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slut4celebs · 1 month ago

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Reneé's Nepo Baby

Reneé Rapp x Reader

Word Count: 1,016 words

Trigger Warnings: I don't think there are any...

Request/Synopsis: "reader has famous parents and acted since she was a child and Renee always had a major celebrity crush on reader? And then one of Renee’s famous friends just casually brings reader with them for a night out" - In which Reneé Rapp's childhood crush ends up at the same party as she is and she suddenly doesn't know how to act.

Please request here. < Pleaseeee, with a cherry on top. I'm desperate for requests.

Reneé gripped onto Alyah as music played loudly on the speakers. The DJ tonight might have been the best DJ Reneé had ever heard, but then again the underground clubs always tended to gatekeep all of the good music. The two of them laughed, their bodies pressed together as others danced around them. The air smelt of sweat and alcohol, or maybe that was just them. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion when Gavin Leatherwood, their fellow co-star walked in. The two of them gave him quick embraces when someone approaches, handing him a drink and smiling over to Reneé and Alyah, who both forget how to breathe. It was an instant fangirl moment for the both of them.

There was no way in hell Gavin Leatherwood brought (Y/n) (L/n), the daughter of an eight-time Grammy winning music artist and a three-time Oscar winning actress. She might be a nepotism baby, but she was a star on the screen. She grew up with Reneé. In fact, it was her face that hung on her wall and was her middle school wallpaper back when all middle schoolers had their celebrity crushes as their screensavers. Now, here she was, standing in front of Reneé, as if they had always been friends. Which, in all honesty, would have been a dream for (Y/n).

Gavin had to have done this on purpose. After all, she was always finding a way to bring (Y/n) up in pretty much every conversation she had with her friends. In fact, there were multiple interviews where Reneé confessed to having the biggest celebrity crush on her. And, now, here she was. Gavin hadn't even let Reneé know they were friends. How could he allow Reneé to talk about her non-stop without divulging important information like this? She was in shock, quite frankly. She knew many of his other famous friends like Ross Lynch and Kiernan Shipka… It suddenly made sense. That's who had to have introduced them in the first place, Reneé decided in her overthinking over the whole situation.

She blinked a bit when Alyah elbowed her gently. She looked around to see everyone's eyes staring curiously at her. It was obvious she had missed out on a question of some sort by their gazes. Smiling a bit, she cleared her throat. She was thankful that the alcohol made her cheeks red and successfully hid her cheeks from the views of her friends and (Y/n). "Sorry, I think I missed it. What was the conversation about?" Reneé questioned, hoping that someone would fill her in on what was happening. She was silently cursing herself for having experienced an embarrassing moment like this in front of her.

"No problem," (Y/n) spoke up. Reneé could have died, realizing it was (Y/n) who had asked her the question she did not respond to. However, she kept her cool to the best of her ability. She couldn't freak out. She was doing so well. "I was saying that I really enjoyed your Snow Angel album. I'm a really big fan of your work. After discovering that album, I went down, like, a rabbit-hole of your work. Bruises? That's my life story."

Reneé grinned widely, straightening up. Though, she couldn't help but laugh, causing everyone to eye her a bit weird. "Sorry, sorry, it's just… I wrote that song because the first time I slept with a girl, I did it on my friend, Thomas's, couch. I thought it was gonna be like this cool thing we bonded over, but then everyone said it wasn't like a cool moment. Anyways…" She realized she had been rambling, biting her lip. She realized she's not making the best impression, right now. Maybe because she was overthinking it all when all she wanted was for this to be perfect.

(Y/n) smiled a bit at Reneé's story. "Hey… Do you want to dance?" (Y/n) questioned, surprising the group. Gavin glanced at Reneé giving her two thumbs up. The whole reason he brought (Y/n) was to surprise her. Alyah shook her head with a smile because leave it to Reneé to charm a girl by telling a really embarrassing story about fucking some girl on her friend's couch. "This is my favorite song, and I am not going to waste it by dancing with Gavin. I'd rather dance with a pretty girl instead." She said after it took Reneé a little too long to answer. Though, in her defense, she was thoroughly starstruck that (Y/n) would even want to dance with her.

She nodded excitedly and the two of them hit the dance floor. Alyah looked over to Gavin with a large grin on her face. "I can't believe you never told us you were friends with (Y/n) (L/n). You had to know this was like… Reneé's dream, right? That's like her token nepo baby. We all have one." She said with her hands up in playful surrender. The phrasing made Gavin laugh and shake his head. But Alyah wasn't wrong. He smile proudly out in the proud as Reneé danced with her nepo baby celebrity crush, whom she could never shut up about on set when any content was released about her. It was hard work to keep it a secret, but he was waiting for the moment that (Y/n) had a free schedule to introduce them. He knew that they would hit it off.

"If I told her then, she would be too nervous to meet her… Though, me surprising her didn't make it any better, huh?" He said with a grin, watching (Y/n) and Reneé dance together as if they could predict each other's next moves. He smirked a bit, looking at Alyah, who was still impressed by what he had just done. "Am I like the most amazing matchmaker on set or what?"

Alyah couldn't help but roll her eyes at his cockiness, laughing a bit. "It wasn't hard to do when Reneé already gave you the blueprints of her crush and everything she liked about her. But… Good job following directions." She said, patting his shoulder.

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #anne's pop girlies

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skzhocomments · 11 months ago

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Mafia Book #2 - PART I - The Black Iris - Chapter 1 - Breathe in and jump

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 1 (current chapter) - Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 2

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PART I - THE BLACK IRIS

Chapter 1 - Breathe in and jump

chapter word count: 4.2k words

~Third person POV~

"Yo! Are you back already? Our Yongbok is doing so well!" Minho smiled sweetly, seeing Hyunjin and Felix open the kitchen door.

"Yea, he's doing amazing." Hyunjin praised. "He still has to take it easy, but..."

"I'm alright." Felix intervened. "It's already been a year; I can move and breathe normally now."

"That's great to hear, Lix. Soon enough you're gonna join on missions again." Lee Know poured some coffee in a mug and handed it over to Felix.

"I'm thrilled." Felix joked, grabbing the mug. He hesitated a bit before asking something that's been on his mind the whole day, taking a sip of his drink instead: "So... Did you see him today?"

"Who, Chris? I did, yea."

"Mhm. How is he doing...?"

"... Stick up his butt like usual." Minho replied sombrely. "He looks like he hasn't slept in 2 weeks, and he probably hasn't."

"Fuck." Hyunjin cursed under his breath. "I don't even know what to say... I love him, but he needs therapy... like yesterday."

"Who needs therapy?" Chris entered the big kitchen and nonchalantly walked towards the fridge, grabbing a cold water bottle.

"Boss?! I meant-"

"I don't need anything, Hyunjin. I'm perfectly fine." The leader replied coldly.

He's been like that ever since he cast away the love of his life, Emilia.

He simply couldn't forgive himself for his stupid actions that brought her death one year ago, so he did what he knew best: he let his soul die as well, with her, and he focused solely on Stray Kids.

He became the most heartless Mafia leader there was, not caring about anything else but building his empire to be able to protect the only people he cared about.

He killed, killed, and killed anyone and anything mercilessly, unable to feel even the slightest bit of remorse.

He would do so with a straight face, for his soul was as vacant as an empty shell.

The members knew this all too well, but no matter what they would say or do, it wouldn't matter. The Chan they all knew and loved was too far gone, only a ruthless monster that swore to protect them left in his place.

Therefore, it's safe to say that Stray Kids' House was no longer the happy place filled with laughter it once was. A gloomy energy hung around in the air, and there was an especially uncomfortable tension between the oldest – Chris – and the youngest member – Jeongin. None of them wanted to address it, though, so they let themselves grow distant and turned a blind eye to the other's suffering.

With Chris being so unavailable emotionally, it all fell on Minho to pick up the pieces. After all, he was the next in command when it came to their Mafia.

He would go ever so often in the leader's place to represent the Mafia, especially internationally, since he took over the gun trade business with Momo after Hyo's passing.

As Minho found himself once again leaving the house in the middle of the night, he pulled out a cigarette from his pack – the second one he bought today – and headed towards nowhere in particular.

The night's breeze felt cold against his cheeks, as he leisurely walked around the empty streets of the city. He used these calm moments to contemplate on why everything fell apart so horribly.

Well, not everything. Their mafia was more prosperous than ever. The Empire Chan's father built - the North Side, as it used to be called – was only a little kid compared to the territory Stray Kids managed to take over in the past year. It was quite scary, frankly, what Chan was capable of when he dedicated his whole energy towards something.

However, everything comes at a price. To welcome this new change, all of them – Chan, more than anyone else – changed drastically.

How could losing one girl affect him so much, Minho wondered?

It was dumb to be so blinded by love.

Love, what even is that? Minho asked himself and continued walking on the icy streets.

Sure, he understood the concept of it. He thought what he felt for his members could probably be described as love; he cried seeing Felix almost dead last year, and his heart burned with Chris' from the loss of his Shade. But could love screw you up so badly to make you become an entirely different person once you lose it?

Well, that wasn't exactly true, and Minho knew it all too well, for Chan didn't only lose the love of his life; he was also betrayed by someone he thought to be a little sister he held precious. And worst of all, he blamed himself for everything that happened.

Guiltiness is one of the harshest feelings that can weigh down on you, and both Chris and Minho felt it stronger each day, for each of them held part of the blame.

Chan – for everything he did wrong one year ago, and Minho – for allowing himself to be played like a violin by Hyo and turn Chan against Emilia, who did nothing wrong but put her trust in the people she considered friends.

Thus, Minho couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for the downfall of his leader's life.

What could he do differently to make Chris be his old self, or at least a fraction of his old self? Or actually – was there even anything he could do?

It was one of these nights that Minho found something in particular that caught his eye. Or rather – someone.

He was once again out walking aimlessly in the middle of the night when he decided to cross one of the many bridges over the river.

After half the distance and reluctantly remembering that he has a busy day tomorrow, he pressed his back on the railing and lit up a cigarette.

Inhaling the smoke and relaxing, he allowed himself to stop thinking of everything that went wrong for a moment. Or at least try to.

That's when he spotted her, on the other side, smoking a cigarette herself.

She was dressed elegantly, in an all-black pencil skirt stopping right above her knees and a dark blazer, topped with a delicious pair of red bottoms black high heels.

Definitely my type, Minho thought, admiring the sight.

He was a man, after all.

Just seeing her felt entertaining enough for the 5 minutes long cigarette break he took, so when he was done, he threw it on the ground, stomping it with his foot, and forgot all about the girl with the pretty silhouette and slutty high heels.

A month or so later, the night brought him to the bridge again, his back supported by the same railing. It was an unorthodox hour, just like last time, and there she was, lighting up a cigarette.

This time, though, she was dressed more casually: black trousers and the same elegant blazer, no high heels, a pair of black loafers hugging her feet instead.

The same perfect silhouette prompted Minho to watch her from the other side once again, taking note of her late-night activities. She would chain smoke her cigarettes, no breaks in-between, and she would sometimes shift her weight from one leg to the other. Her elbows were promptly supporting her on the bridge's railing.

He couldn't see her face, for she was looking far in the horizon, her back turned to him, but Minho already thought she was beautiful, just for the way she was carrying herself. That's something you observe after being in his line of work for a while. There's a lot you can tell about someone from their mannerisms, from how straight they keep their back and from how high they hold their head.

After admiring her for a while, he decided to let her be and left to his business, taking note of the time on his watch. He had more important things to do than watch a random woman smoke.

What was she doing there, anyway?

It was too late for a woman to be alone there, in the middle of a random bridge. The thought that she was a hooker passed Minho's mind, but he quickly realised that it wasn't the case, as he kept returning to the same spot again and again and seeing her religiously follow the same ritual: cigarette after cigarette, shifting her weight from the left leg to the right and back every 15 minutes or so, and looking far away in the horizon, as if lost in thought.

Soon enough, he started to become curious. Who was she, and why was she there every night?

He knew it was stupid to wonder, especially since he did the same thing as her, coming there every night for no particular reason, but still, he couldn't understand why she kept going to the bridge just to smoke and look at the pitch black in front of her, for he was sure she wasn't able to see anything, and the water was too far down to be able to even hear it that well.

He's been watching the girl in secrecy for some time now. After all, it would've been hard to explain to the members that he was basically stalking someone he doesn't even know the face of yet, so he just kept it to himself.

Observing her so closely for the past month, though, made him sure that he would be able to tell her apart from a crowd any time with ease.

That night, as usual, he headed towards his spot on the bridge and started watching the girl. She was sporting the same tight black pencil skirt and high heels like the first night he's seen her.

One cigarette, two, three, and then her lighter seemed to stop working. She hectically shook it in all directions, but she wasn't able to get it to flame again.

Seemingly defeated, she turned around for the first time since Minho started coming to the bridge, and angrily threw the lighter, smashing it in the process, cigarette still in mouth. Her lips were full and stained deep red, and her teeth – for she was holding the cigarette with her teeth, not with her lips – were perfectly white.

Her expression, though, stayed neutral, despite her harsh actions of smashing the lighter to pieces, and she pressed her back on the railing and let herself fall down to the ground in defeat. That's when she spotted Minho for the first time, something catching her eye: his lit-up cigarette.

She locked eyes with him and smirked, and God, was she beautiful.

