#did seriously consider taking a mental health day but i have a meeting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chimcess · 2 months ago

Text

Waterlog || pjm (6)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 9.4K+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, SMUT, smut warnings under the cut...

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

Smut Warnings: virgin!Jimin, both of them are inexperienced, bad past sexual experiences, vaginal fingering, praise, public sexual contact, denied orgasm (unintentional), very vanilla and tame all things considered

Jimin stood a few feet away, his hands tangled in his hair as he smeared a thick layer of gelatin through the strands. The sight of him working so meticulously brought a smile to my face. It was a familiar scene for synchronized swimmers, their hair slicked down with the sticky goo to ward off chlorine’s wrath. But I knew a few racers who swore by it too. Jimin had never bothered before I pointed out how his hair was looking increasingly parched from our relentless days in the pool. I had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, and now it was a daily ritual for him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, fighting the urge to reach out and trace my fingers over the smooth expanse of his back. The phases of the moon inked down his spine were an irresistible temptation; I longed to press my lips against the artwork.

The event had been a last-minute switcheroo—originally slated for solo swimmers covering 250 yards (10 laps in this community pool), but changed when the organizers realized the length of the meet would be an endurance test in itself. Now, competitors were grouped into teams of five, each swimmer tackling two laps. Jimin was content with his team but jittery about being assigned breaststroke, his weakest stroke. Yet, I had no doubts. After months of grueling practice, his team wasn’t about to falter.

“It is what it is,” he muttered, rinsing the gelatin from his hands. “I’m more bummed about having to redirect our donations, but at least it’s still going to cancer research. Can’t complain too much.”

“Just have fun,” I offered. “Trey got to pick the charity because he pulled in the most personal donations from your team. Just do your thing and it’ll be great.”

I fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt, still struggling to accept the coach’s uniform of polo and jeans. It seemed every other coach in the pool wore it, but I felt more like a middle-aged man at a barbecue than a swim coach. The Sketchers I wore didn’t help. Jimin had picked the dark blue color for me, which was comfy enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked ridiculous.

“You look great,” Jimin said, catching my eye in the mirror.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. He’d been saying that all day, but I struggled to take him seriously. My reflection told a different story—frumpy and awkward. At least the bit of makeup I’d applied managed to make me look somewhat alive.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, adjusting his swim cap. “You look nice in that color. I even like the eyeliner thing you did. You look pretty. You always look pretty.”

I smiled, wanting desperately to kiss him but feeling too on edge. We’d sworn to keep our relationship under wraps. This year was bound to be chaotic, and the last thing we needed was reporters sniffing around if the word got out. We were confident we could manage it, but as I let my eyes roam over his mostly naked body, and with the thrill of his compliment still fresh, I wasn’t so sure.

How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he looked like that? His presence was almost a tangible force, and the temptation was just too great.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice. “Are you almost ready to join the others? William seemed really excited to work with you.”

He shook his head, a pout forming on his lips, and the sight of it made my heart race.

“Socializing is important,” I teased, reaching out to touch his arm. “What would people think if you spent all your time locked up in your changing room with your coach?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face before he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. I gave him a warning look, though the smile I couldn't suppress gave away my true feelings.

“I think they’d take one look at you and understand.”

I giggled, “Such a flirt.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. The heat of his bare skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. It had never really occurred to me that he might be doing this on purpose. Hoseok’s words still echoed in my mind. Right now, Jimin seemed at ease with physical intimacy, but I knew better. If I tried to take things further, he would retreat and change the subject.

This was something we’d have to address when we got home. For now, I wanted to see how far we could push things. If he wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t mind being the guinea pig for this exploration.

I hopped onto the bathroom sink, wrapping my legs around one of his. We had taken over the family restroom at the event center, Jimin having convinced the others he needed solitude to get “in the zone” before his swim. I trailed behind him dutifully, my sunglasses barely hiding my excitement.

Jimin’s hands traced down my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He fit against me like a perfect puzzle piece. When his fingers slid under my shirt to grip my waist, I couldn’t help but grind my hips against his thigh. The jeans dulled the sensation, but I sighed in pleasure. Jimin froze.

“Sorry,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck, mortified. “Got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice deep and rugged, stirring something primal within me. I bit back the more selfish, needy side of me and just held him. If he couldn’t see my face, maybe he wouldn’t know how desperate I was. “Do you want to do it again?”

I leaned back to look at him. His shyness was evident, but he wasn’t scared. I needed to be sure before getting excited.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? We can talk about it later if you want.”

Jimin shook his head, his grip on my waist tightening. The sensation was almost too much to bear. I suppressed the intense arousal for his sake. I wasn’t going to get off on his thigh, especially with these jeans on, but I was willing to go along if it meant something to him.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said softly, as though confessing a secret. “I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

“Baby,” I cooed, gently caressing his face. He avoided eye contact. “Hey, look at me.”

He did.

“Don’t worry about that stuff,” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “Whatever we do together is going to feel good because we’re together.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead against mine. He seemed anxious, almost sad. I wished he’d open up more; it might ease his burden.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “I want you so bad but I get nervous.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

We stood there, both caught in our tangled emotions. We had arrived early so Jimin could scout and time his warm-up routine before the event. I felt conflicted—my body was slick with desire, and despite knowing he was upset, I still wanted him to touch me. The fact that I was even keeping track of time for a quickie was almost criminal.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Chim,” I breathed, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or because you’re worried about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I struggled to articulate what I wanted. My fear of rejection was overshadowed by concern for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded, “Of course you can. I’m just worried about you right now. You seem upset.”

His hands slowly traveled up my shirt. I leaned back slightly, granting him better access. His hands ventured higher, and he admitted, “I’m not very experienced. It makes me feel insecure.”

His hands stopped just below my bra. “I know you’re older and have been with more people.”

I nodded, understanding his hesitation. I didn’t need the whole story to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“I’ve only been with one person,” I confessed. “You don’t have a reason to be insecure. It’s just me. Just us.”

He kissed me, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders. He pulled away, and I nearly cried out in frustration. He was driving me insane.

“It was one for me too,” he said, his hands tracing down my back. “It couldn’t… perform.”

The pieces fell into place. He was a virgin. It all made sense now.

“Did you ever…?” I asked, kissing up his neck.

“No. She told a bunch of her friends, and I got picked on for a while. I never tried again. Swimming took up so much of my time that it never came up.”

My heart broke for him. I wanted to know who had hurt my beautiful boy. I took a moment to calm myself, planting gentle kisses on his skin to soothe him.

“Fuck her,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his hands moving back to my stomach, then lower. I bit his ear playfully, and he moaned, slipping his hand into my pants. I could barely contain my pleasure.

“We’re not having sex here,” I said, trying to ease the pressure. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

He nodded, his gaze focused on my lap. He was still touching me over my panties, and the sensation was almost unbearable. I was almost ashamed of how wet I was, but after months of frustration, it felt almost justified.

“What time is it?” he asked.

I lifted my wrist. “We have twenty minutes before warm-ups.”

He nodded, slipping a finger into my panties. I jolted at the cold touch. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head, “Not if you don’t want to.”

He looked into my eyes as his finger gently traced up and down my folds. I sighed in relief, letting my eyes slip shut, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me.

His finger pressed against my entrance, and when he felt no resistance, he pushed it in all the way. I moaned, opening my legs wider. His movements were tentative at first, but soon became more confident, his strokes deep and deliberate. My body was on fire with need.

“Right there,” I choked out, leaning back into the mirror.

His fingers hit the same spot again, and I shuddered, trying to muffle my cries. Jimin’s touches were more assured now, making my toes curl.

“Yeah?” he cooed, adding another finger. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “You’re so perfect.”

I could feel myself shaking, my hands gripping his arm for support. I was so close, and my muffled moans were becoming harder to control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flew open. I looked at Jimin, then the door, and back to him. His pupils were almost entirely dilated, and he was flushed a pretty pink. His fingers were still deep inside me.

“Tara?” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

“Wrong bathroom,” Jimin called out, fingers still moving. I watched him, biting my lip to keep quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh! My bad.”

The man’s footsteps faded away.

“Time?” he asked.

I checked my watch and sighed. Jimin slowly withdrew his fingers, and I almost choked on my own breath when he put them in his mouth.

“Later,” he promised.

It was a promise that weighed heavily. I fought between being his girlfriend and his coach. The girlfriend wanted to forget everything else and keep him here. The coach knew better and that I would regret keeping him from something so important to him.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding off the counter. “You leave first. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He scoffed and took my hand. “I’m not leaving you after what we just did.”

“Such a gentleman,” I giggled, leaning into his side. “Make sure no one’s around, and we’ll leave together.”

We were the first ones at the pool, a handful of reporters already lurking around the bleachers, eager to catch the first glimpse of the swimmers. Jimin and I had let go of each other before entering the pool room, our roles as coach and trainee now firmly back in place. My steps slowed as I turned to him.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, my weariness of the press still gripping me. No one seemed to recognize me yet, and Jimin was an effective buffer. “Go and play nice.”

He flashed me a grin. “I’m an American sweetheart, angel. The people love me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, sweetheart, you better start talking. We’ve got warm-ups to do. Unless you want to cramp up and lose. If that’s your plan, be my guest.”

As Jimin charmed the cameras, I mentally reviewed our plan for the day. Regardless of the outcome, we were hitting the town for food and drinks. It was a perfect way to build rapport and expand our network. The more connections we made, the more likely someone would pass our name to a sponsor.

It struck me as odd that Jimin wasn’t a sponsor or ambassador for any major brands despite his popularity. When I asked him about it, he mentioned Hamilton’s belief that endorsements would be a distraction. His mother thought Hamilton was just jealous of Jimin’s success. I had to side with Nayeon on this one.

I was already working on securing a deal with Nike or Adidas. Their sportswear was among the most recognized worldwide, and getting Jimin’s face out there would set him up nicely for life after the Olympics. He had at least one, maybe two, more Olympics before retirement, and sponsors could provide the financial cushion he needed while he focused on swimming.

I’d reached out to an old contact at Speedo, who was eager to get the endorsement process rolling. Miguel, the rep I’d always dealt with, was thrilled about the newest hot swimmer in town. A shipment of gear was on its way, and I was awaiting confirmation from advertising about a potential campaign. I hadn’t anticipated this, but Speedo seemed eager to be one of Jimin’s first endorsements. I planned to discuss it with him once the charity event was over.

“Ready?”

I jumped, Jimin’s laugh ringing in my ears.

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased. “Laugh it up. Just take off your clothes and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling off his jacket and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip-flops followed, and before long, he was in the water. I stood at the edge, watching him as he began his laps. This was more about stretching than training, and I reminded him to take it slow.

The pool began to fill with other swimmers practicing their strokes. Jimin and the others tagged each other in and out, getting used to the relay transitions. I watched with pride. His breaststroke was impressive. His progress was a testament to his hard work, and I felt honored to be part of his journey. Relationship aside, he was dedicated, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore said, his gaze fixed on Jimin. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s a beast.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, another coach, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion. His shorter stature seemed to be a disadvantage, especially against the taller Olympic swimmers. Most of the men in the category were at least six feet tall, and the women were often taller than Park, myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench-press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler chuckled. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” a familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. Summer Lewis, an old friend from high school, had unexpectedly shown up. It was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer said. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at me as the others dispersed to speak with reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get some pain, especially in the cold, but I’m managing. Alive, so I can’t complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon. I pushed that thought aside. There was no room for survivor’s guilt today. I was happy. Everything was coming together. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath, my anxiety escalating. The reporters were closing in, and the thought of interacting with them made me physically ill. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. It was irrational, but I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, gesturing toward the pool.

“All the time,” I admitted, a bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded. “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin looked my way as I glanced back at him. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I nodded in return, signaling that I’d be back shortly. He needed to stay focused on the water and his team.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, tucking my thumb underneath my index finger and popping it through the other side. I waved my wrist, signaling that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face, my reflection in the bathroom mirror staring back at me. Today was overwhelming. My anxiety was through the roof, and the makeup on my face felt like a mask. It looked fine, as it always did, but it only made me feel more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew it. God, I was such an idiot.

And then there was Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I’d brushed off his vulnerability because of what? I hadn’t had any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I gave myself two minutes to cry, letting the guilt and shame flow out. Once my watch beeped, I dabbed my face with tissues and fixed my hair. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. Jimin was counting on me.

As I opened the bathroom door, I collided with a solid chest. I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into remained still.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

The voice was unmistakable.

Standing in front of me was Matthew Hamilton, his blonde hair starting to silver and slicked back with too much hairspray. His pale blue eyes, devoid of warmth, still unsettled me. He was built like an ox and as healthy as ever, but age was catching up.

“Good to see you, Otter,” he said, his tone dripping with boredom. “Seems like you got stuck with my leftovers.”

I was too furious to speak. How dare he speak about Jimin like that? I had to hold myself together before I lost control. I was already at my breaking point, and his condescending attitude was the last straw.

“Too bad they couldn’t find a swimmer up to your caliber,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the offense. “Even with a limp, you deserve better than Park. Kid’s got no spirit, and don’t even get me started on the drinking.”

I scoffed. “Jimin doesn’t drink.”

“Not anymore, maybe,” Hamilton said casually, as if trying to make small talk. “He used to drink like a fish until his brother died. Working with him was a nightmare. Glad you’re not dealing with that shit with your bum leg.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my leg,” I snapped, at least making him look slightly chastised. “And for the record, that ‘nightmare’ you keep talking about beat your personal best in his last competition. So if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a has-been who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I shoved past him, barely moving him an inch. My steps were heavy as I stalked down the hallway, my anger searing through me. I knew my face betrayed my emotions, and the cameras would catch every detail. It was almost enough to make me turn back and hide in the bathroom.

But I had someone counting on me, and he was far more important than protecting my pride.

Jimin was standing with the group when I returned, three minutes to spare. He clocked something was off right away, and so did Summer.

“What crawled up your ass?” she asked.

“Some dumb bitch,” I huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I bumped into an asshole on my way out of the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do we need to tell security?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I think I gave him enough of an earful to keep him the hell away from me.”

I didn’t want to reveal who had bothered me. It would only cause unnecessary drama and upset Jimin. We had an event to focus on.

“Let's go over the plan one more time.”

Taking over as head coach, I directed the team. The others were happy to hand over the reins, and the boys took direction well. We reviewed the order of events, their best times, and their confidence levels. After a pep talk and some words of encouragement, it was time for the boys to swim.

Jimin was third in our group of four, and I watched him intensely. How well he performed today would set the tone for the rest of the season. He was signed up to compete in the breaststroke event at the Olympics, along with other solo swimming events. I knew just how skeptical people were about his chances. Today’s performance could reignite interest in him, which was crucial for securing sponsors.

Jimin took his place on the block, laser-focused and ready to dive in as soon as Trey tagged him. Trey was the fastest in the pool today, giving Jimin a head start before the others were halfway back across.

I held my breath. Jimin was a bullet in the water. Not as perfect as I wanted, but much improved. He reached the touchpad and pushed himself back across the pool. Team 3 was catching up, but Jimin would finish first. I watched as he gave one final push and tagged in D’Angelo.

Take that, you old bastard, I sneered internally. My anger surprised me; Hamilton deserved my contempt. No one gets to talk about Jimin like that. Ever.

D’Angelo butterflied us to victory. Our team hugged each other as the announcer declared our win to the cheering crowd. The bleachers were filled, the audience screaming their praise at the four men. They basked in the glory. All I could do was stare at my pretty boy’s smile in awe.

I really did love him.

Even if I didn’t tell him right now, I knew in my heart that I did. I went up against Matthew fucking Hamilton for him, came to this charity function, and kept it together. Now, I was going to talk to some news reporters, all because I loved him.

I love him, I love him, I love him…

“You’re a damn good coach, Y/N.”

I turned to smile at Summer. She was beautiful, her brown eyes warm and kind. She reminded me of Giselle, but her features were sharper, her nose broader. I remembered us cutting up after placing in nationals right after we turned 21. I hadn’t thought about her in so long I forgot what it was like to miss her.

“So are you. D’Angelo is one of the best I’ve seen for his age group. How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Turning seventeen next month. Hope he’ll be Olympics-ready next time, but I don’t know if he’ll stick with it.”

“He will. You can see it in his eyes.”

D’Angelo was talking to Jimin, the high schooler bubbly and starry-eyed. He had a slight stutter and kept apologizing about his tics. D’Angelo had Tourette’s and clicked his tongue and winked a lot. He attached himself to Jimin once they got comfortable, and my boyfriend told me he had followed the younger swimmer on social media.

“Where does he go to school?”

“Pioneer High,” she replied. “His family moved to Ann Arbor a few weeks ago. He was going to school out here in Allendale.”

What a small world.

“Does he need a new coach?” I asked. “I’m out in Saline. It’s only twenty minutes away from Ann Arbor.”

Summer seemed excited about the prospect of us working together. She said this was their last meet as coach and student, and she was sad to see him go since he was the only person serious about swimming professionally on their team. I gave her my contact information and asked her to pass it on to D’Angelo’s parents. I saw potential in him and wanted to keep that fire in his eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait until after the Olympics,” I reminded her. “I’m up to my neck in work right now.”

“What about weekends?” she countered.

“Maybe Saturday,” I sighed. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I want to commit to it right now. I’ll be in hell until July. Between Nationals and all the other competitions Hamilton signed him up for, we’re not getting any breaks.”

Summer hummed, eyeing the reporters. They had gone to speak with the boys, all of whom seemed eager to share their happiness about the win. St. Jude’s would be getting a hundred thousand dollars from today’s event. Reaching into my pocket, I asked Summer if she had recorded the race.

“Nicole did,” she told me. “She sent it to the group chat already.”

“Excellent,” I grinned. “Jimin’s mom wanted to see him swim. She was so disappointed she couldn’t come.”

I felt Summer watching me as I unlocked my phone. Watching the video, I was pleased at how well-shot it was. You could see all of our boys on full display. I thanked Nicole for the video and saved it. Pulling up Neyeon’s number, I sent the video and promised her to have Jimin call her as soon as he was available.

“You two together?”

I looked at Summer, keeping my face neutral.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping,” she laughed. “It’s just…you two seem very close.”

I raised an eyebrow. Lying wasn’t something I did often, and this felt wrong but necessary. I didn’t want anyone to know about us. It took one person saying the wrong thing, and we’d be up shit’s creek come July. Our relationship was frowned upon by SafeSport and would be considered imbalanced.

“We’re not.”

Summer did not look convinced.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Y/N. You’re just a trainer while he’s still in Michigan. A stand-in until Bunch finds him a new coach. We all know that, and you’re not breaking the code of conduct.”

“I’m not a temp,” I sighed. “We haven’t disclosed anything yet. I wanted to wait until after the Olympics, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step down before that happens.”

Summer placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be in Colorado in April, right? Tell Bunch your job as coach is over and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t get it,” I shook my head. “Ozzie wants me to be his permanent coach. That’s been the expectation this entire time, and I know Jimin would want the same.”

“Well, he can’t have his cake and eat it too,” she said, glancing at the reporters. “Get him to understand the position you’d be in. I’m sure if you told him your romantic relationship would make you look bad, then he’d be more willing to get help elsewhere.”

