#i REFUSE to fall victim to the name Bai He | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oh-ranpo · 4 years ago

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stay, don’t go.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader warnings: angsty angst an: I don’t know, I just wrote it lmao word count: 2.4k+

“And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me!”

You kept hearing those words replaying over and over in your head. You knew that he had been upset about Sam giving up the shield, but you were surprised at how you hadn’t seen these particular emotions coming. There were a lot of things that Bucky worried about, but this burden of a thought broke your heart even more than usual. It was the most transparent he had been in months, and you hadn’t even been the one he was opening up to. Not that it mattered all that much, but now, you were struggling to find a way to help with the newly re-opened wound.

After the therapy session with Sam, Bucky had withdrawn into himself even more. Even though you had been waiting right outside the door, it was almost as if he didn’t see you at all when he walked through it. You had reached for his hand, and he had let you take his, but he didn’t say a word to you.

He’s had a rough day, you had told yourself. Getting arrested on top of everything else he was dealing with had to be a lot. He just needed some time to process it all.

Only, now, it was five hours later and he still hadn’t said a thing. You managed to get some hums in response to your prompting, and a shrug here and there, but no actual words fell from his lips. The anger from earlier in the day had dissipated, and now his shoulders drooped as he seemed to be carrying the world on his shoulders. Not that this was anything new to you either. It was a look you had long grown used to, but after hearing his outburst at therapy, you had a better idea than usual as to what was causing his pain this time.

Bucky had taken a spot in one of the chairs in the corner of your shared hotel room, and his blue eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him as he seemed to be attempting to stare a hole through it. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning, and you were sure that if you could read his thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to handle the emotional turmoil that lay inside. When you couldn’t get him to talk, you decided to order some food - something that you knew he liked - and then sat down in the chair next to him.

“Food should be here soon,” you told him, as if he couldn’t hear you placing the delivery order just five minutes prior from the other side of the room. This time, Bucky didn’t even bother acknowledging what you had said as his hand came up to rest under his chin. He was still staring at the same spot on the wall, and his eyes were squinting slightly as he seemed to be deep in thought.

You sighed as you glanced down at your watch and saw that it was getting later in the evening, and you wondered what Sam was up to. The three of you had parted ways after the police station, and Sam had barely said anything to you or Bucky when you left. You could make out some of their conversation through the door during therapy, but really the only part you had heard clearly were Bucky’s words. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the ‘he’ Bucky had been referring to was Steve. This was what his whole trip had been about in the first place.

You knew that you couldn’t go the whole night without addressing the elephant in the room, but you also knew how Bucky was when it came to opening up. Even with you. You knew that, besides Sam, you were one of the only people that he trusted since Steve passed away, and you didn’t take that lightly. You really only pressed when you knew that it would be good for him to talk about something, and this was one of those times.

“Bucky?” You started again, using his name this time in an attempt to draw his attention away from the wall. He didn’t look over at you at first, but slowly, as you waited patiently, they started to trail over in your direction. When his eyes finally met yours, you gave him a small, sad smile as you leaned against the arm of the chair closest to him. “About what you said to Sam today…”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your thought before Bucky was swiftly moving out of his seat. The movement caught you by surprise, as he had seemed so relaxed - well, as relaxed as he could be given the situation - but now he was running his hands through his hair as he started pacing in circles.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he mumbled, as his hand ran over his face, and his other gloved hand shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Slowly, you stood up from your own chair and made your way over to him, your hand reaching out for the sleeve of his jacket before he harshly pulled it out of your grasp.

His entire reaction was confusing you because usually, he just shut down. He didn’t get this visibly worked up, he just shut down and refused to give you any emotion or feedback on how he was feeling. Now, you could tell that he was upset, and from the look on his face, he knew that his expression and actions were giving him away.

“But you know you should,” you continued as you tried to reach for him again, this time more slowly. “Let me be there for you, Buck.” The second part of your statement came out at nearly a whisper, but it had been loud enough he had heard you and he started shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t have to. I’m- I’m fine. I just need to go-“ Now, he had started moving towards the hotel door, and you felt your heart start to race in your chest. He was trying to leave.

“Wait, no, don’t go!” You cried, as you rushed to stop him, and Bucky’s hand hesitated over the doorknob. “Please. Stay. Talk to me.” You hated how broken your words sounded, but after everything that had taken place over the last few months, you couldn’t bear the thought of him walking out of that door and leaving you alone. Hesitantly, Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you, and you could see that same, decades-old pain swimming in his light blue irises.

“You’d be better off if I did. I’m doing nothing for you here.” Earlier, when you thought the comment about Steve was the most painful thing you had heard him say, this was a close second. You shook your head firmly as you took another step closer to him, and instead of reaching for the door knob fully, Bucky allowed his hand to fall back down to his side.