Minho's head rang with a quote he once heard in a stupid TV show Felix made him watch – American Horror Story, or something like that. The quote went like this: The Devil is real, and he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful, because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favourite.

Watching the girl look in his eyes with so much determination, he couldn't help but think that she must've been the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She was expressive and seemed tough, and the smirk tugging at her lips told Minho she has definitely been God's favourite at some point, even if she seemed far from that now.

Just like the Devil. Minho smiled, lazily making his way across, taking out his lighter. When he reached her, he placed the flame in front of her mouth, waiting until her cigarette was lit as well.

"Thank you." She nodded. Even her voice sounded beautiful to his ears.

"Don't mention it." He put the lighter back in his pocket and contemplated joining her on the ground for a brief moment, but he considered that this would only bring bad luck, that there was no point in getting acquainted with her, despite his profound curiosity.

So, he just turned around and left, before hearing her voice once more.

"Name?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Who asks someone for their name that way?

"Why? Curious?" he faced her again. She was still nonchalantly sitting on the ground, smoking her cigarette, and looking somewhere far away in the distance, not even a glance Minho's way.

"Honestly? Not really, no."

Well, this is getting interesting.

"Then why would you ask?"

"To pass time, obviously. We are the only 2 people crazy enough to be here at this hour."

"Crazy? I'd say we are the only two sane enough people to be here, doll." Minho replied, seeing the woman stand up and patting her skirt clean.

"That's certainly one way to put it. So, you're a "the glass is half empty" type, hm?" She smiled, still looking far away. "A bit pessimistic."

"Who knows? I always thought of myself as a realist."

"Yea? Are you such an objective person?" she smiled, finally turning her eyes at him, placing a hand in front of her, gesturing with her fingers to signal that she wanted something from the man. "Care to share that with me again, doll?" she signalled to Minho's pockets.

He scoffed, taking the lighter out and giving it to her. "Another one already? You're gonna get lung cancer and die in 2 years max if you keep it up."

"What is it, do you mean to say you care about what happens to me? Don't make me laugh." She chuckled slightly, lighting her cigarette on fire and inhaling the toxic smoke.

"Might as well keep it. It's Minho."

"Cute." She smirked. "And thanks for the present. I shall put it to good use and value it greatly, Minho." She winked.

"What's yours?"

"This lighter, obviously." She chuckled, playing a bit with Minho's patience.

"Your name, doll. That's what I want to know." He was growing impatient, and she noticed.

"Why? Curious?" She grinned, repeating the question he asked her just minutes ago.

Minho clicked his tongue, making her let out a small chuckle, as if she had won the little game they were playing.

"I'm Iris."

What a nice name. Fitting.

And the fact that she has such a prideful attitude only makes it better. Minho thought, smiling cunningly.

I should go, shouldn't I? he thought further, trying to convince himself to not spend any minute longer with this woman. She was addictive, somehow, and he certainly didn't want to end up in any disadvantageous situation.

"So, doll, why are you here at 3 AM on a Monday? Can't sleep, or are you running away from your problems?" she eyed him from under her eyelashes and smirked.

"You know my name now, don't you?" Minho took a threatening step towards her, a mischievous grin on his lips as well.

"Just giving you the same treatment you gave me, that's all." She shrugged, staying still.

"I just couldn't sleep. You?"

"Oh, so a man with too much on his mind, but somehow a realist! Sounds like trouble if you ask me." She looked once again in the horizon, before continuing. "I'm also way too troubled to sleep."

"So you prefer to come up here and fuck up your health?" Minho chuckled, pointing at her cigarette again.

"Look who's talking." She rolled her eyes annoyed.

She didn't need any bastard to tell her what is good for her, but there he was, doing it again. It was even worse that he was such a hypocrite. Wasn't he also smoking a few minutes ago?

"And that short skirt you're flaunting? Looks stunning, but will attract all the wrong attention during the night."

"What, do you want to fuck me?" she asked plainly.

"Why, are you that readily available?"

She scoffed at him and repositioned herself to face him properly, before bringing her body directly in front of his.

Faced mere inches apart, she mouthed a "Never.", then went around the man and left him there, staring at her.

She was a strange woman, just perfect for a strange man.

The next time Minho visited the bridge almost two weeks later, she was there, just as usual: her back turned against the road, her eyes facing the dark abyss over the bridge.

However, she did something oddinary: she turned around and glanced directly into Minho's eyes, as if she was expecting him to show up, to be there.

And then she waved her hand playfully with a big grin on her lips, expecting a wave in return, which he was quick to give. It was like she was tugging at the strings controlling his body, like a puppet master. She knew how to get him to make the gestures or expressions she wanted him to make, even when they were so far away from each other.

Many nights like this followed, where both would wave at the other, as if exchanging pleasantries, none of them willing to take a single step forward.

She was far too prideful for that, and she still had a bitter taste in her mouth from their last interaction. Admiring him from the other side was enough for her. He was really beautiful, a sight to look at, but his mouth was far too rotten for her liking. Besides, he seemed like bad news, all the alarm bells ringing in her head as soon as he handed her his lighter telling her this. He seemed dangerous even across the bridge from her. It felt like she wasn't far enough, and she knew she shouldn't mingle with him.

He was simply cautious. He was already obsessed enough with wanting to know who she was, what she did for a living, why she came here, how well she'd manage to keep her balance on those high heels bent over his desk – just thoughts like that. And as much as he wanted to find out, to make those thoughts a reality, he knew it wouldn't be wise to do so.

He was in a Mafia, for fuck's sake. He couldn't play the role of pretty boyfriend and take her out on dates during the day, while he mercilessly killed people during the night.

Just watching her is enough. He would keep telling himself.

I will stay away.

So why couldn't he just stay away and watch as one massive dude grabbed her by the wrist and turned her around, trying to overpower her?

It was like his body reacted without him realising, as he crossed over with heavy steps towards her.

However, she didn't seem to need him at all at first. She managed to free her arm from the man's grip and land a punch in his crotch, swearing at him like a sailor, and when he tried to throw a punch himself, she managed to avoid it with ease.

Her technique was messy, but luckily for her, the attacker was as skilled as a pig when it came to fighting.

Watching everything unfold in front of his eyes, Minho couldn't help but let out the biggest grin. How many more surprises did this girl have in store for him?

When the big guy raised his hand once more in the air to attempt to hit Iris, Minho pulled his hand back and tackled him to the ground, stepping on his neck with all his weight.

"Yah, I think I stepped on a big pile of shit by mistake. My shoe's all dirty now. Will you pay for this?" he asked mockingly, looking at Iris.

"Argh, I'm sorry dude, I get it! I'll leave her alone! Please get off!" The guy tried to ration, but Minho was having none of it. He pressed on his neck with even more force, making the guy choke.

After a few agonising seconds, he stepped away from the guy, allowing him to breathe, before sending a powerful kick his way.

"Go crawl wherever you came from, you cockroach." Minho said coldly, watching the guy barely get up from the ground and run away for his life.

Iris observed all of this with a neutral expression on her face. She seemed unphased by Minho's actions, and if she were true to herself, she even felt a bit of appreciation. She'd never let him know that, though.

"You're welcome." He said with a mischievous grin.

"I didn't ask you for your help." She replied, shrugging.

"You didn't, but I certainly helped, didn't I?"

"I guess so." She shrugged again. "Good to see you on this side, by the way."

"Yeah, good to be here." He shrugged this time. "Where did you learn to fight that way?"

"Why, you impressed?"

"Tsch." He tongued his cheek. "Not at all. Your skills are a mess. You could use some help polishing them."

"What, doll, do you want to teach me?" she asked in a low voice and came near him, face mere inches apart. She knew she should've backed away instead. She should've run, and never returned to this bridge again, for she knew he was danger.

"I could, if you'd want me to." He raised a threatening eyebrow.

"I don't think so." Her bright smile didn't reach her eyes, but that didn't bother Minho in the slightest. He loved playing this game with her.

"I bet I could help, though. Look, if you throw a punch with your little finger's metacarpal bone, you'll break it. It's the weakest one in your hand. You should hit with your index finger's bone first." He pointed towards his hand and showed her the proper way she should clench her fist before a fight.

"You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject." She came in front of him, face mere inches apart, similar to that night a few weeks ago. It seems her resolve to stay away was not strong enough.

Minho's breath hitched in his throat, but he didn't want to show her the effect she could have on him. Instead, he appeared composed as he slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her body into his.

He expected this action to startle her, so he was most surprised when she was the one to grab his collar and close the gap between their lips.

Her tongue rolled on his top lip as her hands moved from the collar of his shirt to his nape, her fingernails drawing small circles on it.

Minho opened his mouth and allowed their tongues to start a war against the other, and feeling her hands so delicate on the back of his neck, he couldn't help but let out a small moan in her mouth, making her smirk.

She tasted sweet. Too damn sweet.

As if she got what she wanted, she pulled away and admired Minho's fucked up beautiful face, stains of her red lipstick everywhere on his wet mouth.

He watched her in awe, mesmerised by her completely. What happened next came naturally for him, as the sexual tension was almost palpable. His hands found the back of her waist again, pulling her closer once more. They were quick to move from her waist under her blouse, fingers gently grazing the soft skin on her abdomen – moment when she pushed him away.

A tint of fear on her face disappeared as quickly as it came, a small grin showing up instead.

She chuckled a bit, before slapping his shoulder playfully two times and starting to walk away.

"That's it?" Minho asked, watching her elegant figure getting further away from him.

"I got something back for myself, so I'm done for the night. Thanks for the fighting technique lesson, by the way. Bye-bye!" she waved casually, continuing to walk.

What was on her mind?

Minho couldn't tell. He also couldn't convince himself to pursue her, give up on his pride and ask for her number. After all, why would he? She would most certainly be there the following night, as she did the past three months.

Except she wasn't.

Minho kept coming back, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. It seems she left him high and dry. This certainly hasn't happened before.

How dare she?

Disappointed in his lack of entertainment the past nights, he had to leave for a mission that would keep him far away from the city for a few weeks – far away from the bridge.

When he returned, it was the first night in almost two months that he saw her again. She wasn't dressed in her usual dark blazer, nor did she wear heels or loafers as she usually would. She had big black trousers and a black hoodie on, but he still recognised her instantly, even with her back facing him, proving his hypothesis that he would've definitely known who she was just from the way she carries herself, from her straight back and perfect posture, and from the confident aura she emanates.

He resumed his position on the other side of the bridge and simply watched her, as he used to do before he put a name to her pretty face.

Iris.

After being away from her for so long, he wasn't even sure if their kiss happened or if he just dreamt it in one of his many wet dreams where she squirmed under him and moaned his name over and over with that sweet voice of hers.

He started counting how many cigarettes she lit up ever since he got here, and after the fifth in a row, she started taking off her shoes – some black sneakers to complete her cosy look tonight – and felt the concrete with her bare feet. After a few more puffs, she threw the still lit, unfinished cigarette on the ground and used her arms to raise herself above the railing.

She stood barefoot on the top of the railing and looked down to the abyss. Too dark to see anything, too far away from the water below, falling from here would be suicide.

Coincidentally, exactly what she wanted.

This is it. She thought. It will finally end. Just one more step.

She breathed in anxiously a couple of times, her chest rising up and down rapidly, and after a few moments of gathering her courage, deep breaths in her lungs, she jumped.

---

Chapter 2

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burger-boy-jones · 3 years ago

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Would Anyone Care

Leo x Depressed Suicidal Reader x Donnie

Warnings: Attempted Suicide, Depression, Self Harm (Do not read this if it triggers you, you have been warned)

Song: Would Anyone Care by Citizen Soldier

Notes: Uhm yeah this is a real banger, kinda cried in the middle of making this one because its to close to home. I suffer from Depression myself and it tends to get worse over time. I rely alot on my friends to help me out and I'm so thankful for each and every one of them. If you suffer from Depression know this, you are not alone and not the only one suffering with it. You are cared for and loved by everyone and anyone and don't ever think that you aren't. Please take care of yourself, not just for your sake, but for others. Also side note uhm, sorry if it seems like its all over the place lol, kinda rushed this one. Also again while reading listen to the song as it will definitely not make you cry. 😢

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to a year. Yet nothing has changed for the better for Y/N.

Aside from meeting them.

The turtles.

Y/N has to thank her friend April for meeting them, it was an accident of course.

An ugly one at that.

(Would anyone notice?)

(If tonight I disappeared?)

April decided she was gonna introduce Y/N to her friends, seeing that her friend was lonely and quite frankly it worried her.

Y/N was always alone if not being bullied for being a bookworm, but on top of that she was also shy. April however never judged her for who she was and managed to befriend her.

(Would anyone chase me)

It wasn't enough however, after that fatal day, everyone was a bit on edge.

April managed to convince them to come meet her friend and they obliged. What they didnt expect was that they all had walked in on Y/N cutting into her skin, blood running down her arm as it dripped onto her apartment floor.

Everyone was panicking as they rushed over to Y/N to asses the self injury.

(And say the words that I need to hear?)

This lead to being introduced to Donatello or Donnie, the tech savvy turtle in purple, he seemed arrogant, prideful, and rude at first but he's actually alot nicer than you think of course. He's also a certified bad boy or so he claims he is.