“He wants to finish the season with me by his side. It was the only compromise he was willing to listen to.”

“Put your foot down. Find other options. Christmas is around the corner. Spring won’t be too long after that. You should step down before Oswald finds out. Don’t screw yourself over, babe. You’ve worked too hard for this to let some kid take it away from you.”

I snorted, “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“No,” she argued. “He’s being selfish. You both are.”

I knew she was right. I should have waited until I was no longer attached to him in this way before starting anything. I knew it from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to be in this position. Summer had a point. Finding him a permanent coach before we went to Colorado in April was a good idea. If I was just a trainer, then nothing would be inappropriate, and I could still help him out in the gym.

“Are you looking for anything?” I joked.

Summer laughed. “Girl, I’d love to work with that boy, but I don’t think we’d line up this year. I have kids now. I can email you a few recommendations.”

“Thanks, Summer. I don’t know how big of a deal it’s going to be, but I’ll talk to Bunch about it.”

“Anytime, Otter. I’m just speaking from my experiences. He might tell you something different. Don’t spiral over it. I know you.”

I always hated that stupid nickname, but I had to put on a smile. Cameras were coming our way, and I needed to be sure I was on my best behavior. For Jimin’s sake.

The interview went better than I expected. I didn’t have to talk about myself a single time, and it didn’t look like any of the reporters here knew who I was. It wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t complain. We spoke for five minutes before they moved on to the others. Taking that as my cue, I went to collect my athlete.

We had a lot to talk about tonight.

Jimin smiled when I approached. The other three boys greeted me just as eagerly, and I was more than happy to hand out my praises. D’Angelo and Trey went to mingle with the losing teams. Paul went to find Nicole, leaving Jimin and me alone.

“You look upset,” he said, handing his duffle bag over when I held out my hand. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk to you later.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” I reassured him. “Something private. I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay, Coach.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I thumbed through the email Summer had sent me earlier. Jimin had been invited out with the other boys, and I had pushed him to go. I told him I had paperwork and reports to handle, that he should enjoy his night off. He seemed reluctant but left anyway.

The truth was, I wasn't ready to have this conversation with him. Every time I tried to bring up our relationship, he brushed it off, saying he was fine with waiting until after the Olympics. But I knew better. It would look worse if we waited until he won a medal to disclose everything. I was his coach, temporary or otherwise, and it was my responsibility to make sure boundaries weren't crossed.

I should have never come here. Not when I knew exactly how I felt about him before I did. I was such an idiot.

Finally, ready to face the music, I called Ozzie. It was still early in Colorado, but I knew he'd answer. I never called him unless it was important. Maybe, if I was lucky, Whitney would pick up, and I could chat with her first. She always had a way of helping me get my head straight before unleashing my worries on Ozzie.

"Hello?" No such luck tonight.

"Hey, Oz," I greeted, the worry in my voice making me want to hang up. "How are you?"

"Fine. What's wrong, Otter?"

I sighed, "I fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

So I did. I spent half an hour unloading everything that had happened since I moved to Michigan. How attracted I was to Jimin, but how I pushed those feelings aside to coach him. The months of slowly building longing. Sushi night in Detroit. The date when I came back from visiting home. The kiss on his couch. The brief sexual encounter this morning (though I left out most of those details). I told him everything.

To his credit, Oswald just listened. He only spoke every so often to clarify something or ask about a small detail I left out. As my story came to a close, the pit in my stomach felt like someone was sitting on me. My hands began to tremble.

"I'm so sorry, Ozzie," I cried. "You trusted me, and I fucked it all up."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he finally said, his voice soft and gentle. "Summer was being dramatic earlier. What you two do is your business as long as you disclose it."

"But-"

"Katinka Hosszú and Shane Tusup are married. Coach-athlete relationship. They've disclosed it, and they're fine. You and Park are doing the same thing. I'll let everyone else know, and you'll be fine once the Olympics come around."

"I just don't want to be a bad person, Oz."

"You're not," he soothed. "You did the right thing by telling me. I'm happy for you, Y/N. You've been alone for too long, and that kid needs someone like you in his corner. He's been through a lot."

Wiping my face, his words brought back my encounter with Hamilton. The words he used to describe Jimin were so far from reality, but I still couldn't find it in me to not believe him. Matthew was a jerk, a stupid one at that, but he was sincere in his annoyance.

"I ran into Hamilton today. He said some shitty things about Jimin. Called him a drunk."

Ozzie cursed under his breath.

My heart rate sped up. So it was true? But that didn't make sense. Jimin didn't even drink. I had never heard of a drunk who didn't drink. Unless he was in recovery.

I thought about my dad. He'd been sober for five years now. It was one of the only compliments I could give his new wife. She kept him on the straight and narrow. Imagining Jimin in my childhood basement, too drunk to stand up, crying for a wife that wasn't coming back felt wrong. I could never put him in that position. That wasn't him at all.

"That's something you should talk to him about."

"But it's true?"

"To an extent," Ozzie admitted. "I wouldn't call him a drunk, but the kid can hold his liquor. He was worse a few years ago, but he's been great for a long time. Hamilton is just exaggerating."

But I had a gut feeling he wasn't.

"Thanks for talking to me, Oz."

"Anytime, Y/N," he chuckled. "And delete that damn email. He doesn't need a new coach. You're working magic on him."

"Night."

Tossing my phone on the bed, I slammed my laptop shut and put it on the nightstand. Today had been a disaster. We came here and won, did exactly as well as I had hoped, but it felt hollow. I didn't know who to believe. Summer's concerns were valid from an academic coach's perspective, and I understood her worries. It was strange to me as well. Ozzie was a far more reliable source, but it felt too easy. Things were never that simple for me, and it was difficult to calm down enough to believe what he said.

Curling into a ball, I stared at the front door. He'd be back soon, and I'd have to explain my strange mood. I knew he'd be upset with me for sending him away after saying we needed to talk, but I hoped he'd forgive me once I explained why I needed space to think. So many decisions needed to be made, and I knew I would only hurt him if I tried to do anything before screwing my head back on.

For now, I decided to go by Ozzie's advice. If any issues came up, we'd deal with them together. As a team. Jimin would prefer it that way, and I could take some of the pressure off my shoulders.

A beep. A wiggle. Another beep. The door opened.

"Stupid keycard doesn't work right," Jimin grumbled to himself, slipping out of his shoes. "I knew there was a reason it was so cheap."

I slowly sat up and watched him. His hair was in his eyes, and his skin looked a little pale, but he seemed to be in a good mood. I couldn't smell alcohol either.

I wanted to punch myself in the face.

I wasn't ready for that conversation yet, but I knew avoiding it would only make things worse. If I let my mind wander, it would spin the worst story ever told, and I'd constantly be checking to make sure he wasn't drunk.

Jimin didn't drink, I told myself. Jimin's been doing great.

He went straight to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to collect myself. I needed to be honest but cautious. If I told him word-for-word what Hamilton had said, it would only make him feel bad. Starting with the good news first might help. Maybe learning that we didn't have to hide our relationship status going forward would ease the sting of his old coach's words.

I would have to approach this delicately. The toilet flushed. The water ran. The bathroom door opened. It was showtime.

"Had fun?" I asked him, knees pressed against my chest.

He smiled at me, "They're all really nice. Wish you were there."

"Next time," I promised. "Want to put the TV on?"

Jimin shrugged, "Sure. Food Network?"

"Chopped might be on."

It was actually Iron Chef, but we both liked that show too, so we kept it on. I tried not to stare at Jimin as he got undressed. He only wore a shirt and boxers to sleep, so it was very distracting. I needed to be focused and ready for anything.

Climbing into bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face into my side. I was still sitting up, cradling my legs, but Jimin's whining finally got me to relax. Sliding down, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him throw the blanket over me.

This was my happy place.

"I missed you," he mumbled, fingers playing with my hair.

"I missed you too," I told him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"What's wrong, angel?"

I felt my eyes welling up. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

I took a deep breath.

"I told Coach Bunch about our relationship. He said we'll be fine, and he's going to put in a disclosure form with the board for us. We'll probably get an email to sign a few documents in a couple of days."

He kissed my forehead, a large, toothy grin overtaking his entire face. I couldn't help but smile back. I knew it would make him happy. Gripping my hair, he yanked my head forward for a kiss. He couldn't stop smiling even as our lips collided. His joy eased some of my anxiety about the conversation that was to come.

"I'm so happy right now," he giggled, kissing me again. "I can finally show you off like the pretty girl you are."

Relenting, I tightened my grip around him. I needed to focus on the good. Jimin wasn't going to get mad at me for being honest, and I had to hope Hamilton being a jerk wouldn't burst our perfectly formed bubble.

"I ran into Coach Hamilton today."

Jimin's smile dropped in sync with my heart.

"He said some things," I averted my gaze. "It upset me. That was my issue when I came back from the bathroom."

"What did he say?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

Jimin cupped my cheek.

"You were upset before you went. Why?"

I sighed, burying my face in his neck. It was easier to talk to him when I didn't feel his eyes on me. It never ended. The anxiety. The shame. The guilt.

"I just felt so bad about the bathroom thing. You told me to drop it, but it's still there. I don't want to make you feel pressured. I want you to feel loved when I touch you. I just want to make you feel good, Jimin."

"You do," he soothed, kissing my head. "You make me feel amazing. There's nothing wrong with the things we do. We're going to be okay."

I couldn't help but cry. I loved him so much. I could never, ever, let him go. He was everything I ever wanted. Perfect.

"And then, here comes this goddamn asshole," I cried, the words spilling out of me like a busted dam. I was past the point of no return, the fury and frustration rolling off me in waves. Any semblance of calm had fled, replaced by a raw, unfiltered torrent of emotion.

"He kept yammering about my 'bum leg,' saying you were no good, calling you a drunk. I don't know what came over me, but I just snapped. I never lose it like that, but I did. And now, I feel like I've ruined everything—your meet, your moment. And to top it all off, I went behind your back and talked to Ozzie—"

"Stop." Jimin's hands were on my face, his grip firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Please, don't hide from me. You didn't ruin anything, angel. I promise. I'm so happy we won, and you talking to Bunch is the best gift anyone’s ever given me."

I shook my head, unable to accept his words. The day had spiraled into a nightmare, and I felt responsible for every second of it. I couldn't celebrate with him, couldn't touch him, couldn't even look at him. I was a failure. I was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. I was going to ruin his career. His life. His—

"One," he took a deep breath. "Two," then another. "Three," he kissed my forehead. "Come on, angel girl. Breathe with me."

I blinked, following his lead. One deep breath in. One big exhale out. One breath in. One breath out. One, two, three, four; five. Ten, nine, eight, seven; six. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"There you go," Jimin mumbled. "Just calm down. I'm not mad. I promise you I'm not mad."

I nodded, my breath catching up with me. With my head cleared, the weight of my earlier words hit me like a sledgehammer. So much for being gentle and kind. I wanted to punch myself in the face. God, I was a horrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "That was unnecessary. And selfish. And wrong. I promised myself I'd stay calm, and then I just freaked out on you."

Sitting up, I wiped my face roughly, angry at my tears. I was too old to act like this when I was upset. I needed to learn how to stay composed and communicate. No one wants to deal with a crybaby who explodes all the time.

"It's okay to be upset," he replied. "That's a lot to handle alone, and you did so well today. I want you to know you can have these moments with me. It's what I'm here for."

"But you shouldn’t have to."

"I want to," he said, grabbing my face again. I hadn’t realized I had looked away. "I want to because I love you."

Automatically, I laughed. My disbelief was so great I was positive Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the bathroom and tell me I was getting Punk’d. But this wasn’t 2003. It was 2024, and no one had thought about that blemish on MTV’s record in over a decade. This was just me and Jimin in our hotel room, and he was telling me something profound, and all I could do was laugh.

He cracked a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, almost giddy with joy. "Nothing. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing."

His smile widened. Sitting up, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. I squeaked, giggled, and threw myself at him.

My mood swings had to be exhausting. I knew I had to be as well.

But he loved me. Jimin loved me. Even if I was the most exhausting girlfriend, he loved me.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes soft and glowing with unmistakable fondness. "I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"I love you, too," I whispered back like a secret. "I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "Don’t feel bad for telling me these things. You’re not ruining anything for me. I’m just happy you’re giving me the privilege to hold you when you’re down. You’re a suffer-in-silence type."

I snorted. "Woe is me."

Jimin leaned back and took me with him. Laying across his chest, I got comfortable and stared at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever seen. He needed a haircut soon. It was past his ears and too hard for him to manage. I’d let him go early next week so he could fit in a trip to the barber.

"There’s nothing wrong with your leg, by the way."

I snickered. "I told him the same thing. May or may not have called him a has-been, too."

That made Jimin laugh. The sound was like music. I loved it when he was happy. I was worried he was putting his feelings aside to make me feel better, but I had to force myself to let him come to me on his own time. Whatever Jimin wanted was what I wanted, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me about his past yet, I would accept that.

Because I loved him. And he loved me. I smiled. He loves me.

"You have questions, right?"

"About the drunk comment? Sure, but you don’t have to say anything. You can talk to me or not, and I’ll still be here."

He regarded me for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

I simpered. "You’re welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wanting to break the tension, I made a show of stretching my arms above my head. Yawning melodramatically, I curled up against his side. Jimin’s arms wrapped around my waist as if they were always meant to be there. As it turned out, a new episode of Chopped had come on.

Jimin was very pleased with this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we watched the chefs open their baskets. We had gotten lucky enough to only miss the introductions. For their appetizer basket, they got mofongo (something I had never heard of before), English peas, sparkling cider, and catfish filets. I marveled at the ingredients. I would have been utterly clueless.

"What’s mofongo made of?" I asked Jimin.

"Mashed up fried plantains," he replied calmly. "They put garlic paste and chicharron in it. You’d usually eat it with beef broth, but it can change depending on the recipe. It’s a Puerto Rican dish. I only heard about it after swimming with Luis Rivera at Nationals. It’s really good."

"It sounds good. Summer? Her family is Nigerian, and if we were lucky, her mother would bring these massive pots of food to our training sessions when we were in the U.S. Olympic swimming team back in 2012. I dream about her jollof rice. And the soups? Don't even get me started."

I watched as one chef used the mofongo to create a marinade for his catfish and raised an eyebrow. Points off for lack of creativity. Another person had taken the mofongo and turned it into a thick gravy. Both seemed like safe choices, but at least they were using it. The other chef hadn’t even touched it. They were very focused on a pot of boiling potatoes and frying the fish.

"Boiling more potatoes seems pointless," I muttered.

"Let him cook."

I snorted. "Yes, sir."

Jimin was right, of course. A few moments later, the man was mixing the potatoes and mofongo together to make a hybrid of sorts. After that, he assembled his fish pie. He used the cider to make a base gravy for the fish and peas, added in a few other veggies for more flavor, and piled on the potatoes. I did not think I would like the flavor of fish with heaps of mash on them, but it looked delicious as he plated them. Far better than the other two’s strange and avant-garde style.

It just wasn’t something I would consider an appetizer.

"That’s an entire meal," Jimin scoffed. "He’s going home."

"Get out of my head, kid."

He kissed my cheek. "Make me."

"Punk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Say it again," he giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he sighed happily. "I’m so happy I can just say that now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to just... not say it."

I thought about the semi-panic attack I had in Hoseok’s car and laughed. He had no idea how much I understood where he was coming from.

"Say it as much as you want, love," I kissed the underside of his chin.

We had both been right. The judges thought the pie was too much to be an appetizer.

The hiss of the shower jolted me awake, the sound slicing through the thick, restless silence of the early morning. I fumbled groggily for my phone. The screen lit up: 3:17 AM. The bed beside me was a cold, empty expanse, and a tight knot of worry coiled in my gut. I slipped out of bed, the chill of the floor biting at my feet, and crept toward the bathroom door.

“Chim?” I called softly, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile night.

“Yeah?” His voice was close, too close to the door for him to be in the shower.

“Can I come in?”

The moment of silence that followed was heavy, like the air before a storm. Then came the soft click of the lock, and the door creaked open just enough for me to see him. As I’d feared, he was still fully clothed, slumped on the toilet with that distant, haunted look I’d hoped never to see again. It had been months since he’d looked this lost.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the small space barely accommodating us. We were so close our knees touched, but I didn’t care. He needed me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on some dark chasm only he could see. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the steady drip of the showerhead. Eventually, he reached over and turned off the water. The steam billowed around us, wrapping us in a dense fog.

"Her name was Jackie," he said finally, his voice a whisper lost in the fog. "She was a friend of Annie’s. We were in college, and Annie practically forced us to go out so she could double date with Tom."

I hummed softly, encouraging him to continue. I didn’t understand why Jackie was surfacing now, but I had a sinking feeling she was the girl he’d mentioned earlier—the one who had made him feel small and worthless. Jackie. What a godawful name.

“She was one of those people who wore a mask around her friends and was someone else entirely when we were alone. I was 18, and she was pretty, so I let it slide. We had things in common, and we laughed a lot.”

He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Her friends thought I was weird and didn’t want her with me. They’d been tight since middle school and still acted like high school mean girls. I didn’t care much for them either, but Jackie always said she didn’t care what they thought.”

My heart twisted in my chest. I had a gut-wrenching feeling where this was going, and it made me sick. My poor baby. I placed a hand on his knee in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, but we hadn’t done more than a few kisses and hugs. I was gearing up for my first professional championship swim meet, and she was buried in schoolwork. Double major or something, I don’t really remember.”

He took another deep breath. “Our clothes were off, and I was so nervous. She seemed okay with it. We just got dressed and watched a movie. We both knew that things weren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s normal, Jimin,” I murmured, trying to fill the void of silence. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “She told her friends, who told their friends, who then told everyone in my frat about what happened. Then she was too much of a coward to face me and acted like nothing had ever happened. I was humiliated, mortified. I just didn’t want to have sex anymore. The drinking started after, but that was more a side effect of being in a fraternity with undiagnosed depression.”

I was at a loss for words, so I stood up. Jimin watched me as I lowered myself onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight.

Even if it wasn’t some grotesque horror story, it was still a deep, festering wound. Trauma was trauma, regardless of its shape or size. This morning had uncovered more than either of us was willing to admit.

For Jimin, it was confronting his fears of rejection. For me, it was the struggle to finally move on from guilt and shame. Namjoon's face came to mind, and I had to make my brain stop itself from going there. He would want me to be happy. He would want me to live. I relaxed into him, hoping that we could both find a way to heal.

Jimin sucked in a few deep breaths before his arms enveloped my waist. He hiccuped once, then twice, and finally, he began to cry.