“No, Bucky, I wouldn’t be better off. I lived five years without you. Five years of never knowing if you were going to come back. I’ve known a life without you, and that is something I never want to have to experience again.”

Bucky’s shoulders deflated at your words, and you could see a flash of something in his expression that gave you a sliver of hope. You knew how he felt about you, and you knew that, deep down, he was well aware of how you felt about him. That was a secret you never tried to keep from him, and the one thing he never tried to hide from you either.

After he didn’t move any closer to the door, and he didn’t respond to your words either, you slowly reached out for him once more, but this time, he didn’t pull away. You took ahold of his gloved hand and moved closer to him. The pain and conflict was still present in his expression, but as you lifted your other hand to cup his cheek, you hoped that maybe you would be able to find a way to bring him some comfort.

“Come sit back down with me, please,” you whispered, and for a moment, he didn’t move. You knew that if he really wanted to leave, you would have to let him, but your heart started to crack at the mere thought. Thankfully, after another heavy moment of silence, Bucky nodded and allowed you to lead him back to the end of the bed. You didn’t drop his hand, and when the two of you sat down next to one another, you sat close enough so that your leg was pressed up against his.

“I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, but I heard what you said to Sam today. About Steve,” you murmured, your gaze falling to where your hands were entwined and resting on his thigh. “And Bucky, you know that isn’t true, right? Steve… he thought the world of you. He would have, and did, do anything for you. He knew you, Buck, just as I do, and he saw the heart that you have and knew that you were worth every bit of it.”

When you looked up, you could see the tears swimming in his eyes as he tried to hold them back. Steve had always been a sensitive subject, and you knew that, but you also knew that what you said was true. You had known Steve, and you had seen and heard the way he felt about his best friend. Before he was Captain America, Bucky had always been there for him, and after he was Captain America, he was there to return the favor without hesitation. He never held Bucky’s Hydra days against him because he knew, just as you did, that he had no control over that. He was a victim; a pawn in a much bigger game than he ever could have won on his own. He was still paying for it, even after all this time. You just hoped that someday he’d find a way to forgive himself.

“I just don’t know sometimes,” Bucky managed to choke out after another heavy silence. “I mean, I’m trying, but the nightmares and the constant reminders of what I did…” His voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes on the window across the room in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. You knew that he hated crying in front of anyone, despite you having told him numerous times that he didn’t have to hide that part of himself from you.

“That wasn’t you, at least, not really,” you replied. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes, White Wolf.” This time you nudged him in the shoulder with your own and he cracked half a smile as his eyes flickered back over to you. “The Winter Soldier was not you. And before you try to argue with me, I’ve seen him and I’ve seen you, and I can tell you that he is nowhere near the same guy as the one that’s sitting right here next to me.”

Bucky cringed at the reminder that you had been forced to bear witness to his time as The Winter Soldier when Zemo had activated him a few years before the blip. He had spent months apologizing, despite not having done anything to you, and you cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

“I mean, the metal arm is the only thing you guys have in common, and on the Bucky I know… it’s actually kind of sexy.” You added the last part lightly, and when Bucky looked over at you again, you waggled your eyebrows playfully. He just shook his head as the corners of his lips turned up just a bit, before his gaze fell to his lap. The hand you were holding now was the metal one, and you followed his gaze as you released your hold on it before slowly slipping his glove off. He flexed the metal appendages as soon as the glove was gone, and you reached for it as your fingers traced over the cool metal.

“It’s a curse,” he mumbled, his eyes still locked on where it was resting in his lap. “I mean, Shuri was nice enough to make it better than the old one but…”

You shook your head as you grabbed it before lifting it to your lips and pressing a small kiss to the back of it.

“It’s not a curse, it’s a part of you. And because of that, I love it. Just like I love you.”

Bucky inhaled sharply at those three little words, even though you had been saying them practically non-stop since he had returned. You had said it before he was gone too, but you knew, back then, that he didn’t believe it.

“I do love you, Bucky. So please… don’t leave.”

For a moment, you could tell that Bucky had almost completely forgotten about how he had been about to walk out. It was a gift that you possessed that he had never truly understood. Even though you were talking about his problems, it didn’t feel nearly as bad as it did when he talked about his problems with anyone else. Not that he opened up enough to anyone else to really do much good.

“I couldn’t leave,” he murmured as your eyes lifted to meet his. “You’re the only one that makes me feel… well, anything.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as that was practically him saying he loved you too, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“And thank you,” he continued. “For what you said.” You nodded in response as you leaned against his shoulder, his metal hand falling to your thigh as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I’m always here for you to talk to, you know that? Though, you do need to talk to Sam too. He’s going through a hard time just like you are, and he needs his friends to be there with him too.”