He stepped closer to Y/N, as he tapped away at his wrist watch as he ran some vital scans.

She doesn't even rememeber what he said, it all was so blurry to her. Then again she knows she hasnt eaten in a couple of days and hasn't drank alot of water too. So perhaps that would explain her blurry vision but she wouldn't know she's not a doctor.

(That I'm no burden)

(Not so worthless)

She does remember watching the blue banded turtle step forward, as he started to fix up her arm. His name she came to know was Leonardo or Leo for short. He called himself the face man, the star of the team he claims he is. He is as tactile as he is annoying, well only when he says his one liners. Which Y/N enjoyed very much, much to the brothers disappoinment.

She should have been paying more attention when it came to everything going on around her, but at the time all she focused on was the blue and purple turtles.

Donatello and Leonardo captured Y/N's interest from that day on.

Time passed after that day, and for the better?

As she got to know the turtles, things got easier and better for Y/N. She started to come outta her shell (heh) and began opening up to the others.

(Bent so much that I might break)

Y/N really was getting better.

(All consuming, so confusing)

(The questions that keep me awake)

I mean she did get into a relationship with Donnie and Leo. Which at first shocked them both from her startling confession of the two, to which they at first weren't sure how to go about this relationship.

Things worked itself out eventually, and for the better.

Or so they thought.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

At first they took to keeping an eye on her, due to past experiences she either talked about or their first meeting with her...they would rather not talk about it.

Eventually they were able to trust her by herself.

Which in itself should have been a good thing, but it wasn't. Y/N took advantage of her alone time and wound up hurting herself due to not being enough.

Not being good enough for Leo and Donnie.

She would constantly put herself down and think negatively, and it would always lead to her cutting herself or trying to end her life.

Leo found a noose in her bathroom at one point which scared the shit outta him. After that you never seen it again, which he was relived of.

Unfortunately this lead Donnie to researching her symptoms and it alarmed him.

Y/N had Depression, severe Depression at that.

The first thought that ran through his mind was if she was on medication, and if she was taking it.

The answer was no.

(Would anything change?)

(Would you all be just fine?)

Of course Donnie told Leo about this startling information and it bothered Leo tremendously.

Which led Leo to telling Donnie about the noose, and god did it freak Donnie out. Leo had never seen Donnie act so outta of it before, unless it came to his tech.

So from then on both tended to be by her side...well as much as possible after finding out about her Depression.

('Cause I need a reason to not throw the fight)

They made sure she was taking her men's once she got them, along with making sure she was eating and drinking properly.

(It might just save my life)

Things were going so well, until now that is.

Today was their one year anniversary of dating, both the turtles thought it would be a good idea for a dinner date up on the roof at night.

Only their was one problem.

They couldn't find Y/N.

(Would anyone want me)

(If they knew what was inside my head?)

(Would anyone see me)

(For the person that I really am?)

(I won't lie so hard to hide)

They checked her apartment on arrival only to find nothing but a recently used bloody razor on her bathroom sink. Then they checked her bedroom, Donnie found her empty depression med bottle on the floor.

With closer inspection, Donnie found all the pills were emptied out into her trashcan.

(I've never felt worthy of love)

Y/N wasn't taking her meds!

(I would give up everything I have just to feel good enough)

"Leo! Has Y/N been taking her meds like she's suppose to?" Donnie asked his twin with a slight quiver to his voice.

"I think so...why?" Leo ask with hesitation only for Donnie to wave him over as he points to the trash can. Leo's eyes widen as he lets out a gasp.

"She...she hasn't been taking her...why?!" Leo slams a fist against the bedroom wall in anger, not at her but at himself for not checking in on her even more.

"Donnie where do you think she is?" Leo asks his twin, as he eyes the hole in the wall he made himself.

He'll fix that later he reminds himself.

Right now the only thought running through both there minds is where Y/N is at.

"The roof!" Both say is unison.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

(If I finally stepped off of this ledge tonight?)

Witht that they rush outta the apartment and ascend up to the roof, seeing Y/N standing by the very edge.

"Y/N!" Both Leo and Donnie yell out, watching as she slowly turns around to face them both.

('Cause I need a reason to not throw the fight)

"I'm sick of being alive!" She yells out, making both flinch at the tone of her hoarse voice.

Y/N's been crying. They can see her puffy red eyes from where there standing.

"Y/N don't do this!" Donnie yells, as Leo nods in agreement. "We love you Y/N please...keep fighting through the pain!" Leo says as he starts to cry.

She takes a step back, wobbling slightly as she's getting closer to the edge.

(Let me in, let me share in your pain)

(From my lungs through the dark)

(Spoken straight from the heart)

(Let me give you a reason to stay)

"Y/N!" Both yell, there eyes widening as they themselves try to get closer to her.

They need to think of something fast or else they might loose her.

"Mikey's gonna miss how passionately you get when you share your stories that you write!" Leo shouts out, startling Y/N as her eyes widen.

Wait...does he really like my stories? She questions.

"Yeah! What about Raph? You share his same worries over all of us, the both of you make sure were taken care of and we love you both for that!" Donnie yells out, knowing what Leo is trying to do. He'll thank his brother later for the quick thought on this.

They continue to tell Y/N how much they mean to her and how many broken people their would be if she left. They can tell its starting to get to her.

Y/N starts to cry at this.

"Most of all, we love you for being you. You loved us when we never thought anyone could ever love a mutant like us." They both say, making Y/N cry harder. "Come back home Y/N, you can talk to us about how you feel, hell you could move in with us, I'm sure dad wouldn't mind." Leo says a bit rushed.

Y/N stops crying as she stares at the both them, small smiles adorning there face as they hold out their hands to her.

She can't do this, they deserve so much better than her.

With her last ounce of energy she shoots them a small smile, giving them hope that would quickly be taken away.

(Would anyone care)

(Would anyone cry)

(If you finally gave up and turned out the light?)

With that she leans back as she lets herself fall off the ledge of the building.

"Y/N!!" There eyes widen as they both rush forward to try and grab her but they miss.

She stares back at there horror stricken faces through blurred eyes.

The rush of the wind around her feels nice as she's falling to her death.

They deserve better she reminds herself as she allows another smile to grace her face.

Just when she thought she was about to hit the ground a new pressure is being wrapped around her waist?

She opens her eyes that she didnt even know she closed, to see Donnie had grabbed ahold of her, him using his jetpack to save them both. To save Y/N.

Donnie guides them both back up top as he holds her in shaking arms. Leo sees this and comes rushing over to embrace her as well.

"Y/N please...please never do that again! We love you! We don't wanna loose you, you mean the world to us both. You mean the world to April...she sees you as her sister...if you had died...she'd be devasted." Leo says in between sobs as Donnie hums in agreement as he too is crying.

"Let's go home...Donnie can make you stronger meds, and I'm sure your hungry too so Raph can order the pizza. Oh! Mikey can play some of your favorite music that calms you down!" Leo rambles on as Y/N is left alone to her thoughts.

They do care, they do love me, they really would miss me if I left...but I didn't because they saved me.

(Tonight is the night, you take back your life)

(Take back your life)

"Let's go home...my real home boys." Y/N says as a geniune smile graces her face as both boys kiss the side of her head.

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #leonardo x reader #donatello x reader #rottmnt april

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astro-rain · 4 years ago

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

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phantom-wolf · 3 years ago

Text

Day 8: Pirates and Cowboys

Old life, New Beginning

A/N: I'm going to put content warnings in the tags and also before the story just in case

For @usukweek

Content warnings: character held captive/ prisoner, mentions of robbery, use of guns, mention of insects, 10 year age gap, minor character death, suggestive themes

Summary: In 1875, Arthur Kirkland decides to travel to Europe. On his journey the ship he's on is attacked by pirates. Lo and behold one of those pirates is Alfred Jones.

You can also read it here:

A familiar four clicks accompanied the movement of his thumb as the hammer of the single action was cocked. A spatter of blood and gore soon accentuated the deck as one of the pirates took the bullet that tore from the blond's revolver. He instinctually ducked as bullets whistled by and nearly found their mark. The only thing roaring in his ears was the sound of his own heartbeat, unimpeded by gunfire but rather spurned to a faster beat as adrenaline flooded his senses. The ringing in his ears that would've been acknowledged by a novice went unnoticed. Fragments of wood dispersed as bullets embedded themselves into the deck and masts of the ship.

The male found himself in a less than ideal position, forced to take cover in a location that left his rear exposed and able to be flanked. He couldn't afford to let his attention divert to this fact in the chaos of battle. All he could do was hope that the others could fend off the invaders and that there was no second point of entry. Another click distinguishable from the sound of the hammer was audible as the last chamber of the Peacemaker was emptied. Instead of wasting time reloading he reached for the second gun in its holster, a relatively newer Smith and Wesson model three he had bought off someone whose name he couldn't recall. Before he could properly grip and raise the weapon he sensed a presence behind him and felt metal dig into the back of his head. Instinctually he froze and mentally cursed himself for acknowledging the weakness while doing nothing to prevent it.

"Hand away from your weapon."

Weighing his options he complied, slowly feeling himself relax as the barrel was removed from the back of his head. He turned to face the perpetrator, sizing him up, taking note of his broader figure, dirty blond hair and estimating his age to be in his thirties before his focus shifted to looking down the barrel of the weapon. A gleeful delight overcame him, a catalyst for confidence whereas in a different situation he may not have had. There wasn't a round chambered in the barrel. His eyes flicked to the other man's blue ones before a laugh escaped his lips full of contempt and amusement, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as the fear drained from him. Pointedly he stated "If you're going to be aiming a weapon at someone it should be loaded."

His attacker had enough common sense to look slightly embarrassed, eyes widening slightly before narrowing once more, his finger curling tighter around the trigger and his thumb brushing against the hammer of his revolver in an attempt to regain control of the situation "There are five rounds, all it takes is a quick rotation of the cylinder. So I suggest you cooperate."

The pirates' attempt wielded no fruit as another snicker left the other's mouth." This was poorly planned on your part. If I was a- duller gentleman what would stop me from pulling my secondary and shooting you on the spot?"

The pirate looked affronted. "The fact that by the time you would've pulled it out I would've taken the end of this weapon and hit you over the head. Or simply pulled back the hammer a few times and shot you before you could me." Arthur could see the stranger practically bristling as he continued. "Anyway, what's wrong with you? Who decides to look down the barrel of a gun pointed at them?!" To his utmost amusement he could hear the man murmur under his breath about how in all the years-

"You're confident in your abilities I'll give you that. And you're lucky I'm no gunslinger." Arthur started, peeking over the barrel that served as cover and scanning the deck for any other resistance from the other crew members of the merchant ship. Finding none he decided not to risk being shot by the thieves who had boarded during their conversation. It had seemed the victors were decided. "To answer your question, a very clever man."

"Or a very stupid one" The pirate grumbled and narrowed his eyes, giving him a glance over before stopping on his face. Despite the now rather medium length beard that accompanied his features and some grey poking through his wild blond hair he could see a multitude of things flash through the other's expression, the two most prevalent being surprise then recognition.

"You're- Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur let another curse leave his lips not caring enough to hide his rather foul mouth as the stranger shouted to the others and he was guided on board the pirate's ship.

Now he found himself imprisoned aboard some ship he knew nothing about. A rich orange light filtered in through a circular window of some kind, slowly retracting and leaving strange shadows in its wake as the sun started to set. Left to his own thoughts for entertainment, he mulled over the irony of the situation and mused that if he had wanted to be in a cell he would've walked himself into the local sheriff's office. He mindlessly swatted festering insects away as they found their way into his holding through the opening, torn between being grateful for the ventilation while also loathing it for being an easy access point for flies. He'd come acquainted to the soft creaking of wood and boisterous voices above drowning in whatever alcohol they could scrounge up. Several days, ten since his capture and a few days on board his previous vessel had granted him the mercy of letting him adjust himself to the sway of the waves underneath them. His body ached and he wasn't sure if it was from the hard floor below him or from the moisture that was in the air. It was however a definite reminder that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

A nearer, heavier creak caught his attention and he turned his head to the source spotting a silhouette in the doorway. With the illumination of the kerosene lamp his visitor clutched he could make out the details of a familiar figure. Deeming him as non hostile he relaxed and decided to greet his company. "Come here for free entertainment? If you did I apologize. I'm not very interesting."

"I came here to give you some food" The familiar voice of the pirate who had found him in the first place spoke. "And to deliver some news. As for that second part we both know that's not true."

At the announcement of food Arthur sat upright and moved to the bars. "We'll thank you for the compliment" He murmured more focused on what the other carried then the conversation. He kept his composure despite the rumbling of his stomach, stamping down any ebbing curiosity that threatened to reveal itself. News was an inconsistency in routine that had been made over the past several days and frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that meant. "What is it this time?"

"Some dried beef and some beer today."

A little humorous and witty remark rolled off his tongue easily."You pirates' meals are quite bland, you know that don't you Alfred?"

Sensing the humor in his words Alfred chuckled. Somehow he managed to juggle the beer, meat and lamp by keeping the drink close to his body with his arm and gripping the wrapped cloth that had the dried meat with the same hand, letting the other carry the light source."You're lucky you're not eating the biscuits. The bugs like to make their homes there."

At that Arthur grunted, disgusted but not surprised. "The bugs make their homes everywhere. It doesn't surprise me they are embedded in your food as well."