I buried my face in his hair, my own tears mingling with his. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain, but I felt deeply honored that he was finally allowing his walls to come down. For all my talk about suffering in silence, Jimin was far more adept at hiding his pain than I was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He cried harder and nodded. “I know,” he wailed.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. Holding him in my arms, this beautiful, broken boy, I wished I could keep him locked away in this bathroom forever, safe from the cruelties of the world. I didn’t care if my legs went numb from sitting or if the grip he had on my ribs was starting to hurt. Jimin cried, and I stayed in his lap, a silent promise to be there, come what may.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

135 notes · View notes

damnfandomproblems · 4 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/damnfandomproblems/756381157294276608/httpswwwtumblrcomdamnfandomproblems756364815?source=share

The thing with the whole reality shifting nonsense is that while the practice may well have existed for a long time and may be possible

These tweens doing dumb shit like, for example i saw one girl a couple years ago suggest staring at red lights for hours, is not going to make you magically leave your body and go live in an alternate universe another version of you is in.

As a former witch, who loved learning about dreams and souls, and stopped due to the mental and emotional toll it took to do so, i can say that this kind of practice is extremely advanced, not to mention dangerous. You cant just "do it" with a few weeks of trying and whatever "ritual" you found online. And even if you did somehow manage it, you are putting your soul in unfathomable danger. And thats IF its managed.

Nearly all those kids on tik tok are lying and clout farming, and those who do get results are just lucid dreaming. Something that is far easier to practice and build a skill in doing for anyone. Lucid dreaming is something anyone can "cultivate".

The real danger with this sort of thing is the lengths these kids will go in order to achieve shifting realities. They make up "rituals" that harm themselves and share them amongst each other. They ruin their mental health and obsess over meeting fictional characters.

People don't seem to understand that this is self harm. Most of these kids are depressed and are using fiction and witchcraft as a coping mechanism. Which by itself is not bad, infact i started practicing witchcraft to cope with my own depression and anxiety. Until you understand that just not wanting to exist in this world, or go to another is considered suicidal thoughts, they are not content to exist in this world. They harm themselves in order to reach a goal they will never reach because they are so desperate. They try to live their lives in another reality to escape this one. Its not okay. A coping mechanism is supposed to help you, not harm you, or make you harm yourself. It's supposed to help you get through your day, your life, not avoid it.

These children are delusional and require professional help

If these kids were just trying to have fun in their dreams it would not be an issue. But people are not taking their mental health seriously because they are not saying they "want to die".

Posting as a response to a previous ask.

#fandom problem 5303 #response to previous problem #mod sf

34 notes · View notes

ezekielbhandarivalleros · 8 months ago

Text

The Meeting

Paring: Jake Tweneboah (Open Heart) and Ade Augustine (Bloodbound) - Friendship Pairing

Summary: Jake and Ade have been online friends for a while now. Ade plans on day to come visit Jake in Toronto

Rating: - General

Collab Fic with @aesthetic-aag

It’s a really special day for two best friends Ade and Jake. They are meeting for the first time since they met online a few years ago and will really help cement this friendship in stone. Here is the story of how it happened. It all starts at Budapest Park in Toronto

Ade's POV

If I had a dollar for arriving at places early, it would probably be in thousands. Seriously. Some people consider it a good thing but to me, it isn't. My anxiety keeps me occupied especially during these situations. It goes off the charts. Even though I know I can do it, I still doubt myself. Today has to be a good and memorable one. Because I'm meeting my long time online bestie Jake in Toronto. Yes, I'm flying from Muscat. And, by flying I meant I already did. I'm at the airport with my luggage looking at the exit gate. Me and Jake have been besties for years. We always talked about how we're gonna meet one day in real life and give each other the biggest of the biggest hug.

I'm so grateful to have met him and I know that so is he. But, my anxiety has other plans today. Even though, I'm excited and want to run out of the gate as if my life depends on it. I'm still hesitant. What if I screw up? What if I do something that ends up embarrassing me and him? Or only me? What if he thinks that I'm nothing but a stupid person? He is well aware about my mental health issues and is very understanding. I drink water, count till 10 in my mind, close my eyes and take deep breath. I open them. Now, I feel better and prepared. I walk towards the gate as I take a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing.

Jake's POV

The day is finally here, the person who I call my best friend is finally coming to see me in person right here in Toronto. I’m shaking and excited at the same time. What if she doesn’t like what she sees, what if I say something and it ends up costing our long-time friendship.

She’s a girl after all and females can be really harsh critics. I look at myself through my phone’s camera. Nothing is wrong with my hair and outfit. I shouldn’t worry about it too much, she basically almost knows everything about me. I take a couple deep breaths to calm my mind down. I’m not afraid of meeting people but why does meeting someone I've known for a years at this point now that it feels like a challenge.

I walk over to the trash and throw away the pair of empty lensed glasses. I've heard people say that glasses make you look smart and respectable but I don’t need to lie for someone to like me. They should like me for who I am. I look at the time for the last time on my phone and start walking towards the gates of the park we planned to meet up at. Well, here goes nothing.

In the distance I see her. I wave my arms to signal her to me. She doesn't see me and starts heading to a gruff looking man sitting on a bench. Just by looking at the man sitting it felt as if he'd beat anyone up if they looked at him slightly in a way he didn't like. I guess I should have told her how to find me. I quickly rush to her side to pull her away but in a way where she doesn't intermediatly see me and prop my hands over her eyes. I see a smile forming on Ade's face as she spins around to hug me. Even though we already know each other I introduce myself to her as if we are meeting for the first time. "Hello My name is Jake, what's yours" I say this with a smile plastered on my face.

Ade's POV

I hug Jake tightly. “Hello. I'm Ade. I'm so glad to finally meet you, Bestie. How are you?” He smiles. “I'm great. I'm really happy that we finally met.” “I told you we would meet one day in real life.” He nods. We walk and sit on the bench and exchange gifts. I couldn't stop smiling. After all these years, we're here. We finally met. And, he's such an amazing person. We talk about a lot of things. He asks me about my flight and I tell him that I came here straight from the airport, which earns me a surprised look from him. I ask him about Jackie and he tells me that she's well. Then, I tell him that I'm kidding. He laughed. We get so busy that time literally flies. We don't even realize that it's almost night.

Jake's POV

I called an Uber which I paid for straight to my apartment. As we arrived my cat Charlotte, a grey British-shorthair greeted us at the door. “Welcome to my home, please make yourself at home” I say. Ade heads to the sofa but not before going the dining room to place down the gifts she had brought me to then make herself comfortable. “Where’s Jackie, I’d like to meet her?” Ade asks me. “I’m sorry she isn’t here at the moment, she left to visit her family for a month” A frown starts to form on Ade’s facebut it quickly changes when Charlotte comes next to her asking to be picked up and cuddled. “It looks like Char really wants some attention, I’ll go make us cups of hot chocolate while you keep her company” I say as I head into the kitchen grabbing two cups. I pick out a SpongeBob themed cup one of my favorites for Ade while I choose a plain colored cup for myself.

Charlotte and Ade immediately start bonding as I can hear purring coming from the living room. Charlotte has seen Ade before from the pictures she’s seen her send me. The hot chocolate is ready and I offer her Ade the cup. Charlotte sees what’s going on and noticing Ade's hands move away from her and jumps away from Ade’s lap to lay in her cat bed. I guess she’s giving us two some space for chat and catch up. We talk about the many recent things that have happened in our lives and the books we’ve been reading. We get so busy that time literally flies. I excuse myself and head to the guest bedroom that we have if any of my or Jackie’s parents or siblings are in town and come to visit and set it up for Ade. I’m very excited that one of my besties is here. Next time it’ll be her turn to accommodate me. For now it’s time for me to enjoy our time together.

The day has come to an end as these two best friends will cherish these next coming days as the best days of their lives.

Ade's POV

It's been a few minutes since Jake left the room. And, by now me and Charlotte are inseparable. I take a toy ball and throw it and she brings it back to me. We keep playing like this and she's enjoying it from what I can tell. Jake served me Hot Chocolate and it's really good. I finished it on minutes after he left. I see Charlotte yawn and then go back to her cat bed and falls asleep. Looking at her, I yawn too. I'm still exhausted from my flight and I look forward to bed already. Jake comes back in the room and looks at Charlotte and then at me. “The bed is ready. Feel free to stay here as long you like.”, he says as he sits beside me. “Thank you bestie.” He smiles and looks at the empty cup and then asks, “Did you like it?” He looks kinda nervous. “I loved it. It was really tasty. Thank you.”

He smiles again and says, “Don't thank me. I'm just very glad that you're here. Finally, in person.” “I know. I can't still believe it, but I'm so grateful.” I say “Me too. You should go and rest. I'll see you tomorrow.” I nod to him and walk to the door. I stop and turn back. Jake gets up from the couch and I run back to him and hug him. For a moment, he surprised but then he hugs me back. “Thank you Bestie. I'm so glad that we finally met.”, I say. “No problem at all, bestie. And thank you too.” We hug for a moment before saying our goodbyes. Then we go into our rooms.

Tomorrow is another amazing day and I can't wait for it. Another day that I get to spend with my bestie and my new friend Charlotte.

The End.

#playchoices #choices #bloodbound #open heart #jake tweneboah

15 notes · View notes

polarisbibliotheque · 1 year ago

Text

Nemesis (Vergil x Reader) - Chapter 5

Nemesis

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Abyss opening is a rare occurrence. In his youth, Vergil wanted to harness its power, but never thought he would meet his greatest adversary along the way. Years later, the Abyss is once again open and that might call for some rather unlikely alliances.

Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (you are here!)

Age restriction: 18+ - there’s a lot of blood, violence, cursing and all those things people want to forbid younger audiences of seeing. Also, cosmic horror is a thing here. Procceed with caution.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Self-hatred, self-doubt, a lot of blood and difficult emotions going on this chapter. The reader and Vergil face their own selves, seeing them as fragile, hurt, bleeding, frail beings. There's a lot of "I'm not worthy of love" from Vergil too. It all happens after the fight with the Hell Puppeteer, so reader discretion thoroughly advised.

Seriously. If you struggle with themes like these and struggle with imagining yourself hurt/crying/vulnerable and it is too much, I do recommend not reading after the fight. The part where it begins will be in red, and underneath it, things get complicated. Take care of yourself and your mental health! ^^

Special Thanks: To @furyeclipse, the wonderful being who allowed me to use her character, Ovid, and is always helping me write their part properly and screaming over DMC on DMs ^^ You can check out Fury's writing (which I highly recommend) on this link: Fury's Ao3 Author's Notes: Oh, so much going on. The bantering with Vergil. The fighting alongside him. The mind horror of the Abyss. *sighs* jokes aside, I'm loving writing a reader who doesn't make it easy for Vergil. He deserves it for being a brat during blue coat era ;D And I regret nothing regarding the fistfight

Also, last chapter was quite small. Well, this one is quite huge. Buckle up! I hope you guys like it!

Chapter 5

“Perhaps the Abyss is some sort of prison.”

You only realized you muttered your thoughts out loud when Vergil’s eyes diverted from the street ahead to your frame by his side. You looked back at him – you researched on your own and spent most of the time on your company, unused to having someone else alongside you. Speaking to yourself out loud, even if in a murmur, was an acquired trait.

“What do you think?” You tried to conceal that fact pretending you intended to start a conversation. The blue devil didn’t need to know you were a pathetic little being who talked to yourself out of loneliness.

If only you knew back then Vergil did the same, you wouldn’t have felt that awkward about your little slip.

“You tell me, human. After all, you are the one with the source of knowledge on the Abyss.”

You couldn’t hide from your reaction how unsatisfied you were with his answer. Vergil knew he had won that round of bantering.

“Tsc. Every source I’ve found on human arcane libraries haven’t got much information. You probably know it as well.” You rolled your eyes, unsheathing your sword. Something stirred inside your chest and that could only mean the extinct demons were close. “I’m wondering why there’s a Puppeteer inside the Abyss if it was given as extinct an eternity ago.”

“It can be a prison…” Vergil considered back, brooding for a while. He could hear as if it was happening right at that moment: the voice of his mother, calling him from inside the Abyss. If it was indeed a prison, then why would Eva be in there? Would it be the work of Mundus? To make his mother suffer for the act of defiance from his father? Was… Sparda in there too…?

After all those years, Vergil never knew what happened to Sparda. He saw Eva brutally murdered by those demons – and yes, there was a great possibility they had taken her to eternal suffering. Dante was supposed to be dead if she hadn’t gone through all that to save at least him… Only him.

Vergil should’ve died that day: mercilessly sliced by his own sword, his bloody body thrown in a forgotten cemetery while all his memories of a heaven burned to ashes, with only Dante as a survivor. If Vergil’s demon hadn’t awakened that fateful day, he should’ve been dead. It was his father’s blood that saved him, his father’s heritage – something he was infinitely proud of; after all, it was the only thing he had left.

But… What about Sparda? Where was he? Did Mundus’ demons kill him? Did he perish in a fight while trying to keep them away from his family? Did he abandon them…?

Vergil’s greatest strength was also his greatest weakness. He had to stop thinking sometimes – and only his endless pursue of power gave him a little peace of mind.

“It can also be another level of Hell. A deeper one.” He finally emerged from the endless dark water of the ocean in his mind. If he didn’t, Vergil could easily drown.

“Hmmm. How does it open sometimes? It should be like Hell, with many seals and ways to open it.”

“If it is, it was probably sealed by Sparda.” Vergil side-eyed you, hoping to analyze your reaction to his father’s name. Many humans feared him, but many adored him, seeing Sparda as a savior of humanity. Even those who feared were thankful for the devil who protected mankind so many years ago.

“I don’t think so… If Sparda really existed, he locked the gates of Hell. The Abyss keeps opening, so there must be something different about it.” You sighed, not giving much to Vergil other than your words. “Even if it is another level of Hell, it might not be part of what Sparda sealed away. If the legends are true, of course.”

“If…?” The word rolled slowly from Vergil’s tongue, as he kept gazing you. It was the first time he met a skeptic regarding his father’s origin.

“It might be just a bunch of hocus pocus, you know?” You shrugged. “A story to keep children scared and away from dangerous forests, like Hänsel and Gretl. As far as I know, that’s how great legends are born.”

“So you don’t believe in the Legend of Sparda?”

“I never found a piece of evidence that it actually happened.” You noted with an academic air to your speech. Vergil had to hold down the urge to wheeze from your words – after all, you were talking to the greatest evidence that Sparda was real. “I read a lot on books and yes, I do believe Sparda existed. I just… I don’t know if he was as heroic as the tales say he is.”

Vergil pondered your words for a minute before thinking about answering them. Indeed, Sparda was harsh and demanding, but he also knew when to show them love and care. From what he remembered, his father enjoyed the little human things – and how soft it was to touch them all in warm embraces, how magic it was to play fight with him and Dante on the fields, how gently he would caress Eva’s face… How much adoration he carried in his eyes.

When Vergil was a child, Sparda was never the great, heroic demon, savior of humanity – Sparda was his father. With flaws and strengths, he was just… Vergil’s dad.

Not as heroic as the tales said he was – just ordinarily human.

Vergil would have found an answer after mulling over your words if you weren’t both attacked by puppets – humanoid demons, looking like parts of various creatures who were reassembled together, walking in wobbly legs, falling apart at the joints, but attacking viciously with teeth and claws.

You avoided the attack by separating and allowing the demon to stumble between you. Soon, it had no arms left: you and Vergil attacked at the same time, curiously coordinated, slashing the demon apart. As you cut it in half, Vergil took off its head.

“Guess we’re close…” You pointed at the path ahead of you, making Vergil realize how many more puppets stood in your way.

“Try to keep up.”

His voice was arrogant as always, as Vergil plunged into battle. You scoffed, running right after him.

If you weren’t sworn enemies, you would be the perfect match in a fight – no demon would be powerful enough to bring down the both of you in battle, fair or not. Vergil was learning and applying, for quite a while now, the power of concentration over lashing out – but he was indeed aware of all his surroundings, including you.

As the dance of death among the puppets commenced, his silver eyes sometimes would linger a second or two longer than it should in your direction. Your movements, as he observed before, were swift and elegant, but there was something of aggressive. A viciousness picked up after fighting demons for a while – something you didn’t have before. As the days passed, you became increasingly stronger and a match to him.

And quite a match you were indeed – the speed with which your silver sword moved, painted only gleams of bright light between the dark blood of demons spilling on the pavement. Right by your side, the ghost of the Yamato could barely be seen as the blue devil used all his skill to slay as many demons as you – or even more.

Your back found Vergil’s back as you both stood still at the end of the street, finally settling your swords and observing the carnage of demons scattered across the ground. On the other side, the Hell Puppeteer had its soulless black holes meant to be eyes turned to you, the mouth eternally opened in distress, screeching with the loss of its demon army.

“A horde down…”

“One more to go.” Vergil completed your thoughts, slowly turning alongside you towards the Hell Puppeteer.

The ancient demon was at least three times taller than you, but neither you nor the blue devil’s steps faltered while walking towards it. The red mouth gleamed a haunting aura in the cold air of the night, but you and Vergil held your heads tall.

He was the only one who carried as much pride as you did in your steps.

What brought you both to a halt, though, was the sound of dragging. Thousands of things dragging, right behind you. Turning quickly, you and Vergil found all the parts of the demons you had previously slain to be dragging towards each other, grotesquely reassembling in wobbly creatures and screeching towards you once again.

Of course. They were puppets. Killing them wouldn’t be that easy.

“This will take forever at this pace.” Vergil groaned between his teeth, keeping his eyes on the approaching demons.

You sighed: even if you didn’t want to admit, he was right. If those demons really could reassemble and weren’t even alive to begin with, constantly tearing them apart would do nothing. How, then, would you kill something already dead?

As you looked up, quickly searching for the stars to illuminate your thoughts, the red gleam of the Hell Puppeteer – slowly approaching you, with its guttural screech that could haunt the bravest of human hearts – made you notice something you wouldn’t have seen in other circumstances: faint lines in the sky, as if made of the finest and purest glass, falling from behind you towards the little puppets.

With a quick glance, you chuckled within yourself: it was indeed a puppeteer – for those glass strings tied firmly across the dark claws of the Hell Puppeteer.

“Look at the sky.” You pointed out, making Vergil’s silver eyes finally see what you were seeing. “I’m guessing if we cut the strings, they will all fall apart for good. But…” You sighed once again, already attacking one of the creatures who were close enough to hurt you. “There are too many of them. I’m not that quick; the Puppeteer will catch us before we’re done.”

Vergil looked back in a matter of seconds, arriving to the same conclusion as you. There was only one thing he could do, then.

“Stay behind me and don’t move.”

You furrowed your brows, ready to argue with that conceited demon right in front of you. Who did he think he was to talk to you like that? Hadn’t you proved already you were strong enough to beat him in a fair – or even unfair – fight? You had managed to draw his blood. He shouldn’t be that full of himself and patronizing towards you.

Before you could even start to argue, Vergil sheathed the Yamato and, with a snapping sound while his head quickly looked up, the man gave room to a creature with the strike of a blue lightning. You had no words, but there he was: with skin made of black and blue scales, the sheath of the sword as part of his arm, claws instead of nails and horns crowning his head.

You took a few steps back as he took his hand back to the Yamato, flexing his legs in an attacking position you had noticed already he had a preference for. Your feet stopped moving, though, when the air around you seemed to warp. Time itself became denser, almost as if you were under a gelatinous body of water. It was increasingly difficult to breath until he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

With eyes wide, you maintained your feet glued to your place as you only managed to see dark blue figures of warped air and the sharp glimmer of the Yamato cutting everything on its path. The floor underneath your feet trembled slightly and, in a matter of seconds, the blue devil was kneeling in front of you, in a typical position to finish his attack.