Slowly, Bucky nodded, but before either of you could continue, there was a knock on the hotel room door, and you were reminded of the take-out order that you had placed earlier.

“You hungry?” You asked with another smile as you stood up from the end of the bed and moved towards the door.

“I could eat,” you heard him respond, and you chuckled as you pulled open the door to grab your food.

Things were far from perfect, but every day the two of you took baby steps towards healing together. And really, you couldn’t ask for much more than that.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #marvel imagine #the winter soldier imagine

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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

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fighter kirishima who doesn't like it when other people even stare for one second at his partner, so then he just kills anyone who dares to stand less than 2ft from his darling 😌👍

Tw:noncon implication, implied murder

“Why’re you standing so far away babe?”

You’re not, he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist to the point of crushing your hips.

“‘M not, just couldn’t breathe.”

“Oh good, for a moment there I was worried you were looking at that guy again.

That guy referring to the blond haired weirdo who kept laughing and pointing at the losers of the ring like a maniac.

Right, like you were totally head over heels for the one weirdo in the entire basement.

Except your “boyfriend “ maybe. He could definitely take that title.

Well, maybe not weirdo. Maybe Possessive Controling Freak would be a better name for him, instead of Kirishima.

And just to drive the point home, he soothingly rubs his calloused hand up and down your arm while the next match rages on in front of you both.

It’s not soothing, on the contrary it seems like a threat.

He just amps it up from then on any time he feels like your attention is elsewhere or if he feels like other men are looking at you for a second too long.

First it’s taking on arm and tightly squeezing it. Then, he puts one leg of yours over his thigh much to your embarrassment.

Eventually he just picks you up and plops you on his lap. While he thinks he’s keeping other men at bay with this tactic, it’s doing the complete opposite.

Because these testosterone filled savages are quite enjoying the scene with your limbs being toyed with and thrown over a man like the rest of them, your ragdoll-maneuvered body a promise of something they might be able to one day get a taste of.

The entirety of the fight goes by dreadfully slow because all you can focus on is how long Kiri’s hands dip in and out of the crevice of your legs way too casually. His hands settle comfortably under your shirt and across your boobs, which can be seen by literally everyone when they catch a glimpse of an evident hand on your chest.

He prevents you from squirming too much with his limbs tightening around you and disapproving grunts to your discomfort. So you sit there, stewing with rage and humiliation.

Until a distraction appears.

In the midst of the next match brawling in the ring, a smaller fight breaks out amongst the raging spectators.

It only catches both your attention when the yelling starts getting close to your area and men start throwing fists and yelling until their faces tie beet-red.

Kirishima and you both crane your heads around to see the source of the commotion, but you realize quickly that it’s getting way too intense around you, so much so that men begin lifting chairs and falling over themselves in their own battles.

You try to get up but Kiri’s hands are wrapped so tightly around your midriff that you barely manage to dislodge his arm. He’s distracted and looking around curiously at the dangerous setting and you have to frantically tap his arm to indicate it’s time to go.

But he snaps out of it too late, and a body gets punched your way, his large mass descending on your weaker frame.

You shriek and try to lift your hands up to protect yourself, but it doesn’t work. You’re slammed into and knocked clean off Kirishima’s lap onto the floor laced with blood and bits of torn clothes.

There’s a loud ringing in your ears as you blearily get up and take in your surrounds, which seem to love in slow motion around you. You belatedly think that you must’ve hit your head on the concrete floor when you fell.

Your arms ache as you groan and lift yourself up on shaky elbows, the sounds around you swim in and out of your aching head when suddenly an open hand is thrust in front of your face.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry!”

Grimacing, you tilt your head up and see the same man who knocked you down. You’re in no condition to refuse help in such a volatile area however, so you gingerly lift your hand and grasp onto his open palm.

You find yourself being pulled up easily and crushed into the man’s body. It’s hard to push back but when you see how many bloody faces and broken limbs windmill around you decide it’s best to keep close to a safe space.

The man gently starts stepping over writhing bodies and lifting you up under your arms to ensure that you don’t trip and fall again while on your way to a clearer area.

You don’t resist, only looking up at him helplessly like a kitten being dragged by its mom from the scruff. His body is warm and toned, yet plush and comfortable to lean against when you need to. Your cranium still pounds, but your head clears a bit when you look into his surprisingly concerned grey eyes.

“You alright? Hit your head a little hard, huh? My bad.”

He sets you on a perch near the office and looks around, deeming it a less loud and crowded area for your health.

