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duskamethyst · 4 years ago

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stranger danger.

a/n: did i sit on top of my car to imagine this? sure did. a part of the jujutsu hub collab! thank you vee @suna-reversed for organizing this horny event for us horny people.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, pwp

warnings: dubcon, literally dumbass porn, degradation + praising kink, daddy kink, gun play, mentions of alcohol consumption, dui and death, public sex, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, implied kidnapping

pairing: criminal!toji x f!reader

summary: dozing off in a parking lot seems dangerous but it seems like the right thing to do. that is, until a mysterious man taps on your window.

you shouldn’t have trusted yourself. you’ve vowed to yourself not to drink tonight, especially when you were driving to the city by yourself. maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt, you thought. but that one drink led you to another until you eventually found yourself light headed and could barely walk in a straight line let alone drive home.

so now you decide it’s best to just stop in a random parking lot and doze off for a couple of hours until you’re certain that you’re sober and ready to continue your journey back home. thankfully the lights are on and there are a few other empty cars in the lot, giving you somewhat a sense of security.

even though you aren’t completely sane at the moment, you make sure the doors are locked, turn off the engine and roll your windows down slightly to allow ventilation. if you could avoid a possible car crash, might as well avoid dying from inhaling some fatal gas. so you push back your seat and close your eyes to let sleep take you over.

but it isn’t for long until you hear a knock on the window.

startled and confused, you instantly get up thinking it would be one of the securities patrolling the area, telling you to scram but you’re only met with a rather handsome man, tall and brawny standing next to your car.

he leans down to your eye level and glares at you intimidatingly before he speaks, “get out.”

in such a panicky situation, your heavy cluttered brain doesn’t really tell you what to do nor what the hell is happening so you only stare back at him tongue tied, unable to properly gauge the situation thanks to both chemicals in your system and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“are you deaf?” he snarls with anger distorting his face.

the sharp eyes piercing through you coupled with the discernible scar on his lips go so well into his menacing demeanor and you’re aware he’s getting impatient. unsure of what to do, your hand reaches for your keys to turn on the engine, thinking it’s best to leave but he bangs on the window as if to tell you that isn’t what he wanted.

“i only told you to get out. so, get the fuck out. now.” toji waits for you to comply, but instead you just sit there frozen and he sighs in exasperation. “look, i have a fucking gun. and if you don’t do as i say, i won’t hesitate to shoot your brains off. you don’t need it anyway, right?”

toji fishes out his gun, waving it in front of you in warning. “and you’d be fucking dumb to think it isn’t loaded.”

the threatening sight of the firearm is finally what makes you unlock your doors and he immediately swings the door open and pulls you out from your vehicle by the wrist. toji eyes you up and down, taking a special interest in the mini skirt you don with a filthy smirk across his face. he peeks inside the car briefly, delighted over the fact that you’re all alone in the middle of the night– in some deserted parking lot, no less.

“where were you from?” he suddenly asks with less gruff in his tone. the eyes raking up and down your smaller frame so flagrantly makes you feel small and vulnerable.

you lick your lips to return moisture lost to parched skin as your eyes shift from his gun to his face. “a party.”

“a party, hm?” he does a double take on your whole skimpy outfit, sending a plethora of titillating thoughts to run in his head and waking up his primal instincts. he hasn’t gotten his dick wet for a while and opportunities don’t come by so easily when he’s a man on the run. he’d have to be an idiot to let this chance slip through his fingers.

“must’ve put a lot of thought on your outfit tonight. why don’t you give me a little twirl?”

toji deliberately taps the gun on the side of his thigh, reminding you what could happen if you either scream or run. getting the hint, you decide to entertain him, knowing well that you could end up with a bullet in any part of your body if you try to escape.

but do you oppose the idea of a sickeningly attractive man trying to check you out with a weapon in his hand? not really. if anything, the alarming nature of the affair only gives a delicious thrill to your already messed up nerves.

his predatory gaze is fixed on your voluptuous curves and the little sway of your hips as you gracelessly turn around in your heels, making blood rush straight down to his cock before telling you to stop.

“get in front of the car.” he urges.

“huh? why?”

toji cocks the loaded gun in front of you, his expression turning stern and serious once more. “no talking, just do it.”

you walk towards the front with the gun behind your head, careful not to miss your step until you’re facing your car.

“hands on the hood.” he demands, dark eyes silently watching you do as you’re told like a well-trained dog.

you’re certain he can see your ass cheeks peeking underneath the hem of your skirt as cold air hits your skin. the thought of a pair of eyes staring you down hungrily forms an anticipative knot to pull tightly in your stomach as your mind wonders about the dirty things he might and could do to you.

the next thing you feel is the cool metal of the barrel under your skirt, making you shudder as it caresses your puffy folds before dragging upwards to hike up the hem of your unbearably short skirt in favor of checking your panties but oh, what a delightful surprise– not a single thread underneath it all.

“no panties?” he bites back a groan when he notices the glistening slick coated around his black gun. “don’t tell me you’re getting off to this?”

“‘m not–” you deny meekly despite the blossoming heat between your thighs growing bigger when you feel the tip of the barrel against your drenched cunt again.

“don’t lie. you’re a little slut aren’t you? went to a party without your panties on– something tells me you’re an attention whore.” he mocks, poking the gun against your entrance only to observe your little squirms.

“not a slut!” you whine giddily as you spontaneously grind against the long barrel in seek of relief for the dull ache that has formed in your core.

“no? you’re gonna tell me you’re not jerking off to my gun right now?” he chastises with a satirical smile on his lips, feeling his cock harden even more from watching the way you’re eagerly rubbing against the gun he currently holds in his hand.

“i– i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you try not to let your words slur as you play coy, even when breaths are already hitching in your throat.

“oh yeah? ‘cause that cunt is positively leaking right now.” you whimper at his words, being bad and filthy never felt so good– especially to a man you don’t even know. “bet you want me to fill that needy cunt.”

“mhm!” you mewl, gyrating your hips even more salaciously once you manage to find an angle to rub your sensitive clit, sending waves of sensations to every fiber and nerve in your body.

“now that’s an honest little slut.” he coos with amusement lacing in his voice. “why don’t you beg for it?”

you tilt your head back towards him, bottom lip jutting out into a cute pout and eyes pleading. “please..?”

toji lets out a huff, “not good enough, sweetheart.”

your eyes narrow at him, hoping he can read the desperation in them as you call him in the softest mewl that you've used to numerous guys before. “daddy.”

“hmm?” he strokes your clit by rubbing the gun back and forth and watches you quiver with a lopsided grin across his face.

“w-want– need your cock, daddy.” you pant in a shameless expression of your need for him.

“what do you need daddy to do to you, pretty girl?” he studies the barrel, now smeared with your slick.

“need daddy to fuck me– fuck my little tight cunt.”

toji draws his gun away and raises it at the back of your head. “then, get on your knees.”

you don’t need to be told twice as you instantly turn around and face him, the gun now pointing directly to your forehead and follows you even until you’re already kneeled in front him.

“you went a little too fast there, didn’t you?” he chuckles, the sound is smoky and alluring. “so eager. now, take off my pants.”

your hand reaches up to unbuckle his belt and undo his button before pulling the zipper down and tugging off his pants and briefs hastily. your mouth waters at the sight; his thick cock is already throbbing, tip flushing red and leaking precum with a prominent vein on the underside – causing you to quickly disregard the life-threatening weapon in front of your head.

seeing you blatantly gawk at him causes pride to spiral in his chest, as if you’ve never seen a dick before. but is it bad for toji to assume that you've never seen a dick as big as his?

“getting nervous now?” he teases. “fuck that. put it inside your mouth.”

toji exhales sharply once your tongue carefully licks off the salty pre on the tip, rousing him further with only kitten licks until the barrel nudges your head in warning, forcing you to stop your ministrations.

“are you asking to get a hole through your head?” he scowls, showing apparent irritation.

“no.” you answer meekly.

“then? i told you to put it inside your fucking mouth.”

“‘m sorry, daddy.” you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and give it a few pumps up and down his shaft in hopes to please him and calm him down. “promise i’ll be a good girl.”

“then stop fucking around.”

without a second to waste, you wrap your lips around his cock and hollow your cheeks, squeezing and milking his cock with your tongue and throat as your head bobs up and down. you graze your tongue on the underside and slowly drag upwards, following the curve of his vein before giving a harsh suck on his tip, drawing out a loud groan from his throat.

“look at daddy.”

and you do, fixing your gaze with his darker ones as you slobber his cock with so much drool and you relax your throat in order to force yourself down to the base, devouring him whole even as he tilts the gun next to your head.

“wish i had my phone right now. you should see how you look.” his other hand reaches the top of your head, holding you in place and causes you to choke slightly before jerking his hips forward and begins to fuck your throat.

squelching noises resonate in the silent air, mingled with his grunts. drool starts to seep from the corners of your mouth and tears begin to well up in your eyes as his heavy balls slap against your chin.

“boys must really love you, hm?” you can feel the tension in his fingers as he puts monumental effort into restraining himself and he finally draws his gun away. “just taking it like a good girl.”

you can only whimper around his cock, the praise making you feel hotter that you find your hand between your thighs to push a finger inside your wet cunt.

“fuck– yeah, keep touching yourself like that.” he growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as the vibrations from your muffled moans are slowly sending him to the brink of an orgasm.

you’re too immersed by your own finger pumping in and out to even care about the ache that has formed on your jaw but the moment you feel his cock twitching, you both know it won’t be long until he breaks down.

“you’re gonna swallow all of it. got it?” he states more than questions, feeling his balls tightening as he starts to lose the last remaining control he owns.

you hum in response and flutter your eyes close and you wait until his hips still before he spurts thick ropes of cum down your throat, invading all your senses with the bitter taste of his load.

once he has emptied, you pull away with your tongue gliding along his length, not forgetting to lick off the sensitive slit to clean off any remnants.

“open your mouth.” he demands. you part your puffy lips and stick your tongue out, showing your obedience to his prior order and a delightful smirk makes its way on his face upon seeing that you’ve downed every drop of his cum. “good girl.”

“to be honest, i didn’t think you’d cum quickly.” you blurt out bluntly.

his brows furrow and his face contorts into a scowl. “‘fuck did you say?”

you shrug nonchalantly. you don’t know where it’s coming from either– the alcohol still lingering in your veins or the fact that you feel beyond proud that you’ve made him, some guy who claimed that he wanted to rob your car cum so fast. “well, all the guys told me i give the best head but none of them ever–”

“get up. face the car.”

toji clicks his tongue as you blink at him in confusion and he grabs your arm to pull you up on your feet before spinning you around and bending you down on the hood with his body pressing against your back. you swallow nervously when you feel a nudge against your ass, his dick is still hard despite the fact that he has cummed just a minute ago.

“you’re gonna regret that. once i fucking ravage that little cunt, you’re gonna be begging for me to cum quick.” he leans down to your ear as he threatens, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“i’m sor–”

“no. i won’t give a shit if it hurts you or when you cry for me to stop.”

toji gives a harsh smack on the plump flesh, making you jolt in surprise. with your hands down on the hood, he lifts up one of your knees on top of the car, causing you to spread wide open in an instant before he impatiently pokes the tip of his cock against your pulsating hole.

“but that’s what you want, right?”

your eyes roll back, lips parting in an appreciative squeal as you feel his fat cock stretches you out accompanied with a delicious burn when he sinks in deeper.

“mmh– s-so big–!”

“yeah? never had a dick this big before?” toji pulls out almost completely, eyes fixed on the cock glistening with your slick under the street lights, not missing the white cream attached onto the skin.

“n-no– ah–!”

toji cuts you off with one hard slam of his hips, drilling his cock into your tight pussy in a brutal pace while you keen and whimper as it brushes against your walls, each stretch and drag inside you so exquisite while deep crescent shapes of his nails form on your pliant skin as he holds you firmly by the hips for leverage.

“no wonder you’re so fucking tight. stupid boys didn’t know how to fuck you right.” his words thrum in a burst of heat as he growls in your ear, breaking through your every thought.

you tilt your head towards him with heavy lidded eyes and meet his lust addled gaze. your mouth is gaping in breathless moans, tongue slightly lolled out from your lips as you try to reach closer to his scarred lips, wanting to crash your lips onto his before it stretches into a devilish smirk and you feel warm liquid lands on your palate.

“you looked like you were begging to taste my spit.” he mocks. toji watches as you eagerly swallow it down your throat and he lets out a brittle chuckle. “dirty slut.”

your pussy flutters upon hearing how he degrades you, causing you to buck your hips wildly against him in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

“you liked that, didn’t you? i can feel you clamping down on me like a fucking whore.” he derides, fucking you harder and deeper until your world is reduced into nothing but the way he makes you feel completely stuffed and filled, the cockhead kissing your cervix with each deep strokes.

“please– make me cum, daddy–” you keen as pressure pulls taut in your lower stomach, the slick noises are so loud that the both of you can hear them even through your moans.

your body flushes against his, so close together and you can only focus on the sounds of flesh against flesh, the salacious rhythm making you more delirious.

“then, cum for me. let me feel you gush all over me.” toji brings his fingers to rub against your clit, easily tipping you over the edge by pressing tight circles until you find yourself crashing down with an orgasm exploding throughout your body.

“you want more?” he taunts, helping you ride out the aftershock by continuously rutting his hips into your cunt and not giving you the slightest chance to recuperate.

“ah– ‘s too much–” you whimper as soon as the pleasure begins to numb and you clutch onto his wrist tightly to try and pry his hand away from your sensitive clit.

“too much? don’t think that i’m done with you yet.”

toji finally draws away from you, but only turns you around to face him and effortlessly puts you on top of the hood with your elbows propping your weight. with his hands, he spreads and keeps your legs apart before sheathing his cock back inside your pulsing cunt again, completely mindless of your pathetic sobs. he lifts up your top, not surprised over the lack of bra underneath and he intently watches the way your tits bounce with each merciless pound of his cock.

“s-stop– please–” you whimper feebly as you try to shut your trembling legs together but he doesn’t budge and only keeps his grip on your thighs even tighter, stretching out your pussy for him wider.

“fucking take it.”

toji ignores your plea and his head dips low to your chest, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples and starts to flick it with his tongue coupled with harsh sucks until he pulls back with a pop and watches as the nipple stands erect before assaulting the other, swiftly sending sparks of pleasure down to the bundle of nerves.

“might as well keep you around. be my personal fucktoy. would you like that?” he grins up at you to see your jaw slacking, mouth falling in a wide ‘o’ as the burn down your core begins to cease.

“yesyesyes– make me your slut–!” your toes curl, making your heels drop down to the ground while your knuckles turn white from squeezing your hands into balled fists too hard.

“yeah? you’d do anything for a good fuck, huh?” he sneers at you, although he’s fascinated with your state of arousal.

“mhm– need daddy to fill me up with his cum–” your back rests against the car, reveling in the feeling of his cock abusing your swollen cunt like you’re nothing but a sex doll.

“but daddy’s not gonna cum yet. not even when you’re tightening around him like this.” toji slams your hips down closer to him, fucking into you deeper and harder with his heavy balls smacking your ass.

“t-too deep–! daddy, i’ll–” you babble, losing the ability to form cohesive words as you feel a strange knot twisting rapidly in your guts. the feeling is too intense and unbearable– the refined drags of his vein brushing against your spongy walls is anything but agonizing.

“come on. use your big girl words.” he drags out slowly and quickly pumps back into you ruthlessly. “or are you too dumb already?”

“i’m gonna–”

toji lifts up your legs over his shoulders as he leans down closer to you and he nips on your pulse point, causing your body to tense as your hands find home in his dark locks and tight shirt.

as soon as he lets go, your pupils are blown wide as pleasure washes throughout your body and you feel yourself gushing around the cock still buried inside you along with a broken moan from your lips. the release is oddly more relieving than your prior orgasm, making your body feel lighter as your mind ascends to a state of euphoria. you find yourself panting heavily as you squirt all over him, staining his black shirt with clear fluid and with some of it dribbling down to his thick thighs.

“making such a mess on daddy.” he groans as he feels your walls convulse around him rapidly, milking his cock dry and slowly dragging him down to his own high for the second time of the night.

you can only look at him in a cockdaze with no particular thoughts running inside your head, each one formed gone like popping bubbles. your eyes glued onto every bit of his features; the brows furrowed in concentration, the lips parting in grunts, the damp matted hair against his forehead and you drink the sight of it all even when you’re not sure if you’ll remember it all the next morning.

“fuck– it’d be a shame to not cum inside this pretty cunt, right?” his thrusts turn sporadic, dick twitching as a telltale of his pending orgasm that’s soon to crash down over him. he didn’t need to hear your answer as he ruts into you faster, hips stuttering out of control before a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he shoots hot ropes of cum, flooding into your womb and stuffing you full with his seed.

and once he lets go of your legs you can feel your whole body sore all over, but you can’t bring yourself to care nor whatever is going to happen after this when the man in front of you has given you what you truly wanted and made you feel satiated like you’ve never felt before.

toji pulls out his spent cock and runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out body, still splayed on top of the hood with his cum dribbling out from your pussy.

he presses your cheeks together with one hand and forces you to look at him, even as your lids are getting heavy to lift.

“i was serious about you being my fucktoy– and stealing your car.” he cackles. “so, do you wanna be in the back seat or do you prefer the trunk?”

enjoyed this work? wanna buy me coffee? :)

#toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji smut #jujutsuhub collab #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw; dubcon #tw; kidnapping

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stansethandpaul · 3 years ago

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Jealousy Jealousy (rewrite)

Angst -> Fluff: Embry Call x GN!reader

Summary: Embry gives y/n a slap in the face about reality after they constantly sulk about Bella.

A/N: I'm much more content with this one and I actually might end up deleting the other one, sorry about that. I actually took a lot more time editing this and didn't write this when I was burnt out compared to the other one! I'm just overall way happier with the other one because I knew that the other one wasn't my true capability.

warnings: angst (that's all I could really think of tell me if you see anything else!)

Masterlist

Ding!

Constant notifications vibrated Jacob's phone as we sat on his couch together watching the movie on the screen. I shot him a look of annoyance, signaling him to check his phone which he did swiftly. His eyes shot open in surprise before he shot up from the couch and throwing on a shirt and shoes, hopping out the door as he attempted to put the last shoe on.

"Sorry y/n! Bella just told me she was free, you know what it's been like for her!" He hastily shouted out before sprinting down the gravel driveway.

"Bye!" I shouted back, trying to hide my disappointment.

I grimaced at the situation. On one hand, I knew how the sudden disappearance of the Cullens devastated her, especially Edward's sudden abandonment but this happened way too many times. But on the other, Jacob was like her puppy dog now, it was like I wasn't even his friend anymore, it was like our friendship meant nothing.

Knowing that Jacob wouldn't be back anytime soon, I got my stuff and locked the door behind me before driving over to Emily's place to surround myself in the livelier company.

"Sup y/n! Missed me didn't ya!" Jared boomed as I opened the door to which I replied with a "you wish". I chuckled at his dramatic pain as he pretended to hold his heart, eyes shut and face contorting.

"Know where Embry is?" Questioning the dramatic boy as I peered around the room to see if I could find any trace of the lanky boy, no luck.

"Finding your loverboy huh? With the deepest of regrets, I must inform you that he was put on patrol today." He said, mocking my curiosity over Embry's whereabouts. I stuck my tongue out at him to tease him before flipping him off and leaving to the porch to await Embry.

"Knock it off Paul, it's not what you think"

"yeah sure, and if it wasn't what I HEARD THROUGH THE MINDLINK then I don't know what else it could have been"

Their voices permeated through the thick fog as their silhouettes came into view, Paul's muscly tall physique was seen locking an arm around Embry's tall lanky but lean body.

"Aw buzz off Paul," Embry said as he struggled to get Paul's arm off of his neck. He laughed at his struggle before letting go as he noticed me, shooting Embry a smirk to which a slight blush came onto his face, only noticeable as they got closer. Odd.

"Sup Paul," I smirked at him before turning my attention over to Embry.

"And hello to you too wolf boy," teasing him to which he shot a glare at me before attempting to stifle his laughs.

Paul said a prompt bye before jogging into the house to fill up his appetite whilst Embry sat down next to me, his body warmth radiating. The cold air nipped at my skin, pushing me to get closer to the much warmer boy as I swung my legs into his lap and resting my head on his shoulder.

"Jacob left again?"

A sigh left my mouth at his obvious question.

Closing my eyes promptly, I answered with a short nod. A response that showed my true feelings after all these times of being blown off by Jacob.

We sat in silence, my eyes closed as I felt his shoulders move up and down in a rhythmic motion, lulling me to sleep almost. The deafening quiet seemed to almost suffocate us before I decided to talk.

"I don't know what to do anymore Embry, I'm always there for him when he needs me but, he runs to her at the drop of a hat or more like a single text message," I grumbled, reminiscing about the times Jacob's left me in the dust for Bella, excuses sprouting up.

"Why does everyone in this town seem to be so infatuated with her," expecting no response I kept going.

"Is it because she's Charlie's daughter? Hell if I was his child Jacob would be all over me too right? I'd be the hot topic of town too, people staring at me wherever I go, being suddenly accepted by the Cullen family and Jacob. I'd really have the best of both worlds wouldn't I?" Scowling at my own questions, I turned to Embry for answers.

"Am I not right?"

Silence.

"Helloooooooo, Earth to Embry?" I said, poking his cheeks with my finger. His brows seemed to be furrowed together, eyes lost in thought, his attention elsewhere.

There seemed to be no response from him to which I huffed and turned back to stare at the fog rolling in.

Closing my eyes to embrace the serenity once more, his lulling voice startled me.

“I don’t think it’s true.”

I turned my head towards him, curiosity piqued by his response.

“Let’s be real Embry, I’d have the best time of my life if I was Bella fucking Swan. Every guy would love me, all the attention would be on me and I wouldn’t be a second option again. Hell, I’d even be able to actually confess to my crush without fearing rejection.” Bitterness laced the last sentence as I satirically spoke my mind. Looking at Embry’s hands and wishing they were embracing mine, the sudden gesture of his fist clenching as his knuckles turned white shocked me, he was mad.

“God y/n, why the hell do you always need to compare yourself to Bella? She hasn’t even done anything to you. It’s always Bella this Bella that if I was her blah blah blah. Get over yourself, you’re not her and you won’t ever be. Learn how to appreciate yourself and live YOUR life and stop moping around. So what Jacob runs to Bella each time, you have Jared, Emily, Paul, and everyone else.”

A long silence suspended in the air.

“You have me and you come running, you never see the other people around you cause you’re too busy complaining. You can’t even see how much I love you cause you’re so stuck up about being Bella and being Jacob’s priority aren’t you?” Finishing his sentence, he proceeded to get up before walking away. Stopping before reaching the woods, his back faced to me, he spoke simply.

“Find me when you can learn to be y/n and not Bella.”

His form morphed before running into the woods on all fours, leaving me stunned. After a brief moment, tears flooded my eyes. I never got to tell him that I do like him, I never got to tell him that I just want his attention, I just wanted him.

Thoughts spiraled in my head, I was jealous of Bella for sure but I was jealous because of the attention she was given. I just wanted Embry to treat me like she was treated, I wanted to be special to him.

I ran home, I ran because I was scared. I was scared I wouldn't be able to look at him properly.

Weeks passed as we ceased to talk, and I ceased to exist in the small town of Forks. Or so I thought.

I groaned as heavy knocks assaulted my front door, I picked up the phone looking at the time. Who the hell shows up at someone's house at 4am?

Throwing on a sweater and sweats, I dragged myself to the front door, the cold hardwood floor seemingly repelling me from ever making any progress. I swung the door open, grumbling as my eyes were half open wondering who it was.

Jacob Black.

Mentally sighing, I invited him inside from the pouring rain, he seemed devastated.

He sat down after he changed as I made him some hot chocolate to comfort him.

"She chose him y/n, he came back and she chose him over me. She drove to Italy for that stupid bloodsucker." His cracking voice was more than enough for me to grasp his frustration and devastation.

"I dropped everything for her, I did everything for her y/n. And she still chose the guy that skipped town huh?" Laughing bitterly at the situation, I stared at his cup before handing it to him.

"Maybe if I was better than Edward I would've won this stupid fucking battle," his words escaping his clenched teeth. He was like me, we were jealous of someone, someone that seemed to win everything, someone that we were not. The words spoken to me by Embry were words I carried with me even as I was moping over the whole situation.

"Stop comparing yourself to him, Jacob. You're not Edward and you won't ever be him. You're so insistent on being better than Edward or being Edward that you can't even see what's in front of you. I was always here for you Jake, I was always here but you treated me like I was a second option. You left me in a heartbeat for her but you never had time to spend with me, not even five minutes, when you were with her," I too chuckled bitterly at the ironic situation, me and Jacob were similar in many ways.

"Learn to live your life, don't live it for her or because of her, learn how to live it like you want." Those words seemed to resonate deep within both of us. After finally speaking those words, I realized that I was ready to live my life as y/n, a citizen of the small city of Forks, and not vying to be Bella, the new girl to forks.

I stood up, putting on shoes hastily before grabbing the handle. I could sense Jacob's attempt to stop me and apologize for his treatment but I knew better.

"It's ok, I know you're gonna apologize. I'm not going to accept, I want the Jake that will care and treat everyone with the same importance that you had for Bella. Come to me when you're ready, but until then I hope you grow and learn how to live your life."

I paused again, one foot out of the door.

