.

He reels back, feet carrying him away from where you’re crouched. His eyes quickly look down at his body.

Nothing’s changed.

He lifts his hand to check, runs it over his face. Still alive. He thinks.

“Behold,” you declare, “Ghost rat.”

He looks to where you’re pointing. The two rats from earlier were still nibbling on their food but something was off about them.

He could see the faint outline of the tiles on the wall behind them, almost like they were... translucent.

You aimed at the rats, not him. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at the fake threat.

He watches as they move. They don’t look hurt or injured.

“Cool, huh?” you say smugly.

He can’t stop staring at them.

“Bring them back.”

“They’re fine, look how abstract it is.”

“Bring back the rats.” He can’t believe this is what his life has come to.

Bucky Barnes, Rodent Protector.

You aren’t fazed by his indifference, instead wonder filled eyes gaze at the animals. “Astral mice, sarge. Embrace the miracle of modern science.”

“You killed them.”

“They’re alive, they’re just ghosts.” You raise a finger to point. “Look, they’re still eating. Biological functions are still taking place.”

Which was true. But still. He doesn’t know what is going on.

“Bring them back to... non-ghost alive.”

“You sure you don’t want one? That one kinda looks like you.” One hardened glare after you realise the answer. “Jeez, alright then.”

You dig through your bag before pulling out a matte black replica of your current invention.

“Sexy colours, right?” You hold them up. “I modelled them after your arm.”

He looks down. Sure enough the gold and black matched his cybernetic limb. It was oddly flattering.

“Say thank you, Y/N, for letting me be your muse-”

“Un-ghost the rats.”

“Ungrateful,” you narrow your eyes at him.

Still, you comply with his demands, ducking down to their level again.

A click of the button, a bright light and the rats are back to normal. Non-transparent normal.

“Okay, give me that.” He takes a step towards you.

“Nuh uh.” You pull your arm back. His mouth twitches at your response; what are you, five?

The black one is stuffed back into your bag but you wave around the gold like a threat.

He sighs, making a pass for it. In a second his arm is twisted and shoved against his back, forcing him to spin so that he’s facing away from you. His eyes widen.

What the fuck?

“Now we’re having a good time,” you whisper into this ear.

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist to rotate his own out of your grip.

“Since when can you fight?” he asks.

“Are we getting to know each other now?” You raise your leg to give him a semi gentle kick in the side, using his momentary distraction in blocking it to give him a knock on the head with your free hand. “This is so romantic, sarge.”

There’s a low rumble in the distance and he knows the train would soon start pulling into the station. It was still a distance away, but his heightened senses warned him that it wouldn’t take much time.

He groans. How much longer would he have to go at this?

He could easily win this fight and he knew it. But something in him itched, pulled him back from doing it.

He blocks another attempt at his head. “Stop that.”

You grin. “You know what’d be fun?”

He knows you’d reply even if he didn’t encourage it. The lights from the train light up the tunnel around the corner.

“This.” You don’t give him a second to recover before you flick your wrist away from him.

The device flies out of your hand and right onto the track. The both of you watch, you in glee, he in horror, as the train runs right over it, unleashing the brightest light he had ever seen. His eyes shut instinctively before it blinds him.

He forces himself to pry open his eyelids, look at the damage caused.

The train, sure enough, is translucent. He can see the posters on the other side of the platform through the carriage, through various people holding onto the poles for support or seated on the seats.

“Ghost train!” you cheer. He’s mortified.

“Fuck no,” he mumbles, yanking the backpack off your shoulder. He rummages through it, looking for the gold version.

“You lookin’ for this?” you ask nonchalantly, holding it up in your hand like it isn’t the solution to stopping a bunch of ghosts from wandering around New York.

“Turn them back.” He gives you a chance.

“Do it yourself, coward.” You grin, holding it above your head. The train is going to stop and he needs everyone to be alive and non-ghost before they leave.

He doesn’t wait this time, instead turning to you. The thing is still held in your grip above your head. He rolls his eyes, doing a quick assessment before grabbing your free hand, tugging you closer and plucking the device out of your hand before you have the opportunity to retract it.

“Great, now figure out which button to press.” You’re dangerously close to him. He can feel your hoodie brush against his tactical jacket. “Also if you wanted to be all pressed up against me, you could have just asked.”

He furrows his eyebrows, letting go of you as you give a loud laugh. He looks down at the device. It has several buttons, littering up and down the side. Each look the same.

The train’s slowing down.

“They’re both the same device; this version is not a magical solution to the other one. If you press the wrong button then both of us are going to be fucked.”

The last carriage is getting closer.

“Say I win this round and I’ll fix it.”

There’s a gleam in your eye. He knew this was exactly what you wanted.

He wishes he was as stubborn as Steve, just run through each button until the right one worked.

“You win this one.” He hands it back. He wasn’t like Steve and judging by the number of items the idiot jumped out of planes without a parachute on a daily basis, Bucky was glad about it. At least Bucky did it sporadically.

“Yay, two each for the both of us, then,” you say, taking it from him and twisting, eyes running down the sides. “Close your eyes, old man, or else your cataract’s gonna get worse.”

Right as the train pulls to a stop, you press down on the button before throwing it and the blinding light that emanates from it. It lands on the top of the train right as the doors open.

The passengers start stepping out. Some of them are looking at their hands and legs in a little disbelief, most just push through the crowd to leave.

He can’t see through them. It’s a good sign.

He turns to look at you but you’re not there. Instead, the weight of the small device weighs down in his pocket.

The sound of a thud on glass draws his attention.

He looks up at the train. The window of the carriage in front of him has a bit of fog on it. You trace a heart in the condensation and blow him a kiss before pulling your mask back on.

The train starts moving, leaving him alone in the platform again with your invention.

He lets out an exhale, wandering outside to grab a sandwich before waiting to catch the next train to go home.

Later in the evening, he catches hold of a bit of tape and the ‘Dickhead’ poster finds a place on Sam’s door.

He doesn’t appreciate it.

So now it’s tucked away in the shelf of Bucky’s bedside table along with a freeze ray, a ghost-inator, and some discount Pym Particles.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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popopretty · 4 years ago

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Storm Bringer Spoilers (6)

One of my favorite scenes where Port Mafia went all out on Verlaine in CODE;4. I like this part because it introduced a lot of Port Mafia’s skill users that have never appeared in both the manga and the other novels. It was so fun to read.

Dazai made some interesting statements and theories here too. I like the dialogue at the end, where he kinda slipped and let out some of his real emotions.

PS: I can’t believe I actually typed out 5000 words! I was drafting this on my phone so I didn’t notice the actual amount of words. I know it’s not gonna be perfect and I am gonna make mistakes and I will want to punch myself so much but gosh, I am so proud of myself now!

...

The train driver put one hand on the handle, his eyes staring at the darkness in front of him.

Twenty-seven years of service. He is a veteran. He has held this handle through rains and winds, through the Great War where the bombs poured down like rain, messing up the landform.

Even for him, today’s job is unusual.

The train company he works for was bought out overnight. Together with the trains and the service schedules. Then he was ordered to operate a temporary ride. Yet there is only one passenger on this train. Even when he protested to his boss, what he got was only “stop questioning and just drive.” And then one more thing, “If you run away, it will be even worse.”

The driver took another look at the scenery in front of him. The trees have sunk into the darkness. All he could see were the silver railroad tracks and the yellow headlight. Those are the only guidelines to tell where the train is heading.

What his boss said might actually be true. Putting other cities aside, this is the unorthodox Yokohama. Anything can happen. Even if there is only one passenger, he has no intention to talk to them. If he does so, he might end up having to catch his cut off head with his chest. _

At that moment, from the eternal darkness of the night that looks no different from the bottom of the ocean, he felt something moving.

His well-trained eyes managed to capture it from the distance. Is that an animal? No. Is it just the trees rustling? No.

That’s a person.

A person is standing on the track.

He pulled the break even before his brain went ”Oh no”.

The compressed air was released, and the train’s speed reducer made a violent metallic noise. But it was too late. The train bumped straight into that human figure.

However, that figure took the train’s hit. A tremendous force was applied on the train. The first car jumped forward. It was like they were being pulled, the rear cars also jumped off, derailed, rolling over into the woods. Like a rampaging huge iron snake, the train hollowed out a big area around it, knocked down a bunch of trees, before finally stopping.

The person who witnessed the whole event, Verlaine, smiled with satisfaction. He took the train head-on but suffered no scratches. He started walking. Towards the car with Mori Ougai. Jumping over the cars half-buried underground, getting through the cars whose electric system were starting to catch fire, he reached his target.

Mori Ougai was lying face-down. The train was fully flipped sideway, the walls become the floors and the ceilings became the walls. He was facing away from Verlaine, not moving an inch. From beneath his body, a pool of blood is slowly spreading.

He did investigate the target’s skill in advanced. It’s not the kind of secret that a formal spy like him cannot find out. Mori Ougai does not possess a skill that can withstand such an impact.

“Too easy.”

Verlaine muttered and approached his target. He is not as stupid to walk away without confirming if his target is really dead or not. He is going to check and if by some rare chances the target is still alive, he will finish them off for real.

Verlaine flipped Mori Ougai’s body over. Then his eyes opened wide.

That was not Mori Ougai.

That was a man he had never seen. He was wearing a wig and clothes to disguise as Mori Ougai. But Verlaine’s assassination preparation was thorough. He had set up a hidden surveillance device in the last station. And the images taken from there were definitely Mori Ougai’s.

When he grabbed the man trying to confirm his identity, suddenly a hand was put on his chest.

“Too easy.”

A powerful repulsive force coming from a skill blew Verlaine away. He flew through the glass windows and landed on the humus soil outside. He rolled further while scattering the soil, and hit his back against a tree before finally stopping.

”... Not bad.”

Verlaine push his hand on the tree to stand up.

He brushed off the dirt from his clothes and started thinking. The face he saw at that moment moment, the repulsive force coming from his palm. That was probably one of Port Mafia’s constituent members, the one who with the repulsion skill, Hirotsu Ryurou.

A double!

They knew about the hidden device and let Mori Ougai’s image captured on purpose, then quickly switched the double in. In other words, Verlaine’s assassination plan was seen through. Ever since he came to this country, he only knew one person who has the ability to outsmart him with such finesse.

“Hello, Verlaine-san.” A small was sitting on the edge of a car, on top of the overturned train.

“Dazai-kun”, Verlaine said as he picked up the hat that had fallen to his feet. “I have heard the saying that age doesn’t matter when it comes to talent, but you are really frightening.”

“You are just bad.” Dazai said with a dry voice as though he was lecturing Verlaine. “This time you acted on your personal feelings too much. When you are like that, I can read all your moves. Why are you so obsessed with Chuuya?”

“Is it that strange for someone to be concerned about his brother?”, Verlaine said as he dusted the mud off his clothes.

“It is, a lot.” Dazai affirmed. “First of all, what made you believe so firmly that Chuuya was your brother?”

“What?” Verlaine narrowed his eyes.

“You saw that too, right? Chuuya’s original experimental body. Turned into bones and died.” Dazai spoke while swinging his legs that were dangling out of the train top. “That looks almost the same as Chuuya in terms of appearance. In terms of abilities, too. And a lot of other things in common. What if that thing was actually a skill-containing artificial life form, and the Chuuya who is living outside, whose only redeeming trait is being energetic, was the original one? Can someone like you who is not an expert, someone who has only browsed through limited materials from the past, see through that?”

“That is impossible.” Verlaine shook his head. “I’m not as stupid as to mistake the target in my infiltration mission. What I stole away from the lab nine years ago was undoubtedly the same as me, an artificial life-form.”

“If I look it up I will understand right away.” Dazai said casually. “Fortunately this time, the guys from the labs has demonstrated the method to rewrite the code formula inside Chuuya. If I capture some of those researchers using Mafia’s power, they will be more than happy to tell me how to read those codes. And then I will know which one Chuuya is actually. We have all the time in the world.”

“You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don’t you?”

“I am”, Dazai laughed with a sigh. “There is no way a man-made string of code could create such a personality that I detest that much.”

Verlaine signed then started walking towards Dazai. His footsteps were heavy, as if he had to clean up a lot of tedious work.

“I can gently whole-heartedly explain to you the reason that was a misunderstanding... but now I have another job for you.“ he said, walking up the gentle slope that he fell from. “That is to spit out where Mori himself, not his double, is. It’s a painstaking job. Literally”

“So you have no intention to back off?”

“Of course not.”

Dazai didn’t look at anything, he gazed aimlessly into the air, “Is that so?”. Then he spoke with a disappointed face, “Then it is your loss.” A sniper bullet went straight for Verlaine’s head. Verlaine bent his upper body, and felt down the slope of humus. He rolled three times then looked up, looking at Dazai with stern eyes.

“Sniper?”

Before he could finish his sentence, yet another bullet struck Verlaine’s forehead. He almost fell to his side, pushing his hands against the ground to support.

“Your ability only works on things that you can touch.” Dazai said, swinging his legs as he looked down on his opponent. “That’s why the bullets that hit you will hit you. They just stop immediately. However, if we aim a larger sniper bullet, which has several times the velocity of a normal bullet, then it will still give you a blow the moment you use your gravity to stop it. Also...”

Dazai casually raised his hand.

From the top of the hill, through the gaps of the trees, from inside the humus, on top of big trees, more than fifty sniper bullets were fired at Verlaine at the same time. All the bullets pierced him, Verlaine growled.

Verlaine tried to hide under the shades of the trees while protecting himself by gravity. But even in the places he ran to, he got attacked from behind. Even if he tried to lower his posture to hide, the attack would come from above the trees. He had nowhere to run.

“To be able to set up this many snipers... in such a short time...”

A bullet pierced through Verlaine’s clothes and slid through his skin. It’s not a wound that could make him bleed, but there are so many of them. Ten shots in one second, then twenty, and more kept coming. It’s like the air that surrounds his whole body has become his enemies and attacked him.

Verlaine had no choice but to protect his head with his two arms and rolled himself up.

“You picked the wrong opponent, Verlaine-san.” Dazai chuckled. “I am an expert when it comes to dealing with gravity. Because no matter if I wake or sleep, the only thing I think about is how to annoy Chuuya.”

“Don’t underestimate me!”

While enduring the rain of bullets that were striking him, Verlaine grabbed a tree close by and pulled it out of the ground.

“You think you can kill me with this kind of rock throwing play? Verlaine swung the tree, trying to throw it. He planned to use the tree as a spear to crush the snipers who were hiding faraway in the dark.

However, that hand of his stopped halfway.

It was because the tree had been cut into pieces.

“Hoho, if I look closely, you look terribly like my subordinate.”

There was a flowing female voice as graceful as the sound of harp.

The burning bright red hair, eyes of the same color. Her crimson red

ombré looked like the color of ripen maple leaves. The most eye-catching thing was what floated beside her, a masked demon in a kimono. The demon was tall with long hair. She carried a sword of almost the same height as a child, as if it had no weights at all. The golden kimono melt into the air from her knees downwards, showing that it was not a real body.

“However, it was Mr. Brother who selfishly tried to poach our boy from us. I guess I can let that go after cutting off one of your limbs or two. So you’d better get lost quickly.”

Ozaki Kouyou. The Port Mafia’s young sword-woman. A powerful skill user who took Chuuya as her subordinate, accompanied by the golden demon, an embodiment of her skill, a beautiful beast.

Kouyou rolled a bright peony-colored umbrella on her shoulder. And then she twisted its handle and pulled it out. A silver blade appeared. A hidden sword.

“Mafia’s skill user?” Verlaine smiled like a beast. “But what can a mere ability user with two swords can do against gravity?”

Verlaine lowered his posture, ready to jump at Kouyou.

“Who said that I was alone?”

Verlaine’s body sank in.

Startled, Verlaine looked at his feet. The ground undulated like a snake, swallowing his two legs and even crawling up.

Verlaine was caught by surprise. He got rid of the gravity of his own body and jumped up. He landed on a trunk of a tree nearby. But even the trunk that definitely looked tough started to liquify the moment his shoes touched. It reached for Verlaine, trying to eat him up.

“This is...” Verlaine leaped again. However, the spot he planned to land on already turned into a mud with a will of its own, opening its mouth to wait for him.

“Hahaha. Keep running, young man. Youngsters like you exist to entertain this old man. Please die quickly and offer your head to me.”

Coming from the darkness of the woods was a big, strong man who looked just like a big tree. A military uniform that has faded in places. His bristle looked like a sewing needle. He wore a judo belt around his waist, and wooden clogs on his feet The arms folding in front of his chest were as thick as a tree that has lived for hundred years.

Port Mafia’s elite, a veteran who survived the Great War. His nickname in the organization is “Colonel.”

He swung his arms like an ancient tree and squeezed his fist tightly in front of his eyes. At the same time, the ground started to muffle. The liquified soil, trees, even the overturned train, all rushed to attack Verlaine in the air. An skill user who can manipulate objects and turn them into liquids?

Verlaine kicked the first wave of liquified soil that came towards him and retreated backward. But the soil was also coming from that direction. Even if he tried to change his orbit to run, liquified soil was still coming from beneath his feet and above his head. If they touched him they would still be blown away by the gravity, but the liquid will start to cover up from the top again, giving no time for Verlaine to prepare a counter attack.

On top of that, as if to stitch up the gaps, there were sniper shots coming from all directions.

“Tch...”

Verlaine densified a small amount of dust in the air, and stepped on that to leap his body up. He wanted to take some distance. Abilities that manipulate things like Colonel’s, in most of the cases won’t work for things that are out of their sights. That’s why he planned to hide deep in the wood then throw a huge rock enforced by gravity to finish them off.

An odd thing entered Verlaine’s field of vision at that moment.

A watch.

A watch was floating in the air.

From the outside, it looked just like a normal pocket watch. A dial with numbers, a long hand and a short hand, a crown, and the internal mechanism peeking out from the edge of the dial.

The strange thing about it was that it had a size of a man’s upper body. Also, it kept turning around as if it was staring at Verlaine.

Verlaine, who possesses a wide range of knowledge on skill users, sensed the danger from that watch almost immediately.

He tore off one button from the sleeve of his suit and amplified its gravity until it weighted dozens of kilograms. Then he threw it towards the watch.

That button comet holding enough power to knock down a building, however, couldn't interfere with the watch. It smoothly slipped through the watch, knocked off trees and disappeared into darkness.

“You can’t destroy that thing.”

A gloomy voice came from the ground.

Verlaine diverted his gaze and without his notice, a boy was already sitting on the ground. He was hugging his knees with his two arms, looking miserable. He looked up at Verlaine.

“It’s no use. That thing looks at everyone. Including me, and you. We have no choices but to die. One day it will find us. One day it will catch up with us. It’s　“time”. It’s the enemy of us all.”

He looked and sounded miserably. His clothes were so long it became awkward. The hems were all frayed. The boy who was so skinny you could see his bones through his clothes glared at Verlaine and waved his finger as if he was telling him “Come here, come here.”

The two hands of the watch clicked and pointed to the number 12 at the same time. Immediately afterwards, the watch in the air was sucked into Verlaine.

That was not a metaphor, it was literally sucked into him, into his chest.

Being wary of the disappeared watch, Verlaine stiffened his body. But nothing happened. There is nothing within his sig...

The liquified soil twisted around his legs.

Startled, Verlaine shook the liquid off by gravity. Then he looked around. He had got pretty far away for sure. It was so strange that the liquified soil could chase him this close. Right after that was a shock. A sniper bullet hit his head. Verlaine span halfway in the air. He landed on the ground, scraping the humus to stop.

It was weird. The speed of the sniper attack went up. The speed of the bullet by the moment it reached him was so fast that even if he used gravity to bounce it back, he was also blown away by a corresponding force.

“Did they replace their guns or bullets with more powerful ones? No, this is...”

The ground liquified again. Verlaine jumped out to dodge, before being eaten by the soil. But the speed of the liquid tentacles that extended and followed him also increased. Verlaine took a quick look around. From the treetops that were hit by the sniper attack just now, leaves were falling down. They were not fluttering, they were dropping as if they were stabbing the ground. This means, the attack speed didn’t get faster...

“Was my time... slowed down?”

“Everyone will die before me.” the gloomy boy stared at Verlaine with dubious eyes filled with hatred. “Brothers, parents, everyone will be killed by time. But I will get away with it. With this special power of mine”

A skill user who meddles with time. For the first time, Verlaine got a cold sweat on his forehead.

