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winterlinksandotherlinks · 3 years ago

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Ravio Marchand — local merchant, family man, and husband of the Hero of Legend! Also featuring an obligatory Sheerow

I love LiWiAU Ravio so much, y'all have no idea I’ll yell some more about it in the tags dw

Thoughts and bonus doodle under the cut, and a shout-out to @astrolabe-blade for lending an ear in the character development process ❤

Ravio is one of those characters that I first encountered in fan content, and I've never really been able to stray all that far from that. As a result, I really don't know how much remains of the original character, beyond the name, the occupation, and the general appearance. Still, I care a lot about him, and I hope you'll all also enjoy him

originally from Lorule — his mother was a herbalist, his father made wicker-baskets, and their garden was frequently visited by birds;

this was the garden Sheerow, a blue-and-white sparrow-like bird hatched in one autumn, and Ravio’s mother took great care in nurturing Sheerow through the winter — Ravio loved playing with Sheerow, and always claimed to be able to speak telepathically with him;

for reasons currently unknown, Ravio and Sheerow do, in fact, speak telepathically with each other;

when Ravio was six, his parents died, and he ended up on the streets — he made a friend who introduced him to Mamie, and older lady who Ravio views as a grandmotherly figure (Mamie’s also Mitchi’s biological great-grandma);

when Ravio started working for Hilda, he used his income to buy Mamie and red-and-purple woollen shawl that, later, was passed back to him (see the illustration above);

trans (ftm) — found appropriate resources to transition once he moved to Hyrule (has only had top surgery), but is on bad days still insecure about his waist, hips, and thighs;

enjoys being the care-taker in the household, but worries that it’ll make him appear less masculine in other people’s eyes;

knows more or less everything about Legend’s adventures, and helped Legend through the rocky period post-Koholint (I’ve fiddled around with the order of Legend’s adventures, but I’ll talk more about that in the post about Legend) — heard about Marin before he knew anything about Koholint, and was secretly furious with her for the state Legend was in (these days he’s accepted that some part of Legend always will love Marin, and come to enjoy hearing Legend’s anecdotes about Koholint);

works as a merchant at ‘Link’s Orchard and Ravio’s Magic Items’ (a small shop-expansion to Legend’s cottage), and crafts enchanted items for sale and renting — so far, he’s created a magic boiler for bath water, and he’s considering inventing a magic washer and a magic broom (essentially the equivalent of a washing machine and a vacuum cleaner);

travels for a few weeks every summer, together with Legend, to trade all over Hyrule and Lorule;

when I write Ravio, I tend to imagine a softer less-dramatic version of Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle, with some added flavour;

to distinguish between Hyrulean and Lorulean, I’ve decided to use French as a place-holder for Lorulean (French!Ravio was an idea that occurred when I saw @guardedchild ’s wonderful colouring of this RavioLink illustration);

Ravio calls Legend ‘mon lapin’ (trans.: ‘sweetheart’, ‘[my] bunny’) — beyond three months of French in high school, I’m not as familiar with the language as I’d like to, so this is purely what I’ve learned from Reverso and some deep-dives in dictionaries (if any French-speaking person thinks I got it wrong, please let me know);

Ravio and Legend’s interactions, under normal circumstances, are definitely that flavour of flirting that’s thinly veiled as almost-scathing banter;

Ravio firmly believes there’s a tea for any situation;

his favourite dish is Mamie’s cassoulet (a savoury bean stew);

bought matching mugs for himself and Legend once (one’s pink, the other’s purple, and they both have bunnies painted on them);

half his clothes have apple blossom embroideries thanks to Legend (whenever Legend takes his shirts/tunics, it’s always a tossup between “Legend just sort of forgets to return them and wears them casually around the cottage” and “Legend returns them covered in embroideries” — either way, Ravio doesn’t mind);

Ravio knew very early on that he liked Legend, but kept it to himself because of Marin — at first just because he didn’t know who she was to Legend, and then because he assumed Legend was still grieving her;

Ravio and Legend got married the day they started dating (it’s a rollercoaster, and the entire 16,000-and-some words of Ch. 2 of Out of Time is about this);

Ravio marks all the items he sells with a watermark/trademark/y’know what I mean (I can’t remember the actual word for this in any of the languages I know rn, but see the doodle below);

knows Warriors from the War of Eras, and is essentially best friends with Linkle (she knows everything about Ravio, Legend, Mitchi, and Fable, and Ravio knows everything about Linkle, Warriors, and their Zelda) — Malon’s later included in this little group, and the three of them are inseparable;

Ravio’s very proficient with his hammer (which he may or may not have placed some enchantments on) — Legend doesn’t know this yet, but he’ll find it very attractive when he does, and might have a minor existential crisis over it;

Ravio has copied the bracelet he gave Legend, so both of them can travel between Hyrule and Lorule

I probably have more thoughts about him (and his interactions with the others! especially Hyrule!), but this post is already long and detailed, so I’ll leave it here for now

Bonus doodle of Ravio's branding/trademark/thing (the line below the bunny hood is supposed to be some kind of writing, probably saying something along the lines of, “Made by Ravio Marchand, Hyrulean merchant and enchanter”):

#ravio #liwiau ravio #links winter au #albw #you've all probably heard about trans legend #but may i propose #trans ravio #the merchant moved into my head and now lives there rent free #i might have projected some of my Gender Thoughts on him #i just want him to be happy and soft and in love #and still a little bit of a bastard #he's just ... i love him so much?#he deserves the world #and i'm not above giving it to him #i'll end my tags here #because anything else i add is going to be incoherent sobbing

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thatredheadwriter · 2 years ago

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Who?

javier peña x reader

This is pure smut (with a little fluff at the end because I can’t resist). During the pursuit of recreational pleasure, you accidentally call Javier something new.

This is an NSFW blurb for female reader with Javier Peña of Narcos. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

Lots of pet names

dom!Javier Peña

dom/sub dynamics

Dirty talk

Unprotected P in V sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

Established FWB relationship

Daddy kink (title only)

Creampie

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

You babbled incoherently as Javi fucked you from above. His hot breath fanned your face as he pounded into you ruthlessly. He’d hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and the new angle was finding spots you didn’t even know you had.

“Such a good girl, takin’ it for me like this, princesa,” he purrs, one of his massive hands coming to squeeze your tit, the other firmly gripping your hip in a way that you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow.

“Ah, fuck…Javi,” you cried, clawing for him, needing to feel him over every inch of you. He happily obliged, changing the angle yet again and throwing you even deeper into bliss.

In all your confused pleadings of, ‘please’ and ‘more’ and other half-formed words, you almost missed it when it slipped past your lips.

“Shit, daddy. Feels so good,” you panted, clawing at his shoulders.

But then he stopped completely, halfway inside you, and looked at you with his brow furrowed.

“What’d you say?” he asked, searching your face as if he could find the words there.

You stuttered and tried to hide your face in the pillow, but he was persistent. The hand that wasn’t holding his weight up off of you came to cup your jaw, forcing you to face him.

“Princesa,” the word rolled off his tongue so smoothly, “What was that you called me?”

“I…I called you daddy,” you confessed, your face burning in shame, tears building at your waterline. Javi and you had the kink conversation fairly early in your ‘mutually beneficial recreational partnership’ as you’d dubbed it, but you never brought up your daddy kink. It was so niche and you’d never met anyone else who was into it. Besides, it’s not like Javi needed anything else to add to his toolkit. He already made you cum faster, harder, and more often than any other partner before him, a fact he was very proud of.

His face softened, and he smiled. “Oh, bebita, you could have told me.”

You gasped as he pulled nearly all the way out before filling you back to the hilt.

“Just needed daddy to fuck you dumb, eh?” he grinned as he resumed his earlier pace, his hand slipping from your jaw to wipe a tear that slipped from your eye.

You nodded, brain going to mush when he called himself daddy. That combined with the sight of him above you, sweaty and gorgeous had your orgasm building even faster than usual.

“Who fucks you this good?” he growled in your ear, hand returning to your hip.

“You, daddy!” you all but sob, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging the way you’ve learned he secretly loves.

“Fuck, that’s right. This is my pussy, bebita.”

“Only yours,” you nod in agreement, so close to cumming already it burns like a white-hot coil inside you. But try as you might, your brain couldn’t function well enough to string words together to warn him.

As if Javi didn’t already know from the flutter of your walls around his cock to the way your bit your bottom lip and whined so lowly that if he wasn’t listening for it, he’d miss it over his own heavy breathing and the sound of skin on skin.

“Gonna cum for me, princesa?” he asked, his thumb moving to where it could rub hard and fast on your clit.

You nodded furiously, barely able to do even that before the dam broke and every muscle in your body was tensing and relaxing in careful coordination. Some part of you was aware that words were still coming out of your mouth, but you had no clue what it was you were saying.

It was Javi’s voice that brought you back, low in your ear. “Solo papi te folla tan bien,” he growled.

As you came down from your high, Javi was still chasing his, but he did remove this thumb from your oversensitive nub, giving you a touch of reprieve. You tugged on his hair once more and pressed lazy kisses to the line of his jaw.

Finally, he came, thrusting hard and not stopping until every last drop was fucked up into you.

Javi rolled to the side, thick arms bringing you with him so he could keep you close without crushing you under his weight.

“Shit, where were you keeping that, princesa?” he huffed a laugh, brushing some stray hair from your face.

You curled into his shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment, “I didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“Hey,’ he captured your chin in one of his rough hands, placing a kiss to your lips before pulling back to look you in the eye, “You can call me whatever you want, bebita, as long as you keep making those pretty noises for me.”

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arminsleftnut · 4 years ago

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hi!! i’m so excited to see a blog that writes for death note, it’s become a recent hyperfixation of mine and i can’t find any good fics!!! 💗💗💗💗

could you provide some nsfw content for L? any is fine really, hc’s or a full drabble if you’d like!! i’m desperate for L content lol 💗💗

YES oh my god of course 💗💗 deathnote is one of mine too (i rewatch it like once a week) n L is my major comfort character. i did a kinda cross between a drabble and headcanons for this! I hope it’s what you were looking for <333

CONTENT WARNING: smut (MDNI, 18+), female-bodied reader (gender-neutral pronouns), fingering, begging, mild pain kink, overstimulation, L being .. himself and also mildly obsessive, voyeurism (read: L is a creep misa was right), slightest bit of dubcon if you squint, masturbation, pillow humping, dom!L and yes i will die on this hill, sub!reader, L is actually a little mean in this one, dacryphilia, thigh slapping, fluff at the end if you squint, let me know if i need to add more!

being physically intimate with L was something you never really considered when you first got together. you weren’t even sure sex was something that was on his radar; he had so many other things to think about, and physical pleasure seemed like something he didn’t pay any mind to.

and you were right— for the most part. it’s not something L ever stops to consider. it’s not that he’s necessarily disinterested, it’s just never been a priority. he usually just takes care of himself when the urge arises.

with you here, though, it’s different. he’s not alone anymore, and your own desires are something he assumes he needs to factor in, and as many times as you assure him that it’s completely okay if he doesn’t want to have sex, that you can take care of it yourself and it’s a nonissue, he’s still . . . curious.

he’s seen you before on the monitors; those times late at night when everyone else has gone to bed and you forget there’s cameras everywhere, that he can see everything you do. he watches you as you’re spread out on the shared bed he rarely sleeps in, slipping your fingers in and out of your little cunt, your mewls and soft whines carrying through the speakers and shooting straight to his cock. he wonders if it’s wrong to watch you like this, but even as he ponders if misa amane was correct, that he is a pervert, he still doesn’t tear his gaze away from the screen. there is the possibility you hadn’t forgotten about the cameras at all. perhaps you wanted him to see.

he doesn’t say anything, less to save you any possible embarrassment and more because he’s found that a subject is least genuine when they know they’re being observed. it’s human nature, he knows, to alter yourself beneath the lens of others, to hide, and he doesn’t want that. this is a side of you he hadn’t considered might exist— an obvious oversight, and one he aims to correct.

that was how L always was. he loves you, yes, you can say that confidently. but as quiet and soft-handed a man as he is, his love is not simple, nor is it gentle. like him, it’s invasive and relentless. it’s not uncommon for you to feel somewhat neglected, or that perhaps he forgets about you altogether, but he never does. in fact, it’s quite the opposite. you are just as much a fixation, a complex puzzle to be torn apart and examined as any case, and rarely does a minute go by in which he doesn’t think of you. it’s perhaps not as romantic as you might like, with his owlish gaze pinned on you whether through a monitor or when you’re sitting next to him, picking apart every detail, but you can’t say he doesn’t pay attention to you. sometimes, you think he pays too much.

when he finally touches you, it’s no different.

he watched for weeks before he broached the idea. the hours you spent trying to satisfy yourself, with your hand between your legs or rutting desperately against a pillow— yet you never seemed truly satisfied. it was obvious in your expression, face screwed up cutely in obvious distress, frustrated tears welling in your eyes and streaking prettily down your flushed cheeks. you could only ever take two of your own fingers, he noticed; you’d tried more a few times, seeming to find your own two small ones dissatisfactory, but you could never quite make it, leaving you in a painful limbo that always has you in a particularly sour mood the next time he speaks with you.

the more he watched, the more he realized how truly unsatisfied you were. one night, you spent thirty minutes rocking against your pillow, and despite the wetness that darkened your pretty panties, you eventually gave up, tossing the ruined pillow away from you with a small, frustrated shriek. he wondered why; and more still, why he suddenly found his own hand unsatisfying, and why he could only curve his own thoughts with ones of you on the monitor, spread out prettily.

it was horribly distracting, really. and with anything else, L had to make sense of it.

in the end, he ends up with more questions than answers.

it’s not his fault, really. it’s yours. you’re so fascinating to study, and so eager to let him learn. you’d been so utterly pliant as he pried your thighs apart, stuttering out reassurances that he didn’t have to do this, asking over and over if he was sure. he doesn’t bother to tell you that this wasn’t for you— he wouldn’t be able to think properly until he’d gotten his answers.

there’s none of the awkward hesitation you might’ve expected, no unsure fumbling of hands or knocking teeth. no, L is sure of this as he is anything else he studies, tearing it apart as he sees fit until he’s satisfied with the conclusion. you’re no different, and he’s just as relentless as he always is.

there’s a certain desperate edge to it when he touches you, like he’s trying to tear everything from you by force. he watches you squirm beneath him, mewling and pleading incoherently as the walls of your pretty cunt spasm around his fingers for what feels like the thousandth time (it would seem you can, in fact, take three), and the only thing he can think of is how many more you’ll be able to give him. surely this isn’t your breaking point? no, he knows better, that can’t possibly be it. you can take more, and he tells you so, deafened to your mindless babbling and choked sobs as you try to push him away.

it’s strange that you do that. you get so upset when he actually does pull away:

he has to pin your hands down eventually; clawing at him the way you are is only a hindrance, and it reduces his overall effectiveness significantly. fortunately, you seem to learn quickly, responding especially well to a sharp slap to your inner thigh. (he isn’t sure if it’s a carrot or a stick, given the way you clench around his fingers when he does it. regardless, it works, so he does it again).

it really only occurs to him to stop when your body seizes again, this time falling entirely limp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he might’ve worried, but your eyes flutter open only a few seconds later, and it’s then that he considers that you might be rather exhausted.

“are you alright?” his voice is quiet, hoarser than normal, and uncharacteristically gentle. he cocks his head at you, the puppy-like gesture such a stark contrast to the delightful hell he was inflicting on you only moments before that you can’t help but giggle tiredly.

at your assurance that you aren’t on the verge of collapse, not anymore at least, he takes time to clean you up, his touch feather-light and familiar in its softness. he lets you cling to him, winding his awkwardly long body around you in a sort of cradle, tucking your head beneath his chin.

he counts the minutes until you fall asleep, measuring your breaths against his own. as much as he enjoys tearing you apart to see what’s inside, there’s a strange satisfaction in putting you back together again.

this is my first published smut i apologize in advance.