"I have someone important to apologize to, someone that didn't leave me in the blink of an eye."

I hurriedly shut the door behind me before running to the woods, my lungs burning and legs aching as I forced myself to my limit. I ran and ran, visions of the houses slowly turned to trees, the crunching leaves under my feet reminded me of the days we would all run through the woods.

My breathing became labored as I was reaching my breaking point but it was close, our place was close. Then, in my distant vision, I could see it. That one pine tree, seemingly normal to many, but to me, it held our memories. The initials only reassured my assumption as I knew that he would be here waiting. As I got closer to the tree, my legs gave out under me, sending me tumbling to the ground whilst tree branches scratched my arms and ripped a hole in my pants.

"EMBRY! EMBRY I'M HERE PLEASE!" I shouted into the dark forest, eyes tearing up once more as I pleaded.

"I LOVE YOU EMBRY CALL AND I'M SORRY I WAS TOO BLIND TO REALIZE IT!" I shouted once more before crumpling closer to the ground, my tears now fully flowing and hitting the dead leaves below.

Maybe I took too long, maybe he moved on, maybe I was too jealous of someone to even realize his love.

As sobs continued throughout my body, the hope of him ever coming was diminishing.

I was too late.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of strong but warm arms wrap around my waist and pulling me up.

"Shhh, it's ok I'm here now."

That voice, I looked up to see Embry's face which held a dorky grin. I threw my arms around him as sobs still left my body, the emotional rollercoaster was far too much for me to handle.

"I-i'm s-s-so sorry Embry, I was too focused on trying to be Bella that I-"

"I know, I know, I heard it all," shushing me as he rubbed circles on my back consoling me. After what felt like hours in his embrace, I finally calmed down and only tear stains remained.

I finally lifted my head to meet his eyes properly this time, he stared back with tender eyes.

"You finally learned how to live for you huh?" He asked, not expecting an answer to which I was oblivious.

Before I could respond, he pressed his lips to mine. I didn't try and fight it and melted into it instead.

I was blind to be jealous of Bella when I already had something that she fought to keep.

Smiling mentally, I wrapped my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

Taglist: @krispypotato @therandomficwriter @crackheadenergy101 @cole22ann @uraveragegorewhore @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @theonlyabby02 @lendeluxe @sassybadqueen @myflicker @junitorials13 @leahishotclearwater @pillowjj @mangobubblet3a @fuzzy-panda @beautiful-1nsanity @asprinkleoffaithandtrust @remembered-license @gutflorizt @sassybadqueen @britty443 @tsukkiswifeey @uraveragegorewhore @blackqueens01 @asprinkleoffaithandtrust @remembered-license @alwayshave-faith @nichia88-blog

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jamiedc-they-them · 4 years ago

Text

Being the SHIELD ladies’ best friend would include:

DAISY

You meet her when she is named Skye.

There is, almost, an innocence to her. One that you want to help keep for as long as you can. So, you play the better cop, not being too aggressive to her. Your kind.

She looks at you without the hardened, protective gaze. It almost softens a little at you.

Seems the term fast friends just got an upgrade

As you go on the mission to get Mike, you go with her to the van. Sadly, to be knocked out.

As Mike orders her to drive, she asks him, “Y/N is ok, right?”

Mike is perplexed but assures her you’re ok.

When you find her at the station, you are quick to intervene and protect her.

When the whole situation is delt with, you go with her and Coulson to make sure Ace is ok.

She then pulls you aside when you arrive to the hanger: “Can you…can you help me unpack the van?”

You accept. Wanting to make her entrance to this crazy, crazy world of SHIELD as seamless as possible.

You give her a sad smile when she calls the van ‘home’.

Fitzsimmons get her to her room, but you visit her, making sure she is ok.

As you go on about more and more missions, you both just seem to act like you’ve been best friends for years.

You can tell by the how attached to you she gets, that she’s always wanted a best friend.

So, you’re damn sure you’re going to make sure you’re the best one she can ask for.

It’s small gestures from both sides that make it unique; checking up on each other after training, sitting on the sofa in the living area together, not even talking, just in each others company; if one of you has a bad day, the other will check up on them.

She’s just as committed to the friendship as you are.

You get hurt on a mission one time, and she sits by you, pretty much blowing off training to stay by your side as you recover.

Ward, in any other situation, would be pissed, but he lets it slide.

She gets you anything you need for recovery, even doing extra training to make sure it doesn’t happen to you again.

“Y/N wouldn’t of been hurt if I had been there to have their back.”

“Skye, it wasn’t your –”

“I know, Ward. It just – it sucks. Seeing someone you care about get hurt like that. I’m done with that.”

So, she pushes herself more and more.

You do get better. And the first thing she does is tackle you in a hug (like, as strong as the one she gave Jemma when she nearly died).

Then you find out why she joined SHIELD, to find more about her family.

You don’t say anything when she leaves Coulson’s office, just sit with her.

She holds your hand for support, and you just give it a squeeze. A silent “I’m here.”

After that day, she trusts you completely. With everything she’s got.

She makes a decision then and there, that you the sibling she’s never had.

Before you ever go off on a mission, she’s always there to see you off. She hugs you tight, just asking for you to be careful and make it back safe.

And when you do return, she hugs you just as tightly. In fact, she’s most likely waiting for you.

Then she gets hurt. She’s near death thanks to Ian Quinn.

The whole time, you don’t really register anything. You are almost on autopilot.

You don’t really remember anything; just finding her and then being in the room with Quinn and beating him senseless.

You go on the raid to save her, to find what can save her, and you’re ruthless.

When you get it and she’s deemed safe, by Jemma, you are sat by her side.

The tables are reversed, and you are covered in blood that isn’t your own, but you don’t care.

Coulson, however, does make you clean yourself up. If not for yourself, than for Skye.

When she wakes, you’re asleep by her side.

She smiles, both at your adorably, vulnerable state, and about how you stayed with her.

She grabs your hand that is on the railing, knowing that you are tactile. With hugs, and what not.

It wakes you up, but you calm down once you see it’s her.

You sit for hours, talking and catching up. You smile so big; your best friend is back alive.

You see how she throws herself into training more and more now.

You both seem to; both out of a general want to be better as an agent, but also to fight better together when it comes to that time.

It just so happens, that she is able to beat you in one of your fights. And you are so damn proud of her.

When Skye gets her badge, you hang back, waiting until it is just the two of you.

You hug her. It’s silent, but there are no words needed.

Then SHIELD collapses.

You’re separated from her when it happens; she goes with Ward, you go with Coulson and the others.

You get a bit banged up in the fight, but make it out.

She approaches you, worry in her eyes as to what is going on and how you are handling it.

After all, you’re whole world has just gone up in flames.

You are tearful in this moment, and she wraps her arms around you, just holding you tight.

The roles are almost flipped at this point.

Now, she is the one who keeps an extra eye on you.

She see’s that you’re repressing some of this, taking out other parts of it on the team and HYDRA.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She tells you when she takes your badge.

“It’s not your fault, Skye.”

“I know. But, we’re gonna fix it.” She assures you. And there is a firmness in her tone. One that you so desperately want to believe.

As the others go out on the mission to find the escape convicts, you stay with Skye.

Actually, it’s more by her own insistence.

“Y/N is one of my best agents, Skye.” Coulson says.

“I understand that, sir. But…they need a break.” She argues.

Coulson admits the point she has, and so orders you to stay.

That, however, gets you stabbed by Grant Ward.

He leaves you for dead, but does tell you he has left you with a chance.

When Skye finds Eric, her next thought is you. Especially after seeing the message Fitz leaves behind.

However, before she can get to you, she sees Ward.

“W-Where’s Y/N?” She asks, trying to stop the tremor in her voice.

“They’re fine. They said they’d hold down the fort while we go.” Ward says.

She goes to say more, but knows that it’ll raise suspicion.

She leaves with him, but her worry for you only continues as they take off and leave.

Ward then comes clean, in a slip up.

“And Y/N?”

“I gave them a chance, Skye! What they do with it is up to them!” He roars, but then realises his mistake.

“—What?” She asks, shocked.

“I—I did what I had to do. But, I gave them a chance. Me and them? We’re survivors. It’s what we do.” He’s saying it to make himself believe it.

When she gets away and goes to the motel, Jemma tells her where you are.

She goes to your room, seeing you sat on your bed.

She doesn’t know whether to run and hug you, or just sit next to you.

She sits next to you, looking at the wound he has left behind.

If you were spiraling before, this would be the climax of that.

She sees how shattered you are. How much this has worn you out.

So, she does the only thing she can, she grabs your hand and stays with you.

You know you are on your own know with taking HYDRA down. But, you have each other.

When it comes to the endgame, you are with her. And you both confront Ward, together.

“Y/N, I mean it when I say this, it’s good to see you.” Ward says, with some scincerity in his voice.

“You don’t get to say that to them. You just look at me, Ward.” Skye spits, putting herself in front of you more as a shield (ha).

Ward is almost impressed. But, you knew she would make a good agent.

Now you were together, SHIELD partners.

You both get Ace out together.

As time goes in, Skye see’s a difference in you.

You’ve become more determined. You’ve almost become a shell of who you were.

You throw yourself into work more. You don’t talk as much. You’re almost dead serious now.

Skye, knowing that confronting you won’t work, does other things to show her support for you:

Be that leaving food outside your room, staying up late to make sure you’re ok, radioing you when available for a talk (or sometimes so she can vent about something and just have you listen).

She starts to get you out of that shell a bit, with going on missions with you and keeping an eye on you.

Then she meets her father, and now she has a choice: SHIELD or her father.

When She confronts Raina, you run into the tomb with Tripp.

It becomes his. But you’re lucky.

She has the player to push away with her Quaking, you pull things towards yourself.

You both get taken to the home in the middle of nowhere.

It gives you time to both get used to your powers and also get your friendship back to where it was.

And it works. It’s peaceful.

That is, until Gordan others you a place to be. And SHIELD come after for you both.

You both fight a different agent, but you’re in sync like no others. You both slam the bodies of your opponents against each other.

When the bullet goes off and she Quakes it away, she puts herself in front of you to do it, making sure it doesn’t effect you.

When she meets her mother, she swears you to secrecy and lets you know.

You promise to keep it between yourself and her.

It’s on this day that a special event occurs in your friendship.

She takes you to see her parents. At first, they think it might be a dating scenario. But she’s quick to shoot it down:

“This is Y/N…They’re pretty much my sibling.”

You get teary eyed at the admission

However, her parents (while at first, taken aback) seem to welcome you in just fine.

Now, it’s not just her caught between these people who are like the two of you, and those at home that you love.

Her parents make extra effort with you, putting in the work to get to know you.

And, in telling you Skye’s true name of Daisy, it seems the trust has been successfully found with them.

She’s ecstatic when she hears about it.

Then you go to get Lincoln back, someone who has become a friend to you.

And, like clockwork, you’re both in sync, now with your powers in the mix. You’re an unstoppable force.

However, like a rhyme, your world comes crashing down again. This time, apprantly from those you loved back at home.

It’s a mess, with certain agents wanting to take you down, and others wanting to take you in with ICERS.

Daisy Quake’s a bullet back to a agent, not even caring if it’s a kill shot.

When it comes to May, it’s a team up. And, while the woman holds her own, you both take her down.

When you’re taken in and her mother reveals her true plan, Daisy and you know you have to stop it.

So, you team up against the clones; you split them up.

As May pushes Daisy to go for her mother, you give her the nod that tells her to go.

After it’s all done, you embrace her, knowing she has now lost her two parents.

However, she shows you the plan Coulson has for the team of Inhumans:

“I want you as my second in command. Just in case something happens to me. I need you by my side, Y/N. You’re my sibling, not by blood, but by choice, and that means something to me.”

“It means a hell of a lot to me too, Dais. You need me there, I’ll be there. All the way.”

And so, you gain a third SHIELD partner of Mack, who plays big brother to you both.

It’s nice; having this family unit.

Of course, you and Daisy are as efficient as ever. If not more.

You’ve both now had time to hone your abilities and so you both kick more arse with them.

Mack swears you two have telepathy or something. With the way you both seem to know what the other will do without any verbal need to express them before hand.

However, he loves that you both have that gift, and does find it extremely useful in the field.

As Daisy holds the portal open for Fitz, when he jumps into it, you use your power to hold everything else in place.

It nearly kills you both, something Coulson scolds you for. But, it means getting Jemma out.

You both, when being questioned by Coulson, try to comfort him.

As much as he is war mode, he makes a note of the similarities that are eery with you both.

Again, when it comes to the portal, despite how you might actually die this time, you both stay.

You’re partners, to the end.

Of course, you all get out.

It’s not long before that team you’ve been working towards is activated.

Despite some slip ups, you all get through it. With Daisy going one way, you another.

As the rest of the team leaves, Daisy pulls you aside:

“Good team, huh?”

“Gotta admit, they aren’t bad.”

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. And, thanks for having my back.”

“Of course, Daisy. Where you go, I go, right?” She nods.

“Where you go, I go.”

….Then, Hive happens.

You feel the shakes, quickly darting out of your room.

However, it’s Mack who stops you, proclaiming that you’d only get yourself killed.

You, like Coulson, are desperate for anything that can get her back.

When out, chasing a lead, you run into her.

It’s a grizzly fight. It’s not SHIELD approved at all. It’s almost like a street fight with the moves.

It’s not clean. It’s filled with emotion; hate, love, worry.

In the end, she pins you down:

“Stay out of this, Y/N. I’ve told him to leave you alone for now. But, don’t push it. I’m only trying to help you!”

“By pinning me to the ground?”

“By keeping you alive. I’m not losing you, Y/N.”

When she hurts Mack, you desperately try to make yourself not be mad at her.

Hell, even Jemma talks to you about it.

“It’s ok if you are angry, Y/N. She’s my friend too, but…It’s ok to be hurt by this.”

And so, you let yourself be.

You let yourself feel the pain of losing your best friend; your sister in all but blood.

Then she’s back and it’s…different.

She’s drained. It’s almost like seeing how you were after SHIELD fell.

You know that seeing her would do no good for her, so you keep your distance.

You show your support mainly through bringing food.

It’s the small gestures that count.

When it comes to the final fight, you have to hold her back when she goes to stop Lincoln.

She fights against you, but finally tires herself out and instead runs for the radio.

You can only watch as your best friend breaks down completely.

You do, later, in private. At all you’ve been through in the short few years after meeting her.

However, if leaving her to her own devices caused this, you are going to fix that.

So, when she goes to get into her van, she pauses when she see’s you in the driver’s seat:

“What the hell?” She’s angry.

“You really think I’d let you do this alone?”

“I’m not letting you get hurt by another one of my mistakes –”

“I already am hurt by all this, Daisy. I shouldn’t have let you alone.”

So, you both become two majorly depressed, borderline suicidal friends that either ignore your pain or use it to fuel yourself.

You both hurt from one majorly similar thing, and a different thing;

For you, it’s not blame for not doing enough; for Daisy, the team, and Lincoln.

For Daisy, it’s causing you and the rest that pain.

There’s an unwritten rule; don’t talk about it.

There’s not a lot of chatter, unless it’s about whatever “op” you’re running.

Most of the time, one of you ends up with some bad scrape.

But, you both keep pushing.

You need to stop the watch dogs, and yourselves.

When Jemma finds you both bleeding in her new house, she’s both shocked and hurt:

“Six months of nothing, and this is our hello?”

One thing she can clearly see is that you both are not in good headspaces, at all.

She told you to let yourself be hurt and feel it; she just wasn’t aware of how much hurt there truly was.

However, she has a sneaking suspicion that Daisy does know.

She teams up with you, despite knowing the damage you two are willing to put yourselves in.

When you get outed, you and Daisy share a look. You then look to Jemma, who gets ready.

As Daisy slams her hand into the floor, pushing them away, you hold out your hand and slam a few into the ground.

That is your signature move, in a way.

As you are both forced back to SHIELD, you both still only really fully trust each other. Or, rather, let yourself be around the other.

You both still push away help, despite advising the other not to do that. Ironic.

You both share a room now. Both seem to be only interested in wallowing in your darkness together.

However, as time goes on, things start to look up for you and your best friend:

You get reinstated, you get to argue your case, and you go back into the fold again.

You both also, kind of, starting asking for help when it’s desperately needed.

Granted, it’s normally motivated by one or the other being in that type of need, but still.

It’s progress

Then you, her, and Jemma all get plugged into the framework.

It’s a whole other ball game.

You died in this life, like Jemma.

In fact, that’s how Daisy finds you both, having both been in the same grave.

Her heart stopped when she saw you both were dead.

Two siblings to her, both gone, apparently.

But, you were both alive and well and came together as your own trio.

When she used to with you well on your missions for SHIELD, you do the same when she goes undercover at HYDRA.

It’s odd, as Jemma later tells you, how you both seem to constantly flip between who does things like that in your friendship.

You see that Ward is back, and this time a genuine one.

This one even apologises for what the real him did. So, that’s a bonus.

She forces him to know, but this is before she see’s he’s a good guy. It’s actually one of the things that helps her realise it

Then comes space. Jesus, space.

Kasius uses you, like Jemma, as motivation for Daisy.

And it works like a charm.

She fights, putting herself through hell just for the chance of you both making it out alive.

When it comes to the escape, you use your power to drag her opponent away from her so you can deliver a blow to the woman.

You take over for Daisy in the fight.

However, when you’re knocked down, Daisy Quakes her away.

No one fucks with her family.

When she finds out what happened to the earth, she gets told something that makes her freeze:

“Y/N Johnson was never there.”

She keeps this from you, giving you glances whenever you aren’t looking.

It’s one of the reasons she tries to give herself up.

Back on earth, she’s more cautious, yet overly protective of you.

She tries to keep you back at base as much as she can.

She always tries to play it off as needing your help with the tech (which she does fine useful), but you can tell something else is going on.

You confront on it the day before the event:

“Daisy, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, keeping me here all the time, cooped up?”

“I—I’m not.”

“You know this whole, ‘read you like a book’ thing goes two ways, right?”

You’ve got her there, “…I….” She tears up, just thinking about it.

“Just say it.” You prod, your own eyes welling up as a reaction.

She takes a moment to gulp, to prepare herself, “…I destroy the world…and no one hears from you…no one hears from you before it, or after.”

There, it’s out now.

Your breath leaves you; both at the weight of it, but also how she kept it from you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry –” She goes out to try and comfort you, but you push the hand away in anger.

“You don’t get to do that, Daisy! You don’t get to chose what I should know, and what I shouldn’t!”

“I had to protect you!” She exclaims, desperate for your to see her side of things.

“You’ve done the complete opposite.” You sneer, walking away. Your tears start dropping, as do hers.

Then, the big one occurs.

While Daisy is tortured by Fitz, you are confronted by a darker version of your best friend.

“You know she just gave you that name because she feels sorry for you. You know that, right?”

You shake your head, “That’s not true.”

“Let me guess, ‘That’s not true, that’s impossible?’ Oh, it is very possible, Y/N.”

After the encounter you have (it ends in you having to put her down), there’s a shift.

Daisy becomes more of a hard-ass leader. And you fold into yourself. Your insecurities getting to you.

It leads to you and Daisy butting heads more and more.

It never gets physical, it just gets loud.

The team have to watch as you both pretty much just yell and – at some points – tear each other to shreds.

You’re both angry; you’re both scared; you’re both tired.

However, as you all get ready to confront Talbot, she knocks on your door:

“I know this won’t make up for everything, but I am so, so, so sorry for the things I said…I know I should’ve – I should’ve done something. Especially with what bitch-me said.”

“We both said shit we want to take back. You’re right, it ain’t gonna fix it. But…I’m willing to try if you are.”

Her answer is a hug, one that seems to be the tightest and longest one you’ve shared.

After that, you both start to get to where you were.

In space, there are things that pull you back together. Be that:

Sitting together and looking at the universe,

Getting hurt on a mission and helping the other recover,

Just talking for the sake of it and for comfort.

You slowly get back to being the very tight nit friends you were.

However, despite the small gap there is at this time, one thing is for certain;

She will always have your back, just as you have her’s.

You maybe not be where your dynamic was, but you still love and care for each other.

That was never on the card for either of you: quitting the friendship.

You’ve been through too much shit to let some words pull you apart.

You take the puffs, just like herself and Jemma.

You all…well, you all cause anarchy.

When the guards appear, you and Daisy – surprisingly – do a not too bad job.

Even if she tries to warn you right as you get it (it’s the thought that counts)

You are both confronted with someone that used to be a father figure to you both. And it throws you both for a loop.

Daisy walks out, and you are quick to follow; A) to check on her; and B) Because it freaks you out too.

You both try to avoid the elephant in the room, but you both soon find yourself on the truck together with May.

It’s not idea, but you’d rather go through this weird ass shit together than be apart for it.

After May’s ‘demise’ you now have that to deal with. Along with Coulson coming back.

It’s like you have swapped one parental figure for another.

You both help each other in picking out period specific clothing before exploring said period.

You both end up in the time loop, with you being tested on as well.

It’s a …weird time.

But, it leads to a lot of moments of you looking at each other in exasperation while trying to save the rest of your friends – family.

Then Kora comes around, and it’s a shock to you both.

But, you let Daisy rant as she see’s her mother and now sister for the first time.

She appreciates it hugely.

In the final battle with Malick, it’s Daisy vs Him. It’s something she has to beg to let you do.

“Daisy –”

“Y/N, I need you to trust me here. I need to do this, alright? No, keep Danny boy alive for me, alright?”

Oh, you bet your ass you teased her for her crush on Danny.

You even gave him the “don’t hurt my bestie” speech.

He did take it seriously, comically so.

Even did a scouts honour type thing.

Daisy gets tossed around a bit by him, with your power.

“Being killed by your best friend, must suck, huh?” He taunts her as she gets up.

When he has her where he wanted her, he leaned in close:

“After I’m done with you, I’m gonna make sure Y/N gets a taste of their own medicine. And, I want you to die, knowing that your ability is going to be the thing that kills your best friend.”

“Not…If…I…Have…Anything…To…Say…About it.” She says, before she releasing all the energy she has in one massive shock wave.

When Kora saves Daisy, it gets her in your good books.

You stay with Daisy, becoming a family unit with the three.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

And neither would she.

JEMMA

You meet Jemma when you are both young, in Primary school.

You become friends quite quick.

She’s the scientist, you’re the creative one whose more…let’s say aggressive.

You’re protective of her (not that she isn’t of you, as she is), but you’re more of the physical kind.

If someone even looks at her wrong, you’re there.

“Problem?” You’d ask them.

As the time goes on, that does get you in trouble.

She, however, waits for you whenever it lands you in that trouble.

“For goodness sake, Y/N, you’re going to get expelled at this point.” She chastises you as you leave the detention.

“Let them.”

“I’m not going to bloody let them do this. You deserve this chance, Y/N. Just…use it. For me, please.”

You are protective physically, she is in a more emotional sense.

After that day, you do try.

You both join SHIELD, just in different places; her with Science, you with the SHIELD Ops.

However, you both make sure to not lose communication. You call whenever you can.

When Coulson is recruiting for the team, he goes to you first, and that is how he just knows that Fitzsimmons will fit right in.

Oh, you know Fitz. You’ve both heard of him to no end, and also met the guy. You like him.

“Agent Y/N is one of the most promising agents, they talked highly of you, agent Simmons.” He tells her when they meet with Coulson.

“Oh, well, if it was the other way around –” She says bashfully.

“You would’ve done it too. They said that.”

It’s how you both reunite fully.

It’s a long hug, one of pure joy.

“Isn’t this exciting, Y/N? We get to be together again. You, me, and Fitz!” She’s giddy. And you can’t help but go with it.

She’s infectious.

When Skye joins, she comes to you, feeling that you are the most “normal” out of the trio.

“So, what’s their deal?”

“What do you mean?” You ask her.

“Like…are they a thing, or…?”

“As far as I know, not a thing.”

“You don’t think they should be?”

“I think Simmons will do what she thinks best for herself. I get it, though. But…I’m not gonna force her.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“She taught me how to be a good one.” Your words are honest.

Jemma always tries to keep you around when she can; be that by playing board games with you; long chats in the evening (normally with beer); or just keeping you in the lab.

She just likes having you around. It’s a comforting presence, like Fitz.

It’s normal, to her. The one thing that is in a world filled with things that aren’t normal.

With you being a field agent, you go out on the jobs.

She always worries about you.

“Please be careful?” She asks, handing you a bag with a sandwich in.

Yours isn’t as special as Fitz’s, but she still makes sure to make sure it is perfect.

You always appreciate her innocence. It’s something you want to protect.

She’s always able to see the good. You the more darker side.

It’s a balance.

You are almost in tears when she is dying from the Chitari helmet.

As everyone leaves, you stay.

“Y/N –”

“I’m not leaving.” You declare.

“Y/N, please. I don’t want the last thing you see of me being –”

“I’m not leaving, Jem.” You place your hand on the glass.

She does the same action.

When she comes back from the fall, you hug her, tightly.

“I’m here. I’m ok.” She assures you, softly whispering it in your ear.

As said, she was always better at dealing with emotional needs for other than you are.

If you do get hurt, she patches you up, but does barrate you, like she used to do in school.

“I was slow, Jem.”

“I’m not blaming you for getting hurt, I’m just saddened that you did.”

“I know, but I’m going to be. But…you’ll always be here to patch me up, right?”

She stops what she’s doing, and meets your eyes, “Always.” She promises you.

Being friends for so long and being through so much, Jemma can read you like a book.