Time manipulation is not just a powerful skill, it is a extraordinary skill out of this world. As far as Verlaine knew, there were only a few cases reported in the world. The fist on the list of those time manipulation skill users who are separated from the world’s reasons, was a former skilled mechanic, H.G. Wells. After creating the skilled weapons called the “Shell”, she disappeared and became the world’s worst terrorist.

The time manipulation type of skills tinker the basic principles of this world, and rewrite them at will. Because if you look from the universe’s perspective, time and space are equivalent. The time manipulation skill users hold the same power that can alter the world, just like Verlaine’s gravity. Verlaine whose movements have become dulled because of the time delay　was flooded with Mafia’s attacks. All the bullets, the swords and liquified soil.

Even if he tried to retreat, because his time has been delayed, he could only move sluggishly as if he was under water.

Verlaine’s expressions became stiff.

Dazai gracefully looked at the wooded area echoing with gun shots and roaring sounds. He looked down at the battlefield that had turned into a hell, with such a carefree expression that cooled down in the night breeze._

“This is the rule of this world.” Dazai spoke like he was singing. “It applied in all times and ages, all creatures, the absolute truth. In this world, a group is stronger than an individual. A skill user is stronger than a group. And then...”

Feeling the pleasant cold breeze coming from the blasts of the battle on his cheeks, Dazai smiled.

“... a group of skill users are stronger than one skill user.”

Verlaine pushed his body’s gravity to the max. With a powerful driving force that surpassed the effect of the time manipulation skill, he quickly escaped from the battlefield. Verlaine’s bones cracked at the sudden speed acceleration that exceeded his limit.

Even when the danger struck in front of him, Verlaine’s judgement did not falter. It was not yet a hopeless situation. He would retreat as much as he could, taking as much distance he could from the waves of skill attacks. Then he would fix his posture, manipulate the gravity of the bullets that managed to reach him, repel them and knock down the skill users, one by one. That would be his win then.

Only three skill users. Not too much of a difference in strength.

Suddenly, blood came out from his skin.

Verlaine looked at his cuffs. The skin under his clothes was peeled off, exposing the flesh inside. But only a little blood came out. He felt almost no pains.

He landed down on the ground as a reflex. Upon touching the ground, the skin inside his shoes also came off. He could tell by the slippery feel from it. But again, there was no pain.

That was a new skill attack. But the true nature of it immediately became clear.

His breath was white.

His skin is frozen, there was frost on his eyelashes.

“Let us be held. By the frozen love. Let us be held. By the frozen flower that breaks in its full bloom.” the new skill user appeared, singing with a thin and screechy voice.

Long, white hair, white fur around her shoulders, white breath. And a crimson red rose on her chest. Every time the woman takes one breath, the trees around her froze, cracked up and snapped due to the water inside it freezing and expanding.

Verlaine understood it right away.

A skill user who can cool off the temperate. The reason why his skin was peeled off earlier was because the skin was exposed to the low temperature and got stuck to the inside of his clothes and shoes. His body really became that cold in just an instant. He was frozen from flesh to born, but not much time has even passed.

A super dangerous skill user. Freezing attack does not involve physical clashes. That’s why he can’t dodge them using gravity. It is his natural enemy

Another sniper bullet hit Verlaine’s shoulder. He groaned in pain.

The bullet was cold. It froze by the time it touched his skin, forming a frost pillar. The low temperature invaded into him through the wound, eating up his flesh.

The enemies attacks were too synchronized. Time delay, freezing, sniping. Apparently, it was a tactic that had been put together to block all of Verlaine’s strengths and exploit his weaknesses. There is still something strange about this. He has been retreating at a considerable speed since a while ago, yet the gunshots never stopped. His escape route was totally seen through. Normally if he ran at this speed in the woods in the middle of the night, he would immediately disappear from the telescopic sight. Losing the targets, sniping attack would definitely become impossible. So why?

“Hihihihi, what a sweet face. Hey, just between us, but if you cry and slobber and apologize here, maybe I will let you go this time?”

The voice was close. Really close.

Verlaine turned to that direction. No one was there... No.

In the middle of no where, a hole the size of a coin was opened. It was like the space was burnt and hollowed out, and on the other side of the hole was another different space. From that side, a black eye was staring at this side through the hole.

“Yes, it’s me. You are being watched. From now on, you can be assured even if you lock your toilet door hihihihi”

The hole was so small to see the entire thing. But that eye alone is enough. The eye was filled with malice. It had been watching Verlaine, chasing him and reporting about his positions all the time.

Verlaine fired a rotary kick by reflex at the hole.

“Oops.”

Right before being hit, the hole closed up and disappeared.

“I’m here.”

The voice came from behind. When he turned around, the same hole had been opened in a different place, looking straight at Verlaine.

That was the type of skill that connects space and monitor the targets. The skill user was probably sitting in another safe place, and monitoring the whole battle using their space connection skill. He couldn’t attack the actual skill user. If he tried to touch it, it would close immediately so he wouldn’t be able to destroy it using gravity.

Just how many skill users they have thrown in this battle?

“Hihihi, I have a present for you. From Port Mafia with love.”

From the coin-sized hole, flower petals flew out. Countless petals surrounded Verlaine then started to shine white. Yet another new skill.

The moment Verlaine tried to take a quick avoidance action, all the flower petals exploded at once.

From the train where he sat, Dazai could see the light from that explosion very clearly. The white light split open the woods at night, the afterglow burnt into the night sky.

Dazai looked at that scene, he was grinning.

“How is it going, Dazai-dono?”

From inside the train, a middle-aged man appear. He was wearing the boss’ outfit. He was the one who played the boss’ double, Hirotsu.

“As you can see, it is going well. So well that it is boring.”

In the direction he was pointing, the explosion sound was echoing, trees were falling, sniper flashes and low frequency noises were ringing non-stop.

Hirotsu took off the wig, put on the monocle he always has on, and narrowed his eyes.

“As one would expect.”

“Of course, I had to earn a lot of time to prepare all this. “ said Dazai, who was crossing his legs elegantly like a royal. “Chuuya and I had a terrible hard time fighting Randou-san. So this time I came prepared. Just to kill Mr. Assasin King from Europe, I had to gather a total of 422 people from the combat troops and 28 skill users. That is the full strength that Mafia can put in now.” At the scene where they were looking, the cold air and gun flashes kept shining. Verlaine tried to escape by threading his way in between the trees but a yellow-white ray burnt off the whole night sky, blocking that escape route. That was yet another skill user.

The plan was extremely simple. Setting up a trap and waiting. Chuuya and Adam drafted the same tactic before to defeat the Assasin King. The plan that Dazai carried out was basically the same. Identify the next target, set up traps around that target, and ambush Verlaine from behind when he appears.

The only difference between this and Chuuya’s plan is the scale of those traps. What have been set up as traps this time, was the entire Mafia’s overwhelming combat unit. The result was a one-sided destruction.

“We can keep this battle going for the whole night.” Dazai said as if he was whispering to Verlaine from far away. “Verlaine-san, you are a flawless assassin. With that vivid skill of yours, you have never once been traced down and surrounded like that, haven’t you? That’s why you have no experiences when being cornered by such a skill users organization. Even Randou-san was afraid of that dangerous flawlessness of yours.”

Dazai took out the leather notebook.

Rimbaud’s memoir. The journal Rimbaud had kept about the birth as well as full accounts of skill user Verlaine.

“I mourn for you, Verlaine-san.” Dazai put his hand on the notebook and said as if he was praying. “I mourn not for your death, but for your birth. No one mourns for you for being born. The only one who does is you yourself. That is the reason you fights... I think you are amazing. You despise the fact that you were born, you despise your own power, you despise the world. And by doing that, you came to accept your meaningless life. How wonderful that is. I don’t have that kind of courage. That’s why I wanted to talk with you more. But this is already goodbye.”

Dazai stood up, turning his back on the battlefield in front of him. He walked away.

“Dazai-dono?”

“Report to me when it is done.”

Dazai’s voice powerlessly fell to his feet. He walked away.

The next moment. A black way swelled over the battlefield.

...

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #storm bringer #spoilers #bsd spoilers #dazai osamu #paul verlain #port mafia

367 notes · View notes

funtimebunnyblog · 4 years ago

Note

I love how you wrote the s/o who struggles to stand up for herself 🥺 it was really good! I thought of something to build off of that if that’s alright with you. What if someone tried striking the pillar men’s very sweet and unconfrontational s/o? Maybe s/o did something as minor as accidentally bumping into someone. When they sheepishly try to apologize that person gets angry and tries to punch/slap s/o. Oh how I love protective pillar men 🥰

Thank you so much, Anon! 🥰😍❤ You're too sweet! It always makes my day to hear when someone likes my work! 😇😇😇

Oh boy, big protective Pillarmen? The absolute best kind of Pillarmen??? You got it, honey! 😘

Pillarmen (separate) protecting their non-confrontational s/o from being struck...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Admittedly, Kars wasn't very "confrontational" himself.

• In his own way, of course.

• He thought fighting with someone for no good reason (or any reason at all really) was as meaningless as it was laughable.

• If someone ever approached him and tried to initiate a violent confrontation by hurling insults at him or even going so far as to hit him; he would simply roll his eyes and walk away.

• He had much better things to do than stoop to some foolish Mortals level.

• You both were best described as "two sides of the same spectrum" seeing as how you had the tendency to go out of your way to avoid conflict with anyone.

☆

"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" You cried, stepping away from the large and scowling man who now bared an expression that was something borderline feral. His glare sent a knife straight through your heart, puncturing your lungs and leaving you gasping for air as anxiety washed over you.

You had been walking down the street, your shift had ended and you were heading to meet up with Kars at your usual meeting spot just around the corner. You had talked about going to go get something to eat or at least being Home to have tonight and you were focused on just getting there. The sooner you reached your Husband, the sooner you could go Home and put your feet up after a long work day.

Those plans suddenly got thrown out the window when a man rounded the corner the same time you had.

When you collided with him, it caused him to drop the iced-coffee he had been clutching in his hand; the majority of it even spilled on you, staining your workshirt and pants, and yet you were the only one apologizing here.

"You stupid BITCH!" The stranger snapped, advancing on you as he jabbed his finger angrily at the now empty plastic cup lying in the sad brown puddle pooling on the sidewalk. "I just got that! It cost me 5-fucking-dollars!"

You really were sorry! You really didn't mean to make him drop his coffee! Panic flooded your body and burned in you like a fire, the flames of it only fueled more by his loud voice, making your hands quiver as you instinctively reached for your wallet.

"Here! I'll pay for it!" You said quickly, trying to something, anything to placate the angry man before things got even more intense. "I'll-- I'll even pay for a new one!"

He, however, was all but pacified.

Your offer was cut short by the surly stranger full on grabbing you by the collar of your coffee stained shirt; you let out a strangled yelp as he hauled you far too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath hitting your face and your stomach dropped, sinking like a stone going down to the depths of the Ocean upon seeing the unquenchable inferno shimmering in his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that and a lot more, bitch." He snarled, drawing his hand way back.

Your eyes instinctively snapped shut as his free hand swung towards you, hard and fast your, your hands flying up on pure impulse alone in an attempt to shield you from the blow that was to come...

But it never came.

After too long of a moment, much longer than the hit should've taken, your eyes opened to find the mans large hand still poised in the air.

It was now gripped by a much larger one.

Kars' brow was knit together, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood as he scowled down at the offending man who still had a hand on you; his Wife. He had been waiting for you just around the corner. He had heard everything that had happened and had definitely seen more than enough.

His grip was so tight on the mans arm you could see circulation being cut off. Any tighter (that being; using his only half of his maximum strength) and he would without a doubt shatter the bone of the mans arm completely.

He was only holding back on doing so for your sake.

You were frightened enough as it was and Kars wanted to spare you any further horror by holding back on destroying this disgusting excuse of a lifeform... just for today.

"Let. Her. Go." His voice was low and fridged, the words slithering through the teeth that were clenched like a vice in his mouth.

There wasn't even a trace of anger to be found in the mans face anymore; like a slate wiped clean. His face had gone stark white and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared at the God before him; not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of a car coming 80km/hr toward it.

The car that would kill it in one singular, instantaneous hit.

The hand released from your collar, leaving behind a stretched imprint of his clenched fingers on the fabric. The very second you were released, the Pillarman hauled the stranger roughly into the air by his arm, his feet dangling over a foot above the pavement.

Kars' lips peeled back into a snarl, fangs glimmering like knives of ivory in the light. If looks could kill the man (who was now whimpering not unlike a kicked puppy) would be getting slaughtered.

"If you know what's good for you, Human. You will get out of my sight." Came the command, this time the man could now feel the hot breath of the seething Pillarman on his own face. "Now."

A shaky nod was the best the man could manage.

Without another word, Kars dropped him and the stranger practically hit the ground running. Taking off down the street as fast as his shaking legs could take him, stumbling as he nearly fell several times; the only thing preventing him from doing so was pure adrenaline.

You barely had a chance to blink, let alone process all that just happened, when Kars was on you.

The Pillarman pulled you into his embrace, uncaring that you were practically drenched in coffee and still quivering like a beached jellyfish. His eyes roamed your body, checking for any injuries he somehow missed; he let out a breath you hadn't realized he had been holding before his lips found the crown of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Beloved, my beloved... he is gone now. Shh. Shh." He murmured into your hair. It was only then, when he swiped his calloused thumbs over your cheeks, you realized you were crying.

"Let's go home, dear one." He said after a long moment of simply holding you in his arms and shushing you, allowing you time to get your nerves somewhat under control. "I'll make dinner tonight and we'll see if we can do anything about that stain..."

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of conflict of all kinds.

• Really, fighting with someone with reason or not was just something funny to him because he knew his moves (by tongue and by combat) could not be matched.

• If someone tried to initiate a fight with him, he'd just chuckle and cock an eyebrow.

• If he was bored (which was most likely), he'd have the greatest time simply toying with them; laughing and grinning as they attempted to hurt him.

• Sometimes he'd even enjoy giving them a good scare by doing something with his powers.

• If not however, he'd simply scoff and walk right past them.

• Other than that, he actually tried to stay out of any sort of conflict when you were around; he didn't want you to be involved or hurt, of course.

☆

It wasn't often you went out to a club but every so often you and Esidisi would take the time out of your busy life to get dressed up and go out for a few drinks and a dance together as a treat.

You left the ladies room with a smile, lipstick reapplied and your appearance straightened up a little. You looked around as you made your way through the scene, searching the crowded floor for your Husband to catch another dance or two with him before retiring Home for the night.

You stepped back in surprise when a man cut you off halfway across the room, a drink in hand and a tipsy smile pulling across his face.

"Hey there," he drawled, trying to be casual. "You're cute. You wanna dance?"

You smiled sadly; you had to admit, the gesture was kind of funny and sweet. Had you need single you probably would've agreed.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." Really, you had no interest in dancing with a stranger in a place like this when all of your dances were already happily taken by your one and only.

You were about to offer to buy him another drink or even just settle with just chatting with him for a while (a friend was always nice to find in these places) but the man didn't exactly appreciate your answer, despite the fact it had been polite and straightforward.

"Uh, excuse me?" He all but spat, his face souring into a frown. "Why not?"

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, taken aback at his sudden turn of character.

"Oh-- Uh... well, I'm here with--"

"Oh, that's bullshit!" He cried, cutting you off. "You just don't wanna dance with me!"

You grimaced, holding your hands up in a placating gesture as you backed away from him, trying to keep some distance between you two as he tried to close it by advancing.

The man continued to rant and rave, growling about how there was absolutely no reason for you to refuse him a dance and that he was a perfectly nice guy and a good dancer, not pacified in the slightest.

You were becoming aware of just how very drunk this man was and he was only getting increasingly angry with you by the second. Each time you sheepishly tried to explain yourself you were cut off and it only seemed to get him more and more riled up.

You REALLY didn't want to deal with this on a fun night out. Hell, you didn't like confrontations like this in general.

"Listen, I've gotta go--" You were cut off again, gasping as the drunk stranger grabbed you by the arm just as you started to shuffle away to try and merge in the crowd again to disappear from his sight and pretend this interaction never happened; his grip was rough and unrelenting.

The room was starting to spin; the lights, the music, the chatter was suddenly far too much, drowning you in a static of fear and confusion. The man was snarling something out at you but you couldn't hear it over all the kerfuffle.

Your vision hyperfocused on the bottle the man had in hand; lifting high over his head, swinging down in slow motion.

The bottle never hit its mark as it was suddenly plucked from the strangers grasp.

In a fraction of a second, the man was now grabbed by his free hand and spun around. You opened your eyes to find him in the grip of Esidisi, your one and only dance partner and Husband.

"Looking for a dance partner, are we?" He questioned the now gawking drunk.

Esidisi had been waiting for you where you had left him at the bar. Being as tall as he was he saw you leaving the restroom and decided to meet you halfway across the dance floor; however, he stopped short as he saw your little confrontation happening. After giving you a good once over to ensure you weren't hurt, thankfully you were just a little shaken, he inclined his head over to the bar for you to sit and calm down while he handled this situation.

The massive man full on grinned down at the drunk man in his grip, giving him a good spin around before pulling him in close. Just as he pressed him straight against his muscular body in an iron grip; the song shifted, hot and base blasted music blaring through the speakers of the club.

"In that case, you're in luck!" He chirped, chuckling at the strangers owlish expression. "I was just looking for a good dance partner myself and I happened to overhear you talking with my Wife."

The drunk man gulped, through his potent mixture of intoxication and fear he didn't miss the fact that Esidisi's grip tightened just the slightest bit more as he took care to emphasize on the word "Wife". The stranger let out a strangled yelp that went unheard by the rest of the dancing crowd as Esidisi strutted to the music, dragging him along. Any protests on your attackers part went ignored by Esidisi and fully unheard by anyone else over the intense beats ringing through the club.

Your Husband winked at you over his shoulder, bringing you some small sense of relief as you felt your fear start to slowly drop down from it's sky-high level and you made yourself comfortable on a stool to watch him and the drunk stranger.

If the man had wanted to dance so bad, bad enough to threaten you and try to inflict harm, Esidisi fully intended on giving him the dance he craved.

He was gonna dance with him until he dropped...

Wamuu:

• As any Warrior should be, Wamuu was indeed confrontational.

• However, his confrontation was only to an extent, per say.

• Like his Masters, he generally did his best to try and avoid conflict with a Mortal.

• If someone simply walked up to him and struck him he would simply stare down at them with a raised eyebrow, honestly amused.

• The hit would probably tickle the living giant rather than inflict pain on him.

• On the other hand, if that Mortal happened to cross a line verbally by deeply insulting him or plucking a nerve somehow, he was fully willing to duel them to the death.

• He was always willing to fight for you; regardless of the situation.

• He was basically your knight in shining armor for that reason.

☆

Working a 12 hour shift was always exhausting to you. Sometimes you couldn't tell what was worse; having a busy day full of orders or having a slow day where you saw almost nobody at all and were bored out of your own mind.

Today had been pretty steady, having boughts of people between lonely hours and thankfully, you were just 10 minutes until closing now. Your eyes glanced up to the clock on the wall, silently pleading for it to go just a little faster so you could close up fully for the night. Wamuu would be here soon to walk Home with you, he usually stopped at the Gym to get a work out in and kill some time before coming bye. Your walks Home with your loving Husband were the best part of your day, sharing stories and talking as you strolled arm in arm down the street.

You hadn't seen another customer in the past 2 hours so any cleaning or chores that needed to be done before the night was over was already done. You briefly considered starting to count up the till now so you could just leave as soon as you closed but that plan was quickly shunt aside when the door to the shop flung open, the bell overhead jangling loudly, and in stepped a customer. You resisted the urge to sigh, there was almost always someone who came in at the last minute and wanted a sandwich.

However, you put on your best smile as the man who came in approached the counter.

The mans face was already in a knot, he had huffy air of "I'm in a H U R R Y" about him and that alone was enough to make sweat prickle on the back of your neck. These kinds of customers could be the absolute worst, even more so at closing, and you prayed he would order something easy so you could close up tonight without tears in your eyes from being yelled at again by someone.

"Good evening," you chimed, smoothing out your apron as you set your hands on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"One meatball sub, white cheese, on Italian." He told you rather shortly, drumming his fingers on his arm.

A lump swole in your throat as you turned your gaze to the very empty meatball tray sitting across the counter.

Oh boy, here we go...