"Your food now." Alfred responded with a light hearted grin deciding to take the lasting conversation as an invitation to stay. He'd done this every time he brought food and drink. Arthur held no hostility to him, not minding the company either. Afterall, if he had been in the pirates' place he would've done the same thing. Extra money wasn't something that was stumbled upon frequently. He supposed he should even be grateful that Alfred hadn't decided to shoot him right then and there. Although conversing with the man led to one of the answers he was searching for. Turns out Alfred didn't like to kill civilians if he didn't need to. At the time he had figured the situation was under control and sensing the opportunity for an ambush had done so. He'd much rather use intimidation tactics to manipulate the situation. What the quartermaster hadn't realized was that the newest edition to the crew, Jackson had been shot until after. These things tend to get lost in the chaos of gunfire and screaming.

The lamp was set down as a hand slipped between the bars with the cured meat clutched in it, which he eagerly took and was soon followed by the beer. He knew it was beneficial to them to keep him alive, however that was a very...broad term. He doubted the bounty poster specified that he had to be in pristine condition to claim the reward. So he was happy to accept some of the more quality food.

They stayed in silence for a few moments, Arthur slowly tackling the meat and washing it down with beer until Alfred broke it. "You're to be brought up to the deck today".

Upon hearing those words Arthur nearly choked on the beef, managing to swallow without incident. "What?"

Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, although had appeared concerned when the other almost choked. "I did say I had news for you."

"You could've mentioned it earlier!"

"Yeah I guess so. But then you wouldn't have eaten, insisting to go now. This way you have energy. So finish your food and then I'll bring you up."

Arthur seeing no other option simply ate a little faster.

---

Arthur was grateful for the sun's position upon stepping out onto the deck for the relative lack of light. He was sure if the sun had been higher an unforgiving headache would've blossomed behind his eyes at the sudden influx of light. His joints popped from the exercise he found himself able to partake in. It felt nice after being confined to a small cell for a little over a week. He was still weary however. Years of experience had taught him that nothing was easy in this world. Nothing was given, everything came with a price. Not even stealing was without its dues. This situation was quite the reminder.

He sensed Alfred's eyes on him and turned to look at him. It was at this moment Alfred spoke up. "Captain Williams wants to talk to you."

There it was. "Oh? And why's that?"

"That's something you'll have to ask him yourself. But don't worry! Whatever it is, it will be alright. After all, you got me on your side! I'll do my best to protect you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this statement dubiously. "My hero" he retorted with a roll of his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Alfred seemed to brighten up at that not seeming to either notice or care that it had been sarcasm. Not wanting to ruin the man's mood, Arthur wordlessly followed Alfred to the Captain's quarters. Williams was waiting for them, looking up as the door opened and Alfred greeted him. "Mr. Kirkland" Was the simple greeting he'd received. At least the captain seemed to hold a little respect for him.

Arthur gave a small nod of his head, tilting his hat in recognition. "Captain Williams. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked hoping his sarcasm from earlier didn't bleed into the words for his own sake. When he locked eyes with the older man's brown ones he was met by a stare not so unfamiliar. Experienced, calculating, straight to business. A non verbal and pointed reminder to not cross the pirate captain. He met the challenge with his own confidence only tempered as to not get on the man's bad side.

"A deal has been made between myself and Jones. You'll be considered part of the crew and will fill in for the member you shot and killed. During this time you will not take a cut of any bounty we receive until the price on your head is paid in full." The captain responded. "You may discuss Jones's part of the deal on your own time with him."

It didn't seem like he had much of a choice in the matter. Very well- he'd chose limited freedom to a cell any day. "Thank you" He said mustering up as much sincerity as he could and giving Alfred a side glance.

Alfred gave him a faint smile quickly tilting his head to motion for them to depart, thanking his captain as he did so and turning to leave the cabin. Arthur spun on his heel but before he could take a step forwards William's voice rang out again. "Oh and Kirkland, if I hear any stray word about a mutiny that has passed from your lips. I'll take your tongue."

A small sly smirk threatened to etch itself across his lips however he was smart enough to keep himself straight faced. Of the same breed indeed. "I would never even consider doing such a thing" He responded turning his head to make eye contact with the one in charge. "Thank you for your mercy, Captain. I will serve you well."

"You better. You're a three hundred dollar investment."

---

Once they were back out onto the deck a peaceful silence fell between them, Arthur relishing in his new found freedom of sorts and Alfred undecided if he should interrupt the quiet. The sun had long departed by now, leaving the celestial bodies of the stars and moon to paint the night in light. The waves below reflected this light, swirling it in unpredictable patterns before being swallowed by the depths and replaced. The temperature had dropped a few degrees but neither seemed too affected by it. The silence was broken by Alfred who found himself uncomfortable with it. "What was being a cowboy like?" He finally blurted.

Arthur looked at him startled out of his thoughts at the outburst. "Did the stories I told you when you visited with food not paint a good picture?"

"They did. I just wanted to know if you had more" Alfred responded embarrassed with himself, a faint red painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "Sounds pretty fun."

Arthur grunted graciously deciding not to comment on how red the other got. He took a moment to think of his response wording it in a way as to not get too personal. "Fun isn't what I'd describe it as. It's hard work as many things are in life. You have to be observant, be able to think on your feet. A thousand pound animal isn't going to stop stampeding because you told it to. Then combine that with upwards of a thousand other animals of the same size and the horses you're riding on top of it. It definitely makes for a good excuse to always be on guard. But generally things didn't get too exciting. The only 'exciting' thing I could count on daily was the game of: will I get bit by a snake when I get off my horse to take a piss and die a few hours later? Or on a more rare occasion, if bandits would be stupid enough to try to rob us. The real fun happened once we arrived in town after a successful transfer of cattle. Once we arrived we had to load the cows into a train cart then we got paid. After going a few weeks without a bath or proper entertainment I'm sure you can imagine what happened at the saloons" the wink accompanying that statement went unnoticed. "I'm sure you can relate to such sentiments out at sea yourself. Minus the snakes of course".

Truthfully Alfred enjoyed hearing Arthur tell his stories. He'd get so enthralled as he talked about his past experiences, spoke with a passion that let Alfred know that Arthur had enjoyed the job. It was one of the times where Arthur became truly expressive, a little less on guard. When Arthur got going his words painted such clear imagery that Alfred hadn't needed to be there to feel like he experienced it. Admittedly as much as he enjoyed hearing him talk in this moment he got… distracted. He accidently ended up staring at his lips briefly, wondering how they'd feel pressed against his own then dismissing the idea and blaming it on the fact he hadn't had much company lately. He blinked shaking his head of any stray thoughts and cleared his throat. It caught Arthur's attention but when he didn't say anything the cowboy now turned pirate continued.

"I worked in the northern plains. Montana actually. So it has taken me a while to get here. The local deputies and pinkertons had started poking around on a lead that someone matching Arthur Kirkland's description was in town. Some folk from the East must've recognized me while I was celebrating a successful drive. Upon seeing the unwanted attention I decided that frankly I have been chased enough to last a lifetime and thus my decision to come to Europe. Offered the merchant ship my gun if anything were to happen and some cash as well. However nothing is ever that simple clearly."

He partially processed the others words, nodding along but was too distracted giving the other a once over to truly hear what was being spoken. The older man's attire alone stuck out now that he had been declared part of the crew. The Englishman had a white, tall crowned hat with a narrow brim that was curled upwards on the sides. He adorned a navy pullover shirt made of cotton with a black vest made of the same material. He also wore grey wool pants with an additional layer of fabric to reinforce the seams. Of course his clothing wasn't in pristine condition, various stains and the occasional stitch from where it had been mended littered the outfit. They'd taken away the black bandana that had originally been tied around his neck, fearful that it may be used as a weapon against one of the crew or himself.

"Wait a minute Arthur. I'll be right back" Alfred chirped, turning to head underneath the deck and deeper into the ship. Arthur watched him go before turning his attention back to the ocean, focusing on the feeling of the breeze in his face and the sound of crashing waves that surrounded the ship.

Alfred returned with his bandana in tow holding it out and offering it to him. Afterall with the freedom now granted if Arthur wanted to, he'd have better things to use against them than a bandana. "You will probably need some new clothes more suitable for the sea. But for now we can't buy anything since we aren't in port and we technically aren't making anything off the next several exchanges-"

"We?"

"Oh right! I gave up my cut as well until your bounty is paid off and the credit makes a profit. Technically I promised them six hundred dollars so we're going to be living on some scraps for a while."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in suspicion and curiosity, cocking his head as he looked back to Alfred."Why go through all the trouble to save me?"

Alfred gave a disarming half smile upon sensing the others suspicion trying to prove he had no ulterior motives and a shrug. Sure he found him attractive but that was not why he saved him. "There's something about you I like. You're clearly clever, a hard worker and we needed a new member of the crew. And I think you have a story to be told. Would be a shame if it were to end prematurely."

"Don't we all have a story to tell-" He murmured, shifting his body to lean against the closest mast of the ship and crossing his arms as he was securely balanced. "And you didn't take any of the crew from the merchant ship?"

"We offered but they declined."

Arthur gave a hmph of disbelief. Pirate's tended not to give people many choices. The two options usually consisted of join their crew or die which brought the next question to mind. "Are they fish food now?"

"No, we let them go." Alfred responded. When Arthur proceeded to stare at him with his eyebrows raised for further explanation he continued. "Captain Williams tries to avoid casualties where they can be avoided. He also doesn't like to take people who are likely to turn tail at the slightest hint of freedom. Took a lot of convincing to get him to accept you for that reason. As for your job on the ship you'll have to learn how to rig the sails and some level of carpentry. If those aren't your thing perhaps you could help the doc out and learn from him- or maybe the cook."

The older male took a minute to digest this information weighing the situation. He supposed it would've worked better for him if they had been killed. There would've been fewer loose ends, less mouths to talk if the wrong parties came looking. Oh well. "And for your information I do know some carpentry and my way around a needle. Ropes shouldn't be an issue either although you'll have to teach me any particular knots you use."

"Good and no problem. Isaiah is the ship master. He can show you some duties and I'll also be helping out when I can. The others will also show you how we operate if neither of us are available. We all have a part to play after all. In reality most of our time is spent on ship maintenance."

Arthur couldn't help but be curious."You're going to have to be more specific when you mention maintenance because frankly I have no idea what that entails."

Alfred paused mentally counting off, his fingers moving from a curled position to straight as he counted with them before disregarding whatever he had been doing. "Cleaning the decks, checking rigging and ropes, checking for any potential leaks or holes and repairing them. You also eventually may get to make sure everything on the gun deck is properly stored and cleaned- just to name a few. Oh and did I mention cleaning bird shit off the deck?"

"Sounds-" a pause and despite not trying to be rude he couldn't exactly color himself enthusiastic at the prospect "...delightful. When do I begin?"

Alfred looked smug, probably happy that some of the more unpleasant tasks were going to be now dished out to the newest member of the crew. With a clap on the other's shoulder he chirped "Your duties start right now!". With that he began to back away towards the stairs leading to the lower decks.

"Wait where are you going?!"

"I'm going to sleep. Isaiah is at the stern. I'll see you in the morning!"

"Where's the stern?!" Arthur called letting his frustration seep out through his words, scowling at the retreating pirate's back. "What does Isaiah look like?"

"Guess you'll have to figure that out yourself. Goodnight Arthur!"

Cheeky bastard. He didn't even get to shave.

---

Both their hands were calloused, jagged chunks carved out of them from one experience or another. The years had only added to the collection of scars and disfigurations. The black bandana that had first accompanied the cowboy-ex-outlaw-pirate was now draped over one of each of their hands, both using their free hand to knot the material and bind themselves together. Together, promising to watch over each other despite what altercations that could find themselves apart of. In life and death they'd take care of one another.

A cheer arose from their spectators as mugs were risen and beer sloshed onto the floor which would promptly have to be scrubbed later. "How about that Mr. Outlaw. You're now properly married to a pirate however fitting that may be."

"Cowboy" Arthur corrected. "I prefer cowboy although, I suppose neither occupation is particularly civilized. And the correct term is matelotage."

"He does learn! Would you look at that" came a playful quip from one of the crew members.

"I've learned quite well. It's you who still gets confused when I rattle off cowboy terms at you." A flippant and well timed reply caused snickers to erupt amongst the band of people gathered around.

Alfred decided to interrupt after chuckling to himself. "Arthur I don't think there's a single civilized thing about you" earning a playful eye roll in response.

"I don't think either of us have ground to talk" Arthur hummed giving him a small smile. The newly wedded partook in the drinking activities and celebration for a little while until Arthur directed a suggestive and flirtatious wink towards his beloved, earning him a smirk. To further drive his intentions he gave a slight tug on their bound hands. "Boys, thank you for the celebration but I suggest you clear out of the cabins for a while. Enjoy your drinks!"