#i’m so sorry i went a little feral #not beta’d or edited we die like men #🍒.poppedcherries #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #l lawliet x you #death note x reader #death note smut #death note x y/n #l is so weird i’m sorry

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toru-oikawas-milkbread · 3 years ago

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A-Z NSFW Alphabet | Shinsuke Kita

Pairing: Shinsuke Kita x f!reader

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings/contents: Sex, strong language, variety of kinks, 18+

Notes: N O B O D Y can change my mind that this man is a soft-dom. I’m dying on this hill. With that being said, I hope you agree with that statement and like this post 💕

In all of my NSFW posts, all of the characters are 18+! If you would like to see my growing list of other Haikyuu boys whenever I add them, you can follow {this link} to my masterlist!

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kita is an aftercare god. He takes such good care of you by getting you into the shower, changing the sheets, putting your blanket in the dryer so that it’s warm when you get into bed, fluffing the pillows up, making sure that you have water on your bedside table, and showering with you if you wanted him to. He would wash your hair and back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while the warm water slides down your bodies for a few minutes as he softly massages your shoulders. He would help you get dressed, carry you around, and hold you close while he strokes your hair and you try and sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Theirs: He likes his hands. He knows that they’re a bit rough, but they’re also large and always warm enough to warm your chilly hands. He can grope at your chest with his hands, hold your hands in his, cup your face in his hands, and be able to feel you close to him and hold you all because of his hands

Yours: He’s always really liked your breasts. He likes to see your cleavage, and don’t even get him started on when you’re wearing a shirt with no bra and he can see your nipples. He likes to watch them bounce while he’s fucking you. He also enjoys slapping them a little bit to make them bounce and shift inside of your shirt when you’re not wearing a bra. Kita also really enjoys sucking on your nipples and licking up your cleavage while he pushes them together with his hands

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

For the most part, Kita likes to cum inside of you. He doesn’t necessarily care for watching his cum slide down your legs like some of the characters, and he doesn’t really care for cumming on your stomach either. Even if the sheets are being changed, he doesn’t care for making a bigger mess, especially on your body. However, on the rare occurrence that you would slide Kita’s cock between your breasts, he would cum on your chest

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would really like to have sex with you at the beach. The distant sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks, the sounds of the city at night, just the two of you alone in the sand on a blanket— kissing, feeling each other, pleasuring each other. But he’s never pursued this thought because the beach is a very public area and who knows what might happen. However, if you were to bring this up, it wouldn’t take much convincing on his end

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You were Kita’s first ever experience. The two of you took things slow and careful, with lots of questions from him and asking for your guidance to make sure that he knew what you liked and didn’t like. He would make sure that you were okay with different things that he tried, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or put you through any pain. He talked with you beforehand to ask about some things you liked so he could hone in on those skills and learn how to make you squirm and squirt around his fingers. He has a very good memory and it didn’t take him long to perfect his skills in the bedroom because he’s very vocal with you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s always loved missionary. He likes to look at you squirming beneath him and seeing the faces you make as you reach your orgasm around his cock. He likes the ability to kiss you whenever he wants. He likes looking into your eyes and being able to lean down and whisper how much he loves you in your ear. He likes being able to pull back a little bit and watch your breasts bounce along with his movements. He likes to moan in your ear and have you moaning in his while you bury your face into his shoulder. And he especially likes when you wrap your legs around him and keep his body snug against your own. Occasionally he likes to pull back and bring your legs up onto his shoulders. He likes this because he can see even more of you and he still has the ability to lean down to kiss you if he felt like it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Kita is somewhere between serious and humorous. He likes to make you laugh. He doesn’t want sex to be a serious thing that you can’t still enjoy each others presence in and laugh about silly things like bonking your heads even after how many times you’ve been in bed together. However there are more serious moments where the two of you stare into each others eyes, Kita’s hand holding your own down on the bed as he pushes himself inside of you, but even the serious moments are very loving. There isn’t a time of any day that you aren’t reminded that Kita truthfully and very deeply cares for you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nowadays, Kita shaves it all off completely. For a long time he only trimmed it, but one day while he was in the shower he thought that if he was going to be trimming it so short, he might as well go ahead and shave it. He mainly only wanted to see what it would feel like against his clothes, and not to mention you, if he was fully shaved down, and he realized how much better it feels without the hair. He keeps himself very clean, very frequently

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Kita is a very romantic, sweet man. He treasures you above all else, praising you with kisses pressed to each part of your body, a soft tone that makes your heart race and a gentle gaze that makes your cheeks flush hot. He never lets you go a day thinking he could love you any less today than he did yesterday, and he never makes you feel like he won’t love you the same tomorrow. Kita has never once disappointed you, and he doesn’t plan on starting now

J = Jerk off (masterbation headcanon)

If he ever needs to get off that badly that he can’t merely ignore the boner, he has no objections to taking care of the issue himself. He doesn’t like bothering you with sucking him off, however he might occasionally see if you would want to have phone sex. However there is never any pressure because he really can take care of the boner himself

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light teasing: (Explained further below)

Praising: Kita is constantly praising you. Whether it be for how good you suck on his cock whenever he rarely says yes to you sucking him off or you’re in 69, how good you taste, how cute you are squirming for his tongue and his fingers, how cute it is that you’re so wet and ready for him, how well you take his cock, how good you feel when you’re clenching around him, etc. He also calls you many sweet things in bed. His favorite names to call you are: “Baby” and “My love,” but Kita will also call you “(His) Good girl” sometimes softly in your ear. He’ll call you one of these names while he gently caresses your cheek, telling you that you’re so pretty when you’re taking his cock inside of you

Daddy kink: He’s definitely into being called daddy, but he also wouldn’t ask for it. It was something that he didn’t know he was into until one time the two of you were having sex and it slipped out of your mouth. He wasn’t expecting it and had stopped in shock, asking you what you had just called him. You were extremely embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. In that moment, he simply caressed your face and whispered soft assurances that it was okay and that he didn’t mind it, and that you could call him that if you wanted to, but it was something he grew fond of very fast

Very light dumbification: He’s only into this in the sense that he enjoys fucking you until you’re unable to think of anything beside him and how good he feels inside of you. Sometimes he’ll whisper something about how you seem mind-numb around his cock, but he wouldn’t be mean about it. His tone would be gentle as he caressed your cheek, calling you his cute little baby and asking you a question to hear you mumble out an incoherent answer. He loves it when your moaning gets messy and incoherent because then he knows that he’s done his job

Light edging: Kita doesn’t really deny you of what it is that you want and what you’re craving, but he does know when to edge you once or twice before he lets you reach your orgasm because it’s going to make it feel that much better when you do finally cum around his fingers or down into his mouth. It leaves you panting and feels much better than when he just gives it to you. Besides, he can’t lie, listening to you beg for him to let you cum on your own free will makes his cock throb

Squirting: He loves to make you squirt. He enjoys seeing how much he can make you squirt back to back. Once he got the hang of how to make you gush, he started to do it every single time that you were in bed together. He likes to edge you a couple of times and then make you squirt several times in a row. He finds it fascinating to watch, and he also knows that it feels good for you. He really likes it when you squirt around his cock because you squeeze tighter around him and it makes both of you feel good

Overstimulation: There’s nothing more that Kita loves than overstimulating you. Than hearing your moans become a sobbing, incoherent mess. Than feeling your pussy clenching and gushing around his cock until you have nothing left to give him. Than feeling your nails in his back until your fingers are numb and there’s red scratch marks on his skin. Than kissing you sloppily until you’re unable to focus on the kiss and get too lost in how good it feels. Than having you fall asleep quickly in his arms afterwards because you’re exhausted, clean, and satisfied— just like he always intends on leaving you after sex

Clothes: Kita loves to fuck you while you’re wearing his shirts. He thinks that you look so cute— so small in his large shirts, especially the dress shirts that he has. He can leave it unbuttoned on you, this way he can watch your breasts bounce while he’s inside of you and still have the satisfaction of you wearing his shirt. It’s a little reassurance that you’re all his and his alone, especially in the moment. Because your mind isn’t anywhere but him, and he knows that— and in return his mind isn’t anywhere but you

Soft dom: He is a very gentle man. Everything that he does, he does it gently with you. He wouldn’t ever want to hurt you more than how he stretches you out, and when it comes to thoughts of degrading you or calling you a whore, he doesn’t get off. He’s gentle, soft, and loving. Even when it hurts, he tries to take things slow and gentle with you, being as caring as he’s always been. He’s a sweetheart and he loves to praise you. He likes to see you smile when the two of you are in bed, and hearing your laughter only makes it better. He wouldn’t get off to being mean to you or hurting you in any way

Service dom: Kita gets off on getting you off. He wouldn’t care much for you sucking his cock, instead wanting to bury his face between your legs and making you squirm and moan beneath his touch for hours. He would do anything that you liked, within reason. He wants to make you as happy as he can. You would never leave that bedroom unsatisfied— that he makes damn sure of

Somno (sex on a sleeping/sleepy person): It isn’t the most frequent occurrence, but sometimes Kita likes to rub your clit or finger you gently while you’re sleeping to hear your sleepy moans. He would also love to wake you up on the weekend mornings with his face already between your legs. He usually only does it on the weekends, but if you happened to be having a wet dream on a weeknight, sometimes he can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses along your neck and starting to finger you— especially if you were to moan his name in your sleep

Lactophilia: I think that if you had Kita’s baby, he wouldn’t mind at all still sucking on your nipples while you were breastfeeding. He would massage your breasts for you when they were especially tender, watching some milk drip from your nipples and being fascinated by the sight. He’d be curious about how it tasted and ask you if he could taste it, and it just became something that happened sometimes. When you’re in missionary and breastfeeding, he would play with your nipples to make some milk squirt from them

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

#1: Kita likes to have sex in the bedroom above all else. It’s comfortable, close to the bathroom, warm, and he likes to keep pillows beneath your head while the two of you are having sex so that he knows you’re nice and comfortable. He would never let your head hit the wall more than once, if that. He’s a very observant man, and if he thinks that you’re too close to the wall, he’ll put a pillow behind your head for extra assurance that you don’t bonk your head

#2: Kita really likes shower sex. It isn’t as frequent nor would he try and have sex with you every single time that the two of you showered together, but say that the two of you were to finish in the bedroom but you were both willing to go a little longer, he would have no objections to fucking you against the wall. Kita would get down on his knees and eat you out while the warm water ran down your body, and he would actually really like it when you suck on his cock in the shower sometimes

M = Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

Knowing that you’re feeling good is what makes this service dom happy. It’s all he really needs to keep going, hearing your moans and having you tell him that it feels good drives him wild. He loves it when you’re more vocal because it’s extra assurance that you don’t feel pressured into having sex with him— especially when he’s the one who initiates it. He likes to make you squirm beneath him, often times reaching down and rubbing at your clit if you were in the right position

N = No (something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

Kita wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Very gently degrading you by calling you a slut or a whore (only if you asked him to) would be the worst that he would do. Kita is not into the idea of hurting you, so even if you were into it, he wouldn’t slap you and only gently slap your ass sometimes— but it’s a rare occurrence because in the moment he isn’t thinking about wanting to slap you

O = Oral (preferences in giving/receiving, skill, etc.)

He is very good at oral and he loves to do it. He likes to suck on your clit and finger you until you’re squirting around his fingers and soaking the bed. He also enjoys teasing you with his tongue, eyeing you as he laps at your entrance and occasionally pushing his tongue inside of you. But his favorite thing to do would be edging you once while he’s between your legs and then making you squirt a bunch. He likes it when you pull on his hair and tighten your legs around his head before you reach your orgasm. Another thing that Kita loves is when you sit on his face— not to suck his cock, but so that he can suck on your clit and massage your breasts while he watches your face

It isn’t very important to him if you were to suck his cock or not. He wouldn’t ask for it, and often times would turn you down if you were to ask him if he wanted you to suck it. He’s all about pleasing you, however if you were to not ask and get between his legs, he wouldn’t turn you down. He would hold your hair back so he could look at you, softly moaning and telling you that it feels so good. He really likes how warm your mouth is around his cock, but he can’t wait to get back to pleasuring you again. A good option for him is 69 so that you can suck on his cock while he eats you out, but it’s another thing he often times turns down and tells you to turn around when you sit on his face and go to lean down. He would really like to feel your breasts against his body while he eats you out though

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He always takes it slow and gentle with you. He gives you as long as you need to adjust when he’s inside of you, making sure that you’re comfortable with the position and on the bed before he starts to slowly move inside of you when you tell him that he can. He makes sure that you’re wet enough and he always has lube on hand to make things easier if he’s struggling to get you to a point he deems worthy. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way, so he takes things very slow and he’s always very sweet

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kita is not really a fan of quickies. He likes to pleasure you, he likes to get you soaked and ready for him. He doesn’t like to strip off all of your clothes and push himself inside of you right away, he likes to take things slow. He likes to slowly undress you and occasionally slide his own shirt onto you. He likes to kiss and suck on your neck teasingly while he gently rubs at your clit to make you wet. He likes to take his time, he doesn’t like feeling rushed when it comes to pleasing you. However, something he would make an exception for would be if you were in the kitchen after the two of you had already been touching each other on the sofa. He would not mind slowly fucking you while you leaned over the counter while dinner cooked

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He might be willing to try a few new things with you, though nothing too extreme, and if either of you weren’t comfortable with the idea, it’s always easily considered dropped. When the two of you are trying new things, he’s always very vocal. Talking to you and making sure that you’re doing okay, that it isn’t hurting you and that you’re liking it so far. If he senses that you’re uncomfortable, he would stop and ask if you were okay immediately instead of waiting it out to see if you were just adjusting to the new sensation. Most of the time, the two of you stick to what you know

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Kita’s stamina is pretty impressive. He can go about 3-4 rounds depending on the night, eating you out between rounds to give himself a break and to continue pleasuring you until you were an overstimulated mess around him. If you were really in the mood and weren’t done, he could push himself and go 5-6 rounds, but afterwards he would be dead exhausted, and typically the 5th or 6th round happens in the shower so the two of you can get a head start on getting clean

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He isn’t really big on the idea of using things in the bedroom. He likes the way things are— getting you off with his fingers and tongue. He’s proud of the way that he can make you gush around his fingers, and dare he say that it’s given him a bit of an ego. He doesn’t really want the help of a vibrator to make you gush. He thinks he can do it just fine on his own

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kita doesn’t tease you much, only edging you once or twice. He likes to give you what you want. Making you happy makes him happy, it’s always been that way. However he thinks that it is adorable when you beg for him because you don’t have to and he’s going to give you what you want even if you demand it. He wouldn’t stop you from begging if that’s what you wanted to do, but he wouldn’t make you either

V = Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

Kita is very vocal. His moans are typically soft and right by your ear. He’ll give a few scattered grunts and soft groans, though his moans are pretty low and from the back of his throat. His sounds are very consistent in the way that even when he’s cumming he doesn’t get too much louder and his moans don’t get high or whiny. He also talks to you a lot, making sure you’re feeling good, praising you, etc. He likes to keep decently quiet so that he can hear you because it’s something that both gets him off and helps him know that he’s doing good for you

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kita is a big cuddler. He loves to curl up with you on a rainy day with a good book and just read together. He likes to hold you close every single night in bed. After dinner, the thing that he’s most excited for is to curl up with you on the sofa and watch something or just talk about your separate days. He likes to lay on his back at night and have you laying on your side with one of your legs around his waist, his hand on your thigh and your hand on his chest, softly tracing patterns over his night shirt before you fall asleep with your hand flat on his chest. You relax him after long, stressful days and he only hopes he does the same for you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kita’s dick is pretty thick and it stretches you out well. His cock is around 6.6 inches long. Kita is a very clean man, shaving and taking care of himself to make sure that he smells fresh not only for you, but for himself as well. He shaves his balls quite frequently as well. He is also pretty healthy, so his cum wouldn’t have a distinctly gross taste to it, and because it’s so rare that you really get that much in your mouth, it always shocks you by being sort of sweet. Kita is good with his cock, knowing just how deep to push it inside of you at what pace to make you lose your mind around him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive truthfully isn’t very high. He would have sex with you whenever you asked, however he would only initiate it maybe once or twice a week. Both because he loves to simply curl up with you and enjoy a nice quiet night together where you talk to each other about your new interests and how each others separate days were, but also because he doesn’t want you to think that he’s only in this for your body. As much as he does love having sex with you and he loves pleasuring you, Kita would never want you to feel like anything less than the love of his life and more of a sex object

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep until you do. He has no trouble staying awake if you’re struggling, and he’ll do anything he can to help you out. Whether that be getting a small snack because you’re hungry, making you some tea, humming to you and softly rubbing your back while you curled up in his warm arms, or getting up with you to make some tea to help you sleep. He’d whisper sweet words about how much he loves you, sometimes listing off things he loves the most about you before you fall asleep. He’ll also massage your head to help you sleep if you wanted him to, and he loves to hold hands while you’re sleeping together

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Note

ayoo let me get fucked by akaashi and kuroo at the same time :3

HAHAHAHA omg what I love about this pairing is that you just know Kuroo will be like a hyperactive kitten while Akaashi is just there wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into regretting all his life decisions. BUT the fact that he still gets a taste of you makes it all worth it even if Kuroo does annoy the shit out of him.