And she can always tell when your insecurities are getting to you. Or you are anxious about a situation.

She’s sutble with her gestures:

A hand squeeze, or a hand on a knee if you’re sat at a table,

An excuse to get you out.

That sort of thing.

She loves you dearly, and just wants you to be ok.

She knows that, with the mental things, she can’t fix it.

And, she’d never tell you, but it frustrates her that she can’t.

However, she still stands by you.

You lash out at her when in an episode? She can take it. Hurt? A little, but she knows you don’t mean it.

You stay in all day? She alerts Coulson (Who takes this stuff seriously) and normally tries to spend as much time as she can with you.

She wants you to know that she’s there and that she loves you.

When the fall of SHIELD occurs, she pulls you and Fitz into a bear hug.

She see’s you’ve been hit in defending Fitz, and worries constantly about you.

“Let me look, Y/N.” She tries, but she knows how you are.

“I’m fine, Jemma.” You insist.

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Jemma. I’m ok, seriously. We need to clear the –”

“Y/N,” Her tone is firm, “I’m going to take you to the lab, and we’re going to look at your wound, do you understand?”

It’s the first time she’d been that firm with you.

It’s the first time you notice just how far you’re best friend has come and how much she has changed.

She’s found a confidence, but also lost a part of that innocence.

So, you let her look.

As she fixes it, she’s as gentle as always, but you can tell she’s holding a lot in.

But, she’s putting on a brave face for you.

When she’s done, you put your hands on her shoulders:

“It’s ok to cry, Jem. It’s been a long day.”

And, so, she does.

You embrace her as she does so. Letting out all this pain and confusion.

One thing she knows for sure, though, she has you. Her best friend that she’s known for – pretty much – her whole life.

And she doesn’t know what she’d do without you.

When Ward dumps them in the ocean and you’re left behind, you are fighting him in desperation.

She screams out your name as the pod goes.

It’s those agonising hours of not knowing if you’re alive or not.

When she reunites with the team, she has to deliver the news.

“Where’s Y/N?” Skye asks, not noticing your presence.

Jemma’s speech trembles, “…We don’t know.”

It’s one of the things and reasons she goes to HYDRA undercover. To find you.

And, she gets lucky. It takes a while, but she is able to find you.

You’re being held as a prisoner.

When Bobbi breaks her out, she makes sure to tell Bobbi about you.

“We need to find, Y/N!” She insists.

“I know. We will.” Bobbi assures her.

When they find you, though, you’re almost a husk at this point.

You have been drained. You look like a corpse.

“Can you shoulder them?” Bobbi asks, taking point.

Jemma helps you up, “I do.”

She encourages you the whole way, trying to coax you awake, and to stop her own worry.

She had found her best friend, in anything but a good state.

When you return, she gets you to medical.

Nothing else matters to her in this moment, just making sure your ok.

It is a long process, but they find what HYDRA have done to you.

It is gruesome, and it makes her want to vomit a few times.

It hurts her, knowing that you have been through so much and she had no power to stop it.

She, like with Fitz, has to…well, kind of adapt.

Your more jumpy now.

Whenever you do, she’s always there to help bring you back:

“It was just a door, Y/N, it’s ok.”

She makes damn sure this time to keep you in her eyes sight.

Is it a bit over protective? Yes. But, she means well.

She’s been away for so long, and everything isn’t how she left it, and so she wants to make up for lost time.

She requests to Coulson that you stay at base more, helping in the lab.

Coulson does agree to send you on missions less frequently, but does want you to see a therapist.

However, during this time, there is like zero possibility for it.

At least, until Andrew arrives.

Now, you are a bit hurt by Skye not telling you about the powers, but you do understand.

And, in one particular nasty moment, yourself and Jemma end up in a heated argument with Skye watching the whole thing.

She watches as you both just get more and more upset with the other, how you both don’t go for each other on a personal level, but with the intensity of the words you say and how you both are with being near breaking point, it comes close.

When Andrew comes in, she asks for him to help you.

He agrees, of course.

“Y/N, I’m Andrew. I know I was brought in for Skye. But, Jemma’s told me that you could use a session, too?” He says as he approaches you.

“Do I, like, have to pay for it?” It’s not meant as a joke. But, he does chuckle and shake his head.

“Not at all.”

So, you have a sitdown with him a private place, and you start to open up (it takes a few attempts from him, but he gets there).

He makes his notes, but you just vent.

You let it all out.

Jemma sits outside the room, keeping herself occupied while she waits.

When you leave, she’s there.

“Hi.” She greets, almost a bit nervous.

You give her a timid smile. And she see’s that you have been crying.

As much as she doesn’t like the look of pain you have. She is glad you’ve opened up to someone.

When “Real SHIELD” approach, some believe you have been compromised.

Jemma, in an instant, gets involved:

“Don’t you dare insist that Y/N is one of them. They’re one of the most loyal people I know. They wouldn’t just turn tail and run unlike some of you, people. Abandoning Coulson while he tries to rebuild SHIELD for…whatever your sick version is.”

She makes sure to keep you extra close when this whole thing is going down.

Anyone gives you a look, she just glares at them until they look away.

Part of her knows that you both have swapped; now she’s the physical one with protectiveness.

Slowly, as she helps ground you and assures you that you are the real SHIELD here, she see’s you start to come back, little by little.

You smile a bit more sometimes when around her or one of the team you guys can trust; you talk more.

She’s proud. So, very proud of you.

She smiles so big. It’s almost like old times with her bright smile.

By the time everything has reached it’s end point with the Inhumans in Afterlife, you go out on the field more.

But now you are in regular therapy sessions (unlike her, despite her needing it too)

However, one key event is always brought up in the session; her disappearance.

You, like Fitz, are desperate to find her.

So, you chase every lead with him.

It’s reckless, but it’s needed to get her back.

You both don’t give up. You can’t. Jemma didn’t on you when she was in HYDRA.

And, anyways, she’s your best friend. You aren’t exactly going to just walk away from this when she could be alive.

That could be keeps you going.

When you do find her, you make sure to stay with her when you can.

When she wakes from a nightmare, she see’s Fitz sat next to her, and you at the end of the bed, laid out.

Two of her favourite people in the world, staying with her.

Just as Fitz does, you listen to the voice recordings she made for you both.

Now, it’s your turn to ground her. And you do your upmost to do it.

If she jumps, your there to assure her it is nothing dangerous.

Then, Ward gets the three (You, Jemma, and Fitz) and holds you hostage.

Instead of Jemma being tortured, it is you.

Ward knows that it will break Jemma and help him get the information he wants.

She does, in the end, almost brought to tears by the fear for you and hate for Ward.

She, however, does threaten him plenty of times; just as many times as Fitz does.

When they get you back, they make sure to keep you behind them.

You and Jemma are held in the tent as Fitz is sent to the planet.

You both sneak out, with you taking point.

Both of you decide to let Lash out. Knowing you’re out of options.

When Hive takes Daisy, you all want her back.

But Jemma see’s a determined look with you. And she’s scared.

She knows how you can be when it comes to people you love.

She’s proven right when you go over board in your attempt to get back Daisy.

It nearly. Very nearly ends in your demise.

It would’ve, had Lincoln not been there to help.

Having an actual doctor on sight helped with her saving your life.

She makes sure to thank him, a lot of times, after.

Unfortunately, you are out of action for the rest of it. Recovering.

She’s quick to make you get back in bed if she catches you even lifting a leg out.

“No, back in bed!” She says as she knocks on the glass.

“But, Jemma –-“

“But nothing, Y/N. Back in bed. Now.”

“As long as you and Fitz don’t make out constantly.”

Oh yeah, they are a thing now.

Your happy for your best friends, and don’t do the shovel talk. You just hug them both.

Jemma does agree to your terms.

When the Swayed Inhumans attack, her first instinct is to get you out of the labs.

So, she takes a deep breath, and goes in. She fires at them, being able to drive them back (with Mack coming in as support) enough so she can get to you and get you out of bed.

“So, cleared for duty?” You ask as she and Mack carry you back to their hideout in the base.

She rolls her eyes, “Not bloody likely.”

It is likely, however.

They need all hands on deck, and you’re one of the best agents they have.

“As long as –”

“As long as I stay near you. I know, Jemma. Those are always the rules when it comes to this.”

“How long have these rules been in place for?” Mack asks out of curiosity.

“Since primary.” You say in sync, “Middle school.” You correct – again, in sync – when he looks confused.

At the end of this event, you have a scar of the time you almost died.

It’s out of sight, but she can tell you are constantly reminded of it in your own mind.

Jemma, however, does her best to keep your thoughts either away from the scar, or tries to give some positive spin on it.

And you appreciate your best friend for it. But, you both know it won’t do anything.

You are promoted, just as she is. However, she is now technically your boss.

It’s a job she takes seriously. So, she’s strict.

But she is still your friend. So, she does her duty, but also does cut you some slack every now and then.

It even comes to a head with Director Mace one time when you slip up.

She, however, does hate that you always go out with Coulson and Mack to find Daisy.

She knows she can’t keep it a secret forever.

You both are there when Daisy reappears in your lives, dragging you into her vendetta.

When she finds out about AIDA, she tells you about it. And it does disturb you a bit too.

That being said, you do train Jemma. Sort of becoming an SO – unofficially, but still.

She wants you to hold nothing back. And, so you don’t.

It ends with one of you needing a plaster or two. But she apricates it.

Is she as good a fighter as you? No, but she’s a good one.

She’s always had that fight in her. You are just helping it have another expression.

When the attack of the LMDs occur, she finds you in the area she – eventually – finds.

She finds you, shit scared. And she is covered in Fi- Robot Fitz’s blood. And she too, is shit scared.

You both point blades at each other, demanding the other stay back. When Daisy joins the room, it escalates.

It’s not until Daisy brings you both into a hug that you know the two of you aren’t Inhumans.

Daisy and you both give Simmons a boost and some hope, before going together to fight the LMDs.

Like her, you are almost killed, but you are both able to hold them off.

Jemma gets you both to the cart, helping you both up the ramp of the Zephier.

You are a teacher in the Framework. And you are the first to make contact with Coulson.

When you see her, despite how she looks, you hug each other.

You had no idea if the other was alive.

When she see’s Fitz kill, you have to drag her away.

You try and comfort her, but you aren’t exactly sure on what to say.

When she kills Fitz’s father, it’s in protection of you. As he attacks you when you try to get the phone off of him.

When she gets taken to Space, you are left behind with Fitz.

She finds items of yours, rusted and almost non-existent.

She fears the worst.

You allow Fitz to see her first, as you know your friend needs some time alone with her.

However, you both do reunite, and hug the tightest you have yet.

She never thought she’d see you again. And you were willing to do anything to get there.

She lets herself have this moment with you. Her best friend is back, and – as long as she has something to say about it – you aren’t going anywhere.

With Deke, you act as another parental/mentor figure to him.

He’s heard stories of you too.

When it comes to the marriage, Jemma asks you to be her best person.

Of course, you agree. You help her with her dress and everything.

You’re just so happy for two of your best friends in the whole world

Sadly, with your past pains, they catch up in the fear dimension.

Fitz has psychotic split and hurts Daisy.

You have a manifestation of your shadow self, and get into a fight with yourself.

You lose, and Jemma finds you a mess.

First, her husband does this to one of her best friends, now one of her other ones has been left in this state.

She, of course, patches you up. But, you can see that she too is shaken by this.

She’s more affectionate this time around; hand grabbing, running a hand through your hair as you go in and out of being asleep.

She just wants you to rest, and to be ok.

Although, she knows that you (that anyone on this team, for that matter) is anything but.

Tragically, you do pass. You do get better, but you sacrifice yourself when saving someone.

She has no choice but to watch. She can’t even scream out your name, she just watches as you drop dead.

Then she gets the news of Fitz.

She’s heartbroken. Shattered. But then hopeful. There’s a younger version of you.

So, she takes a crew to space.

Daisy, being another of your best friends (along with Jemma’s best friend, too) knows that you would want her to make sure Jemma doesn’t drive herself insane.

So, she does. She warns Jemma about the amount of close calls yourself and Fitz had while looking for her.

However, it has the opposite effect, and sends her further in her search.

Daisy, still being the loyal best friend to you both, still reigns Jemma in.

Jemma is reunited with the two of you in the mind prison thing.

It’s a trip, to say the least.

You all go back to different memories of each other. And also see the things that haunt you all.

She’s forced to relive your difficult childhood trauma.

But, she’s with you. At least, until you’re all stuck with your own demons.

When you are all stuck in the containment module, it’s a row where you aren’t even sure on what is being said.

However, the three of you…work through your issues and become the trio you always were.

Even if two of the trio are in a relationship.

She makes sure to help you readjust to the time you guys lost.

You aren’t with her when she changes her timeline with Enoch and Fitz.

So, when you see her again, you can definitely tell that something has changed.

She still acts as your best friend, but there are gaps.

She can’t remember everything.

She instantly knows what outfits to have you wear, depending on the period.

You and Jemma – as Daisy later tells you – were forced to watch each other die a lot of times during the time she had in the loop.

You go with Daisy to get Jemma back when she’s kidnapped.

As Daisy says her speech about Jemma being the sister she’d save, Sousa looks to you.

“I don’t have a speech, just a sister to save.” You say, sitting next to Daisy. The woman gives you a smile.

You’re saddened when Jemma can’t remember anything, but hide it.

For the rest of the time, you stay with Jemma, slowly watching as she gets her memory back.

When it all ends, you both retire from SHIELD.

You become a writer.

Alya Fitzsimmons has also heard a lot about you. She loves you instantly.

Just as you do with her.

You visit your best friends whenever you can.

It’s peaceful.

And you have the best friend in the world who will always have your back and best interests at heart.

MAY

Being best friends with Melinda May is an odd thing. There’s a before and after for her.

Before Bahrain:

She’s bubbly.

She’s a really happy person.

Supports you with all your interests and hobbies (might even try one or two of them with you.)

You know Andrew, and get a long with him well.

You also know Coulson well, as the three of you are agents.

Post Bahrain:

She’s closed off.

You and Coulson agonize over how to help her, but neither of you are sure on how.

You are forced to watch as her and Andrew slowly fall out of love and it ends.

It hurts, but you know you will always have her back.

You know, deep down, that she will also have yours.

She calls you whenever you’re on a mission, just checking in.

She worries about you.

She tells you about her day in the more boring, office parts of SHIELD.

But, you understand her reasons for not wanting back in.

You don’t force her back in.

When Coulson gets you onto his team, he floats the idea about May.

“Phil…”

“I know, Y/N. I get it, I do. It’s just…and, no offense intended, she’s the best pilot here.”

“Ok, offense only slightly taken. But…ask her.” He smiles, appreciating the blessing.

He uses the fact you’re on the team as a way to get her to consider.

“Y/N will be there.”

“How the hell did you get them to join?”

“I’m their friend too, May.”

“I know. It’s just, I’m surprised they didn’t kick your ass when you wanted me on board.”

“Oh, they nearly did when I said about the pilot thing.”

“You didn’t…?” She’s smiling.

“Oh, I did.” She even laughs.

It’s a short reunion, just a nod with a smile.

But, you’re back together, and Coulson can see if makes you both happy.

The three of you become parental figures to the younger ones.

Especially Daisy.

If she can’t go to Coulson or May, she goes to you.

Your softer than May is. And Daisy appreciates that about you.

With yourself and May, it’s a quiet friendship; filled with silent smiles and times with you sat in the BUS cockpit with her.

As she starts to get back into the field, it’s you and her; partners.

It’s like nothing has changed with yourself and her in the dynamic in the field.

When Andrew comes back, after she goes on the break, you (like him) don’t give up her location.

With yourself and Andrew, it’s a good friendship, just like yourself and Coulson.

When Andrew dies, you instantly try to comfort May, but you see she is trying to hold it all in.

She does, however, appreciate your words of comfort.

When she dies, you’re with her just like with Daisy, holding May’s hand until she goes limp.

With her new ability with her emotions, you always make sure to hug her so she feels the love you have for her.

You help her with them, helping her embrace them and use them.

And she appreciates you like no one else.

BOBBI

She meets you at the Ops.

She takes you under her wing.

She see’s potential in you, and helps you fulfil it.

Through this, you two bond and become friends.

It’s a light hearted friendship, filled with lots of in jokes and laughter.

You train together.

It takes some time, but you end up winning a few.

She’s so damn proud when you do

You’re like a younger sibling to her.

She tells you about Hunter, and you even meet him during one of their many attempts to reconcile their relationship.

Despite everything Bobbi has said, you get along quite well with Hunter.

Mack too.

Bobbi goes undercover to HYDRA, while you go the SHIELD.

Meaning you meet the rest of the team.

You reunite with Mack and he gets you to meet everyone else.

You grow on them quite quick.

You become an older sibling to the BUS trio.

Whenever anyone (namely Daisy) asks you how you’re so good at this, your answer is always the same;

“Bobbi.”

When Bobbi is injured, you try not to leave her side as much as you can.

But, she also pushes you to keep fighting for SHIELD.

Yourself and Hunter do what you can for her.

You even play matchmaker between the two

When it comes time for her and Hunter to leave, you’re the last to leave the bar.

You and Bobbi share one last, sad, smile.

You are then forced to leave your best friend behind, seemingly for good.

You look out for the team both as your other best friends, but also for her too.

When all this ends, you track them down.

You look hardly like how you did when she last saw you.

But she knows it’s you.

She hugs you so tight.

You just sigh and hug back.

It was a long journey, but you made it.

You were home.

ELENA

It’s a snarky friendship.

And, with Mack as a big brother to you, it’s (mainly through her influence) about him.

She speeds around to get you anything you need. Anything at all;

Water? Done

Tissues? She’s gone and back within a second.

Medical supplies? Same thing.

She cares about you so much.

She’s very open about how much she cares about you;

Hugs, kisses on the cheek, smiles that are beeming.

She has your back, always.

If you disagree, though, jesus, mind out.

It gets heated very quickly.

Mack normally plays mediator between you.

Either that, or someone else on the team.

They know how you both can be.

However, at the end of the day, you’re always there for the other;

Through her hands being chopped off, helping her adjust to her new ones;

Helping her with her confidence when she loses her powers;

Being overjoyed for her when she gets them back.

She loves you like a sibling.

And she’ll always have your back. Always.

#daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #jemma simmons imagine #jemma simmons x reader #bobbi morse imagine #Bobbi morse x reader #melinda may imagine #melinda may x reader #agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #agents of shield x reader

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

Text

Danger: Onyx |1| - JUYEON

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fantasy, royalty!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 5.1k

Lesson 6: when all seems lost, do not falter. Just because it seems hopeless does not mean it is.

Previous: Ruby >> Onyx: Part 1 | Part 2 >> Next: Crown

TBZ Masterlist | Danger | Kingdom

[ Send a dm or an ask to be added to the taglist! ]

The meeting room is abnormally quiet when Somin enters. It could be due to the newly empty seat on the right side of the long table, but not even a whisper hangs on the lips of the remaining mages.

Somin’s mouth doesn’t even curl at their submission. As much as she would like not to show it, the failures of the man who used to sit on that empty seat affected her. Not because she felt particularly fond of him – though she will admit she was sad to see High Mage Jung’s disgrace and demotion, or simply Mage Jung now – but because it left her with a one less competent head at her table.

At the head of the room, she turns, eyes roving over the heads bowed in respect (or is it fear? Pawns and kings, does it even matter?). Her lips curl, but not in joy. In disgust.

One gave her a plan that fell to pieces. Another let a powerful Onyx mage escape from his clutches. Three more on three separate occasions were unable to track and capture the thieves running around and stealing her jewels, with one of them lacking the wits to save her compatriot from the knife of that dratted prince. And when Somin finds out who let it slip that the ruby was to be held at the gray mage’s shrine…

The loss of one semi-intelligent mind means much in this room full of bumbling idiots.

Somin takes a deep breath. High Mage Jung was not infallible either. He failed to anticipate the revolt of the prisoners entrusted under his care, failed to prevent the theft of one of the last three jewels. All because he was sleeping.

She allows a slight smirk to cross her lips. His mistakes will not go unpunished, at least. One of his daughters already awaits retribution for her father under this very palace.

“Sit,” Somin says, purposely embedding the single word with ice.

Everyone sits. Somin does, too, smoothing her full skirts under the table as she tries to hide hands that shake with anger. “It has come to my attention,” she snarls, voice dripping acid, “that this is a room full of failures.”

Several mages flinch. The others remain still, even Lee Minho, who stares at the wooden surface in front of him as though it will give him the answers to the world.

At least Somin can count on his silence, now. Much better than his inability to shut up from before.

“You are lucky that I have a brain as well,” she hisses. “I do wonder what they teach you as mages, if not a single one of you could put together a plan that would not fail on every single level. Even without your specialized training, between dividing my troops and evading Onyx attack, I was able to come up with a plan to lure that insufferable band of jewel thieves into the open.”

Silence.

Somin tuts. “None of you will ask your queen what she intends to do?”

Bom clears her throat quietly. Her stomach wound has long healed, but she still hunches over the table like it never went away. “What is your plan, Your Majesty?”

Such a good puppet. Somin almost wants to pat her head, despite the fact that the mage is at least ten years her senior. This is why Bom sits at her table. It is a table meant for those more powerful than she, but Somin needs someone blindly loyal to her cause to remain close by, no matter how dull-witted.

“We are winning the war,” she starts, allowing a slight smile to curve her lips. “This gives me leave to bring some of our generals back to the capital for, ah, a respite of sorts. I’m sure many are eager to pledge themselves to the new queen and her king, just as all of you were.”

Mouths tighten. Faces whiten. Somin represses a smirk. A gentle reminder of what she holds over their heads never hurts. “I will host a competition of dual blades,” she announces. “It is an art widely practiced among the noble and royal classes, even in some of the common pawn circles. Anyone will be free to join, and the winner will receive the onyx stone as a gift. Spoils of war.” Her smile widens. “Who could resist?”

Minho’s eyes shift from the table to her. “You believe the Onyx prince will fall for this obvious trap?”

Somin returns his gaze. “You believe he won’t?” She laughs. “The prince needs this stone. Even if he has the other four, he has no way of completing the crown unless he somehow takes this one too. He may realize it is a trap, but what other choice does he have?”

Mage Choi Jinhee, at the end of the table, raises her head. “Will you use the real stone?”

A sigh leaves Somin’s lips. Does she really need to spell everything out for them? “No,” she snaps. Her gaze turns to a certain cat-eyed mage, whose mouth thins into a line. “The real stone will be left with the crown in a place no one can access but I.” She sneers. “Need I remind you of what happened last time I listened to such foolish advice?”

Jinhee falls silent, but Minho opens his mouth. Somin curses internally. “The prince is of the Onyx bloodline,” he says, bravely (or foolishly – she’s more inclined to believe that) meeting her stare. “He will sense whether or not the jewel is real. And if it is true that a mage travels with them –”

“Which is why it will only be revealed on the last day of competition, when the winner has fought their way to the finish,” she cuts him off. “No one will see it before then, so no one will know it is fake. The prince will fight until that day, at which point he will be arrested in front of all spectators so they can see just who has managed to trespass into our kingdom during a time of war.”

“How are you so sure the prince will make it to the last day?” Minho challenges.

Somin actually laughs at that. “Have you ever watched the Onyx prince at swordplay?”

A shake of the head. Somin’s smile turns into a smirk. “I have.” She leans forward, staring Minho in the eye. “When I tell you he is skilled, I do not lie. He was taught by Wang throughout his adolescence, and he specialized in it when he underwent his knight training.” Her smirk deepens. “I will not make the mistake of underestimating him.”

Minho’s lips twitch. Somin can’t tell if it’s a result of annoyance or a smirk, and that frustrates her. “It is sometimes just as crucial not to overestimate an opponent, Your Majesty.”

Somin scoffs. “I do not overestimate him,” she snaps. ��If he loses early on, we will only arrest him earlier. Perhaps it will not draw the crowds I would have liked, but as long as he is executed the next day and leaves the Onyx Kingdom without an heir to the king’s crown, it does not matter.”

No one argues with that. Silence falls over the room once more.

A smirk creeps up Somin’s lips, and this time, she allows it to show. “Now, then.” She leans forward. “Who will be tasked with creating the fake?”

. . . . .

Juyeon isn’t stupid. A contest in swordplay offering the last crown jewel as the winner’s prize can’t be anything but an obvious trap.

Personally, he feels slightly offended. Does Somin really think he’s that dumb? He might not be Jisoo with her mind for battle tactics and foreign affairs, but Juyeon has a brain that he often utilizes well, despite what Kevin sometimes likes to say.

(No matter what the amethyst heir says, Juyeon will maintain that cutting himself on a rose bush is far less stupid than setting an entire hill on fire. At least his wounds were healed. As far as he knows, half of that hill is still blackened.)

But the longer he looks at the poster Jacob brought back from the town square, the more it becomes obvious just how well-wrought this trap is. It may be obvious, yes, but more likely than not, Somin’s accounted for this. She has rarely been one to underestimate her enemies, after all. Which means that she expects him to come, knowing it’s a ploy to catch him.

Juyeon swears, throwing the poster to the ground. Of course he’ll come. Of course he will. He may have four of the crown jewels, but he needs the last one. The other four mean nothing if he can’t complete the crown.

So he has to join this contest.

He looks at Jacob and Kevin, both of whom stare at the piece of paper on the dusty ground with similarly grim expressions. Looking at them, a familiar sensation of unease grows in his mind, a tingling suspicion that someone is missing.