As he got up and that devilish form enveloped in a ring of blue light, the man with white hair and silver eyes returned to his human form, finally sheathing the Yamato once again.

And, when he did, all the strings exploded in a million of pieces, cut in a fraction of seconds, falling from the sky like a crystal rain.

All the demons fell to the floor at once – dismembered. Unmoving. Defeated.

You had to admit to yourself, that was a lot more impressive than you had expected. You wanted to scream at how much you hated him: now, you had even more to surpass regarding that stuck up blue demon.

During all your life, you never wanted so bad to stab someone.

“A simple human like you wouldn’t be able to do this not even with years of training.” Vergil fixed the collar of his coat while walking the path towards the shocked and infuriated Hell Puppeteer.

“I don’t need to rely on demonic tricks to be my enemies’ demise.” Your comeback was as quick as his sharp words. “Or I shouldn’t have been able to draw your blood earlier, demon.”

“You did it out of sheer luck, human.” Even though he wanted to throw a murderous glare towards you, Vergil’s silver eyes kept fixed on the Hell Puppeteer. The creature never had its whole army decimated so quickly – it had never been so weak before; and that made it absolutely fuming. “Hadn’t this thing crawled out from its confinement, you would’ve known what real demonic power looks like.”

“Interestingly enough, I am the one with apparent access to the Abyss, not the real demonic power here.”

This time, Vergil couldn’t refrain from stopping right where he was and stare at you – his cold eyes mimicking glaciers, while you held them with pride on your own stare. The Hell Puppeteer didn’t seem to be as entertaining – and important – as winning a stare contest against that stuck up creature.

That was a thought shared between you both.

In the shadows, though, a set of bright and intelligent eyes watched you and Vergil with delight. Ovid reveled in the fact that child of Sparda had found his match – be it in combat or regarding the mind. You were, indeed, a very interesting human to follow; and something about your fearless and proud attitude towards Vergil was infinitely entertaining. After all, not many were brave enough to banter with the blood of Sparda, let alone make him bleed.

A quiet chuckle rolled in the darkness. In Ovid’s ancient eyes, humans were absolutely fascinating and ever-changing creatures that were always in motion, never stopping – so much more exciting than demons.

The Hell Puppeteer didn’t find you fascinating, though. Vergil would chastise you in order to at least try to win that little battle of wits of yours, but the demon wouldn’t just watch in shock with the loss of its puppets. Its claws flew towards you, and that made you both get back into battle.

Anyone who watched you wouldn’t say it was a fight – at least, that’s what Ovid observed in the shadows. It was fun watching you argue, but there was something of classic in the way you both fought alongside each other. It was a dance: a deadly waltz you and Vergil knew the steps quite well. Sometimes he guided, other times you took the lead. But you crossed each other and coordinated attacks in such a graceful and natural manner, it looked like a ballet of death – your hearts in synch, choreographing the steps for your enemy’s demise.

“The hands!” Vergil growled after an attack that made the Puppeteer slightly flinch. “Break the seal, break the power!”

You turned your eyes to the demon’s claws and immediately understood what Vergil meant: it had red glowing bracelets across its wrists, embellished with scriptures of an old language you couldn’t read. But that rule was always clear: whenever a seal was present in the body or around a demon, you had to break it in order to kill or subdue it. That was actually one of the first things ever mentioned on the Codex Daemonica.

Apparently, he did knew it by heart, just like you.

“I’ll get the one on the left! You get the one on the right!”

Vergil would have argued so he wouldn’t really be following a human’s orders, but that was already what he had thought to himself – you just mentioned it faster than him. Of course, you were fighting for your lives, and he wouldn’t be petty to the point of stopping everything to argue about that – but his mind would make sure to keep it noted for future encounters.

During the fight, though, Vergil did notice your body was starting to get tired – you were human, after all. And, even if he was focusing on killing the demon and going back to arguing with you, Vergil did have a sense of honor that you were doing that together. He wouldn’t let you notice, of course, but his next attack was designed so that the Hell Puppeteer would need to lean its left hand on the floor – making things a lot easier for you.

In the distance, Ovid was amused by the spectacle of a human and a demon working together. The blue son of Sparda wasn’t known for kindness, let alone being a team-player – but there he was, in his own way, helping the little human fighting alongside him. Vergil did have a demonic part in his soul, yet, somehow, he was helping this human fight off a creature. Was it for power? For pride? Or something else? It didn’t matter in the end: as tempting as it was to also have the son of Sparda as a study subject, his fixation on his demonic power would be an outlier in their grand experiment results. What a shame, really – it seemed as if, maybe, later in his life, Vergil would come to understand the mixed heritage he was blessed with.

For the moment being, though, Ovid would only note those changes and continue just observing.

The Yamato easily sliced through the seal on the right hand of the Puppeteer, raised in the air as it shrieked and tried to protect its own power – to no avail. Your silver sword found the seal on the left hand, needing a couple of hits to break the seal. Yes, you were tired, and using all your strength to have that fight meet its end. But, as Vergil knew too well, you wouldn’t give up.

The Hell Puppeteer let out a scream you almost had to cover your ears – even Vergil furrowed his brows and felt the sting inside his eardrums. The demon recoiled in a manner that was almost pitiful, but you both knew better and, with resolute steps, side by side, you and Vergil approached the creature now tossed on the ground.

With a swift last blow, you buried your silver sword in its chest while Vergil used the Yamato on its gleaming red mouth. With one last shriek, the Puppeteer burned to ashes until there was nothing left but you two – you with a ragged breath, leaning on your sword, and Vergil somberly quiet.

After a few seconds catching your breaths, though, your eyes met once again.

And you knew.

Vergil tried to run. The Abyss was still open and his chance was finally at his grasp – he could almost feel it touching his fingertips.

But you had made a promise: nothing was to come out and nothing was to go in.

With that in mind, you followed him – holding Vergil by his coat, you pulled him back, trying to hit him with your sword. His answer was swift, and, in the blink of an eye, your silver sword clashed with the Yamato.

The sheer strength of it made your swords fly away from your hands, dancing in the air towards opposite sides.

What a nuisance. That’s what you were in Vergil’s eyes. An incredible, annoying, petty human nuisance. Never in his life he had lost the grip of the Yamato, but there he was. His anger towards you increased as the seconds went by.

And it only became worse when Vergil found himself tossed on the floor, you on top of him, punching his face with your tired – but strong – human hands. His eyes lit with anger; his teeth increasingly sharper. Holding both of your wrists, Vergil tossed you away from him, ready to end you.

Even after everything you did together, he still underestimated your power and your human resilience. You got up faster than he expected – but Vergil still punched you. With wobbly steps, you couldn’t refrain from losing your balance – and he took the opportunity to hit you one more time.

His nails now were as sharp as claws. Turning back to him after protecting the right side of your cheek, Vergil finally saw: he had managed to draw blood. The cut on your cheek bled just like his – and you were finally even for that day.

“I won’t let you go any further.” You managed to mumble while wiping the blood from your face, raising your head to keep a little bit of your pride. You knew you had cut him before, but the fact that he did the same… It made your blood boil.

“You can barely stand…” Vergil answered in the same tone, beginning to feel the tiredness in his bones. He was demonic indeed, and his blood caried a heritage stronger than many others… But Vergil could only take so much. He also needed to rest after a long day – and he was beginning to feel that. “Don’t make me hurt you even more.”

“Don’t make me fatally wound you, stuck up demon.”

Both of you growled, reading your attack positions. Your swords were far away, but it was quite clear you could – and would – get on a fistfight if necessary. With those thoughts, you ran towards Vergil, ready to kick him far away from the Abyss – but, as expected, he too knew martial arts and managed to deflect and try a counterattack.

And Vergil’s demonic side couldn’t hold back a growl of utter annoyance when you deflected expertly and managed to scrape his face with a well-placed punch. In all honesty, he wanted to tie you up on a light post and enter the Abyss at peace so there would be no possibility whatsoever that you would follow him and continue being so annoying.

As the fight went on, that idea became increasingly tempting.

You managed to place a strong kick right on Vergil’s abdomen, making him stumble away from you for a few seconds. Neither of you realized how close you were to the edge of the Abyss; your eyes trained on each other, careful and attentive of whatever move you would make.

Until you heard a voice.

It was a cry, really. Silent. Lonely. Muffled. Buried deep inside the darkness.

Vergil frowned as he saw how much your expression changed – instead of anger and focus, he found a pair of vulnerable wide eyes, almost as if you had seen a ghost.

“Vergil…?”

And your expression was suddenly mirrored on his own face. It was his mother. It was Eva again. Calling him – far away, a ghost of a memory, but still… There. Just like it happened years prior, when he heard her in the Abyss.

You took your eyes away from each other – and you both fell into darkness.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped carefully, not knowing where you were getting yourself into. You didn’t understand what was happening – had you entered the Abyss? Was it reaching out to you? Who was crying…?

The floor was wet. You furrowed your eyebrows. Why were you barefoot? You were wearing your boots before… Weren’t you…?

A dim light could barely light the scene ahead. A frail shape – weak, bony, with their skin looking like it lacked blood underneath – kneeled on the floor, face covered by bloody hands, their back filled with several wounds: some fresh, some still healing.

Shards of a crystal heart were tossed on the floor, covered in blood: they tried desperately to put it back into place, but it kept breaking, over, and over, and over again… The wounds kept opening, the blood kept flowing. They couldn’t get up: they tried, but every time there was progress, they would break once more. Their strength was running out.

Your feet froze and you couldn’t move. That frail creature, that broken heart, that blood… It was you. And you didn’t want to see that. You didn’t want to acknowledge that beaten down creature – the one you would always find whenever you looked in the mirror.

You had broken all your mirrors before. You didn’t want to be forced to look at that.

But other people walked around. People you knew. People who left. They would look at that broken human and ignore – forget it existed.

In the end, you were always on your own.

You had to get out. You didn’t know where you were, but you had to get out.

Vergil didn’t have to walk too far to find himself in the dark – not able to see even his own hands in front of him. Everything he heard was his mother’s voice quietly crying, calling for him. Begging for his help.

“Is that you, my son…? Can you help me…?”

“Yes. I am coming for you.” He muttered under his breath, not knowing if she could hear him or not.

“But… Why did you leave me…?”

As soon as he heard that voice, Vergil’s whole body froze – his eyes as wide as the silver moon. He knew who said that. He heard that before.

Slowly turning around, Vergil felt the scorching heat gradually hitting his face. The amber inferno of a starless night, coming back again to haunt him.

“Why… Why did you leave me, mom…?” And Vergil found himself. Tossed on the grass of that godforsaken graveyard, blood on his mouth, his hands, his whole body; his life slowly slipping away from his soul. “Don’t… Don’t you love me too…? Am I… A bad son…?”

Fucking hell. He was a child. He was only a child. Vergil stared at himself trying to claw away from the demons who cackled at his dying state, dragging his almost dead body as far as he could. His eyes were red, raining with tears, his nails broken and stained with dirt. His hands… They were so tiny compared to how big they were right now. The Yamato was almost as big as him – and now, it could look like a toy in Vergil’s hands.

He was so small. So… Vulnerable.

“Am I not… Worth saving… Mom…?”

Vergil couldn’t see that anymore. He couldn’t help. He couldn’t grab his own hand and slay those demons – that was not how it happened. He died that day, and his demonic heritage saved him. The demon had awakened, and he managed to save himself.

No one came. No one appeared. He wasn’t loved, he wasn’t protected, and he would have to save himself in other to survive. That was it.

“Please… Don’t leave.”

Vergil couldn’t make out who said those words: if it was his younger self or his mother. But one thing was sure – he had to get out. He couldn’t stay. Or he wouldn’t survive.

The floor trembled once more under both of your feet. You lost your balance and fell to the floor while Vergil kneeled in order to remain anchored somehow.

Light and color gradually came back to your worlds – and, as you found yourselves lit up by the moon once again, you realized you were still close to the edge of the Abyss; still beside each other, even if far apart.

When you met his eyes, for the first time, you found a hint of vulnerability. Those silver moons stared at you with the same distress you looked at him. None of you knew what to do – after all, you were in the middle of a fight. Should you attack? Should you run? Should you… Search for solace in each other…?

Before any of those thoughts could be answered, the floor trembled once again, making nearby buildings collapse. You rolled even farther apart, and your path to each other was blocked by heavy pieces of concrete.

The Abyss was closed once again.

To be continued...

72 notes · View notes

dragonsarecool · 9 months ago

Text

Febwhump Day 8 - Why Won't It Stop?

A/N: The time travelling may have finished, but the nightmares certainly didn't. Set after Part III.

The first night back in his own bed was pure hell.

Considering that the night he spent at the lake with Jennifer was peaceful, he was extremely unnerved to find himself almost tumbling out of the bed, placing a hand over his mouth to stop him from awakening the house with his screams.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He couldn't stop himself checking his calendar each time he jolted awake, just in case he'd somehow done another trip to the past in his sleep. Marty desperately wished Doc was still around to provide some insight, even though he wasn't a medical doctor. But he would have more idea of what the hell is going on than I do.

What also troubled him was that every night seemed to produce some new horror.

Sometimes Tannen was successful in hanging him, and he would watch his deceased body tumble to the ground as Doc roared with anguish. Other times Doc was the one being hung, and Marty was forced to watch the life leave his eyes while struggling in the grip of Tannen's goons.

Some nights it was being trapped underneath his seventeen-year-old mother as she excitedly kissed him. She would moan his name and keep his arms pinned below him as they made out in the white Packard. Sometimes he would see his dad standing behind her, glaring at him while his mother caressed his face.

That was the only one that always made him vomit. He'd learnt to keep a rubbish bin near his bed that he could grab in case those unholy images greeted him during the night.

Occasionally the Delorean would fail to reach the target point, and instead of travelling back to 1985, he would watch himself crumpling into the wall of the cinema.

After the first six weeks he seriously began considering the notion that he would have to tell his parents. Although they hadn't asked any prying questions so far, it was clear to him that they had noticed he wasn't sleeping well. He would retire early in the evening, only to be rudely awoken by his brain at around midnight, and often didn't fall asleep again until the early hours of the morning.

His dad had once pointed out the dark circles under his eyes, and that had hit a little too close to home for Marty's liking.

It's not like I fought in a war or anything either! All I did was go back in time.

I mean, I did get shot at. And punched. And hung. And nearly erased from existence.

He eventually did enough snooping through psychology textbooks at the library to work out that he had some form of traumatic disorder, though that became the extent of his mental health knowledge as the terminology grew longer than ten letters. The obvious problem, however, was that he couldn't go seeking an official diagnosis, as he knew they would have him in the mental asylum by the end of the first appointment. Right. So getting official help is definitely not an option.

He spent about a weeks' worth of sleepless nights pondering if he even should begin to approach the subject with his parents. How the hell am I supposed to say it? Hey mom and dad, I'm the guy who made you guys fall in love 'cause Doc invented a time machine?

Ultimately, the more he thought about it, the more he decided that he couldn't tell them. He was now the sole reason that they had even laid eyes on each other; if he hadn't dragged George to meet Lorraine face to face, he would've had no reason to seek her out or take her to the dance. What if it breaks something in the space time continuum? What if they disown me? What if I fade out of existence or some shit?

Although he had no concrete scientific reasons why he couldn't tell them, he'd come to a very simple realisation: they would never believe him. Considering that there were no photos of him from when he was Calvin Klein (that he was aware of), and how much time had passed for them since they last saw 'Calvin', he was pretty convinced that they'd dismiss his story. Perhaps it's best this way anyway. They've finally got a happy marriage and I don't want to risk derailing it.

He came to the ultimate realisation that he had to tell Jennifer. After all, he was already planning how he was going to propose - she deserved to know what had happened to the man she loved. The other part of him felt that she shouldn't have to know. If he couldn't handle the memories of what he'd gone through, how did he know she could?

But on their next trip to the lake, Marty decided he couldn't bear it alone any longer; eighteen weeks of insufficient sleep had finally wore him down. She has to know.

When they were tucked up in their sleeping bags under the stars, he swallowed hard and whispered cautiously into the darkness. "Jen?"

Jennifer shifted slightly. "Marty?" When he didn't answer, she rolled over in her sleeping bag, noticing how Marty was avoiding her gaze. "Is everything alright?"

"…I think I have a problem," His voice shook as he whispered, his eyes welling with tears, "and I…I don't know what to do."

Jennifer gazed at Marty with concerned eyes. She gave him a small smile in the darkness, stretching her hand out to cup his cheek and turn his face towards her. "Oh, Marty…I was wondering when you'd finally tell me."

She leaned over to give him a gentle kiss, and Marty allowed the last of his resolve to crumble as he cried. Jennifer pushed herself out of her sleeping bag to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, stroking his hair soothingly as he cried in her embrace. "It'll get better, Marty. It will."

#bttf #fanfiction #back to the future #whump #fewhump #febwhump2024

11 notes · View notes

princesskayjay · 11 months ago

Text

Butterfly Effect

Fandom: Code Lyoko Word Count: 1953

Ao3 Link

Hi, @sapphicfolch! I'm your Santa for @codesecretsanta! I was going to do holiday celebrations, but then t he idea of Yumi getting possessed by Xana didn't leave me alone. So here we are!

Aelita tapped her foot anxiously against the metal pole on the chair. Ulrich was supposed to tell Odd, and Yumi had to get free of her brother, and Jeremy couldn't get free of Milly and Tamiya. William had answered and said he was already on his way! But it didn't do much to calm her nerves, or the air of unease settling in her bones. The longer that they waited, the more time they gave XANA...

The more risk her father was at...

Aelita rested her forehead against her balled hands. Thankfully for her heart, she heard the tell tale woosh of the old elevator doors creaking open.

"Guys!" She shot up, spinning around in the chair. And it... wasn't all the people she had hoped to see, but it was something. It was William and Yumi. Jeremy was supposed to be on his way, and she trusted that - He'd be able to transfer Odd and Ulrich when they got here.

"I had to promise to do Hiroki's homework for a month..." Yumi seemed a little annoyed, and Aelita couldn't blame her. She could offer to help out with that later...

"A small price for saving the world, right?" William, on the other hand, seemed incredibly enthused, just as much as he had been the day before, when they had made sure he was inducted properly into the warriors.

"Doing sixth grader math isn't my idea of a good time..." But it was a sacrifice she was willing to make, and Aelita wished she could explain properly her thanks that Yumi made all the sacrifices that she did.

Aelita opened the self virtualization program and hopped off the chair. "Hopefully the other boys will be here soon." She joined Yumi and William in the elevator as she hit the button to go down to the scanners. "Thank you guys for getting here."

The air in the elevator was thick and heavy as they descended towards the scanners. And worse yet, Aelita felt in her bones that something was going to go wrong. The same kind of feeling that Odd had to explain that future sight felt like.