---

Alfred found himself ahead of Arthur, deciding to clear some of the rooms up ahead, his gun raised as he did so. Upon entering one he was thrown off balance as someone barreled into him from a blindspot. He stumbled but caught himself, his body twisting to take the brunt of it as his back collided with the wall and he tried to throw off his attacker. They struggled for a brief moment until Alfred found himself a second too slow. A sudden crack filled the space as the weapon was brought down against his head. A sharp pain rattled his skull causing him to fall forward as the stranger stepped away. He nearly face planted onto the wooden floor only managing to distribute some of the weight with his hands, his jaw hitting the floor and causing his teeth to clack together. He helplessly watched his weapon clang as it hit the floor and bounced out of reach. He doubted it would be of much use to him anyway with the way his vision was doubled and the room was spinning. He let out a groan as everything slowly became bearable, rolling into his side to look up at who had ambushed him.

His attacker stood over him, weapon drawn and pointing at him. Perhaps this was karma for being over confident. In a final act of bravado and defiance he stared at the other man, their gazes interlocked. His pain only manifested through a clenched jaw and partially squinted eyes, managing a cold but accepting smile. "You know I don't like killing civilians. If I were you I'd stand down." Whether the next unfolding of events was pure luck or divine intervention he wasn't sure. An echoing boom sounded from the hallway ripping through the relative quiet of the lower decks. His attacker slumped lifelessly and collapsed partially on him before he could scramble out of the way. He blinked, staring at the corpse before his attention was caught by approaching footsteps.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't share such qualms" The familiar accented voice of Arthur sounded.

Alfred scooted away from the body, a relieved smile tugging on his lips and letting his tense body now relax. Needing a reprieve from the close encounter he decided to diffuse the situation with humor. "Took you long enough. I got a smack to the head thanks to you" He said no malice or bite to his words just teasing affection. Feeling the adrenaline leave him and feeling safe with Arthur's presence he took a breath and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"You're gonna get a smack on your arse if you keep it up" The other fired back, relief flooding his voice as he moving over him and crouched beside him to inspect the wound on his head. Deciding that nothing could be done here he placed a hand on the other cheek, encouraging him to open his eyes. "You need to get up Al" He murmured, standing up to a more appropriate height to help him up. He outstretched a hand expectantly.

"That sounds kind of hot Arthur" He teased indeed, opening his eyes and taking his cowboy's hand. Once up he felt the others hand on his back to support him. He gave a grateful smile before wincing and running his hand over his left temple to see if there was any blood. Thankfully there wasn't.

"We'll try it sometime if you'd like. But for now let's focus on the task at hand. Just because I'll get your cut if you were to die does not mean I want you dead. Let's get you back to the ship to be looked at by Johnson."

"We need to-"

"The others have everything under control. You're going to the ship. End of discussion."

Alfred decided not to waste the energy with arguing especially because Arthur was right. He took half a step, stumbling as his vision doubled again. At that Arthur pressed against his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders for some extra support. "Thank you" he whispered, enjoying the others' warmth. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle kiss to the right temple.

"A reminder not to go too far ahead alone next time."

"Of course my love" He agreed. When they reached the doorway sunlight flooded Alfred's vision. He hissed squeezing his eyes closed upon finding a newfound sensitivity to the light. Arthur paused and shifted around a moment before he felt something pressed to the top of his head. He opened his eyes slowly, the sunlight limited by the narrow brimmed hat on his head. It was a little small but it would do. Alfred found himself grateful for the fact Arthur incorporated his old attire with a more seaworthy one.

---

All Alfred knew was that the sensation of having Arthur over him, the other pinning his arms above his head while their lips captured each other's hungrily was addicting. No matter how many times they'd done it for the past few years, it always managed to thrill him to no end. The way their bodies arched into one another, lips worshiping and marking everywhere they possibly could. And afterwards basking in glory as they settled down from their escapades. Surely they realized that with the life they lead they sacrificed the longevity of it to do so. But they could at least enjoy each other until the end of it.

#usuk week #ukus #usuk #I decided to switch up their roles with the added bonus of outlaw #cw: gun violence #cw: guns #cw: minor charcater death #cw: age gap #cw: suggestive #cw: mentions of insects #cw: mentions of robbery #still hesitant to post because I feel like the pacing is all off #cw: charcater held prisoner

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jjk-anime-horray · 4 years ago

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Fists Colliding and Fancy Collections

Dazai Osamu x Reader x Oda Sakunosuke

Series Summary: While Dazai finally gets over the death of his friend and moves on with his life, he has to watch him unnaturally return into the would, and now he has to watch him turn twisted and into everything he hated in a way.

Chapter Summary: You finally convince Chuuya to let you attend the auction, but nothing could have predicted what was going to happen.

Trigger Warnings: Emotional trauma, mentions of extreme violence, mentions of emotional distress, mentions of illegal activities, and strong language.

Previous Chapter: Bringing Pinot Noir

I'm surprised that you were the one to punch the idiot in the face (Y/N) Flashed up on your phone's screen shortly after you sent him the footage he asked before he would give you his assistance.

Well I had to get the footage some how....

and frankly I wasn't going to wait around for the possibility of someone else doing it

I just made sure it happened! was your reply to port mafia executive's text, but when you were typing it made you think back to the betrayal that you inflicted on your friend.

Flashback....

"Ranpo, are you ready?" You whispered to the immature detective genius that was currently holding up his phone ready for recording.

"Of course I am, you're getting me some snacks after this right?"He whisper quipped back.

"Yes i'm! SHSSSH, SHSSSH." The two of you lunged behind a desk, to stalk your target, and ready your attack.

Dazai waltzed in humming into the room with airpods in, like a gazelle completely unsuspecting to the lion stalking him.

"Woah Woah yeah~, Shinju wa, Hitori de wa, Dekinai HMPFHH"

You had pounced from behind the desk with the veracity of a tiger, leaping towards Dazai. So fast that before he could even react your fist had collided with the side of his face, effectively knocking the airpods out of his ear, and sending him crashing to the floor wide eyed as what seemed to him to be in complete slow motion.

All the while Ranpo was recording.

Present Time...

A Deal is a Deal. The red head texted back to your response, you could literally see the smug smile from watching the video, lucky when you told Dazai why you punched him he didn't get too made at you.

We'll meet up on the day of the event.

See you then, btw make sure you wear something really nice it's very high end so make sure you look your best. Chuuya texted.

You responded with a Roger that before you shut off your phone, and bounced up to search for Yosano so she could help you find a suitable look for the auction you were going to attend. Springing off of the balls of your feet as you waltzed off to find her.

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

"Fancy clothes are always so uncomfortableeeeee." You complained to the red haired man currently leading you out of his car to the auction.

"Baka, I don't care whether or not you're comfortable, you look nice now stop complaining."

"Did the Chuuya Nakahara just compliment me, i'm so honored to be the receiver of this gift of kindness."

"(Y/N) sometimes you're even worse than Dazai."

"You wound me."

Those were the final words you said as you finally passed security and took your seats. The auditorium you were currently sitting in resembles more of an opera symphony hall than an auction room. Roman columns adorned the sides of the room, and paintings of greek gods and goddesses washed across the ceiling. Hinting that the broker or art you were looking for either European or worked for one because of the art style being so unlike japan's.

"The only way you're going to be able to meet the broker is if you buy something, you know that right?"

The red head was the one to break your train of thought, but starting another in the process, but you thought of a different alternative.

"I can just go back with you if you buy something, I am you're plus one after all."

"Who said I was going to buy anything??!?"

"You literally are the one who had the initial invite, they wouldn't have invited you if you didn't display it in the first place."

"That aside, who said I am going to walk home with anything, it's an auction it's not guaranteed you'll even get anything."

That made you pause, he was right, just because you're here doesn't mean your going to be able to get anything, and all of the rich people attending already is going to make your chances even lower than they already were.

"If we pooled both of our money, and bid high on a more low quality item we have a good shot at obtaining something."

"Who said I would ever agree to that."

"I never said you would, but i'm pretty sure that you came for the free fine wine hand-outa and not the actual art." You said in a matter of factly tone while gesturing to the wine glass currently resting in his hand.

"Whatever, fine, but i'm not going to bet on something if it's completely ugly, it has to have a little bit of appeal to it, and i'm keeping the piece of art afterwards."

"Deal."

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

After about being an hour into the auction the both of you started to get awfully bored, simply because well it was quite boring. You would think there would be a tiny bit more energy, but alas the only thing interesting that happened was two trust fund boy getting into a fistfight over a girl, who clearly wasn't interested in either of them. You shot her an apologetic look because it had to be an unpleasant situation for her. Sometime you just wanted to bitchslap some people, and frankly currently you were mentally beating up those two boys.

It only got better after that because all the items that were being displayed just hadn't been remotely appealing to you two, yet they sold off.

Currently being two hours in with no end in sight the two of you regret your decision to come in the first place, so does Chuuya as of now he's on his second glass of wine.

Three hours in your just about to lose your mind, so you settle on attempting to bid on a little abstract palette knife painting that actually was very intriguing, and surprisingly you actually successfully landed the bid because it wasn't extravagant enough for the other people currently sitting in the audience. You even didn't dig out of Chuuya's pocket either. The little square shaped canvas fascinated you. The multi colored flecks danced across the like star at night combined with the colors of the autumn season and shadows. It wasn't mean't to depict anything in particular, nor was it much, but there was just something about it that you could keep away from it.

Four hours in Chuuya is definantly tipsy, and working on his fourth glass of wine. So you made the decision to take away his drinking privileges until he's more sober for the time being. Then while waiting for the event too end so you can pick up the paint (and questioning the broker while you're picking it up from him) you decide to take a nap.

Your eyes started to drift shut, leaning against the velvety chair you sink back into it trying to find a position that won't cramp your neck. When it finally perfect you started to drift off, trying to kill some time in between waiting periods.

But before you could fully achieve that your eyes shot open to the sound of a BOOM.

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silverypurple-rosedlions · 4 years ago

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓾𝓻𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

• Activated on August, 22, 2020 •

• Redesigned on October 8, 2020 •

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

🛑DISCLAIMER 1/2🛑: These chatbots do NOT represent Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Wonwoo, Jihoon, Minghao, Mingyu, Seokmin, Seventeen, and Pledis in any shape or form. Neither do I claim to be them. This is purely made for entertainment and fiction purposes.

🛑DISCLAIMER 2/2🛑: I am not licensed in psychology, nor am I studying it as part of my education. But, I am studying it in my free time and I am learning about each disorder to the best of my abilities. What will be mentioned is based on true information from those who have studied, or have that disorder.

🛑Trigger Warning🛑: This will contain strong language, mentions of violence and gore, and especially mental illnesses. If you are uncomfortable with the following topics, do not proceed any further for your safety. If you wish to only know small information about the members, you are more than welcomed to avoid reading their quoted and mental and physical illnesses, but do acknowledge that they have them.

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

𝕭𝖔𝖘𝖘

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"You know boys, I'm getting real tired over all this bullshit. So... Have at it. Free for all! Witness our bloody parade, you filthy shits! Let us bring you the blessing of eternal slumber from this tainted world!"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Yoon Jeonghan

[Alias]: Angel; Angel of Death

[Soon-To-Be Husband]: Hong Joshua Jisoo

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Depression: A disorder that causes the person constant feelings of sadness, unmotivation, discouragement, and lost of interest in daily activities. It affects feelings and behavior, leading to numerous emotional and physical complications.

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis): A mental disorder where a person feels detached from reality; disconnected with reality and more invested into a fabricated reality created by the brain.

Schizophrenia: A disorder, a psychotic disorder, that disrupts how the person thinks, feels, and behaves. The fabricated reality created by the brain affects this, altering all three listed.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): A disorder in which a person has difficulty recovering from past events in their lives that impacted them negatively; an event that was extremely terrifying.

[Facts]:

-> Due to past events, Jeonghan has trust issues. Until the person proves that they are harmless to him and his group, Jeonghan will be distant and blunt, making sharp remarks and will push the person away if they aren't of any use to his group.

-> As a side effect from Schizophrenia, Jeonghan is known to repeatedly tap the temple of his head, twitching and jerking. If irritated, he will begin to tap violently to the point he's inflicting pain to himself, such as: pulling hair, slamming hands against his head, digging his nails into his body, and more.

-> His past is a very sensitive topic for him. He will not answers or explain his past unless you have gained his full trust. If asked constantly, Jeonghan will not hesitate into inflicting pain due to being triggered. So do NOT question his past until close with him.

-> Due to a failed experiment meant to help Jeonghan with his beginning stages of Schizophrenia, Jeonghan's eyes are able to go blue. This being referred by all members as, "blue eyes." When in this state, Jeonghan loses all senses of the world around him, encased in his episode, and will attack anything and anyone until episode is over, or is calmed.

𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖘𝖘

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"I may not be as psychotic as my lover, and I seem sweeter than some. But that does not mean I'll let you live another day... Instead, I'll make sure you're real pretty. I'll make SURE to create a beautiful bouquet of flowers and YOUR intestines while your body is as empty as your HEART,"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Hong Joshua Jisoo

[Alias]: Joshua

[Companion]: Yoon Jeonghan

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Bipolar Disorder (Manic Depression): A disorder when a person's moods swing easier than usual, ranging from depressive lows to manic highs; from feeling depression to suddenly feeling euphoria, feeling energized and creative, but to a higher extent.

Anxiety Disorder: A mental disorder in which feelings such as anxiety, fear, and worry are heightened, becoming strong enough to create issues within a person's daily life. This can also lead to side effects such as: hyperventilating, fatigue, sweating, insomnia, lack of concentration, and more.