He says nothing, but you don’t sense any malice from him. He doesn’t move either though, he just leans an arm on the extension and puts another hand on his hip, scanning the screaming men and casualties as if he were looking out in a snowy field.

He might be protecting you, or looking for a good place to jump in and start swinging himself, you’re not sure.

But you’re grateful for his helpful presence, nonetheless.

And then suddenly your moment of reprieve is dismantled when you hear him frantically calling your name.

You see his head hair sticking up, spiky as ever while the top of his head bobs left and right, in circles and backwards as he tries finding you.

Your head starts to hurt again.

“Y/N! Where the hell are you?”

Eventually and unfortunately he sees your figure above the fray, and he swears you look like an angel-siting above this rifraff, your body perfectly intact unlike the rest of these thugs, your expression dazed and vulnerable like it did when you were choking on his co-

He sees the man next to you, and his vision shatters like glass when he takes in the proximity of him next to you.

Kirishima sees red.

“Hey, there you are cutie! I got scared I lost you for a sec’ there. Thanks for looking out for her man,” he smiles and shakes his hand with the steel-haired guy, crushing his grip a little too hard to be deemed grateful.

“No problem. The name’s Tetsutetsu. ‘Think I’ve seen you around here, you fight pretty good not gonna lie! When’s it gonna be my turn to match that strength in the rink?” He smiles deviously and knocks shoulders with you in jest.

While you smile uncomfortably and rub your now-bruising shoulder, Kirishima’s eye twitches at the contact and his smile starts straining as well.

But this is too easy to give up.

“Hey, that’s actually a really good idea. Why don’t we have our own little practice match after the shit here clears up?” He nods around to the ongoing pandemonium.

You look at him stricken, unsure of what he’s playing at. You’re not stupid, you can tell by his off body language that he’s not at rest or relaxed at all by this conversation.

The expression he’s making, while it might fool the himbo next to you, is extremely reminiscent of the faces he pulls when he chides gently in your ear to stop moving so fucking far away from him and soothes a hand over your head.

“Sounds good, and don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you.” The other man laughs heartily and kicks away a stray rolling body.

Kirishima merely grins gently. “For your sake, is give it my best.”

*************

He’s strapped you to the bed-check.

You’ve been spanked black and blue-check.

A lecture has been given to your sobbing body-check.

Ointment has been slathered on the bruises-double check.

And he’s out the door at exactly 9pm, jogging his way to the bar and down the steps to the basement as a light warm up. He considers calling an ambulance before-hand, but that would mean he’d give enough mercy to leave Tetsutetsu intact…and alive.

When he bounds down the rickety steps he finds that Tetsu is already there and lightly boxing a body bag that the newbies use for practice.

He has to hold back his snort and paint his usual cheery face on, but something tells him even the dim yellow light in this room would still show the dark emotion swirling in his ruby eyes.

“What’s up bro, you made it?”

“No, I’m still at home.”

Tetsutetsu laughs heartily and doesn’t catch onto the cold bite Kirishima’s words hold.

“You’re funny. ‘Wanna warm up-“

“-Nah, actually, ‘think I’m good. Let’s just get started, I’ve been waiting for this.”

“You got it boss.”

And without further ado they both shrug off their shirts in the hot basement and ready their fists in a protective stance, circling each other.

“Y’know, when I saw you next to my girl I fantasized about caving your face in,” a punch is thrown suddenly and Tetsu is thrown off guard by the surprising agility of the bully opponent and his words.

He practically eats the hit square in the nose, his head snapping back and immediately pouring blood from his nostrils.

He coughs and staggers before realigning himself the opposite end of the fighting circle. “Wha-? Why?” The victim sounds congested from the leaking blood but his focus is only on Kirishima’s change in expression.

“Yeah, and then I saw you knock shoulders with her too…maybe I’ll cut yours off and sell ‘em for a couple hundred, whaddaya think bro?”

This time when Kirishima aims for his face again he’s ready, and he quickly dodges and strikes his face fist out.

But what he doesn’t expect is the redhead to actually catch the fist in his own larger hand and hold it in midair. He also doesn’t react in time to pull his hand out and move back when Kiri’s other fist swings low and punches so hard into his stomach that he falls to the ground, hand still captivated by Kirishima’s.

He’s never seen a man with that kinda of face on while fighting. His eyes are narrowed and dark, his mouth is set in a thin like and his whole body is taut, as if holding back his own strength.

For the first time since he’s ever been in the basement, Tetsutetsu doesn’t to fight anymore.