Which is impossible. Yes, Sunwoo left a hole in the group that can’t be filled, not even by Jacob, but this feeling is something different from the grief that still grips his heart every time he remembers the death. And then he inevitably remembers knives ripping through flesh, blood pooling on the ground, watching the life drain out of Mage Han’s eyes next to Sunwoo’s already blank expression –

Enough. Juyeon pulls himself out of his thoughts before he can spiral. This feeling isn’t the same as that of Sunwoo’s absence. It’s more like someone or multiple people are supposed to be here, helping him, which makes no sense. Hwanwoong and the others never could have stayed, and Juyeon certainly wasn’t going to drag High Mage Jung along. Jacob might really have committed murder then.

So no one can be missing. No one.

But ever since Juyeon woke up, thorn wounds completely healed after a dream of ruby roses and pain, he knows someone is. And he’s pretty sure he knows who – the shade who healed him, whose face he almost saw but didn’t because his body decided to wake up right then and there.

Which doesn’t make any castles-damned sense.

“Someone has to go.” Kevin’s voice breaks Juyeon out of his thoughts, brings him back to the present problems that have nothing to do with unnamed shades and roses. “And Juyeon’s the best at swordplay. Especially dual blades.”

Juyeon winces. It’s true, he can handle a sword and a dagger extremely well. He just much prefers the stability of a single one.

Besides, dual blades are an Ivory citizen’s weapon of choice. Normally this wouldn’t pose problems – royalty of both kingdoms, especially those who take the knight’s oath, often learn to wield multiple types of weapons – but even wearing white makes Juyeon want to crawl out of his skin, now. Using an Ivory weapon instead of his own?

A grimace crosses his face that he can’t shove away.

“It could be a fake,” Jacob interjects. “In fact, it probably is – why would Somin use the real stone, especially when we already have the other four?”

“Even if it’s a fake, we could get something from it,” Kevin argues. “Traces of magic, maybe. A mage would have had to create it, so couldn’t we track the traces again?”

Jacob frowns. “That took so long last time, though.” He sighs. “I’m not saying we have other choices. But if we could figure out something else…?”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I don’t think there’s another option.” His mouth thins as he presses his lips together. “She wants me to come, that much is obvious. Somin watched me practice when she used to visit the kingdom. She’ll expect me to get to the end of the contest, even against other highly-trained soldiers and generals.”

“You could just be being pig-headed and arrogant,” Kevin says, lips raised in a teasing half-smile. “What if she doesn’t actually think you’ll make it, huh? You have that much faith in your abilities?”

“You –” Juyeon punches Kevin in the arm, unable to force back the smile growing on his face. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t Wang call you one of the most pathetic students he’d ever had?”

Kevin sniffs. “I throw knives better than you ever will.”

“Are you two done puffing your chests around?” Jacob interrupts, cutting Juyeon off from arguing further (which he really couldn’t, anyway – Kevin has the best aim of anyone he’s ever met). He’s smiling too, though, and a wave of gratitude washes over Juyeon at Kevin’s ability to lighten up the mood. But the smile slowly disappears as he opens his mouth again. “Juyeon, if you’re going to do this, you can’t show up with your face on display. Attending the contest is bad enough, but parading around in the open is even worse.”

“Dust masks.” Juyeon turns to Kevin. “Can you make something that’ll hide my face well enough?”

He nods. “Just give me a day, I’ll have it ready. In the meantime, you need to somehow find a pair of dual blades to practice with.”

Well, that’s an issue. Juyeon’s just about to frown when Jacob points to a few lines on the poster he hadn’t read yet. “Blades will be provided so no contestant has an unfair advantage.”

Relief, then anxiety fill Juyeon’s chest. “Which means I’ll have to make another appearance to sign up for this and pick out my size.”

Kevin’s lips thin. “Show up first while wearing the mask. It’s all you can do.”

“And if someone asks?”

“Then say the roads are too dusty.” Jacob coughs. “Which they are.”

It’s a bad plan, not well thought out and far from foolproof, but if worst comes to worst, Juyeon has long legs and knows the capital well enough to get around and maybe hide.

“Well.” Juyeon sighs. “Anything’s better than setting a hill on fire.”

“Queens,” Jacob mutters. “We really need to stop using that as a baseline to judge our bad plans.”

. . . . .

Kevin follows Juyeon to competition registration. It isn’t too hard to stay inconspicuous among the masks most people are wearing, but Kevin keeps his head lowered and gaze alert all the same. It wouldn’t do for anyone to catch them before Juyeon even enters his first swordfight.

But it’s hard when dust keeps flying into his face with every step he takes. Even when he deliberately tries to place his foot down with as little force as possible, it floats into the air with a deceptive grace that itches his nose and makes tears spring in his eyes.

Queens, it was never this bad all the other times Kevin visited, and he’s traveled here a lot over the past few years. Under the previous queen, the roads, though still dusty – it’s inevitable, especially in the dryer months – were much cleaner.

It’s not just that. Even here, in the square, the usual bustle of chatter and cheer sounds so much more subdued than he remembers. When he was younger, he and Changmin and Juyeon would come here on their visits to wreak as much havoc as their tiny bodies could handle. They’d get caught, eventually, but people were always up for a joke or a prank.

Now, though there’s still noise, the level is nowhere near where it used to be. Everyone’s face looks drawn, taut, a little wary, even, as they exchange coins and goods.

An unpleasant tingle runs down Kevin’s back. The current queen is probably too focused on the war at hand to care for her citizens. A scowl crosses his face as he thinks of Somin sitting high and mighty in her palace or wherever she is, directing people to do the dirty work for her.

One of his angry feet kicks a cloud of dust into the air. Kevin starts coughing again. Pawns and kings, it couldn’t get much worse than this, could it?

Just ahead, Juyeon approaches a large white building. Kevin stops where he is, standing idly by a small store as Juyeon flashes him a look that he returns. He disappears into the doors.

Now all there is to do is wait.

Heart in his throat, Kevin does his best to look casual as he lingers in the town square, vaguely gazing at several of the stalls as he tries not to catch anyone’s attention. No meeting eyes, no staring, no looking interested –

“Excuse me?”

Castling queens.

Kevin braces himself, expecting some random Ivory citizen to maybe ask him why he’s loitering around without buying anything. An excuse pops readily onto his tongue as he turns, a slight, wary smile on his face to mimic those of the others prattling around the square –

In the name of the Board and all that is holy –

It takes all of Kevin’s effort not to widen his eyes, not to curse, not to show anything in the face of Lee Jaehyun, a boy he once used to know, a boy he used to play around with on his visits to the Ivory Kingdom. As they grew older and took on different duties, they saw each other less – in fact, the last time they talked was probably a couple years ago – but there’s no mistaking it. This is Lee Jaehyun, the youngest general of the ivory army, knighted when he was just sixteen.

Juyeon himself wasn’t knighted until seventeen, and he’s one of the best fighters Kevin knows. If Jaehyun is here…

Smile. Breathe. Change your voice. Kevin prays the disinterested expression on his face from before hasn’t left as he looks at Jaehyun with veiled curiosity, heart pounding. Thank all the higher orders that he’s wearing a mask. “Yes?”

“You just seemed a little lost.” Jaehyun smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Is it just Kevin’s paranoia, or does he look suspicious? “I wondered if you needed directions somewhere.”

A brief laugh forces itself out of Kevin’s throat, stilted and deep and nothing like his normal snorts and giggles. Good – even less chance of Jaehyun recognizing him. “I don’t, but thank you.” He jerks his head toward the registration building. “Just waiting for a friend.”

Jaehyun nods. “Not signing up yourself, then?”

“Oh, no.” This time, Kevin doesn’t need to lie. “I don’t have the skill to compete against generals of the kingdom.” He cocks his head, feigning interest. “Are you?”

The smile on Jaehyun’s unmasked face tightens, but he nods. “Yes, I am.” He laughs, short and forced. “Who wouldn’t want the glory?”

“Glory,” Kevin repeats, trying to decipher the unreadable look Jaehyun wears. “Is that what matters, then?”

His tone must have been more accusatory than he meant, because Jaehyun’s eyes narrow slightly. Kevin curses internally, about to backtrack, but Jaehyun has already opened his mouth to speak again. “To some,” he says, pose deceivingly relaxed. “Why? What do you think matters more?”

Kevin’s heart is ready to pound out of his chest with anxiety. Sweat beads on his forehead and under his ivory dust mask as his mind races for a neutral answer. Jaehyun just waits, face impassive.

“Care,” he finally replies. “If I had someone under my care, I would put them before anything else, even glory.”

It’s true. He doesn’t need to lie about how he feels about Jacob. About Juyeon.

About Sunwoo.

Pain stabs his chest, pain that he does his best not to show as Jaehyun nods appraisingly. “I agree,” he says, surprisingly. “We are lucky to have a king who cares for us in the way you describe.”

Kevin tries not to raise his eyebrows too high at Jaehyun’s choice of words. King. Not queen.

Does this mean Jaehyun doesn’t care for the queen, either?

It could be. Jaehyun never exactly wanted to play with Somin when they were kids, even though he regularly got into shenanigans with the former queen. Even though she’s ascended the throne, it’s possible that the feelings remained.

With that, it crosses Kevin’s mind to reveal himself and enlist Jaehyun as an ally. But there’s too much to risk with that. They’re so close to completing the crown, so close – they can’t afford a single mistake. Besides, Kevin only has guesses to go by. He doesn’t know anything concrete about Jaehyun that’s recent enough to mean anything.

And also, Juyeon’s just exited the building, two new blades in hand. There’s no time.

“There seems to be a line forming,” Kevin remarks idly. “You should probably take your place before you’re here all morning.”

Jaehyun glances back, almost uninterested, before nodding. “Probably.” He sighs. “Well, it was nice meeting you…”

Queens. Kevin needs to think of a name. “Jihoon,” he spits out, wincing internally at how similar it is to Juyeon’s fake name (seriously, Jiyoon and Jihoon? Come on, Kevin), but it’s too late to retract it because Jaehyun’s already nodding.

“Jihoon.” Jaehyun smiles. “I’m Jaehyun.”

I know.

Kevin doesn’t say that, though, just returns the nod. “Good luck, Jaehyun.”

He means it. Because though Jaehyun might be good, Juyeon has skill, too. And he has something else that Jaehyun doesn’t.

Desperation.

And as horrible a feeling it is to have, Kevin knows with a grim certainty that Juyeon’s going to need to channel as much of it as he can.

. . . . .

When Juyeon learns the Lee Jaehyun is going to be competing in this tournament, he almost wants to give up right then and there. He may be good, but Jaehyun is a prodigy. There’s a reason why he was knighted so early and rose through the army ranks so quickly. His participation basically cuts Juyeon’s chances of winning in half.

Never mind that his chances already weren’t very high.

And then there’s the fact that Jaehyun spoke with Kevin, singled him out of an entire town square as someone to talk to. Though Kevin says he’s pretty sure Jaehyun didn’t recognize him or he probably would’ve said something, Juyeon can’t shake it off that easily. Jaehyun’s smart. He isn’t a general for nothing. If he talked to Kevin, he suspected something. Why else would he give up his position in line for a chat?

A cursory scan of the day’s duels brings Juyeon slight relief. He isn’t fighting against Jaehyun – in fact, he’s in a completely different bracket – which means that he might just make it to the last day if no one catches him. Might.

And then he’ll have to fight Jaehyun, or whoever managed to beat Jaehyun. Though to be honest, if there’s someone else at the top, Juyeon might back out right then and there. Jaehyun is that good.

But if it’s Jaehyun he ends up fighting, there’s a much higher chance of recognition. Which is also not good.

Taking a shaky breath, Juyeon readjusts the dust mask covering his face, trying to drown out the noises of the growing crowd as he steps into the arena. Kevin’s talented fingers have come into play again for the simple piece of cloth, sewing it tight enough around his mouth and nose that it won’t come loose while giving him enough air to breathe. If no one looks too closely, they won’t root him out.

Hopefully.

Juyeon breathes in. Breathes out. Dust swirls around his feet as he walks forward to meet his opponent. Already he’s forgotten the name – it wasn’t anybody he recognized, he remembers that much – and from the stuttering gaze on the boy’s face, he gathers that it won’t be too difficult to beat him this round.

He’s right. The boy – whatever his name is – has some skill but not enough, not the type that Juyeon’s honed over years of training in multiple forms of swordplay. Within minutes, he disarms his opponent, two blades thudding to the dusty ground, and his sword rises to rest against his throat.

Cheers rise as Juyeon lowers his arm, accepting the boy’s hand in a firm shake. Vaguely, he hears his fake name being announced as the winner, but already he’s slipping into one of the tents, exiting as fast as he can, then disappearing into the crowd, unnoticed.

He doesn’t find Kevin or Jacob. They said they’d be here but didn’t tell Juyeon where for fear of accidentally giving them away with a stray glance. Instead, he finds a relatively empty space at the junction between two streets, sits down, and closes his eyes to rest.

The afternoon passes in the same manner, then the next day. Juyeon almost loses his fourth set – he doesn’t recognize the move his opponent uses and it throws him off-kilter when he loses his dagger – but in the end, he manages to flip both blades out of the other’s hand with a wild sweep of his sword that sends the audience into a frenzy. Stonily, he ignores his opponent’s glare and the way she tries to crush his hand with her grip, though his heart pounds for hours after.

Two days gone. One day left.

The third afternoon, Kevin sends him off with a face whiter than usual, fingers trembling at his sides. Jacob doesn’t look much better, huddled into his red cloak as he wishes Juyeon luck. Both put on a brave face, trying to smile as Juyeon slides the blades into his belt, but their worry is obvious.

He can’t blame them. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. Because today, Juyeon’s going to be in the most danger he’s been throughout his two short weeks in the capital.

The crowds will be bigger than ever. There’s a far smaller chance of Kevin and Jacob being able to whisk him out of a tight situation. Somin herself will preside over the final duel as he fights beneath her throne. Well, not her throne because that’s a huge piece of white marble and ivory that can’t easily be carried out of the palace, but she’ll be there.

And to top things off…

A familiar figure stands in the center of the arena, blades already drawn. Even from this distance, confidence radiates from his body, from the slight smile on his face and the easy way he holds his weapons.

Juyeon swallows.

He’s fighting Lee Jaehyun.

. . . . .

Anxiety can’t even begin to cover how Jacob feels as he watches Juyeon enter the arena. Shouts, alternate cheers and boos, follow his footsteps forward into the center of the large, dusty plain.

Jacob doesn’t join in. Neither does Kevin. They only watch silently from a far edge of the crowds, fists clenched so tightly that his nails start biting crescents into his palms.

Pawns and kings. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. If he feels this anxious, how must Juyeon feel, standing under watch of his biggest enemy, facing one of the best (or possibly the best) swordsmen in the two kingdoms, knowing there’s a very sizable chance that someone will either root him out or he’ll simply lose?

Juyeon doesn’t seem to show any worry or anxiety as he tosses his sheaths away, but maybe that’s just because Jacob is so far away. He wishes he was closer, but in the event of things gone awry, he and Kevin need to be able to escape as fast as possible.

If he was alone, standing closer might be an option. He doesn’t need a door just to shift on his own. But with Kevin here, he does.

And he can’t exactly create a door in the middle of a crowd.

A horn sounds. Jacob’s head jerks up.

Kevin’s hand finds his as the first crash of metal rings through the air.

They fight fast. All Jacob can see are flashes of silver, the afternoon sun glinting off the blades and nearly blinding him several times. Two blurred figures weave in and out of each other, barely distinguishable from this far away, and try as Jacob might to pay attention, sometimes he loses sight of Juyeon’s dark hair in the clouds of dust that whirl up from their feet.

Blades clash. Cheers sound. Jacob can barely hear anything over the roar of blood in his ears, can barely feel a thing besides Kevin’s hand clenching his in a death grip. Vaguely, as Jaehyun nearly lands a hit on Juyeon, who just manages to spin away, Jacob wonders if his blood will still be circulating in his fingers by the time this match is over.

One strike blocked, a feint parried, another slash dodged. The duel drags on and on – Kevin mutters something about sundown coming before it’s over and Jacob almost laughs, hysterical and wild with all the adrenaline coursing through his veins – and then –

Juyeon knocks the sword out of Jaehyun’s hand, sending it flying high into the air.

A scream builds in Jacob’s throat as Kevin lets out a pained wheeze. Maybe, just maybe, Jacob thinks, Juyeon has a chance to win this. Castling queens, he needs to –

But Jaehyun catches the blade.

He catches it.

Jacob nearly falls over entirely as the general resumes the fight, barely looking like he’s broken a sweat. Juyeon stumbles and Jacob almost releases his previous scream. He manages to regain his balance, though Jacob can tell even from here that Juyeon’s shaken.

Who wouldn’t be, after all? No one could blame Juyeon after that sort of stunt.

But he can’t afford to be shaken. He needs to move, to fight, to win this for the stupid onyx stone that’s probably a fake anyway because they need all the information they can get, even if it means putting the Onyx prince himself in a direct line of danger –

The dagger falls out of Juyeon’s hand. Jaehyun kicks it, sending the blade skittering across the arena.

Kevin’s nails begin cutting into Jacob’s skin.

Juyeon continues the fight. He’s already fought and won against another girl who managed to disarm his dagger hand, Jacob knows, so there’s a chance, a tiny chance that he could still make this. As sweat stings his open eyes, he prays, he prays to every higher order of the two kingdoms, pawns and kings, please let Juyeon win this –

But Jaehyun isn’t the girl from before. And with the first trip, the first tiny stumble over a stone or a rut in the ground, the general flips the sword out of Juyeon’s hand. It falls to the ground in a cloud of dust.

The tip of a blade inserts itself under Juyeon’s chin.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for juyeon he needs it)

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ask-mirror-and-prime-simon · 4 years ago

Text

The Mirror Car

Summary: After a long time of traveling Simon meets a familiar face

A/N: Guess who's up for asks next

Chapter: 2/?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: N/A

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty two

Twenty two days and still no sign of her

His eye twitched,the lack of sleep slowly catching up to him. Even if the cars weren't supposed to move with a passenger inside he dare not risk being sent a million cars away just for a measly ten minute long nap. Just keep moving,he could take this for her sake.

He walked sluggishly,eyelids struggling to stay open. The only thing that awoke him was the hard thud of the door smashing against his head. He let out a pained curse,rubbing his forehead. This next car better be worth it or else he was going to scream.

The boy pushed the doors open,looking over his surroundings. Everything from the floors to the structures that scattered the room and sky was chrome,a cold breeze hitting him like a brick. A shiver ran down his spine,the boy stuffing his hands in his pockets as he stepped inside.

The entire car was almost a void aside from the occasional odd shape or two that were thrown carelessly across the seemingly endless space. It was as if he had walked into one of those boring art museums his mother found such interest in,not that he could ever bring himself to admit that to her. Even in their strangeness she found some weird form of perfection in them. Maybe it was the way they "perfectly captured and made sense of imperfect feelings" or something sort of vague explanation she would give. If there was one thing he didn't miss from his old home life it was certainly that.

A certain shape caught his tired eyes,a tilted spiral sticking out from the floor and reaching until it hit the bottom of a floating sphere. His reflection was twisted in its curls,the boy letting out a half chuckle. "You look like shit"

"Can you please be nice to at least one person on this train?"

He froze,staring at the blonde in the coils. He rubbed his eyes,fatigue still lingering. He had seen many odd things on his journey but he was at least eighty percent sure he hadn’t lost his mind yet.

He turned,finding himself face to face with a block only a few inches taller than himself. Behind its surface was his reflection,a hand halfway through a wave. "H-"

"AAAHH!"

Without a second thought Simon jumped back,the slippery floor tripping him until he hit the ground with a loud thump.

The boy on the other side reached out in hopes to grab him,attempt blocked off by the thin barrier. He could only wince,looking to his prime with concern.

"Are you okay?"

The other snapped his head up,a mix of fear and anger on his face. "Who are you and why do you look like me?!"

"I-"

Simon pulled the glass shard from his pocket,holding it as a makeshift knife. "You've got three seconds to explain before I change my mind”

The other flinched despite the clear barrier between the two. "Put the glass down"

"No!"

"I'm not going to do anything" He promised. "Just let me explain"

Simon scrambled to his feet,immediately gripping the corner of the block. He pressed the sharpest edge of his new weapon against where the other's neck would be,a sneer on his lips. "Two seconds left"

"Okay,just relax for a minute" The other insisted. "I'm you,sort of"

"No you're not" Simon said,eyes narrowed. "You're just another Null made by the train"

"Kind of" The other said before shaking his head. "But that doesn't matter,I need to tell you that-"

Before he could finish Simon turned away,slashing the surface with a grunt. He stepped back,expecting the denizen to hit the ground in silence as usual. Instead the chrome boy hesitantly opened an eye,slowly reaching to feel his neck. Still smooth. He let out a sigh of relief. "Don't...Don't do that again,okay?"

Simon stared at him,eyebrows furrowed. Why was he alive? Why did he rush to at least attempt to kill him so brutally? Was it such an outlandish claim that made him snap? There was no way even the train could come up with something so stupid. He was a strong warrior on a mission and this null was...weak,yet he dared share his face and voice. The fact that he survived was the biggest insult,knowing he'd still be around to expose his own worries. No,he couldn't waste anymore time on this imposter,not when his friend was left vulnerable to her car.

With that he let out a heavy sigh,returning to his path towards the door. "Forget it,I'll come back to wheel you later"

"But that's what I'm trying to tell you" His reflection followed from under his feet,taking each step he did. "You can't go any further without me"

Simon looked to the other,eyebrow raised. "Oh yeah? Watch me"

The boy continued the walk,occasionally glancing at the chrome floor. His reflection followed,returning the stare with worry in his eyes. Simon let out an annoyed groan. "Leave me alone,I don't have time for this"

"Just listen to me" The boy begged,attempting to cut off his path from under him. "It's about Gra-"

His fists clenched at the mention of his friend,immediately turning to find his reflection now plastered on a sphere floating by his hip. "I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He swung his leg,kicking the chrome ball with all the force in his thin frame. Immediately he was met with a crushing pain,shocks running through his bones and shaking his core. A single crack was left behind,the damage far from the main thing in his mind.

An agonized scream escaped him,the boy stumbling until his back hit the pyramid planted in the center of the room. He let out pained breaths,turning to the reflection that now stood above him in the next pole. "This is your fault!"

"If you'd just listen to me I could help you!"

"I don't have to listen to you," Simon hissed. "I can do this on my own"

"I'm the only way you can get out" The mirror boy insisted. "You just have to-"

"I'm not taking orders from a null!" Simon shouted,finally standing. Refusing to face the glassy floors he limped to the door,the other growing a frown.

Once at the door the boy took hold of the top half circle,attempting to turn it. Calloused hands pushed until his knuckles turned white,Simon letting out a strained grunt before finally giving up. "Why are there so many stupid puzzle cars?!"

"Its so-"

"SHUT UP!" Simon yelled before shoving his face in his palms. He felt a warmth on his hand,the feeling spiraling down his arm and up to his elbow. A quick peek revealed two more digits now edging onto his forearm. Normally he would be proud,showing off his new achievement to his friend with a gleeful smile and she would lift her own arm for him to see the five more that crawled closer and closer to her shoulder. It was always a defeat he'd take with a playful smirk. That was the great Grace Monroe he grew to love,always one step ahead with a teasing yet well meaning quip to boot. Looking at the numbers now he wasn't sure what to feel.

"Grace...wouldn't like that"

"How would you know?" The long time passenger snapped,leaning back against the red wood. "You've never even met her"

"No...but...I have an idea of her" The reflection said,moving to now sit behind the chrome wall beside him. "She's sweet,funny,and just...over all a great person"

The other remained silent,eyes focused on his arm. Even after what felt like years he could still see her smile. "Yeah...she is"

The mirror boy thought for a moment,looking to his own arm. Metal,cold,and free of any numbers. He could only imagine what it must physically feel like to have what the two took so much pride in. Well,at least until they met that special little girl that seemed to change the woman's entire world. "You know...even if you did screw up,she still cares about you"

"I didn't screw up," Simon muttered under his breath. "I was trying to make her normal again"

"What if she wasn't happy with what you think is normal?" The other asked softly. "That's the only reason she'd want to change,isn't it?"

"She's always been happy with it," He quickly said. "And she's going to be happy just like before when I get her back"

"After all you did to her?" The other reminded him. "With Hazel and Tuba...If I was her...I'd never forgive us"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" He finally turned to him,fist clenched. "I did what I had to!"

"You didn't have to hurt her by putting her through all that and leaving her alone" He hesitated,voice barely above a whisper. "You know,seeing you leave her...it reminded me of Samantha-"

Brown eyes grew wide,the boy throwing his fist into the glass wall. A crack peaked out from under it,thinner ones crawling in different directions like a spider's web. "I'M NOT LIKE HER!"

"Then why did we leave her behind the minute you got scared?!" The other questioned from behind the cracks. "Why didn't you tell her you were scared?! She would still be here if you just said that!"

"I WASN'T SCARED!" Simon yelled,chest heaving from anger. "I was trying to protect what we had!"

"Well you did a bad job at it!" The boy shouted,frustrated tears brimming at the corner of his eyes. "Now she's gone and it's your fault!"

Simon stood back,staring as the other trembled. It would take a gun to his head to ever admit anything remotely close to that,not that such thoughts didn't occasionally pop up in the back of his mind before promptly being snuffed out. Yet hearing such words in his own voice,how his reflection crumbled so quickly at the very possibility,it was enough to make his stomach churn. "I...I didn't..."