And then the scanners opened, and it wasn't time to be worried anymore. It was time for action. ________

“So this is home sweet home, huh?” The voice was right, that was Yumi. But the tone was all wrong. “Yep! Your family is waiting for you!” Aelita was terrified of what came next. They had run into Hiroki at school, and that had been a near disaster that was avoided by the sheer fact that Ulrich was at least familiar in dealing with Yumi’s little brother. But Hiroki had just been willing to accept that his sister was a little sick after a sleepover in the dorms. That she wasn’t supposed to have, but… … Yumi’s parents had been a pain to convince. And sure, mimicking Yumi’s voice was the trivial part. The super computer did that so easily, it was one of the first functions everyone figured out how to use. But acting the part was another story. Nailing just the right level of seriousness without coming off as cold (because Yumi wasn’t.) and still sounding polite and respectful. It was hard to put that into words. And this clone wasn’t it, not really. YUmi had confessed once that her family was already worried about her mental health, and her ‘rebellion’...

“So that’s my mom and dad and… he said his name was Hiroki, right?” The clone checks, resting a finger on her cheek in thought. “Yes.” Aelita was good at being patient, but she couldn’t help the rising feelings of how this shouldn’t be necessary. That someone should have been able to save her.

“Can’t wait to meet them!” “Remember, you already have, okay? Just pretend.” The clone grinned at her. Aelita smiled back. Maybe it’d be okay, just until they saved Yumi. ________

Maybe they should consider themselves lucky that William distracted the mantas for so long. They were able to take him out, but he wasn’t exactly an experienced pilot on the overbike, and he drove pretty recklessly. (No more recklessly than Odd on a good day, sure, but recklessly nonetheless.) Aelita and Yumi fly out to the landing on the back of the Overwing, and with a nod, they both leapt off the vehicle. They’d just have to fight their way up to the core anyway. This way, it’d be faster.

“I’ll handle the closer ones. Aelita, can you get the ones that are further away?” Yumi asked quickly, raising her fans up immediately to catch a laser flying in her direction. “I like to think my aim’s better than Odd’s.” As if to prove her point, her first attack hits true, and the creeper explodes into pixels. Above them, the core is still being attacked, but Aelita is able to relax, just a little bit, now that they’re here defending it. If she and Yumi can so much as delay the attackers, then they would be okay.

Yumi opened her fan by Aelita’s head, successfully blocking an attack headed straight for her, and her other fan was thrown at the offending Manta. It also landed true, and returned safely to her hand. “Let’s keep going.” She turned and began jumping further up the platforms of the core room, and Aelita followed.

There were a lot of enemies, raining lasers down on their heads. And as they ascended higher and higher, a stray shot got lucky, nailing Yumi in the side as she stepped forward to throw her fan. Jeremy’s warning didn’t come fast enough, and Yumi was knocked off. The offending creeper was immediately destroyed by Aelita, but that was too little too late.

“Girls, watch out! There’s a Sycphozoa! What could it be planning- YUMI!” Yumi had been snatched out of the air with an agileness that Aelita doesn’t expect from the slow squid like monsters, “Gh… Aelita, you have to do something!” “On it.” Her first attack hit a manta that she was sure wasn’t there before, and with frustration she fired another attack to the same result. They were protecting it…. And yes it whittled down the numbers, but Aelita’s heart sank as the monster dropped Yumi and she slowly stood up.

“Dang it- Just hang in there, Aelita. Odd and Ulrich are on their way.” Jeremy sounded frustrated.

Aelita’s bad feeling was justified wasn’t it, she thought faintly as Yumi turned on her with her fans finally making their way back to her hands. ________

That first night they stood at the gate together, and Aeita pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time. It was just about when they said they’d check in with her family for dinner. So they could sit down and eat before going upstairs to have a sleepover.

Aelita had stayed over at Yumi’s once, almost a year ago at this point, when she had first come to earth and she was just “Yumi’s Pen Pal”, before she had a solid story for her return to earth and she was Odd’s cousin instead. And if it weren’t for that prior explanation, Aelita didn’t know if her request for a girls night would have gone over nearly as well.

She wanted a girls night, but not like this.

“Let’s roll!” Aelita shook her head. “Yeah. We wouldn’t want to be late, they’d get mad.” And they wanted to try and keep them from being mad as much as possible. Aelita wished she knew Yumi’s family better, that she could in some way know what to expect.

To everyone’s credit, the meal started with all in high spirits. Aelita had only gotten to have traditional Japanese food a handful of times in her life, and she was at least looking forward to that experience… if her stomach would settle down enough to eat.

… The dinner wasn’t as big a mess as Aelita feared it would be, but it wasn’t great either. The clone sucked with Chopsticks for one, and Aelita could only do so much to cover the fact that The clone didn’t know much about the people who were supposedly her family. It was only when the conversation landed on their friends that Aelita could relax a little. And it was at this moment, Aelita learned the clone was, perhaps, a little boy crazy. This would be fuel for Hiroki for weeks… And worse, what her parents would think…

This had to be only a week that it took to save Yumi. What would happen if it wasn't? ________

Aelita’s fingers are gripping the back of Jeremy’s seat tightly. So tightly that it was probably bad for her hands how tightly she was holding. William was asking Jeremy questions as he typed, ones that he was only answering in muttered words as he reluctantly tapped the enter key. The screen lit up as two scanners activated. Odd and Ulrich didn’t make it in time, and so they were forced to return to Earth empty handed, barely avoiding the destruction of Lyoko. But at least they made it home.

Aelita knew what she’d find when she slid down the ladder to the scanner room, but she had to check. (The first sign was that only two scanners were active, the third already sitting open and empty.) But seeing the center and left scanners open confirmed it anyway. There was Ulrich, with his fist balled up against the side of the scanner wall, and there was Odd, immediately sliding to the ground, hitting his head on the back of the scanner.

She had the feeling they already knew. And they would have no choice but to climb up to the main lab and hear it for themselves.

And hear it for themselves they did. With his hands balled against his cheeks, Jeremy makes the terrible awful announcement that he couldn’t bring Yumi back in. Couldn’t even find her on the network. William comforts Jeremy, pointing out he didn’t even get into the core room in a fit of annoyance. He could have done more. Ulrich sulks off to a private corner of the super calculator room, and Aelita slides down the wall now that she’s made it back up the ladder. Odd takes a seat next to her.“At least you were here in time. Ulrich and I didn’t even manage that.” And what a sight it was, when even Odd couldn’t manage to be cheery about it.

Lyoko is destroyed. The kids flee the factory, unable to stay. They can’t bear going back to school right now. At least the Hermitage was private. ________

“They seem like nice people!” Aelita bites the inside of her cheek, trying to not say a word as she takes a cross legged seat on the floor by Yumi’s giant Totoro plush, and the clone sits on Yumi’s- her? - bed. All splayed limbs and relaxation and Aelita couldn’t relate at all.

Dinner had been really difficult to sit through.

“You love them, that’s what you always told me.” Aelita said finally, though she doesn’t know how to even begin to put into words all of the fights she had heard second hand, and the misguided but true worry. Or how much Yumi had been struggling to balance all aspects of her life and how little this was going to help.

When they saved Yumi (they would. They wouldn’t ever leave one of their own behind.), she was going to have fun cleaning up the mess her clone left her. But she would have her friends to do it with. Aelita wasn’t going to leave her.

“I can see why.” The clone agreed. They just had to hang in there.

#code secret santa #code lyoko #kaula does writing

18 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 2 years ago

Text

do not chastise the dove (18) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you.

chapter summary: you begin your work.

word count: 2,926

warnings?: a shorter chapter, brief panic attack, honestly not a very good chapter but sets up for the last leg of the series, pet name (dove), not proofread

The press had a field day when they found out that you were going to Summer Twilights with Jake. It was almost as big of a deal as when they found out the two of you had foregone an official driver and that Jake had driven you himself. Jake ranted for at least an hour when he saw the headlines. (“It’s just ridiculous, dove! They might as well have reported that you sneezed and threw a tissue away! How can this seriously be considered news?”) You, however, were not surprised. Even in this day and age, open discussions about mental health were always…well, not welcomed at large. That’s not to say it didn’t bother you. Of course it did. In your opinion, the media should be focused on the transfer of power, on the well-anticipated trials for Harrow and Benjamin. But, of course, it was often the sillier things that received the most attention.

Still, you were not going to let the attention stop you from continuing to go to Summer Twilights with Jake. It did, however, mean that Layla attended with you to protect you from any potential threats, and that you had to start taking an official driver again. You hated it, but there were some battles you chose to lose if only to maintain your sanity. At least you still got to go. At least that wasn’t being taken away from you. So, you grit your teeth and powered forward. Everything would work out in the end.

You sat between William and Dirk in the circle. Emil had said that it was good to not always sit by Jake. Healing was a journey, and it was a journey you should take with the others. There is much to be learned from others who are struggling, too. That way, you don’t become codependent on others. You understood Emil’s point, but you did miss sitting beside your fiancé. Still, you focused on listening to the others share and be vulnerable with each other.

Being there made you feel better. Even though you didn’t share this time, it made you feel like things were going to be fine. Perhaps it was because of the vulnerability of it all. For the last several years, you had so few outlets to express yourself without fear of being punished for it. A life like that had left you with a fair amount of baggage. It was…a relief to be able to finally unpack it all. To be able to sort through it all, to acknowledge the pain it caused you, to just talk about things you were taught to keep hidden—it was everything you could have ever wanted. You could only hope that everyone would have an opportunity, have an outlet, like this.

Or…could you do something more?

When the meeting ended, you found yourself still glued to your seat. The idea, it had been something you had been considering ever since the idea of becoming Queen became closer to being a reality. After Jake brought you to Summer Twilights, it became a little firmer in its foundation. Now…It felt like it might actually be something you could bring into fruition.

“Is everything okay, dove? Do you need something?”

You looked up, jumping slightly as you realized Jake was kneeled in front of you, concern etched clearly on his face. “Sorry, was just lost in thought,” you said. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to get up.

“Good thoughts, or bad thoughts?” Jake asked.

“Complicated thoughts?” you said. “It could go either way, I think.”

Your attention was drawn away from Jake as you heard Emil’s footsteps head your way. You looked at him as he approached you. He stopped a few feet in front of you and waved his hand, motioning at one of the chairs beside you. “Is it alright if I sit with you?” he asked.

You nodded and watched as he took the chair, moving it so that he would be sitting across from you. Jake followed his lead, taking a chair on the other side of you and moving it to form a mini three-person circle.

“You look troubled,” Emil said. “Is it something you want to talk about?”

“I really enjoy coming here,” you started.

Emil smiled slightly. “I’m glad. I, and everyone here, like having you here. But I don’t imagine you look so troubled just for coming here.”

“It’s been so long since I had a place where I could talk about my feelings without being chastised for it,” you said. “I appreciate that I have this place to go, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about how not everyone has a place like this. I…As Queen, I have the opportunity to be the patron of organizations of my choice. I can give them funding, and amplify their ideals. I don’t…I don’t mean to impede on any plans you have for Summer Twilights, so I’ve been struggling to figure out how to ask this but…Would you like my patronage? So that you might be able to expand and bring in people who need a safe space like this?”

Emil’s jaw dropped for a moment before he started to compose himself. “What?”

“After everything I’ve been through, I’ve realized how little I had in terms of support. And now that I have it, I can’t believe I made it this far with next to nothing. I don’t want other people to have to experience that struggle. Being able to come here has been incredible, and I would like for these sorts of doors to be more open to the rest of the kingdom.” You paused. “If I’m overstepping, please let me know. I don’t want to step on any toes here, not when you’ve provided a space for me to come and speak without fear.”

“I know you don’t care for the formalities,” Emil said, “but, Your Majesty, it would be an honor to have your patronage.”

You let out a breath. “Really?”

“Being able to expand, being able to help more people, is all I ever could have wanted,” Emil said. “I thought it might have been a far-fetched dream, something that would take years to come to fruition if it ever did. Your support…It would mean everything to me. I think it would mean everything to everyone here.”

A smile started to stretch across your face. “Oh, I’m so excited! I…will try to hire a secretary as soon as possible, and reach out about more of the official things this will mean. Thank you, Emil. Thank you.”

You stood up, and Jake and Emil followed. You reached out, shaking Emil’s hand, before bidding farewell. Together, you and him walked across the room to where Layla stood, Jake’s hand resting on the small of your back.

“You’re incredible, dove,” Jake said.

“What did she do now?” Layla asked with a smile.

“She’s changing the world, that’s what’s she’s doing,” Jake said.

“Oh, stop it!” you said.

Jake shook his head, giving you a smile. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll never stop telling you how amazing you are, dove. Get used to it.”

“How is it finally being Queen?” Jake asked, kicking off his shoes as the two of you settled in your bedroom. After some reshuffling in the palace, you and Jake had finally been moved to the north wing. Your room now had a beautiful view of the gardens below. Sometimes, before you had to leave to attend to your duties, you found yourself standing in front of the window, watching the wind whip through the grounds, the plants bending to its will. “You haven’t spoke much about how everything has been affecting you.”

Jake came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. “It’s more than I thought. I knew that I would have many responsibilities, but I didn’t realize the full extent of it all. I’m still trying to get my head on straight, just trying to take it one day at a time.”

Jake hummed. He leaned, pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Want to rant about it?”

“No, no, that’s alright,” you said. You pulled away slightly, turning around so that you could face Jake. You couldn’t help the smile that started to curl across your face as you looked at him. God, how could you ever be so lucky? You reached up, caressing his face. His eyes fluttered shut. “I would rather talk about you, my love. How are you doing? I know none of this was what you signed up for. I know the attention has been…less than ideal.”

“Dove, you know that I don’t mind. None of us do,” Jake said.

“Not even when the press villainizes all of you?” you asked.

He paused, looking almost like he had been struck in the face. Your heart clenched at the look on his face. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. But, you felt like this was something that needed to be discussed. You didn’t want feelings to fester, to burrow deep inside, until it one day blew up in both your faces.

“It…does hurt,” Jake finally said. He shut his eyes, nuzzling his face into your hand. “I know their opinions don’t matter, that they’re only providing stories that provide attention, but it makes me feel like we could never be good enough for you.”

You dropped your hand so that you could hold both of Jake’s and gently tugged him toward the bed. You sat on the mattress, propping yourself up against the mountain of pillows. Jake laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. Combing your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, you urged him to continue.

“I want to say something, to make them see why you care for us just as much as we care for you,” he said, his voice slightly muffled against your shirt. “But I worry that we would say the wrong things, that it would become much worse. That they would find more reason to hate us for being with you.”

“I’ve wanted to do the same,” you admitted. “I don’t care when the press speaks badly of me. I’ve seen the highs and lows of it all for my entire life. I know you all haven’t had that same experience, and I want so badly to defend you from it all. But I also know that speaking out often gives them more ammunition. We would have to be so, so careful about what we said, because the media loves to pick up a word or two and twist them so far out of context that our intentions are lost. And yet…silence is just as bad. Soon, I worry the media will begin to berate us for never saying anything, for letting them continue this abhorrent behavior.”

Jake let out a sigh, burrowing his head further in your chest. The two of you stayed like that a long time, him cuddled up to you, you running your fingers through his hair. A word was not shared for a long few minutes. Neither of you really had anything else to add. You pressed a kiss to the top of Jake’s head.

“I…I think if we did speak out, I think we should give the one interview. Have it be pre-recorded, nothing live. I think Karen would be our best bet,” you said.

“Mm, that wouldn’t be the worst,” Jake mumbled.

“Let’s give it a few days thought, okay? We don’t need to rush into anything. We shouldn’t rush into anything,” you said.

“Okay,” Jake said.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

You clenched and unclenched your fists as the driver navigated the crowd that had gathered. This was going to be fine. It had to be fine. In front of you, Yelena shifted in her seat, her clothes squeaking against the leather. You looked up at her. She was already looking at you. She watched you the same way a child watches the fishes at an aquarium.

“Is everything alright, Yelena?” you asked, your voice tight. You were half-convinced your vocal cords would snap soon.

“I think I should be asking you that, no?” she said. She tilted her head, looking you up and down. “I haven’t ever seen you quite like this.”

You swallowed hard. You glanced at Layla, who was seated beside Yelena, watching you. “I think we jumped the gun on this.”

“Do you want to cancel?” Layla asked. “We still have time. You just have to give the word.”

“Her public image is fragile right now. Cancelling will not do her any favors,” Yelena said. “She may have the public opinion in her favor for now, but it won’t take much for it to sway the other way. We have to treat every situation with precaution.”

“Yelena’s right. We have to go on,” you said.

It was your first public outing without your fiancés by your side since you had become Queen. The two of you had agreed that you needed to do some things on your own, show your independence. Besides, if they came, the media would focus more on them than what you had to say. And this event…Well, you would say it was one of your most important ones. Every King or Queen offered their patronage to causes that mattered to them, and those causes would be announced at the start of their reign. Today, you would announce yours. The last thing you wanted was for those important causes to be overshadowed.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest.

Thump.. Thump. Thump.

Thump.Thump!Thump!

Thmp!Thmp!Thmp!

“Dove…Are you okay?” Layla asked.

You tried to speak, but your words caught in your throat, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, tears stinging in your eyes. Fuck, why was it so hard to breathe? It felt like you were breathing in through a straw. Every breath you took, it felt like your throat was constricting more and more.

Layla moved to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. She held you tight, squeezing, shushing you as you grew more and more panicked. “You’re okay, dove. Don’t worry about saying anything, okay? Just focus on your breathing. Okay? In, hold, out. In, hold, out. That’s good, dove. Keep that up, okay?” she said, rubbing your arm up and down.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say as your breathing steadied.

“Don’t apologize, dove. There’s a lot going on. Anyone else would have snapped a lot sooner,” she said. “You’re impossibly strong, dove. But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the weight of it all.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. Your heart started to steady back into its regular rhythm. A wave of guilt washed over you, fresh tears pricking in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to hold it together.”

“Y/N, if there’s anyone who’s allowed to lose it, it’s you,” Yelena said. She leaned over, placing a hand on your knee. “Losing it doesn’t mean you’re weak. Alright? Look at how far you’ve come. You needed a moment like this. You cannot bottle up your feelings. You have to let it all out.”

You mulled over her words, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” The car lurched to a stop, and your attention was drawn back to the crowd gathered outside. You swallowed hard, looking back at Layla. “Do you think I can do this?”

She squeezed your hand. “I know you can.”

You took a deep breath. “Then let’s do this.”

Layla gave you a smile as the car door opened. She stepped out first, clearing the way for you. You took another breath before sliding out of the car, painting on an almost perfect smile. You waved at the hoards of people, pausing to answer a few questions as you walked up to the building. Yelena and Layla walked on either side of you. You were grateful to have them by your side. You still worried you might find a way to embarrass yourself.

And yet, you got to the building without a hitch. You were ushered behind the stage that was set up, conferring with one of the event coordinators. In the main room, you could hear the people talking amongst themselves. You swallowed hard, thinking about the speech you were to give, thinking of the dinner that would follow, thinking of how you wished that your fiancés were with you. But you set those worries aside.

You had a job to do.