“Look Kirishima,” he hacks and looks wildly at him. “I don’t know if you’re upset at me for something but you gotta chill out. You can’t catch my hands like that, that’s not how you’re supposed to fight-“

“You still think I give a shit how we’re supposed to fight? No ones gonna care about strategy or sportsmanship when you’re dead, Tetsutetsu.”

His last scream is so loud and so shrill that Kirishima thinks it’s a shame it wasn’t witnessed in a real match by paying spectators.

#bully kirishima #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #tw: implied noncon #tw: implied death #yandere mha #bnha #mha #yandere bnha #kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima

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shimmersing · 3 years ago

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Constellation

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear.

Part Three

AN: I highly recommend you read Impending, a once-upon-a-oneshot that snuggles right into Constellation here, between parts two and three. Enjoy!

May the Force be with you.

Standing in the airlock, Aitahea let the echo of Erithon’s voice roll over and through her, like she might flow through saber stances during practice. Six syllables, like the spiral of a breath, a last sigh of hope to cling to in her fierce exhaustion and anguished determination.

It was the first time they’d spoken since Alderaan; everything else had been missed calls and quickly dashed-off messages. She’d mentioned her return to Tython, but not her weariness, loneliness, or how since leaving Alderaan, the only dream she’d remembered on waking was of him, humming Star by Star and stroking her hair. As far-flung as they’d been, she had doubted he’d see her injuries in a grainy holo.

Instead, she’d simply listened.

Erithon’s mother and sister had given him no end to their questions about the “princess” - as his youngest niece had gleefully declared - having seen their gala appearance splashed across the holonet. He’d explained with proud reticence that he had been harassed into calling to say hello for them, but he hoped she was doing well, of course.

See-Too had whirred politely in the common room entryway, a subtle warning that the other crew had begun stirring in response to their arrival. Aitahea had gently interrupted Erithon a final time, thanking him for calling, but she was needed urgently. He’d nodded, evidently used to the same, and then… “May the Force be with you.” She hadn’t even had a chance to reply, to wish him the same, before the call had disconnected, and she’d been alone again in the dark.

Minutes later, the Luminous had docked to Vivicar’s stolen ship, though Sia had only done so under protest.

“I don’t fucking like this, Ai.”

“There’s no other way, Sia. I trust you to keep the Luminous safe.”

“Yeah, me too, but what about you?”

Aitahea had pressed her lips into a tight line and turned away from her friend, unable to offer anything more to assuage Sia’s concern or her own guilt. The Progress had made all reports on time, presumably under Lord Vivicar’s control, so no one in the wider Republic knew that anything was awry.

Qyzen had refused to let her board alone, though she’d helplessly argued for it. They both knew she was still healing, only maintaining the shielding by a hair’s breadth. Vivicar’s ruinous intrusion on the ritual had done more damage than Aitahea had been willing to acknowledge. Sia had muttered under her breath something about needing to get a kolto tank installed in the med bay.

The Progress was shrouded in flickering darkness, the black of deep space. The stars still glittered, but coldly, distantly. Aitahea wasn’t certain what they’d find on board; there were many lives, but they writhed beneath a shadow grown powerful. Qyzen waited beside her as the airlock cycled to admit them to the hijacked ship.

The first rush of soldiers took her off guard; she flinched at the sight of Republic insignias below fevered eyes and slack faces. A growled warning from Qyzen brought her back to the task of disabling them with as little harm as possible.

It all horrified her, this perversion of so many things she held dear. The horrible stain of the dark side flowed on the ship and everyone aboard. She could barely hold it in check, growing steadily more vulnerable as her shielding was meticulously assaulted.

Vivicar was blessedly silent until Aitahea reached the first computer console. When he finally spoke, it was like being plunged into dark water. The consular reeled, fighting to keep her fingers on the control panel and not digging into her own temples.

I wasn’t sure if you’d be foolish enough to come aboard, Aitahea. But I can sense your presence.

Aitahea swallowed hard against a wave of nausea. “And I sense a man tormented by the past.”

You are blinded by the light side. You can’t understand what you face.

Biting back a sharp retort, Aitahea shoved away from the console – she didn’t possess the necessary slicing skill to coax open the blast doors from there. She could cut her way through the thick durasteel with her lightsaber, but time felt too precious.

Nearby were a few barrels, each with a combustion risk label splashed across it. She could fling them into the door using the Force, but it would be violent and destructive.

Oddly, Aitahea found she didn’t mind that so much right now and lifted a hand. The explosion was terrific, throwing back her hood. The wave of heat quickly grew so intense Aitahea had to shield herself and Qyzen until it abated.

As they stepped through the hissing, superheated breach, Vivicar’s voice echoed in a hateful thrum. Come to me, Jedi. I’ll show you how light can be snuffed out.