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Dirty Talk

You giggle and squeal as Kuroo suddenly hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder, playfully slapping your ass as you lightly make a show of pounding your fists on his back before extending your arms and making grabby hands at Akaashi. The editor sighs, staring at your childish antics with a deadpanned expression, but he’s always been weak for you and he lets you excitedly grab his hand and allows himself to be dragged along after the two of you.

Kuroo throws you on the mattress so hard you bounce back and you wildly flail, only to let out a quiet grunt as a tall lean body pounces on you none too gently, letting his body slump and go limp on top of you, jokingly suffocating you and playing dead as you laugh and attempt to shove him off to no avail. But luckily your savior with blue eyes is there to rescue you and you smugly smirk at a confused Kuroo who’s now staring wide eyed at the two of you from his new position on the floor, courtesy of a hard shove from the ex-setter.

You loudly moan, emphasizing your hand motions and the arch of your body as you pull Akaashi into a kiss, sighing blissfully as your lips lock, letting him take control as he sensually explores your mouth, hands gently running and caressing every inch of your body as he carefully helps you remove your clothes. And Kuroo pouts, feeling left out and forgotten, only to open his mouth in disbelief when you briefly turn to look his way and stick your tongue teasingly out at him before turning your attention back to the man currently holding you.

But both of you startle when there’s a sudden additional weight on the bed and you whimper as a hot wet tongue licks and bites down the side of your neck, calloused hands punishingly pinching your nipples.

“That wasn’t very nice of either of you.”

Akaashi scoffs, half a mind to say something snarky right back at the messy haired man, but he’s distracted, attention focused solely on you once again as Kuroo wrangles more and more pained and pleasured moans from you as he continues to mark up your skin, and he coos, tenderly kissing your slack open mouth.

“Is Kuroo being mean? Want me to make you feel better?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, fingers already drifting down to your inner thighs and you clutch at Akaashi’s shoulders, eyes rolling and head falling back on Kuroo as the editor gently circles and rubs your clit. It’s so much, the delicious fire burning in your stomach from the stimulation of both your clit and nipples mixed with the electrifying jolts from every nip and harsh tweak Kuroo laces his touches with. But it’s not enough and before you know it, you’re pleading for more.

And how could Akaashi deny the hazy lust in your eyes, the way you’re desperately humping down on his hand, the slick pooling between your thighs?

It’s embarrassingly easy for him to slide a finger inside of him and he smirks as he quickly adds a second finger, curling his fingers leisurely as he takes in how overwhelmed you look from just a couple of digits, drool beginning to trickle from the corner of your pretty mouth, your pussy tightening around him with every filthy word Kuroo growls in your ear.

“Look at you, kitten. You already look like a dumb broken slut from a couple of fingers. How are you going to take both our cocks?”

Your breath hitches and Akaashi groans as you clamp down on his fingers at those words, pussy growing even wetter and he nudges a third finger inside of you.

“Yeah, you like the thought of that? Want to be stuffed full of cock? Of course you love that, you little whore. Our little whore.”

And that’s all it takes for you to come undone and both men groan as your body convulses and thrashes between them, Akaashi continuing his stimulation of both your drenched pussy and your clit, Kuroo tenderly kissing the back of your neck as he continues rolling his nipples between your fingers.

You let them help you ride out the waves, letting yourself get lost in the sensations until you’re trembling, whimpering as it borders too much. And you give both of them a loopy grin as they smile fondly down at you.

“There’s our silly slut. Welcome back, sweetheart. Ready to keep on going?”

Keep on going?

You gasp as something hard nudges at your sopping wet pussy, your nails digging into Akaashi’s shoulders as he slowly bottoms out inside of you, sinking into the sweet kisses and encouragements Kuroo peppers you with. You’re so full, deliciously full, and as you adjust to the cock inside of you, you can feel arousal flaring up inside of you once again.

“Kei-Keiji, please fuck me, please fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, FUCK!”

You scream as the normally reserved man seemingly snaps, and suddenly it’s all you can do to hang on as blinding pleasure drowns you with every thrust of Akaashi’s hips, sobbing in pleasure and surprise at the feral pace he sets. But a foreign touch reaches you through the fog and you weakly turn your head, whimpering when Kuroo catches your lips in a kiss as he continues to trace the rim of your puckered hole with lube covered fingers.

“You’re going to be good and take both of us together, right?”

And you barely get a chance to nod before he pushes one knuckle inside of your tight hole, chuckling at how your mouth opens impossibly wide as you gasp and silently scream.

He takes his time, almost painstakingly so, and you’re a writhing, desperate mess as you cry and beg him to hurry up, sniffling when all he does is just scissor his fingers inside of you, adding an obscene amount of lube. But he slyly grins when he finally hears what he’s waiting for, hears you lewdly and explicitly begging for his cock.

“What a fucking cock slut.”

You don’t even feel embarrassed at his words, just giddy and deliriously happy and relieved when he finally slides his cock inside of you and both men groan, cocks twitching at how you wantonly smile, looking like debauchery itself, and they swear they can see your brain melting in the mix of drool and tears leaking down your face.

And you wouldn’t be surprised if your mind was broken, it certainly feels like it as both cocks plunge in and out of you, Kuroo matching Akaashi’s break necking pace.

Your breasts bounce from the force of their thrusts and you’re so close, stumbling on the edge once again, unable to think of anything else except cocks and cumming, incoherent slurred words and sounds slipping past your lips. All it takes is Akaashi once again reaching down between your legs and Kuroo biting down hard on your shoulder to have you crashing and you wail as you fall apart, dragging both men with you as your walls clench and milk them dry.

You feel like jelly as your trembling body is gently laid down, still drowning in post-coital bliss, and your heavy eyelids flutter as your body tries to sink into slumber. But you blearily blink your eyes, a questioning hum as something swipes down your leg and your face heats in shame when Kuroo grins at you, cum on his fingertip and suddenly you’re all too aware of how sticky your inner thighs and pussy feel, obediently and shyly letting him stick his finger in your mouth and sucking it clean.

“Get some rest while you can, kitten. Because we’re doing this all over again as soon as you wake up. You have two other holes I want to test out.”

Kuroo yelps when he’s roughly shoved out of your line of vision and suddenly blue eyes are kindly gazing at you.

“Ignore the idiot. Get as much rest as you need.”

And you’re quick to listen, eyes almost instantly closing and dozing off as the two men quietly bicker in the background while cleaning you up and tucking you in bed.

#haikyuu smut #kuroo smut #akaashi smut #kuroo x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #Kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu x reader

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liquorisce · 3 years ago

Text

don't stop, said she

rating: E (nsfw, 18+ only)

pairing: eren x mikasa, snk

summary: ... He likes seeing her like this, spread out on the table in front of him, naked and breathless. (pwp)

a/n: this is written for eremikasmutweek2021 (on twitter), and really, its an excuse to a) indulge in horny EM and b)practice writing smut - this was the result of a 1h writing sprint

(ao3) / pt 2 / pt 3

He likes seeing her like this, spread out on the table in front of him, naked and breathless.

What he likes even more is her squirming, squirming under the restraints of the rope that ties her ankles to the legs of the table, pulling against the ties that restrain her wrists above her head.

She isn't used to being unable to do anything physically, and it wracks her nerves. She shows her discomfort (with her lack of control) by the way she struggles, hands pulling, breasts thrusting in the air, as her gray eyes watch him in anticipation and helplessness.

He's spent so many nights with her (with her body), lost in their passion, but he appreciates this new dynamic, this powerplay... likes watching the lines and curves that make up Mikasa Ackerman.

He watches the pretty flush rise on her neck as she attempts to raise herself and make eye contact. "This is a bit tighter than I imagined, Eren," -

There’s really no point to anything she might say, that she can't move, or that she’s frustrated, he can see it, and he enjoys it, so instead he cuts her off and says, “... Did I ask you to get up?”

“... I, I can’t see you from over here,” and it's true, she can't, because she's spread on her back on the wooden table, legs and arms firmly restrained, and even straining to look at him where he stands is a task.

“But I can see just fine.” He pauses, his eyes darkening as he traces a finger across the inside of her thighs (she shivers) “... and that’s all that matters, right?”

His fingers move almost carelessly, flitting across her folds. He's barely touched her, but he can feel her heat, her wetness, dripping down her legs. “... You’re leaking on to the table, Mikasa,” he smirks, green eyes clearly enjoying the embarrassment on her features. “... I’m gonna have to make you clean this up, later.”

He thrusts two fingers into her without warning. The honest, surprised, and ashamed cry that escapes her lips, makes his mouth water. He is torn between finishing this play, between enjoying the torment of the woman in front of him, completely at his mercy, and just giving in to the desire to consume those little pleas with his mouth.

He moves leisurely as she gasps, little broken cries of his name, setting a pace that was deep, but maddeningly slow. “... Open your mouth,” he murmurs, and he traces the two fingers that were inside her on her lips, and watches as her tongue peeks out of her own volition. She licks them shamelessly, and without deliberate sensuality (because Mikasa never needs to try) and he feels his breathing quicken.

He leans over and kisses her messily, despite himself, because he can’t help himself after the show that he’s witnessed, and he can taste the tang of her juices along with her passion. She kisses him desperately, because this is the most contact she’s had with him, and she wants more than just his fingers, she wants all of him, and she tries to tell him, with her mouth and her body. “Eren,” she gasps, attempting to press her bare breasts against him, “... take off your pants, please,” - and he squeezes, hard, “... I want to feel you.”

“... So greedy,” he murmurs, as he steps back from her and resumes his position at the end of the table. “But we agreed, didn’t we?” He spreads her legs further, appreciating the sight between her legs, “... it isn’t about what you want. And me... I just want to taste you.”

Her complaining settles down into a soft gasp, as Eren touches her with his tongue. First on the outer folds of her lips, and then inside, probing, tasting and licking. When he comes up for her air, she’s panting and the rope around her wrists have begun to mark her struggles.

(Despite her outward struggle, there's something about her own obedience, about pleasing eren, that pleases her)

He licks his lips, wiping away the mess she’s made on his face. “... Please,” she whines, and he takes a finger to press on her sensitive spot, applying the pressure he knows she likes.

“Please”, he mocks, “... What are you pleading for, Mikasa?” He doesn’t get an answer from her apart from incoherent panting, eyes shut, and head tilted back in pleasure.

Cruelly, he withdraws his fingers, knowing fully well the tell tale quiver of her thighs, the needy rasps of her voice were only signalling how close she was.

“... Eren,” she gasps, involuntary tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, at the loss of pressure (pleasure) from his fingers. “... Why did you s-stop,” -

“You didn’t answer me, Mikasa.”

Squirming, trying desperately to rub her thighs against each other for some friction (she forgets her restraints) she can barely recollect what he asked of her.

“I asked what you were pleading for,” he says, sounding completely displeased. “... I guess I shouldn’t take you seriously after all.”

“I’m sorry, Eren,” she whimpers, “please, come back.” because she’s losing her mind, she can’t see him, where he stands, but all she knows is that he’s impossibly far away.

“... Come back, where?”

He watches her hesitate, test her words carefully, “... where you were before… please.”

“... Hmm?.”

“... Where you were touching me, Eren… You know what I want…”

He's supposed to be the one in control, but it’s insane the effect a breathless, whimpering Mikasa has on him. He’s been straining within his pants for a while now, and on any other day, he would have shucked his pants off, and sheathed himself within her tight wetness hours ago.

And even though he does know what she wants, he knows it really well, he wants to test her limits, wants to test his own control, so he says firmly, “... You’ll have to spell it out for me, Mikasa.”

“... Touch me, Eren,” she sobs, gray eyes hazy and unfocused, “Touch my pussy, please.”

“Good girl,” he breathes harshly, “... You’ll get what you want.” and he does what she wants, what she likes, the circular motions on her clit that always manages to get her off… but only for the briefest moment. He thrusts his fingers into her again, because he cant help himself.

She cries out, desperately, his name or a meaningless plea to some god, he isn't sure, because he’s way too focused on just how easy it is to slip inside her by this point, how there isn't even any pretense anymore, because that’s how wet and dripping she is. For him.

He quickens the pace, setting a punishing rhythm this time, because he wants her to open completely for him, wants her to let go and feel nothing else but his fingers deep inside of her.

She doesn't take too long to cum on his fingers, noisily but prettily, her whole body shaking on the wooden dining table. He watches her quietly, enjoying the sight of her juices glistening down her pussy and her thighs.

When her panting settles into a more consistent rhythm of heavy breathing, he asks, dryly, “... enjoyed that, huh?” He’s still hard and wanting, but she’s probably sore, so fucking her would have to wait.

“... Mmm, untie me,” she murmurs, and as an afterthought, she adds, “... please.”

He chuckles, walking over to untie her wrists first, and then her ankles. She slips off the table awkwardly, and because she can barely find her balance, she stumbles into Eren’s arms, naked and sensitive. “... That was nice,” she mumbles, pulling him down for a kiss. She presses herself against him, against his chest, and running a hand against the length of his hardness.

Eren stills, catching her hand in his path. “... Distracted already? I was serious about you cleaning up the mess you made on the table.”

She colours immediately, “... I will, but don’t you want to…,” -

And oh boy, he wants to, but he keeps his firm expression and says, “... what I want, is for you to clean the table, Mikasa.” He leans down and brushes his lips against her sweetly.

“... with your tongue.”

a/n: welp, not my best, but im practicing. feel free to give me feedback!! i am having complicated emotions to my writing nowadays, it feels lacking, so i promise to take all comments constructively!

#eremika #eremika smut #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #liquorisce fanfiction #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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thegirlwithataser · 4 years ago

Note

hey hey, could you write buck and eddie in a car accident with hurt!buck and love confession from eddie? thank youu

Hi! Thank you so much for this prompt, I hope I did it justice. I really enjoyed writing this, so let me know what you think!

If you have a prompt for anything surrounding 911 on Fox send it to me and I can almost guarantee I'll write it for you!

You can also read this on ao3!

Never Letting You Go

Eddie doesn’t mean to tell Buck that he’s in love with him as the other man bleeds out. It just kind of happens.

They’d been driving back to Eddie’s house after a shift, Buck offering to drive Eddie to and from work while his truck was in the shop. They’d been joking about something Chimney had said during shift when Eddie saw a truck careening towards them, running the red light and going at least seventy-five in a forty-five. Eddie had barely gotten out Buck’s name in warning before the Jeep jolted and everything spun.

Eddie comes back to the present slowly. His vision is blurry and he tastes something metallic. Blood, his mind supplies. His ears are ringing and for a moment he can’t remember where he is.

It all crashes back to him as his vision clears partially. Car accident. They were in a car accident. The jeep seems to be upright, but there’s glass everywhere and the metal frame of the car is bent unnaturally.

Buck, Eddie’s mind screams at him. Where is Buck?

Eddie turns his head, sending a sharp pain to his shoulder as he moves.