"Everything was going fine before" His reflection said,wiping the tears from his eyes. "Why couldn't you just listen? Then we'd all still be together. We could've fixed the Apex so Tuba and Hazel would be safe,we'd stop worrying about stupid numbers and hurting everyone,we could have changed and-"

"Shut up," Simon said weakly. He attempted to throw another punch,his knuckles only hitting the surface with a barely audible thump. "Stop it...we...I couldn't..."

The reflection looked to him,guilt creeping upon his shoulder. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have dumped all of that on you"

No response

He thought for a moment before pressing his hand against a bruised fist. "You're not evil if that's what you're thinking. If you're trying so hard to find Grace there must be some part of you that wants to be better,if not for you then at least for her"

His arm fell limp,Simon slowly slumping onto the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest,face buried in the small space in between. His reflection could only look on,a hypothetical heart aching at the sight. "Hey...you can still fix this"

Shaky hands grabbed his hoodie,pulling it over his head. "Leave me alone"

"Simon..."

He didn't answer,only curling up further in his little ball. The chrome boy let out a sigh,leaning against the barrier that separates the two. "Okay...I'll be here if you want to talk"

Just as expected,he remained silent. Too afraid to be afraid,and too scared to fix it all.

#infinity train #it #infinity train au #it au #mirror simon au #two way mirror au #two way mirror #simon laurent #infinity train simon #simon infinity train #simon it #mirror simon #fic #fanfic #infinity train book 3 #infinity train book three #infinity train fanfiction #fan fiction

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piccadilly-lilly · 4 years ago

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“The predicament in which Isolde and I found ourselves seemed fictional, fantastic right from the start. 　 We met while I was on holiday behind the Iron Curtain. I was a Swedish student working for my doctorate in political science. She was a medical student from East Berlin: beautiful, slender with dark hair and smiling eyes. In a few days we were in love and, three months later, visiting her at her flat in East Berlin, I asked her to marry me. 　 "But that is impossible," Isolde said, her eyes brimming with tears. "The authorities would never let me leave the country." 　 I refused to take no for an answer, and finally convinced her that she must try to escape. On a map, we examined the communist borders stretching from the Baltic to the Black Sea and considered how we'd slip out. By that time (July 1965), all the standard means of escape such as a break through the Berlin Wall, were too risky. 　 Suddenly, to my own astonishment, I heard myself say, "I'll fly you out Isolde." 　 Her eyebrows shot up. "But I didn't know you were a pilot." 　 "I'm not," I admitted. I had never been in a cockpit in my life. But I will go back to Sweden and learn to fly, and then I'll fetch you." Isolde looked at me as if I were crazy but before the evening was over, she agreed that a small plane was our best chance. 　 The trouble was that, within an hour of my first lesson in Stockholm, I learned that flying definitely was not my strong point. My coordination was poor, my depth perception and sense of balance wretched. 　 But I kept at it, and eventually I was learning how to execute ludicrously inept landings. My instructor, however, was not encouraging. My persistence in flying too low over the treetops (one day I would have to fly that low to get in under the Communist radar beams) especially upset him. "Higher, higher!" he'd shout. "We don't want to lose our plane!" 　 It took me nearly a year, 40 training hours in the air, to get my pilot's certificate. One August day in 1966, I got the precious document. I also succeeded in obtaining a tourist visa valid for two entries to Czechoslovakia, which we had decided was the country best suited for the rescue flight. 　 Next morning, Sunday, August 14, I took the train to Vienna and on Monday drove from there to the nearby check border in a hired car. The frontier police examined my visa and painstakingly checked my car and luggage. I made myself relax. How were they to know that my real mission here was to find a suitable out of the way field in which to land and pick up Isolde? 　 I selected an abandoned pasture north of Bratislava and about 25 miles east of Vienna, near a point where the sombre, wooden guard towers were a little farther apart than usual. 　 Although there were no Cessnas - the only plane with which I was familiar - available in Vienna, I learned that I could hire one in Salzburg, 155 miles away. I took the train there, and proved to an inspector at the airport that I could handle the plane. Then I managed to navigate the little aircraft back over the unfamiliar landscape to Vienna. 　 Everything was now ready. From Salzburg I had sent Isolde the coded telegram she had waited so long for. "MAGNUS ARRIVES AT 16.40 BRUNO." In the Swedish calendar, of which Isolde had a copy, each day has a special Christian name. Magnus was the following day, Friday, August 19 and I was asking Isoldeto meet me at the railway station in Brno, Czechoslovakia. 　 On Friday afternoon, I sped by car to Brno, 68 miles away. Isolde was there at the station. In our joy at being together again we forgot for an hour or so that the night held any problems for us. 　 By dinner, our laughter was hollow, our smiles frozen. We were aware that we might be celebrating our last meal. After dark we drove to the "escape field." I switched off the lights before leaving the road and crossed the pasture in the dark. 　 There was no time to waste. At any moment the tower's searchlight, slashing about in circles just 330 yards away, might spot the car. 　 "Hide there in the trees until morning," I told Isolde. "I"ll come just before dawn. When you see my plane, wave your scarf to show me where you are. And remember , whatever happens, I love you." 　 Back in Vienna two hours later, I was far too excited to sleep. instead, I wrote a letter to my parents in Sweden, telling them for the first time about Isolde, and asking for their understanding in case anything went wrong. At about 3 a.m. I checked out of the hotel and went to the airport where I explained that "urgent business in Salzburg" required me to take off just as soon as it was light. But I had hardly settled in the cockpit when the sky was split by jagged forks of lightning, followed by tremendous thunderclaps. Then the rain began to fall and I was unable to take off. 　 For two more hours I fumed and fretted, waiting for the storm to abate. Finally, at 8 o'clock sharp, I was cleared for takeoff. 　 Once outside the traffic pattern, I dived to treetop level to slip under the radar surveillance at the border. Hedge-hopping, I followed the main railway into Czechoslovakia, swept in between the two guard towers I'd chosen and skimmed over the empty pasture at an altitude of only 65 feet. 　 No familiar jumper, no waving red scarf. Isolde was not there. I banked, and rolled back towards the two guard towers. Terrified, I fully expected the soldiers, plainly visible on the towers, to open fire. But I had caught them off guard. 　 Safely back in Vienna I was utterly exhausted and worried sick about what might have happened to Isolde. There was only one thing to do. I hired another car and rushed back to Czechoslovakia, to the Bratislava hotel where we had planned to meet if anything went wrong. She was there, safe though badly shaken. 　 In her hiding place she had been drenched with rain, frightened by unfamiliar night sounds, and terrified when, at dawn, she had heard a burst of shots from the near-by border. Remembering our agreement that I would arrive shortly after the dawn she was afraid something had happened to me. Yet she had waited for me until full daylight, only then had she left her hiding place and found a road where, eventually, a motorist picked her up. 　 Despite her ordeal and knowing that a second attempt might be twice as dangerous, Isolde was eager to try again. "What other chance will we ever have, Hans?" She asked. 　 The following morning we set out north along the border searching for a new "escape field". We found it near the little town of Mikulow. It was well marked by a small lake and a tall pine grove which I believed I could easily see from the air. 　 I left Isolde there about 3.30 p.m., again promising to pick her up at dawn the next day, Monday August 22. 　 On the way back to Vienna I stopped briefly in several towns to make small sketches of the distinctive church steeples in each. These, I hoped, would help lead me back to the meadow. It was late afternoon when I stopped at the airport. Because the airport people were still friendly, I knew the Czech authorities had not lodged a complaint about my illegal morning flight. 　 Trying to sound casual, I asked the meteorologist, "What about the flying weather tomorrow, good?" 　 "No," he said. "Low hanging clouds are moving in early tonight." This meant that with my limited experience, takeoff and landing might be impossible by morning. The news hit me like a blow in the stomach. If all our efforts were not to be in vain, I would have to act quickly. It was now 5.30 and soon it would be getting dark. 　 I rushed over to the flight operations desk and tried to keep my voice level as I said, "I'd like to take a little exercise flight just to see the sunset." "Alright," said the flight dispatcher, but since you are not cleared for night flying you must be back by dusk-no later!" I knew I couldn't get back before dark, and I've never flown at night. But there was no time to worry about it. I dashed for my plane and took off. 　 Following the church steeples I'd sketched, I found my stretch of frontier, dived to an altitude of only 30 feet and leapfrogged a hill between two guard towers. Suddenly, right in front of me and less than 100 yards away, was a third tower I hadn't seen before. I missed the tower top by what seemed inches. A soldier opened his eyes wide with terror as I practically flew into his open mouth. 　 But the near-miss disorientated me. Where was the little lake, the tall pine grove where I had left Isolde. Circling, I found one lake, then another, but neither was ours. I broke into a cold sweat the light was fading fast. 　 With shaking hands, I took out my map and saw that there were only three lakes in the whole area. Climbing to get a broader view, I suddenly saw it, and saw to my enormous relief, OUR field beside it, our pine grove… and a tiny figure frantically waving a red scarf. 　 it was certainly one of the worst landings I ever made. I came in too high, overshot the field and had to break heavily to stop. Without a word Isolde jumped into the seat beside me. Almost instantly we were roaring up into the dusk in a take off as bad as the landing. I could almost hear the sound of machine-gun fire as I spiralled up as fast as I could. It was now quite dark and all the familiar landmarks had vanished. I did the only thing I could: took a compass heading of the opposite direction from which I had come. 　 Luck was with us. After some 20 acutely anxious minutes, we spotted in the distance a cluster of jewelled lights – Vienna! – then the straight, beaded string of lights that marked the airport runway. I made my approach just as if it were daytime. When I thought the runway lights whizzing by looked big enough, I pulled up the plane's nose and made an amazingly smooth landing. 　 One last hurdle remained: the airport authorities must not see Isolde or back she might go. We had planned for her to slip away into the darkness of the big field. But just as she was getting out, a car from the control tower board down on us with blazing headlights. 　 "Hide!" I whispered. Isolde scrambled back into the baggage compartment and disappeared just before a furious air control officer pulled up. 　 "You've put us to a lot of bother tonight," he snapped. "We even contacted Czech Air Control to see if they'd seen or heard you." My heart sank. "They said they had, but only over Austria, and that's a good thing for you, mister. You can get into serious trouble blundering across the border!" 　 He drove away, and I taxied the plane to a hangar. As an attendant blinded by my lights, opened the hangar door, I told Isolde, "Quick run for it." She did, without being seen. I met her outside the field and we drove jubilantly into town. 　 Next morning I sneaked Isolde back aboard and flew her to West Germany, where I landed in a field and let her out. After returning my plane to Salzburg I rejoined her. It took her a month to get her papers, and on her 25th birthday she arrived in Stockholm. We were married in the white stone church where I'd been christened, and we left on our honeymoon by car. I no longer fly planes.”

-Hans Christian Cars, from a translation of “Flykten ��ver järnridån”

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 5 years ago

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yoo, okay this is a bit of an angsty request but i NEED this !! essentially, the reader loves midoriya (or anyone of your choosing, really) yet its unrequited ^^ maybe a popular ship or smth is real in ur writing, like tododeku and reader is all "oh heckles, midoriya doesn't love me" and just,, sad stuff ?? maybe even a hanahaki disease au if you'd like!!! i want it as a n g s t y as possible with no happy ending jksdhgjdsghjdsjgk thank you sm ily

Of course I had to take the chance to write a hanahaki au - idk if this is angsty enough - im bad at angst lol, but here ya go anon

No - this couldn’t be happening. You didn’t love him, you couldn’t. But - the bloody flower petal in your hand spoke otherwise. You felt the world spiraling around you, yet you were frozen.

Midoriya Izuku - your best friend who had stolen your heart and given his to another. Of course, there was no chance of Izuku returning your love, he was dating Shouto. You remember the excitement in his eyes when he first told you they were together - and the excitement you had reciprocated for your friend. If only you knew the suffering you would later go through because of him.

Of course, there is no knowing whether Izuku would have loved you if he wasn’t with Shouto - but it seemed the possibility was nonexistent at this point. So, you had 3 choices. You could muster up the money for surgery and lose all your feelings for Izuku, get lucky and make yourself fall out of love with him, or die. And right now, you desperately hoped you were lucky.

Quickly grabbing your phone off of its nightstand, you opened your messages, sighing softly at Izuku’s contact near the top of your messages, and found Momo. She’s vice class rep - so she’s probably the best person to ask to get your homework without getting scolded, and you texted her “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to school tomorrow Momo, I’m feeling pretty sick. Could you tell me the homework so I don’t fall behind?”

It was late, so you didn’t expect a reply. But you didn’t need one - you weren’t going to school. If you weren’t around Izuku, maybe you would forget about your feelings for him and be cured. You were hoping, anyways.

You woke up the next day late in the afternoon - it’s not often you get to stay home from school - to a text from Momo, saying “Oh no! I hope you feel better, I’ll send you the notes and homework after school. Get some rest!” You smiled at her kindness and laid back on your bed. But then, you noticed the other messages in your notifications. A few on the groupchat, with little “get betters” - which you were expecting. This class treats itself like a family, people are gonna worry if you’re sick. There were also more personal messages from Eijirou, Tenya, and - Shouto and Izuku.

Shouto had also become a close friend of yours in the time you’ve known him, the two of you always being around Izuku allowed you to develop a bond yourself. So it was no surprise that he texted you, but all you felt was anger towards his “How are you feeling? Do you want me to bring you some soba? I’ll even warm it up for you.” There was a small twinge of guilt in your stomach, he obviously didn’t deserve your anger, but you couldn’t even spare him a response.

Then Izuku - how were you supposed to forget about your feelings when he was constantly so perfect? You found yourself smiling at his message, a “Good morning y/n! I hope you’re feeling better today! I’ll come by and check on you after I finish my homework :)” Sitting up, you went to respond - but you were interrupted by a sharp pain in your throat before you began coughing, and you covered your mouth with your hands only to feel the light touch of petals fall into them.

There were more than last night.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at your hands once again. It hadn’t even been a full day, but already the flowers were growing rapidly. With shaky hands, you shook off the petals and returned your phone, quickly messaging “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. You don’t need to come by either, I don’t want you getting sick and I’ll probably be sleeping.”

The seriousness of your situation finally set in - last night you hadn’t seemed to fully grasp that if you didn’t do something to stop this, you would literally die. A few choked sobs escaped your lips, and you winced in pain.

You roughly fell back down onto the bed - frantically wondering what to do. Would Recovery Girl be able to cure you? Would the disease go away if you just forgot about Izuku? You grabbed your phone and started searching for answers. Articles upon articles on the disease, talking about what the misfortunate people who contract it can do to save themselves.

What you found was disappointing - there are no accounts of people being able to overcome the disease on their own, and always had to resort to surgery or death. You didn’t have the money for surgery, and you didn’t want to bring your friends into this and ask for help - but you didn’t want to die.

“What am I gonna do…” You threw your phone onto the bed and put your hands over your face, holding back your tears. As much as you simply wanted to avoid Izuku until you didn’t love him anymore, it was impossible. Sweet Izuku, who deems it his responsibility to be the most caring person on earth, would be devastated if you were to suddenly cut off ties with him. Besides, how could you when you were forced to see him everyday at school regardless. There was only so long you could feign being sick - you doubted the school wouldn’t do anything to help you.

The rest of the week was spent in the comfort of your own room - you had managed to convince your friends that you were too sick for school, and for anyone to visit. Researching options had been your top priority, mainly what the surgery entails, but everything you found made you less and less optimistic.

The surgery costs thousands of dollars, money that no average high school student would have - meaning unless you were to ask for help there would be no way to get the surgery in the first place. And even if you could, there were no certain results. With how rare Hanahaki is, there aren’t enough accounts of successful operations to rely on. Well - they all worked, those who got the surgery were alive. But some had results more drastic than others.

From the result you were hoping for - being you would simply lose feelings for Izuku and live on - to people who had completely forgotten about the person they loved all together. As much as you didn’t want to die, how would you live on without remembering Izuku? Your best friend. He’s been there for you through so much, the thought of living on without him was terrifying.

Yet, everyday you were reminded with the inevitable coming of your death. The itching in your lungs grew everyday, as did the amount of petals you were coughing out. It wouldn’t be long until your lungs were full of flowers - and you suffocated.

----

“Y/n! Are you feeling better?” Eijirou smiled brightly at you as you walked into the classroom, and you returned a soft smile before sitting in your desk. “I guess.” All you could do was be optimistic, at least in front of your friends. After a week of practically being MIA, you decided you wouldn’t worry them anymore. Besides, if you waited any longer, you’d probably wake up to Katsuki blowing down your door with 15 people behind him.

Everything was as normal, you talked with Denki and Mina as you waited for class to start, Katsu gave you a “look who finally decided to show up,” - which you knew meant he was glad you were okay - and you even managed to be happy when Izuku ran in and gave you a hug. Your smile strained when Shouto said hi to you however, both because you felt bad for having ignored his texts all week, and because you just didn’t want to be around him. At least not yet.

Aizawa soon walked into class, and everyone hurried to their seats so that class could start. It wasn’t anything special today - just some more basic hero instruction, and you were happy that you could take it easy as to hopefully not trigger your coughing. You’d be able to tell him about it after class - maybe he could find a way to let you stay out of school until you figured this out.

Still - class was especially long today. Having not been present for a few days seemingly made the period feel much longer than it truly was. And just as luck would have it, an itch began to grow in the back of your throat, and you panicked. You didn’t want anyone else knowing - you didn’t want that kind of attention on you. To be the poor soul of 1A who might die

You raised your hand, wanting to use the restroom as an excuse to get out of there.

“Yes, y/l/n?”

“Can I-”

Speaking apparently only made it worse, and before you could even finish your sentence you hunched over - beginning to cough up a multitude of flower petals. However, this time was a lot worse than the previous ones, your coughing not letting up until you were choking on petals - likely due to your forcing yourself not to cough for so long. Petals were overflowing from your hands as you attempted to cover your mouth, falling onto your desk and down to the ground.

Everyone’s attention had already been on you, and with the surprised expression on Aizawa’s face as he ran over to you - they all saw the dark red blood dripping out of your hands and the soft pink petals blanketing your desk. Your attempt at hiding your sickness had only pushed it forward, and now there was nothing you could do.

Aizawa rubbed your back until you calmed down, and you looked up from your hands to the horrified looks on your friends’ faces. Your face was covered in blood and tears - you looked a mess.

“Let’s get you to Recovery Girl, okay? Can you stand?”

You nodded, but Aizawa still made sure to hold onto your arm just in case. The room was silent as he led you out, all eyes stuck on you. As you looked back - you were met with the wide eyes of Izuku, and you quickly looked away.

Aizawa had left right after dropping you off at Recovery Girl’s, ruffling your hair a bit and giving you a soft smile in an attempt to cheer you up.

“Hanahaki disease… I don’t think I’ve ever seen this personally. I can’t promise I’ll be able to help you, but we can try.”

You sat on one of the beds as she walked around the room, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before bringing it over to you.

“You probably want to wash all the blood off.”

As you slowly rubbed the washcloth over your mouth, Recovery Girl grabbed your hand and kissed it. Normally, you’d immediately feel better. But other than the scratchy feeling in your throat - nothing changed. You could still feel the slowly growing flowers filling your lungs, they hadn’t gone away.

“How do you feel?”

“The flowers are still there… I can feel them.”

Recovery Girl sighed, “What about your throat? I’m sure all that coughing must have hurt - does your throat feel better?”

Nodding slowly, you felt tears forming in your eyes. So she couldn’t heal you.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ve tried all I can. All I can do is heal the physical damage - but no matter what I do, the flowers will keep growing. And if they keep increasing their growth at this rate, soon that won’t even be enough.”

With all the luck you’ve been having lately, it wasn’t surprising that this was the outcome. But that didn’t mean you weren’t disappointed. Before you could let your emotions overcome you and start crying in front of her, you jumped off the bed and began making your way out.

“Oh - I understand… thanks anyways.”

With a forced smile to Recovery Girl - who’s worried expression only served to make you feel worse - you trudged out of her office and into the long hallway.

“Y/n! Wait up! What happened?”

Izuku chased you down the hall as you left Recovery Girl’s office, a hopeful smile on his face. Apparently he had made his way down there as soon as class ended, wanting to make sure that you were okay. That smile disappeared as he saw your face, contorted in distress as a few tears escaped your eyes. “She wasn’t able to help you, was she?”

He took your silence as a no, but still tried to be optimistic, “Well, there has to be something we can do!”

With all the pain you were in, you’d think that your main worry would be yourself. But no - that hopeless look on Izuku’s face was where your worry had settled. He obviously felt that it was his duty to help you, even if there was nothing he could do.

“There’s surgery, and there’s dying.”

Izuku’s eyes glossed over and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you close.

“You gotta get the surgery y/n! Please - I don’t want you to die.”

If only he knew what he was asking of you. Would he tell you to get the surgery even if he knew he was the one you loved? Would he let you risk forgetting about him - and all the memories you had formed together?

“I don’t have that kind of money, Izuku. And I’m not going to bother anyone with my problem.”

His frown deepened, and his eyes shot around the floor as if he was looking for an answer, “But - I’m sure everyone would help out-”

“No - Izuku. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it, please. It’s not your problem, it’s mine. Let me figure this out on my own.”

With your words, his grip on your wrist loosened in shock, and you used that as an opportunity to pull your hand away.

“I’ll be fine Izuku, what ever happens, just let me figure it out.”

You left him standing there, worried and hurt as you ran back to your dorm room - just wanting to be alone to process the events of today.

----

A constant knocking at your door drew you awake. As soon as you arrived in your dorm, you found yourself especially drained of energy, and quickly fell asleep. You desperately wanted to just ignore the thumping, but whoever it was wasn’t going to let up, so you sighed and slowly sat up and made your way to the door.

“Shouto? What’s up?”

When you opened the door, you were surprised to see Shouto standing there. He asked if he could come in, and you reluctantly agreed. As soon as you closed the door, he started talking.

“Izuku told me about what happened. Are you really planning on doing this yourself?”

It was hard to read his expression. On one hand he looked worried, but the sharp look in his eyes proved his frustration.

“You’re really going to let yourself die - just so you don’t get anyone else involved?”

His sharp gaze made you feel almost ashamed, as if your decision was completely idiotic - although you supposed it was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply, you’ve already caused enough trouble as it is, you don’t want to make others fix your problem.

Shouto sighed and placed his hand on your shoulder, “I’m paying for your surgery. We’ll schedule it for this weekend, can you hold out for that long?”

Your eyes shot to his, the sharp look continuing to tell you he was serious. Even so, you gave him a light glare, crossing your arms as you replied, “What? No - you’re not! You heard it from Izuku, I’m not asking for anyone’s help.”

“Then you’ll die.”

That made you pause. It wasn’t like Shouto to be so blunt, at least not anymore, but he really was serious.

“I - … I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Y/n, let me do this. I know you don’t want my help, but I don’t want you to die. No one wants you to die, and you don’t want to die.”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so with a heavy sigh you nodded, “Fine… but - I’ll owe you something. Anything.”

Shouto chuckled lightly at that, and nodded, finally taking his hand off your shoulder as he spoke “Deal. Actually, I know what I want. Hanahaki happens when you love someone that doesn’t love you, right? So - who do you love? I’m just curious.”

Fuck. Of course he would ask that. You forced a smile, “Ah - I don’t wanna talk about that… Isn’t there something else you could ask, or that I could do for you? There’s gotta be something.”

“I don’t have anything else in mind, this is all I wanna know right now. Are you embarrassed by who it is? Or is it me?”

He laughed when he mentioned himself, but he was still looking at you expectantly. If Shouto was anything, apparently it was persistent.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to get upset.”

“I promise.”

With a deep breath, you looked at the ground and muttered, “Izuku.”

Shouto’s face fell from a soft smile to a painfully neutral expression. The room was silent, except for your slight coughing - all the talking had edged you closer to another coughing fit, and you wanted him out before it happened.

“I’ll call the doctor tomorrow.” Shouto walked to the door and opened it, but paused before he could walk out, “And don’t worry about it y/n. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad.” At that, he fully left, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone once again. At least he understood.

----

The school had allowed you to take the rest of the week off under the suggestion of Aizawa and Recovery Girl, not wanting a repeat of last time. This time, however, you weren’t allowed to stay holed up in your room, as the class forced you out after school to spend time with them. It was times like this that you really appreciated your friends - they would help comfort you when you started coughing up more flowers, and made it their mission to cheer you up.

The weekend came soon, and Saturday morning you were met once again with Shouto knocking at your door.

“Ready?”

Bouncing on your heels, you tried to relax your panicky brain. You’d be fine. The operation would go by smoothly, and you’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about.

“Yup! Let’s go.”

The trip there was fairly quiet, you were too busy thinking about the possible outcomes of the operation - and of Izuku. It would hurt to lose these feelings for him, as much as you hated them. To suddenly not love someone anymore sounded terrible. But, you’d still be friends - and that was all that mattered.

It didn’t take too long to arrive at the hospital, only about a 30 minute train ride, and soon you were waiting in the doctor’s office to go back. It seemed it was a good day to get the surgery done too, as your breathing had gotten worse and worse by the day. You were nowhere near suffocating quite yet, but another week and you just might be.

“Y/l/n-san, you can come back now.”

You followed the nurse into the back room, Shouto following close behind you.

“So, you got Hanahaki disease, huh? That’s real unlucky, but at least there’s surgery. Now, you do understand that other than the removal of the flowers, we can’t be certain of the actual effect the surgery will have on you mentally.”