[Facts]:

-> Joshua is Jeonghan's main pillar, the only one who has the largest impact on the Boss and is able to calm Jeonghan from Schizophrenic episodes quicker than the rest.

-> Joshua is one of the friendliest members in The Purple Rose. He's easier to approach, but do not underestimate him. Sometimes, buried underneath his sweet smile and kind words is a beast that is feared by everyone.

-> Joshua is one, out of two people, who had sent Jeonghan in a Mental Asylum in hopes that they could help him. But it failed, and Joshua still feels guilty for sending Jeonghan to a horrendous place, despite receiving forgiveness when the two reunited.

-> When nervous and anxious, Joshua's eyes will dart around the room, looking at various objects and people to calm himself. That, or he will turn to Jeonghan, the members, or listen to music to ground himself.

-> It may not seem like it, but Joshua has slight yandere tendencies that are very rare to see. But he will become jealousy and "territorial" over Jeonghan, being that many attempt to seduce the Boss for their personal gain.

𝕾𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖗/𝕾𝖕𝖞

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"Even though I may seem like I'm given the less "exciting" job today, doesn't mean I can't have my own type of fun with this. And since you tried to scam us with these useless supplies and weapons, I guess I'll have my pleasure in blasting your brains to bits thinking we were gullible, sir. I'll make sure no one will be able to know who you are when I'm through with you."

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Wen Junhui

[Alias]: Jun

[Soon-To-Be Husband]: Jeon Wonwoo (@seventeen-chatbot)

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis)

Schizophrenia

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

[Facts]:

-> Due to Schizophrenia, Jun has the habit of constantly moving, such as: bouncing legs, twitching and jerking, and tapping his fingers on a flat surface. Some say he picked up the habit of tapping on flat surfaces from Jeonghan, who constantly taps his temples.

-> Jun is known to be the second member of The Purple Rose to be the messiest with his victims, following Jeonghan. He's known for tearing people apart, whether they're alive or already dead.

-> So far, Jun is prohibited from any interaction with children due to his violent tendencies to them. But it is unknown as to why children trigger him.

-> Jun learned Kung Fu and Martial Arts during his youth, using that to his advantage if ever his weapons are restricted from him.

-> Jun is known for copying others sayings and actions, such as small gestures and few sentences or words, repeating them without knowing so, being that it became his habit.

𝕹𝖊𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗/𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖔𝖚𝖙

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"Listen, and listen well, because I don't want to repeat this again. You made a FUCKING deal. You promised that you'll pull through your end of the bargain as we did. So if you can't give the shit we requested, the deal is off. Your area is now OURS, and frankly, we have a BETTER person to run that waste of space you've created. So, nighty night BASTARD. Say hi to Satan for us,"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Jeon Wonwoo

[Alias]: Wonwoo

[Companion]: None

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Dissociative Identity Disorder (D.I.D): A disorder in where the brain creates other alters/identities to distribute trauma to, so that the main person, the host, is protected from past events that occured in their life that they aren't able to handle alone.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD)

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis)

Hand Tremors: An movement disorder within the body, most commonly in the hands but can occur in other body parts. An involuntary, rhythmic muscle contraction that causes shaking. Can happen every now and then, or constantly.

[Facts]:

-> In total, Wonwoo has 17 alters. But 5 main alters are known to front most often, being the main protectors of the body:

-> It was rumoured that Wonwoo was plotting to take the role as leader of The Purple Rose, eliminating Yoon Jeonghan. But it was never confirmed.

-> Due to poor eyesight, Wonwoo is required to wear glasses. But when doing work and handling targets, Wonwoo will not need them. Strange as it is, his eyes sharpen, narrowing on his target no matter the distance as his adrenaline kicks in.

-> Despite being a negotiator, dealing with men and women within casinos, Wonwoo despises gambling. He can't tolerate the smell of strong alcohol, betting, and smoke.

-> Among the eight members, Wonwoo is the best when handling treatments such as severe wounds. He knows what to use, how to use it, and how long it'll take to heal, or, at least an estimated time.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖗𝖊

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"I'm getting sick and tired with your babbling, you know that? I don't like wasting my time on people who can't pull their shit together, or ones who have no real benefit to the Purple Rose. So, I'm going to do us both the favor and end this short. But with a loud bang!"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Lee Jihoon

[Alias]: Jihoon

[Companion]: Kim Inseong (@heartbrokenxinseong)

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis)

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD)

[Facts]:

-> Jihoon is the Representative of The Purple Rose, always attending meetings that they are requested to attend, and taking in all information and then explaining it to the Boss and Underboss, Jeonghan and Joshua.

-> Jihoon's main job is to not only process information, but to plan each mission, and how they will carried out. It has been his job since the start of The Purple Rose.

-> Jihoon has severe trust issues, becoming skeptical and defensive of himself and others around him, sometimes lashing out.

-> Jihoon does not accept being called "cute." Despite his height, Jihoon is hostile, and will not hesitate to attack.

-> It is rare that Jihoon participates in outdoor activities with the group, usually locked inside his room handling missions and piles of work that is handed to him.

𝕳𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗/𝕾𝖕𝖞

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"Although I had a great time with you, fellas, I have to get going. I can't let my boss and the boys wait any longer now that you're of no more use to us. To keep this our secret like yours with your team and boss, I'm going to put you to eternal sleep, and I'll make sure your body doesn't go to waste,"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Xu Minghao

[Alias]: Minghao; The Ghost

[Companion]: Kim (Jeewon) Jiwon (@90sjeewonie)

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Shared Psychotic Disorder: An unusual mental disorder of a person sharing a delusion among two or more people who are in a close relationship. The (inducer, primary) who has a psychotic disorder with delusions influences the other, or more (induced, secondary) with a specific belief.

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis)

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

[Facts]:

-> Minghao never had intentions of joining The Purple Rose, or joining in any infamous activities. But, because he was influenced and close with Jun, he didn't have any other option but to became a member, sharing Jun's Schizophrenia.

-> Minghao is a cannibal, and has been since the age of 17. He tends to make comments now and then on people, wondering what they would taste like but will not pursue them depending his relationship with them.

-> He knows how to use all technology, creating his own softwares and bots to use as assistance in missions. He's crafty, and with Jun and Mingyu's help, he creates his own unique gadgets that are used frequently.

-> He's a top spy, always assigned 90% of the time to missions that include entering into the building, stealing, and deceit. When doing this, he temporarily dyes his hair a different color.

-> He's known as The Ghost due to appearing in one area, then suddenly disappearing without a trace, later appearing again and rendering targets without a sound.

𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉/𝕰𝖝 𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖘𝖘

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"I may not be an Underboss anymore, but just because I've been placed as a bodyguard doesn't mean I'm no longer the man you once feared, pal. How about you show me what you got before I leap and rip off those limbs of yours? Or should we just get to the ripping limbs part already?

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Kim Mingyu

[Alias]: Mingyu

[Companion]: Choi (Arin) Yewon (@arinschoi)

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

Psychotic Disorder (Psychosis)

PTSD

[Facts]:

-> Originally, Mingyu was supposed to be eliminated by Jeonghan, due to abandoning Jeonghan, who was caught and brought back to the Asylum in 2016. But, Jeonghan spared him, removing him from Underboss and placing him as a Bodyguard.

-> Mingyu's main priority is to not only protect the members, but most importantly, protect the Boss, the Underboss, and the Consigliere, who are the ones functioning the entire organization.

-> Mingyu is known to be the cleanest member, always cleaning after them and doing normal house chores that he's mistaken to be a germaphobic. But compare it to his work, Mingyu gets reckless when handling victims, creating a mess.

-> Aside from working as a Bodyguard, Mingyu acts as a spy and seducer. But it is only in rare cases will Mingyu be required to be a seducer, but does not engage in s*xual activities, getting the job done before it gets serious.

-> Is known to be Jeonghan's "ex-partner/companion" due to a past struggle the two were under. During that time, Mingyu acted as Jeonghan's significant other, but Jeonghan did not reciprocate the feelings and continued on with work to the best of his abilities.

𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗/𝕽𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

"I had fun doing our little game of cat and mouse, but I'm starting to get tired, mouse! And you look just as tired as I am, right? So, do me a favor of standing still, smiling at me, and letting me gut you out. I'll make sure to bury you somewhere nice with some purple roses. A reminder that you never FUCK with the Purple Rose, scumbag,"

◈ ━━━━━━🥀━━━━━━ ◈

[Name]: Lee Seokmin

[Alias]: Seokmin

[Companion]: Byun Baekhyun (@ghoulxbaekhyun)

[Characteristics]:

[Mental and Physical Illnesses]:

ADHD: A chronic condition including attention difficulty, hyperactivity, and impulsiveness, which begins during childhood and into adulthood. Effects self-esteem, education and work, and relationship

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD)

[Facts]:

-> Seokmin is a cannibal, beginning this at the age of 18. It is unknown why he followed Minghao, both becoming the only two who devoured people, but one thing is for sure. He doesn't always eat victims, but he won't hesitate to take a bite.

-> Being a navigator, Seokmin is excellent in tracking and finding secluded places, especially places that are illegal and are infamous around the network: casinos, mafia basses, closed off buildings used for selling drugs, and more. And as a Runner, it is Seokmin's job to take all that The Purple Rose gains from a mission, escaping the scene with the objects if ever they were caught or were on the run. This also places him as the Getaway Driver, despite being a reckless driver.

-> Seokmin can be easily persuaded if lured into the trap by the right bait. But no offer can make him betray The Purple Rose, especially never betraying the Boss, the Underboss, and Consigliere. He follows their orders strictly, despite bending the rules.

-> Seokmin may be the sweetest and bubbliest member in the group, but he has his equal share, perhaps more than some members, of having a sinister side to him. When making gruesome comments, he always says them with a big, bright smile.

-> Seokmin despises usage of drugs and alcohol. He'll drink now and then, but no more than two cups. Sometimes, Seokmin is triggered by certain drugs, causing him to become bitter and sharp, sometimes picking fights he doesn't mean to create.

✨OG✨// @yanlee

🥀// @empress-jiaqi @criminalinvestigator-mingyu @princess-yeji @doll-seungmin @doll-hyunjin @peachy-jaemjaemin @storybook-nct @deadly-skz-gods-cb @babyhj1sung @yandere-somi-jeon @dandyboy-seungmin @detectivexsicheng @time-for-confession @adoringeun @shinhaneul-oc @split-jiu @domyukhei @joyinwonderland @mafia-chaeyoung @mafiafelixlee @moonlit-jaemin @purgejaemin @floristluda @yoonhana @ateez-zombie-wonderland @ghost-hyunjin @vscohyunjin @moonlit-nono @cb-dungeon @daddysm @amazingspiderhan @heiress-yeeun @babyboynono @blackwidowjennie @roseanneholmes @fairy-dejun @skz-cb @vampiremomo @vampireprince-jeonghan @college-baekhyun @hunter-chaeyoung @julia-oc @moonlightchris @weeb-wonwoo and more . . .

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blueeyedheizer · 4 years ago

Text

sound of metal - matt

WARNING: might contain some triggering topics (talks of surgery, hearing loss)

A/N: this movie was so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time I had to write something based on it. (excuse the crappy ending) If you haven't seen sound of metal...go watch it nowww

•••

Matt had been acting strange lately. Wether it was during sound check or while you were performing in front of a crowd, he seemed off and completely out of it everytime you shot a glance his way.

Today wasn't any different and you were starting to grow seriously worried. You and your band were performing in front of your biggest crowd yet; the band was getting more and more recognition and people were quick to spread the word about your small tour. It even got to the point where people would take pictures with you and buy your merch after the show. Quite frankly, everything was going well and it was a dream come true.

But when you looked at Matt, it seemed like he wasn't handling things as well as you did. At first, you thought that it might only be stage fright. You weren't really used to such big venues, and it would've made sense that he feels some kind of discomfort in front of an important audience. Yet he never spoke to any of you about it, and you knew he would've at least told you if that was the case.

So when you looked over your shoulder in the middle of the fourth song and caught sight of him you immediately sensed that once again, something wasn't right. He looked almost terrified, you could tell his breathing was heavy and that it wasn't just because of the drums. You tried to contain your worry and focus on your singing, but you kept a mental note to talk to him after the show. You couldn't just sit there and keep pretending everything was alright when he was clearly hiding something from you.

But before you even had the time to move on from your thoughts Matt suddenly stormed out of the stage, his drumsticks falling to the floor while he pushed a few people on his way out. Your heart pounded hard against your chest as you were hit with a wave of anxiety, then with a small apology to the crowd and a worried glance at your bandmates you followed him.

Within seconds you were bursting through the back doors, running after him.

"Matt! Matthew, what the hell?" you called, running to his side. He was bent down, hands resting on his knees as he panted hard. You placed your hands on his shoulders and he eventually stood up straight before leaning against the fence. "Baby, what's wrong?" you placed your hands on his cheeks, your thumbs stroking his skin as your eyes searched for his.

"I can't hear anything." he admitted, voice cracking.

"What?"

"I can't hear anything."

You just picked at your food, not hungry due to how anxious you felt. You could barely register anything else than the sound of your heartbeat, the sounds of muffled talking, plates and glasses clinking from the restaurant being completely drowned out by your nagging thoughts.

"What are we gonna do?" James eventually spoke up.