His breath rushes right out of him when he looks at his best friend in the driver’s seat. His eyes are closed and there’s blood trickling down his face. Too much blood. Buck isn’t moving and Eddie can’t tell if he’s breathing. Frantically, he tries to reach over to Buck but he can’t move. Seatbelt, right.

Eddie groans as he manages to unclick his seatbelt. He extends his arms, bruised, but not broken, and sighs in relief. He’s able to maneuver himself closer to Buck with some difficulty, forcefully ignoring the throbbing in his head and focusing on getting them out of this. Alive, preferably.

Buck still isn’t moving but looking closely, Eddie can see the shallow rise and fall of the other man’s chest.

“Buck,” he says. His voice is scratchy and desperate but he doesn’t care. Buck has to be ok. He’s going to be. Eddie reaches over and puts his hand on Buck’s cheek. “Buck, come on, I need you to wake up.” Nothing happens. Eddie is panicking now. “Buck! Wake up, damn it!”

Buck doesn’t respond. Eddie drops his hand from Buck’s face and his head rolls to the side. Eddie forces his knees under him on the seat so he can lean over Buck and assess the damage.

Buck’s left arm is visibly broken, but that will heal. Eddie can’t see his legs, so he has no idea if they’re broke or not. He prays that they’re fine, Buck can’t handle redoing the crush injury from the fire truck. There’s blood on Buck’s shirt and Eddie reaches out to pull it up. There’s a long gash on Buck’s abdomen, deep enough that he’s going to need stitches. There’s another cut on Buck’s neck. It looks like it missed the carotid but it’s bleeding heavily. That combined with the cut on Buck’s abdomen and the cuts on his head could mean that he’ll bleed out if they don’t get help soon.

Eddie takes off his own shirt, faintly registering that there’s blood on it. He must be bleeding somewhere, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. “Buck, please, you need to wake up.” Eddie puts the shirt on the gash on Buck’s torso and presses down hard, hoping to stem the blood flow. “Buck,” he sobs, “Buck, you have to wake up. Wake up! Buck, don’t leave me, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to Christopher. Please, Buck, we need you, I need you. Buck! Please, I love you, you can’t die, not like this.”

Eddie is truly crying now, desperate to hear his best friend's voice, to see the light in his eyes when he laughs.

Eddie hears Buck groan right as he hears the sirens and he nearly sobs in relief. “Buck, that’s it, wake up.” Eddie wipes the blood away from Buck’s eyes, still pressing his other hand over the cut on his stomach. “Come on, Buck.”

“Ed—“ Buck’s voice catches in his throat. His eyes blink open slowly, but only slightly and Eddie lets out another sob.

“I’m here, Buck, I’m right here.” Buck’s eyes flutter closed again and Eddie’s panic is back. “Hey, no, you gotta stay awake for me. Buck, open your eyes.”

With what looks like a considerable amount of effort, Buck opens his eyes. He mutters incoherently but Eddie nods. “I’ve got you, help us coming, you just have to stay awake.”

Buck nods before groaning in pain. A paramedic runs up to the car, bag in hand being followed closely by a firefighter holding jaws. Eddie nearly passed out from relief.

What comes next is more of a blur than anything else. They get Buck out of the car first and onto a stretcher, rushing him over to an ambulance. Eddie goes next, and honestly doesn’t remember much of the ride to the hospital.

Doctors rush around the emergency room as he gets checked out. A few cuts that need stitches and a mild concussion but overall he’ll be fine. He asks everyone that passes him if they know anything about an Evan Buckley but no one will tell him anything.

What if—no. No, he’s not doing that to himself, he’s not letting himself go down that road.

“Dad!” Eddie whips his head around too fast and feels a sharp pain behind his eyes. Chris is coming towards him as fast as he can with Carla’s hand on his shoulder.

“Chris,” Eddie breathes out, deliriously grateful to see his son. He pulls him into a tight hug, hoping he never has to let go.

“Dad,” Chris repeats into his neck, holding him just as tightly. “Are you ok?”

Eddie pulls back slightly to brush a piece of hair away from his son’s eyes and give him a watery smile. “Yeah, buddy, I’m ok?”

Chris nods, looking unsure. “Where’s Buck?”

Eddie chokes back a sob, looking out at the emergency room, then to Carla, then back to Chris. “I’m not sure, but we’ll see him as soon as we can, ok?”

Carla puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll go see what I can find out.”

She disappears around the corner, presumably to go harass some nurses into telling her what they know. Eddie helps Chris onto the bed and settles back against the pillows, holding his son close. He starts to drift off immediately, even though he knows he needs to stay awake.

“Eddie, oh my god,” Maddie’s voice snaps him back to reality and he stares groggily at her.

“Maddie?” he finally manages to say.

She sighs, eyes roaming over him, obviously trying to assess the damage. “I was on my way to work when they called about Evan. The nurse says he’s still in surgery but directed me to you,” she explains before he’s able to ask.

“Did she say anything else?” Eddie asks, fully awake now and desperate to see Buck.

Maddie shakes her head, looking like she’s barely holding back tears. “No, she didn’t. God, what happened?”

Eddie closes his eyes, fighting back tears as well. “There was a car accident, a truck sped through a red light and hit the driver’s side. I don’t remember much else, but it was bad. I’m mostly fine, a few stitches and a mild concussion but Buck—“ Eddie’s cut off by a sob and he has to look away.

Maddie’s eyes are wide when he finally looks back at her. She nods and clearly puts a lot of effort into composing herself. “He’ll be fine, he has to be. Everyone else should be here any minute,” she says softly. “Chim took Jee-Yun to Mrs. Lee and Bobby, Athena, and Hen said they’re on their way.”

Eddie nods, looking down at Christopher who is sitting silently in his arms.

“He’s still in surgery,” Carla says, appearing around the curtain again.

Eddie nods, thankful that she’s here if nothing else. Maddie looks up at Carla hopefully. “Did they tell you anything else?”

Carla shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, dear.”

Maddie nods, shrinking into herself as silence settles over their little crowd.

Eddie’s doctor comes back in a few minutes later and gives him the all clear as long as he follows concussion protocol. Eddie thanks him with less gratitude than he’s probably owed and follows Maddie and Carla to the waiting room with his hand on Chris’s shoulder.

Bobby and Athena rush into the waiting room mere moments after the other four sit down. They both frantic as Carla waves them over.

“What happened?” Bobby asks, his voice desperate.

“You said there was an accident?” Athena adds.

“Eddie!” They all look around and see Hen rushing towards them. She pulls Eddie into a tight hug, looking terrified. “Are you alright? Where’s Buck?”

“I’m—“ Eddie can’t get out the words. He can’t say anything. How is he supposed to explain this to the people he loves, the only family Buck really has he… he can’t.

Carla steps forward, filling them all in on what happened, Eddie’s condition, and what they know about Buck. Eddie sits silently the whole time, barely registering a word.

Chimney arrives a few minutes later and someone must explain the situation to him but Eddie doesn’t hear it, doesn’t notice anything around him.

They sit there in silence for what feels like hours. Dozens of people filter in and out of the waiting room as they all wait for news. Eddie sees a few people crying. Me too, he thinks.

At some point someone must have gone to get coffee because a hot cup is pressed into his hands. He doesn’t drink it.

“Family of Evan Buckley?” a female voice says. Eddie hears it distantly, not registering what’s going on until Maddie stands up shakily.

“That’s us, uh, I’m his sister. This is Eddie, he was in the car with Evan.” Eddie snaps his head up and watches the doctor walk over. She’s wearing a scrub cap.

“Of course, well, Mr. Buckley has just come out of surgery. There was quite a bit of internal bleeding from the accident but we got him fixed up.” The doctor looks at Eddie. “The paramedics told me you stopped the blood flow before they got there. You saved his life.”

Eddie nods, unable to say anything. The doctor gives him a small smile and turns back to Maddie. “He has a few broken ribs, a broken arm, a pretty bad concussion, and more stitches than I’d like to see on one patient but he’s stable. He’s still asleep, but you can go visit him if you’d like. We just ask that you limit it to two at a time.”

“So he’s going to be ok?” Maddie asks, a drop of hope finally seeping into her voice.

The doctor smiles. “He should be just fine. He’s going to need lots of rest and someone to keep an eye on him with that concussion, but he’s okay.”

Maddie sobs in relief. “Thank you. Can you take us to him?” She looks over at Eddie, motioning for him to stand up. He does, on autopilot. His mind is reeling. Buck is okay. He’s alive. I love him.

Eddie follows Maddie and the doctor down the hallway silently. The mantra of Buck is okay continuing in his head on repeat.

Maddie goes in first as Eddie takes a moment to steel himself for the sight that lays ahead.

Buck is unconscious when they walk it, although the doctor had already told them that. He’s hooked up to a heart monitor abd a few other machines are beeping around him but overall he looks better than Eddie expected. He’s breathing on his own, there’s no more blood caking his face. He has bruises up and down the left side of his body and the cuts in his face are still ugly and red but he’s alive.

Eddie doesn’t realize he’s crying until Maddie grabs his hand, forcing his eyes to meet her gaze. “He’s alive, Eddie. You saved him.”

Eddie shakes his head. “He was only on that road because of me, he wouldn’t have—“

“Stop.” Maddie’s voice is firm and there’s a strong emotion flaring in her eyes. “This was not your fault, this is that idiot driver’s fault. You did everything right, Eddie. You saved my baby brother’s life.”

Eddie stares back at her, tears stream down both their faces. Without warning, Maddie pulls him into a bone crushing hug and he winces, pain flaring from where she’d hit a bruise.

“Sorry!” She says, pulling back quickly. “I forgot.”

Eddie manages a watery smile. “It’s ok.”

They each take a seat on either side of Buck’s bed. There’s a cast on his left arm, so maddie can’t grab his hand. Instead, she reaches out and brushes a lock of hair off his face. “You’ve gotta stop scaring me like this, Evan,” she says sadly.

They sit together quietly for ages. At some point, Eddie takes Buck’s right hand in his own and squeezes. He puts his other hand over Buck’s wrist, feels the pulse beat in time with the monitor.

“I told him that I love him,” Eddie whispers. Maddie’s gaze snaps to his face, shock clear in her expression. She doesn’t say anything, simply sits and waits. Eddie takes a shaky breath, staring at Buck’s face. “He was unconscious, back at the accident and I—he needed to wake up. I needed him to wake up, I couldn’t let him die. I wasn’t thinking about anything but keeping him alive and it just—I said that he couldn’t leave me like that because I love him.”

“Eddie,” Maddie says, barely above a whisper. She looks like she wants to say something else but then Buck groans and Eddie feels Buck’s fingers tighten around his own. “Hey, Evan, are you awake?” Maddie asks, immediately moving to rest her hand on his cheek.

Buck makes a noise that almost sounds like a word and his eyes flutter open. He looks around the room slowly, his eyes pausing on Maddie before they land on Eddie. He squeezes Eddie’s hand again and Eddie chokes on a delirious laugh. “You’re awake,” he says, almost in awe.

Buck cracks a small smile. “Did you mean it?” His voice is scratchy and it comes out weak.

Eddie's heart starts beating harder in his chest. “Mean what?”

Buck looks down at their intertwined hands then back up at Eddie. “At the accident. You told me you loved me.”

Maddie stares between the two of them, fighting a smile. Eddie gapes at Buck. “You heard that?”

Buck nods. “Did you mean it?” he repeats.

Eddie is at a complete loss for words. Buck was unconscious, he was dying, he—he heard Eddie? Eddie gives a miniscule nod.

Buck laughs, although it sounds more like a cough. “Good. I love you too.”

Eddie stares at Buck. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Eddie must have died at the accident because this isn’t possible. “Buck, you—“

“I love you,” Buck repeats, firmer this time. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Eddie.”

And suddenly Eddie is grinning. Buck is alive and he loves Eddie back and none of this should be happening but it is and Eddie is crying again. “God, I love you so much, Buck. I thought you were dead.”

Buck smiles. “I can’t believe you waited until you thought I was dead to tell me you love me.”

Eddie huffs out a surprised laugh. Maddie is looking between them both like she can’t decide if she’s happy or angry. “I didn’t want to ruin anything,” Eddie explains. It feels like an inadequate reason now that he knows Buck loves him too.

Buck rolls his eyes at Eddie fondly. “Is Chris here?” he asks hopefully.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, uh, I can—“

“I’ll go get him,” Maddie says, interrupting him. She shoots her a grateful smile. He’s not ready to let go of Buck’s hand just yet.

Buck comes to stay with Eddie and Chris while he’s recovering. Bobby and Athena offered, since Maddie and Chimney have baby Jee-Yun to take care of, but Buck declines.

“I’d rather be with you,” he says, when Eddie asks.

It’s a long recovery for Buck, Eddie is back at work after a few weeks off. But this is better than when his leg was crushed. Buck isn’t afraid that he won’t be able to return to the 118 this time around. Eddie worries about him all the time, but he knows that Buck has Chris and Carla with him all the time and at night Eddie gets to climb into bed with the man he loves.

Eventually, Buck is completely recovered and asks if he should go back to his apartment. Eddie doesn’t even hesitate before saying no. He just got Buck, he’s not letting go of him. Not ever letting go if he has any say in it.

#prompt fill #fic request #911 fox #911 on fox #911 fanfic #911 fic #evan buckley #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #christopher diaz #maddie buckley

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

Text

pirate king (13) || atz

“Master!” You burst into the sickbay, eyes brimming over with tears as you desperately search for that head of green hair that has grown so familiar to you. You ignore the stunned faces of some of the pirates who are getting their wounds treating, the concerned glances that some give you, only to see Seonghwa standing there with a basket of dirty cloths in his arms and a startled look on his face at the commotion.

Then he sees the tears tracks winding down your face and his expression melts into one of horrified concern, he puts the basket down and moves to reach for you.

You simply throw yourself into his arms without waiting for him and sob into his chest, openly weeping in full view of all the pirates in the sickbay. The cook staggers back a couple of steps from the force of your embrace, but manages to upright himself before the two of you go bowling over onto the floor.

Seonghwa is warm. He always has been. Gentle, kind, compassionate and tender-hearted. And you’ve never been so grateful for a man like him. He lets you cry, hands softly winding in your hair, a little confused as to why it’s suddenly several inches shorter and out of its usual braid. You hear Jongho’s heavy footsteps behind you on the wooden floor, and his face must say something because Seonghwa’s body stiffens, his embrace around you tightening just a little as he folds you into his arms.

“What did you do, Jongho?”

Seonghwa’s voice is deliberately neutral. He trusts Jongho, of course. But the last person you were with was indeed the young battlemaster and he knows Jongho is terribly awkward with new people. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jongho had said something silly on accident and ended up causing you to get upset.

But Jongho merely exhales uncomfortably, looking down at his boots. “We should talk about this in private.” His voice holds no room for argument.

Seonghwa frowns a little at this apparent need for privacy, long fingers gently stroking through your hair as your warm tears soak into his shirt sleeves. “Jihyun, help me call San and tell him to come to his room immediately.”

A tall pirate nods, rising to his feet. “Of course, Seonghwa-sunbae.” He moves off quickly, disappearing from sight. Seonghwa then puts an arm around your shoulders, sweetly ushering you into the backroom where you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of weeks and sits you down on San’s bed, wiping the tears from your eyes with a tender hand. Jongho follows behind, shutting the door firmly behind you.

You feel weak, boneless, as the words run through your mind again and again on repeat.

“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”

You reach out a hand. Seonghwa looks puzzled for a moment, but you think the experience must have at least made you and Jongho closer somehow, because he understands immediately and clasps your hands gently, almost timidly in his, as if afraid that you might break if he uses too much force.

Jongho probably could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, but he cradles your hand like it’s a newborn baby chick.

“Just before you get the wrong idea, hyung, I didn’t do anything.” The young battlemaster says firmly, but there is guilt lingering in his voice. You know it’s not because he did anything to you, but because he regrets making you visit the fortune teller in the first place.

Seonghwa frowns in confusion as he moves to light the lamp in the room. “Then why is s-” He coughs lightly as the smoke from the lamp gets into his eyes and nose. “Why is he so upset, Jongho?”

You curl up on San’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that can stop you from falling apart.