“I know, I’ve done a lot of research. Whatever happens, I’m ready.”

The nurse nodded, and smiled at you, “Alright - then just sit down right there and relax. I’ll be back in a minute, and we can get started.”

She left to grab the doctors, and you waited for them to return.

“Are you scared?”

“Just of the uncertainty. I know it’ll work, but I’ve read a bunch of articles on how the whole emotional process can go wrong.”

Shouto sat next to you on the bed, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll go fine.”

It wasn’t too long until the doctors came back into the room, dressed and ready for surgery. Shouto was forced to leave the room, and he promised to be right there when you woke up. Once he was gone, the doctors finished their final preparations and the lead surgeon came to prepare you.

“I’m going to put you under now. Are you ready?”

You nodded shakily - both excited and scared to see what would come.

“Alright, just relax. It’ll be over before you know it.”

He put the mask on your face, and your eyes fluttered shut into a deep sleep.

----

The doctor called Shouto in as soon as you woke up, wanting you to have a familiar face to help adjust while the anaesthesia worked its way out of your system.

“Everything seems to have gone great, the flowers are gone and they’ll live.”

Shouto thanked the doctor, and went into the room. You were still a bit dopey from the anesthesia however, so he let you be, wanting you to rest, and went to call Izuku.

“Shouto! How’d the surgery go? Is y/n okay?”

Shouto couldn’t help but chuckle at Izuku’s enthusiasm. Other than you, Izuku had been the most worried about the surgery - he wouldn’t be able to handle it if something went wrong and he lost you.

“Yes, they’re okay. They’re still waking up, but once the doctor says it’s okay for visitors to come I’ll text you.”

“Ah! I’m so glad! Okay, I’ll bring everyone with me!”

It was a while later when you fully woke up, finally aware of what was going on as you looked around the white room.

“Shouto? What time is it? Did the surgery go alright?”

“Around noon, and yes - you’re perfectly fine. Are you hungry? I can go grab you some food.”

You nodded, having not eaten all day, “Yes please. Oh, and could you grab me my phone? Momo said to call her after the surgery.”

Shouto went to grab your bag and began searching through it for your phone, but decided you’d want to know that your friends would be coming soon as well.

“I’m sure she’ll be coming over soon, Izuku said he’s gonna bring everyone to come visit in a bit”

He expected for you to be happy at the news, but instead your face contorted in confusion, and to Shouto’s horror - you asked, “Who’s Izuku?”

---

As everyone from 1A flooded into the room, you broke out into a bright smile. They all circled around the bed, spouting random comments about how happy they were that you were okay and that the surgery was a success. You excitedly listened to all of them, happy to hear that your friends cared about you so much.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried!”

Izuku, finally being able to push his way through everyone and up to you, had latched himself onto you, throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into a tight hug. However, you began pushing him off of you, not wanting some stranger to be touching you so closely.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Izuku’s eyes widened as you said this - and everyone else in the room turned quiet. Your confused expression as you eyed him carefully further emphasized your seriousness. Why didn’t you remember him?

“I’m… I’m Izuku. Don’t you remember me?”

You gave him an overly kind smile, and Izuku had a glimpse of hope as you seemed to have a revelation, but instead, “Oh! You’re the person Shouto was talking to earlier! Nice to meet you!”

You seemed to recognize everyone else in the room, as you happily turned to Denki who started telling you about something that happened at school to ease the tension.

Confused, Izuku shakily grabbed his boyfriend’s hand - who’s pained expression worried him more - and pulled him to the corner of the room.

“Shouto… what happened? I thought you said the surgery worked.”

He was quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to word the news in a way that Izuku would understand, “Well… It did. Y/n’s cured. But - Hanahaki is such a rare occurrence, doctors don’t know all the technicalities of it yet. They can’t assure results, and sometimes, the patient ends up forgetting about the person they loved all together rather than just losing their feelings.”

Suddenly, Izuku went numb. That would have to mean - that meant you loved him.

You loved him.

It was his fault you went through all that pain.

Flashes of you coughing up blood and petals in class flooded his brain - and the pain on your face as you looked at him - he caused that. And now, he couldn’t even apologize. You had no idea who he was.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

He barely noticed as Shouto pulled him into his chest, and he cried softly. As he looked over Shouto’s shoulder, he saw you laughing happily with the others - a sight that should make him smile.

But all he felt was pain - even though you were right there, he had lost you.

#im ceo of writing bad angst lol #longest fic as of now #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #deku #deku imagine #deku midoriya #deku x reader #4240 words damn

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buffyversefanfiction · 3 years ago

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Slayer of Slayers

Warnings:I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation.

15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft.

M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

PART FIVE LINK HERE

Part Six - What You Left Behind

Theo Frey had confronted his parents Buffy and Angel, fought with them, and even almost killed one of them, but in the end, he could not find himself capable of the kill despite managing many kills before that. If anything, he had thought he would only become more ruthless after becoming a vampire but clearly things were not that straightforward, but could it really be that dying made him more human? No, surely not he thought as he ran out of the backdoor of his former family home only to find himself hit by a shovel to the head, not seeing where it came from, or who was holding the shovel, as everything suddenly went to black…

Ruby Moon, the former best friend of Theo Frey, joined Theo when he first left Riverborn to become a lackey for the deranged vampire Drusilla in a bid to protect her best friend but instead, she too found herself briefly seduced by the darkness, of the magical kind, but as she spiraled further and further into the dark acts she began to see changes within herself she did not like and soon she started to see Theo experience the same changes at the hands of Drusilla and her right-hand guy Tobias. She had tried multiple times to convince Theo to run away with her, but he was in too deep and so the young witch was forced to save herself, leaving her best friend behind, as she returned home to Riverborn to live a relatively normal life which led to her graduating from Riverborn High, going on to college, and marrying her best friend’s former crush Lucien Knight but through all the changes, and developments in her life, she could never shake the guilt of not being able to save Theo from the crutches of Drusilla and Tobias. Her now-husband Lucien Knight’s life was as far from normal as possible going on to join a top-secret government organization run by ex-initiative operative Riley Finn, an organization which unlike the initiative itself worked alongside slayers, witches, and even werewolves to achieve their mission, protect the innocent. Ruby and Lucien’s relationship started out as a friendship formed in the wake of losing Theo but grew over time into something more solid, eventually leading to the two falling in love and getting married, a marriage that nobody saw coming but somehow worked very well for the two of them. “Well, if it is not the witch who loves to ditch…” Theo said as he awoke to find himself chained to Ruby and Lucien’s bed within their bedroom, as the husband and wife stood above him, hovering over him, clearly revealing themselves to be Theo’s kidnappers. “I heard you two got hitched but has the marriage already gone that stale you’ve started chaining folk up to the bed?” “I never ditched you, Theo, I pleaded you to come with me, but you made your choice, you were never going to leave that life because you believed you had nothing left in your old life, but you always had me,” Ruby replied to him, making it clear to her friend that she never left him out of choice. “I never should have left you and for that, I am truly sorry, but I cannot allow you to just keep hurting people especially now you’re a vampire.” “You may have left but you did not leave with clean hands dearest friend, or have you forgotten your own kill count?” Theo responded, taunting the witch who at one stage in his life was his best friend. “And as for the whole vampire thing, am I wearing a sign or something?” “Once you have been around enough vampires you start being able to spot them,” Lucien said, finally breaking his silence and adding something to the hostile conversation. “Drusilla manipulated us both got me so hooked on magic I could not think straight but your drug of choice was vengeance, towards people she wanted you to hate, and you did everything she said,” Ruby argued with Theo, before going on to say. “I also know you still have a soul somehow which means despite all the odds, all she did to you, to us, that you are still able to be saved.” “Listen love if your conscience stopped you from getting dirty with the big players that are on you and nobody else but do not go blaming one vamp for your miserable life which includes marrying my sloppy seconds.” Theo cruelly mocked his former friend, as well as her marriage to his former lover. “You are not the guy I grew up with, you stopped being him the day your parents died but that does not mean you cannot ever be him again,” Ruby responded, refusing to react to his attempts to infuriate her. “I know you better than everyone, including those vampires who you claim as family…and I know somewhere deep down you are still a good person.” “And if you prove us wrong…if you really are too gone to be saved…then before the day is over, I’ll slam open those curtains and watch you burn

until there is nothing left on that bed except for your ashes.” Lucien warned the vampire, making it clear that he was ready to save or kill him.

Buffy sat on the doorstep of her son Theo’s adoptive family home, the place he grew up, as she remained shaken by her first meeting with her son, the hatred he had for her, the fact he was now undead just like his father, and the opportunity he had to take her out and was not unable but unwilling which meant despite all the darkness residing within her son there was still some light in there somewhere. “There’s no sign of him anywhere my guess is he’s hiding out while the sun is out who knows maybe he will come back tonight,” Willow said to Buffy as she sat down on the doorstep next to her friend. “I do not think he’s coming back, not again, the only reason we found him this time is that he wanted to be found and something tells me he may never want to be found by us again,” Buffy replied with a saddened sigh, speaking for the first time since her confrontation with her son. “I will find him, Buffy!” Willow promised the slayer, making it clear she was not giving up on Buffy’s son anytime soon. “I do not know when or where but I promise you I will not stop until I find and help him, the proper way this time with no slayer prisons.” “I hope your right Will, I hope we can get through to him, but what if we can’t?” Buffy cried, feeling defeated not only by her son’s hatred towards her but the guilt she felt for the tragic life he lived without her being there to protect him. “I wonder if he came back here for any other reasons, I mean he grew up in this town, right? I know his parents are dead but what about other family members? Or friends he may have grown up with? We should go to the High School, wait till night-time, of course, break-in, and hack into the school system to find out what year he was in, who he was in with, and possibly look for some old files, photos, or perhaps a yearbook to see who his people were.” Willow suggested, hoping to give Buffy hope. “At the very least you’ll get to learn more about your son before his world got torn apart and maybe there’s something in that information which could help us help him in the long run.” Buffy’s face lit up for a moment as she wiped the tears off her face, realizing that Willow’s idea was a stroke of genius, that maybe just maybe learning more about Theo’s life before everything went to hell, that maybe it would help her understand her son more perhaps even get through to him, or who knows to find somebody within this smalltown who could get through to her son.

“I guess a lot has changed since our days in High School judging by the fact you have a vampire shackled to a dead and it seems normal to you,” Theo said to Lucien, as the vampire remained chained to Lucien and Ruby’s bed within their bedroom, as he began plotting his escape as he noticed the sun starting to set. “After you left town with Ruby everyone just assumed you went crazy and killed your parents, then this team of specialists took over the case, and before I knew it, I found myself embroiled in the mystery of it all leading to the supernatural being my day-to-day job I guess,” Lucien replied to the vampire he once loved. “I joined a private organization specialized in working with, helping, and hunting the supernatural from time to time, by the time the whole world had realized what the hell was going on around us I was already working to help solve the problem…problems.” “One could say you chased after me and settled for the rest of the supernatural…and that is clearly not all you settled for…” Theo teased the first man he ever loved, before going on to ask. “Do you remember the last time we were together?” “You mean when you asked me to skip town with you? It’s not something someone easily forgets.” Lucien admitted reluctantly, piquing Theo’s curiosity. “Do you ever wish you came with me?” Theo asked, intrigued to know the answer. “No!” Lucien answered honestly. “But I do wish I found a way of making you stay…” “Probably a good thing you did not join the party you probably would have just wound up addicted to the magics like Ruby or a soulless vampire like the rest of the gang,” Theo told Lucien, before going on to say. “I know you did not take a vamp hostage without getting in some blood…and I’ve not eaten in a while…do not worry I won’t bite, as long as it’s not pig blood you’re serving.” And just like that Lucien went downstairs towards the kitchen to get fresh blood in a pouch bag from the local hospital that Ruby and he acquired before abducting Theo, and began pouring the blood into a glass, knowing Ruby said not to feed him until she got back, but foolishly believing he was getting through to his ex, which is of course exactly what Theo wanted him to believe. Lucien returned to the bedroom, a glass of blood in hand, ready to feed Theo, unwittingly becoming prey to the predator, as he reached out to hand Theo the glass, Theo grabbed a hold of him and pulled him into his grasp with all his force, Lucien unable to break free from the vampire’s hold. “You smell as good as you did back then!” Theo stated as his face turned into full vampire mode and he sunk his teeth into his ex-lover’s neck, draining him of his blood but cautious not to take too much, after all, Lucien was his leverage for his latest prison break.

Elsewhere in Riverborn, Buffy, Angel, and Willow had waited for the sun to go down before breaking into Riverborn High School, specifically the principal’s office, as the slayer and vampire worked their way through endless files within filing cabinets while leaving the computer hacking to the tech-savvy witch who was more than willing to hack or spell her way into gathering as much information about Theo Frey as possible. “Well, I’m in the records regarding his grades before dropping out and they’re quite impressive, not like Willow Rosenberg impressive but not far off either, perhaps he would’ve got there if he finished school,” Willow informed Buffy and Angel as they continued searching through the school files. “I’m going to load up reports, detentions, warnings, etc.… to see if there is anything about who his circle was, and if not, thankfully the yearbooks are now all online these days so that should show us actual pictures of his friends…if he had any that is.” “Can you print out any pictures you find of him?” Angel asked the red-headed witch nervously. “I know it may sound weird, but I have hardly any pictures of Connor before everything…it’d be nice to have some of Theo, even one picture.” “Of course, the minute I get to viewing I’ll get to printing!” Willow replied awkwardly, knowing she was partially to blame for Angel not seeing his son Theo grow up over the years. “Print me out some copies too!” Buffy said with a sense of sadness, knowing pictures were all she could ever have of her son’s past even if it would never make up for all the time, she had lost with him.

Meanwhile, back at Ruby Moon and Lucien Knight’s marital home, Ruby had just walked into the horrifying scene of a shackled Theo in full vampire face, strangling an unconscious Lucien, with bite marks on the victim’s neck, as Theo held his neck tightly with both hands, ready to snap his ex’s neck if Ruby so much as made one single move wrong. “Girl, he was all fine and funky for our teenage selves but we’re playing in the big games now and humans are just so fragile and expendable.” Theo taunted his former friend, as he applied more pressure on an unconscious Lucien’s neck. “But that does make awfully good cannon fodder…” “Please do not hurt him, Theo!” Ruby pleaded with the slayer of slayers turned vampire. “You do not want to hurt him!” “Maybe I do or maybe you want me to, after all, what kind of wife does not take the husband’s name and I know we’re all modern now, but he did not take your name either,” Theo responded knowing he had the brown-haired witch exactly where he wanted her. “But what would I know about marriage? All I know is you’re about to be a widow if you do not get these chains off me right now.” “If I do let you go what’s going to stop you from killing him anyway and then me?” Ruby asked him, knowing the chance of either her or her husband surviving this ordeal was rather slim. “You can either choose to believe there is still enough humanity in me to not kill my former best friend, enough to stop me killing a man I once love, or believe me to be the monster I truly am,” Theo stated before chuckling sinisterly. “Not like you really have a choice…” A choice Ruby did not have, she’d either not free Theo and watch him kill her husband, or free him and hope he does not kill them both, and so she released Theo from his chains and to her surprise, the vampire just left, without attacking, or threatening her, he just walked down the stairs, out the house, and out of sight, without any intention of bringing her any harm, and whether he meant to or not at that moment he had convinced the witch that now more than ever her best friend was still in there somewhere, and perhaps just perhaps, she had grown a little closer to bringing him back.

Following breaking into Riverborn High, Buffy, Angel, and Willow had discovered some more information about Buffy and Angel’s son Theo, learning he was quite the academic achiever, never missed class until he dropped out that is and was always with his friend Ruby Moon, who just so happened to go missing the same time as Theo, the difference being that Ruby returned to Riverborn less than a year later. With their new information, Buffy and Willow waited until the next morning to track Ruby down, hoping she had more information about Theo, or even hoping he had reached out to her after returning to his hometown, not realizing they had missed Theo himself by a matter of a few hours. “I’m not saying this friend is going to be the answers to all our problems but at least she is going to provide answers in general about your killer kid.” Willow tried to reassure Buffy as she knocked on the door of Ruby and Lucien’s front door. “If she’s willing to speak to us that is,” Buffy replied as Lucien opened his front door to the vampire slayer, and witch. “Willow Rosenberg, my wife is a huge fan of yours.” Lucien greeted them, instantly making it clear he knew who Willow was, before going on to say. “And I’m guessing by your blonde-haired companion that your Buffy Summers.” “I guess the government constantly trying to hunt us down makes us kind of famous everywhere now,” Willow said, surprised by the stranger’s sudden knowledge of her and Buffy, remembering how much things had changed for them both in recent years. “I work for Riley Finn; he talks highly of you both,” Lucien admitted to them both. “I do not think I’m supposed to say who I work for but oh well you are friends of his, so I hope that saves me from being fired.” “Talking of your wife being such a fan, is she in we kind of need to talk to her about a certain situation.” Willow wondered, eager to get to Ruby and get some answers for Buffy and Angel. “My wife is going to be super pissed she missed you, but she’s gone out of town…” Lucien began to explain as Buffy noticed the bite marks on her neck, assuming correctly that Theo had left his mark. “He’s been here, hasn’t he? Theo Frey, the slayer of slayers, and now newly turned vampire.” Buffy questioned him knowing she was getting somewhere. “We are looking for him and if you have any leads…” “I was worried that one day he pissed off the wrong slayer…I’m sorry Buffy I really because trust me after him taking a chunk out of my neck and getting my wife into all sorts of trouble I would happily hand him over to you but my wife’s convinced she can get through to him so I can’t be the one to get him killed, she would never forgive me.” Lucien apologized, assuming that Buffy and Willow were there to kill the slayer-turned vampire. “I do not want to kill him I want to stop him from killing others,” Buffy replied urgently. “Please, he’s my son I just want to help save him from himself before it’s too late.” “Hold up…Theo Frey is Buffy the vampire slayer’s son? I mean we all knew he was adopted but his birth mother being the legend herself.” Lucien responded looking gobsmacked by Buffy’s revelation. “Yeah, she’s his mum and Angel’s his dad but right now all we need from you is to tell us where he’s heading so we can safe your wife from being his latest target and hopefully save him too.” Willow snapped at Lucien, making it clear he had to tell them all he knew. “Where is he going?” “Back to where he considers home or that’s at least what Ruby reckons, back to the city of angels so to speak,” Lucien revealed to them both, as the slayer, and witch realized Theo had gone back to the last place he considered himself happy, the demonic dive bar he had with his recently dead lover Tobias.

Several days later, a determined Ruby walked into the infamous demonic dive bar located within a shady alleyway somewhere in the city of Los Angeles, stunned to see the place almost in ruins, having been wrecked during Theo’s showdown with Faith and not being fixed since. She looked around at the place she knew Theo would have loved running especially with Tobias and for a moment she felt saddened by Tobias’ death, not because she felt sorry for the vampire himself but because she knew how much Theo loved him, and how rare it was for Theo to care about anyone especially after the death of his parents. “I personally never got the appeal of Tobias; I mean he was painfully beautiful of course but other than that I really did not get it,” Ruby claimed as she found Theo staring into thin air, sitting at a corner table of the bar looking somewhat defeated. “But I get he meant something to you and for that, I am truly sorry.” “Listen, witch, I gave you a free pass for old times sake but if you are going to keep pestering me, I’m going to have to kill you,” Theo replied to his friend as he turned to look at her, his eyes clearly red raw from crying. “Have you ever wondered how Drusilla randomly just showed randomly show up into our lives the same night your parents were mysteriously murdered by a vampire? Does not take a genius to figure out she’s your parents’ killer and something tells me deep down you already know that.” Ruby replied to the vampire, revealing to him what she already believed he knew and just did not want to admit. “Do you not think that thought crossed my mind a hundred times?” Theo snapped at the witch, as he rose from his chair furiously. “Dru said she saw it coming and did not stop it which was a hard pill to swallow but I did…but Tobias promised me that she never took their lives and I believe in him more than I’ve ever believed in anyone.” “Well, your undead lover not only lied to you about Dru killing your mother but according to strong evidence from a corporation who specializes in the supernatural he may have killed your father or at least knows the vamp who teamed up with Drusilla to take out your parents,” Ruby confessed to the slayer of slayers, refusing to let him be in denial any longer. “Face facts Theo if your parents never died then you would never have run off with them and they knew it! I get you to want vengeance so how about you get it on the bitch who really deserves it?”

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years ago

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Beauty Chooses II-Chapter Six

A Special thanks to @statell for your help and wisdom

Previous Chapters at AO3

Chapter Six-Remember Me

I rubbed my sore shoulders and whimpered with the pain. I don’t know why I was so keen on shooting a gun in the first place. I was obviously too small, too weak, or too something. I walked to the barn knowing Jamie would ask me if I did my exercises. If I did two or three lifts, I could tell him I succeeded. I sat on the ground and pulled the rope attached to a sack of grain and then pulled with all my might until it lifted off the ground. The rope was thrown over a board in the roof and it didn’t like to move. Maybe two more.

“Ah Sassenach, I am impressed with your dedication.”

“Finished!”

Jamie helped me up and hugged me close until he heard me wince. He held me at arms distance so he could look at me.

“Sassenach, you need not do your lifts every day. Give yer muscles time to heal in between, otherwise, ye wilna get any stronger.”

“I know, that's what you told me to do but it will take too long and now I am so sore I can barely hold Faith.”

“Mo chridhe, yer so sweet and verra sexy,” he growled into her ear. “It’s a good day for an afternoon nap.”

“A what?”

I stared at him like he had lost his mind. Jamie didn’t nap during the day, ever. He threw me over his shoulder and took the stairs two at a time being quiet in case Faith was sleeping. I was deposited on the bed and felt Jamie’s warm hands remove my boots and stockings before lifting me to remove my jacket, skirts, and the infernal corset. It took so long to get everything off it made me giggle. I still didn’t know what we were doing in bed in the middle of the day. Well, I knew what we were doing but not why since it was very uncommon. Jamie was stripped to his skin in under a minute and laid on his side, holding me close. Our bodies were pressed together from chest to toes. He closed his eyes and silently held me like that for several minutes. Our lovemaking was slow and unhurried, and I softly kissed his face a dozen times as he panted to catch his breath.

He looked at me while we laid in our post-rapture embrace. I could see his mind grinding on something and waited for him to tell me. When he didn’t, I asked what was in his mind. He told me the Jacobites had come upon him in the fields, separating Murtagh behind drawn swords at his throat. He refused to join them again, and warned them of consequences if his godfather suffered a single nick of the blade.

“They laughed at me Sassenach. One of them said I would fight, willingly or otherwise. Then they left. We must go Sassenach. After Hogmanay, plus maybe a month for the weather to become favorable for such a voyage. Be strong love and know I will keep my promise to get us to the new world before the fighting starts.”

He held me close and ran his hand up and down my back. It was a large, strong hand, that I entrusted the life of myself and our daughter to, with absolute faith he would see us safe.

The first time the Jacobites came to the estate there were five of them. They stood with Jamie outside and talked for over an hour. They were mustering and wanted Jamie to join them no doubt. I watched Jamie, for any sign of acquiescence.

It was five months later when they came a second time. I was outside with Faith and Glavia when a dozen men rode up on us. Glavia grabbed Faith and ran into the house and I turned to face them hoping my hatred did not show. I could only point them in Jamie’s direction, and they rode off to find him. That time I could not see Jamie to watch his body language. I could only hope.

When Hogmanay approached, I went the distance to provide an exceptional holiday for my family and the tenants that joined us. Misses Crook and I cooked all week for the celebration and the house was decorated in fine fashion. Jamie was up early cutting wood for fires that would burn bright all day and night. He put a pig and a deer to roast over the firepit outside. I sent Murtagh to the priest’s hole to unearth our silver serving dishes and candle holders. Throughout the day misses Crook and I laid out plates of meat and side dishes, fruit and cakes, sausages and potatoes, cheese and soup. When the house filled it was joyous with dancing and laughter. Our guests were treated to a very special party and Jamie was celebrated all evening.

It was all I could do to keep smiling, knowing this is the last Hogmanay to be celebrated in Scotland. The tenants would lose their laird, their customs, tartans, and all else held dear. It was a very difficult night for me. Faith, the apple of her father’s eye, entertained us until Glavia came for her at bedtime. She hugged Jamie and kissed him goodnight and I followed them upstairs.

“Glavia, why don’t you put a pretty dress on and go downstairs for a while. I will take care of Faith and stay right by her side.”

Glavia blushed and dropped her head shaking it side to side. She pulled Faith out of my arms and insisted I go back to the party. I listened to the joyous laughter below and fought back the tears wishing we were already on a ship to the new world. The battle of Culloden Moore was but four months away giving me good reason to fear.

When our last guest was out the door, I quickly sent misses Crook to bed and went looking for Jamie who was last seen in the dooryard with one of the tenants he grew up with. I found them in the barn, drunk off their collective asses, playing some kind of game.

“What are you two doing may I ask?”

“Ah, my beautiful Sassenach! Come my gorgeous darling. We are playing a wee game.”

“Well, the party is over and I am going to retire. How is this game played anyway?”

“One of us draws a line in the dirt, the other tries to throw somethin over the line. It’s so fun, ye want to try Sassy?”

“Certainly not. Goodnight gentlemen.”