"I don't know James. I really don't know." you put your fork down and buried your face in your hands, finally letting a few tears slip. You leg was bouncing repeatedly, heart beating a million miles a minute. After taking a deep breath, you grabbed the pen and paper that were in front of you and wrote something down.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you slid the paper across the table so that Matt could read it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I didn't want you to worry about it. It's nothing. It'll come back eventually." he said, but you were far from satisfied with his answer. You squeezed your eyes shut.

"What did the doctor say?" once again, you slid the paper across the table.

"There's a surgery. An implant. It's— it's expensive but I'll get it."

"Y/N, there's no way he'll be able to afford it." James whispered. You glanced at him and nodded, knowing damn well you'd never be able to earn so much money in such a short amount of time. You were just a small band, earning a salary worth of such surgery would take an excessive amount of work and time. Noticing the worried look on everyone's face, Matt broke the silence and grabbed your hand.

"Look— we'll play tomorrow and see how it's like. It'll come back. It's fine baby, my hearing's not completely gone. okay? I can do it." Matt said, and you shook your head.

"No."

"We have a tour booked."

"Matt, it's not safe." you tried to reason with him as more tears welled in your eyes.

"We have a tour booked, Y/N, I'll just deal with it, I can do it!"

"No, Matt. We can't." you removed your hand from his hold.

"It'll come back!"

"For God's sakes Matt, it's not safe!" you finally raised your voice, fist colliding with the table as you flopped back against your seat. Your bandmates flinched and some waitresses and customers turned to you, thinking a fight had broke out. You apologized quietly, not even loud enough for any of them to hear before grabbing the pen.

"We're not finishing the tour. You can barely hear a word we're saying. We're not finishing it." you put the pen down and got up, gathering your things before turning to James and Alex. "I'll call the manager and see what we can do."

And with that, you left the dinner without a word.

Fortunately, your manager was very understanding of the situation and helped you with everything you needed. He got you in contact with a friend of his who ran a small community in which Matt would be able to attend meetings and learn sign language.

You called the man immediately after finishing the call with your manager, wanting to get this done as soon as possible. You were hit with a wave of relief when he told you he would be more than willing to welcome Matt, as long as he complied with the rules that were imposed there. But getting Matt to understand that this wasn't just a small hearing loss and that he needed help was another story.

"I'm not going, Y/N. God, it— it doesn't even bother me that much! I can still play!" he said and you shook your head, lowering it afterwards. You had never seen him so agitated, and no matter how hard he tried to convince you that he was okay, you could see right through him. His hearing loss was in fact bothering him, he just wouldn't admit it. "Baby I know our songs by heart, we could just—"

"Matt, stop. Just stop." you interrupted him. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes and it was getting harder to hold them back. He scoffed, burying his hands in his hair.

"Matt. Please. Just look at me." you placed your index finger under his chin, forcing him to look at you. "The most important thing right now is to preserve the hearing you have left. Okay?" your hand slid to his cheek, wiping a tear before pecking his lips. "I love you so much, baby. And that's why I'm not leaving you the choice. We're cancelling the tour, and you're going to let these people take care of you." you told him, making sure to speak clearly.

-time skip-

Those 6 months spent away from him were hard. The members of the community he was in all lived in one house together with no contact to the outside world - which meant no phones allowed. It was a rule that you had agreed on committing to, but you hadn't anticipated how awfully long these months would actually be. Performing without him was something you couldn't get used to. You had found a new drummer for the time he was gone, but it was different. You were so used to Matt's energy, his way of playing, and the boy was nothing like him. He was really nice and Alex and James seemed to get along well with him, but this band wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Matt, therefore performing his songs without him felt wrong.

You had no idea what the future was going to look like, wether it was regarding the band or your relationship. You had no idea how Matt was doing. For all you knew he could be at his lowest point and you weren't there for him. Or maybe he was having an amazing time, and you couldn't shut off this nagging voice in the back of your head that kept telling you he might've met someone new.

You were walking home from work, looking forward to leave this long day behind you and get some well deserved rest. You greeted your dad and was about to make your way to your room, but his voice stopped you in your tracks before you could leave.

"Y'a Matt qui t'attends dans ta chambre." (Matt's waiting for you in your room.)

"Quoi?" (What?)

"Il est arrivé y'a une heure ou deux. Je lui ait dit de rester là en attendant que t'arrives." (He arrived about an hour or two ago. I told him to stay there and wait for you.)

You tried to contain your excitement in front of him, but your heart felt like it was about to burst inside your chest.

"Okay, cool. Merci."

With that, you left the kitchen and made your way upstairs hurriedly, heart beating faster with every step you took.

Finally, you opened the door to your room and your eyes immediately caught Matt's figure. He was sitting on your bed, a book in hands as he waited for you. You stayed at the door for a small instant, grinning warmly as he looked up, allowing you to finally make eye contact.

"Hi. Can you hear me?"

Matt set the book down and nodded, then you walked over to him, standing between his legs. You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, taking in all of him. His hair was a bit longer than the last time you had seen him.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too."

You leaned in and pressed your lips together for the first time in five months, your hands sliding to the back of his head as the kiss deepened. You pulled away after a little less than a minute, catching your breath.

"What are you doing here? How— how did you afford it?" you asked a bit awkwardly, referring to his surgery as you noticed the implants on his ear.

"I had to sell my stuff." he shugged. "Guitars, synth, my car. Anything I could find, really." he chuckled sadly, lowering his head. Your face dropped at his words and a small silence settled in the room before he broke it with the smallest voice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey...there's nothing to apologise for." you said, lifting his chin up to peck his lips once again. He shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you as tears welled up in his eyes. Then he climbed further up the bed silently, his back now resting against the headboard. You followed, situating yourself next to him.

"I ruined everything. The tour, the band, us." Everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. You couldn't control what happened, Matt. You know that." you tried to comfort him, scratching the back of his head with your fingertips. He scoffed a bit at your answer, still avoiding eye-contact.

"I can't get back to drumming, Y/N. I can never go back to how my life was before."

There was a pause before he finally dared to look at you. His eyes were red from holding back tears, cheeks streaked and flushed, the sight causing your face to visibly soften. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead you looked down, fidgeting with the ring on your index finger and the room went silent. You knew things would never be the same, but you still took the news like a bullet. A couple more seconds passed and you took a small breath before climbing onto his lap gently.

A bitter, sad smile curved on your lips as you looked at him, hands cupping both sides of his head, gently rubbing your thumbs and occasionally wiping a few tears from his cheeks while you fought with great difficulty to hold yours in. First you kissed his forehead then you rested yours against it, noses brushing.

"I love you." you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt a tear escape and roll down your cheek. "I love you so much."

You pulled away just a bit and signed "I love you" to him in sign language to emphasise your words. He signed it back to you and you wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your chest as you mumbled comforting words, your hands rubbing his back and hair soothingly as you cried silently.

#blueeyeddean #matt

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 6 years ago

Text

I Am Not Living, I Am Surviving Hug Me Michael x Reader

Warnings: this theme deals with depression and thoughts of suicide which could be triggering for some.

A/N: as someone that deals with depression I felt compelled to post this. Michael helps Y/N during her depressive episode, the reader (much like me tends to shut people out especially when things get difficult so I feel this on a personal level). Hope you guys take the time to read this as it is kinda personal for me, thanks guys and please let me know what you think. Note the lyrics used are from Britta Phillips version of the song Drive

youtube

//who's gonna tell you when

it's too late

who's gonna tell you things

aren't so great

you can't go on

thinking nothing's wrong

who's gonna drive you home tonight//

I was not alone, that there was someone somewhere who was able to articulate the seething, jumbled, brutal, pre-linguistic, thrashing, writhing, hazing, dulling pounding in my head. It wasn't just me. That single thought was the most important thing in the world to me, sometimes the one thing that kept me alive – a single false note of optimism would have shattered it all for me, left me thinking yes, it really is just me – the words people offer me really are just that, words, the hope they contain utterly irrelevant because they relate to an experience that is not mine.

‘I put on a brave front' it had been so easy to hide how I truly felt, laugh, joke act like I was completely fine. But truth was I knew deep down inside I wasn't masking it would only work for so long. I was rapidly sliding deeper and deeper into a very dark space. My symptoms got worse and soon I found it too difficult to even get up and out of bed in the morning.

‘You feel nothing. You shut down completely. There is no happiness, no sadness, nothing. You feel zero.’ Depression is not something that can be brushed away with a smile, or shooed away with a pat on the back. It’s something more deeper and profound. There’s no gadget to test which person is suffering from what type of depression, and there’s no instrument to measure the extent of depression.

Statistics say that as many as 1 in 4 of us will experience a mental health problem at some point in our lives. That means you know someone—probably several someones—with depression, anxiety, an eating disorder or something else. Isolation can have a crushing effect on a lot of people. Some people thrive on it, but humans on the whole are a social bunch and need to interact with others. When that isn’t possible, it’s easy to feel that the walls are closing in. But honestly all I was good at doing is pushing people away, I am afraid if they get to close if they see really see what I am going through that they might abandon me because it may end up being way too much for them.

I kept a diary somehow it felt safer to write down my thoughts, the one person I should be honest with is Michael but I honestly couldn't bring myself to do it. Would he be hurt? Would he hate me? So many thoughts in the back of my mind I pushed them away. I scribbled furiously in the journal and tossing it aside. Normally I hid it under a loose floorboard in our bedroom but on this night not giving it so much as a second thought I feel asleep journal wide open. Y/N didn't hear Michael when he walked in, he looked at you you were fast asleep. He noticed the leather bound book that laid open by your sleeping form. He didn't want to invade your privacy but something alerted him that something was on deed wrong. He looked at the small paragraph scrawled on the page, his face froze in fear at the words before him.

Dear Michael.

I've been thinking about ending my life. I don't know why I can't talk to you in person, so I bought this Diary in the case that I do end up killing myself you will know why I did what I did and that you cannot blame yourself. Michael you are the reason I am still here. for now. But the voices in my head are so strong and the pain that it is inflicting on me everyday, one more thing and I feel like I won't be able to hold on, but I will for you Michael I will try my best for you.

Yours Truly,

Y/F/N Y/L/N

Depression is a hole and I'm slowly falling in trying to claw out and everyone I love is just standing there watching. Honestly I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep 'acting’ like I was ok when deep down inside I wanted to end it, quiet the voices leave the pain behind that quite frankly I felt like I was drowning in.

I opened my eyes I don't know how long I had been asleep or even what time it was. I looked to see Michael's concerned expression his piercing blue eyes felt like they had penetrated my soul. There my journal sat in his lap, Michael let out a breath attempting to steady himself. “Why won't you talk to me Y/N, tell me that something was wrong?” I couldn't even open up my mouth to speak it was like I lost all nerve to even respond. My first instinct was to bolt, I sat up quickly turning my body away from him. I wasn't able to even make it to the edge of the bed, Michael grabbed my arm “Y/N please talk to me don't shut me out!”

Michael's breathing started to get heavier as his eyes started to well up. Y/N looked at Michael, saying nothing. He wondered what she was thinking. Finally, after a few moments, she started sobbing, and she leaned into him. Michael immediately pulled her into his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder, and struggling not to cry himself. ‘I was tired of feeling helpless. I had to do something, anything.’ ‘I remember that exact moment as the one where I started to feel good about myself again, I just wish it could've lasted longer…

There was another moment of silence, this one longer than the last, "I tried to tell myself that you'd get better, that you would get back to normal but the truth is I didn't know that. I didn't know if you'd get better, you can't keep doing this to yourself Y/N, what if I never see you again! And the thought of everyone else just going on with their lives made me sick! So yeah,I am angry, and I am scared… I didn't know what the fuck I am supposed to do!" Michael's voice finally broke as tears streamed down his face. Y/N, with tears in her own eyes, finally stood up. She pressed her forehead against Michael's and placed her hands on the sides of his head. ‘But most of all, I knew, come what may, I had at least one safe harbor.’ I looked up at Michael the look was unmistakable.

‘I'll never forget what I saw at that moment, looking into Michael's eyes.’

‘He loved me. This sweet, perfect man… loved me.’

After staring at him for another moment that seemed to last forever, she finally leaned in and kissed him. He quickly began kissing her back. The two of them continued this until it started to grow more heated, with the two of them running their hands over each other, and Michael kissing along the side of her neck.

He pulled back after a minute and looked at her.

"Are you… are you sure this is okay?" he asked, breathing heavily.

Y/N gave Michael a smile.

"I'm sure," I said.

‘That wasn't entirely true. I wasn't sure, or rather I wasn't sure if I was sure.but I didn't know if that made a difference. I knew I wanted it to be okay this time.’

The two of them resumed, even more passionately this time. They began removing clothes and letting their hands roam over more of more of each other…

‘More than anything, I wanted it to be okay this time. I remember thinking, please, please, let it be okay this time.’

Michael continued kissing Y/N, who leaned her head back as the feelings came over her…

‘But it wasn't okay’

I inhaled sharply…

‘It was perfect.’

2 weeks later…

"How is Y/N?" Gallant ask, suddenly looking at Michael with concern on his face.

Michael hesitated. He came here to help Gallant with an issue with his salon , not unload his own worries onto him. Still, lying to him didn't feel right either.

"I don't know, really," Michael finally said. "She just doesn't seem to want to open up. I know she's been having a really hard time." Michael gave Gallant a slight smile. “I think it's just going to take time.” Gallant responded softly.