The event coordinator went on before you, announcing you to the crowd. A hush fell over them. You stepped onto the stage. Your heels clicked as you walked. Click. Click. Click. You made it to the podium. Your hands gripped the sides. You smiled to the crowd. You took a deep breath. You began—

“I am proud to announce my patronages for the duration of my reign.,” you said, hands clutching the edge of the podium. “These causes are near and dear to my heart, and it only makes sense for me to use the resources at my disposal to support them. Starting today, I will support education, art, animal shelters, and, perhaps the most important of them all: mental health services.”

And all was well.

#do not chastise the dove: a royal moon knight au #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x female reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x female reader #starrywrites #starryevermore

48 notes · View notes

icequeenlila · 1 year ago

Text

Sorry

Mental health went down the drain. Update's gonna take longer than promised. Sorry. Have some Aonung Spider beef in the meantime:

“How?”, Aonung finally broke the silence. “How can a body as small as yours, hold so much stupidity?” He sounded like he was torn between amusement and anger.

“It’s a gift.”

Aonung half turned towards him, his eyes full of disbelieve. “How did you manage to survive until now, with a foul mouth like this?”

Spider shrugged his shoulders. “Mostly, people are too shocked to respond. Makes running away pretty easy.”

When Aonung just continued to stare at him, Spider rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on”, he said. “Don’t act like you’re all innocent. You’re not any better than me!”

“He is my father!”, Aonung argued. “You are just some small sky people, who’s not even been around for that long. If I was chief- “

“If you were chief, I would’ve voluntarily stayed with the RDA.”

Aonung scrunched up his nose. “You mean the people who shot Neteyam?”

Spider’s mouth fell shut at that.

“Don’t take me too seriously”, he muttered, looking away from his friend. “I’m a skxawng. Happy?”

This time, Aonung was the one to roll his eyes, while turning around his Ilu, guiding it back towards the village. “Let’s say I’m glad about your self-reflection skills.”

Spider shot him an annoyed look. Not that Aonung could see it with his back turned towards Spider. He felt his friend’s shoulders stiffen again. They were both silent as they slid through the water, both lost in their own thoughts and worries.

Spider sent another silent prayer towards Eywa, asking her to keep Tuk and Tsireya safe, wherever they might be right now.

He still couldn’t believe that Payakan would do something like that.

Lo’ak had taken him to meet his spirit brother and Spider had considered the Tulkun a friend, as did Kiri, Tuk and the others. So, why would Payakan just kidnap the girls? It made no sense.

Maybe it was supposed to be joke? Probably not. Even if it was, Spider doubted that Neytiri and Jake would laugh about it. Neytiri most likely was already hunting down the Tulkun, bow stretched, arrow ready to shoot.

Spider really wouldn’t want to switch places with Payakan right now.

“Try to keep your head low for the next few days”, Aonung’s voice brought him back into the now.

“Huh?”

His friend exhaled through his nose, clearly annoyed. “Try to keep out of my father’s sight”, he repeated. “He is a kind man, but you really overstepped back there.” He shot him a sharp look over his shoulder. “My mother would have strangled you to death already.”

“Oh, yeah.” Spider shuddered as he envisioned the woman’s wrath. “I have no doubt in that. Na’vi woman are scarry.”

Aonung actually chuckled at that. “You just don’t seem to get along with them too well.”

“Whatever”, Spider muttered with another roll of his eyes, remembering an earlier thought of his. “What orders did your father speak about back there?”

If Aonung’s shoulders were stiff before, they turned into stone at that question.

Hah! Something was off! Spider knew it!

“It’s none of your concern”, Aonung answered after a pause of silence that lasted a tick too long.

“Oh, really?”, Spider asked. “Okay then. But just so you know.” He leaned to the side a bit so he could see Aonung’s profile. “Neteyam has grown suspicious of this, too.”

The reaction was immediate. Aonung turned to look at him, his eyes growing big for a moment, before frowning down at Spider. “What do you mean?”

Spider half grinned at him, taking a bit of joy in stressing out the boy. “I mean, that the hunters are leaving more often than usual lately and your father goes with them almost every time, despite him being Olo’eyktan, supposed to take care of things at the village.” He shrugged. “Every time Neteyam asks questions you start sweating and now you won’t tell me about those orders.”

Aonung’s frown grew deeper and deeper.

Spider was joking. He thought it was obvious that he was. But somehow his friend didn’t seem to pick up on that at all. It had been a joke to Spider. But it obviously wasn’t to Aonung.

Was there maybe something more to this? Was there actually something the boy tried to hide?

Spider was more than curious now.

“Like I said”, Aonung growled. “None of your business.”

“Like I said”, Spider mimicked him. “Okay. Just a lil weird that’s all.” And then he added something else, because he just had to actively seek out trouble no matter what. “I’m pretty sure Neteyam won’t think too much of it when I tell him later.”

The Ilu stopped abruptly, causing Spider to tip forward, losing his grip on Aonung and falling face first into the water.

First Olo’eyktan. Now his son. Spider just had a knack for pissing people off.

“The fuck, bro!”, Spider called when he resurfaced.

“I’m not your bro”, Aonung growled, a deep frown on his forehead. “And you will keep your skxawng mouth shut about this! Neteyam doesn’t need to worry any more than he already does!”

“I was joking!”, Spider called, splashing a hand full of water at the Metkaiyen. Not that the boy cared. “It’s not like we suspect you to keep some dark secret or something! No need to be such a bitch!”

He grabbed onto the Ilu’s fin, just in case the boy wanted to leave him outside here. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“I could just leave you here”, Aonung said as if reading his mind. “This way I could make sure you will keep your mouth shut.”

“Do you have a hit list or something?”, Spider called up at him, holding on a little tighter to the poor animal. “Dude, you need to chill!”

“What’s a hit list?” Aonung looked confused all of a sudden, clearly thrown off topic by Spider’s words.

“You know, a hit list”, Spider said, trying to pull himself up. The Ilu didn’t seem too happy about all the grabbing and threw him off again. “Would you help me?”

“What’s a hit list?” Aonung looked at him unimpressed, not moving a muscle, definitely not helping Spider up.

Spider rolled his eyes at the boy. “It’s a list you make inside your head, with all the people you want to kill on it.”

Aonung frowned at him again, but this time he looked more shocked than anything. “Why would I want to kill anyone?”

“I don’t know!”, Spider called. “Why would you leave Lo’ak outside the reef to die! Why would you threaten to do the same to me? Why won’t you get a joke?”

“Because you’re not funny!”

“Or maybe it’s because you’re stupid!”

Aonung glowered at him, flaring his nostrils. “I really wish I could just leave you here to drown.”

Spider shot him a big grin through his mask. He wasn’t worried in the slightest.

“Yeah, I know”, he said, still very self-assured. He grinned a little brighter, just to piss the other off. “But you can’t, because then Neteyam would be pretty pissed at you.”

Aonung looked about ready to jump and drown Spider with his own hands. Yes, Spider was really pushing it, but at least his friend was distracted from worrying about his sister for a while. Aonung could scream at him all he wanted, Spider didn’t care. Maybe his friend would lose some tension like that.

“You’re despicable”, Aonung growled, but at the same time reached out his hand, silently offering to help Spider up.

“And you’re such a sweetheart”, Spider retorted, a mocking grin on his lips, taking the boy’s hand. “The sweetest of them all.”

Aonung just rolled his eyes at him, pulling him up. Spider settled down behind him, his hands on his friend’s shoulders again. Still tense. But maybe a little less than before.

(I'm dissapointed myself. I hope you can understand. I shouldn't have promised smth I can't keep, I just got so excited about finishing the chapter. It still has some errors and I'm not ready to post it yet.)

(Anyway, hope you have a nice day.)

18 notes · View notes

awesomehoggirl · 7 months ago

Note

hi prim its raxz... checking in. whats going on in your life these days? i had my 17th birthday last week and im been starting to think seriously about what i want to do after i graduate... are you glad you moved away from home for uni? any general advice? i know what career i want which is the hard part i suppose. have something i drew while out for lunch today. cheers

HIIIIIII RAXZ <333 love the cute little drawing i have attached my own. i would say i am happy i moved a little further away bc it has allowed me to become more independent and really branch out and meet new people but there is a lot to consider... i think costs of travel are super important to think abt, my trip is only abt 3-4 hours and costs me under £20 each time which is very useful as a girl who loves to go home at every opportunity LOL. taking a gap year after u graduate if u arent sure where u wanna go/what exact degree u wanna pursue/if uni is for you is a good option u shouldnt rule out, it can be super good to have the extra time to work or research and i honestly wish id taken one lowkey. if u do decide to go straight away do not drop out in the first semester unless u are 100% sure it isnt for you… bc i almost did when my mental health was super bad and now im sooo glad i didnt LMAO. going to uni is a really tough change but it does kick you into a new stage of development and i have loved my experience so far (Apart from the past term which has been the worst few months of my life but that has nothing to do with uni) :3 also i would say 100% pick something you really enjoy, doesnt have to be tailored to ur ideal career (but that helps if u have it figured out already), i did that instead of picking something more practical and i genuinely love all my classes and essays so so much!! Sorry long post but if u have anymore questions feel free to send moar asks or dm yaaaay

2 notes · View notes

maddiviner · 2 years ago

Text

Years before I started this blog, I actually ran a little site about spiritwork in a chaos magic context. I started it in 2009, if I remember right. I was running around with DKMU on IRC. I had made several valiant attempt to connect with DKMU’s various egregores, but hadn’t had much luck. Still, the methods DKMU used interested me, even if their particular egregores didn’t seem to mesh.

The concept was workable, and I soon could apply some of their techniques to working with other spirits, including thoughtforms and (corporate) egregores. I was on break from school at the time, and wrote a lot about my spiritwork experiences for that site. I hope other people found it helpful, and some have said they did. It’s such a pity I deleted the entire thing.

The saddest part? There were other contributors to the site, but since it was my hosting and domain, etc, the site could not continue without me. At the time I didn’t think too much about it, but now I have a lot of regrets, not just because I wish I still had my articles. Looking back, I kind of pulled the rug out from under everyone with that - and then up and vanished, too. Most people were understanding when I told them it was a mental health thing (and, arguably, it was).

Spiritwork is, oddly enough, the part of the chaos paradigm that most resonates with me to this day. Unfortunately, I deleted it in 2013 in a panic. I knew that if my very online 4chan wizard “friends” found it, I’d get dragged. That particular bunch tended to turn their nose up at chaos magicians, who they derided as “edgelords” and “LARPers” who didn’t take magic seriously enough. Naturally, my buddies scoffed even more so at witchcraft.

During my time with these folks, I didn’t call myself a witch. At least, not in their presence. Witch (while a gender-neutral term these days) has a general feeeeemmmmaaallllee association historically. In those group chats and communities, I was one of only a handful of women sometimes, and often, the only one. A lot of these guys clearly believed women had two purposes in the occult: scrying, and sex magic, (if they’re a redhead to “embody Babalon,” all the better). I probably didn’t meet their criteria for any of that, so the general attitude was “shut up, nothing you say matters.”

Some people would treat me completely normally, only to snap and take it out on me when things got choppy. The funny thing? It was easy as fuck to realize that, in these spaces, I was facing a double standard. Other people in these online spaces didn’t judge each other in the same way they judged me. I figured it was just because I was deficient, far too sensitive, and bad at memorizing Aleister Crowley’s 777.

It took me years to realize that it might’ve, in fact, had something to do with my gender. If I remember right, I only started considering that possibility after telling my TTRPG storyteller about some of it? Once I factored in the “wait, some of these people likely do hate women” thing, my experience with Thelemites in cyberspace makes much more sense. For every Thelemite who struggles to find the wholesome tidbits in Crowley’s work and write off the bad parts as tricks, there’s at least ten or twelve who gravitate towards those bad parts. They glom onto Thelema specifically because of them.

I definitely regret getting rid of that chaos magic compendium site, and I’ve considered trying to find my old drafts to recreate it. If I do that, I might cross-post some of it here? At very least, I’d post a link to the site once it’s up. This site was (and likely will be, if I revive it) not a blog, but rather just a collection of articles. I think it could be really good to go over how I used to do things with spirits, to pinpoint how I’ve grown (or not).

Tl;dr missing my old site from over a decade ago…

#witchcraft #witchblr #magic #occult #witch #crowley #thelema #discourse #misogyny #Aleister crowley #chaos magic #DKMU #spiritwork

17 notes · View notes

robotslenderman · 2 years ago

Text

I might have posted about this already but I can't find the post.

Something my psych is working on with me is allowing me to express myself in non-verbal ways around my parents and desensitising myself to their inevitable "ew, Dusty's being weird again" microexpressions. We spent a couple of sessions talking about clothing, and letting me wear weird shit and learning to deal with the microexpressions, but decided it wouldn't work bc buying a new wardrobe in my country is expensive as shit.

But just after our last session I realised that there was something I could do that was similiar: paint my room a colour I wanted! As a child I always wanted it to be purple but my parents never let me. At best I'd get this pathetic pastel colour. Ew. No real purple, no royal purple, which is my favourite shade. Generally I got stupid boring pale colours. When I repainted my room in my early 20s I didn't even consider going for the purple my parents always hated, I went for an off-white that wouldn't clash with any of my prints... but there was the slightest purple tinge to it.

So Sunday I went to Bunnings and got a bunch of purple colour cards (I think they're called paint chips in the US? The blocks of cardboard that are as close as possible to the actual paint colour) but I also picked up a couple of shades of another colour. This colour is also bright and bold, none of that washed out crap, and complements the other features of my room well so even if I decided purple didn't work it was still a nice, bright colour that had some fucking personality. Incidentally, it's the favourite colour of a queer neurodivergent coworker of mine who I don't speak to on a personal level, but am on very good terms with, and she supported me through a sexual harassment issue that spooked me so much I almost noped out of that job before I'd even consider reporting it. She helped make me feel safe enough to report it, encouraged me to do so, and was there every step of the way.

...

Monday she didn't come to work. Last couple of weeks she'd been going home early some days so when one of the bosses (I have two, it's complicated) said she was sick all week I thought, okay, she's clearly Going Through Some Stuff and needs to take a mental health week, she mentioned she's had a history of being under a psychiatric hold before, she's been showing warning signs , she'll feel better after she's had some time off, it's just a preventative thing, she'll be okay.

Then yesterday there was a meeting and grandboss said she was in hospital. And I'm thinking oh shit oh shit it's clearly really bad but at least she got help before --

aaaaaand then he says there was an "incident" that landed her in the hospital and klaxons are fully blaring.

They kept things no more specific than that, for all the coworkers know she got stabbed or something, but then my

stupid

fucking

manager

decided that now was a GREAT TIME to start talking about the importance of taking mental health seriously and as well meaning as she genuinely was clearly did not spend TWO SECONDS TO THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS OF DISCUSSING MENTAL HEALTH WHEN WE'VE JUST BEEN TOLD THAT A COWORKER IS IN HOSPITAL FOR UNDISCLOSED REASONS, YOU COULD HAVE LITERALLY TALKED ABOUT THIS AT ANY OTHER TIME BUT NO YOU HAD TO DO IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW DIDN'T YOU?!?!!!!

so now there's no fucking way my coworkers didn't rub two fucking braincells together and come to the obvious fucking conclusion that my coworker tried to fucking kill herself and has psychiatric issues, THANKS YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

The grandboss was a witness but I sat on it for a couple of hours thinking, if I'd just tried to kill myself and my boss strongly implied that it happened to my coworkers, what would I want my coworkers to do about it and decided that the answer to that was "raise hell" and then emailed my grandboss going "so hey that thing boss said during the meeting that you saw? WHAT THE FUCK, THAT WAS NOT OKAY????" but like, professionally, and also somewhat meekly because "raise hell" is something I'm still practicing and I barely have a spine right now so I considered it a victory that I said anything at all and wouldn't allow myself to not say something so I compromised by basically being like "I'll trust your judgment on this if I'm overreacting" (which I am already kicking myself about)

He did not reply that day, or for the first three hours of my shift which I spent feeling completely fucking unhinged because my brain had decided to give me a delayed reaction to yesterday's news and on the brink of a total fucking meltdown, especially because I was in sensory hell as the phones would not stop ringing and I had two urgent issues to deal with that took far too fucking long to deal with do you know how fucking pants-shitting it is to get technical issues on a study that involves someone in critical condition and every single IT person you ring about it is like "WELL THAT SURE IS A PROBLEM YOU HAVE, GOOD LUCK LOL" and then it takes two hours to fix bc the only guy who will actually fucking help you just dips halfway into giving you support bc he has a meeting???!? WHAT PART OF URGENT BRAIN SCAN DO THEY NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND?????

THE MEDICAL SYSTEM, LADIES AND GENTLEFOLK, IS RUN ON DUCT TAPE AND A PRAYER AND RELIES ON A WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE WHO DO NOT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU EVEN WHEN YOU ARE ACTIVELY DYING

anyway between several hours of that and feeling the delayed reaction to yesterday's news start kicking in I was like

youtube

I was the most senior person in the office today (the fuck????) so my coworkers were asking for my help every five seconds on top of the sensory overload, boss nagging me because I dropped a single ball out of all the stuff I had in the air (please excuse me if I didn't look at a chatroom while I was FRANTICALLY REFRESHING FOR TWO HOURS WAITING FOR THAT BRAIN SCAN TO COME IN. YOU KNOW, THE ONE THAT WAS A MEDICAL EMERGENCY???), delayed freakout and this technical issue bullshit and while I love it when my coworkers ask for help today I was not in a good place AT ALL to cope with that so

I just fucking left.

I went home told boss "nope I can't cope with this, I'm taking the rest of today off", then continued to have a meltdown into the afternoon so asked if she was comfortable with me taking the week off (bc all my coworkers must be p damn upset with what happened to my hospitalised coworker too so I can't pretend I'm the only one affected). she said yes but gave me a small bit of good news that coworker isn't as bad off as I thought, but that still doesn't mean much because it takes a LOT to get a psychiatric hold.

Then I came home and stress cleaned and stress painted. and then got distracted briefly when my mother got a tick and I had to go out and buy some different tweezers because normal flat tweezers are useless for ticks and do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to yank those fuckers out they are stronger than fucking Hercules

anyway I'm still neurotic and off my fucking rocker but at least I've made cleaning progress and painted some bits of the wall with the paint samples.

#cw suicide #personal #depression #negative #work #Dusty talks #Dusty is about to lose her fucking shit #Youtube #also by the title I meant posted about the painting #the rest of it is new tho #this year's been shit

18 notes · View notes

whitewolfstracks · 3 days ago

Text

Okay, so new updates, it's just a freaking trainwreck.

tl;dr: not receiving medical help, without income, mental health decompensated

After the rheumatology appointment, we went straight to my GP and made it before she was out of office for the day. However, she didn't invite us in before the end of her shift, and when she exited, she told us she couldn't treat me anymore.

So, she made the nurse to make an appointment for me for today, which was already stressful af, three medical appointments in the row, but I needed immediate medical attention, so I agreed and kept it.

However, today, I learned that my doctor isn't in the office on Fridays, there's only a deputy, and she told me she can't make any medical decisions about progressing with my treatment further. Which makes me feel like I wasted my time going there, and it also makes me feel weird because she's there every Friday and my doctor knows it.