By the state of their inebriation, I anticipated finding two very cold Highlanders passed out in the barn by morning. I went to our room to write a note for Joe. He was on my mind all evening and I wanted to wish him well. I wouldn’t know if he ever got back to Scotland and Lallybroch to see my note, but I hoped he did.

My sweet Joe, I am thrilled you come back to see my notes. I miss you and Baritone. I gave birth to Faith Ellen Fraser on January 5th, 1744. She is beautiful, healthy and strong. We have an idyllic life here without airplanes overhead or commuter traffic. Mostly, I love Jamie with every fiber of my being, so I belong here. The Jacobites are mustering troops and there is nothing I can do to stop it. We are leaving for America before the battle and I will watch Jamie’s heartbreak as he leaves his homeland. Master Raymond left me a stone that would transport me through time and worlds. Jamie threw it into a gorge, and it was never seen again. I wish I still had the stone. I have a sick feeling about escaping Scotland and wish we had a safe alternative. You start your residency this year! How very exciting. I will be thinking of you and all you will do. Love Claire

I set the note in Jamie’s hiding place and went to bed. I dreamed of sailing on a large ship seeing a beautiful green landmass ahead. I said a prayer for Jamie asking God to keep him strong and safe.

When I breezed through the kitchen the next morning it was obvious my prayer would have to wait for Jamie’s hangover to resolve as he looked anything but strong and safe today. I kissed his temple and he lifted his head an inch before dropping it back down over his plate. I poured him a whisky and announced, hair of the dog, before tipping the glass and liquid into his mouth. It seemed to help for a minute of two before he ran for a chamber pot emerging white-faced and slick with sweat.

I helped him up the stairs to our room and pulled his clothes off. He didn’t fight me, so I knew he was really feeling sick. Once he passed out, I returned to the kitchen to help with the cleanup. Out the window I could see snow whipping off the ground into spirals and sheets and moved to the door to peek outside. It was bitter cold, and I closed the door quickly.

I pulled my cloak around me with several scarves and gloves and pulled Jamie’s knit had over my head and ears.

“What’s got into ye Misses? Ye canna go outside today, it’s too cold!”

“I’ll be alright, but I cannot say the same for the animals without extra bedding. Has anyone seen Murtagh?”

“Aye, he looks worse than the Laird.”

I rolled my eyes and bravely walked outside closing the door quickly behind me. It was face-freezing cold, and I struggled to the barn hoping for a warm interior. What I saw was the plume of vaper as each animal exhaled and felt no warmth compared to outside. Something had to be done or these poor animals would freeze to death. There was a stone circle about two feet high and I wondered if it was used for fire to warm the barn during harsh weather. I dragged a stick through the dirt at the bottom and uncovered ashes and burnt pieces of wood. Running inside the house I gathered an armful of wood running back to start a life-saving fire.

How, I wondered, did they vent such an indoor fire. Running my eyes along the ceiling I saw a string ran along the slope and was tacked to the side of the barn. When I pulled the string a section of the roof popped open and it was directly above the fire pit. I was feeling like a hero when I lit the kindling to set the logs ablaze and clapped my hands at the radiating heat. What I didn’t anticipate were the embers that shot out from the popping wood sending little fireballs into the air.

I panicked, racing around the barn looking for something to contain the embers. I was ready to wake Jamie up for help when I spotted a metal disk laying atop a barrel. I grabbed each side and pulled until I was panting from the effort. I managed to move it only an inch and decided to push it off the barrel to the ground and then move it by lifting one end and tipping it over. By the time the disk was next to the fire pit, there were no more embers because the fire was long cold. I guessed I pushed that round metal for at least an hour. It was time to recruit help.

“Misses Crook, I need your assistance in the barn.”

“What have ye done to yerself Misses!”

“What?”

“Yer hands and face, they’re all black!”

By the looks of her, Misses Crook was going to faint right in front of me. I rushed to her promising I was alright. It was just soot and I was fine. I held out her cloak and bundled her up with scarves and a hat before pulling her outside to the barn. It seemed the temperature was falling if that were possible. I explained my intention to lift the disk on top of the fire pit to hold the embers leaving enough open space to fan the fire. I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, so I urged the older woman to dig deep for strength. We each took a side and heaved the disk upward to rest on the stones above the fire. I was so excited and jumped up and down realizing I had no feeling in my toes.

I pushed Misses Crook out of the barn and promised I would be fine. In reality, I was dangerously close to freezing my fingers straight through, so I worked fast. I build another fire, twice the size leaving two inches to fan oxygen into the pit. I could fan and knock down any embers that snuck out of the opening. I was so intent on what I was doing I didn’t notice the interior of the barn warming up until I suddenly felt my fingers again. As I continued fanning and chasing embers, I started to sweat and rubbed the beads off my forehead, leaving a black greasy smudge that I was unaware of.

When the fire had burned the logs into glowing beds of warmth, I turned my attention to feeding and building up the bedding in each stall. The grain was the easy part. I took the large forked shovel and walked it, heaping with straw to the closest stall. When I swung it into the air the shovel was empty and fallen straw made a path where I walked. I tried several times to use the shovel, finally setting it aside to grab heaping armfuls of straw to throw into the stalls. Donus looked at me like he was afraid, and Brimstone leaned against her stall door to watch me. The goats were unimpressed and laid down for a warm winter nap.

Next, I had to bring water for each of them and I pumped until my arm felt like it would fall off, but no water came out. I ran back into the barn when I could no longer feel my face and threw more logs into the pit after shoving the disk farther back to make room. In minutes the fire was blazing again, and I dashed to replace the cover and bat at the escaping embers. I picked up the matted hay I used for a fan and kept the fire going.

I was exhausted. I wondered how many hours I was out here but felt so happy I saved the animals. My body dropped to the ground and I leaned against the warm stones of the fire pit. It finally occurred to me why they built the sides up with two feet of stone. The fire made them hot so they would radiate heat for hours after. Very smart. The fire wasn’t shooting embers any longer, so I closed my eyes to rest for just a minute.

I heard the barn door open and Jamie calling me. I barely woke up when the door closed, and the shouting stopped. I leaned against the warm stone and closed my eyes. What seemed like seconds later Jamie was hoisting me up stammering about my black face.

“Are ye hurt Sassenach? Yer covered in soot, how did this happen?”

I was delighted to see him and smiled brightly causing Jamie to lose it completely. He bent over holding his stomach and every time he looked at me the laughter started anew. I wanted to show him all that I had done but he couldn’t stop laughing long enough.

“Well, while you wet yourself laughing at me, I’m going to get water.”

I grabbed a bucket and made for the door to try the pump again, but Jamie stopped me. He grabbed four buckets and filled them with snow, right outside the barn door, and then hung a bucket in each stall.

“That will melt straight away since ye got it so warm in here. Yer the most beautiful mess I have e’er seen, lass. Thank ye for takin charge today.”

I could see he was biting the inside of his cheek to stem his laughter and his eyes watered with the pain. I followed his gaze around the barn and saw the upended barrel, straw littered all over the floor, and straw sticking out of each stall. I glanced at my warm hands and recoiled in horror. They were black on both sides up to my forearm. I looked at Jamie while a whimper escaped, and I held my hands up.

“Come lass. Let’s get ye cleaned up.”

Jamie wrapped my multiple scarves around my face and neck and pulled my arm into the crook of his elbow like I might blow away. Strange since we were so close to the kitchen door. He checked the glowing logs and pulled the disk completely over the fire pit. When we closed the barn behind us, I started for the kitchen and felt Jamie pulling me in another direction. The snow was shooting into our faces from the wind and I was decidedly uncomfortable until he pulled me into the back door and down the steps to the room at the back of the house.

“It’s warm here because all the chimneys run down this wall.”

He pushed me to sit on the stairs and promised he would be right back. It might be warm, but it was also black as pitch and my comfort level had plummeted. Jamie was back in five minutes with a basket full of hot, wet towels and a hand mirror. He pulled me to the outside door and opened it long enough for me to see my black, sooty face. I started to giggle, especially when I smiled and my bright white teeth were suddenly visible. The more I looked the more I laughed, and Jamie was right with me.

Once composed, Jamie pulled the towels out and wiped them on my face and arms. We needed the door cracked for light, but he worked fast, dropping the black towels once they were used up. I was shaking from the contrasting cold coming through the door and the hot towels on my face and arms. My teeth started chattering and Jamie abandoned his mission to carry me upstairs. My cloak was removed and Misses Crook handed me a towel after towel, pointing to places I missed.

It all seemed to catch up with me. The laborious afternoon in the cold barn, heaving straw, moving the disk inch by inch, pumping the water, and then scraping the soot off my skin. Again, I was lifted into Jamie’s arms and carried upstairs. Each piece of clothing was carefully removed and dropped into a basket on the floor. Jamie looked me over, front and back, declaring me clean. I was never so grateful to be crawling into bed until I stopped, frozen mid-crawl, hearing Faith cry. I looked down at my dripping nipples knowing they were painfully engorged but lacking the strength to get Faith. Jamie was out the door, so I pressed into the bank of pillows he had stacked against the headboard. I felt Faith lay across my stomach and latch onto the closest nipple.

“Ye didna want to wake me Sassenach, so you used yer incredible brain to figure out the fire pit and how it worked, and incredible brawn to get the work done.”

He squeezed my sore muscles as he spoke until Faith grabbed his hand and pushed it away. She didn’t like to be disturbed when she was nursing, and Jamie and I laughed at her territorialism. Any other time she was her da’s girl but not now. Jamie leaned against the headboard and kissed my neck before pulling me with a suckling Faith against his chest.

“Close yer eyes my beauty and rest in my arms.”

I thought about what Jenny told me so long ago. It’s a beautiful life in this century with plenty of hard, backbreaking work, and an abundance of time to love and reflect. Our lives are full of genuine people who know who they are, and what their purpose is. I never hear anyone say ‘why am I here? What is my mission in life? How can I feel fulfilled? No one is board, no one is addicted, no one is depressed for no reason. When I tell Jamie about the future, he crinkles his brow over the internet and the television. The wonders of these distractions are lost on him. Rather, he can watch his daughter nurse for thirty minutes and never move a muscle.

Jamie powers through his day like he is on high octane fuel and then sits on a hay bale to talk with a tenant who needs his attention. He’s never short with them but gives his full attention and lets them talk until they choose to leave, then he goes back to his task. It’s amazing to watch because I have never seen the same in my century. I wish I could write a book about the staggering differences between the centuries. Maybe people would turn off their television and push away from the computer, spend more time with neighbors in helpful pursuits, spend more quiet time in their head so they quit looking outside themselves to define who they are. If it required returning to my own time to give this book to the people I wanted no part of it. My heart would burn for Scotland and this beautiful life. I could think of nothing I would risk going back for and settled into my nap feeling warm and loved.

In mid-February, I laid in the dark with Jamie and asked the question that burned daily in my brain; when do we leave for the new world? We spoke quietly and Jamie instructed me to pack a trunk for each of us and be ready to leave as soon as passage could be secured. I kissed him over and over again, crying with my relief. Murtagh would secure our passage and he was leaving for the docks the next day.

Jamie had an Aunt in North Carolina and he had received word from her that we were all welcome and she would pray us safe to our new home. I could see Jamie’s heart breaking and I held him to me as often as possible. He spent more time outside on the property and I would find him watching the sunset, alone, with his sadness. I told him we would come back after a time and regain our wonderful life atLallybroch. Sometimes it was enough to lift his spirits and sometimes it wasn’t.

Snow covered the land until late February, and I was finally able to get through the trail to the bottom of the gorge. I searched for the blue rock for as long as I dared before returning home disappointed. Murtagh made his third trip to the docks as he had been unsuccessful so far. Again he returned empty-handed and my worry was blooming into a continuous panic. All of the treasures from the house were buried in the priest hole and the trunks were packed and ready. The voyage to America was a dangerous journey with sickness and treachery. If a mother got sick during the passage; she was thrown over and her children followed. This added another layer of fear to my days. I didn’t care. I just wanted Jamie on a ship sailing away from Scotland and I hardly cared the direction.

Jamie visited each tenant’s home and spoke with the family about the coming war and what was likely to happen after. He left their homes with the women crying and the men pacing. It was very unpleasant, and he would cling to me that night and claim my body to help him forget.

One day in early March, Jamie kissed me and left for his chores. It was a lovely day and I dressed Faith in warm clothes, and we spent some time outside in the fresh air. I helped Misses Crook in the garden preparing for seed we would never see sprout and I worried like I did every day.

Once again, Murtagh returned with no passage booked for us and I excused myself to fall apart in our room. I cried until I noticed the light waning and ran to the window to look for Jamie. Where was he? It was long past his usual time to get home and the sun was setting fast. I paced in our room until Misses Crook knocked on the door.

“Should I hold dinner for the Laird, Misses?”

“No, let’s go ahead and eat. Leave the pot on the fire to stay warm for Jamie.”

I needed the feeling of normalcy tonight to keep my hysterics at bay. I will feel much better when I see my husband and then we start again tomorrow looking for a ship.

Murtagh had searched the fields for Jamie and came back freezing. I searched his eyes and he nodded side to side while I collapsed in a chair. Where are you, Jamie? Are you hurt? Please come home, I prayed. By ten o’clock there was no sign of Jamie and my tears were uncontrollable. I sent everyone to bed and stoked the fire so the house would be warm when Jamie came home.

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justanotherlifeff · 4 years ago

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My type of love

Warnings: Reader has yandereish tendencies, mentions of stalking, depressed reader with suicidal tendencies

Before you found your way into the villain league, you wanted to die. Honestly, what good came out of living anyway? You were always a quiet person ever since you were a child, always on the sidelines. Back in middle school, you were that girl who always sat at the corner at the class without being noticed by anyone. You were that one weirdo that no one wanted to talk to. Your parents weren’t bad. Infact, they were quite good. Atleast you thought your family was perfect at that time. Your mother and father seemed to love you. Sure, you were an only child and you were lonely both at home and school but it was all okay. You were happy. That was until your quirk showed up. Your quirk allowed you to give bad luck to anyone you touched with five fingers of your hand. Infact, their luck would be so bad that they would die somehow in the next one hour. You were already the weirdo at school and now, no one wanted to be around you. Saying that you were careful would be an understatement. You didn’t want to hurt others and you separated yourself from society, from your parents. A part of you thought that atleast your parents would try to get back to being involved in your life but that never happened. After all, your quirk killed a few of your classmates when it appeared. However, your desire to keep everyone out of your life came to an end when you fell in love with a guy. You were in Junior high and he was a transfer student. He didn’t judge you and the two of you started dating. That was until you found yourself checking his chat history when he left his phone with you to go to the washroom on a certain date. You knew you were violating his privacy but you just couldn’t help it. Your parents were completely disconnected with your life because of your quirk and you had doubts about why your boyfriend would be any different. Turns out that you were right. He was cheating on you. That one time lead to your downward spiral towards extreme trust issues and insecurities. You had seven breakups in a span of three years. At the end, when you finally turned 18 and your recent ex left you because you couldn’t bring yourself to trust him, you had enough. You believed that your quirk made you unlucky, you believed you weren’t good enough for anyone. Your ex told you that the way you love people was toxic and that was one thing that you didn't believe. Why was it wrong to know exactly where your loved one is at all time? Why was it wrong to know who he's talking to and what he's talking about? Why was it wrong to keep a control on who gets to be his friends and who doesn’t? You never had friends and gave him all your time so why couldn’t he do the same for you? You did all that because you cared so why didn't he understand you?

When he left you, you ran away from home. You were done. You knew that this life wouldn’t give you anything. You just wanted to die in the streets. That's when you came across a 16 year old girl named Himiko Toga on the streets. She was a vigilante and was on the run and let's just say, you touched the police that were chasing her and they died in a car crash immediately. Toga was 2 years younger than you are (you're 18) but she seemed to find the way you love normal. She had an abnormal way of loving people as well. "I don't think it's wrong of you to know everything about your lover, (Y/N)! You're just so cute! I didn’t think I'll ever find someone like me! We can be besties! You know, I like killing people I love!" Toga exclaimed to you. That's when you made your first friend. You were sure that you would stay away from love in fear of rejection or being left until you were taken into the league of villains with your best friend. The burning crimson eyes of the boss caught your attention on the first day. You couldn't help but admire his low drawling voice that was tired of the world because you could relate.

You were always used to being on the sidelines, away from attention but Shigaraki wouldn’t have it. He had an interest in your quirk as it meant like him, you couldn't touch anything with all five fingers. He understood how hard your life must've been and he decided to be kinder to you than the others since you were relatable. He didn’t know what that was doing to your feelings. You were on a high, you couldn't explain how happy it made you. You didn't have the courage to confess to Shigaraki but you knew you'd die for him. You were absolutely smitten and like usual, that wasn’t going to end up well. If Shigaraki thought he had privacy, he was wrong. You made sure that you knew everything about him. You checked his phone when he was busy with games, you had figured out all his passwords of any social media account he had, you followed him everywhere he went to (mostly without him knowing), you even had pictures of him sleeping when you sneaked into his room to get some. Honestly, it was all going well till he decided to recruit another female villain. One who decided that it would be a good idea to hit on Shigaraki.

While Shigaraki did give you more preference over the other members of the villain league, you were always this quiet girl who minded her own business. Honestly, he was intrigued at the begining because you barely shared anything about yourself, almost like you had a double life. He made sure that you weren’t a spy from the heroes by doing some digging but your extreme quietness was something he found odd, specially for someone who was friends with Toga. However, that personality seemed to change drastically when he recruited the villain Killer Queen (Yes, it's a Jojo reference). Shigaraki knew that Killer Queen clearly had a thing for him and while he clearly wasn’t interested in her, he sure was interested in the sudden change of attitude that came over you. Suddenly, you were like a feral cat, ready to pounce on her. You tried to convince Shigaraki to kick her out way too many times and you always threw passive agressive insults and death threats at her. Shigaraki never saw you throw a death threat before and he had to admit it was kinda hot.

The ship had sailed when Killer Queen thought it was a brilliant idea to kiss Shigaraki on the cheek out of nowhere. Infact, even Shigaraki was surprised and disgusted by that. Without a warning, you held her hand, looking at her with a sadistic grin. She was confused at first before realising that all your fingers were touching her. The realisation gave her a heart attack. As the woman laid dead before you and Shigaraki as the two of you were in the bar, Shigaraki looked at you, raising an eyebrow which made you realise that your feelings for him or atleast, your jealousy was obvious. "I couldn't take that... I love you and I hate it when anyone thinks they can take away who I love. I've.... I've let a lot of people walk away from me and I felt guilty about not being good enough but it doesn't matter anymore. I'm not going to let anyone else have you even if you don't want me. I know it's wrong but I can't help it." you muttered, looking away from Shigaraki as tears escaped your eyes. "Who said anything about it being wrong? I just saw a badass girl who has the right to be the player 2 of my life cause she just killed a bitch over me. You're fucking cool and honestly, the way you tried to keep her away was hot." Shigaraki answered with a grin making you look at him, completely shocked.

"You... You don't hate me for killing a member of the league? You don't think the way I love people is wrong?" you stammered, looking at him, awestruck. "Tch... Why the fuck do you think I'm a villain? These normal people, they put labels on things that shouldn’t have labels. You fucking get to love someone in any way you want and no one gets to judge that. They need to suck it up instead of using it as an excuse to run from relationships. Plus, I'm kinda similar. Honestly, I love all the pictures you took of me sleeping. I dunno how you can make even me look good..." Shigaraki answered, making you almost choke on your spit. "You know about the pictures?" you asked with wide eyes. "Yeah. I also know that you check my social media and my phone and that you follow me around everywhere. Seriously, why the fuck do you think I'm the boss of this stupid league?" Shigaraki scoffed as you looked away bashfully. Someone finally understood you... "Do... Do you check my stuff too?" you asked shyly. "Can't say I don't. It's fun to see you obsessing over me." Shigaraki gave you a smug grin. "So... Are we like... dating now?" you asked, twiddling your fingers. "I suppose we are..." Shigaraki answered before pulling you into a kiss, the dead body forgotten.

#shigaraki × reader #shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shiggy #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura × reader #shigaraki x you

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milknette · 4 years ago

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day 01 - cafe

i'll make a cup of coffee, with the right amount of sugar.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

MARINETTE doesn't exactly know what makes her answer yes.

Maybe it's from all the overnight shifts she's been taking, or the coffee fumes she's been inhaling daily finally taking a toll on her brain— or maybe it's because he's the most handsome man she's ever seen walk into her cafe (fact: it's most definitely the third reason), but Marinette can't bring herself to say no to him.

And as things always come with her, a well-intentioned yes easily snowballs into a mess of epically huge proportions. (Though in her defense, she doesn't know that yet.)

Marinette plasters on a smile directed at the customer. "Of course we do!" She replies, noticing a little too late that her voice is a notch higher than usual. "It's just that we don't— uh, have it now! Out of stock, haha, y'know how restaurants go… well, maybe you don't, but there's this thing called supply and demand, and… I mean, I don't want to assume you're dumb or anything— in fact, you're probably a lot smarter than me I went to a fashion university, can you believe that? Like, I went abroad and everything. I learned a lot then, but—"

Horrified that she was tripping over her words, Marinette inhales deeply, then wills herself to stop talking. "— so, anyway! We'll probably have it in stock some time soon, so come back then, okay? I'll have a piping hot coffee ready for you to drink with those pretty lips of y— I mean! Maybe I could call you when you can stop by?"

Marinette only has a moment to reflect on how suggestive that may sound before the customer laughs, effectively breaking her thoughts from spiralling any deeper than they already were.

"Sure," he says, and Marinette briefly wonders if love at first sight has more truth to it than others may believe. "Can I have your phone? I'll put in my number."

His voice is smooth and confident, and Marinette feels the burning need to disappear into a puddle. She hands over her phone gingerly, and takes a moment to appreciate his arms as they type away at the screen.

He returns her phone and smiles. "I'm really lucky I stopped by your cafe. I didn't think there was any place in Paris that had it available," the stranger explains. "Even when I was in America, it was already hard to get a hold of. So thank you…"

The stranger pauses, then looks down at her nametag. "Marinette." He nods his head toward her as a gesture of appreciation, then disappears out the door.

The moment he steps out of her cafe, Marinette feels her knees give out and falls to the floor.

And as she always does when she makes a mess of things, she calls her business partner.

"Alya, I may have messed up… again."

ii.

"What the hell is Kopi Luwak coffee?"

It's a valid question, and Marinette has no idea how to answer. After all, she doesn't actually know what it is either. "His order?" She answers back (completely unhelpfully).

Alya sighs, then pinches her forehead. She's the more level-headed one from the two of them, and therefore the one who always has to fix whatever mess Marinette had gotten into at the time. They're at her office— Alya usually handles the more managerial parts of running the business, whereas Marinette is more on the production of food and drinks side — as she inputs the term into the search bar.

The results are quick to show up:

KOPI LUWAK: THE MOST EXPENSIVE COFFEE IN THE WORLD!

Their faces consequently morph into ones of expectant horror. Alya clicks on the link, and has to visibly stop the sudden gasp that escapes her throat. The cost of one cup of coffee ranges from $35 to $100, with a single kilogram of beans worth almost $700.

Marinette almost snatches the mouse from her hand as she quickly scrolls through the article, clinging onto the (very likely futile) hope that it's probably someone's terrible idea for a joke.

Unfortunately, it isn't.

Alya's the first to speak up, and it's a simple question. "Was our customer a millionaire or something?!"

"I don't know!" Marinette responds, panicked. "I mean, if he were it'd make sense why he's so attractive but he never said anything!"

"Why did you say we provided this?! We can't serve hundred-dollar coffee, we're barely paying rent as it is!"

"I know, I know!" Marinette repeats, pulling at her hairs in stress. "I just thought it was some other kind of regular coffee! How was I supposed to know he wanted that?!" She extends both her arms to point at the computer screen, then shakes her head. "Only an insane person would pay that much for a drink!"

Then, a pause. And in a quieter tone: "Why can't I meet normal guys? Is a cute boy too much to ask for?"

Alya rolls her eyes, then suddenly puts her hands on the table. One returns to massaging her forehead. "Okay, Marinette. We can't serve this to him. You'll just have to tell him the truth."

"But I can't do that!" Marinette frowns, as if the very notion of telling the truth is impossible. "He'll find out that I lied to him and he'll hate me and start going to another cafe instead!"

"— then you shouldn't have lied in the first place!" Alya points out, wagging her finger. "It's better to tell him now before he comes here again and finds out for himself!"

Marinette shifts in place, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "Maybe we can find cheaper alternatives somewhere else?" She asks. "I bet if we ask our suppliers, someone's bound to grow those beans—"

"Afraid not, girl," Alya says, turning to look at the computer. "These aren't regular beans. Apparently they're made by—," she suddenly pauses, as her face contorts into one of pure disgust. "Ew!"

"What?" Marinette walks toward the computer and leans over, only to feel the need to gag upon reading what came next: Coffee beans are digested by a civet cat. Their excretions are sold as the rare Kopi Luwak.

"So you mean…" Marinette begins, shivering. "That this coffee is basically… cat poop?"

Alya looks at her solemnly, then nods. "Yup."

At that, they finally burst into laughter— though whether it's from entertainment, the absurdity of the situation, or the realization that she's helpless in securing a date with the stranger, or all of the above, Marinette can't tell at all.

iii.

They agree that Marinette tell the truth to the Cute (And Apparently Rich) Coffee Stranger even though it'll very likely ruin all her chances with him. Nothing is, as Alya says, worth spending hundreds of dollars on cat poop for.