Aitahea swayed briefly, closing her eyes. There was no part of her that wasn’t in anguish. If this wasn’t already snuffed out, what could possibly be worse? She felt alarmingly close to knowing exactly what.

May the Force be with you.

It was Erithon’s voice this time, no tainted whispers, just her own beautiful memory. A light in the dark. She could follow that through this horrific present; through anything, perhaps. Aitahea opened her eyes, signaled her companion, and forged ahead.

Most of the unwitting fighters in their path could be stopped with a Force wave, tumbling them unconscious but mostly unharmed to the floor; but the squad leaders would be hardier – she knew from experience.

The first squad leader, a hulking being of indeterminate origin, was waiting for them at the first intersection, alone. The soldier didn’t fall for Qyzen’s feint and instead hoisted his cannon toward Aitahea, spraying cryogenic fluid. She flicked it away, readying her lightsaber to deflect any shots from the holdout blaster she knew he’d be hiding.

Qyzen shifted into an effortless and decisive strike, taking advantage of a seam in the trooper’s armor. Aitahea shuddered, feeling the soldier’s perception flare out, leaving nothing but gleeful darkness seething in every shadow.

“Herald?”

“I’m fine,” she bit out. “Let’s proceed.”

After navigating a few more hallways, they located the secondary computer terminal. She’d barely set her fingers to the keypad when Vivicar splintered her thoughts.

Tell me, Aitahea, what was it like? Letting your life force drain away to shield a stranger from me - how did it feel?

Aitahea frowned at her suddenly balled-up fists, unclenching and resettling her fingers on the keys before replying. “Painful, but I endured it.”

Pain makes us stronger. And the pain I have endured is beyond your comprehension.

That is why I have won.

Her throat seized, but even after swallowing hard, no words came to her, all her skillful, diplomatic platitudes absent.

“Hunt is not over until beast is skinned, dark thing,” Qyzen rumbled. The console began blaring a klaxon warning, and droids began pouring into the room.

You will understand soon. If you live that long.

“Your power and tactics have brought you this far, but no further.”

Until now, Aitahea had imagined Parkanas Tark as a youth, bright with potential and the Force. But the being that turned to face her as she dragged herself toward the bridge was aged, wretched, and twisted by the dark side.

“This battle was decided before you stepped aboard.”

“I’m tired of your delusions,” Aitahea hissed, past exhaustion and numb with pain. “Explain yourself.”

Vivicar gave her a mocking bow. “As you wish. My plague isn’t just a disease; it siphons power from its victims. With the proper rituals, that power can be channeled. Soon, the combined strength of your Masters will make me the most powerful Force adept who has ever lived.”

The pressure against her shielding intensified, thousands of threads – lives, she realized – suddenly pulled taut. Trembling with the strain, Aitahea took a step forward. She hadn’t come here to bicker; she’d come here to help.

“Turn away from this path, Parkanas. The Order can help you.”

Vivicar laughed.

“Oh, Aitahea.” This time, she visibly flinched when he used her name. “Parkanas Tark died long ago. Even ‘Vivicar’ is merely a skin to be shed. Parkanas offered himself to me on Malachor Three, to crush the Order that destroyed us. He embodied my spirit.” He lifted his hands, a seething glow thick with the dark side writhing around him. “I am no lost Jedi, no ordinary Sith Lord. I am Terrak Morrhage.”

“You can turn away from this path, Parkanas,” she beseeched, fumbling for words while he stalked toward her. “The Order can help you. Just… just come home.”

“No one can oppose me, certainly no child, barely more than a Padawan.” He grinned, ghoulish and without remorse as he ignited his lightsaber. “I am beyond flesh… beyond death!”

Aitahea realized tears were slipping from her eyes, her vision blurring. She was so tired. “No one is beyond the will of the Force,” she whispered, uncertain who the platitude was meant for.

Morrhage laughed again, a sound like plasteel shredding. “I will crush you, Aitahea, and your shattered body will fuel my rebirth!”

For a fleeting moment, she thought of running. Simply turning about, dashing to the safety of the Luminous. She questioned the choice she’d made on Tython, to come here carrying so many injuries, so much guilt and fear. Should she have stayed to heal? She remembered what the Noetikon of Secrets had explained, that the Jedi Master who had created the shielding technique had given his life to end Morrhage’s first plague. Was Morrhage right? Had the light blinded her?

Aitahea took a breath.

The light didn’t blind. Light revealed, left no shadows to hide in. Light nourished; light gave everything yet lost nothing. Light was right now in this moment, not in the past, and would always be in reach in the future. If light called, light would answer.

Aitahea called out.