The maknae opens his mouth to explain, but then San enters the room.

His face is smoothed over, carefully blank, but you can feel the pulse of his energy spiking erratically, feeling more like a burning stove rather than a warm radiance. Jongho and Seonghwa must both feel it as well, because they both stiffen minutely.

“Hyung, we need to talk-” Jongho begins to say, but San ignores him and makes a beeline straight for you, sitting next to you on the bed and patting his lap.

“Here.”

You don’t decline the invitation, laying your head in his lap and curling up beneath the sheets like you do every time you get nightmares. You press your nose against his side, and immediately the smell of him fills your lungs. Green tea, honey, and floral notes of ylang ylang and lavender mixed with the odd herb he’s been experimenting with combine to create a scent that is uniquely his, one that never fails to calm you down even in the fiercest of storms.

His hand comes to rest in your hair, carding through the strands gently.

Only when he’s sure that you’re no longer in hysterics and on the verge of a panic attack does he turn to Jongho with sharp piercing eyes.

“So, would you mind explaining to me why my apprentice is in this state?”

You feel bad for Jongho, having to endure all this questioning by himself when he technically was only trying to help you and encourage you, but San shushes you the second you open your mouth.

“I want to hear this from him.” His eyes don’t leave the young battlemaster.

“Well, do you guys remember the first time I came to Tortuga, I visited a fortune teller?” Jongho asks slowly. His hyungs exchange looks, and then Seonghwa nods hesitantly.

“Why?”

“I brought him to visit the fortune teller.” Jongho mutters quietly, his voice small. You realise that even though Jongho may be the strongest, best fighter on board, he still submits himself to the authority of his older brothers. “And the fortune teller said some things…”

San’s eyes narrow as his fingers continue to brush through your hair. Seonghwa seats himself at San’s work table to listen to what Jongho has to say.

“She something about a jar of clay… and some secret that would ruin our trust in her...” Jongho mutters, shaking his head.

San’s fingers freeze in your hair.

“I mean… The secret that stowaway’s actually a woman isn’t quite secret, am I right?”

A terrified squeak leaves your mouth, momentarily pulling you out of your daze. You jerk up, staring at Jongho with wide eyes and your mouth hanging open in horror. Seonghwa shrugs in response to the maknae’s words.

“I did find out rather recently, so I suppose it’s no longer secret within us three then.”

You gulp. San stiffens slightly, but then you can feel his muscles relaxing next to you. “How did you find out, hyung?”

“When she hugged me earlier.” Seonghwa replies easily, much to your shock. Then he pauses, glancing at you hesitantly. “I could feel her… ah, chest through her clothes. I apologise deeply for any inappropriate actions I might have done under the impression you were a man.”

Your cheeks catch aflame as you stare at the cook in a mixture of both horror and embarrassment, your mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Jongho’s nose scrunches up at his words.

“That’s gross, hyung.”

Seonghwa sputters incoherently at his dongsaeng’s words, looking like a rapidly reddening tomato. “Well, excuse me for not knowing she was a woman! How about you say how you figured it out?”

Jongho halts in all action immediately, jaw working furiously. His own cheeks have started turning apple red, and he looks away to the side, mumbling under his breath.

“When the fortune teller grabbed her shirt, I saw-”

You bury your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment and scream. At this point, you don’t know what you are. Confused, shocked, mortified, everything. All you know you want to do is to crawl into a hole in the ground and slowly rot away, but then you then you remember you’re at sea in a ship and there is no hole in the ground for you to die in.

To your surprise, however, Jongho and Seonghwa don’t seem to be very affected by the fact that you are a woman. Jongho continues rambling on in spite of your mounting embarrassment.

“-her chest, okay? Well, not really her chest, but the bindings around her chest and I kind of guessed-”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” San covers your ears frantically before you can hear any more. “Let’s get back to the fortune teller bit. Jongho, do you remember everything she said?”

“Pretty much.” The young battlemaster turns to Seonghwa. “Hyung, do you think you could help me write it down before I forget?’

The cook picks up one of the stray quills on San’s worktable, pulling over a piece of blank paper. “Alright.”

Taking a deep breath, Jongho begins to recite the words from memory.

“Oh nameless one, child of the sea, you’re missing something very important to you.”

“Stowaway doesn’t have a name, so it does seem accurate.” Seonghwa mutters grimly, San nodding in agreement. The two of them are completely focused, intent on figuring out what the cryptic words of the fortune teller mean.

The sight warms you immensely despite the daze you’re in.

“And she is a pirate now, so the part of her being a child of the sea fits.” San adds, leaning his head on your shoulder. You shrug.

“She’s an amnesiac, so she’s missing her memories. We’ve solved the first bit. That’s good.” Jongho glances at the page as Seonghwa scribbles down their interpretation of the fortune teller’s words.

A frown tugs at his lips as he continues. “The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built. That’s the bit about her being a woman, isn’t it?”

Seas, it was weird hearing Jongho referring to you as her instead of he.

“I don’t see anything else that could be it.” San mutters thoughtfully, but Seonghwa cuts in.

“She could hear the voice of the sea monster that was chasing us the other time.”

Jongho’s jaw hits the ground. “You could do what?”

It almost amuses you how the young battlemaster is more shocked at the fact you could hear the sea monster’s voice as compared to the fact that you are a woman.

“Yeah.” You mumble under your breath, but Jongho’s eyes are huge with awe.

“That’s so cool!” For a moment, Jongho looks like the eighteen year old boy he is, still young, excitable, not quite a man yet, but he quickly catches himself and clears his throat. “Well, moving on. To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken into life. The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself.”

He glances around at all of you. “That sounds cryptic and completely unhelpful. And I have absolutely no idea what it means.”

“What trial do you think the fortune teller could be talking about?” San scratches at his hair, frowning as he racks his mind. Seonghwa shrugs, just as confused.

“Well then. I suppose we could just leave this here for now.” Jongho mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “A jewel resting in a jar of clay. That was when she went bat shit crazy and started shaking our stowaway here, demanding to know who’d made her.”

“Who made her?” Seonghwa questions, looking utterly bewildered as he jots them down. You feel your skin crawl at the words again. There seems to be some sort of significance to it that you can feel, something your mind screams at you to remember, but you can’t.

“She referred to stowaway as a ‘vessel that has only existed for a moon’, whatever the hell that meant.” Jongho supplies helpfully, and you feel San stiffen beside you.

Seonghwa looks equally uncomfortable as he glances at you. “A moon?” He repeats, hesitantly. You don’t know what the fortune teller was indicating when she said you had supposedly existed for a moon, but you don’t think she was referring to the silvery orb in the sky.

Your master frowns. “What I guess the fortune teller was referring to was a moon cycle. A vessel that has existed for a moon cycle.”

“Yes,” Seonghwa begins to argue, gesturing at you. “But how can she only have existed for one moon cycle?”

The two stare at each other for a while, both having some sort of internal battle as to what it could be. You tap Jongho’s arm frantically.

“How long is a moon cycle?”

At your question, Jongho swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. “A little over twenty eight days.”

You feel like someone has just slapped you across the face.

Twenty eight days?

Your face must be a real sight, because San and Seonghwa immediately rush to comfort you.

“It could just mean that you’ve been without your memory for that long.”

“Yes! I mean, you can’t be that young. Don’t worry about it. It must be interpretation.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, still in some sort of daze. “Right.” Seonghwa gives Jongho a chastening look for revealing something that affected you so much. The young battlemaster mumbles an apology under his breath.

Then San sighs, rubbing his temples. “Honestly, we should ask Yeosang for help with this. No one on this ship is as good with cryptic nonsense, long, complicated words and obscure references as he.”

Jongho nods agreement. “Sometimes I don’t even understand what hyung is saying.”

You nod slowly. To be honest with yourself, you don’t really know what you’d do without these people by your side. Even Jongho, who you’ve just begun to talk to today, has been nothing but infinitely kind and helpful to you. You almost want to slap your past self for being such a fool, for even thinking he could have a bad bone in him.

“Thank you.” Your words come out a little choked with emotion, but the three of them accept it all the same. San doesn’t say anything, but just pats your head as usual.

Seonghwa beams at you gently. “It’s no problem, stowaway. You’re part of the family now. We’d do anything in our power to help you.”

Jongho looks at you seriously. “Wait… but we forgot one last thing. The sea witch.”

Sea witch.

Seonghwa flinches while San shudders, shoulders curling inwards. You frown at the two of them, a little unnerved by their reactions towards the word. The sea witch can’t be very terrifying, can she? Magic tended to be nothing more than the arcane, and from what Jongho has told you, only rare people like San are able to use this inner energy to their benefit.

“What is it?”

“The sea witch.” San echoes, drumming his fingers on his thigh absentmindedly. “We should probably ask Yeosangie more about this before you start to get any ideas, but if the myths are true… the sea witch is a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find, surrounded by the sirens who serve her.”

“I read the legend of her when I was a child.” Seonghwa turns to you with a mixed look of both pity and worry. “The sea witch bargains with many beings, both supernatural and mortal, to make a deal. In the story I read, she gave a mermaid legs to be with the man she loved but took her voice.”

A deal.

Jongho meets your gaze, both your eyes drawn to the same object, the tiny crystal hanging at the end of your necklace.

The symbol of your bargain with the sea witch.

A headache starts throbbing at your temples, and you furiously rub at them, trying to ease the pain. Seonghwa notices almost at once and rises to his feet.

“We should let him-” He corrects himself. “-her rest.” San and Jongho nod agreement as they both rise to their feet.

“We’ll talk about this another day, apprentice.” San murmurs softly to you as you lie back on his bed, pulling the covers up to your nose. “We’ll talk to Yeosangie about this first, alright? He has a lot of books in Hongjoongie-hyung’s cabin, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Ok.” Your voice is small, and San gives you a warm smile before leaving the room, Jongho behind him.

But only Seonghwa lingers in the room for a moment, looking conflicted once more.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

The cook looks at you for a long, silent moment before he speaks.

“You should tell the crew you’re a woman soon.”

Your chest seizes up. Yes, you know that Seonghwa and Jongho didn’t especially mind that you were one, and neither did they begrudge you for keeping this secret, but you knew not everyone would be this understanding.

“Especially captain.”

You swallow nervously.

“I will.”

Seonghwa manages a last, weak smile at you before turning to leave. As you lie under the covers, you wonder what might happen if Hongjoong did take the fact that you were a woman badly.

What if he left you in some town like he’d promised to do the last time?

No. No. You couldn’t have that. Not when you’d just started finding constructive clues to your past, not when you’d just started gaining family.

You needed to wait. Not now. You couldn’t tell them now.

The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built.

It was a decision you would later come to regret.

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Healing (Because Gotham’s Winter Hurt You)

Based off of this fic, by @catxsnow

Word Count: 1231

Notes: Hello! If you haven't seen the post linked, please do before you read this work, or it might not make too much sense. It's 1000% worth the read. Also, be kind if you choose to comment, please. This is very personal and feels very raw. I wrote all of it down in one go and decided not to add anything to it after it was done, so it's all rather emotional to me. All that said, I hope you enjoy it!

“But... that’s just wrong.” Roy says, staring at Dick with concern.

Dick shrugs.

“He didn’t notice.”

“Well, he fucking should have.” Roy frowns, exasperated. He never wanted to break Batman’s face as much as he did now.

“I was the one that insisted on the uniform Roy.” Dick says “I should’ve just thought about that.”

“You were nine.” Roy shoots back “And you hadn’t even spent an entire year in Gotham to know what it’s winters are like.”

“I was smart enough to know that winters are cold.” Dick stares back at his friend “Besides, if I didn’t say anything it’s because I could take it.”

The redhead almost feels tears welling up in his eyes from how angry, frustrated, and scared he was for his friend. But he pushed those away; this wasn’t about him. He’d have time to cry and yell when he was alone in his room. He could put all of his frustrations into arrows and shoot them off into dummies during training. Right now, this was about Dick.

Roy reached across the table to hold his friends hand.

“He’s just such a little soldier, this one.” Jason’s voice popped up in his memories “He never sees how wrong Bruce is, all of the time. Would probably die for the man.”

Dick didn’t hold his hand, but he wasn’t pushing it away.

The acrobat’s eyes dropped to the ground.

“He didn’t mean it, he just never noticed it Roy.” He mumbles “He didn’t... It’s not his fault. He’s not a bad man. He’s not. He’s Batman, he can’t be a bad man.”

Even from the distance, Roy could see the wetness in Dick’s eyes.

“Dickie,” He calls “Dickie, look at me.” Dick shakes his head, like a stubborn child “Please.” Roy says in a softer voice.

He couldn’t just allow his friend to suffer like that.

He couldn’t let his friend keep on believing the ugly lies he had told himself.

Slowly, Dick peels his gaze from the floor and his sapphire eyes meet Roy’s. He was wrecked, just as much as he usually was; little cuts and bruises still healing from the fights, cheeks beginning to hollow from how little he had been eating and dark eye bags from the lack of sleep – and maybe lack of iron in his diet. But now, now there was another, brand new layer of mess. Now there were tears, threatening to spill out.

“It wasn’t his fault.” He still mumbles, and Roy couldn’t help but notice the ugly strands of saliva that clung to his friends lips as he spoke. The redhead wondered when was the last time he had eaten today.

“Dick-”

“It wasn’t... It can’t be his fault Roy.” Dick sobs, but he’s holding Roy’s hand now. Roy’s thumb slid gently across his friend's skin, feeling a scar from a small cut that had healed weird “It can’t...”

Roy could understand what he was trying to say.

It wasn’t his fault, because if it was his fault, every single certainty I had in this life will crumble right in front of my eyes.

That’s what Dick was feeling.

And it broke Roy’s heart that he’d be the one to kick down the first block of a painful domino trail.

But there was no one else there to do it.

Roy walks around the table they were sitting, not letting go of Dick’s hand for a second until he was close enough to pull him into a hug, shielding him from the world, hoping that this would make things easier for his friend.

“Dick. He should’ve noticed.” He says, pulling back to look at Dick, really look at him for the first time in some time. Dick looks down and shakes his head so Roy nods to contradicts his movements “Yes, yes he should have.”

“No, I-I should’ve said something, he wasn’t a mind reader, it’s not-”

“Dick, you were nine and he was your father.” Roy grabs his shoulder gently, trying to get Dick to look at him again.

“He just... you can’t blame him for... he just didn’t see it, it’s not like he was beating me...”

“Yes, but that’s still bad.” Roy insists “You understand how it’s still bad, right?” Dick still shakes his head “I need you to understand that, Dick. I need you to try to understand that this was bad.”

“I was just cold, it’s not that big of a deal-”

“Dick, you had hypothermia. Several times.” Roy says “It was a big deal.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I survived, and I’m stronger now, I’m-”

“Dick,” Roy grabs him harder now, almost desperate “It’s still bad. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not like he was actively abusing me, Roy.” Dick mumbles.

“Neglect is still abuse, Dick.” Roy says softly.

The silence in the room is palpable.

If one was to bring a butter knife to the room, one would’ve been able to slice through it and spread on toast.

“Dick. Neglect is still abuse.” Roy repeats.

“I-I,” Dick sobs, loudly “I know.”

The acrobat’s shoulders shake violently with the tears, rising and falling in a way that seems almost painful. Roy was grateful he was the one that had been there to talk to Dick. None of the other Titans, with the exception of Donna Troy, would have been able to handle this, and surely none of the bats. Dick rarely cried, but when he did, it was ugly and uncontrollable. Years of repressed tears falling out, screams ripping through his throat in an attempt to push out the pain he felt, drool staining faces and clothes, snot down his chin until his body gave out and he became a limp shell of a man, sometimes for a day or two before he could properly recover.

How’s all this repression working out for you, Batsy?

Roy pulled him into a tight hug.

“I know.” Dick mumbles between sobs “I know, I know. I know.”

Roy simply held him tighter, feeling Dick clinging to his clothes, fingers trying to grasp something, anything at all to support himself as he tried desperately to disappear, to melt into Roy’s chest, to become a puddle and be promptly cleaned by his surprisingly neat team. Of course, he couldn’t find enough support for that, and he fell from his chair, bringing Roy down with him. He still clung to the man, mumbling incoherent apologies.