You sucked in a deep breath, your smile unfaltering. "Oh, um--... I'm sorry but we're all out of meatball. Can I get--"

"Then make more." He said curtly, his finger drumming only increasing as he full on glared at you. He also made sure to visibly roll his eyes as if you had said something completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." You told him, trying not to let your voice go down to the squeak it wanted to. "We're closing in 5 minutes and cooking more up--"

"Ugh, I don't care!" He growled. "I don't have all night, just make it!"

You were starting to shiver as he got louder and louder, "Sir, we close at 7. I can't, it's against policy, I can only make more tomorrow morni--"

You jumped as the man suddenly lunged and a yelp managed to escape your lips when his hand gripped around the strap of your apron, pulling you roughly over the counter.

"Listen to me, you dumb CUNT," He snarled, his grip tightening hard enough you could hear threads snapping in your apron. "Make the damn sandwich so I can fucking go Home! I don't fucking care about your policy! I want my meatball sub!"

You were breathing hard, your throat squeezing shut as he growled lowly into your face. Never once had a customer gotten this violent with you, not even on a shift where you were with someone else. Everything was becoming consumed in static, your heartbeat in your ears as you floundered to find something, ANYTHING, to say to get him to let go.

"I-- I--..." it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what this man wanted to hear and it only infuriated him further.

He was screaming at you now, screaming so loud you couldn't understand him, only making you start to cry as you stood helplessly in his unrelenting grasp.

Like lightning, the mans fist curled and swung your way.

He would've made a clear slug across your jaw if a much bigger fist hadn't clenched around it, stopping it mid-air.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, stumbling and catching yourself on the counter before you could fall to the tiled floor. You looked up in shock to find none other than Wamuu gripping your attacker with one huge fist by the front of his shirt, making the man dangle in the air.

"You seem to misunderstand what my beloved here was trying to explain to you." The Warrior growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he glowered down at the man who's expression had now turned to one of terror. "Normally, I would overlook ill-mannered Humans such as yourself but you have made a very grave mistake tonight by, not only disrespecting, but touching my dear Bride."

The man opened his mouth to say something, probably to apologize or to tell the massive man he would leave and never come back but the words didn't so much as reach his tongue.

Wamuu flung him across the room, as effortlessly as one would swat away a buzzing fly, and the man crash landed into the tables in the corner; knocking them over like a bowling ball would pins.

"You have 3 seconds to get out before I throw you farther!" Wamuu snapped, taking one step towards the man laying in the entanglement of fallen chairs and tables.

The man clamored to his feet before Wamuu could come another step closer, somehow limping and running towards the door and out of the building.

As instantaneous as that fight, Wamuu was over the counter and kneeling by you, cupping your face in his hands. You were still crying, curled in on yourself where the man had grabbed you and shaking like a leaf in a bitter Fall wind.

"My dear sweet little one, shhh... shh.. it is alright." Your Husband crooned, pulling you into an embrace so gentle it seemed almost impossible coming from him after such a display.

You only cried harder, burying your face in his neck as all your nerves finally let loose. Wamuu held you in his arms for a good long while, he made sure to turn the closed sign however before anymore unwanted customers could come in for tonight.

He fully planned on speaking to your manager about this and your safety here from now on...

Santana:

• Santana wasn't confrontational unless given no other option.

• Chances were, if someone tried to pick a fight with him (whether by verbal abuse or physical violence) he would simply walk away, not interested in the slightest.

• It was almost as if they were invisible to him.

• If they tried to strike, he could just make their body phase right through his like nothing or his body would just go to rubber right around their limb.

• He was never really in the mood to fight with a primitive unless they TRULY annoyed him.

• More often when that happened they would be come dinner.

• But if someone tried to start a confrontation with you; he'd be the one to end it.

☆

"Oh yes!" You breathed a sigh of relief when you grabbed a hold of the roast sitting all by itself on the refrigerated shelf, a small triumphant smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

You honestly feared they'd be fresh out, you were having some Family over this Holiday weekend and needed this for the dinner you planned on preparing for when they came. This time of year it was hard to get a hold of good stuff at the supermarket as shoppers tended to all share similar traditions and that meant they also shared similar meal ideals.

You couldn't be more lucky you got your hands on the last one, lest you'd have to drive to the other supermarket across town to continue your search and most likely be disappointed there too.

You had sent Santana off with the list and cart to grab the other stuff you needed while you headed for this important item first. Now all you had to do was track down your Husband and drop this into your little cart so you could be one step closer to going Home to prep.

With the roast in arm, you started off.

"Hey!"

Someone shouted from down the isle but you barely even paid attention to it, chances were someone was arguing with a worker or another customer (as things like that also had the tendency to happen this time of year); another reason you wanted nothing more than to get your groceries and get out of the store.

Watching two customers duke it out over food and menial things was probably as uncomfortable as being part of the fight... at least in your eyes anyways.

"Hey stop!"

Once again the sound of the shouting fell on deaf ears as you kept walking, about to round a corner into another isle on your sojourn for your mate. Santana was most likely somewhere around the frozen foods section, he had asked if he could pick out some icecream for the weekend earlier in the car.

You stopped short when somebody grabbed you harshly by your arm, yanking you hard enough to spin you around. You actually let out a yelp in surprise, your eyes snapping down to the well manicured nails that were digging into the flesh of your arm. Your gaze instinctively followed the hand all the way up the arm connected to it, until you found yourself meeting the intense glare of the woman grabbing you.

"I told you to stop!" She snarled, your owlish expression not hindering any of her obvious anger from spewing out. "You took the last roast!"

She pointed accusingly at the hunk of wrapped meat cradled in your other arm with a long manicured nail.

You blinked, a brief sweat was starting to form underneath your clothing as your skin burned hot, crawling under the woman's hand; you wanted her off of you but she wouldn't let go.

"I-- Well, yes there was only one left--" you began, trying your best to explain yourself (let alone get a grip on your spiking nerves) only to be cut off.

"Well, I need it!" The woman tried to reach for it but you pulled away, only to be pulled back by her; nails pinching your skin like needles. "Give it to me right now! I need it more than you do!"

You tried to yank your arm from her grasp but she gripped you tight enough to make you cry out. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn't as they just got jumbled in your squeezing throat; you had saw it first, you needed it too for a special dinner, there were plenty of other places she could go to find one.

You really didn't want to quarrel with this crazy stranger over something as stupid as a piece of raw food, in a supermarket of all places.

"Let go!" You plead, not even caring about the roast or your weekend dinner plans anymore. You just wanted her to leave you alone!

One of her hands raised, fingers curling as she swung it down with the intention of clawing you right across your face... but her nails didn't find skin this time.

The woman gasped as her own arm was grabbed, the shock of it made her release you from her grip, and in one good tug she was pulled straight away from you.

Her gaze followed the huge, ivory skinned hand that dwarfed her arm, following it until her eyes met two sapphires burning holes into her from underneath thick crimson eyebrows.

Santana huffed through his nose, "Do not touch my mate, primitive." He commanded quietly, an order not to be ignored, however the surly woman wasn't done yet.

As quickly as it was lost, the scowl returned to her face and it was now directed onto Santana the youngest of the Pillarmen; not only was he your Husband, he was the wrong person to pick a fight with.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She fumed, getting right in his face rather than making the more wise decision and backing down. "Let go of me!"

Santana stared at her, not fazed in the slightest as she began to full on rant on about how it was wrong for him to grab her and that she would report him for assault (as if she hadn't just been violently assaulting someone herself) and she of course went the extra mile to add that her Husband was someone very important and he would be arrested.

It only made her angry all the more as the Pillarman just stood there, quiet, the very definition of disinterest etched into the features of his face. He honestly didn't care about her ramblings as there was no petty threat she could possibly make that would scare him away.

Her free hand lifted again and it swung with the intention of slapping him right across his face.

As soon as skin was supposed to meet skin, skin passed right through skin.

Now, the woman's angry demeanor crumbled for good, staring in horror as her hand simply went right through his face. Her hand was implanted right in his cheek, literally melded inside of his head, only the tips of her long nails were visible from the back of Santana's neck. She was stuck there, trying to pull herself out of him, the terror gripping her heart was the only thing keeping her from screaming to high heaven.

Santana never once said or did anything as she did, watching as he pulled and pulled to no avail.

Her whimpers slowly built up to full on cries of fear, Santana fully intended on making her feel the same thing you had just gone through with her. It was only until she was begging for him to release her hand from his body did he finally relent.

The minute her hand was freed from his face she stumbled back, almost falling and clutching her wrist as she fled from the isle and the supermarket itself; no longer caring about the product she tried to rip from you.

Santana merely exhaled, watching her go with a notable twinkle in one of his eyes before turning his attention to you. You were still pretty shaken up, thankfully you hadn't dropped the roast but you were nursing the arm where she had grabbed you and the imprints of her nails in your skin she had left behind. Wordlessly, he walked up and pressed a soft kiss to the cheek that woman had almost scratched as he took the roast from you, putting it in the cart right next to the tub of ice cream.

"They have been dealt with," he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through your whole body as he pressed you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "I will never allow anyone to harm you, my heart."

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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kanerallels · 3 years ago

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Ok ok eeee!!! I'm so excited! Okay, how about a Kanera princess and the frog au?! I was thinking the scene where they turn into frogs (or should it be lothcats?) Aka when she has to kiss him and then the line "how did I get down here, and how did you get all the way up there?" Until they have to fly away on ballons at the party? (Maybe Chopper can be the dog and Hera's just like "My dog just talked?!") Lol I'm so excited cause I know how good you are at AUs, congrats on 111!!😍

Heck yes my favorite Disney movie let's GO!!!!

Pairing: Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus

Word Count: TBD, I'm on mobile

Tags/Warnings: G (for green. It's the green, it's the green, it's the green that Kanan needs...)

In the dressing room of her best friend’s bedroom, Hera changed out of her stained brown dress and slipped into the shimmering dark blue dress Omega had provided her with. In the other room, she could hear Omega chattering excitedly about the charming Jedi who’d shown up-- Kanan Jarrus, the apprentice of the deeply respected Depa Billaba. He’d swept Omega off her feet almost immediately, although from what Hera had heard, the young man had quite the reputation for such things.

Hera couldn’t focus on her friend’s words, though. In her mind, she could only replay the moment when she’d heard that she’d been outbid for the ship she was trying to buy. With it, she’d be free, to explore the galaxy by herself, not dependent on anyone.

But tonight, she’d gotten the news from the salesman himself-- they’d handed it off to someone with more money. She could still hear the man’s condescending words echoing in her ears-- a little woman of your… well, species, would have had her hands full trying to run a ship on her own. You’re best where you’re at.

Best where I’m at? Hera thought, frustration boiling through her veins. Working two jobs, sacrificing any semblance of fun or enjoyment just so she could save enough, scrimping and saving and making so many hard choices, and just when she thought she’d had a chance? It was all gone.

She stepped into the main bedroom as Omega was saying, “You know, I was starting to think that wishing on stars was just for babies, and crazy people.” She paused as Hera came into view, and a smile crossed her face. “Well, aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in May?” Taking a silver-and-blue headpiece from the chest of drawers in front of her, she brought it over and placed it on Hera’s head, saying, “Seems like only yesterday we were younger, dreaming our fairy tale dreams-- and tonight, they’re both coming true!”

Hera couldn’t bring herself to correct her friend, and Omega was so excited she didn’t even notice Hera’s silent demeanor. It was only seconds later that she swept back out into the party, leaving Hera alone in her room.

Reaching into the pocket of her stained dress, she pulled out the flimsi advertisement for a VCX-100 ship she’d found when she was little. Her mother had always encouraged her in this dream-- her father was a little more skeptical. Still, the memory of Eleni Syndulla holding her close as she excitedly talked about the ship she’d own one day was enough to make tears prickle in Hera’s eyes.

Moving out onto the balcony, she stared out at the Rylothian landscape, determined not to cry. But she’d been so close. So kriffing close, and she’d lost it all again. It was hard to imagine attempting this again, after how hard she’d work the first time-- and now she had to start over?

Releasing a shaky sigh, Hera blinked away her tears and lifted her gaze up to the sky. Her eyes landed on one of the stars-- the brightest one, that her mother had always told her and Omega stories about when they were little. A star you could make a wish upon, and it would always come true.

It was just a story for children. But in her current emotional state, Hera was about ready to believe anything.

Her gaze darted around the balcony. Finding it empty, Hera muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” All the same, she lifted her gaze to the star and internally made her wish. Please. Please.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, then opened them, knowing nothing had changed. Wishes only came true in stories. Hard work was the only thing that would ever get her anywhere.

As it turned out, something actually had changed. Hera’s gaze drifted to the left, and her eyes went wide at the sight of a frog perched there. She wasn’t exactly a fan of frogs, if she was being honest, although she had nothing personal against them.

Remembering one of the other stories her mother had told her and Omega, a small smile tugged at Hera’s lips. “So what now?” she said, directing the comment at the frog. “I suppose you want a kiss?”

“I’m not about to say no to it,” the frog said with a smirk.

Hera wasn’t exactly proud of how she reacted next. But coming face to face with a frog that sounded like a grown man who thought he was more charming than he actually was? That was too much for her. Letting out the closest sound to a scream she’d made in years, she stumbled backwards and crashed into a shelf full of Omega’s things.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” the frog said, hastily hopping towards her. “I didn’t mean to startle you--”

He cut himself off with a yelp as he leapt to avoid a book from Omega’s shelf. And then a holodisk. The tooka doll Hera threw actually hit him, although it didn’t make much of a difference. Leaning his forearms on it, he remarked, “You’ve got a strong arm, Princess.”

Hera responded by grabbing the vibroblade Omega’s brothers had given her, and the frog’s eyes widened. “Please don’t--”

He dove out of the way just in time as the knife embedded itself point first in the wooden floor, and jumped up on top of the chest of drawers. “Okay, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi--”

Hera slammed a cup she’d found over him, neatly trapping him. “--Knight,” he finished. “What the kriff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hera snapped. “How would you like me to react to a talking frog??” And then his words caught up with her. “Wait. Jedi Knight? If you’re the Jedi Knight, who’s that down there charming Omega?” she demanded, releasing the cup without thinking.

Kanan immediately shoved the cup off of him with a grunt, letting it roll free. “How would I know?” he pointed out. “All I know is one minute, I’m a dashing Jedi Knight, handsome, excellent dancer, I might add--” Hera rolled her eyes extensively-- “and then I’m stuck with these.” He thrust one webbed foot in her direction, wobbling towards her dangerously, and Hera grabbed a book nearby in defense.

“Wait!” Kanan all but shouted, his eyes going wide. “Wait, wait-- I know that story! The one with the frog who used to be a prince-- what’s it called…?”

“‘The Frog Prince’?” Hera deadpanned.

“Exactly!” Kanan waved for her to hand over the book, almost toppling over under the weight. He managed to get it settled against the mirror, and flipped it open. “I used to hear this story all the time in the Creche. This-- this is it! This is the solution!” Turning towards Hera, he said, “You-- must kiss me.”

“Excuse me??”

Moving to his feet, Kanan directed her a charming grin that probably worked on most women when they were not incredibly irritated by him, and he was also not a frog. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. All women do.”

“That’s revolting,” Hera told him flatly.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that soon,” Kanan said, his grin widening as he leaned forward-- and then the sac under expanded out, and Hera jerked back in alarm. “That’s new,” he assured her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Hera said, which was only mostly a lie, “I wish I could help you. But I don’t kiss frogs, and I certainly won’t kiss you.”

“Wha-- you literally asked me back on the balcony!” Kanan protested, the alarm on his face growing.

“It was sarcasm!” Hera snapped. “And I certainly didn’t expect you to answer. There’s absolutely no way I’m kissing you.”

“Come on-- look, not only am I incredibly good-looking, but I’m with the Jedi Order,” Kanan pointed out. “I can make sure you’re rewarded handsomely for this. Surely there’s gotta be something you want, some wish we could grant?”

Despite herself, Hera’s eyes flicked to the flimsi poster for the VCX-100 that had gone flying across the room in the kerfuffle. But this was stupid. It was just a ship, she didn’t need it that badly.

Yet even as she thought the words, she knew it wasn’t true. It was more than a ship for her, it was freedom. It was a dream she’d had for as long as she could remember. And if there was a way to attain it…

“Just one kiss?” she asked, wavering.

“Unless you beg for more,” Kanan said, smirking.

That decided it. If it was only to get rid of this pain in the neck, Hera would do it. “Deal,” she said, nodding.

The frog instantly puckered his lips, closing his eyes, and Hera reeled backwards. It was just… gross. The idea of pressing her lips against those of a decidedly slimy looking--

She pushed that thought out of her mind, replaced it with the image of the VCX she’d own after this, and lunged forward to kiss the frog.

The moment her lips met his, greenish light flashed over them, and Hera felt it engulf her. Everything went black.

She didn’t know how long later her eyes slid open, but when they did, she was enveloped with some kind of blue fabric. Shoving it off of her, she looked up and saw a wide-eyed Kanan staring down at her. Except he was still a frog.

“.......kriff,” he whispered.

Uncomprehending, Hera blinked hard. “You look remarkably like a frog. Still. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome? But why are you up there? And what am I doing down here, with all this--”

She glanced down at the pool of fabric, seeing the green of her skin against it. But there was something different about it. Something off with the texture and the feeling of it.

Also, she was missing a finger.

Hera jerked to the side and caught sight of herself in a mirror. The face of a frog stared back, and she let out an undignified shriek. “What--” With a leap that was entirely instinct, she flew to the top of the dresser and crashed into Kanan, bowling him over. “What did you do to me?” she demanded, staggering to her feet.

“Easy-- don’t panic,” Kanan attempted to calm her. “It’s not so bad.”

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FROG! WHAT PART OF THAT ISN’T BAD? I’M COVERED IN SLIME!”

Catching hold of her hand, Kanan said soothingly, “No, no-- it’s not slime. You’re secreting mucus.”

That was the last straw for Hera. She narrowed her eyes in a death glare at Kanan, and his eyes went wide just as she tackled him across the room. They crashed into a cushioned stool, bouncing up, slamming against a shelf, then down again and landing on a precariously balanced sniper rifle of Omega’s. Before Hera could act on the many threats she had boiling in her head, a book toppled off the shelf and landed on one end of the rifle, catapulting both her and Kanan out of the room, over the balcony and into the party below.

They plummeted towards the band below, landing on the drums. The drummer, a big male Togruta, instantly went after them with his drumsticks as they both dove away from him and attempted to make a break for it.

Hera heard the other band members start a faster song to match the renewed tempo as she and Kanan went flying through the air and landed on the nearest person. Unfortunately, it happened to be Omega. And it was less landing then falling down the back of her dress.

She started hopping around frantically with yelps of shock. As they were jolted around, Kanan remarked, “You know, for a costume ball, you’d think they’d be a little more welcoming!”

“This is not the time for jokes,” Hera snarled.

As Omega toppled over, the two of them managed to escape out of her voluminous hoop skirt, just in time to hear Hunter, Omega’s father figure/brother, shout, “CHOPPER! GET THE FROGS!”

Karabast. Hera caught sight of Chopper-- the tame vornskr that Hera had befriended-- jerk his head up, then bolt towards them. Next to her, Kanan grabbed her hand. “Run!”

As he leapt from the skirt to the nearby buffet table, flying past the shocked Kanan-lookalike, Hera snapped, “I can’t run, I’m a frog, thanks to you!”

“Then hop!” They landed on the buffet table, Hera almost slipping off the edge. Kanan hauled her up quickly and the two of them started hopping frantically down the table as Chopper came flying after them, scrabbling at the tablecloth. “Down!” Kanan shouted. “Down, you kriffing monster dog!”

Chopper did not listen, partially because he was not a dog, and partially because he was Chopper. Kanan and Hera kept going-- straight towards a pair of guests. One of them brandished a fake sword that looked a little too sharp, and swung at them viciously. At the exact same time, the man next to him, wearing a boga hat, ducked, and the sword severed the top of the hat. The hat dropped on top of Kanan and Hera, effectively covering their vision.

The next few minutes were a haze of chaos-- shouting and yelling and a lot of running. Finally, the boga hat came off of them, and both Kanan and Hera went flying forward, tangling in the strings of a bundle of balloons.

Hera frantically tried to disentangle herself as she spotted Chopper still charging towards them. “Wait! Chopper!” she shouted.

Kanan had other ideas. Grabbing the string of balloons, he jerked them free. “Going up!”

As the balloons zipped up into the air, Chopper lunged for them, and Hera shouted, “Chopper, it’s me, Hera!”