“Parkanas! I know you are there; I sense you!” Morrhage ignored her outcry, continuing to advance. Aitahea sucked in a breath, ignited her lightsaber, and took a defensive stance. “Help me stop this monster, Parkanas, please!”

Morrhage attacked with spectacular brutality, thousands of years of rage and hatred against Aitahea’s weakened shielding, against her physical self. The Jedi parried and dodged, evading strikes she couldn’t hope to block. Qyzen Fess did what he could to aid her, but Morrhage was fixated on Aitahea. Her body quailed under the assault, shredding her determination. There must be another way…

Morrhage’s next attack struck true, and Aitahea lost a few moments to fiery agony searing across her left side. Reckless with pain, she flung out a wild, violent Force wave that sent Morrhage to the floor and left several nearby panels crushed beyond recognition. A few precious seconds passed while she waited, panting, for her vision to clear.

The fallen Jedi, the false Sith lord, struggled to his knees, glaring death toward Aitahea as she approached.

“Impressive, Aitahea, but my victory is already complete. My plague has spread farther than you can imagine. Jedi Masters across the galaxy are succumbing to it as I speak. The plague binds these Masters to me. Hundreds of them… the heart and soul of your order.

“You feel it, do you not, Aitahea?”

No lies this time; Aitahea could indeed feel the mingled torment of hundreds more Jedi as Morrhage siphoned their lives for strength. Every crack in her shielding, down to the smallest hairline fracture, screamed in agony.

“Kill me, and you will kill every Master I have ever infected. Every one! Shielded or not, they are still bound to me.”

Aitahea dispassionately placed the blade of her lightsaber at his throat. It felt like someone else doing it. She spoke in clipped tones, her voice unrecognizable in her own ears. “Free those Jedi, Morrhage. Now.”

“And if I refuse? Will you cut us down? What choice do you have? You cannot let me live, and I am deathless.” Morrhage leered, his dark victory seemingly assured, and took one more jab: “Your shielding talent cannot harm me. You’ve lost!”

Everything went silent and impossibly still. Your shielding talent cannot harm me. Of course not. It was never meant to harm, only to heal, to offer a path toward the light that anyone could take at any time, without judgement, without conditions, just… a welcome home. The path that she’d longed for, that she’d tried to circumvent over and over, a path she could not offer until she, too, chose it.

Aitahea lowered her arm and deactivated her lightsaber. “I can save you, Parkanas.”

Morrhage reeled back as Aitahea drew the Force around her. The effort would not be without risk, but it was the path that lay before her. Another stillness enfolded her, this time of peace, willingness, and release. Fighting had never been her forte or focus; she was a healer, with words and hands and her lightsaber only when absolutely, undeniably necessary.

Now, she isn’t simply performing the shielding ritual; she is part of it, wholly within and throughout, a numinous space that feels like a Coruscant ocean, like the forests of Tython, like warm sun and a hand to hold on Brentaal, all at once.

Now, she realizes how to bring it full circle; she must allow the Force its will, stop trying to control it, and just let go. Light spills through the cracks in her shielding, and everything is suddenly and wonderfully illuminated.

May the Force be with you.

Parkanas – and it was with every certainty him; the sudden burst of hope where none had been the moment before was unmistakable – went flying backwards, away from Aitahea and leaving the vulnerable spirit of Morrhage isolated before her.

The spirit howled in fury. “No, this body is mine! Damn you, Jedi!”

Aitahea noted with detached amusement that she was levitating, Morrhage’s furious tirade a soft rumble in the background. She felt untethered, undefinably light. Closing her eyes, Aitahea exhaled a long breath and stepped softly down to the floor.

“When my strength returns, no matter the years – I will destroy you,” Morrhage snarled, but Aitahea was already walking toward Parkanas, feeling her own strength returning. She brushed past the raging specter, and in a few more moments, it had disappeared.

Qyzen had already lifted Parkanas Tark to his feet. He had a hand to his head, and Aitahea allowed a thread of sympathy to unwind, a guide to the path she hoped he would be able to take, too.

Parkanas Tark stared at her with open disbelief. “I’m… still alive. You spared me.”

She half-smiled. “Healed you.”

“My mind is…” Parkanas shook his head again. “Clearer now. But – it was your duty to kill me and destroy Morrhage.” His eyes – still smoldering amber, revealing a bitter internal strife – begged for an answer. Why?

“Too many Jedi have been lost already.” Aitahea lowered her gaze, the barest of brief moments to grieve for those lost. “Including Parkanas Tark.”

“Perhaps he deserves another chance, but…” Parkanas’ voice trailed off, adding in a pained whisper, “I cannot return to the Order.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in her own throat, Aitahea pressed. “Tython has its hidden places. Its forests.” That half-smile danced across her lips again, and for a flickering moment, she was light years away. “You could find peace there.”