She sent me to get an X-ray of my knees at least, because they are my main issue and she couldn't believe it wasn't done before, which I agree with. Idk why they focused on my hand in the rheumatology when my main issue is that I can't walk.

I could go there immediately in the same building, so it wasn't a completely wasted trip, at least. Even though I doubt they will find anything since the hands were also fine

I have an appointment set up with my doctor for the next week. And I worry she won't take me seriously exactly like my previous doctor did. A lot of tests, everything fine, nothing seemingly wrong. My previous doctor came to the conclusion that I'm just a hypochondriac.

I'm tired of being in pain daily, constantly, and nobody believes me. Now it's another week for just an appointment with the GP, then setting up appointments for more tests, which will also take time. So, more waiting, no answers, more pain. And I don't have the energy anymore to endure it.

The pain's been getting worse for a year, and the exhaustion has been lasting for two years now. I'm in a really bad place mentally too because of that. I'm considering another hospitalisation, but the first one was traumatising for me and set my progress months back, so idk if it would be helpful.

Also, when I was bording public transport I found that I don't have my payment card. I managed to set up a virtual one, and luckily, I didn't meet a ticket inspector in the meantime. But I blocked the card and requested a new one only to find it in my yesterday's coat pocket when I got home, and the request for a new card can't be cancelled anymore. Just my luck.

The fee for a new card is about 10$, which doesn't sound like much, but I have no income this month. I only live on state benefits that barely cover my rent, I need to get food from food banks. It will take three more months to receive disability pension, which will be the lowest one, so that doesn't even cover my rent. And I obviously can't work in this condition.

I'm desperate at this point tbh...

Sorry, for the lack of therianthropy posts, I thought my life couldn't get any worse, but alas.

Update on my health issues:

The gynaecology exam revealed that I have quite a large cyst on one of my ovaries. Best case scenario, it's folicular, and it's just messing with my hormones, worst case, it's endometriosis. Anyway it will in all likelihood need to be operated.

The rheumatology appointment revealed that my blood tests are completely clean. No infection, no inflamation, no autoimmune. The x-rays were also completely fine. Which is good news on one hand, on the other it means more tests, more waiting, more time spent in constat pain unable to do almost anything.

I can't even go shopping and ordering delivery is expensive, so I can't afford to do it often. I can't even pick up my post because they leave it at the post office. I can't draw because I can't tolerate holding a pen. I can only read, watch something, or sit on the balcony when it's almost freezing here now.

What a life.

#disabled #chronic pain #cw doctors #cw medical #chronic exhaustion #poverty #cw trauma mention #cw hospital #actually mentally ill #food bank

1 note · View note

bookish-whore · 2 years ago

Text

Falling Part IX

Azriel x Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: Discussions/Allusions to SA, Self-Deprecating Thoughts, Lots of Cursing.

A/N: Hello Lovelies! Thank you all for your patience with this chapter it has been a crazy two weeks for me. Considering we are on Chapter 9 now I can safely say that this fic will be a bit longer than the 10 chapters I initially anticipated (oops). Thank you all for your continued support on this story and as always, my requests are open and I am slowly making my way through them!

My Masterlist -> Here

Falling Masterlist -> Here

--------------------------------------------------

I was on the mend.

Since arriving back in the Day Court, Helion put me on a strict regimen, he was taking my recovery very seriously. I had a daily routine now, granted it had only been a few days, but Helion said that a establishing a routine would be good for me to have. He told me that knowing what’s going to happen throughout my day would decrease any anxiety and keep me from panicking and having any other episodes. So far, he has been right. I haven’t had any panic attacks since waking up that initial time. He also said that fresh air and sunlight can do wonders for my physical body, and for my mental health, which is why I was currently making my way downstairs to meet Lucien for our daily walk through the gardens.

I saw Lucien pacing at the foot of the steps, as he had done since we began these walkabouts.

“Good morning Vanserra” I said, the male halted his movements when he heard my voice

“Good morning my dearest y/n” he said, extending his arm to me with a smile. I hooked my arm under his and together we made our way outside.

We walked for a while in comfortable silence, Lucien knew how much I loved the gardens here. They were full of such vibrant colors and such a vast array of flowers it was like I was in a different world; it was like a brief escape from all of it.

I led us to one of the stone benches placed throughout the space, it was my favorite spot in the garden. There was a clear view of the pond, sparkling in the sunlight and where we sat, we were under a canopy of wisteria. I enjoyed the sweet, floral, and slightly musky scent as it wafted through the gentle breeze. Lucien was the one to break the silence.

“Are you ready for the big reunion?”

I wrung my hands in my lap “Not really” I said looking down at my hands

“Why is that?” he asked turning his head towards me to meet my gaze

“Well, if I’m being honest, I feel nervous. I know it’s just Feyre and Nesta and I am so grateful you wrote to them, but I’m worried they will see me like- like I’m damaged or broken. That they will somehow think of me differently. Think of me as- as weak after what happened.”

“They would never see you as weak, or broken, or damaged. Not after what they have been through.” He took my hand in his “and regardless of what anyone thinks you are strong, one of the strongest people I know. What happened to you wasn’t because of anything you did, or didn’t do, and I know you are trying to cope by pushing people away but we- the people who love you- aren’t going anywhere.”

I nod my head “I know” I say, just loud enough for him to hear

“Now, come on” he jerks his head over his shoulder “lets finish at the pond I know how much you love feeding the ducks”

I flash a smile at him, and we make our way toward the pond. I can’t help but feel a sense of calm about the big visit later. Lucien’s words had managed to put my mind at ease.

--------------------------------------------------

I took my time getting ready for this meeting.

I had an extra-long soak in the bath, until my fingers were wrinkled, and the water had become tepid. Once getting out I put on an outfit I felt comfortable in, which happened to be an oversized cream sweater that hung to my mid-thigh, dark leggings, and thick wool socks. After getting dressed I sat at my vanity to fix my hair, I decided to put it in a simple braid to keep it out of my way but as I looked in the mirror, my eyes were drawn to the faint circle of purple, black and blue around my neck. As I stared at the markings I began to reconsider.

I brought my hand up to graze my fingers across the lingering bruises, all at different stages of healing but still visible were anyone to look at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious at the idea of my friends seeing the evidence of that night. I could feel the panic rising and remembered the breathing exercises Helion taught me and began to ground myself, mostly by reminding myself that I was here in the Day Court, that I was safe, that what happened was over. After a few minutes I regained my composure and stood. I wouldn’t let that male take anything else from me, I wasn’t going to cower from the bruises or the scars that I carried with me. With a final deep breath, I made my way downstairs to meet my friends.

I opened the double doors and entered the room I had picked for this meeting. I had chosen an intimate library with tall shelves lining two of the walls, the other wall housed a massive ornate fireplace, and the final wall was floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rose gardens. It also had a comfortable sitting area with two long couches, two large armchairs and a table in the center, which was perfect for tea and cakes which Helion insisted we have, something about sugar being calming for the nerves. I didn’t dare argue.

I took up my seat in one of the armchairs, facing the doors when a soft knock sounded. I shouted for the visitor to enter to find it was just Helaena, one of the housekeepers, bringing the tea and desserts for me and my guests. Once she was finished, she promptly left, closing the doors behind her and I was once again alone. I looked at the clock atop the mantle on the fireplace and realized my guests would be arriving any minute, the thought had me picking at my cuticles as I did when I was nervous.

I found some comfort in the knowledge that Lucien would be there, I had asked him this morning if he would stay for the reunion, to intervene if he saw it was too much for me, and like the good male he is he agreed without complaint. However, I was still nervous to see the others. I know that Lucien was right this morning when he said they would understand but so much has happened since we last spoke that it seems like another lifetime. I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard faint voices down the hall. They were here.

I stood from my seat, wiping my palms on my thighs to get rid of the sweat that had accumulated in my anticipation of their arrival. A soft knock sounded.

“Come in” I shouted, my voice cracking at my choice of volume. The double doors swung open and there they were. We all stood frozen, just staring at each other.

I locked eyes with Feyre first, she was smiling at me, a faint flicker of silver lining her blue-grey eyes. Knowing her, they were tears of relief, tears of happiness. My gaze shifted to her right to find Nesta with her usual smirk that never gave away her true emotions, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. They were both looking at me as they always had.

And finally, I shifted my gaze to the other female who had accompanied them.

I immediately recognized the auburn hair, sparkling teal blue eyes, and warm smile. I had to fight the tears from spilling because Gwyn had come. Gwyn who had only begun leaving the House of Wind a few months ago – and had only gone so far as Rita’s – had made the long journey to a new place to be here for me. My knees threatened to buckle under me, and I immediately crossed the room pulling all three of them into a bone crushing hug. I couldn’t stop the swell of emotion as we stood there, simply holding each other.

--------------------------------------------------

After what felt like hours spent in a tight embrace, We finally took our seats around the table; Lucien chose to sit across the room to give the impression of privacy. We sat silently, pouring tea, and rationing out cookies and cakes from the assortment that had been brought in. After everyone was served, I decided to initiate the conversation.

I cleared my throat “I feel like- like I owe you an explanation for why I left the way I did”

Feyre interjected “Y/n, there is no need for that”

“I know that” I say flashing Feyre a small smile “but I’m sure you were worried sick at the fact that I just vanished, that I only left that note. I know that I shouldn’t have taken my anger at Azriel out on you guys and for that I’m sorry”

“After what happened” Nesta took a sip of her tea before continuing “and after what he said, I don’t blame you y/n. In fact, I let him know exactly what I thought about his actions the other night”

“What is she talking about?” I asked looking between Feyre and Nesta for any indication of what had happened between them.

“Well, after you left, we all had dinner at the House of Wind and your whereabouts were a point of conversation” Feyre said “Tensions were running high and after a suggestion that you be brought back to the Night Court Azriel made his opinion known about our plan to visit…Nesta made her opinions on his behavior quite clear.”

“What could he possibly have to say on the matter?” I asked

“That Feyre and I shouldn’t come; he made a comment to that extent…but enough about him” Nesta said “We are here for you”

Feyre and Gwyn nodded at that as the attention shifted back to me.

“How has it been here?” Gwyn asked gently taking a bite of lemon cake.

“Lucien and Helion have been amazing. I mean they rarely leave me alone, not that I particularly want to be alone right now, but they have treated me so well.” I paused a moment before I could continue “but even though they’ve been nothing but accommodating. I still have this feeling…just this overwhelming feeling of nothing, its like an endless pool of numbness. I can plaster a smile on my face, and laugh, and act normal but it’s not really how I feel.”

The three females all nodded in understanding.

“And I am terrified that this feeling is all I am ever going to feel again. Like, that night has irrevocably changed something in me. Changed who I am, how I see the world.” I wiped a tear that cascaded down my cheek “and I don’t want it to, I don’t want to give that male any more than he’s already taken but I don’t know how to get back to who I was before.” I dropped my head into my hands as the tears began to fall.

Before I could register what was happening, the three of them were at my side. Feyre on my left, rubbing comforting circles along on my back as I cried. Nesta on my right holding my arm as she tucked stray strands of hair behind my ear and Gwyn sat in front of me, her hands cupping my face while her forehead rested against mine.

Nesta was the first to speak after my admission. “Do you remember that day all those months ago after you first saw Azriel and Elain together?”

I wiped my nose on my sleeve, nodding

“Do you remember what I told you then?” I nodded again looking directly at her. I thought back to that morning, the words repeating themselves in my head

“What did I tell you?” she gently prodded

“You said” I took a shaky inhale “I can’t tell you when…or how; but it will get better. That I will get through it, as long as I am willing to face it, and embrace it, and walk through it. That I need to push through my pain to come out on the other side.”

“That’s right” Nesta said “I would tell you the same thing now y/n. You cannot change your circumstances, nor can you fix the past. All you can do is continue to move forward.”

Gwyn spoke then “Nesta is right, healing isn’t linear, and some days will be worse than others, but you aren’t alone in this you never have been, and you never will be.”

I nodded my head in recognition of what she said but went silent as I heard a faint commotion in the hall and the familiar scent wafted into the room and I froze.

...night-chilled mist and cedar.

Azriel was here.

As quickly as the thought crossed my mind, the double doors opened and there he was. I couldn’t help but look him over, he was wearing his fighting leathers, his siphons giving off their usual cobalt glow and his wings flared behind him. His hazel eyes burned into me as he stalked his way across the room.

Lucien stood first intercepting the male by placing a hand on his shoulder, halting him from moving any closer.

“Back off Vanserra” Azriel barked under his breath.

“Not a chance Shadowsinger” Lucien said, pushing Azriel back towards the door. Lucien jerked his head and a fae guard approached taking hold of Azriel’s other arm, helping Lucien haul him out.

“I just need to talk to her” Azriel said, his voice raised as he fought the two males restraining him “please y/n, just- just give me five minutes- please” the shadowsinger pleaded as the males hauled him away.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough” Lucien snapped “haven’t you hurt her enough?” he growled into his ear.

“Lucien” I said softly, the male stilled at my voice “it’s alright, I’ll talk to him”

I could practically feel Azriel’s sigh of relief, but I pushed it out of my mind because I wasn’t doing this for him.

No, this was for me.

I was taking my friends’ advice and confronting my pain, Azriel being only one of my problems right now but I felt that he was the one I could face, at least the one I was most ready to face.

I made my way through the palace to my bedroom, I wanted to be far away from prying fae ears. I could feel the tension rolling off Azriel as he followed silently behind me. Once arriving at the door, I paused a moment taking a deep breath before turning the knob and gesturing Azriel to enter first. He does so silently, tucking his wings in behind him as he passes me. I step in after him closing the door behind me with a soft -click-

I lean my forehead against the door before turning to face Azriel to find that he is already staring intensely at me, his hazel eyes boring into me as he waits for me to speak first. I can’t help but notice how they flick down to the faint bruising still visible on my neck. I clear my throat, which draws his attention back up to my eyes.

“You wanted to speak to me” I say, surprised at how strong my voice sounds “so speak”

He clears his throat “I- I do want to talk about other things with you, but first I just need to know, how you are or rather how you’ve been”

“How do you think I am Azriel?”

“I know that was probably a stupid question, but y/n I was worried about you. I have been worried sick about you. so much so that I haven’t been able to sleep, or eat, or-or think with you gone and after what happened I just-”

“That must have been hard on you” I snap

He goes silent. Turning around to face the large floor to ceiling windows that covered one wall of my quarters. I make my way closer to him, sitting on one of the couches in a lounge area that faces the fireplace.

“It must have been hard to continue living your life as you had been for months” I say, the rage slowly building as I think to all the conversations we had, conversations where he knew about the bond and told me about how he had fantasized since childhood about having a mate, how he thought he was unworthy and undeserving of one when he knew. When he knew that his mate was sitting across from him.

He turns around to face me “Y/n, I know that’s how it seems but-”

“I’m not finished yet” I interrupt “it must have been so difficult, to know about the mating bond and sit back and live your life while I was suffering. Do you even know what it was like? To watch you and Elain together, to know you shared a bed, to know you were in love. While I was practically torturing myself?”

I could see the tension building in him as his jaw clenched “Don’t put all of this on me y/n. You knew about the bond too, and I don’t recall you making any public declarations. I didn’t see you make an effort to tell me about the bond either.”

“I was going to” I practically shouted “on the winter solstice. At the party, I told Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, and the entire Inner Circle about my plan, that you needed to know to make an informed decision about what to do with your life, regardless of the outcome”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “And do you remember what you did that night Azriel? Do you?” I asked. He made his way across the room, sitting on a chair opposite of me, bringing his hands to ruffle through his hair. I could’ve sworn he cursed under his breath. His silence only encouraged me to continue.

“You got engaged. You proposed to Elain, and I had to watch, Lucien had to watch.” I wiped a tear that fell at the memory of that night. “I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell you so many fucking times Azriel but how could I? You seemed so happy and all I would do is ruin that, ruin a choice that you made. A choice that Elain made, and I had made my peace with it. That you chose her, and the bond wouldn’t change anything because it didn’t. You knew the whole time. The whole fucking time and you clearly didn’t want it”

“I fucked up y/n I know that now, but you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you”

“You know a few months ago I might have believed that. I used to think that you would never hurt me Azriel, from the moment the bond snapped into place for me I had this idea in my head about who you were and- and I was wrong because I trusted you, I got to know you and I started to have feelings for you”

I couldn’t help the tears that lined my eyes as it all came pouring out of me. “But you- you betrayed me, and you have turned into someone I don’t recognize”

“I know that I fucked up y/n, I know that but if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. please just- just give me a chance”

“Fine, here’s your chance. Why did you choose that moment to tell me about the bond? In that place after I was attacked”

“Y/n…” he began “Do we really have to talk about that”

“Don’t treat me like I am this fragile, broken female. I can handle it. I have been handling it. So either answer my question, or get out”

“Fine…I- I didn’t choose that moment, it just came out. I was so panicked and worried about you. that night…I felt you get hurt and I don’t know, when I saw you and when I smelt your blood, I was just so relieved you were alive. I didn’t have a filter on my emotions, and they got the best of me”

I nodded “Did you ever think about telling me, that you knew that the bond was there?” I said softly

“y/n” he says like a warning

“Don’t y/n me Azriel. Did you consider it or not, it’s a simple question”

“Yes” he says desperately “of course I did, but I decided against it”

“Why?” I asked

“Why?” he repeated, his voice sounding confused.

“Yes Azriel, I had a good reason not to tell you. What reason did you have not to tell me?”

“I thought- I don’t know I convinced myself that you were better off. I thought that it was too dangerous for you to be bonded to me for life and that I was protecting you”

“That’s bullshit” I quip

“That’s the truth” he shouts back at me

“It’s an excuse, it was too much for me, but Elain could handle being married to you. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

“FINE” he yells pinching the bridge of his nose as he finally lets his guard down.

“I was in love with Elain, and I wanted to be with her. I didn’t want to hurt anyone okay…I really didn’t and I hoped deep down that you didn’t know. I convinced myself that you had no idea and that all the signs that you did were in my head. I didn’t want to have feelings for you, I didn’t want to acknowledge it.” He took a deep breath “but then you were attacked, and I felt like a complete asshole because maybe if I hadn’t pushed you away then you wouldn’t have almost died. If I was with you, maybe that male wouldn’t have dared touch you and…the more I thought about it the more I realized I was in the wrong. Everyone fucking knew already, and here I was playing fucking house with Elain.”

I wiped away the tears that had involuntarily fallen during his confession.

“And in the end Elain is the one that ended things, because I was still too much of a coward to admit that I was developing feelings for you. and before you say it’s out of pity or a feeling of duty, I was developing feelings for you long before that night.”

“Then tell me something Az” I say quietly

“Anything” he says, his eyes meeting mine. I can see the desperation within them.

“If she hadn’t ended the engagement. Would you have married her?”

His face fell, his body going rigid at my ask. That seemed like answer enough to me. I nodded in acceptance and stood going to leave the room. He reacted quickly, running in front of me and dropping to his knees, tears freely falling down his face.

“Please don’t go y/n” he begged “Not like this please just- fuck I know how it seems but I have been honest, doesn’t that count for something? I know- I know I hurt you and I hurt Elain but If you just give me a chance, I can fix this, I can fix us.”