“Hera?” the vornskr gasped.

Before Hera could react to that, Chopper plummeted back to the ground, and they continued upwards.

“Chopper just talked,” Hera managed as Kanan grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up so she could grab onto some of the balloons. “The vornskr talked.”

His voice irritated, Kanan said, “You know, if you’re going to let every little thing bother you, this is going to be an even longer night!”

As they flew away from the party, Hera shot Kanan an unseen glare. The sooner she got away from this pain in the neck, the better. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to go as well as she hoped, though.

#swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #kanera #star wars #c1 10p #the princess and the frog au #the princess and the frog #swr au #111 followers celebration #it was dope. the end

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slightlymore · 4 years ago

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doyoung + back 2 u (am 1:27) + angst (and/or fluff) if you’re still doing the challenge ❤️

doyoung; angst + fluff ending

w: explicit talk about sex and a few sexual innuendos for plot purposes, swearing

1.7K

_____

When he would leave, he'd take a piece of you with him, leaving you colder and more lonely every time.

Holding you tight, fingers brushing your skin and his breath caressing your ear as he whispered about how much he adores you, it seemed impossible for him to turn so distant.

This time, you would think, this time you'd talk to him, make him listen and understand. You had to be on the same page. But every time he'd come around and lay his eyes on you, the thoughts and intentions you harbored for weeks were thrown out of the window as quick as your clothes.

Hungry and needy, he would show how much he'd miss you and you bathed in that feeling. Quick and intense like a lighting you would both come undone, holding each other for a while, listening to his sweet murmured words. Then you'd giggle as suddenly he'd flip you over and want more and more, this time slowly, just like he'd been imagining the whole week you were apart.

"I have 15 minutes left," he brushed his lips on your temple. Head resting on his chest, you watched the way your hand pressed on it would rise and fall following his breathing.

A little whine came out of you and you pressed your face into his body, making him chuckle.

"It's always like this," you lamented.

"I know," he brushed your spine slowly.

"I don't want you to go."

"You know that I can't stay longer."

The silence started to make your heart beat faster and you let it give you the courage to lift your face and look at Doyoung's dark eyes.

"Do you have somebody else?"

His eyebrows furrowed and it looked like a fiery storm. Scary and intimidating but fuck, you loved storms so much.

"No. Why would I have somebody else?"

You sighed and lifted your weight on your knees, the bed sheets slipping down to your waist. Doyoung placed his palm on your thigh but his eyes were still on yours, demanding.

"Am I the somebody else, maybe?" you asked with a timid voice.

You were terrified to find out and nights after nights you wondered if it was a good idea to ask. Crawling into the unknown, alone in a gigantic field of darkness, you, the only illuminated thing and him, when he approached. But then he'd step back into the darkness and you had no idea what surrounded you at that time or what surrounded him. You'd be alone waiting for his eyes as if locked up in a tall tower.

"I have a mistress," his voice was deep and rough from being so late at night. You jolted. "And that's my job."

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment.

"You know I'm busy with work and you agreed to everything. What's going on now?"

"I didn't actually fully agree."

Your tone made Doyoung's hand stop on your thigh. His expression was asking you to explain.

"I never said that I like this. Us hiding, you not calling or texting me back for days. I accepted it but now…"

Doyoung sat up and passed one hand through his hair. "You want us to stop?"

You let out a dry and incredulous laugh.

"To stop? Can you stop? If I said I want us to not see each other anymore, would you be able to do it?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Your shoulders dropped. "So this is just sex for you? I was right?"

Doyoung sighed again and put his feet on the ground, turning his back to you. You stared at his shoulders grateful for him not seeing the tears pooling in your eyes.

"This is not just about sex and you know that." He retrieved his clothes and started to wear them.

"So are we dating?"

"Why do you need a label so badly?" he threw his shirt on the bed and turned around to face you. His eyes softened in a second upon seeing you wet cheeks and you quickly dried them up with the back of your hand.

"I don't want a label," you replied quietly. "I just need security. I want to be safe. Every time you go away I feel--used."

The pain was evident on Doyoung's face and his fingers twitched.

"Why would you feel like that?"

"I have needs that are not met, Doyoung. We've never had to talk about this because it was spontaneous and I loved it. But now, I want to talk."

"I don't want to repeat mistakes from the past."

"You're making new mistakes now."

"I really have to go now. I'll call you."

"You never do."

"Don't be like this. It's not like I don't want to and you know it. It's unfair."

"You know that it's not about being busy. You're unavailable emotio-"

"Talk to you later."

_____

He didn't call nor did he text.

Staring into the nothingness you jolted when a young man approached you with a drink.

"Good evening," he smiled kindly.

You smiled back and greeted him but you also gave a side eye to the glass of champagne in his hand.

"Oh," he realized, "I legit just took it from the waiter. I swear I didn't-- wait, we'll take a new one now."

You opened your mouth to say that it wasn't necessary and that you trusted him but he was quick to grab another glass from a passing waiter's tray.

"I'm so sorry," he handed you the glass. "I came off quite awkward. This is my first elegant party, I barely know what I was looking at when I saw the buffet."

You chuckled and thanked him. "Are you new in the company?"

"Oh no actually. It's just that our company has never done high-end gatherings before and I think most of us are awkward now," he added and looked around trying to find his colleagues in the crowd of people from at least five different companies.

"Oh, I am Renjun by the way. Nice to meet you," he shifted the glass from the right hand to the left to be able to shake your hand.

"Nice to meet you too, I am Y/N."

"Oh! And this," he looked behind your shoulder, "it's my best friend Doyoung."

You turned around and locked eyes with said man. He looked as shocked as you were as he approached both of you.

"Hey, this is Y/N," Renjun introduced you and he extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you Y/N."

"Nice to meet you too Doyoung."

_____

"Your own best friend doesn't know about me?"

"Keep your voice down."

You scoffed and turned around, taking a few steps away from Doyoung and inhaling the cold air of the terrace.

"It's not like I talk with my friends about who I fuck with."

You suddenly faced him. "Who you fuck with?"

Doyoung closed his eyes for a second and sighed.

"Do you understand that this," you gestured towards you and him, "doesn't make any sense?" you asked.

"You know I have to keep this a secret. Why are you making a scene now? Is it wrong that we have this type of relationship?"

"Is it wrong that I want more?"

"I know I'm letting you down and maybe we should have talked about it in the beginning, but I can't give you more than this."

_____

Looking at your back as you left, Doyoung wondered what the hell was going on with him.

He would stare at his phone day and night, reading your texts and not replying to them, thinking about your voice but not calling you, missing you like crazy but not telling you.

"I can't think clearly when I'm with you. My mind is clouded and I keep wondering why you're still with me," he'd type late at night then delete the text.

There were moments with you when Doyoung felt so emotional that he would have wanted to burst into tears. There were moments when he was so close to confess how much he loves you. And you were right. He'd get so terrified that he'd put his guard up and fuck you like he didn't have a single feeling.

"Ah, fuck, every day I feel stupid for not asking the number of that girl from the party," Renjun sighed.

Doyoung sipped from his mug, the heat misting his glasses.

"You did well."

The other raised one eyebrow. "What?"

Doyoung sighed and put one hand on his shoulder. "I'm dating her. Don't even think about it."

Renjun's eyes widened as Doyoung walked away. "Hello? I met her first. I can't believe you snatched a girl from me. Come on!" he followed him.

"She was mine all along."

"She told me she was single!"

"Perhaps she felt like that before but not anymore."

"Wow I hate you."

"You wouldn't have stood a chance with her anyway."

"I'm going to beat you up."

"You can try."

_____

When you saw Doyoung's name on your phone's display, you had to sit down.

"I don't want to have sex with you," you spoke into it with a trembling voice.

"That's a lie but I'm not calling for that."

You waited.

"Are you free tonight? I want to take you out on a date."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You really decided to be cocky in this situation? What are you trying to do?"

"Have dinner."

You rolled your eyes. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I-" he breathed in, "-really like you."

"Well, it's too late now, Doyoung."

"Please."

You've never heard that tone before and you hated yourself for being so weak.

"I'm not going back to you."

"That's a lie."

You sighed and had to start walking around in your room to release the steam.

"Just let me try again. Just once. I miss you.”

"You just miss fucking me."

"I miss fucking you. Yes. And I also miss your whimpers and little pleas. And I miss your touch and your lips on my body. And I miss your voice when you talk about topics I've never heard of. I miss your smile and your laugh. Yes."

"You make me so mad…" you whispered.

"You can be mad at me. I can take that."

“This is not a second chance. I just want free dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll try hard. I promise.”

“I want your friend to know about me.”

“He does.”

You bit your lower lip.

“I want a three course meal.”

Doyoung smiled. “I’ll give you dessert too.”

“And I want to walk on the beach while holding hands.”

“Deal.”

You pouted and opened your closet. “I’ll be ready in 20 minutes.”

His chuckle warmed your chest so much that you smiled too.

#doyoung #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct #nct angst #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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girlpornparadise · 4 years ago

Text

Milk and Anger

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo/f!Reader (Narcos)

Word Count: ~1300

Warning: No smut (whut!?). Fear.

Gif @pascalplease

It was just a quick walk to the store you told yourself. You only need milk. Get in. Get out.

It had been stifling being under 24/7 guard, like a grounded child or a chaperoned teen. So when the shift changed, you thought you'd just nip out for a quick breath of air and a pint of milk for breakfast tomorrow.

Your walk had been uneventful, you were an anonymous face in the crowd. You looked like anyone else going about their day. Why wouldn't you? You paid for the pint and the cashier flashed you a friendly smile. You'd been in before as it was only a few blocks away. No big deal, you had reassured yourself. No big deal.

It had been a mistake. A BIG mistake.

You had tried to slip in the back of your house quietly with your purchase, but who were you kidding. He had trained these men himself. They weren't stupid. They knew you weren't stupid aside from what you'd just tried to pull. Of course they ratted you out. They were selected specifically for their loyalty.

You hear him put his keys down on the small table by the front door. You can tell his mood by the jingle. If he tosses them, he's in an exasperated mood, if he places them down gently he's calm, if you don't hear them, he's in stealth mode and wants to sneak attack a hug. But today it was loud, a forceful slam. It almost never happens, but. He. Is. Angry.

The discomfort starts creeping up from the pit of your stomach into your throat.

As he makes his way into the house you hear him slam down his wallet and gun and with each hit your regret climbs another rung of the ladder from your stomach to your brain.

He doesn't sit to take off his shoes. Instead he finds you in the kitchen, like a heat seeking missile.

"I hear you went out for a little adventure today." It's level and quiet but pointed and very deliberately stated.

You imagine this is how he starts an interrogation at work. Level, cold, calculating.

"I understand we needed milk," His voice is slightly louder. "And that it clearly couldn't wait."

"Well…" you start, but immediately realize your mistake. He holds up a hand to silence you and it is very effective in doing so. His eyes are burrowing into yours now.

"You couldn't possibly wait for the shift change so someone could walk with you to the store. You needed to walk to the store then. Right then." His breathing is heavier.

You put down the dish you were drying slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"You thought you could just sneak out. You thought you were being clever waiting for the shift change. You thought your little walk in the sunshine was nothing of note." The edge in his voice is sharp and cutting.

"Well, I hope your little jaunt to the shop was worth it. Worth the phone call I'd receive at work notifying me of the shooting 2 blocks from my home. Worth me rushing to the scene, wondering what poor soul had lost their life this time. It couldn't be you. It couldn't be my wife whom I'd left carefully protected at home. No, it had to be some random casualty."

He's backed you against the kitchen sink and he's towering over you now as you cower under his presence.

"But no, I hope the milk was worth it. Worth me looking down to see it spilt on the sidewalk, mixed with your blood!"

His eyes are frantic, his neck is tense and straining, his hands are fists, and his voice is thunder.

"Or worse! You could have been taken. Snatched and subjected to unspeakable acts. Tortured. Taken apart piece by piece to punish me. And, and…"

And there it is. The fear in your eyes.

The fear he had elicited from so many men. So many terrible, terrified men, and let's be honest, boys. Tied to a post, beneath his punishing fists, at the wrong end of a gun. It was all the same fear.

And here it was in you.

He had promised himself everyday, every damn day of his goddamn life that he would leave it at work, that he could leave it at work. That he could come home to his peaceful sanctuary, the heart of which was you. You were his heart.

He blanches. His hands uncharacteristically shaking. With rage. With rage and fear.

You exhale shakily and the words "I'm sorry Horacio." Quake from your mouth. Your animal brain is on high alert and your flight response is screaming. Without meaning to, a plea escapes your lips, barely a whisper. "Please don't hurt me."

His expression turns from that of anger to that of horror. His eyebrows knit and his forehead creases. His mouth drops open slightly and his fists unclench.

You are still trembling when suddenly he drops to his knees.

Tears are streaming down your face now and your chest heaves with sobs, but no sound comes out.

He kneels before you, a beggar, a sinner, a man who is desperate for your forgiveness.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers.

The ghosts of tears are wavering in the pools of his eyes as he looks up at you. Despite his large frame he looks small and afraid.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight to him, head pressed against your trembling stomach.

You'd never seen such fear in him before. He'd never felt it. A man who looked death in the face everyday with a calm collected demeanor. Who stared down the country's most dangerous men and ultimately broke them. He'd never been so scared.

You hesitantly touch him, and smooth your hand over his hair.

"Forgive me mi amor. I beg of you, forgive me." His voice like that of a man on his deathbed.

Your hands are on his broad but hunched shoulders. Your eyes blinking away the tears as you struggle to look into his.

"No mi amor, I need you to forgive me. I was stupid, so stupid and selfish and, and…" your weakness overcomes you and you fall to your knees.

He clasps your hands in his, both of you kneeling, as if in prayer. Staring into each other's eyes, seeking forgiveness in equal measure.

"I love you more than life itself. If I were to lose you, mine would be over." His voice wavering slightly.

"To think I could end your life so carelessly…" you're filled with shame and guilt.

"You hold my heart in your hands. Every day I leave for work, I leave it with you." His expression has softened and his words are earnest.

"I promise to treat it kindly and with more care. It's the most precious thing to me. You're the most precious thing to me."

He scoops you into his arms and holds you tight to him, trying to envelope you in his most protective embrace. You sniffle and shake and he squeezes you tighter to his chest, as if to wring the fear from your bones.

As you begin to still, he releases his grip. His calloused thumb wipes the tears from your cheeks. And he plants a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I love you." He whispers.

"I love you too." You say matching his tone.

You both stand and you lead him up the stairs and to the bedroom. He strips off his polo and his shoes, and you both crawl into bed. You lay there, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. Clinging to each other so that you could never lose one another again.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x you #narcos #maurice compte #fic #anger

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callmeblake · 4 years ago

Photo

Kerrang Issue #1103 (Sources 1, 2)

Photo Credit: Jeremy Harris

Magazine Release Date: 2006

Issue Label: April 15th, 2006

Transcription below the cut (translated by google from Spanish):

You're not in this alone

April 15, 2006

Kerrang April 15th, 2006

Lostprophets & My Chemical Romance

When it comes to million dollar studios / mansions, Los Angeles, where My Chemical Romance is currently doing pre-production for their new - and as yet untitled - album, is very impressive. Built in 1920 for a silent film star, it is covered in such a way as to simulate an Asian palace, with panoramic views of the city, an outdoor swimming pool, acres of gardens, and - according to vocalist Gerard Way - a ghost that opens and closes doors and even takes baths. Gerard crawled out of bed at noon as his old friend, Ian Watkins is coming soon. He and the Lostprophets frontman will meet to discuss their future performances on 'Give It A Name' - a festival that will see them perform to 30,000 people in two days.

When Ian appears the two greet each other genuinely affectionate, talking about many things; from Gerard's art to Bono's sunglasses and, of course, the ghost guest Gerard admits to fear. The two singers are pleasant company, laughing, joking and obviously relaxed, interrupting and finishing each other's sentences as close friends usually do.

When did you meet?

Gerard: It was at the Slims, in San Francisco and Lostprophets was running a show with Head Automatica. I didn't know them, so I got on his bus and he was the coolest singer I've ever met.

Haven't you met singers before, back then?

Gerard:I had met a few, but singers are usually weird guys. They often have a 'lead singer vibe' and he didn't have one, he was so kind, respectful and personable.

Ian: We knew his manager because he had toured with bands that we had toured with. Even before the first My Chemical Romance album came out, he was already talking all day about them. He sent me the record when it came out and I used to listen to it all the time, it was fucking awesome. Did they get along immediately? Gerard: Yeah. I think everyone in both bands hit it off right away. They were down to earth guys. We hadn't met anyone as great as them, so it was a huge impression on our band that they had that attitude. Ian:

And after that, we keep crashing at events, anywhere, like in Japan….

Gerard: That is a very funny story! You have to fly everywhere when you play (at the Japanese festival) Summer Sonic; you can't drive because Japan is made of a lot of big islands. This was when he still used to get screwed. It was one of the last times that I was drunk or high, actually… Ian was in front of me on the plane and he was turning around to try to have a conversation with me, but he couldn't.

Ian: I hadn't realized it at first. I was talking about the songs on the album I was thinking about…

Gerard:… And at one point I just thought 'I can't deal with this man'. I felt really bad about that I had already thrown up more than I had ever seen in my damn life while trying to get my pills; we were sharing a bus on the way to the plane. I must have looked like the most broke asshole. I was ashamed all the way.

How often do you get together?

Gerard: I would say once every five months, maybe more often. We always collide.

Ian: Yes, when you go on tours you always bump into someone. The strangest thing was when I was in New York, having a snack ...

Gerard:Oh yeah! And we just meet! We were on our way to a place called 'Toy Tokyo', which is one of our favorite stores. We passed a restaurant and Ian was sitting there hanging out.

Ian: They came by and I was like 'Oh shit!' because it was so unexpected.

Gerard: And then we did a full US tour together and it was fun, but Lostprophets was still on the UK schedule, so they would fall asleep on the bus at odd hours and stay up all night.

Ian: That was before the My Chemical Romance record took off, so it was before they became rock stars! But it was cool because we did our own shows on off days.

Gerard:Yes, it was fun doing our shows together, because there was always the same vibe.

Do you keep in touch when you are not on tour?

Gerard: Yes, Sidekick! (controlled email senders)

Ian: You're never in yours! He used to be online all day, but now he's very cool for it.

Gerard: I think I changed my username, but I didn't tell anyone, I just hoped they would notice! So no one talks to me now!

They grew up in places as remote as New Jersey and Wales, what common areas do they share?

Ian: I think we are both working class.

Gerard:When you come from a working class place, you have to leave soon or you will be stuck there forever. Jersey is definitely that kind of place. It's very different if you live somewhere in Los Angeles…

Ian: You don't need to try here, you can go to clubs and gigs every day in LA. It is very easy to believe that you are someone in LA until you realize that there is a whole world outside. It's like the same as London and New York.

Gerard: Yes, but to come from the places that we come from; Where you have shitty jobs, you realize that you are nobody.

Ian: And if you want to do something, make a difference or at least enjoy life, you really have to work your ass off.

Gerard:What's the most shitty job you had in Wales?

Ian: I worked in Iceland. A frozen food store.

Gerard: Oh wow that's weird because my first shitty job was at a frozen food stand at a supermarket. They're both sober now, but Gerard wasn't when they first met: Did his using drugs and alcohol affect their friendship? Gerard: No Ian: I just didn't realize I had a problem! Gerard: Yes, apart from that plane trip. But even though he had a problem, I think the press made him look worse than he already was. When we did that tour together, I was already clean.

The two are working on new albums. Has either listened to each other's new songs?

Gerard: No. We haven't played anything for anyone.

People are predicting that they will both transcend the rock scene and come back with a more pop album this time. Is there any truth to that?

Gerard: I think that's what they expect us to do! On the other hand, some people may believe that our album will be more aggressive to compensate for that.

Ian: A lot of bands do that and screw themselves up. They succeed and say 'we have to prove that we are real' and confuse being real with being shit.

Gerard:That is completely true. So people might expect a more aggressive record from us, or maybe one that makes a lot less sense. But I wouldn't say it's more pop, although it's prettier.

Did you see a lot of bands growing up?

Gerard: Yes, because our only escape was to go and find the local show. There were two places that I would go, ' The Pipeline ' and ' Studio One '. The latter was completely hardcore, bands like Downset, Madball, Dog eat dog…

Ian: Dog Eat Dog! Dammit!