“Shhh... it’s fine...” Roy tries to calm him down, fingers running through his hair and a firm hand on his back “It’s fine. I’m here, just let it out Dick. Let it out.”

And Dick does just that. Not by choice, but because the dam had already burst and it would take him some time before he could build the wall back up.

Roy wishes he could turn that dam into a river so bad.

Dick cries for what feels like an eternity, and it’s still not enough. He screamed into Roy’s chest for way too long, until his throat was hoarse and there was no way someone in the building didn’t know what was going on. Dick didn’t care, he couldn’t care, his mind just didn’t register it. And Roy didn’t care either, because there was no shame in this. Because if this was the first step towards Dick’s healing then whatever discomfort that may linger in the tower was worth it.

Hey! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics so more people can see it and it makes me very happy.

Regardless, thanks for reading!

#dick grayson #roy harper #nightwing #arsenal #fanfic #fanfiction

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atinydise · 4 years ago

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Ateez saying goodbye to their s/o when they are enlisting

❦ Genre: Fluff/Light Angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 4k.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

❦ Warning: ⚠️ I probably said false or incoherent things about Korean enlistment. There’s so many info I might be wrong somewhere.

HONGJOONG

“I can’t believe you need to enlist.” You sighed. “Y/N... you are so dramatic.” He flicked your forehead. “What I am going to do without you?” You pouted. “I need my best friend with me.” Hongjoong stared at you, not breaking the eye contact. “What?” You asked. “You are still calling me your best friend while we are more than this.” He smiled. “That’s cute.” You blushed a bit. “Best friend or boyfriend, you are going to leave me.” “Say that to the government.” He held your hand. You were about add something, but the van stopped. Your heart clenched in your chest. “Okay... here we are.” Claimed Hongjoong. He turned around to look at you since you didn’t reply.

“Y/N... don’t cry.” He whispered, rubbing your hand. “How can you ask me to not cry when I won’t see you for almost 2 years...” you sniffled. “We can see each other sometimes.” He replied. “Yes 2 times in total when you will have a day off!” Hongjoong smiled at you. You had this strong look, but you were one of the most sensitive people he knew. “It’s going to be okay. We will meet sooner than you think.” You pulled him in a soft hug. “Stay safe there okay?” “Promised.” You heard the manager knock at the van’s door. “I need to go.” He whispered. “Wait,” you stopped him. You looked for something in your bag. “Y/N! I really need to-” “Take this with you.” You handed him one of your favorite necklaces. “Keep it in your stuff and wear it when you miss me okay?” You smiled. “Then I need to wear it all the time?” He giggled. He saw that his comment made you sadder than 2 seconds ago. “Aaah don’t cry again! I will keep it and call you when I can!” He tried to wipe your tears, but the manager knocked again. He cupped your chin with his fingers and pulled you in a soft kiss. The butterflies in your stomach made their apparition again, like every time when he touches you. “See you soon babe.” He smiled.

SEONGHWA

“Sweetheart-” “Yes I know, you can’t walk properly but I need to feel your warmness.” You claimed. You were stuck to your boyfriend’s arm during the whole way to the meeting point. He was enlisting today, and you wanted to enjoy his presence. He will be there for almost 2 years, so you needed a big dose of love to survive. “You are unbelievable,” he stroked your head, messing your hair. “Why are you not sad to leave me there alone for so long?” “Because you will be in my heart.” He smirked, pointing at his chest. “Stop saying this because I will cry again.” You stopped him. “Okay no no no!” He almost yelled. “Don’t cry again. Your eyes are still puffy from yesterday.” “That’s your fault.” You pouted. “Mine?” He smiled. “I planned the perfect date for you before my enlistment. I cooked all of your favorite food and even brought you to the rooftop for a romantic night.” “You resumed exactly why my eyes are so puffy. This moment was so special that I didn’t want it to end.” “1 year and a half aren’t so long you know.” He tried to comfort you. You didn’t reply. You were just focusing on the big bus coming in front of you. At this moment, you knew he would need to leave.

You tightened your grip around Seonghwa’s arm. “I never imagined it would be so hard.” You stated sadly. “It’s going to be okay.” “Why I feel like you won’t even miss me?” You finally detached yourself from your boyfriend. “Don’t say that.” He grunted. “I’m sad of course, like really sad. But I don’t want you to see me crying or stuff.” He explained, hugging you. “Why?” You asked, rubbing his back. “Because it’s going to be hard for both of us. But nothing will stop me from loving you okay?” Seonghwa heard you crying again. He couldn’t see you but your body shaking. “And I wanted to avoid this too. I don’t want you to cry.” “I will miss you so much.” Seonghwa stepped back and held you by your shoulder. “This is not a goodbye babe. I will be there soon.” He shook your shoulders a bit to change your mind or making you laugh. But the pain and anxiety were too present. “I need to go,” he kissed your forehead. “But don’t cry okay. Enjoy your time without me because when I will be back you will be annoyed by the amount of love, I will need to give you.” You giggled at him, “I will.” Seonghwa didn’t add anything. He just cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in a kiss. Just when you were enjoying the moment, he stepped back and joined his new team. He didn’t turn back to wave at you. It might be hard for him too.

YUNHO

“Your toothbrush?” “I have it.” “Your underwear?” “I have it.” Sighed Yunho. “Are you sure? Because I saw the black one on your bed this morning and-” “Y/N... I have everything.” You bit your lip. Yunho was enlisting today. You could remember again when he told you that he would need to leave for 1 year and a half. You acted like everything was fine, but you didn’t hold 5 minutes that you were already sobbing in the restroom. Yunho was praising how strong and calm you were. His girlfriend or boyfriend’s friend were always crying and stuff. Luckily, with you he wouldn’t need to get through this hard moment. Or that’s why he thought.

“You let a message on your mom’s voicemail right? You know she would be happy to learn you enlisted well.” “I did Y/N. And you were there when I did it!” He added. “I’m sorry I just want to make sure you enlist correctly.” You scratched your head. “Or you try to gain few minutes with me?” He smirked. “I’m not stupid. I know you try to make me stay a bit longer.” “And it’s a bad thing?” You bit your lip again. Your boyfriend dropped his bag on the floor and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Of course, it’s not a bad thing. I love to spend more time with you too.” You blinked few times and strongly bit your lip. “Are you going to-” he stared at you. “No!” Your voice cracked a bit. You were trying to suppress the sob in your throat and the tears to slide on your face. “Y/N, look at me.” He whispered calmly. You shook your head. “You said that you don’t like cries, sobs and stuff like that, so I won’t cry.” “Babe...” Yunho felt a bit bad to afflict this to you. “Don’t do this. You can cry if you want to.” He pulled your hair behind your ear. No matter how hard you were biting your lip, you busted in tears. “Y/N... it’s going to be okay. Don’t cry.” You nodded, making him understand that you heard him, but the sobs were now uncontrollable. “I will miss you too.” He patted your back, trying to comfort you. You enjoyed his hug for few long minutes before the manager calls him. You instantly stepped back and wiped your tears yourself. “You need to go.” He smiled sadly at you and kissed your hand. “Wait for me okay?” “Of course.” You replied. Yunho waved at you the whole time he was joining the team. He almost fell 2 times, but he wasn’t stopping. You couldn’t express how much you loved this man.

YEOSANG

“Y/N, stop crying.” “How do you want me to stop?” You sobbed, not understanding his request. “How can you still be crying? You cried the whole day!” He teased you. “Because I love you idiot and I don’t want you to leave!” You punched his arm. With Yeosang, you were constantly teasing each other. It was your way to say ‘I love you’. You ignored it but today, Yeosang was teasing you more than ever becahse he wanted you to stop being sad. You cried yesterday and the whole day too. Your eyes were so puffy and red that people could think you caught an eye disease.

“If you love me then stop crying.” He tried a new technic. The glare you gave him was a bit scary so he concluded that his new tactic didn’t work at all. “You really want me to keep this sad and devastated face as a memory for the 2 future years?” He asked. “You are a monster.” You growled. “I don’t even know why I’m crying for you!” Yeosang smirked. “Just smile at me so I could think about your warm and beautiful face.” You turned around, showing him your back. “No, you don’t deserve it.” Not giving up, he put his chest against your back and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I need it.” He buried his face in the crock for your neck. “If I don’t have it I’m going crazy.” “Don’t think you will get me just because of a hug.” You crossed your arms on your chest. “Please please please?” He insisted, squeezinf you a bit. You laughed a bit at his ministrations. “I will smile at you when you will be blond again.” You patted his bald head. “But I don’t have hair anymore and for a long time.” “I know.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He bit your shoulder gently and turned you in front of him. “Smile at me so I can go and have enough energy for 1 year and a half.” You rolled your eyes playfully but finally made the best smile you ever did for him. “Aaah! I’m living again.” He claimed. You punched him again and hugged him one more time. “Don’t forget me Kang Yeosang.” You whispered, pecking his lip. “How I could forget your puffy eyes and the glanders coming off your nose?” He replied. “Argh I hate you.” Knowing that you would try to escape he pressed you against him and enjoyed the last hug he would have until a long time. “I love you.” “Me too.” You replied. When you let him go, you felt your heart clenching in your chest. You were really dependent of this man.

SAN

San needed to enlist today for 1 year and a half. You were in a fresh and new relationship. You were dating for 6 months, you still learned about each other a lot every day. You were a bit sad because of this sudden departure, but you ignored that San was more nervous than you. You were the one who’s going to meet people every day, especially men. He was scared. Maybe one day you will announce him that you want to break up because you find someone else. He never talked about it with you. He didn’t want you to think he’s stupid. But you noticed his behavior changed a lot since he received the information about his departure.

When both of you were waiting for the bus to come, you asked: “San. Is there something you want to say before leaving?” He raised a brow, trying to know if you understand the situation. “No, I think we talked enough the last days.” “Are you sure? Because I find you a bit... distant.” San gulped. The last thing he wanted was you to feel this way. “I’m just a bit sad. I’m going to miss you.” He smiled sadly. “We don’t know each other for so long but I truly believe this is not the only reason.” You claimed. San shook his head, making you understand that you were wrong. “You know you can tell me everything huh?” You added, just in case it could change his mind. Your boyfriend was hesitating so bad to tell you the truth. “The bus is coming,” you said sadly. “Screw the opinion,” he whispered. “Huh?” “Y/N promise you won’t forget me okay? Don’t leave me for someone else even if he or she’s funnier than me okay?” He claimed. You smiled at him. Finally, you knew what was going on his head. “I won’t do that San. I love you too much for this.” You confessed. Both of you stayed quiet, completely surprised after your declaration. “It’s the f-first time you say that you love me.” He stuttered, furiously blushing. You acted normally but inside you were freaking out; it wasn’t your type to confess like that. “Well okay! Have fun there and stay healthy okay!” You pecked his cheek. “Don’t forget to text or call me when you can and rest when you can!” You pushed him toward the bus. “Y/N,” he giggled. “I love you too!” “I can’t heart anythiiiing! Bye!” You yelled when he stepped inside. Lucky for you, the bus left the parking really quickly. You just wanted to hide in a hole. But at least, your relationship will completely change when he will be back.

MINGI

“Do you think she’s coming?” Asked Jongho. “I don’t think so...” sighed Mingi. “We didn’t talk since last week.” “I think she’s coming. She wouldn’t miss your enlistment.” He tried to reassure his friend. The last week you argued with your boyfriend Mingi. It started with a little argument about your jealousy but ended with a whole questioning about your relationship. You were so mad and sad about this that you went back to your apartment and ghosted him the next days. He tried to call you a thousand of times, but in vain, as expected. “Should I call her again? Or at least letting a message on her-” “You did it already.” Sighed Jongho. “You told her the entire information you had about your departure.” “I don’t know what to do Jongho.” He growled, completely frustrated. “Mingi.” Both of them turned around. “Y/N!” Shouted your boyfriend. “I’ll give you a bit of privacy.” Said Jongho, almost running away.

“Y/N I’m so happy to see you here! I really thought you wouldn’t come.” “I’m not a monster. I won’t to let my boyfriend enlist without saying goodbye.” You replied. “You can’t imagine how happy I am to hear you saying ‘boyfriend’,” He smiled. “Mingi I don’t want you to leave in bad terms.” You declared. “I agree. I’m sorry for these terrible things that I said. I regret it.” He held your hands. “But since we have a short time left, can we just enjoy the moment we have?” You nodded. That’s everything you wanted. “I’m sorry too.” You couldn’t be any happier. Even if you were boiling inside the last week, you really missed him. Mingi pulled you in a soft hug for few long minutes. The whole time he was whispering how much he loves you and that he would do his best to contact you every time he can. “I don’t want you to leave. I feel stupid for ignoring you a week before your departure.” “It’s okay. We will have all the time we want when I will be back.” He kissed the top of your head. “Mingi Hyung, sorry to interrupt but you need to go.” Warned Jongho, embarrassed to break this romantic moment. You pecked his plump lip softly and smiled at him. “See you soon babe.” He nodded and hugged you one last time. “Take care of her Jongho,” he ordered to the maknae. “I can protect myself,” you pouted. “Sure Hyung.” Replied Jongho. More you were staring at your boyfriend leaving you there, more you already missed his presence. Jongho noticed how sad you were. He patted your back, “Don’t worry, he loves you too much to ruin this relationship.”

WOOYOUNG

“I can’t believe it’s Wooyoung’s turn to enlist!” Claimed Seonghwa. “I felt like our enlistment was yersterday.” Added Hongjoong. “Bruh... you are not going to cry? Even my parents didn’t.” Replied Wooyoung, rolling his eyes. “We are just emotional but not crying yet.” Wooyoung was enlisting today. He was a bit anxious because his friends told him that it’s kind of hard and stressful. But you found the good words to reassure him. Yesterday, you spent the whole day helping him to pack and prepare all the stuff he would need. “If you see San don’t start act crazily! You need to respect other men there.” Ordered Seonghwa. “Yes mommy.” He replied sarcastically. You were looking at the two friends helping their friend, but you actually wanted some time with him. You wouldn’t see him for a long time, and you couldn’t get his attention. “And if you feel sick, don’t hesitate to say the-” “Sorry Hongjoong but can I have some time with Wooyoung?” You cut them straight. “Oh, sorry Y/N! Of course!” He replied embarrassed. They stepped back enough to give you some privacy.

“Sorry princess, you know how annoying they can be sometimes.” “I know.” You replied, smiling a bit. Wooyoung noticed the crack in your voice. “Hey... don’t cry.” You wiped the tears on your cheek, “yes sorry.” “It’s not so long okay?” “1 year and a half.” “It’s short.” He kissed your cheek. “In a matter of time I will annoy you again.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Do you really need to go?” “I don’t want to, believe me. But I need to.” He squeezed you in his arms. “I miss you already.” “I didn’t know you were into these lovely dovely things Y/N,” he laughed. He thought you were going to pinch him as usual, but tears stormed on your face. This sight really made his heart aches. “Don’t be sad,” he tried to comfort you. “We will see each other sometimes. I will call you when I can.” He added, but seems like nothing could help right now. “Y/N... princess stop crying I don’t want to leave you like this.” No matter how hard you tried to collect your thoughts again, you failed. “Wooyoung you need to go...” said Hongjoong joining you back. “I can’t leave her like this.” “It’s okay,” you sniffled, stepping back. “We will take care of her, okay?” Offered Seonghwa patting his member’s back. Wooyoung hesitated a bit but he didn’t have any choice. “Okay.” He hugged his members and kissed you one last time. He was blowing a bunch of kisses to you. It made your heart warm a bit. Fortunately, Seonghwa and Hongjoong would be there for you.

JONGHO

Jongho was enlisting. You knew that it would be a hard time since you were always together but the law is the law. To enjoy your time together, you spent the whole week on Jeju Island in a good hotel. It was paradisiac and you loved to share private moments with him. But today, the reality hit you when you saw him packing his army uniform. Now you were waiting for other men to step in the bus. Jongho managed to be the last one to get inside.