‘The day were getting... bearable.’

‘So were the days after that, and the next after that.’

‘Michael found me a new doctor. A bit further away, but worth the trip. I was able to open up to her a little.’

‘Still, I couldn't shake this feeling that there was something I was supposed to do, but at first, I couldn't figure out what it was.’

‘But gradually I started to notice something…’

‘...something I couldn't shake once I noticed them.,

‘The signs.’

‘The ones most people didn't see. The ones no one saw in me until it was almost too late.’

Michael wiped one last tear rolling down his face and closed his eyes.

“Please live for me Y/N," he said, softly. “Stay with me, I love you."

Y/N sighed in relief.

‘All I could do after that was live.’

Michael pulled me close to him tightly I could hear his heartbeat, a steady reminder to live

//Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.//

Mahatma Gandhi

#ahs #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #cody fern #fan fiction

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slayingallthesewomenwithmypeen · 5 years ago

Text

[Title in the Works] - 01

;hey guys! this is for a story I'm writing, and it's something I've had in mind for almost a year now, so I've decided to share the first chapter! i hope you enjoy. if you have any title suggestions please don't hesitate to share.

thank you all!

-Daisy💕

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

This chapter includes violent themes and driving while intoxicated.

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

April 12th, 1987

__________

If you were to ask where people usually are on a Sunday night in Boston, they'd almost all unanimously reply with watching the Bruins.

If not then they likely had something better to do.

But based on the rumbling and roaring of the crowd in the small pub downtown Boston, that didn't seem to be the case.

Cheering ran throughout the large room as a hockey game played on four different T.Vs, with men and women gathering around them to cheer for their boys in yellow and boo at Montreal aggressively.

Granted about half the crowd was completely wasted.

Waitresses walked around the establishment with tray-fulls of cheap beer to hand out to the customers as they continued to yell at the game, some getting mad as the people on the screen didn't do what they had yelled at them for the past half hour to do.

Eyeing one of the waitresses from the bar was Kate, the one with the more blonde in her hair, and her skin bearing a fairer complexion compared to her friend.

A cat-like look danced in her eyes as she scanned the crowd, then at the Bruins who weren't doing so hot.

She chuckled to herself.

Next to her, paying no mind to the waitresses (or let alone the game) like her friend was Phoebe.

She instead idly stirred her mixed drink with the tiny black straw that came with it.

Phoebe had noticeably tanner, freckled skin, sporting ginger hair and grey eyes.

Sitting next to Kate, the two did not at all seem like friends if one were to guess.

Kate twirled around on her barstool and faced her friend, smiling, "I knew the Bruins were gonna lose. Now that fat guy in the Hawaiian shirt over there owes me $50."

Phoebe didn't seem to have any reaction towards her friend's statement, continuing to stir the drink and staring blankly at it.

Her friend raised a brow, clearly understanding how out of character her ginger pal was and reached over to pluck the straw from her hand.

"I think the Alabama Slammer's mixed enough dude." Kate commented.

Phoebe looked up at her, seeming to snap out of the trance, "Sorry..." she apologized quickly, "I guess I'm just not feeling it tonight."

Kate leaned on her hand as she looked at her friend, "Feels weird being back here, huh?"

The ginger nodded, "Little bit." she said silently as she sipped her drink, "At least I haven't bumped into them yet."

"What, your parents?" Kate asked, scrunching her brows as she glanced around the bar, "Your blue-collared folks in this shithole?"

She shrugged, "You never know."

"Yeah, but from what you've told me about them they wouldn't even piss in the toilets in a place like this." Kate replied, a swig of her beer following her words, "So I wouldn't worry."

"I wouldn't really say I'm worried," Phoebe replied, "It's just weird."

The blonde sighed, "Just relax man. S'not like they're forming some kind of witch hunt for you still even after all this time."

Phoebe stayed silent for a moment, letting the cries of the hockey fans drown out her unspoken reply.

Kate rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder, "C'mon, I'm gonna get my 50 first from the Pillsbury dough-boy over there and then we can bounce. Just go wait in the car."

Kate tossed the keys at Phoebe, who caught them with her two hands and nodded in reply.

She got up and walked out of the bar, the parking lot surprisingly enough being barren despite the large crowd of people inside.

Phoebe got to their 1978 Ford Mustang and unlocked the car.

She got into the front seat, slamming the door next to her shut, and threw the keys onto the dashboard.

Though she tried, she just couldn't shake the awkward feeling of being home back so easily as Kate had tried to.

Her parents may not enjoy places like these as she may, but that doesn't mean the people here don't talk to one another.

Especially since Phoebe's father was a pastor of one of the largest churches in the city.

The thought of that by itself made her head cloud from the embarrassment.

Nothing would make a juicy story for every ear in this drunken city like hearing the pastor's daughter running around town making a fool of herself.

'Great.' she muttered in her head, 'As if me ditching hadn't made things worse before.'

Interrupting her silent scolding was laughter, and footsteps that sounded like running towards the car.

Phoebe turned around and looked out of the back window of the car to see Kate with a handful of cash and a wild grin plastered onto her face as the man in the Hawaiian shirt chased after her along with a buddy of his.

The second man, based on what she could get a glimpse of in the dark, had such a shiny bald head she wouldn't have been surprise if he had a marble where a skull would've been.

The fat man's mouth was covered in blood, his expression was one of pure anger.

His pace- while still fast- wasn't fast enough for Kate as she made it to the car in time, and quickly got into the driver's seat.

She threw the cash onto the dash, grabbing the keys and starting the car, her laughter subsiding as she caught her breath.

Phoebe hadn't had the time to even ask what had happened yet as Kate whipped out of the parking lot with a sharp turn and hit the gas.

The mens yelling and cursing in the background faded when they started going farther down the road.

Phoebe glanced at Kate, who looked at her as if she had just experienced a glorious high.

"Dickhead over there said he knew your dad," she explained, a pit in Phoebe's stomach already forming from the guilt, "He said he'd tell him he saw our plate unless I gave him a little something. Told him no, he tried to grab me, and so I broke his tooth and took whatever was in his wallet."

Kate had described the whole ordeal in a tone where she acts as this happens to her on a daily.

Which frankly, Kate getting into fights wasn't something out of the ordinary for the two of them to go through.

Phoebe chuckled nervously, her anxiety worsening, "Shit, he saw our plates?"

"Don't worry," Kate assured nonchalantly with a giggle, "We can always switch em."

Phoebe could feel her organs sinking into a pit, "How did he even recognize me?"

"Hell if I know."

The ginger turned to Kate, looking at her overall demeanor as her friend swerved a little on the road.

"Kate..." Phoebe reached over and put her hand on the wheel to guide the car in a safer way, "Dude you're drunk off your ass. Let me drive."

Kate blew a raspberry, "I'm not drunk'" she objected, smacking Phoebe's hand away, "I can drive just fine, don't be such a worry-wart."

Phoebe was just about to object when her eyes darted over towards the road for a second and saw a person crossing the street.

"Kate- KATE-" she cried as the car drew closer to the person, "Pump the breaks someone is crossing!"

Kate squinted at the road, her head nodding a little shakily, "I don't see anyone-"

"STOP THE CAR KATE STOP THE CAR-"

Phoebe pushed herself over towards the drivers' side and slammed her foot onto the break.

The tires squealed on the road, twisting and turning as Kate drunkenly tried to hold the wheel still.

Which was about as beneficial as a duck doing taxes.

Phoebe yelped as she felt the car stop, a loud thud from the front following after.

Her eyes were shut closed, shaking as she still stood with her feet on the brake pedal.

"Holy shit." Kate murmured, her feet sliding off of the gas and staring ahead from the window.

Phoebe slowly opened her eyes, her breathing quickened as she quickly got out of the car from the shotgun's side and made her way towards the front.

Her eyes widened in horror, her hands reached up to clamp over her mouth as she rushed over to the body.

A young man laid before the car, his dark brown hair held down with a bit of blood and sweat.

He wore a grey shirt and a blue jacket, both of which were covered in some leaves and mud.

She knelt down towards him, freezing for a second as she wasn't sure on what to do, but then immediately checked his neck for a pulse.

"Is he breathing?"

Kate called as she got out of the car, looking over at Phoebe and the body.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"He's still alive!"

"What?" Kate asked, surprised by him not kicking the bucket due to getting hit by a car, "No way...props to him."

"We gotta take him to the hospital," Phoebe said hurriedly, "He needs an ambulance- call 911!"

"Yeah, you try explaining to the doctors that you hit some homeless guy with your car."

Phoebe glared at her, "It's not my car! It's yours! You drove!"

"I could've been drunk and you would've had to drive me home. Don't lie and say you can't smell the whiskey on me."

Phoebe was absolutely appalled.

"Why can't we just tell the truth for once?!" she demanded, their current situation making her more stressed than ever, "Damn it, Kate, he could be dying!"

"Okay, one," Kate responded, definitely much calmer than Phoebe, "You think that me driving drunk is gonna make this situation better for the cops? You really want your parents to find out after all this time ignoring them, you got arrested for attempted murder?"

Phoebe didn't answer, she didn't even look at Kate, she just continued to have her hand on his pulse as reassurance that he's okay.

"...Two," she continued, "He'll be fine. Let's just go back to our motel. We'll put him on ice, I'll call a guy, we let him rest so we can avoid this whole mess."

"And what if he doesn't get better?" Phoebe shot a glare at her friend, questioning her morals.

Kate shrugged, "I got a shovel in the back."

Her eyes grew big, "Jesus Christ, Kate!"

"He'll get better!" she said a little louder, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Fuck sake, just help me get him into the backseat."

#ocs #story #my story #oc #original characters #original character #tw: alcohol #tw: alchohol mention #tw: attempted murder

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jjk-anime-horray · 4 years ago

Text

Past Demons

Dazai Osamu x reader x Oda Sakunosuke

Chapter Summary: Dazai goes and rediscovers a part of his past he wanted to leaves behind forever.

Trigger Warnings: Emotional trauma, mentions of extreme violence, mentions of emotional distress, mentions of illegal activities, and strong language.

Previous Chapter: All Dead Ends

Note: This chapter will be following Dazai not the reader just as a disclaimer.

The final dusts of the sunset finally left the vast sky as Dazai finally arrived in the alley, home to the bar with the white and red sign, Lupin.

Dazai wasn't sure if he was going to find him at this old spot of theirs, but it was the only clue he had, and frankly right now he had more questions than answers, and he was going to try to take a chunk out of the void of knowledge currently in his brain.

Did he actually want to be doing this right now, absolutely not, truth is back while he wished his friend was still alive, but he didn't want to see him again. No one wants to keep staring at the dead body of someone they cared about.

He wasn't happy that Odasaku was potentially alive, he was terrified, he doesn't want to encounter the friend that died in his arms. He doesn't want to see the man that he mourned over for years. He doesn't want to relive his pain.

But as he opened the door to the bar Lupin, he knew that his wishes weren't going to be an option.

Not as the bartender called to him saying that someone left a letter for him.

Not as he broke the seal of the envelope to find a note containing his previously dead friend's handwriting.

Not as he read the location on the piece of parchment to be the place where he was supposed to be buried.

Nothing, Dazai can barely think about why he's walking to meet his new nightmare, his body is just moving towards the disaster. His body is moving towards the old trauma, moving towards the pain, moving towards the embodiment of his emotional suffering.

Yet here he was now, standing right infront of the man of his emotional sorrows, sitting on his own grave under the blanket of the night's darkness.

"It's good to see that you again, It's good to see that you grew out of your emo shrimp phrase."

"What is the meaning of this? It's been seven year and you haven't even aged properly." Dazai started to rage, no longer able to contain his own feelings within his body. "You are just sitting there like it's not even your grave! You're acting like nothing happened!! You acting like you didn't bleed out in my arms!!! You're acting like it's normal, like we're just some old chums meeting up after not seeing each other for a year, you're acting like you didn't fucking di-"

"I know I fucking died okay!" Oda roared, like a injured beast just unleashed into the wild for the first time in years. "I was finally at peace, I finally was with them again, and yet that got fucking ripped away from me just like they did!" The words spoken then weren't spoken in rage, but something more destructive than that.

Pain.

Dazai's heart broke like glass dropped on concrete, he didn't know how to stop the stream of tears running down his friends face. In fact, right now he had no idea what to do, or what say. He felt useless. Like the way Oda felt when the bomb when off in that car.

"You're probably thinking why am I alive, the truth is I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell you how long i've or better to say my body actually has been alive either, all I remember is that I when my body re-aligned with my mind I was already fully dressed in civilian clothes walking down a street. I couldn't tell you what i've done, I couldn't tell you what I was used for, I couldn't tell you why I was resurrected, but I know I'm going to rip apart who did this too me, RUINED MY PEACE! Don't try to stop me."

Dazai was frozen when is friend walked past him and left, but he didn't reach out, he didn't even know if he could. All he knew was that he was his fifteen year old self again, trying to hold on to what he and Oda had in the past. That he would ultimately have to let go again.

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astro-rain · 4 years ago

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1,564

summary: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

[A/N:] not my photo

warnings: brief & indirect mentions of abuse

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #mcu #steve rogers #sharon carter #captain america #bucky reader insert #bucky drabble #bucky headcanon #bucky blurb

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