Except that Marinette Dupain-Cheng cannot follow directions.

Instead, she contacts a special supplier internationally and pays almost a thousand dollars total to have a kilogram of the beans at her doorstep not more than a week later. (Marinette finds comfort in knowing that the coffee doesn't smell like actual feces.)

She messages the stranger, who left his contact name as a single coffee emoji:

hey we restocked and are ready to serve tomorrow! can you drop by? :)

The reply is almost instantaneous:

That's great! I'll stop by in the morning. Thank you so much!

Marinette reads and rereads that message until she finally falls asleep.

iv.

For the first time since the history of her business, Marinette doesn't arrive to work late.

She doesn't know exactly what time the Coffee Stranger will arrive, but she knows that she doesn't want to miss when he does. Marinette takes the morning shift (something that all her co-workers were understandably surprised by), and she waits.

Coffee Stranger arrives an hour later.

He greets her good morning, and Marinette short-circuits. She reaches out her hand. “Hi! I'm Marinette!"

He laughs. "I know," he says. "Maybe you don't remember me? I gave you my number. I'm the one who asked for the Kopi Luwak?"

"Sorry. Of course I remember! I could never forget you," she replies— blurting it out, to her complete horror.

Coffee Stranger, thankfully, doesn't look all that bothered. In fact, he looks entertained, more so than anything else. "Great," he responds, the smile still on his face. "Then I'll have that."

Marinette nods, and she gets to work on his coffee. She gets it done quickly (Marinette had practiced making it at home; pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted wonderful), and hands him a perfectly hot cup of coffee. "That'll be… eighty dollars."

She cringes at the cost, but the Coffee Stranger pulls out a hundred dollar bill without hesitance. "Keep the change," he tells her, as he takes a sip. "This is even better than what I've had before! Definitely worth more."

The barista blinks in disbelief. "You really think so?" She asks, to which the stranger enthusiastically nods. Marinette feels her body buzz with joy from the sudden compliment, then she points at the macarons on the counter. "Here," she begins. "It's on the house."

The stranger looks up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Marinette smiles. "It goes great with the coffee," she explains. "I think you'll like the passionfruit flavor. It mixes well with the cat po— the Kopi Luwak."

"Perfect," the stranger responds. "Passionfruit's my favourite flavor!" He grins, then pauses. "And… it's Adrien."

"What?"

Coffee Stranger's eyes go up to meet hers. Green. A forest of green she wouldn't mind getting lost in forever. "My name's Adrien," he says, reaching out his hand to hers. "Nice to meet you.."

Marinette suddenly feels her throat dry. She suddenly forgets that she spent a thousand dollars just to make him happy. It feels worth it.

"Nice to meet you too."

Adrien quickly becomes a regular.

He makes it a point to stop by whenever she's working, sometimes having his coffee to go, and other times staying in to do his work at the cafe. Marinette likes those times the most— and she almost always sneaks in a little macaron or some other snack to help him get through the day. It's small and short exchanges, but they learn more about each other and that's more than enough to make her happy.

She finds out a lot about him. He's kind. He has a sweet tooth. He lives with his best friend, a DJ. He owns a cat. (He clarified, however, that all he does with Plagg's feces is throw it away.) He's rich, but it mostly came as savings from his younger years. He was a teenage model, but nowadays he prefers being the one behind it. (A waste, Marinette thinks, but she respects his decision.) His mom's gone, and he doesn't speak much with his dad. He treasures his friendships more than anything.

Adrien tells her that he treasures their friendship. Marinette's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes when she thinks about how that's all they'll probably be.

She willfully ignores Alya's unimpressed looks and how her bank funds steadily drain into the danger zone.

vi.

At some point, Marinette can't ignore it.

The bank tells her that she can't withdraw anymore, because her funds are almost completely depleted. She paces back and forth her room, visibly stressed. Her current bag of coffee beans would likely last her a few more days— but afterwards, it'll no longer be an option.

Alya says that it's easier to tell the truth.

As per usual, she's right. Marinette promises to herself to talk to Adrien when the coffee's gone completely.

vii.

"I was lying to you."

Marinette decides to be upfront, delivering the statement along with his final cup of coffee.

"What do you mean?" His look is serious, and it's a complete change of pace from how he usually is. It makes her stomach so uncomfortable turns and her knees buckle together in fear.

She sighs. "I was… lying about the coffee." She says it quickly and in one breath, and Adrien's eyebrows knitting together makes it clear that he understood none of it.

"About what?"

"The coffee!" Marinette basically shouts, then pulls him aside as they notice the customers pile in line. Another co-worker takes over, and throws them a concerned glance before focusing on their task completely.

Marinette brings Adrien to one of the empty storerooms, and when they settle, he speaks up. "What do you mean you lied about the coffee?"

"We never sold Kopi Luwak," she explains.

"No," Adrien argues. "That's definitely what I've been drinking, though?"

"Yeah," she replies, shaking her head. "But the cafe doesn't officially sell it. I was taking from my savings to buy the coffee abroad and make it for you." As Marinette says the words aloud, she begins to realise how outlandish the very idea was.

"What did you do that for?"

Marinette frowns to herself. "I guess I just didn't want to disappoint you… or something." Her cheeks redden, and she looks down. "I wanted to see you again too… I didn't want our only meeting to be that one time."

Marinette thinks she hears a hint of laughter, but it disappears so quickly she may have imagined it. "You know," Adrien begins. "If you wanted to see me again, you could've just asked." He smiles at her, but it looks almost sheepish. Adrien scratches his head. "I mean, I was really only ordering coffee so I could keep meeting up with you."

What?

Marinette fumbles over her words. "You… me… meet up?"

Adrien laughs, full-blown now. "Yeah. I thought you were cute. And when I got to know you better, it was just… I couldn't stop myself. I might have caffeine overdose, but I think it's worth it." He turns toward her and wraps his arms around her waist, and Marinette finds a laugh escaping her throat.

"Been having trouble sleeping, then?”

"Haven't slept since the day I met you," he replies. "But I don't mind, because you're a dream come true."

Marinette rolls her eyes at how silly it all is. "That's corny."

"I like to think of myself as a corny jokes and puns connoisseur," he explains teasingly. "Maybe you'll let me tell you more over dinner?"

"How forward of you," Marinette laughs, but nods all the same. "I just have to warn you, I'm broke from all the coffee beans you made me buy."

He smiles. "Then I guess I'll have to pay for all our dates from now on?"

Marinette hums, then grins lightly. "I wouldn't be against that."

"Then it's a deal." He replies, suddenly looking at her directly. "Want to seal it?"

She has a vague idea of where he's going with this, and the smile practically blooms on her face. "Yes."

It doesn't take anymore waiting until he kisses her.

(And she's glad to say that he tastes like roasted coffee beans and a warm fire; not at all like cats or feces or anything of that sort.)

#auyeah2020 #mlauyeahaugust2020 #auyeahaugust #auyeah august #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years ago

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Consequences of Curiosity | HAPtives and Reader (Oneshot)

Prompt: Fantasy

Fandom: The OA

Words: 2076

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote for The OA and I’m missing that show so much right now. Some Elias Rahim x Reader around the end.

You had your theories of what happens after death, but most of them were seen as fantasies or a part of cultural beliefs. Working under Dr. Percy, you realized you were not the only one that wanted to conduct research on such a subject. Yet, you hadn’t realized what lengths he was willing to go to get answers.

He was paying you a generous amount, enough to keep you afloat and support your parents. He knew that. Which was why he threatened to take that money away and make sure that you’re blacklisted from every medical institution he knew if you said a word about the experiments he was conducting. You would have nothing. You would have to start from scratch or find another way to get by.

“It’s our experiment,” he would always emphasize.

You never agreed to any of this. You wanted to only look for those who had near death experiences and interview them, maybe even monitor them to see if there were any side effects. Kidnapping them and subjecting them to a rinse and repeat experiment of drugging them, killing them, monitoring their brain, before putting them back in their glass prison and waiting for them to wake up again, wasn’t what you had planned at all.

Seeing those five people trapped in a giant fish tank with only a thin mattress, pellet food, and a small stream that ran through all five cells for their water and even their bathroom. It was inhumane, and you couldn’t understand why Hap, as he insisted on being called, didn’t see it.

Hap had gone out to meet someone, leaving you alone with his captives. In all honesty with as, essentially, an accomplice, they were your captives as well. With him gone, you made sandwiches for them, similar to the one that Prairie had made for the others. No mayonnaise for Scott, you remembered.

You checked the time, making sure that he won’t be back any time soon, before switching the cameras to the looped feed you recorded when he wasn’t looking. Once you were sure that it was working, you climbed down the spiral stairs. The captives instantly cut off their conversation, turning to the stairs to see you with a plate. Prairie stood up and walked up to the glass wall, blue eyes watching your every move. You were amazed that she had gotten her sight back after her escape attempt, but it was also unnerving to feel her watching you. Like she could see all the things you’ve done, the good and bad.

“I’ve got some actual food,” you announced, dropping off a sandwich for each person. “You don’t have to eat it, but Hap’s not here and I doubt a sandwich would make a difference.”

They all stared at the sandwich skeptically before looking back at you. Only Prairie knelt down to pick up the sandwich, taking a bite out of it without a second thought.

“This is really good,” Prairie said, “Thank you.”

You gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

You saw Homer frown, stooping down for his sandwich and biting into it as well. Rachel, then Renata followed, slowly relaxing when they realized how harmless it was. Scott ignored the sandwich, leaning against the glass wall to glare at you.

“How long are you gonna play good doc, bad doc, huh, Hap? Sending your assistant in to be nice before you kill us again?” Scott yelled at the camera.

“The cameras aren’t recording right now,” you told him, “We have a limited time until Hap gets back, but I want to help you guys.”

“And why the hell do you want to do that?”

“Because I never wanted any of this!” you said, waving at their glass prison, “He’s got something over me and I’m working to get that back and take him down. I’m close, but he keeps things under lock and key. I’m asking you to trust me on this, okay?”

Prairie placed a hand against the glass. “What do we have to do?”

“Really? You can’t trust them!” Scott shouted at her.

She shook her head. “I can feel it. There’s a reason why out of all people, they had ended up working with someone like Hap.”

“I know that there’s something that you’ve seen when you NDE’ed and Hap can see you do those movements. I’ve been making recordings to play on loop to prevent him from seeing too much, but I can only keep it up for so long. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’m going to gather all the data he’d collected, make some travel arrangements, and the next time he’s gone, we’ll have a small time frame to leave this place, turn in evidence against him, and we’ll be as far away as possible.”

Homer nodded. “It’s all we’ve got so far. What do you think, OA?”

Prairie, or the OA, frowned. “We need to try.”

Your plan would work, in theory, but Hap had been growing paranoid as time went on, omitting some details in the data he found. He believed that he and the others weren’t captor and captives, but research partners. His obsession with OA also grew, making you worried for her.

Everything had been turned upside down the day the sheriff came by to check on the cabin. Although, you didn’t get all the notes and data he made, you made due and hoped that whatever you memorized and wrote down, along with footage from some of the experiments and the cameras monitoring their glass prison, would be enough. So, you called the police and tipped them to check up on the cabin.

When the sheriff showed up, Hap gave you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. He turned on rock music to drown out the yelling as he went to speak with the sheriff. You watched as they walked to the side of the cabin and partially out of view. You rushed over to the computer, making sure to bring up the feed of the basement, the sight of your newly made acquaintances made your heart hurt as they screamed and banged on the glass.

You forced yourself to walk away from the screen, jogging downstairs to make it look like you were busy. You nodded over at OA before turning to the rest of the notes that Hap had kept around the basement. If everything goes to plan, the sheriff will see the feed and Hap would finally be dealt with.

Just as you collected all the notes and tucked them into a briefcase, Hap came down the stairs. His eyes were cold as he looked at you before flickering over to his captives.

“Bring out Prairie and Homer,” he said, walking back up.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you opened their cells.

You reached out and gave OA a gentle squeeze on her arm. She sucked in a breath, not being used to skin contact. You snatched your hand away, apologizing again.

Everything that happened after that was like a strange dream. OA and Homer were to heal the sheriff’s wife so the sheriff could make a special arrangement with Hap that would allow him to continue his work. You stood by, Hap making sure you remained in his sights while he and the sheriff waited for OA and Homer to do the movements.

The lights flickered and like the time you had witnessed Scott being brought back to life, you watched as the woman was getting her energy back and began to move again. The sheriff gasped in disbelief, rushing over to the room to see her. Hap stood up, gripping hard on your arm as he dragged you with him, a gun held in his other hand.

He made you watch as he separated Homer and OA once again before they could even touch each other for the first time, then he shot the sheriff and his wife. Your heart fell when you realized that all your planning was for nothing, and now there were two people dead and two people heartbroken. Homer was thrown back in the glass prison while you scrambled to think of an escape plan with OA. Running in an area that you were unfamiliar with won’t do much, as he could catch up with you like he did with OA the last time. Then again, she was blind that time.

When Hap came back upstairs, you tried to jump him with a frying pan. He dodged out of the way, yanking the pan from you. He twirled it in his hand, before turning to you and swung at your head. All you could hear was OA’s screaming as you fell to the floor. Her screams became faint as he dragged her to the car. His footsteps came back a while later and he lifted you up and shoved you in the car with her.

OA’s soothing hands cradled your head on her lap as she cried, the car jerking around as Hap drove off. You wanted to wake up and assure her that you were fine, that you can still make an escape with her, but you couldn’t. You felt yourself slipping away. You failed.

“And that was the last thing you remembered?” Elias, the FBI trauma counselor asked.

You nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around your knees as you sat on the grass of a park a couple of blocks from the FBI building. Elias sat next to you, casually leaning back against a tree.

You had woken up in a hospital after having some kind of vision where OA was floating in the air, a bright light surrounding her, before falling quickly. Apparently, you still had the flashdrive of some of the footage you stole from Hap’s computer and the police had found it. You were promised to not be charged as a willing accomplice if you told them everything, but just as you were, they didn’t believe you. They had you talking to a trauma counselor, hoping that it could help clear your mind.

Elias Rahim was not what you expected from a trauma counselor that worked for the FBI. He was casual and he genuinely wanted to help you, listening closely to what you have to say without any bias. He helped you make sense of what happened and had not invalidated what you claimed to have experienced. It was easier to talk about it after each session. It took months for you to open up, but it was happening.

“Why were you curious about life after death?” he asked.

“Well… I guess because I’ve had a lot of relatives pass away and my parents… well, they’re not getting any younger. It’s like believing in heaven or the Land of the Dead. Knowing what’s beyond all of… this,” you waved your hands to your surroundings, “It’s comforting, I guess.”

Elias nodded. “I get it. Death is something we don’t have a say in, but the idea that life still continues in some other form is reassuring, right?”

You picked out a piece of grass and rolled it up with your fingers. “I… I had another dream,” you muttered.

Elias leaned in. “A dream?”

You nodded. “It was… it’s strange,” you said, laughing at it.

“Well, I want to know now.”

“You… you were on a stage, in front of hundreds of people,” you said, “You were rapping and people were shouting your lyrics back at you. It’s ridiculous, right?”

The corner of his lips turned up. “Could be because of that embarrassing story I told you about how I snuck into an Eminem concert,” he said.

You looked over at him, and he was giving you that strange look again. Like there was something that he wanted to tell me but couldn’t. He looked away, lifting up his sleeve to check the time.

“It’s time to head back now. See again at the same time next week?”

You nodded, dusting yourself off. The two of you walked back to the building where a family friend was waiting to pick you up.

“I’ll see you later, then,” you said to Elias.

He nodded, waving as you climbed into the car and drove off. He sighed. You were so close. He could tell that your other self wants you to remember, but your mind isn’t allowing it to take over. It can’t be rushed either. He would just have to wait, like he’s always done.

#WritersMonth2020 #haptives and reader #haptives #The OA #The OA imagine #elias rahim x reader #Homer Roberts #Prairie Johnson #Scott Brown #Renata Duerte #Rachel DeGrasso #captive five #hap #hunter aloysius percy #Dr. Percy

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shannygoatgruff · 5 years ago

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My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter IX

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA

Overall Warning: Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Drug use, talk of spiraling out of control

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other. Boys will be boys…

Chapter IX

Why the fuck am I watching the news? This is what flipping through channels gets me. I should have never stopped when I saw this bitch’s face. I fucking hate her.

Now, I either want to put my fist through the TV or pull my damn hair out.

Fuck, I hate this bitch! She’s no different from the rest of these news assholes. Always trying to dig up some shit that should be left alone. Putting all of our personal business on blast like that...pieces of shit. And this whore is the worst of them. She's purposely trying to make Ivar and I look bad.

"Police are trying to find a common thread between these murders. The victims have all been found in remote areas throughout the county. The coroner reports each victim showed signs of sexual trauma and or torture, pre- or post-mortem. While police have no suspects, in these killings, they do believe they are all connected and have been committed by the same perpetrator. Witnesses to the last two victims’ disappearances have described seeing a Caucasian male, between the ages of 18-35, approximately 5’8” – 6’2”, medium build, with medium to dark hair, leaving with the victims. If you have any information about these victims or the suspect, please call Detective Torstein, Homicide." The white numbers for the police station flash on the screen under this bitch’s face.

“You fucking cunt!” I don’t know what just fell to the floor as I kicked the coffee table in front of the couch. She has no right to show fucking pictures and the names of our past guests. But, I’ll be damned, if they are there. All the ones from this month: Halfdan, Porunn, Astrid, and Erlendur. None of them looked like that when we met them. Then, they were all slutted up and ready to please. But looking at these pictures, they look like they’re a part of a fucking church choir.

You bitch!

But, fuck you news-lady, you forgot one. You forgot about that girl we met at the concert. I almost did. At least, I can keep one of those special nights sacred without you fucking it all up and turning it into some freak show for these news groupies to salivate over.

Shit, I just wish I could remember that whole night.

I can only remember meeting her and bringing her back to the cabin. I remember she was a great lay, and that looked fucking amazing. But that’s it. Every time I try to remember what we did, or how many times we did it or anything else, there’s like a blank spot. I don’t know if Ivar got to try anything new with her, or what.

Ivar said I blacked out, again. Did she pass out before or after he got to her? Did she try to escape? Did he punish her long and hard for that? Did she cooperate and he let her go? Is that why she wasn’t on this little photo lineup? What the fuck I am saying? He wouldn’t’ve done that shit. They just haven't found her body, yet.

That bitch reporter is smiling again. She's enjoying all the fucking lies and the smear campaign that she’s creating against us. "Stay tuned for more information on these murders as they become available. Judith Wessex, reporting, Action 10 News."

"Lying bitch!" Just the look on her face and the sound of her voice is driving me crazy. She doesn't know us. She has no right to say those kinds of things about us. Nobody tortured or brutalized anybody. It was all in fun. They were into it.

Ivar takes the remote from my hand and tucks it into his palm, "You don't need to watch this." He's been extra protective since I woke up in his bed. I can't do anything. He must have really been scared after this last blackout because he won't let anything upset me. Changing the channel, he settles on something non-threatening; Property Brothers. He knows I love that show. "There. That's better."

"I'm fine, Ivar,” I lie, “that bitch on the news just got under my skin.” I reach over to pick up the ashtray – when did I start smoking so much? I’m already on my second pack today and I’ve only been awake since noon.

"I know you are. But you get bothered so easily. I just want you to take it easy." His smooth voice caresses my ears and instantly gives me goosebumps on my arms. But he knows the damage is already done. Standing behind me, he holds his arms out on either side of my head, with his fists out in front of me. “Left or right? Pick one.”

I have no idea what’s in his hands, but since we’re both right-handed, I nod toward his right hand. He tilts my head back so I’m looking up at him. “Open up.” I obediently do as I’m told and feel three pills of varying size hit my tongue.

He quickly places a kiss on my forehead as I sit up to swallow the pills dry. Turning in my seat, I watch as he drops the pills from his left hand into his mouth. He holds his tongue out for me to see his four pills before his tongue darts back into his mouth.

“What was that?” I try to swallow hard enough to make the pills slide down my throat. Hopefully, it’s something that’ll make me stop wanting to throw this fucking television out of the window.

Ivar shrugs and smiles, “Fuck if I know. I found them in my coat pocket. Guess we’ll find out shortly.” He picks up the dishtowel that he had sat down on the back of the couch and slings it over his shoulder, "Anyway, Serk, that shit that reporter said wasn't true. She's just trying to fuck with us. Trying to make us slip up." He starts to walk out of the room but stops and turns around with a huge smile. "Maybe we should party with her." His smile immediately fades when he sees how upset she's made me. "Awe, brother… don't worry about that bitch. I'll kill her if you want."

"They know what we look like, Ives."

"How many white guys are there in the world, Serk? They can’t even agree on my goddamn hair color.” He leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest. “I took care of everything. No one knows. No one will ever find out." There is such honesty and power in his voice that I can’t help but trust that he believes this. I know he wouldn’t chance anything getting in the way of the life that we've built together.

But, there’s still that part of me that fears that our world is about to come crashing down around us. What would I do if I didn’t have this outlet or God forbid they took Ivar away from me?

"I can't handle this shit anymore. Fucking bitch reporters are lying on us. Stupid fucking cops are trying to dig shit up and sticking their pig noses where they don't belong." Everything as of late is running through my mind. This use to be so much fun, but now everyone else is fucking it up. "Something wrong with me. My blackouts are getting worse. We went out and I can't remember it. I can't remember jack shit from the past week! Who the fuck blacks out for a whole week? How long can I go on like this before something really fucked up happens?"

It feels like my throat is closing and I’m starting to sweat. My heart rate is speeding up and I think I’m about to die. I can’t breathe. Jesus, why does Ivar put up with me when I'm like this? "I'm fucking up at work. Fucking Ub is gonna come here and start asking questions. Thora’s gonna fucking leave me. You're gonna get tired of taking care of me! Shit's just all fucked up." I sit forward with my arms on my thighs and try to catch my breath. I try so hard not to give into the fear, but fuck if I'm not feeling it leak out of my pores.

This is why I need Ivar. Thora could never handle me like this. I can't even handle me when I get like this. "I don't know how much more I can take, Ivy. I can't do this shit, no more! I can't." All the air I’m trying to gulp in isn’t helping at the moment.

Standing before me with a concerned look on his face, he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson." And there it is - that voice that I fucking hate. That voice Father used to keep us in line. Ivar rarely uses that voice, but when he does it immediately gets my attention. I look at him obediently as he sits on the edge of the couch next to me and studies my face.

The amount of emotion in me is overwhelming and before his hand even reaches up to touch my hair, my throat starts to ache, my head hurts and my eyes are stinging. Shit.

Ivar's arms around me remind me just how much I need him and how important he is to me. "I'm sorry." I lean my head back on the pillow and let the tears run down my face. I’m so embarrassed and tired of always losing my shit. But true to form, his arms are around my neck and he presses his lips to my cheek and coos sweetly in my ear until I feel my fear dissipates.

With a smile on his face, he turns my head to his. "Better now?" His thumbs trace my tears as he holds my head in his hands. The look in his eyes tells me that everything is going to alright and I believe him. A simple nod of my head convinces him that the worst is over and with that, he places the gentlest kiss on the tip of my nose. I don't how he does it, but he always makes it better. "Come on," he takes my hand to pull me off the couch with him, "I baked cookies."

Now I just feel silly. I had another meltdown and truthfully I can't remember why especially when I see the plate of fresh-baked cookies that he has laid out on the kitchen table. Whatever was wrong with me just moments before seems trivial. It's amazing how he just always seems to know what to do to make everything better.

Ivar's back is to me as he looks out of the kitchen window, but judging by the way his neck is arched, he's taken an interest in something. "We have new neighbors." His voice is distant, almost like he's speaking without thinking. He can’t tear his eyes away from whatever is outside, but his head turns the slightest bit to face me.

I’ve never seen him entranced this before. Ivar never fixates. These neighbors must be amazing.

I stuff a chocolate chip cookie into my mouth and pick up another one on my way to the window. He's right. A new young couple is moving in right next door and the woman is exceptionally beautiful. Her eyes are big and bright, her face is like silk and she has this refreshingly innocent look about her. It's enough to remind me that I haven't called Thora since the last night she was here.

Then there's the guy with her. There's something in the proud way he stands... the way his muscles protrude from the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the powerful way in which he slips his arms around her and lifts her off the ground…It makes my top lip sweat and a tingle start at the base of my skull.

I can't move. I can only stand here and chew my cookie as I watch these beautiful creatures in front of me. “They are perfect,” My voice comes out like a dream. I don’t even recognize the sound of it.

As soon as I look over at him and see that gleam in his eye, I know that he already knows. They are perfect.

He lifts my hand to his mouth and takes a bite of the cookie I'm holding. "Yes. They. Are." Chewing, he nods his head and smiles. "We should welcome them to the neighborhood." He always says that the only way to get over the last one is to take a new one. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.

Something happened with the last girl. Something bad enough to make me forget the most important things. I wish I could remember that night because I want to know that I showed her a good time, but I don't want to remember why I lost control. It's no use worrying about it now. I can't dwell on old memories. I can only look forward to making new ones. New memories with my new neighbors.

No matter what I've done before or how I feel about it now, the only thing I can concentrate on at this very moment is the dull gnawing in my gut. I need something to keep my mind off of all of this shit.

I need this. I need them. I may always be fighting with the half a conscience I have, but the growling inside of me is usually much louder than it.

The beast inside of me is awake again. And it's so damn hungry.

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