“Well I guess it’s a goodbye.” You shrugged. “Just for a short time.” Added Jongho, fixing his hat. “If you don’t forget me.” “Don’t be stupid!” He rolled his eyes. “How I can do that, silly...” “Usually I would reply something but right now I don’t find any words.” “Something like... ‘stay healthy’ or ‘call me when you can’.” “I know you will forget and fall asleep just when you hop on your bed. Like always.” “I won’t. There will be the only few interactions I can get with you. I won’t miss this.” His words, “only few interactions I can get” were stuck in your head. “Y/N, are you listening to me?” Asked Jongho, waving in front of your face. “Actually, I’m trying hard to not to cry.” You confessed, ventilating your eyes so you could reduce the tears. “Ah no! You know that if you cry I will!” Gasped Jongho. “I know that’s why I’m trying to think about something else!” Even if you were thing hard to erase the tears, few sobs escaped. “Y/N!” Pouted Jongho. “Sorry this is hard I can’t do this,” you hid your face behind your hands. “Babe,” sobbed Jongho. “Don’t cry!” You punched his chest gently. “I told you I would cry too!” If you weren’t really sad inside, you would laugh at the scene. 2 grown people crying like babies in front of each other. That was comical. “Don’t fall asleep okay? And call me.” You sobbed. “Promise.” He kissed you softly, wrapping his strong arm around your waist. When both of you were enjoying the moment, he broke the kiss. “Stop crying okay?” He pecked your forehead. You nodded and held his hand one last time. “Take care of you.” “I will.” He replied. You felt your heart ache when your hand detached from his. When you couldn’t see the bus anymore, the reality slapped you. He was gone and you would need to live without him for a long time.

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unquestionably-queer · 4 years ago

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going off my previous post here but i wrote a mini fanfic/headcanon about zukos nightmares? this is really long but if yall like it im willing to actually write it from zuko’s pov and add dialogue. maybe even put it on ao3 maybe? anywho, id love to hear feedback! enjoy!!

it wasnt uncommon for zuko to wake up in such distress that he started frantically firebending. one time iroh saw his nephew quite literally wake up breathing fire. concerning, but very impressive. since joining the gang, he had worked on not doing that (as much as was in his control), as he had accidentaly burnt down a tent or three. but the nightmares themselves didnt subside.

not uncommon, zuko woke up gasping for breath. his head and heart were pounding, sweat dripping down his chest. he headed outside, planning to go to a nearby stream in hopes of finding some relief and peace, only to find sokka was sitting outside and very much awake. they both stared kind of awkwardly at each other before sokka ushered the older boy over. neither asked why the other was awake. they just made mindless chitchat before falling into a surprisingly comfortable silence. sokka got up to leave, but not before offering his company next time zuko needed it. when asked if the offer was genuine, he laughed. to be honest, he had said, he was just being polite, and didnt expect zuko to actually believe him. what a dick move, they both thought.

he woke up in a similar state a few nights later. he tossed and turned, begging for sleep to claim him again before ultimately grunting and accepting his fate. he wandered outside, once again finding sokka awake. zuko greeted him and explained he was going swimming. it was his silent way of offering his company, which sokka took. what started as idle conversation eventually progressed, and they found themselves floating in the stream talking about their youths. at some point they even talked about how they had both lost their moms due to the war (despite katara thinking she was the only one who had ever experienced any sort of emotional pain.) they hadnt even realized the hours that had gone by until the chirping of bugs was replaced by the chirping of birds and the sun put the stars to sleep.

this pattern continued. while sokka never asked what zukos nightmares were about, zuko learned that despite being a sleep enthusiast, sokka lost many hours of precious shut eye to anxious planning. sometimes they went on a walk, sometimes they were sparring, and sometimes they simply watched the stars. it was nice company, just to the two of them. no offense to aang, but sokka and zuko were closer in age and much more similar than they had originally realized. sokka offered his late night company. before zuko could question him, sokka placed a hand on the firebenders shoulder. anything for a friend.

on one occasion, zuko woke up and stumbled outside without thinking about it, only to be greeted with the faint glow of where the fire was, no man in sight. still groggy and disoriented, he rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times before shuffling back to bed, blaming the ache in his chest on the painful memory of his nightmares and not on the absence of a certain someones company. it took a long time before he could fall back asleep.

after becoming firelord, sokka decided to stay in the fire nation. mostly for political planning and engagement until zuko got himself on his own two feet. who else to help than the guy who had spent the past few months travelling the world trying to save it. the avatar, katara had said cooly. which wasnt wrong but sokka was offended that she hadnt just agreed. besides, sokka would assure zuko, its not like he could leave zuko alone. who would be his comedic relief?

since returning to the palace, zuko had gone back to handling his dreams alone, the way he used to. while his bedding was definitely made to withstand the panicked firebending, he figured there were better coping mechanisms. he quietly walked through the halls. the young firelord wasnt paying attention, rather just letting his body go on autopilot and he tried to clear his mind. after a solid 15 minutes of rights and lefts, he found himself a hallway away from sokka’s quarters. after some hesitation, he turned around and went back to his bedroom.

the next time, after much delay and pacing, he knocked on the door. its not like be hadnt’t done this before. it would be just like before. that reasoning didnt stop zuko from immediately turning around and walking away. fortunately. sokka opened the door before he could get too far. zuko awkwardly began to explain his situation, but sokka just interrupted him and told him to wait before shutting the door. zuko stood there mouth still half open from when he was talking before sokka emerged two minutes later, clothed and ready to go. they wandered to the kitchen and talked for what seemed like minutes but must have been hours, as they were politely shooed out by the staff beginning to prepare breakfast. zuko walked sokka back to his quarters before they parted ways. sokka reminded his friend that though things may be different, the option still stood.

many night rendezvous later, zuko showed up particularly shaken. much to sokka’s surprise, it almost looked like behind the curtain of now long dark hair, the mans face was wet. when sokka asked if he was crying while brushing dark hair behind a pale ear, it was confirmed that he was in fact crying. it started as silent tears, and slowly but surely turned into a violent sob. you know, the kind of gross one with hiccups and snot and general incoherence. at this point, they had known each other for years, and they had definitely surpassed the point of friendship (though they were both too dense to realize it themselves) meaning they had seen each other vulnerable. but never had sokka seen zuko cry like this, and definitely not because of a nightmare. now the same height, the watertribesman wrapped his arm around his friends shoulder and guided him to the bed. zuko wasnt big on giving physical affection, but he never pushed sokka away. not when the friendly slap on the shoulder became a tender shoulder massage. nor did when sokka went from tussling the mans dark hair to running his fingers through it to just simply playing with it. sokka sat and cradled zukos head into his own neck. zuko cries lessened into sniffles and then a gentle snore. sokka gently moved zuko, placing his friends head on the pillow and tucking him in.

zuko woke up the following morning, confused as to where he was. as he gained his bearings, he turned to find the source of what sounded like snorimg. he stared at the tanned man for a couple beats, processing what was in front of him. the firelord tensed when the snoring stopped, fearing some sort of negative reaction. zuko breathed out in relief when sokka simply rolled away from him and the snoring began again. zuko quietly slipped out the bed and out the room, but not before smiling fondly to himself in the doorway.

a couple days later, sokka and zuko found themselves caught up in late night shenanigans, a concept that wasnt foreign to them. they were sitting on the foot of sokkas bed when zuko stood up to dismiss himself for the night. sokka stopped him, and when zuko raised his eyebrows in question, sokka spluttered out a not so smooth joke that was just a weak attempt at asking for zuko to spend the night. for protection of course. zuko, who at this point was experiencing severe symptoms of polar bear-puppy love, said yes of course, and ended up spending the night.

when he woke up the next morning, he felt truly rested for the first time in years.

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #sokka x zuko #sokka/zuko #zuko #zuko x sokka #zuko/sokka #zukka fanfic #zukka headcanons #zukka headcanon #zukosokka #sokkazuko #zukka #atla zukka

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98prilla · 5 years ago

Text

Comfort

I’m still tagging you in this @coquettishcass because it’s still a continuation of my ideas based on your art, and I know you’re here for the feels :)

Another little story about some sides having issues and helping each other out, this one starring Deceit and Patton, cameo courtesy of Remus.

He’s tired. He's emptily, exhaustedly tired. He's burrowed under all his blankets, his heating pad, and he still isn’t warm. He’s never warm. He is tired, so tired, but he can't sleep, won't sleep.

He shivers, curling tighter under the covers, not even his head poking out from under them, and wonders about the chances of accidently smothering himself.

Wouldn’t that be ironic? After everyone has made clear how much he isn’t wanted, if he were to accidentally off himself, and solve their problem for them.

He can hear his stomach rumbling, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t have the energy to find food. That would require getting up, which is off the table. Moving at all, is barely achievable. Just continuing to breathe takes all his will, the goal of moving is laughable.

He can feel the loathing. It crawls up his spine and settles in his stomach. It weighs him down and burns like stinging nettles over each inch of his skin. His cheeks are burning and he feels hot, angry tears dripping down his face.

If he was better, maybe they would listen to him, like him, care about him. But he’s not going to stop doing his job just because they don’t like it, and maybe he would be willing to open up a little, if they’d ever given him a single iota of a reason to trust them.

And he will never earn their trust because they only see him as a liar, as a trickster, as a villain.

He lets out a soft sob, hugging the pillow he’d slept with closer to his chest, burying his face in it.

God, it still smelled like Virgil, his favorite coffee, ink, paper. The pillowcase had been in the laundry when he left, it hadn’t moved with his room.

Just the thought makes him choke out another quiet sob and hold the pillow tighter. He knows that’s his fault, too, and the guilt just adds to his loathing because he misses Virgil. He misses him like one of his arms has been torn off, like his scales when they first came in, like the heat of the sun in his skin.

A quiet knock. He knows who it will be. There’s only one person who cares enough to come looking, who cares at all. He doesn’t respond. The door creaks open anyways.

“DeeDee?” he manages to make his sniffles quieter, barely shaking under the blankets now, not that Remus has ever judged him for these episodes. It’s their silent pact, the others judge enough for both of them. They just accept each other unconditionally. Once Virgil did, too. But he’s gone and hates them now and it’s his fault.

“DeeDee, can you at least eat something for me? Please?” the others wouldn’t believe that Remus is capable of being quiet or gentle or soft, but he can be, he is now, he always is when it comes to him, and for some reason it just breaks him more.

“No.” he manages to get out through his shaky voice and hoarse throat. Even that is like climbing a mountain in its difficulty.

“Dee, please. Just try, just a little?” Remus is almost pleading, but he just shakes his head, summoning the effort for words.

“Can’t. Will just come back up.” His voice trembles. He hates that Remus is here, hates being seen like this, hates that he is this. This pathetic lump who doesn’t even have the care to move, who won’t eat, who is denying all his survival instincts when he is literally the embodiment of someone’s survival instincts.

“Dee, it’s been days. You’re going to kill yourself at this rate.” A hint of desperation tinges Remus's voice, and he laughs. Broken, shattered laughter.

“I should. It would make things so much easier, wouldn’t it? If I just…” he chokes on the bitterness of his own words, hate, hate, hate, eating at him, tearing him apart inside, because he hurts and he deserves it.

He hears the sound of sinking out. Remus is gone. Left him, because he pushed him away. Just like Virgil. God, he never learns, does he? He truly is worthless, truly, deserves to be alone.

He hears the door again. It could be minutes, could be hours, later. No one speaks, but he hears quiet, hesitant, footsteps. Or he thinks he does, he’s gone long enough without sleep to start hallucinating.

“Deceit?” ah, hallucinating it is, because that is Patton’s voice, and he would never, has never, come to his room. Doesn’t even know where it is. “Deceit, are you… feeling ok?” he laughs again, that broken, edged with glass laugh that cuts his throat raw, sends tears streaming down his face, curling tighter into his pillow.

“That’s a laugh and a half.” His voice is rough, scraped and bruised and battered. He knows how this goes. He knows the script.

Knows that Patton will tell him he’s wrong, Thomas doesn’t need to lie, doesn’t need Deceit, and he will be unable to defend himself because not even he can lie that well. He is anything but needed. He would have let go, let himself fade ages ago, but he promised Remus he wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave Remus alone like that, not after Virgil left, and it was his fault, and besides... he could wait.

Sooner rather than later, he knows the others will come to accept Remus. He’s so much like Roman, he’s half of creativity, after all, and Virgil doesn’t hate Remus, not like Virgil hates him. Thomas is already open to discussing the more helpful of the dark topics only Remus has domain over, it won’t be long now.

He’s happy for Remus, he truly is. Remus deserves that light, that acceptance, that warmth. Remus deserves to be heard and listened to and surrounded by their love. Remus is a star, a brilliant, burning star, and soon the others will know it too.

Then he will be left all alone, in the dark and the cold and the quiet. That’s what he longs for, what he aches for, the emptiness that he will let fill him, let weigh down his limbs, let soak into him until he can’t move, doesn’t need to breathe, until he just... vanishes. But not until Remus is gone, and settled. Not until Remus forgets about him down here, just like everyone else, and he can go quietly and peacefully without upsetting anyone. Because even though they all hate him, he is still afraid of upsetting them.

“Oh, kiddo...” Patton. He’s forgotten about his hallucination of Patton. He wonders idly if he’s speaking out loud or thinking in his head, he can’t quite tell the difference anymore, and he wouldn’t really care either way, except that means his grasp is slipping and he cannot, will not, fall asleep.

“Why not, Deceit?” He chokes back the fear that floods him, that even thinking of why not brings. Why not? Oh, what hasn’t he seen, in those dreams, in the dreams that already come when he’s at his lowest, when he can’t keep himself together, that drive him deeper and deeper into his own apathy, and loathing and disconnect?

He sees Virgil, trying to leave, wanting to leave, and instead he grabs, forces him back, locks him up, chains him, tortures him, reprograms him. The whole time he is screaming, screaming inside, screaming at himself to stop, what are you doing, just let him go, Virgil, no, please!

He sees Remus, torn apart by some fanged, clawed, venom laced monster, and he can’t get to him in time, he can’t stop the bleeding, he doesn’t know the antivenom, if there is antivenom, and Remus is seizing in his arms, shaking violently, babbling incoherently, but his eyes are clear as they meet his, and he wants to scream or cry or make it all ok, but it’s not, because Remus is bleeding out in his arms, he is dying and he cannot fix it and Remus knows it too, forgiving him and saying a thousand loving goodbyes with his eyes-

He sees Logan, losing his mind, having enough of their small jabs and their inattention, a victim to all the feelings Logan has and is pretending don’t exist, shifting and changing and warping like a distorted mirror until nothing Logan was left, and Insanity stood in his place, wild and manic and broken, and he couldn’t put this right, couldn’t help but shift Insanity’s room to the dark side, knowing he’d be blamed, knowing they would come for him and demand answers and not believe him and he would take it all, because Logan was gone, and he had to protect them, because Insanity would tear them apart in the exact same way Logan had always built them up.

He saw Roman, usually so proud and loud and strong and vibrant, now colored in shades of gray, every trace of emotion leaking out of him, all of his passion and strength and hope fading out as the bruised ego has had enough, can’t take it anymore, as he fades into Apathy, and the others don’t understand, don’t even notice the difference, just continue to demand ideas and inspiration and he is powerless to help Roman, because they won’t let him anywhere near him, they don’t understand!

He sees Patton, his worst enemy, his harshest critic, his greatest rival, exploding like a supernova. All the emotions are too much, too overwhelming, he’s lied to himself about the bad ones for too long, and the mindscape is torn apart by their strength and he tries to reach Patton through the supernovas exploding in the dark, he manages to take his hand, he manages to swallow Patton’s pain, he manages to hold it all inside him as it explodes, tears him apart, tears him to shreds, and it hurts, it hurts exquisitely, and he knows it will kill him, but it won’t destroy the mindscape, inside of him. It won’t destroy Patton, and that’s the important thing, because no one needs him, no one wants him, anyway, and Patton is more important, Patton is worth something, despite everything between them, he would throw himself in front of any danger to protect Patton, because that is his job, and Patton is needed, in a way he is not, will never be needed. Patton is wanted in the same way that he is not, and now he is gone.