Gerard:The most taboo thing there was as a teenager was Slayer. The [Anti-obscenity lobby] PMRC was so big in the US that they made it almost impossible to get their records. They thought Slayer was satanic. You couldn't get WASP or Venom records, but Slayer was a sure door to evil! I remember when I got 'South of Heaven'; it made a big impression on me. Have you been in front of any other band performance? Gerard: Not in the mosh zone, but I was on the floor for Slim's once. Most of the time, I watch from the side of the stage. Ian:

Everything is ground at Slim's! That was a great show, because we met there. As I said; We got to know each other before these guys took off, and that's nice because I think meeting them after that would have been kind of weird.

So is it weird to meet bands that are already big?

Ian: Yes, because they don't care. As Gerard was saying, singers sometimes have attitudes and it is strange to meet a successful band that is still humble. I don't think My Chemical Romance would have been like that but bands get very reluctant when meeting people. They think 'you only want to be my friend because you want something.' It was great meeting Gerard before they grew up, because I know our friendship is honest.

Do things change when you get to the same level as other bands?

Ian: If we played in the US now, My Chemical Romance would top the list, whereas last time we were on them, but that's okay.

Gerard: Yes, when you go out with a band that you love, there is respect and it shows on stage. But if you play with a band that you don't respect, then you go out and destroy them.

Ian: And it's not like we release two albums at the same time. We left and their time came.

So what if both albums were out at the same time? Would they be aware of the other's sales position?

Gerard: Well we're both rock bands, but we offer something very different to people, so I don't feel in competition with these guys.

Ian:If they were assholes it would be horrible to see them get so successful, because it sucks to see idiots doing well. The only thing they do is add to your stupidity! But when you like band music it's always great to see that they do well.

Gerard: Yes, you will always be supporting your friends even if they are kicking your ass!

Ian: And if they're kicking your butt, it just makes you work harder- It's not a sour rivalry, it's a great thing -a friendship and respect.

My Favorite My Chemical Romance Song (by Ian Watkins)

I love 'You know what they do to guys like us in prison'. The first time I listened to their second album, that song grabbed me as soon as it started playing. It had some really cool changes; the way it starts off with a piano staccato, and the lyrics are fantastic. It conjured up a lot of images and I liked the fact that the verse is on the piano.

My Favorite Lostprophets Song (by Gerard Way)

It's easily 'Last Train Home'! When we were working on Three Cheers for sweet revenge, that damn video came out every five minutes and no one could help but sing it. We were saying 'Man, this is great!' I think the chorus is really beautiful. They weren't trying to capitalize on some kind of junk-young culture, the song really meant something, especially when they were playing it live. If someone is really honest with a song, it will always become a favorite song, and that one really stood out.

Translation: Liz

#ian watkins #gerard way #kerrang #jeremy harris #paramour mansion #K!1103

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watching-pictures-move · 4 years ago

Text

Put On Your Raincoats #13 | The Pink Ladies (Watkins, 1979)

This review contains mild spoilers.

Roger Watkins first delved into directing pornography with Her Name Was Lisa. It was apparently successful, and is in my humble opinion a very good film, but was perhaps a little too intense for producer Dave Darby, who insisted that Watkins make something a little lighter. The Pink Ladies was the result. For those familiar only with Watkins' most famous film, Last House on Dead End Street, it can be quite a shock to see something this lighthearted. While it doesn't contain any of the better known film's bad vibes and was apparently disliked by Watkins himself, it is not without its qualities. The opening credits show the main characters playing raquetball. They are framed individually, their shared space fractured as if to render their actions abstract, even if the leering gaze of the gym's attendant gives them a vague sense of connection. The hazy cinematography casts over this the feeling of a dream, and what follows does not rest strictly in the realm of reality.

The main characters are a group of friends who vary in the level of cattiness. The cattiest of the bunch is Samantha Fox, who played the lead in Lisa, followed by Robin Byrd, who played one of her abusers in the former movie, then Kandi Barbour, who's taken permanent residence in my head thanks to a certain pool scene in Neon Nights. Least catty is Christine De Shaffer, who is distinguished by her benign stupidity and incompetence at sports, the latter quality immediately making her my favourite character. After the characters finish playing, griping about De Shaffer's performance (she rightfully insists that it's not about winning or losing, solidifying her position in the rankings), they go off to the showers. We get an eyeful, as does the attendant, who starts fantasizing about what can be delicately referred to as a reverse gangbang. "Fanfare for the Common Man" by Emerson, Lake and Palmer plays on the soundtrack, and one could argue that for this man, the fanfare has taken on a more tangible, not unpleasing form. For the non-prurient-minded, it's worth noting that even in the fantasy De Shaffer is terrible at raquetball.

The girls discuss plans for later in the week, which include a trip to the theatre to see Eugene O'Neill's The Iceman Cometh ("Oooh, sounds dirty"). They then split up, and we get to spend some time with Robert Kerman, playing one of their husbands. Kerman is a Yankees fan, which you can tell by him wearing a Yankees cap and shirt with his extremely unflattering yellow short shorts and eating stale pizza as a he listens to the game. Even when Kerman drifts off into fantasy, as he does when spying on an eager young couple in the act, he stays in character, ensuring that he doesn't miss the Yankees game as a result. A Humphrey Bogart poster provides some deadpan reaction shots. Unfortunately, he gets distracted by De Shaffer, who insists on chatting him up and singing "Moon River". (Quite badly, I should add, showing a lack of talent in multiple disciplines. Whatever the opposite of a polymath is, she's it.)

Next we move to Robin Byrd, sitting in bed and wolfing down popcorn next to her husband while watching a movie about a carnival, which inspires a fantasy sequence of her own where she's tag teamed by three guys in Aladdin Sane makeup and glitter while "March of the Gladiators" plays on the soundtrack. (Given that I associate this music most closely with the educational video game Math Circus, the effect is a bit jarring.) It's worth noting that one of these men is played by Ron Jeremy, who spends most of the scene sucking his own dick. Of course, when her husband suggests they get it on, she turns him down as she's not in the mood. I guess Ron Jeremy autofellatio will do that to you.

Kandi Barbour's fantasy is a bit more palatable, inspired by the bodice-ripping historical romance novel she leafs through before bed. Christine De Shaffer, treated as a punchline for much of the movie, doesn't even get her own fantasy. Rather, as she's putting on a ludicrous amount of facial cream (not like that, you preverts), her husband sneaks off to the bathroom to jerk off to a BDSM magazine and then imagines being dominated by his wife, who wears silver face paint like an extraneous member of KISS. Apparently the movie was released in a version without this scene as it was considered a bit too extreme, but honestly, without revealing anything about my viewing habits, I didn't think it was too bad. (It was also apparently Watkins' favourite scene in the movie.) Perhaps I've been desensitized by a week long Phil Prince binge, but without cataloguing the exact acts depicted, there's nothing too wild shown. The husband is played by Alan Adrian, who played Mistress Candice's willing slave in one of the more tolerable scenes in Prince's filmography. Adrian was into this kind of thing in his personal life and even suggested nailing his scrotum to the floor, which Darby thankfully shot down. Sometimes the money man is right. (Adrian is interviewed on the Vinegar Syndrome release of the movie and is unclothed without comment the entire time.) Of course, when his character approaches his wife after with the idea of trying this stuff out, she brushes him off.

The next morning, the husbands all wait for the train and see Vanessa Del Rio sitting on the other side of the tracks. Naturally, they start getting all worked up and start amusing themselves with what they'd get up to with her if they had the opportunity. Kerman's involves Del Rio as a schoolgirl, which is about as convincing as Steve Buscemi's "How do you do, fellow kids?" moment. Even Adrian, who claims that he never indulges in fantasies (he claims "they drain the life fluids", a statement that causes the other three men to immediately shift away from him on the bench), entertains the idea, although (depending on your proclivities) it's disappointingly not that distinct from the others in terms of tone or the acts featured. Del Rio's role is mostly silent, but she makes an impact in other ways (*raises eyebrows*).

We then move to a restaurant where the girls are biding their time, with Fox being especially rude to the waiter. It's then revealed that De Shaffer forgot their tickets to the The Iceman Cometh and is coldly made to walk home, which she does by crying and looking at ducks while sad music plays, finding new ways to put the audience on her side. (I too am a fan of ducks.) The rest of the ladies go to the gym to blow off steam, and Fox, angrily cycling away on an exercise bike, pictures her and the gals getting in an orgy with the other patrons of the gym, all of whom are covered in body paint and wearing goggles and swim caps. The same year that Francis Ford Coppola used "Ride of the Valkyries" to lend operatic dimensions to a helicopter siege, Watkins uses it to cheekier effect in a very different context. Lest you think this is all that's left, the final moments have the real heroine getting her revenge in a manner appropriate to the genre. High five, Ms. De Shaffer! Suck it, Mmes Fox, Byrd and Barbour.

Look, this is all very slight and I can understand why Watkins, given how dark his movies can get, didn't care for the end result, but I had a pretty good time. I think when trying to watch these movies as actual movies, lighter fare can be a bit of a challenge as they can lack the tension inherent in darker material (I imagine Her Name Was Lisa and Corruption might play better for most viewers, despite the disturbing content), but I can appreciate that this is executed with a good deal of style. It features a game cast who sink their teeth into their roles, particularly De Shaffer giving a very funny and endearing performance. (Fox and Del Rio don't quite make the same impact they did in Lisa, but are still effective in their less demanding roles.) Watkins' disregard for music rights results in some striking uses of music (he gets in Iggy Pop's "Sister Midnight" in between the aforementioned needle drops). And even between the sex scenes the movie is well visualized, translating the fantasy theme into atmosphere and finding images to match the humour.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #the pink ladies #roger watkins

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blackmaylovesfries · 5 years ago

Text

“I know I’m not perfect, but, please, love me anyway.” - Taking him in

Asked: No

Words: 1768

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - Lee Seokmin is just a Golden Retriever puppy, he wants to be happy with any owner that could want him. Even if he’s not the only one, it won’t change.

Notices: In italic is your narration of the scene.

Masterpost

Previous / Next

Dokyeom started his new life at the rehab center quite okay. There weren’t any one that wanted to touch him like his old owner, also he was able to make friends that didn’t care about him being super loud. They were even louder sometimes! He was really happy now.

In the center, he learned that he didn’t actually needed to be the good boy his life had teach him, he just needed to be respectful and every other thing would work out someway. But even this happy, Dokyeom, now called DK by his friend Hoshi, didn’t forget that the human Y/n had promised to tell what happened with his mother.

He had planned to ask her when they have a solo moment but it was soon find out that, in the center, a solo moment with Y/n simply didn’t exist! She was always surrounded either by humans, hybrids, or even doctors! He couldn’t even find any gap between her hybrid escorts. Being friend of Hoshi means you can be with them, not that you can be alone with her.

It took more than a month for DK being able to talk with Y/n. The group had even adopted two new members already to hang out while they are in the center. Some days after Seungkwan, a hybrid as expressive as him in his natural, arrived, Dokyeom finally was able to find a time when everyone was busy on the pool with Mingyu and just Y/n was in her office.

“Y/n? Can we talk?” He was hesitant on the door, seeing that Mark and Jackson were there too.

“Sure. Do you mind if we just finish this report first?” She smiled sweetly looking at him and he nodded. “You can sit here while we are working” The small human make a gesture in the direction of a red sofa in the room. Dokyeom sat there and studied everything around him while the humans talked quietly.

---

“So, they really don’t know that they are here?” Jackson still couldn’t believe that you not only kinda knew Seungkwan’s family but also neither Park Choong-Min nor that family made the connection. “You know Jonghyun will ask about it, that guy won’t believe that those guys were just stupid.” You and Mark laughed.

“I know but it’s not that they are dumb, it’s just that my alibi is really good. Also, the family don’t really know about me, I just knew the old man and the little companion.” You shrugged. “Also, I’m more worried about Leo and Ravi’s visit than Jonghyun’s.” You turned to steal a look to the hybrid satted on the sofa.

“Oh, that’s true, they are definitely bring you some hell.” Mark wasn’t nice sometimes. “Anyway, are we done? That pup seems ready to scream if we take any longer.” You three looked at him and he smiled to you. You sighed.

“Yeah, we’re done. You guys can go back to your chores, I’ll be going home right after I finish here probably.” You smiled and hesitated. The guys rolled their eyes, kinda of knowing what was going to happen in the end of the conversation you would have with the dog hybrid. They left and you called Dokyeom to your desk. He sat right in front of you.

---

After the males left, Y/n called Dokyeom to sit in front of her so they could start the talk. The boy couldn’t wait any longer. Not after he listened a little about what she actually do for live and that she is an acquaintance of his old master. Also, he needed to be honest and admit that he was curious to know if she and human Mark were a thing, they seemed oddly close.

“So… How can I help you?” Y/n smiled to him, she was a little nervous, he could tell that much.

“You know why I came here, you promised to tell me about my mother and how you got this” DK took his mother’s collar out the pocket and shown her. She took a deep breath. “I want to know everything, I can take it.” The Golden Retriever hybrid put a brave expression on his face and waited for her to started.

“Well… If you really want to know…”

---

You were in a solo case. There was a civilian couple who had been killing and mistreating hybrids for more than a decade already. As it wasn’t exactly the kind of problem your team deals with, you went alone to help the local police. Not that they could use the proves you collected but at least they could say they had a complaint and go straight to the right places to find their own proves.

That case was your first all alone, you were 15 years old and not even your parents were going with you in this one. All the other boys from the third generation had already have their debut, you were the last one.

It seemed pretty easy, you just had to enter the house, collect info about what was going on there and get out without being noticed. You have done it before with Mark and Jaebum.

Everything was going as expected. You were able to break in the house while the family of four were out to the movies. It was simple to find the traces of some hybrids living there. Two, apparently, one not being an adult yet. You didn’t had to search much to find where the hybrids slept. You enter the room and were soon thrown to the floor.

“What the!?”

“Who are you?” A young voice growled on your ear.

“I’m here to investigate about hybrids being mistreated here.” Even in the dark, you were able to see a tail dancing behind the boy and feel his claws. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t need to be helped by you!”

“Maybe, but what about the other hybrid?” He hesitated “I saw some small blood splashes around the door in front of this.”

“If I let you go, will you really help her?” His whole posture changed. You nodded. “I will release you. I don’t know how to open that door.” You nodded again. The boy took of the arms around you and guided you towards the door with blood splashes. He didn’t let you take a good look at him, so you just know that he was really slim.

Somehow you were faced with the type of lock that Youngjae had just teached you how to pick. Well, lucky you. You found stairs on the other side of the door. Stairs and pure darkness. The boy gave you a little push and waited by the door while you went down the steps. At the end, you were able to turn on the lights of the room and the vision shocked the young you.

There were a hybrid body. A woman was lying on the floor, she didn’t react when the lights went on but you could see that she was breathing. You approached her and really slowly put your hand over hers. She jumped.

“Master?!” She started to hyperventilate.

“No, no, I’m here to help you.” You were in shock “Please, tell me what happened, what can I do?” Most of your missions were light, just picking hybrids up, taking care of them at the center, punching bad humans. So it’s understandable that you were on the verge of crying.

“Your voice is really different…” The hybrid smiled. You just noticed that she was blind. Not naturally, they blinded her. “Oh, I get it. You’re Death, right? You came to finally take me with you, right?” She didn’t let you answer her. “But you can’t yet! I have to find my boy, he’s waiting for me in the shelter, he’s waiting for me!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, breath” You tried to calm her down, your time was running, you needed to be quicker. “I promise that I’ll find your boy, I’ll take care of him, I promise.”

“Really? You promise? Oh how wonderful, you’re such a good Death, you’re going to take care of my boy for me? Don’t make him follow me too soon, okay?” The woman let out a laugh

“But he needs to trust you, so when you find him, give him this and call him as I called: My puppy, he will understand! My boy is a really good boy!” She handed you her collar and you made sure to engrave her words on your memory.

“Now, please, take me away from here, please, take me to my dear husband so we can watch over my boy together again…”

Her voice disappeared. Her hand dropped and the steady but weak movement of her chest stopped. You were in panic and tried to do everything you knew about first aid but nothing worked out.

If there wasn’t a noise upstairs, you would have cried. But looking at your timer, it’s really the time for you to leave. Putting her body in a respectful position and covering her with a blanked, you sprinted to the first floor.

The boy from before were there, looking as if he knew what happened downstairs. he indicated a bag at his feets and you understood that he would flee from that house the moment you’re out there too. You also knew that he wouldn’t come with you, so you both got out and parted ways.

---

Dokyeom was crying. He imagined that his mother wasn’t alive but he still had some hope to be wrong. Also, he didn’t expected this to happen two years after he was gone from the house. He was definitely lost in his sorrow so he didn’t even noticed when Y/n hugged him.

“I’m really sorry, Dokyeom… I wish I could do more at that time, I’m sorry…” The girl repeated and repeated until he was calm enough to respond the hug.

“It’s not your fault… Actually, thank you, Y/n, for not leaving her alone in her last moments. Thank you so much for telling me and for finding me.” His grip on her was strong but she still could look at his face.

“To be fair, I still haven’t completed the promise I did to her.” The hybrid looked to her, confused and emocional. “Dokyeom, I wish you to come live with me and the boys. I wish you’d let me watch over you like I said I’d do.” He couldn’t answer and snuggled closer to her. “Dokyeom?”

“... Seokmin…”

“Ahn?”

“Call me Seokmin.” He smiled to her while crying.

Tag: @hopsiclesposts ; @woohoney ; @warm-smiles-and-blue-skies ; @childfmoonn ; @moonmin-miya

#Seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen hybrid au #seventeen au #seventeen dk #dk #dokyeom #seokmin #dog dk #dog #hybrid dk #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop au

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petri808 · 4 years ago

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A Little Help From Beyond

@krbkmonth2020 on Twitter.

Kiribaku Ghost Prompt. Warning character death, misunderstandings, pining, happy ending I promise.

“Deku you fucking dumb son of a bastard!!!” Bakugou cradles the dying man tight to his chest with his head pressed against his face. His teeth gnashed and gritted, eyes squeezed tight against the truth that his childhood friend was bleeding out in his arms. Tears stream down his cheeks, a visible waterfall breaching his mask. “You’re not supposed to die!” They were Twin stars of the pro world! Rivals till the end who could push each other to achieve only greater and greater heights! “What the fuck am I supposed to do now!!”

“S—Sorry… Kacch—an…” Midoriya squeezes Bakugou’s hand with what little strength he has left. “You shine for us both now…”

The second Midoriya closes his eyes for the last time, a brilliant flash starting from his hand quickly envelops Bakugou’s. A surge of energy rips through the blonde’s body and he instantly knows exactly what just took place. “No! No, fucking no!” He shakes the limp body. “Fuck you! I don’t want this! Damn it!” He collapses on top of his friend, gripping to the torn green costume. “Damn it Deku! I-I don’t deserve this…”

Time dragged on from that moment for Bakugou like a movie that wouldn’t end. Day after day, week after week. Every night his dreams replaying the events that took his friend’s life and the guilt tore through his psyche, leaving him an empty shell. He didn’t even want to go to the funeral because that… that would have made this final, and he didn’t want to accept that Midoriya was gone. But his friends dragged him to it. You need the closure Katsuki. You need to process what happened, so it doesn’t destroy you. News flash, it already was.

So, he pushed everyone away after that. If anyone showed up at his apartment, he would rage at them through the door until they left. Any villain that crossed his path paid dearly regardless of their crime, because it was the only way he could release the building anger and pain. All his life, Midoriya was there and no matter how much the guy could get on his nerves, he’d never imagined a time he wouldn’t be around. And now, when they’d finally found their balance… he’s gone.

After a month, the only person brave enough to keep trying was Kirishima. It was a choice to stay close because he could understand why the man felt broken. If he lost Bakugou he’d probably feel lost too.

“Come on Katsuki, just open the door and let me in.”

“No. I told you I’m fucking fine and I don’t wanna talk to anybody!”

Kirishima rests his head against the door, uncaring if anyone passing through the apartment hallway found it odd. It killed him that this strong, proud man was slipping into a deep depression. He assumed one reason was a survivor’s guilt for living through a fight that cost Midoriya his life. But the other was more personal, and probably the biggest struggle of all to get past.

Throughout UA he’d watched the two men battle, heard the stories of their childhood, could see that despite the rough treatment, Bakugou cared deeply for his old friend, and he wondered if there was an unrequited aspect hidden beneath the surface. Did one or the other possibly…

“You can’t lie to me, man. I know you’re not.”