“I can’t Az” I said, my own tears falling in tandem with his “maybe someday I can forgive you and we can move past this, but not right now” I made my way to the door, reaching for the knob to leave when his voice halted me.

“I’m not giving up y/n” he said “I promise you; I don’t care how long it takes. Even if it takes an eternity, I am not giving up on this.”

I didn’t respond. I simply opened the door and walked back to the library, leaving him kneeling on the floor.

Next Chapter-> (Coming Soon)

--------------------------------------------------

{Taglist is Temporarily Closed I'm going to be updating it and changing some things around here soon}

--------------------------------------------------

@moonfawnx @we-were-beautiful @96jnie @frgman-sins @fromdelos @qtljs @goldentournesol @ruler-of-hades @mrs-azriel @feyretopia @starlit-terror @daily-dose-of-sass @mulansaucey @owllover123 @redbleedingrose @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @luna-1-3-5 @marigold-morelli @topaz125 @aelinismyqueen @elizarikaallen @clueless-gold @starrstrucked @em---r @snoopythemaincoon @satellitesunshine @bankerfrog @strawbwebbie @morks-watermelon @kristalhi @lolabell0556 @intrxde @aubreylovesthegames @xxoverthinkerxx @caosfanblr @mis-lil-red @haswellington @wolfyland07 @answer-the-sirens @kaz-2y567 @marssssaturn @judig92 @esposadomd @violet-shadows @meghan52300 @biblophilefox82 @issybee0611 @writingsbychlo @katherinereid @baarishkiboond @hernameispia @positivewitch @dragonqueeneliza

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #helion x reader #feyre archeron #gwyneth berdara #nesta archeron #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #bookish-whore #falling

443 notes · View notes

gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Addidentally Injuring Their S/o

Part Two Here

YT Video Here (thanks @vanillaicedlatte-yt)

Genre: a n g s t

Type: Drabble/ Headcannons

Summary: in the heat of an arguement, after a battle, etc., they activate their quirk and Y/n somewhat permanently.

Warnings: gore, blood, fighting/ cursing, crying, burns, toxic relationships, 290 spoilers, endeavor

Other: This was meant to come out yesterday, but shitty mental health got in the way, so yeet. Also, I’m sorry these get worse and worse as they progress, that’s usually how things go for me. This was also inspired by a Tik Tok that I can’t find where Shigaraki accidentally dusts y/n who’s trying to comfort him. It was a Cosplay, if anyone can find it please let me know so I can link it and credit the creator.

Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Bakugou, Todoroki

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist)

Tomura Shigaraki

It had started as a great day, a perfect day even. Everyone was listening to him, the league was getting news coverage, people were afraid.

Everything was too perfect.

Something was going to go wrong, he was sure of it.

He hated the way everyone was laughing and joking together, Toga helping Magne do her nails, Spinner playing video games with Twice backstage, and you were chatting with Dabi and Compress about the league’s next moves.

Kuroguri was off doing something or other, and he’d mentioned another ‘follower of All For One.’

But something felt off.

And of course you would notice him.

You were hiding at an abandoned theatre, and he was sitting on the edge of the stage, staring out at the empty audience.

You were with Dabi and Compress in the wings, and glanced away from them towards your boyfriend.

He seemed stressed, scratching at his neck vigorously. You sighed, standing up and heading over to him, sitting beside him.

You placed your hand on top of his spare hand, offering him a soft smile.’

“Hey, baby~” you cooed. “How’s my boyfriend doing?”

He grumbled, yanking his hand away from you. Your theory was correct, he was stressed about something.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not you. You always tried to comfort him and convince him everything was ‘okay’ even when it wasn’t.

“Go away.” He growled. “I’m trying to think.”

“Thinking about what?” You asked, scooching closer to him.

“None of your fucking business!” He snapped at you, and you flinched away from him.

“Tomura, I was just trying to help-“ you frowned at him. He could be immature and bratty at times he’s, but he usually made sure not to get that way with you.

“I don’t give a shit! I don’t need your damn help!” He stood up, marching over to the wings to head backstage. You followed suit.

Compress and Dabi quickly rushed off the stage when they saw Shigaraki heading towards them. Dabi stopped for a moment next to you, looking at you.

“Good luck with him.” He said, jerking his head towards Shigaraki. You shrugged at him.

Shigaraki overheard Dabi’s notion, anger and distress intensifying. Good luck? Good luck?! What the hell was wrong with him?

Dabi and Compres joined Toga and Magne in the red velvet chairs, Compress requesting that he gets his nails done in orange and black when she finished with Magne’s.

Shigaraki pushed aside the large heavy curtains blocking his way backstage, finding Spinner and Twice huddled near a small TV, an old PvP game loading onscreen

They both looked over their shoulders, staring up at their boss. You quickly darted backstage, crouching next to the ‘gamer boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis’ as they had nicknamed themselves.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to them. “He’s in a bit of a mood. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Did he hear you correctly?

A mood?

You’ll ‘take care of it?’

Of it?

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Say that again, to my fuckung face!” Shigaraki screamed at you. “Tell me I’m just ‘iN a MoOd’ again!!”

You turned to him, eyes wide and scared.

“I’m sorry, Tomura, I didn’t mean it like that- I just didn’t want our friends to worry!”

“They aren’t our fucking friends! They just work for us- they work for me!” He corrected himself.

You stood up, flicking your wrist to motion for Twice and Spinner to leave. They quickly turned off their game and rushed away.

“You might not consider them our friends, but they’re certainly my friends. And I won’t let you scare my friends.” You stood your ground, taking a step towards him.

He scoffed, turning around and marching back onstage. You sighed, following after him, again.

“Please, Tomura talk to me. I’m your partner I want to help you!” You exclaimed. “You’re worrying me, please!”

“Well I don’t want to fucking talk!” He shouted, “and I don’t have to!”

“Please, Tenko!”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

Red.

He saw red.

His hand flew away from him before he could stop himself, a target missile. It’s destination? Your face.

You lifted your hands instinctively, and he grabbed your wrist, fingers curling around your skin.

In that moment, all he felt was relief. Thank fucking god you’d lifted your arms. It was the one thing that has saved you from him.

You screamed, pain shooting up through you from your arm. Your skin peeled, falling away in tiny fragments of dust.

The dust fell around his fingers, your hand and wrist were completely gone now.

You felt someone pull you backwards, and you saw a glint of silver as Toga quickly severed your arm, blood spilling onto the floor of the stage where the pile of dust that used to be your arm lay.

You fell to your knees, screaming, reaching up and clutching at your elbow- the point of separation- desperately, trying to will your arm back into existence.

“TOMURA!” You shrieked, tears falling down your cheeks. “TOMURA! FIX IT!!”

It was hopeless, you knew there was no way for him to un-dust you. You fell forward, forehead pressed against the floor.

Shigaraki took a step back, glancing at his hand. There were a few speckles of dust resting on his palm. His breath quickened, eyes widening as he cupped his other hand over his mouth.

He stared down at you, Blood staining your shirt as you screamed and cried.

It must have hurt.

He remembered the promise he’d made after you’d started dating, when he’d protected you from some assholes trying to mug you.

“I promise you, I’m going to protect you. Nothing, no one, will lay a hand on you ever again.”

It was a promised meant against anyone who posed a threat to you.

He never meant to become a threat himself.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

Some days were always going to be better than others, that’s simply how it works when you’re recovering from trauma.

Today was one of the bad days.

He’d woken up with a thick, heavy, dark feeling in his chest.

He wasn’t even comforted by the warmth your body produced next to him.

Most days he’d roll over and wrap his arm around your body, pulling you close to his body to cuddle you.

This morning however, Dabi rolled away from you and climbed out of bed. You looked over your shoulder at him, confused and slightly hurt. Did you do something to make him upset last night?

You followed after your angsty boyfriend, walking out of the bedroom and down the hall into the kitchen.

He crashed at your apartment a lot, being a villain it was hard to get his own home. You didn’t know where he stayed when he wasn’t at your place.

He grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboards, pouring himself a bowl. You pulled the milk out of the fridge, handing it to him with a smile.

He scrunched up his nose at your kindness, snatching the carton from your hand and angrily pulling the cap off.

You sighed, nervously pouring yourself a bowl as Dabi started to eat. He didn’t even bother to sit at the table.

“Hey, babe? You okay? You seem kind of... off today.”

Your boyfriend glanced down at you, cerulean eyes seemingly staring right through you.

“M’fine.” He grunted. Your frown tightened.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that.” You shook your head at him.

Dabi glared down at you in annoyance. His scowl deepening. You took a step back, concerned and scared.

“Dabi, please talk to me.” You pleaded with him.

“Uzéndayo.” He grumbled angrily. “Fuck off.”

“Please, you’ll hurt my feelings.” You scoffed sarcastically. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

“Don’t fuckin need to. Leave me alone.”

“Dabi, this is my place. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then I’ll leave!” He snapped, brushing past you and leaving his cereal on the counter to sog.

He snatched his jacket off the back of the couch, shrugging it onto his shoulders.

“Seriously, Dabi! What the hell’s going on! Did I do something wrong?”

It pissed him off further to hear you blame yourself. You always thought it was your fault, but it never was.

“Oh shut the fuck up for once! Quit thinking it’s all about you! It’s not always about you!”

“Dabi just fucking talk to me! I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You stepped in front of the door, flinging your arms open to block ilhis exit. He looked you in the eyes, seething.

“Nothing happened!” He shouted “Sometimes I’m just angry for no reason! Get out of my way and I’ll take my anger out on some rando and not on you. Then I’ll come back and we can pretend this never happened.”

“Dabi I won’t let you just kill some innocent person because you’re upset! Just sit with me and we can talk it out and-“

“That’s always your solution! Quit being a wimpy pacifist and move!”

“I’m not a pacifist, I just don’t think you should kill without reason!”

“Well I have a fucking reason!”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to!”

“That’s not a reason!”

“Just get out of my fucking way or I’ll make you!”

“Dabi, just talk to me!”

It was the last thing you said before he grabbed your arm and pulled your body forward to meet his. Your chest pressed against his, his face right in front of yours.

It’d be hot if you weren’t so scared.

“Listen here you little shit,” he growled, low and angry “I’m stronger than you in every fucking way.”

“Dabi?”

“I could kill you in an instant if I so desired.”

“Dabi-“

“Incinerate your filthy annoying ass any day I want, so be fucking grateful for once and watch your damn mouth!”

“Dabi!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN! I am superior to you in every way, you should be grateful I even share oxygen with you!”

“DABI YOU’RE HURTING ME!”

“I DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS, LISTEN TO ME YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!” He screamed in your face, eyes wild with unchecked rage.

Tears flowed down your face as you sobbed, indescribable pain was shooting up through your arms.

Dabi’s eyes finally drifted downwards, and he froze, mouth falling slack.

Smoke was billowing off his hands, and his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping you.

He snapped his hands away from you, curling them into his body as his eyes widened. He took a few steps back.

There were black scorch marks on your body in the shape of his hands. They looked real bad.

“Get out.” You whispered, so soft he couldn’t hear.

“W-what?”

“GET OUT!” You screamed, pointing at the door despite the intense pain in your arms. “GET OUT OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

“B-baby I’m sorry!” He shouted “I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOME BEFORE I TURN YOU IN!”

Dabi stumbled past you, quickly rushing out of your apartment and shutting the door behind him.

His back was pressed against the wood as he slid down, covering his face as he listened to your sobs on the other side, hearing your footsteps fade into the bathroom, probably to run cold water on your skin.

For a moment, all the could think about was the cereal on the counter, getting soggy.

“Fuck.” He muttered, eyes burning as they tried to produce tears without his tear ducts.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

Shoto Todoroki

Shit wrong emo scar boy with daddy issues, fire powers, and an evil older sibling with blue fire

There we go

It was a shitty day.

Well, most days were shitty days, but today was shittier than usual.

A home visit, Endeavor trying to act like he was ‘upset about everything that happened,’ and pretending he was the victim in the situation.

It would be enough to set anyone on edge, especially Shouto.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he returned to the dorms with a deep frown on his face.

Even when Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka tried to talk to him, he still seemed angry the whole time. There was really only one thing that should be able to cheer him up. Let’s hope you do your job well.

“Knock knock~ Shouto it’s me!” you stood on the outside of Shouto’s dorm. You knew Shouto must be stressed, so you’d gotten him some brownies from the sweets cupboard, Sato’s locks were easy to pick.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” his response was blunt, clearly annoyed that you’d bothered his brooding. “Go away.”

You sighed, he could act like such a child sometimes!

“Shouto, I just want to cheer you up! Let me in, babe.” a moment later, he swung the door open, am annoyed glare on his face. You smiled sweetly at him, handing him the plate of brownies. His hands remained in his pockets, glancing down at the brownies then back up at you.

“Um... can I come in?” you asked quietly. He shrugged, stepping aside to let you in. You stepped past him, sitting on the edge of the platform bed, setting the brownies on the nightstand.

Shouto closed the door behind him, turning to face you.

“Do... do you want to talk about it?” Shouto huffed, shaking his head and looking away from you.

“Do I look like I want to talk?” he snapped. You flinched, his tone was harsh.

“Shouto I just want to help, you don’t need to be rude.”

“I don’t give a shit if I’m being ‘rude.’“ He growled, arms crossed.

His eyes stared coldly at you. Yeah, he was definetly upset.

“That’s okay, we can chat about something else. Oh, Sato probably needs to change the lock on the sweets cupboard, I kinda broke it getting you these brownies!” you looked up at him, smile faltering as he looked down his nose at you. “Are... are you mad at me?”

“Wow, you just noticed that.” he rolled his eyes. “I told you to go away but you didn’t.”

“I-I’m sorry, I was just really worried about you. You’re my boyfriend and I love you, I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“Then maybe you should try fucking listening to me for once. If I don’t want to talk, then you can’t make me talk.” You nodded, apologizing again.

“Oh my god shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “You’re always talking, always apologizing, you’re getting on my fucking nerves!”

“Okay!” you stood up quickly, lifting your hands defensively. “I’ll just leave!”

You brushed past him on your way to the door, hesitating on the handle. You glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Would you fucking stop with the pity?” you looked at the ground, not saying anything.

You heard the slap before you felt it.

The sting shot through your face, and you could hear Shouto shouting at you, but it was muffled. You didn’t know what he was saying.

You lifted your hand to your cheek, hissing in pain. He didn’t just slap you,

He used his fire.

You choked on your words, turning to look at your boyfriend with tear-filled eyes.

Shouto was looking at you with a look of sheer horror on his face.

“I’m sorry...” you whimpered. “I’m going-” you slipped out the door, ignoring Shouto’s shout for you to turn back and talk to him

That it was an accident.

That he didn’t mean it.

That didn’t matter.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Fuck Icy-Hot.

Fuck. Him.

He said he’d gotten stronger since the Summer Camp, but he hadn’t at all.

He was still loosing to Todoroki, and no matter how hard he was working, he still kept loosing to him.

His hand was buried in his hair, tugging harshly every so often as he listened to you ramble about something that happened during your work study.

Even you were getting ahead of him, his own partner was getting stronger than him. He’d promised he’d protect you, but that would be useless if you kept improving faster than him.

“Then afterwords, FatGum took me, Kirishima, and Amajiki to this resturaunt, and the owner turned out to be a huge fan of FatGum, she gave us free desert! Oh my gosh the cake was so good!” you exclaimed, laughing a little.

Bakugou grumbled under his breath a little, keeping his eyes away from your estatic face.

“Great.” you glanced back to your boyfriend from where you sat at your desk, eyebrows furroring. Usually, Katsuki would give you one of those proud smirks all like ‘that’s my partner,’ but today he seemed upset.

“You alright, Katsuki? Was your provisional licence class stressful today?” you asked sympathetically, moving your hand towards him to comfort him.

He yanked his hand away from you, shooting you a pissed off look.

“Fuck no.” he growled. “Even if it was, I can handle it. I don’t need your damn help.” you rested your hand on your lap.

“I know, Katsuki. My boyfriend’s so strong!” you smiled brightly at him. Usually complimenting him would make him feel better, but today it seemed to only piss him off more.

“Shut up.” he hunched over, curling into himself more. He pulled one leg up to his chest, holding it under his knee.

“Uh.. are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, cocking your head to the side gently.

“I’m fucking fine!” He snapped, keeping his eyes anywhere but on you. “I don’t need your pity!”

“Pity? Katsuki I’m not pitying you, I’m worried for you. You’re my boyfriend and I want you to be happy so-”

“Didn’t I say to shut up?” he stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t give me your worry, fight me instead!”

“Why the hell would I fight you, Katsuki? I already know you’re stronger than me!”

“Fucking how? You got that new work study you’re constantntly talking about! How haven’t you gotten stronger than me?”

“Is that what this is about? I’ve only been at my work study for a few days, how in the world could I have leaped leagues in that amount of time to reach your level?”

“Then why even join that stupid work study if you’re not getting stronger?”

“I am getting stronger, just not fast enough to be at your level that quickly!” you explained. “Sorry?”

“Ugh just shut the fuck up!” he shouted, storming out of your dorm and down the hall to the common room. There were a only a few people in there,

Yao-Momo and Jirou in the kitchen, Kirishima and Kaminari on the couches, and Sero was leaning over the back of the couch. They all looked up when Bakugou stormed in with you on his tail.

“Katsuki, you’re confusing me! What’s going on? How can I help? Is it something I did?”

“Just leave me alone, okay? Go away!” he shouted over his shoulder. Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, and Yaoyorazu all snapped their heads towards you and Bakugou.

“Katsuki, please! You’re scaring me!” you glanced over at your friends, Jirou and Yao-Momo glancing between each other and muttering.

“Yo, Kachan, the hell’s going on between you and Y/n?” Kaminari asked, standing up. Sero hissed at him to sit down if he wanted to keep his head.

“I’m sorry, Kaminari, Bakugou’s upset and I don’t know why-”

“Don’t know why? Quit it with the lies! I hate liars!”

“I-I’m not lying! I really don’t know!” you reached forward, latching your hand onto his wrist. “Please just talk to me!”

“BULLSHIT!” he snapped his hand away from yours. “You’re a fucking liar!”

“Bakubro, calm down!” Kirishima stood up, briskly walking over to the two of you.

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” Bakugou slammed his palm against Kirishima’s face, setting off a small explosion.

“KIRISHIMA!” You ran to his side as the smoke cleared, finding his face hardened.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” he assured you. He offered you a small smile, suddenly, he yelped and ducked, avoiding another hit from Bakugou.

“LET GO OF THEM!” he shouted, and his hand sparked twice before setting off again. This time right next to your face.

You hit the ground first, then felt stinging pain across your face and shoulder.

You didn’t even hear your own screaming because of the fact that he blew up your ears.

You didn’t register Kirishima picking you up, or Bakugou staring after you in fear, or the others in the room scolding Bakugou or worrying about you.

All you knew in that moment was pain.

Pure, white hot, agonizing pain.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #angst train #dabi angst #dabi x reader #todoroki angst #todoroki x reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #shigaraki angst #shigaraki x reader #poc reader #male reader #trans reader #gender neutral reader

10K notes · View notes