He is shaking again. Shaking so hard his teeth are nearly chattering, because now that the images are there he can’t make them leave, he sees them in front of his eyes, whether they’re open or closed, and he wishes this figment of Patton would just leave, just leave him to his misery because it is only going to get worse from here, he is only going to fall apart more, and even an imaginary Patton witnessing this is too much to bear.

But part of him wants Patton to stay, because if Patton leaves, then it will be one of the others, and though Patton is cruel, at least he is unintentional in his coldness. He knows Roman’s fiery vitriol will burn him, knows Logan’s cold analysis will break him, knows Virgil’s biting words will lash his skin like a thousand whips from a cat o nine tails, knows that Patton is the first of a long list of cruelties his own mind will subject him to, because his own mind recognizes that he deserves the punishment, deserves the pain, deserves to be hated and abandoned and destroyed and he desperately, desperately wants to let it all go, knows exactly how easy it would be to let go, how much time it would take, exactly where in the subconscious he will hide so no one will find, not that they’d come looking, but still, ever present, is Remus. Not yet, he has to hold on, he has to, because he won’t, won’t leave Remus, at least until Remus leaves him for better and brighter things, takes his rightful place up there, with the others.

He feels something. Fingers, gently teasing through his hair, the only part of him peeking out from the covers. He flinches at first, and they pause, but after a moment continue, and he realizes he hears humming as well, though it is shaky, shaky as his own voice was the last time he spoke. Or remembered speaking, he can’t tell the difference anymore between thoughts and words.

Then the thought hits him and he jerks upright, clutching the blanket to his chest, trembling as he looks at Patton, feeling shame and bile rise in his throat, because hallucinations can’t touch, have never physically touched him before, so this isn’t a figment, this is actually Patton, he just said all that to the actual Patton.

And now... well, now he knows. Now Patton knows every one of his weaknesses, every one of his fears, every one of his regrets and mistakes and they will be used against him and laughed at later as Patton tells the others what a hopeless, stupid fool Deceit is, as if he had any more to lose, when it came to them, as if they could resent him and antagonize him more if they tried.

He closes his eyes and pulls his knees to his chest, still hugging his pillow around his middle, burying his face back in it, where he can pretend this isn’t happening, pretend that Patton hasn’t somehow ended up in his room, pretend that he’s nothing and no one and doesn’t exist because if he did the shame would be eating him alive right now as he cries into a pillow that still smells of his lost best friend.

Pathetic, and weak, and useless, and stupid, and a waste, a waste of time, of space, of words, of energy.

“Oh... oh honey, no.” The gentleness in Patton’s voice makes him flinch, so different than what he is accustomed to, it throws him off guard. At least with the vitriol he knew what to expect, could brace himself, he doesn’t know what this kindness means or is leading towards.

He feels arms around him. Patton’s arms. Hugging him. And God it is heaven. It is warm, so comfortingly warm, the world seems muted, his mind too stunned to think, too cozy and warm and trying to process touch, being touched, he is being touched, and it is nice and he isn’t cold.

Then he practically falls into Patton’s lap, still curled tight, still holding the pillow tight, face now pressing against Patton’s cardigan, his scent of warm, clean laundry and chocolate chip cookies, he is soft and warm, and Patton’s arms are around him, holding him, rocking him, murmuring soft, kind, loving, words, and he’s shocked at every single one of them, because Patton isn’t lying, Patton believes what he’s saying.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. Patton’s shirt is nearly soaked with his tears. Patton is rubbing circles on his back, and it feels so damn good, he can’t find it in him to pull away, as much as his reputation demands it. He figures his reputation is screwed after this anyway.

“How... how did you get in here?” He manages to croak out. He feels Patton let out a soft laugh.

“We were in the living room and Remus just kinda popped up out of nowhere and grabbed me. He didn’t say much, but he was worried and more serious than I’ve ever seen him, so I just kinda went with it. I... I'm sorry, Deceit. I’m sorry, that we made you feel this way. I’m sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t tell us you were feeling this way. I’m sorry we haven’t... I haven’t, been treating you right. I will do better. I will make sure everyone does better.” He’s crying again, because Patton isn’t lying, Patton means it, and once Patton sets his heart on something it is near impossible to stop him. He feels Patton’s arms tighten, holding him closer, and he somehow melts even more into the touch, when had he ever been held like this? He thinks he might die, if Patton lets go of him.

“Deceit... how long?” He shrugs.

“This episode? Nearly a week. Usually... usually it doesn’t hit this hard. Last month it was only three. I... every month. At least one... one episode a month. Since... God, since forever.” He mumbles, sniffling, feeling Patton’s sharp inhale.

“Baby, baby, baby, no. Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want you to fade, I don’t want you to disappear. Please... please if you ever think you’re about to do that, please talk to someone first. It doesn’t have to be me, if you’re not comfortable with that, just someone. Because we would fall apart without you, sweetie, we really, really would.” He’s sobbing again, he can’t seem to stop sobbing, every time he thinks he’s cried himself out, Patton says something else kind or sweet and means it, and he doesn’t know how to handle that, doesn’t know what to do with the care being directed his way, because no one besides Remus cares, and he doesn’t show care like this, like Patton does.

He feels Patton start to pull away. The air is cold, jarringly cold, and he finds himself shivering, his skin burning where Patton had been touching it. He can feel Patton looking at him, frowning at him, and he wonders what he did wrong, this time.

“Nothing, honey. I’m just trying to decide what we should do first. I... Deceit, when was the last time you were hugged?” His face burns, even though he knows the question isn’t intended to shame him.

“Not... not since Virgil... left. Before then only to help him, when he was having an attack... afterwards, to help soothe him. Barely ever.” Patton makes an injured noise in the back of his throat.

“ok. Ok. That’s... I think... I think you’re touch starved, Deceit. And almost actually starving by now. And sleep deprived. So, which of those problems do you wanna tackle first?” He doesn’t know. He can’t think straight. He doesn’t want to sleep, he hates the idea of it right now, but he won’t be any kind of coherent for much longer, and he knows it. He voices as much.

“That’s ok. We can tackle two of them at once then, if you don’t mind.” He looks at Patton with confusion.

“Mind?”

“Cuddling. The best way to help with touch starvation is to experience touch, and the best way to do that is to cuddle! It might... it might help with the nightmares, too. Help you feel safer. And if you wake up from one, I’ll be right here.” The thought of sleep still terrifies him, but he feels a little better about it, if Patton is going to stay.

“...ok. will... will you be ok? In here?” Patton thinks for a moment, tilting his head and pursing his lips.

“Not with as long as you’ll be sleeping. Can we get you settled on the couch?” His face pales at that thought, because what if the others come in, he can’t handle Roman waving his sword, or Virgil’s sneer, or Logan’s coldness. “down here, Dee. As long as I’m not in someone’s room, I’ll be fine. I know you don’t wanna move. Can I sink us there?” He lets out a breath of relief, nodding. He would, but he doesn’t have the energy.

They land right on top of the couch, perfect aim. Immediately Patton busies himself, pulling out the futon and gathering blankets, tucking them in, humming as he quickly gets everything settled. He’s already under them, Patton having worked around him, and he feels himself slipping. He’s shaking again, as he lays down, then he feels Patton settle in behind him, curling around him like a cat around her kitten, swallowing him in warmth and heat and soft, and he rolls over to once again bury his face against Patton’s cardigan as he curls tight against him.

Patton is stroking his hair, rubbing his back, humming softly. He feels Patton rest his head atop his own, feels him gently kiss his unruly, curly hair, usually hidden beneath his hat, and the sensation sends tingles of warmth radiating through him. It takes his breath away, it fills something inside of him that he didn’t know was empty, it radiates peace and comfort and nearly overwhelming love that burns him in a good way.

He’s barely awake when he hears Remus. He can’t bother himself to open his eyes, but he hears Patton reassuring his little slimeball that he’s going to be ok, that Patton is going to make sure it never gets this bad again, and if it does, Remus has full permission to drag him away no matter what he is doing to help. Tentatively, Remus asks something, and Patton’s voice is smiling as he affirms.

Then he feels warmth on his other side, feels more arms wrapping around him, hears Remus whispering apologies and mild death threats, and his own version of words of comfort and kindness, which he has long ago learned to understand.

He is crying again as he finally, finally lets himself fall asleep. But these tears are happy. Because he feels the warmth emanating through him, he is sandwiched between two people who somehow, somehow, love him. He isn’t afraid, this time, as he feels oblivion weighing him down, and he knows, knows, that nightmares won’t dare to touch him this time, not with so much love surrounding him. Not with the promise of more warmth to come. Not when he actually, for the first time in forever, knows he has something to live for.

#sanders sides #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #depression #touch starvation #Angst with a happy ending #emotional hurt/comfort #everyone needs a hug #and everyone gets a hug #remus sanders #patton sanders

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overclockedroulette · 4 years ago

Text

sometimes i love avarice too much and i feel the need to remind myself that he is in no way, shape, or form a good person

sometimes this urges me to write a fic

this is one of those times

(am i a whump writer now?)

TW for gore, suicidal thoughts, coerced suicide, major distress, dehumanisation, drug mention (if i need to add anything else, let me know)

~~~

Garlen took in every sound he could hear. The frantic crunching of leaves underfoot; his heart beating loudly, incessantly, in his ears; his own breath, quick and shallow, stinging his throat with every sharp intake. He didn’t know how long he had been running. He didn’t particularly want to. All he knew - all he had to know - was that he couldn’t stop. Not until he was safe, and he hadn’t the faintest idea when that would be.

He had a fleeting hope that they weren’t even looking for him - maybe he wasn’t important at all, maybe they had forgotten, maybe he could rest - but he wasn’t about to take the risk.

(He squeezed his eyes shut. Empty walls, bloodstained shackles, agony upon agony came rushing back. Too much. It’s too much.)

Just keep running. Keep going. They have to give up eventually. They have to. They have to. They-

His breath caught in his throat, and he whirled around to face the figure that grabbed him by the back of the collar. When had they gotten so close? Surely he would have noticed, right? He would have noticed someone following him, or stalking him, or whatever this man’s deal was, but no. He hadn’t. And now his eyes were welling up, and he couldn’t see straight, and he collapsed backwards into the dirt and tried his hardest to scramble backwards, only ending up backing himself against a tree.

“Hello again, sweetheart~” The man purred, and all at once his mind was flooded with memories: the futile, desperate sound of rattling chains against the walls, the feeling of a needle in his arm, something he didn’t understand injected into his veins, and the pain that came after, sharp and all-consuming, as if his whole being were falling apart. And now that he’d heard the voice, everything clicked into place. He couldn’t stay away for long, could he?

Over the top of Garlen’s incoherent whimpering, the man who had ruined his life continued, nonchalant and playful. “Really, I have to commend you on getting this far. Those armed guards must have been an issue, hm?”

“I didn’t- I had to! They- I- they would have- I mean, they were-”

“In your way?” He tilted his head, smiling curiously. “Of course they were - don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad. They didn’t matter to me in the slightest.”

“Then why-” He was choking up. Everything hurt. “I mean, I don’t matter, I can’t matter that much, so why-”

He sighed. “Because I’m not done with you,” he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, though it made Garlen’s blood run cold. “You haven’t fulfilled your potential. So you’re coming back, until I decide I’m done with you.”

“I’d- I’d rather die!”

It was a brash statement, sure - one that, coming from almost anywhere else, would immediately be dismissed as hyperbole. But Avarice just raised an eyebrow, laughed, and drew a dagger from his belt, waving dismissively as the figure crumpled up on the floor before him started begging.

“Oh, you misunderstand, darling. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, think of this as a gift.” Sure enough, he tossed the dagger in the direction of his prey, watching curiously as he snatched it up and held it in front of his face. “You can use it to defend yourself, since I respect your ability, and all. You won’t, though.”

“Watch- fucking watch me!”

He held the dagger at arm’s length with both trembling hands, ready to strike, but Avarice just tutted. “Sweetheart, that isn’t how you hold a dagger. Here.”

He approached fairly easily, in complete disregard of the violent threats streaming from Garlen’s mouth, prying the weapon from one hand and folding the other around its hilt. “It’s much more difficult to maneuver with two hands,” he explained, as if talking to a child. “If you actually want to fight back, then it’ll be a lot easier if you use the weapon right.”

Garlen narrowed his eyes, something that’s a lot easier to do when you aren’t also blinking back tears. “...why-” he started hesitantly, immediately being interrupted by Avarice, standing up, taking a few steps away from him, and smiling.

“Because I’m going to give you an ultimatum, love.” His eyes shone with some sort of excitement, and just the look of it screamed danger. “One: you use the dagger I gave you to attempt to hurt me, you inevitably fail, and I take you back home where you belong. Two…”

Garlen clutched the weapon tighter as the scientist knelt down and dragged his nail along the side of his neck, marking a small red line. “You take that dagger, and slit your throat for me. I even marked out the artery for you. How’s that sound?”

Garlen’s breath caught in his throat. His whole body seized up as Avarice pat his head and stepped back, watching intently for his answer, as if he were watching some sort of play. Fuck, this was a game to him. The sleepless nights, the ache in his legs, the defilement of his body with chemicals and trials he never knew the purpose of, the ardent despair that plagued every second of his life: it was all a show to him. And no matter what he did, no matter how much he ran or begged or cried, no matter how he chose or how much he suffered, he was a part of it. Just entertainment, with no agency but that which had been decided for him. And it hurt, that self-aware lack of free will, and he never wanted to feel like that again, he just wanted to stop, he wanted it to stop, he just- he just-

He held the dagger up to his neck with trembling hands - that was about the most agency he could afford, refusing to use the weapon properly, and even then, all the reaction he got was an eyebrow raise. The edge of the blade rested in the small indent on the side of his neck, freezing cold against his skin, and - if he closed his eyes - he could almost convince himself that this was a choice. That he was escaping of his own volition. He had considered it before, of course, so it wasn’t too far fetched, but he would be lying if he were to tell himself that this was a choice he wanted to make. But he couldn’t go back. Not now, and not ever, he couldn’t go back to the pain and the screaming and the fear, he couldn’t go back to wondering every night if he was real, if this was a nightmare that he could wake up from, and praying that he was right, and he knew that this was the only chance he had. Back there, he didn’t even have the agency to die. Even that privilege had to be given to him, by someone who saw his whole life as nothing but a vaguely interesting theatre production.

“Don’t worry about the pain, by the way,” Avarice called, either oblivious or apathetic to the trembling sobs coming from his victim. “As long as you cut the right place, it’ll be quick.”

It’ll be quick.

It’ll be over.

It’ll finally be over.

He took a deep breath, not wanting to go out in more of a pathetic state than the situation warranted. He could keep hold of his dignity; it was all he had. He pressed the blade in further, wincing as the skin broke, and Avarice just smiled.

“Go ahead and die for me, honey.”

Avarice hadn’t been lying, when he said it would be over quickly. The blade slashed into his throat, spraying the tree he had been leaning against with a dark sanguine. Garlen refused to look at the figure in front of him, no matter the fascinated way he watched his eyes dilate and drain of life. So Avarice just watched, rapt, as his victim stopped moving: each spasm of the limbs, or flutter of the eyelids; the clatter of a blade dropping to the floor as he lost the ability to grip his only weapon; his body collapsing, prone, to rest against that blood-soaked tree.

Avarice gave an amused half-laugh, waiting a few paces back for the blood flow to stop: and when it did, he knelt down next to the body and lifted the chin, examining the wound. Surprisingly precise for someone in that amount of distress, as expected of someone who could get out of the facility without help. To be honest, he had been expecting more - although this was fine too, of course. Unquestioning obedience wasn’t something he was going to complain about, especially when it gave him a scene like this.

He could explain this to Kirren. It’s not like much was lost.

#tw suicide #tw coercion #tw gore #tw drug mention #whump #lab whump #psychological whump #intimate whumper #oc whump #i think that's all?#lmk if i need to tag anything else #avarice kiriatta

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