“I said Fuck off shitty hair!!”

Inside the apartment, Kirishima can hear the music cranked up to tune him out. He sighs and closes his eyes, placing a hand against the smooth wooden surface of the door. “I can love you like Deku,” he whispers as the tears pool behind his eyelids, “if you just let me in too.”

All through high school and into their adult years, their friendship grew. Somehow, he’d wormed his way into the hot heads inner circle while everyone else were called extras. But there was always one other person that meant more to the blonde and that was Midoriya. Even dead he was still rival’s with the man.

He shakes his head. It didn’t matter now. There’s nothing he can do about Midoriya, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let Bakugou lose himself over it. It was devastating, he understood that, Deku was his friend too. But now it was important to take care of the living. Broken hearted and dejected, he walks away, swiping at the few tears that broke free. But he’ll be back tomorrow to try again.

Off to the side, watching this scene unfold, Midoriya floats out of the way as the sullen redhead walks past his conscious spirit. It’s been almost five weeks since he’d died, and it was frustrating being stuck watching the people he knew falling apart over it. Bakugou was the worst, but what he’d just heard Kirishima say blindsided him. To a living human, his words were spoken so quietly that even if they’d been standing next to the man, they wouldn’t have heard anything more than a mumble. But he did, loud and clear. Eijiro Kirishima was in love with Katsuki Bakugou!

“Wait, but does he think I had, or we were!” He’d grown up with Bakugou, but he wasn’t in love with the man!! Wow, he never thought anyone would make such a leap in terms of their friendship! But it was cute to know someone loves and cares for his friend. Midoriya shelves those thoughts away for now and disappears through the door to check on the blonde.

What he finds is a darkened room with the blinds drawn and his old friend sitting on the couch with his head hung low. If he could produce tears, they would fill his eyes. It was a heartrending sight. He moves over and kneels in front of the blonde, reaching out to place his hand on the man’s knee. It goes through as it always does, so he retracts his clenched hand in anger, closes his eyes, and screams. “Argh!! This sucks!!”

All the sadness and frustration rages outward in a surge of energy from his unheard scream. If he’d been alive tenants two doors down would have heard it. When he opens his eyes, Bakugou is staring straight at him with a confused expression. Wait, what?! He waves his hand in front of the man but gets no reaction. Okay, no, he didn’t see him, so did he hear the scream? He tests this theory, screaming at the top of his lungs; still no reaction.

Growing frustrated, Midoriya stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of the couch. He puts his analytical mind to work, but he didn’t understand what just took place. “It was probably just a fluke. Kacchan looked up just to look up. Argh, this sucks!!” He kicks through the coffee table in a fit. “I don’t know anything about being a ghost!!”

“Deku?”

Midoriya whips his head back around to see Bakugou with his hands cradling the sides of his face, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

“Stupid, Deku’s dead dumbass, that couldn’t be his voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m fucking losing my mind!”

“He heard me?!” Midoriya tries to reach out and grab the man’s shoulder, “Kacchan! I’m here!” But it slips through the man’s body. Pissed off, he swipes his hand at the man’s body over and over, desperately trying to make contact. “Fucking damn it! Just let me comfort him!” He screams at the air.

Bakugou flinches and gasps. He looks around, confused. The windows were closed, yet he swore it felt like a burst of wind just hit him. Okay, now he was getting creeped out. First, he thought he’d heard his dead friend and now a ghostly wind? He runs his hand over his face, “maybe its sleep deprivation,” he rationalizes to himself since he hasn’t had a good night sleep in over a month. He stands up and walks away towards his bedroom.

As he watches Bakugou leave the room, Midoriya stares down at his hands, wide-eyed. It was like his quirk! If he could learn to control this energy, that might be the key because each time his friend sensed something, it was when his energy surged. “Woo hoo!!” He pumps his fists in the air. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with this newly found power.

He follows Bakugou to the bedroom and sees the blonde writing in a notebook. When he’s finished, places it on a nightstand then goes to the bathroom. Midoriya funnels as much energy as he can into his hand and miraculously, he’s able to turn the pages. Awesome! He was getting a small handle on this ability.

It was a journal! He never knew the man kept a journal! But the more he read, the deeper his heart sunk. It was filled with regret and anger, of not treating him better when he was alive, not saving him in the end, of not realizing how important he really was. Bakugou felt he didn’t deserve to be given OFA… “Oh, Kacchan,”he looks over at the closed bathroom door. OFA had accepted him once before because he was worthy of it. But the worst part was, the man felt all alone. “But you’re not alone.”

When he hears the turn of the bathroom doorknob, Midoriya backs away so he doesn’t scare Bakugou with the page turning. The blonde skulks over to his bed and just drops onto it like a sack of potatoes, quickly turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over his head. He swore he heard soft sobbing sounds coming from the man. And that’s the last nail that shatters his heart. Bakugou wasn’t a crier.

He’d always looked up to the Bakugou as the strong one, able to deal with anything thrown at him. And while the death of a friend or even a parent is devastating, it frankly surprised Midoriya that it would become so all-consuming for him. ‘I never realized how much I’d really meant to him.’ But now he did, and he needed to make sure the blonde got through this.

Midoriya leaves via the window and heads to Kirishima’s home. He needed to check on the man and wanted to make sure he wouldn’t give up on Bakugou either. But when he arrives, he’s was already asleep. So, he sits on the edge of the bed and practices affecting their corporeal world.

Using the same techniques, he’d used in life to gain control over the power of OFA, Midoriya channels energy into his hand and places it over Kirishima’s. The sleeping male gasps lightly but doesn’t wake up. That’s a start. He concentrates to keep the hold strong. “Kiri?” He asks quietly, “Can you hear me?”

“Izuku? Whoa, why are you here?!”

The man’s eyes stay closed, and he doesn’t appear to be awake. But clearly, he was hearing him and responding to it. Like sleep talking. Perfect, that works.

“I wanted to check on you Kiri and tell you not to give up on Kacchan.”

He sees Kirishima’s brows furrow. “I’d never give up on him.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Tell me, do you love him Kiri?”

“Yes, but he loves you not me and you love him too. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“Kiri, Kacchan doesn’t love me like that and neither did I.”

“But he’s so upset over your death. He must love you.”

“Oh Kiri, he’s upset because of guilt. We grew up together, and it just hit him hard that for the first time in 20 years he must face this world without me around.”

“That’s true…”

“So now more than ever he needs you, Kiri. Kacchan needs someone to turn to who’ll never give up on him.”

“I can do that.”

“One last thing. It’s hard for Kacchan to talk about his feelings. The more you push, the more he’ll back away.”

There’s a long pause before the man responds. His brows furrow as if deep in thought, but Kirishima eventually lets out a long exhale. “Okay. You know him best, so I’ll do as you suggest.”

Midoriya places his free hand over his friend’s forehead. “You sleep now and thank you for taking care of him for me.”

“Goodbye Izuku.”

“Goodbye Eijiro.”

When Midoriya releases his hand, the man slips back into a more relaxed sleep. The harrowed look on his face replaced by a small smile, as if it had lifted a great weight from his shoulders. Kirishima wasn’t out of the woods yet regarding Bakugou, but at least now he could move forward without thinking he was interfering in something that never existed.

With one last look at the sleeping male, Midoriya hoped for the best and leaves to go back to Bakugou’s apartment. Of all the places he could have been pulled back to after he died, not his own apartment, his mother’s home, even the UA campus, it was here and he’s finally understanding why. There was still one last unfinished business to be tended to.

And now that he knew he could reach the living in their sleep he could try to talk to his childhood friend… But as he sat on the edge of the blondes bed, watching the restless man, he debated whether he should. It would probably be best to let someone amongst the living help him because they would have to continue the work. Yet this was his old friend and he couldn’t stand by and just observe.

With a hand placed on Bakugou’s chest, he pushes his energy at the man. No talking, just emotions. In life he’d always been a positive person, and so he uses those same emotions to influence his friend now from the other side. Midoriya watches on tentatively, first seeing the man stiffen up, then his body slowly relax. It was working. A soft sigh escapes the sleeping male along with one tear. It wasn’t much and hopefully just the small sense of Midoriya’s presence would be enough to calm the blonde for the rest of his slumber.

He smiles and releases his hold on the man. “It’s gonna be okay Kacchan. I promise…”

The next morning, Bakugou awakens more rested than he’s had in weeks, which was odd since he swore, he’d felt like shit when he’d gone to bed. Come to think of it, the scant memories of his dream were of happier times instead of reliving his friend’s death, and it even felt as if Midoriya was there in the room with him. ‘No,’ he shakes his head, ‘it’s cause you were hallucinating last night, idiot.’

When he looks at the clock, he realizes he’d overslept, which was highly unusual for him. The time read 10 am, but because he’d drawn the blackout curtains, the sunlight never alerted him. Oh well, it was his day off, anyway.

A knock at his front door drags him out of bed. Really?! He growls as he stomps to the door. If it was Kirishima again here to beg him to talk, he swore to holy hell he would beat the fuck out of the man. He was tired of everyone trying to force him into talking!

“Katsuki? You up man?”

“What the fuck do you want now Eiji?!”

Kirishima takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I just want to apologize f-for pushing you too hard. I get it, okay, you’re not ready to talk yet but when you are, just know, I’ll always be here for you Katsuki.” He stops there, waiting to see if the man will respond, but after a couple minutes of dead silence, it’s clear there wouldn’t be any. He’s crestfallen. But at least the man wasn’t yelling at him which was a start. “Okay, I’ll be going now. See you around, man.”

On the other side of the door, Bakugou listened to the words coming from his friend. It was a complete turnaround from the night before and frankly surprised him a bit. No, he wasn’t ready to talk yet, but he pleased that Kirishima finally recognized it. Don’t get him wrong, he appreciated their concerns, he just wanted to deal with things on his terms.

And of all of their motley crew, Kirishima would have been the only one he would talk to when that time came. His feelings for the redhead were still a little confusing. Well, to be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure where his heart had been swinging before all of this had happened. But one thing was for certain, he could always rely on Kirishima.

“Wait, Eiji…” He cracks the door open enough to see the man a few steps away but turned back to look at him. “If you agree not to talk about it, you can come in.”

The redhead smiles with relief and holds up a hand, “I won’t.” This was a step in the right direction, and he wasn’t about to ruin it. ‘Thank you Izuku.’ Whether the dream was wishful thinking or something else, he’s glad he’d had it.

Midoriya watches the apartment door close behind them. A tingling sensation washes over him and his body slowly disappears. He smiles, his job is done. Bakugou needs to let him go before his soul can be at peace and this is his confirmation that the man is on the road to recovery. One day he’ll see his friend again, but it was Kirishima’s turn now, and he knew the redhead wouldn’t let him down.

Over the next few days, Kirishima keeps to his promise never bringing up Midoriya’s death or even the man in general. He could tell Bakugou was still fighting with himself internally, but at least he wasn’t locking himself away alone in the apartment. After the workday was over, he dropped by, sometimes brining dinner with him, at other times Bakugou cooking. Oh, how he missed his best friends cooking! Just by looking at the blonde, you’d never think he’d be a whiz in the kitchen, but his meals were always perfectly prepared.

Things almost felt back to normal in these moments. Their conversations revolving around the usual. Dealing with villains, their families, and what their other friends were up to. Anything that could distract from sadder topics. Kirishima didn’t care how long it would take to get Bakugou through this event, but he was ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

He let Bakugou prompt or direct conversations most of the time. It was safer that way then to tread into a topic that might trigger a bad memory. But one of their favorite things to do was simply sit on the couch and quietly watch movies together. For as loud as the blonde could be, he wasn’t much of a talker anyways.

The night started off no differently than the last three before it. Kirishima arrived around 6 pm and Bakugou had cooked dinner. The blonde knew his friend was off the next day, so he decided it was time to get a few things off of his chest. He’d agonized over this for far too long and finally realized he’d never get over Midoriya’s death by holding everything in.

It had started the morning he’d woken up for the first time in a month without a nightmare. His brain told him he was imagining things, but his heart had felt Midoriya’s presence around the night before. A soothing presence and the unmistakable comfort only the childhood friend could provide. Maybe it was because of this turn around that he’d let Kirishima in that day, but whatever it was, it had been the start of his healing process.

“What should we watch tonight,” Kirishima asks with the remote poised in his hand. “Action, horror, or comedy?”

Without looking up from the floor, Bakugou reaches over and lowers the man’s hand slowly. “I rather just talk, if that’s okay?” Though he needed to address the main issue at some point, there was another reason he needed to get off his chest first.

Kirishima puts the remote down. “Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Expecting it to be about Midoriya, he made sure to give Bakugou his undivided attention.

“Did you notice anything different about my quirk today?” Since the day Midoriya died, he’d been careful not to reveal what had happened. But in his stress with the villain, his control had faltered.

“Not really, but I couldn’t watch you the entire time.”

Bakugou sighs, “you gotta promise me never to reveal what I’m about to tell you.” He turns and looks at the man. “No one can know I told you Eiji, absolutely no one.”

“Of course, you can trust me Katsuki.”

He looks away again. “Midoriya was actually born quirkless…”

It takes Bakugou approximately 30 minutes to explain the truth about Midoriya, All Might, and the quirk known as One For All. How he’d figured it out and that’s why they brought him into the fold. He brings up the fight with Shigaraki as an example of why it’s so important to keep it a secret. The power of the quirk was one thing, but it’s transferability was another reason. Bakugou explains what happened during the fight with Nine.

“It was the first time Midoriya shared OFA with me.”

“First time?”

Bakugou sighs. “Do you remember a bright flash of light at the time he died?”

“Yeah, but I just thought it was a reflection.”

The blonde shakes his head. “That was OFA transferring to me.” He holds his hands up and stares at them, concentrating to make a bit of electricity spark around them.

Kirishima’s eyes widen. That was not Bakugou’s sparks but looked like Midoriya’s lightning instead!

“I was so angry when it happened! How dare he just give this to me! I don’t deserve it. It should have stayed with him… he should be the one alive wielding this power…”

Despite his shock, Kirishima recovers quickly. “I’m sure he felt you deserved it, or he wouldn’t have given it to you.”

“Yeah… I know. All Might explained to me afterwards that OFA has to accept the person too. You can’t just,” he waves his hand gesturing in the air, “give it to anyone. I think… I was just angry because this is supposed to be Deku’s power, not mine. He deserved it, he earned it, a-and I never did.”

“I think you did.” Kirishima places a hand on his friends shoulder. “Midoriya thought you did, and that should be enough to believe in yourself man. He wouldn’t have given it to you if he thought you couldn’t handle it.”

“But what if I can’t do it justice? I’m not exactly the symbol of peace.”

That makes Kirishima chuckle. “I’m sorry for laughing cause you’re right about that, but it still doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. Katsuki, you told me he looked up to you all his life as the epitome of a hero next to All Might. So, what if you’re not the bubbly, happy type. What’s important is that you still do what is right.”

“The public is devastated that their symbol is now gone, so am I supposed to take Deku’s place in that role? Gah!” He cradles his face in his hands. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain my new-found powers to the public. And if people notice the similarities with Deku, how do I explain it?! I’m so confused, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should avoid using it…”

“Stop it!”

Kirishima forces Bakugou to look at him, and when he does, the blondes eyes widen at the boldness and fierce gaze staring back.

“Who cares what other people think! The man chose you Katsuki, you, because he felt you are worthy of it. Don’t let him down and hide, cause that’s not the kind of man we came to both love and admire!”

“What the fuck did you just say?!” Bakugou’s mind reels at the man’s words. “Deku didn’t love me, what the fuck are you talking about?!”

“Are you really that blind?! You were his closest friend and no matter how much you bullied him growing up, he never stopped caring about you.” Kirishima sighs. “I’m not talking about romantic love. Midoriya loved you like a brother.”

“And what about you? You said we.”

Oh crap, he forgot he’d made that slip up! Ugh, of course the blonde caught it. Kirishima’s face burns the color of his hair. “I-I mean you are my best friend, s-so I, you know, I care a lot about you too and that means something.”

Bakugou laughs. “You’re such a horrible liar Eijiro.” He then places his hand against the man’s face and smiles. “But while I’m not ready to go there just yet,” he swipes his thumb gently along the skin, “you are growing on me.”

#krbkmonth2020 #kiribaku #Kirishima eijiro #Bakugou katsuki #bakukiri #bnha #kiribaku fan fiction #kiribaku fan fic #ghost prompt #Eijiro kirishima #Katsuki bakugou

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heroes-fading · 6 years ago

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Why Veronica Mars Won’t Have a Season 5

My introduction to Veronica Mars came in the midst of my father’s death. I watched episodes in hospital waiting rooms before it happened, and holed up in my room afterwards. I found a lot of comfort in the strength that the characters provided. The scene of Logan at his mother’s funeral - maniac and trying to find the humor in it - is exactly what I felt at my father’s. I, like Logan, made jokes and tried shrugging it off. I was certain that this was some sort of cosmic joke, and I was on the receiving end. Veronica’s personality shaped most of who I was in high school - my dad passed away two weeks before I started. Her snark, intelligence, and resilience inspired me so much then. I found a wonderful community with fans of the show, and to this day as a semi-adult I love and adore so many people I met through the show.

When the movie was announced, I was ecstatic. I remember rushing to a bathroom stall at my high school so I could eloquently keyboard-smash about it with my friends, donating to the Kickstarter, wearing my t-shirt, going to the theater with my friend to watch it and livestreaming it the night of its release with my online friends. In a sea of horrible feelings and helplessness, Veronica Mars helped me feel empowered and supported.

That’s partly why all of this stings so badly and feels so much like a betrayal.

Logan Echolls fits into a lot of tropes I’ve grown to hate as a self-identified feminist who has zero time for bad boys. Men who “atone for their sins” to get with a leading heroine are ones I often find boring - so often they’re executed poorly and their past mistakes would be absolutely unforgivable in a real context. Chuck Bass, Damon Salvatore, Spike, et. all are characters I’m tired of seeing in fiction. Logan Echolls organized a bum fight, took out Veronica’s headlights, burned down a community pool, made a series of racist comments to Weevil, and generally had moments of being the absolute worst. But for some weird reason, I have a massive soft spot for Logan and he’s become one of my favorite fictional characters.

Maybe it’s because we’ve seen him go through much, change so much over the course of the show. Maybe it’s because the show actually held him accountable (as well as Veronica) so the redemption didn’t feel cheap or unearned. Or maybe it’s because I’m just a weak heterosexual hypnotized by Jason Dohring’s abs and my feminism only goes so far as who I think is hot. I hope it’s not the last one, but I’m sure some would argue it is! The point is -- healthy, going-to-therapy Logan feels earned after the deaths of his parents, his abusive dad killing his girlfriend, numerous beatings, and too many near death experiences to count. Logan went from being an obligatory psychotic jackass to a fairly well-adjusted boyfriend in a way that made narrative sense.

His offscreen death right after getting married to the love of his life? Not so much.

The thing that stings about Veronica Mars’ final episode is not just Logan’s death - it’s what it means for the show going forward, especially its titular character. What made Veronica lovable was not her toughness as Logan’s final voicemail details. As season 3 Logan reminds us, Veronica isn’t invincible and she isn’t always right. What made her such a compelling character was what was underneath that toughness, and the people around her that highlighted that warmth buried underneath layers of trauma. In other words, what made her a marshmallow. Burnt on the outside, but gooey on the inside, as Wallace describes her in the pilot.

When we meet Veronica in the pilot, she’s been through a litany of traumas: her best friend’s death, a breakup, sexual assault and drugging, social ostracization, her mother’s addiction and swift exit from her life, a swift drop in socioeconomic status, and routine humiliation at the hands of her peers. But in spite of all of that, she’s still the girl that cuts Wallace down from the flag because it’s the right thing to do. She’s still the girl that worries about her father, has sympathy for Logan after his mother’s death despite all of his cruelty, defends and comforts Meg Manning after she endures the same bullying Veronica did, cares (often, initially unwillingly) about the people whose cases she takes, and bakes cookies for her friend after his basketball game just because. Even as recently as the books, Veronica bakes a cake for her terrible, abandoning mother on her birthday in spite of her replacing her and Keith with another family. She looks after her half-brother Hunter, even if he’s a painful reminder of her mother’s foibles. Veronica isn’t nearly as tough as she pretends to be, and that’s a good thing. That’s what makes her interesting and stops her from being like every other cynical hardboiled detective trope.

The people around Veronica - who support her, evolve with her, and serve as contrasts to her - are what help make her story so compelling. People who can tell her when she’s wrong (Logan, Keith, Weevil, et. all), who remind her of her soft side (Keith, Wallace, Mac, Logan), who can stop her from turning into a noir stereotype and cement her as Veronica Mars. People aren’t tuning in just to see Veronica snark at random side characters. Her personal journey in moving past her trauma and her relationships with other characters are what really makes the character who she is.

Her journey, from the pilot episode to the movie, is realizing that she can’t just shove down and run away from her trauma. Over the course of her show, we see her form bonds with people in spite of her attempts not to - Wallace, Mac, Logan, and a variety of others. They help her, support her, and challenge her in ways that only serve to make her story more interesting. In the movie, we see Veronica realize she can’t keep running and she doesn’t want a cushy life as a New York lawyer with a boyfriend who doesn’t understand why she cares so much about what happens in her hometown. Neptune, as corrupt and corroded as it is, is her hometown.

That’s why it’s such a spectacular slap in the face for the end of season 4 to offer the exact opposite. Veronica loses her husband (after finally evolving from the Veronica in the pilot who swore she was never getting married because she was so cynical about relationships) immediately after marriage. She leaves behind Keith, Wallace, and everyone else to chase unknown cases with unknown people in unknown places. As Rob has said, he saw this as the only way for Veronica to continue to be interesting - roaming the world solo as if she’s Sherlock Holmes.

This is not character progression. This is not driving the plot forward. This is regressing to a character to a point even before the pilot episode - a hardened Veronica who pretends she doesn’t care, who uses her trauma as an armour, and keeps people away from her. It undermines the central message of the movie - that Neptune is her home and in spite of her problems, she’s willing to fight for it. By killing Logan, Rob wanted to kill Veronica’s ties to Neptune. This isn’t an evolution - it’s a devolution.

Rob Thomas has offered this option before - a Veronica exit vehicle sans everyone else, including only Kristen Bell snarking at a camera - in the form of the last-ditch FBI pilot. It was not well received by fans nor networks, and unsurprisingly not picked up or seen anywhere other than a reposting on YouTube. I think if he sincerely expects any other result from a similar future attempt, he’s lying to himself.

If Rob Thomas wanted the male character-centric P.I. noir he initially planned on writing rather than Veronica Mars, he should have written that rather than allowed it to take over the Veronica Mars universe. Writing a woman with the same elements of toxic masculinity as male characters (a complete disregard for their own feelings, ripping themselves away from personal connections, framing “toughness” as superior and emotional development as a waste of time) is not feminism - it’s just lazy. “Strong female characters” don’t have to be made strong by undergoing trauma after trauma and shutting down until they’re a shadow of their former selves. Their male counterparts aren’t expected to have to deal with rape, death, ostracization, and every other possible form of trauma - women sure as hell shouldn’t.

Furthermore, the way that Rob Thomas has framed his fanbase is shameful. Veronica Mars fans aren’t just deranged fangirls too obsessed with Jason Dohring’s abs to care about the health of the story. This isn’t “not what we wanted, but what we needed” - we’re not an audience too stupid to know what’s good for us. We’re an intelligent audience when we’re giving the showrunners money, but when we’re disagreeing with the writing choices we’re just too invested in romance to “get it”. Predictably, these fans (who make up most of Veronica Mars’ fanbase that the showrunners claim to adore so much) are women. For decades, women have been stereotyped as media-consumers that only care about romance and thus can’t care about depth as if the two are mutually exclusive. This stereotype is incredibly sexist, especially given what this fanbase in particular has done for this franchise, and the continued insistence that these fans just don’t know what’s good for them or the show is incredibly condescending and transparent.

This fanbase poured $6 million dollars into a Kickstarter for a money, maintained energy for a revival and actively lobbied streaming services and networks for a continuation, and kept the fandom twelve years after the finale episode of its original incarnation aired. As much as some may resent how fan energy encouraged writers to see Logan evolve, or Logan and Veronica to sort out their issues, or anything else - these were choices the writers made and stood by for years. A sudden U-Turn in storytelling to go from “the fans were right, this dynamic is wonderful and we’re going to base our advertising around it!” to “well, it was never supposed to be about that” is a kick to the teeth to a fanbase that (literally!) gave so much.

It’s not as if this is the first time the fanbase has been disappointed by a writing decision. Speaking for myself, I was heavily disappointed by the way sexual assault was handled on the original incarnation of the show. Veronica’s rape was handled by at first not framing it as a sexual assault at all in “A Trip to the Dentist” - Duncan Kane (her ex-boyfriend/potential half-brother at some point in time) having sex with her while she was unconcious was framed as just “feelings and nature taking over” because he was under the influence. In season 3, the writers decided that framing women protesting sexual assault on campus as deranged feminists who sexually assault men by inserting them with Easter eggs was a good choice. That Easter egg part was played for laughs by the show, writers, and leading cast member.

Even the inclusion of Dick Casablancas for laughs - whose GHB was intended for his girlfriend and ended up in Veronica’s cup - doesn’t feel right. Ryan Hansen’s charm explains a lot of it, but the show seems to place a lot more blame on Madison for Veronica’s rape despite the fact she narrowly escaped the same fate at Dick’s hands. I was disappointed then, and I’m still disappointed with it now - far away from any romantic concerns of the show.

And my biggest problem with the ending of season 4 isn’t just that Logan is dead. I’m incredibly crushed and disappointed to see all of that character development be met with an offscreen car-bomb, but it doesn’t bode well for Veronica’s characterization and ultimate arc either. I fell in love with Veronica’s character first, and I don’t even recognize her anymore.

If the movie was a thank you to the marshmallows (both the fans and Veronica’s inner softness), the ending of the show was a middle finger to both. If the lesson from the series and the film is that you fight for things because they’re worth it and not because they come easily (whether they be relationships or towns), then the lesson from the revival is that the best thing to do is leave and take your bags. So much of the narrative was set up around Veronica accepting who she was and where she’s from - and the revival’s Veronica has finally been traumatized so much she’s packing her bags and giving up. That’s not toughness. That’s not strength. That’s certainly not saving the show or the character.

That’s selling a grim story because you think it’s edgy. That’s trying to be subversive and failing, too focused on shock value to care about the characters. There’s a reason shows like Game of Thrones, Dexter, and How I Met Your Mother got such backlash -- they just don’t make narrative sense and the endings are far from satisfying. Making the fans happy isn’t a mark of bad storytelling, especially when the survival of your franchise has been so contingent on it. Sometimes, they actually do know what they’re talking about! And if you want a season five, maybe don’t alienate your fans to a point they don’t recognize the show anymore. Rob mentioned, “...I will have made a really bad bet if, en masse, the fans turn on the show. That would certainly be a tough lesson to learn.” -- I think he accomplished that!

I wish the Veronica Mars that got me through the toughest parts of my life was still around. But I’d rather say goodbye to her forever than be faced with a cheap imitation.

#veronica mars #veronica mars spoilers #vm spoilers #logan echolls #logan x veronica #veronica mars season 4 #tv: veronica mars

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heartsofminds · 6 years ago

Text

Soapy Water

Description: A blurb in which she drinks three-fourths of a bottle of champagne and Shawn gets splashed with a bucket of soapy water.

Based on this drabble challenge

18. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

26. “The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

29. “How is my wife more badass than me?”

for @imfreefallinall

Shawn always liked to call her the smartest woman in the world, and whenever he did, she delivered a chaste peck to his lips accompanied by a cheeky, “I know.”

But whenever she gets like this, shaky and stressed and so fucking irritated, she doubts how smart she is. She’s been prone to making shitty impulsive decisions and she likes to think she knows better. In fact, she knows that she knows better, but the champagne in the cabinet of her and Shawn’s condo tempts her.

She takes a picture of the bottle and sends it to her fiance who’s halfway across the world (either in Hong Kong or Manila; her days start to run together and she honestly can’t remember). She expects him to be asleep or busy or doing God knows what that’s work-related (because they both know he’s incapable of sitting still and just existing), but to her surprise, three gray dots pop up in their text thread.

“What’s the matter, babe?” he texts. She lets out a weak chuckle before locking her phone.

“If only you knew,” she whispers, popping the bottle and scrambling around the kitchen to find a glass.

She settles for a Spiderman cup that she can’t be damned to remember how it made a home in their cupboard. She shrugs her shoulders as she turns on her speaker and blasts After Laughter, letting the sound of Paramore’s 80s inspired riffs and sad lyrics take over her pity party.

She’s always been bad at letting people in and not allowing her emotions to fester. She liked to bury them in an effort to be less of a nuisance than what she thought she should be. Being a woman in law as a human rights attorney brought forth some pretty harrowing stories, and she doesn’t like to bring her emotions to court with her.

They fester and brew and she continues to swallow them until she explodes and lets out steam. She’ll recollect herself and start over until the pattern becomes full cycle again. She figures that she’s a fidgety person because she’s been drinking glasses of champagne to distract herself.

A fourth of the bottle is left when she decides to set it down and busy herself with the ever-growing list of cleaning she can never seem to tackle. She jolts up off the couch and stumbles a little; the feeling of walking after sitting for so long making her legs feel wobbly. She figures the headache she’s gonna have tomorrow will be a fucking beast, but she doesn’t care.

She starts to fill the sink with water and dish soap to start on the pile of dishes that had been sitting there for two and a half days. Her attention span is shortened due to the alcohol coursing through her veins as she starts on the laundry before attempting to rearrange the entire living room. She starts to wonder if she should clean Shawn’s guitar room as well, but she stops herself before she lets her thoughts get too far.

That’s one thing she definitely knows not to do while she’s tipsy. The last time she stepped foot in the room she was sober, and the baby blue guitar he loved so much took a tumble to the floor. The goddamn thing had to be sent to a special guitar shop in the fucking Netherlands to fix the strings and preserve the “unique” sound. She figures that drunk or sober, Shawn wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, so she shakes her head to dislodge the thoughts before resuming the eighteen million different tasks at hand she created.

She’s in the middle of scrubbing the tiles in the kitchen clean while belting out “Pool” in such a horrid way, she’s sure Hayley Williams herself would be embarrassed to admit she wrote the song.

The front door bursts open and she swears her heart stops. She scrambles for her phone to turn the music off and shuts the lights off in the kitchen and living room. She staggers to her feet, grabbing the bucket of filled with water and Fabuloso she was previously occupying herself using. She takes light steps; walking quietly (as quietly as her drunk self thinks she could be) while struggling to not trip over the shoes left in the hall and random piles of clothes she was planning on washing.

The intruder could be a burglar or a kidnapper or Brian, but she can’t bring herself to think logically. Her eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the dark, but she can see a tall figure that she can only imagine being a fear-eliciting, hostile stranger.

She sees the ominous blob raise its arm and she screams; flinging the bucket forwards and hearing the intruder scream back.

“What the fuck! What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!”

Its voice sounds familiar and she can’t put her finger on why it does. When it reaches over and flicks the hall light on, that’s when she sees him.

Shawn wipes his face with his soaked arm; not really helping what he was trying to achieve, but desperate to get the soapy water out of his eyes.

“Oh my God, babe. What the fuck are you doing?” he sighs, shaking his hands and walking over to the bathroom to rinse his eyes with water.

“I- I thought you were an intruder. You weren’t supposed to be home for another week. You scared the shit out of me,” she hiccups and Shawn can smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Have you been drinking?” he asks, not looking at her because he’s preoccupied with cleaning his eyes.

“It was a few glasses,” she pauses, “That turned into over half the bottle. Please don’t be mad. M’stressed.”

He turns to a pile of her folded laundry on top of the machine in the hallway. He reaches past her, grabbing the mauve colored shirt he knows she stole. He takes his soaked black one off in exchange for the lighter hued one. Shawn turns the tap off and perches his arms up on the bathroom counter. He looks at his red eyes in the mirror before shifting his gaze towards her.

“In the kindest way possible, you look terrible, love. You know you’re a lightweight and you know you have to work tomorrow morning,” he whispers, moving towards her.

He takes his finger and gently presses it underneath her chin, forcing him to look up at him. He can see the tears in her eyes threatening to fall, knowing that she’s about to fall apart any minute.

“Baby, no,” he coos, wrapping her up in a hug, “You know you’re allowed to take a break, right? And you know that feeling things is a human thing. It doesn’t make you weak or stupid or fragile. You can’t make yourself feel bad for having feelings.”

Her tears fall rapidly, soaking through the mauve t-shirt he has on. “I know. I know and it’s stupid to cry about being frustrated but I didn’t wanna be a bother and be the clingy, emotional girlfriend,” she sobs.

He rocks back in forth with her in his arms, resting his chin on top her head.

“Well, you’re wrong about being my girlfriend. We’re engaged now, baby. You’re my fiance, and regardless of your title or whatever the fuck, I’m gonna be available to you always.”

She releases herself from his chest, wiping the tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

“M’so stupid. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Yeah. And the diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

She looks down at the gold ring decorating her finger. “Really?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

Shawn chuckles. “No. Of course not. I was just saying something untrue. Kinda like how you just did.”

She slaps at his chest playfully. “Knock it off.”

“You’re not stupid and when I said I wanted you, I said all of you and I really mean it. I want you on your bad days and good days,” he sits down on the couch, pulling her onto his lap to straddle him. “I want you in your morning glory when you think you look terrible. I want you at nighttime when we go out and you look all sexy in those dresses. I want you forever and always because that’s what I’m here for.”

She avoids eye contact with him, looking down at her hands making little circles on his clothed chest.

“I just feel all this pressure. You know? To be the best and to help people with these cases I take on and to be here for you and to be everything you need. I haven’t visited you on tour once this year, and- and I couldn’t even remember if you were gonna be in Hong Kong or Manila or if you were actually supposed to come home today. I just feel terrible and I know I should’ve called or texted you back, but I just couldn’t bring myself to.”

Shawn shakes his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her’s.

“You’ll never bother me. We’re in this together. And don’t feel bad about not keeping up with my schedule. You’re out here fighting for people’s rights and doing super smart lawyer stuff and making all these cases and winning them,” he pauses, putting his arm underneath his neck to support himself. “All I do is sing the same twenty songs for a year before putting more out. I’m thankful for my job, but I’m even more thankful for you. You’re super smart and kind and funny and you look super sexy when you wear those pencil skirts. How is my wife more badass than me, huh?”

She lets out a weak chuckle. “A hell of a lot of willpower and a superstar to keep me sane.”

He presses a kiss to her swollen lips. He makes the kiss deeper, pressing his hand to her back. She relaxes into his hold, both of their lips attacking each other with expressions of desire and gratitude.

Shawn suddenly stops, eyebrows raised and neck craned to look around.

“Were you washing dishes?” he asks.

She gives him a puzzled look. “Yeah? I think so?”

Shawn shifts and she moves off of his lap.

“Fuck. Did you turn the faucet off?”

Her eyes widen and she scrambles to the kitchen, greeted by the sound of splattering water.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she yells and Shawn lets out a laugh.

His long legs carry him to the scene of the spill to grab some paper towel while mocking her for being so forgetful.

They both laugh, and it’s this moment when she realizes that she loves this man more than she already does.

#sm #shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes oneshots #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn blurb #shawn blurbs #blurb prompts #shawn mendes fluff #boyfriend shawn

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imaginefan · 5 years ago

Note

can you write preferences for when they vent about the reader being their girlfriend, like "that's my girl" moment with loki, thor, stiles stilinski, gale, geralt, iron man, yennefer, dean and winchester

Loki Laufeyson

Loki had heard the screams before he could even see what was happening, you were watching a movie with the others but the screams made him think that something else had happened, he walked into the room and saw everyone had jumped to separate sides of the room and you were in the middle clutching your stomach Loki walked over you pulling you so that you were looking at him. “What happened?” He asked. Your body started shaking as you laughed.

“You remembered… That you taught me that spell… The one for small illusions?” You asked through your laughs.

“That was an illusion?” Tony asked and you curled in on yourself as your muscles started laughing again.

“You're all scared of spiders.” You gasped out.

“I’m scared of spiders that appear out of nowhere.” He answered and you rolled your eyes. Loki smiled as he looked at the frightened faces of the heroes around you.

“That’s my girl.” Loki said as he picked you up “now to teach you something bigger.”

Thor Odinson

Thor had left his hammer in the middle of the floor again and you were getting sick of having to keep yelling at him, you looked at it for a second before gripping it “Thor will you move this- Ahh!” Your sentence was cut off by your own surprise as you found yourself falling backwards.

“(Y/N) my love what happened?” Thor asked as he appeared in the doorway.

“I tripped.” You answered.

“Tripped?” He asked.

“Yes, and your stupid hammer didn’t save me.” You muttered as you lifted it towards him, not really thinking about what you were doing.

“That’s my girl.” He as he walked over to you.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned as he walked to the door calling for the others. “Oh… Oh!” You realised what exactly you were doing and then you looked at your own hand in shock “How is this possible.”

“You are worthy.” He smiled as he walked over to you.

Stiles Stilinski

You had expected for Stiles to be back by now, you knew that there was a certain type of nuance to breaking into an office but it was almost the end of the game, you decided that you were going to go look for him.

The first thing that you heard was the shouting from the swimming pool, you ran to the door and saw Stiles and Derek in the pool “What the hell is going on?” You asked.

“(Y/N) watch out!” Stiles yelled you noticed the moving shadow to your left and dodge as it came at you.

“Oh, I get it.” You nodded as you dodged out of the way again. “Did you at least find out what it is?”

“Not yet!” Stiles yelled back.

“So what am I supposed to do with it!?” You asked.

“It doesn’t like the water,” Stiles answered.

“Is that so?” You asked as you took out your phone and put in your password before having to dodge the creature again, you attempted to call Scott as you tried to get closer to the pool. You were standing with your back to the pool “Come on!” You yelled before jumping out the way at the last minute the lizard gave a harsh shout before jumping out the water and leaving, Scott appeared two seconds later to help you pull Derek and Stiles out of the pool.

“Where’d it go?” Scott asked.

“You should have seen (Y/N) she kicked the thing into the pool and he ran,” Stiles said and you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s just get out of here.” You muttered before heading to the door.

Gale Hawthorne

You had been out hunting before but you weren’t all too good at it, Gale said that he was going to help you, so you met him outside of the gates where he taught you how to place your feet so that you could move quietly, you had a few practice shots before you headed out. “This is going to end so badly.” You muttered to yourself.

“Stop being so hard on yourself.” Gale said softly before pressing a kiss to your head and leading you through the forest, you walked behind him concentrating on not making any noise, Gale tapped the top of your head as he turned back to you, he pointed up into the bushes where there was a deer grazing. You stepped in front of him and positioned yourself as he told you.

“Breath in and pull back to your chest.” He said softly. “Elbow up.” You loosed the arrow that hit the deer in the shoulder, you released a second arrow that flew through the air that hit the chest seconds after killing the deer. “That’s my girl.”

“Beginners luck.” You played it down.

“We’ll see.” He smiled as he pulled you towards the deer that you had just killed.

Geralt Of Rivia

Geralt had just finished a job, he had left you with Roach and Jaskier, you were supposed to make sure that the men that had hired him didn’t try to leave without paying him, or even tried to steal from him. Now the first thing that he heard were the screams of the men that had hired him and you talking in a dangerously low tone. When he broke through the trees to find you had the man on the floor you knee pressed to his back and his arm pulled up behind him “They move I’ll break it.” You threatened as you gestured to his friends who seemed to have been moving towards Jaskier and Roach.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Oh Geralt your back.” You smiled “they did just what you thought that they would, they tried to skip out on the deal.”

“Mmm.” Geralt grunted.

“Give him the money.” The man under your knee ordered and one of the others threw him the money before you let him go and they all run. You stood up dusting yourself off as Geralt stepped up behind you wrapping an arm around your waist.

“That’s my girl.” He said softly as Jaskier groaned from across the clearing.

Tony Stark

Tony made a mistake that much was clear but there was no point in everyone yelling at him, you were all just wasting time, so you stepped up “Are you all done!?” You asked.

“He’s-”

“Made a mistake, haven’t we been cleaning up everyone else’s these past few months?” You asked.

“That’s-”

“Not the point. No, but we don’t have time to yell about everything.” You explained and Steve looked at you. “Yes mistakes have been made, Tony knows that, we all know that, there’s no point in standing around arguing about it while the bad guy gets a head start.”

“Your right,” Steve said.

“Everyone take a minute and then we’ll sort this out.” You said, everyone left the room and you turned to Tony. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Look I-”

“You're going to fix it.” You ordered.

“You're just finishing everyone’s sentences today.” He teased.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “I stop people from yelling at you, that's why you love me.”

“That's why you're my girl.” Tony smiled pulling you into a hug.

Yennefer

You and Yen were travelling together, you’d decided that you needed to stop for the night because sleeping on the road just was not going to cut it for another night. You walked into the Tavern and you had expected some stares but you hadn’t expected for someone to actually approach you both. “You ladies need a place to stay?” The man asked, he literally could not stand upright and his smelled terrible.

“Leave us be,” Yen said dismissing him but he stepped closer managing to fit himself between your’s and Yen’s seats.

“Come on I’m sure that I can-” He was cut off by you grabbing his hand and twisting it behind his back.

“I don’t think you can keep up.” You teased as your knife pressed against his neck.

“You can do better than that.” Yen smirked and you moved the knife down to his stomach. “Warmer.” She reached forward-moving it down further. “That’s my girl.”

“No, wait.” He pleaded.

“Next time it’ll be more than a threat.” You informed him before letting go and sheathing the knife.

“We don’t need your help Geralt, she’s got it covered,” Yen called out and you looked behind you to see Geralt standing arms folded as he watched the scene play out. You just smiled and waved before pulling Yen to your room.

Dean Winchester

Dean had met you after Sam had left and you guys hand been hunting together ever since, you went back with him to find Sam when their Dad went missing and you stuck by him no matter what happened but there was one thing that you did that he considered one of your most important skills, whenever you had access to a kitchen you would cook a pie and today was no different.

The bunker was quiet, the boys were sleeping, you were up early for no particular reason so you decided to make a pie, you knew that Dean would want one, it was about half way through the cooking process that the smell seemed to pull Dean out of bed and you giggled went he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of your face when he appeared in the kitchen. “What are you doing up so early?” He asked.

“It’s not early. Sam just went for his workout.” You answered and he looked at the door and then the oven.

“But you were up before that.” He said and you nodded.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged “I was up so I thought that I would bake a pie.”

“Pie!?” He asked.

“It’s not done yet.” You laughed pushing him away from the oven.

30 to 40 minutes later you were sitting at the table and Dean had a whole pie in front of him as Sam walked through the door “Where’d you get that?” Sam asked.

“(Y/N) made it.” Dean answered a smile stretching across his face “my girl knows what I need.” Sam just rolled his eyes and left the room to take a shower while you rested your head against the table tired and embarrassed.

Sam Winchester

Sam hadn’t ever really had a problem with researching for a case but for some reason he just could focus he was sitting at the table with a blank look on his face as he re read the same passage for the 4th time, you glanced over at him and frowned before picking up the laptop doing a quick search on the town.

“Hey what about this?” You mumbled softly as you turned the laptop to show an article about the house that you were looking into. “A girl died in the house, they marked it as a suicide but maybe we can find out why she did it.”

“You are perfect.” He smiled as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“All I did was search the town.” You shrugged and he smiled.

“You're perfect.” He said again before turning and walking out the room “Dean!” He called. “My wonderful, perfect, ama-”

“Sammy we get it, what have you got!?” You heard Dean shout cutting off his younger brother and causing you to groan, you’ll hear about that later.

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daysswithyou · 5 years ago

Text

Fallen Chapter 24: Déja vu

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Warning!: Cursing and swearing, mentions of blood and bodily wounds

------

Tear me apart,

Rip me to shreds,

Leave me as nothing but skin and bones,

An empty shell of what I used to be before.

---

With the stars and moon hanging overhead, Younghyun dropped you off outside the female living area and made you promise that you’ll take a shower before meeting him for dinner an hour later. You nodded, mustering up a weak smile just to show him that you’re alright. You returned to an empty room; Esther should be with Jae now, presumably having a dinner date. You scrubbed your body vigorously in the shower, wanting to get rid of every last bit of dried salt clinging to your skin. Your skin was red, raw and tingling by the time you exited the shower but you could care less. At least you felt clean, clean from all the dark thoughts that previously clouded your mind, though you could never be fully cleansed of the painful memories. Walking along the hallways, you jumped when you saw someone waiting outside your door.

Bubblegum pink hair… classic red nails… This was Ayeon standing outside your room, no doubt about that. You gritted your teeth at the sight – seeing her always spelt trouble. Straightening your back, you ignored her but alas, before you could even get a grip on your doorknob, her voice had reached your ears.

“Drinks? My treat.”

“No thank you, I’ve got somewhere to be soon.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket Rachel. It’s just harmless drinks.”

You turned around and crossed your arms before fixing Ayeon with your hardest stare.

“Really? The last time I checked, you don’t ever find me without good reason.”

Ayeon chuckled, but it was a mirthless laughter. Oh, how she wanted to scratch that stare off your face but not yet. Not now. Like a female lioness, patience will be her greatest virtue now – before she went in for the kill later.”

“Alright Rachel, you got me. I do have some things that I want to tell you.”

“You can just say it here.”

“I would need a little more time than that. So why not get comfortable over drinks?”

Ayeon lifted her red lips into a smile, and you knew that you weren’t actually left with a choice. Unless you went with her, she would not stop hounding you. You might as well get it done and over with.

“Wait here.”

You entered your room and slammed the door shut before leaning your back against it. You sent a quick text to Younghyun to tell him that you’ll be late – he didn’t need to know that you’ll be with Ayeon else things are going to get really messy. You swiftly switched off the phone screen once the message was sent. Remembering that she was still outside the door, you scrunched your face up in annoyance, gentling messaging your temple due to the massive headache that was currently splitting your brain open.

What the hell does she want with me?

---

Ayeon decided to go to a bar by the beach and you mentally swore for agreeing to her stupid deal in the first place. Being on the beach again reminded you of today’s earlier events and you could feel the discomfort crawl under your skin, almost like a million ants were festering under your skin. But there was no way – no fucking way – that you’d admit this weakness to Ayeon. Suppressing your fear, you held your head up high as you walked behind her. As the bar got closer, you could hear the addictive tropical house beats blast from the stereo speakers, the occasional lyrics becoming clearer once you reached the hut. You recognise some of the people at the bar as your classmates and you gave them a small wave as a greeting. Some waved back but quickly frowned when they realised who you came with. Guess your bad relationship with Ayeon is still widely remembered by everyone. You heaved a sigh as Ayeon greeted the bartender with a smile and waved them over.

Let’s just survive this conversation, then go get dinner.

You’re broken from your reverie by her question.

“Martini for you?”

“Yes. Lime. Please.”

“One vodka for me, and one lime martini for the lady here. Charge both to my bill.”

You watched as Ayeon passed her black card over and you kept your gaze on her, expecting her to initiate conversation. But she merely glanced at you from the side of her eyes, smirking as she did so.

“You’re in no hurry, right? Let’s enjoy the music and ambience as we wait for the drinks.”

This bitch is playing with me. Fucking hell.

“Sure.”

You kept your voice levelled, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that your blood was currently boiling inside because of her. Thank goodness Lady Luck was on your side tonight, for the drinks arrived shortly and you resisted the urge to gag when you saw the bartender throw a wink at Ayeon, to which she giggled like some love-struck main in a chick flick. You felt a vessel pop in your temple, and you quickly brought the drink up to your lips, hoping the hot liquid would distract you from that sight.

“Out with it Ayeon. I know you’re not here to enjoy my company. Say your piece, and then we can both part ways.”

“Ouch Rachel, I am hurt.”

You tsked at Ayeon and you saw the shift in her gaze. She released her lips from the rim of the glass cup before turning fully to face you.

“Since you’re so eager to leave, Rachel, I shall cut to the chase. I know about the deal, and I want Brian back.”

Upon hearing her words, you scoffed out loud with your tongue in cheek. The audacity of this bitch to want him back after all the damage she has done. Has she no shame?

“Ayeon, in case your memory fails you, perhaps I should remind you that you’re the one that broke up with first and then publicly humiliated him. After all the damage you’ve wrought on him, you want him back? Your shamelessness is truly astounding. Besides, you can’t just ask for it back. It no longer belongs to you.”

You expected Ayeon to land a harsh slap across your face for insulting you, but she merely pulled her lips back into a smile, showing off her perfectly neat rows of white teeth.

“Oh really? I think it does. Normally I would have taught you a lesson for insulting me but I shan’t waste my energy when I’ve got an easier method to deal with you.”

You watched as Ayeon tapped her phone screen a few times before your phone screen lighted up – as with all your other classmates surrounding you – with a notification from the school app.

You continued to glare at Ayeon. What game is she playing right now?

Ayeon doesn’t waver under your gaze, she merely picked up the stem of her glass delicately before bringing the clear liquid to her lips.

“Check it. I’m sure you’ll be very interested to see it’s content since it involves… a certain… someone.”

The bite in her last word made it clear who she’s referring to and your fingers moved on their own accord to swipe at the notification. A video post with no caption is presented to you and you pressed the play button. The whole video is dark due to poor lighting and you barely make out his figure until the moonlight shone across the planes of his face, illuminating his prominent, handsome nose.

Younghyun… but what the hell… why does he look so dishevelled… and that suit…

You recognised the suit now – it was the one that he wore when he showed up looking all dazed and frightened at your doorstep. The image of his fear-stricken face appeared in the forefront of your mind again, the harrowing image knocking the wind out of you. Audio emitted from your phone speakers again; someone was shuffling offscreen. When you saw her, that’s when you felt the phantom, ice cold hands wrap their fingers around your throat, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you as it got harder to breathe with each passing second. You’d recognise that pink bubblegum hair anywhere – one that is currently sported by the same lady sitting in front of you in flesh.

The pair in the video was none other than Ayeon and Younghyun, the former whom now had Younghyun pinned against the wall as she aggressively sucked his face. Younghyun had one hand up her thigh, with the other on her lower back. Then, a flash of white hair in the video – Dowoon. Dowoon whom had accidently witnessed this sinful sight that very night. The weight of the truth finally hit you all at once, one that had you stumbling out of your chair as your phone clattered against the glass table top.

So, this was what happened that night. This was what Dowoon was trying to warn me about this entire time. Gosh… I’m such a fool. Younghyun cheated on me. Another guy fucking cheated on me – again. I’m so stupid for believing him… for believing that he loved me.

Against your wishes to not show an ounce of vulnerability in front on Ayeon, your body betrayed you as your throat ran dry, scalding tears already pooling at your lash line. Your grip on your phone is so strong that the screen almost cracked, your nails pierced into the soft flesh of your thigh and drew blood in the process. Ayeon snickered from her spot in front of you, relishing in the sight of your emotional torment. She broke you again – twice now. Oh, just how much more pathetic can you be?

“Like what you see Rachel? Told you his heart still belongs to me.”

Your body felt so weak due to the torrent of emotions currently raging within you – so incredibly weak that you can’t even make a sound to retort Ayeon. Then the sound of a suppressed giggle came from behind you and that has you snapping your head up to look at the person. Your classmate is currently stifling their laughter behind the palm of their hands, the fingers pointed at your pathetic self. More laughter erupted around the bar, some openly jeered at you now. This sort of scene… it’s all too familiar to you.

The canteen.

Jaebeom.

The public breakup.

It’s happening all over again – you’re the prey laid out in plain sight for all the wolves to see, before they closed in to rip you into shreds. Your head rung painfully with their shrill laughter; your heart hammering so painfully hard in your chest that you thought it might shatter your ribs. Your head is jerked back by Ayeon to face her, her perfectly manicured fingers digging viciously into your jaw,

With a sneer, she spat: “Go on, run Rachel. Run like you always do, run like the pathetic creature that you are. That’s what you do best anyways – running from all your problems.”

She then pushed you off to the side, sending you tumbling off the chair. She stopped short of kicking sand into your face – you looked wretched and pitiful enough. She didn’t feel the need to trod all over you again, you’re already doing a good job making yourself look absolutely miserable. Rising on wobbly and unsteady feet, you stumbled out of the bar, moving further away from the group of people that wanted nothing more than to tear you apart.

One step,

Then the second,

And another.

Soon, you’re thundering down the length of the beach, kicking up sand behind you as their laughter got softer and softer,

And then,

Silence.

The quiet static of cricket chirps filled your ears, the sound mixing up with the distant lapping of the waves upon the shore and the rustling of palm trees above you. It was quiet – just you against the world with your broken heart. On a normal night, you would have enjoyed the tranquil atmosphere and view; the stars still looked pretty hanging like shining crystals in the sky but tonight… your soul felt void. Completely drained and sucked dry of every good emotion in this cruel world – you honestly doubted that you’d be able to feel positive emotions after all the turmoil that you’ve gone through in your life, more so after tonight’s events. Younghyun’s cheating incident was really the last push that sent you tumbling over the edge, crashing into a million pieces with no hopes of ever being whole again. No matter how hard you tried, the unwanted images from before refused to leave your mind. Even when you squeezed your eyes shut, the cursed images kept replaying again.

Her lips on his…

His hands on her thighs…

The forsaken clothes on the floor.

One need not be told to know what happened next. The memory sent a shockwave through your body, and you lurched forward violently as your chest caved in on itself, forcing you onto the hard gravel, scrapping your knees and palms in the process. Yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil within you. A strangled sob escaped you as the first tears streamed down your face like a thundering waterfall – never ending and soaking your outfit wet. You really did not want to make a fool of yourself and cry in public but you knew you could not keep it in anymore – else the pressure would kill you. So, there in the middle of the street, you wailed as you felt your heartstrings snapped. It was physically possible to die from a heartbreak and for a moment, you considered the possibility that you might. You were not sure how long you cried for – minutes? Hours? Time lost it’s meaning to you. After all – you no longer had an appointment to keep, or a place to be. You cried yourself dry, till you could not physically produce tears anymore. You felt like you were going to pass out any moment, and the first instinct would be to call Esther for help. To talk? To come and get you? Maybe both. You just knew that you wanted your best friend by your side now to hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright – because you no longer had the strength to say those words to yourself – maybe you needed someone to tell you so that you would believe it.

You tapped your phone screen weakly, only to realise that it had been damaged beyond repair during the incident just now. The screen was glitching – now it would be impossible for you to contact Esther. The additional distraught of being left with a damaged phone and no means to contact anyone caused another wave of frustration to bubble up within you and you let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound scratching against your hoarse vocal cords. With blurry vision, you slowly rose from the ground and stumbled forward. You didn’t know where to go – all you knew was that you wanted to go far away – to a place where no one would recognise you, and no one you knew could find you.

Away from Ayeon, away from Younghyun, away from this damned life that you led.

To leave things behind, you’d have to keep moving forward – and so you did. You dragged your limp body forward along the unknown path with no idea where it’ll lead you. Even when you walked right into the middle of the road, you didn’t notice until you saw a burst of light so bright that pain shot right through your eyes as the horrible screeching of tires pierced through the silent night, the smell of burning asphalt making you gag. It took you a few seconds to realise that you nearly got ran over by a car – almost, but not quite. The shock sent you collapsing onto the floor, scrapping your already wounded hands more. Any further abrasions and your skin might just be ripped to ribbons. The headlights of the car were inches from your face and when you lifted your eyes to look at the driver, you aren’t even surprised anymore.

She wanted you dead, maybe she was just making sure of it now. From her seat behind the wheel, Ayeon sneered at you. You’re a pest that just won’t die, constantly interfering in her life and making it difficult for her. And now? You nearly sent her to jail for an almost hit-and-run incident. The bright headlights gave Ayeon a clear view of you and she scoffed. Not only did you feel like a pest, you even looked like one. Disgusting – a creature that no one would want to look at. Your eyes were bloodshot from all the crying; no doubt. Your hair has fallen out of the neat braid it once was in, the strands of hair clinging to your face. Your nice outfit now stained with red, your perfect hands and feet now ruined from the damage you’ve caused yourself. Ayeon always knew you were… pathetic… but she never imagined this level of degradation that you would wreck upon yourself. Ayeon does not have sympathy to help you so she swerved her car and left you in her dust. Someone will pick you up eventually, or you could get run over by another car for real this time – she honestly could care less.

As for you, you just sat where Ayeon had left you, much too distraught to move yourself to a safer place. The world hates me so much, it’s trying to kill me now. It should have just now when it had the chance to. Why am I not dead yet? You chuckled darkly to yourself like a lunatic at your thoughts, pressing your forearm against your face. But the laughter soon gave way to more tears, though you previously thought you were incapable of producing more after crying yourself dry. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat by the side of the road, listening as cars passed you by.

The next time you saw light, Esther’s face was right in front of yours. One look at you, and tears immediately brimmed in her eyes – a rare sight for someone as tough as her.

“Rachel… what happened to you?”

---

The notification appeared on Esther’s phone screen when Jae went to get coconut drinks for them.

Ayeon? What’s the crazy gal up to again? Another video? What is this?

Esther pressed play and by the time Jae returned to her side, her face had turned ashen with her jaws clenched and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Esther? What’s wrong?”

“That bastard. That bastard that we call a friend. He cheated on Rachel.”

Jae nearly dropped the drinks when she turned to face him – never before has he seen such feral rage in her eyes, the fire blazing fiercer with each passing second.

“What are you talking about? What did Brain do?”

“This. This is what he did.”

Esther shoved her phone in Jae’s face and clicked play. Oh, now he knew. Now Jae knew why Esther was going mad with rage. There was no mistake about it – Brian and Ayeon are back together again. And now the whole world knew.

“I need to find Rachel. I need to tell her this before she finds out on her own.”

“Wait Esther, let’s not be brash. What if she’s seen it already?”

“Then all the more I need to be by her side to comfort her. Twice, this has happened to her. She’s gotten her heart broken by jerks that don’t deserve her. I know he’s your friend Jae, but this is where I draw the line. You don’t have to follow me, and I’m sorry but date night will have to wait.”

With that, Esther took off down the length of the beach, racking her brains on places that you might possibly be at. Jae returned the drinks to the stall owner before hollering after Esther, as the stall owner hollered at him to take the money back. She ran to the other end of the beach when she spotted you there. A speck in the middle of the road. That’s you for sure – she’d recognise your favourite sundress anywhere.

“RACHEL!”

Jae thought he would finally be able to catch up with Esther after running for so long, but he only groaned when he saw her picking up speed again. How she coulf outrun him despite all his basketball training still baffled him – he’s truly got one hell of a girlfriend.

When Esther finally got to you, she nearly stumbled back from the shock. Who did this to you? Who reduced you to this weeping, hollow shell of a person that she once knew as her best friend? The wounds – oh gosh the wounds were the worst. Long cuts across your legs and arms, the wounds festered for a long time; she could tell because of the dried blood against your white dress. Some were deep with gravel stuck between the gaping wounds, she could only pray that you would not need stitches but she was not optimistic. But it was your eyes that told your story without words – oh, how could someone’s eyes hold so much sorrow in them? The blood smeared across your face gave you a ghastly look, but it was really the look of anguish in your bloodshot eyes that broke Esther’s heart and forced tears through her eyes.

“Rachel… what happened to you? Who did this to you…that monster! The wounds… they look really bad. You must have been out here for so long so let’s get you to the hospital first alright? Those wounds must be cleaned before it gets infected.”

Esther moved to help you up gently, but you merely gripped onto her shirt tightly, pulling her down to sit beside you.

“It hurts Esther… it hurts…”

“I know Rachel, I know. That’s why we got to get them cleaned alright? Then they’ll hurt less once they’re recovering.”

“Not the… not the wounds. Here. It hurts here. It hurts so much I think I might just die.”

“Where…? Oh, oh no, Rachel please don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears… please don’t cry…”

When Esther finally looked down at you, you weren’t holding onto your wounds in pain like a normal person would. Instead, you were clutching onto your heart, fisting the fabric above that area so hard that you might tear the material at any time. Nothing could compare to the emotional pain that was still wrecking your body at this point in time. Even Jae – whom was watching in the background – felt anger slowly rise within him for the pain his friend had caused you. No one deserved to suffer through this sort of emotional torture. Brian had disappointed him, and all of them. As you continued to sob into Esther’s embrace, Jae’s phone rung in the background.

Brain Kang calling

Not now Brian.

Jae’s phone continued ringing, and when Jae finally lifted his eyes to look at Esther, he knew that she could never forgive him.

“If it’s Brian calling, tell that bastard to get lost, and never appear in front of my sight again. I will rip him to shreds if he does, I could never forgive him for what he had done to her.”

Jae gulped, swiping the red button as the world around you went black.

Like déjà vu, your whole world came crashing down on you.

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