“I could… go home.” Parkanas grew still, eyes distant and filled with evergreen leaves and rushing water. After a moment, he startled, reaching out to grasp her hands. “But first, Jedi, listen. Take this warning in exchange for my life: You can’t trust the Order. Or the Republic.” Aitahea drew breath to contradict, but he continued. “You may be their heroine now, but they will abandon you, too.”

Aitahea pulled away from Parkanas’ frantic grip, shaking her head while she scrabbled for a coherent thought. “Why…What do you-” Nothing coalesced, leaving her once again a diplomat with no words.

Parkanas held her gaze. “Remember that.”

“We felt it! A massive shift in the Force. The Masters you saved have reported a sudden improvement in their condition. The plague is over, thanks to you.

“And… I sense Parkanas Tark. For the first time in many years. How can that be?”

Aitahea nodded at Master Syo and glanced sidelong toward Parkanas, who was being assessed by Tharan and Holiday. “You can ask him yourself, Master. When he returns to Tython, he can answer all your questions.”

Her companions had dashed through the ship as soon as she’d signaled their safety. Bringing medical equipment to help with the injured and traumatized crew, Prelsiava Tern had even dragged along a protesting See-Two.

“I told you there’d be plenty for you to do; look at that console! It’s completely trashed! Go on, get on it,” Sia had ordered, and the affronted droid had conceded, tottering over to examine one of the smashed panels.

With the logistics managed, and a scant few moments to tuck away the memory of Parkanas’ unsettling words, Aitahea had commed the Council, Master Syo answering with his victorious statement: We felt it!

“Well done, Aitahea. The Jedi Order owes its survival to you.”

Relief swept over her like a wave. “It’s my privilege to serve.”

“Hurry home. We’re waiting for you.”

Aitahea felt nearly presentable again by the time they arrived on Tython. She’d had her injuries treated. She’d eaten and bathed. She’d slept, mostly dreamless but for dappled sunlight and burbling water.

As they touched down on Tython, Aitahea marveled at the incandescent radiance of the Force within the hallowed walls of the Jedi Temple. Each Jedi shone like a bright star, a constellation she’d missed terribly beneath the weight of the shielding. Even Qyzen shimmered, kindling with satisfaction and pride. Beneath all, the grand symphony of Tython itself soared.

In the Council chamber, Master Yuon, Master Syo, Master Satele, and Master Jaric were waiting. Schooling her expression into practiced serenity, Aitahea dropped into a bow, only lifting her gaze when Yuon spoke.

“You have saved untold lives through your defeat of Lord Vivicar and destruction of the plague.” Aitahea felt Yuon’s pride in every syllable.

Even Master Jaric was smiling. “There’s a title reserved for the most prestigious among us, whose wisdom and skill safeguard the galaxy. It hasn’t been bestowed in thousands of years.”

Aitahea became keenly aware of her flushed cheeks, suspended between delight and disbelief, and nodded in vague acknowledgment.

“You have proved worthy,” Master Syo declared. “Now, the Council names you Barsen’thor, warden of the Order.”

Absurdly, Aitahea’s thoughts turned to how much she’d enjoy reading about the other Barsen’thor that had preceded her. Would the archive even contain that knowledge? How many thousands of years? Who were they, who had they set out to be, and what had they done to arrive where Aitahea herself now stood? The Force bloomed with assurance. “I will do all I can to live up to this honor.” Aitahea clasped her hands, sweeping into a low obeisance.

“I never imagined your potential would take you so far.” Yuon beamed, and Aitahea returned the expression as she lifted her head.

Yet concern laced Master Syo’s next words: “And not a moment too soon. We have need of you. The Council has received word that the Republic is facing a new threat.”

“We need time to prepare a war council,” Satele clarified, much to Aitahea’s unspoken relief. “The Supreme Chancellor himself will be attending.”

“I stand ready, Master,” Aitahea assured.

Accepting her pledge with a nod, Syo nodded towards the doors. “Take time to record your journey in the Jedi archives. History must know of your actions.”

Aitahea blinked, more surprised at her own surprise than anything – of course there should be a record of the current Barsen’thor as well; that’s the first place to start, obviously – and almost missed Master Syo’s final words. “We will contact you when the war council is ready. For now, the entire Order will know that there is a new Barsen’thor among us.”

After a round of congratulations from each of the Masters, Aitahea and Qyzen left the Council chamber, ostensibly to bring her story to the archives.

“Scorekeeper smiles, Herald. Is great honor your people give you.” He gestured broadly, sending a few initiates scurrying out of the way. “Points beyond measure!”

Her heart sang with gratitude. She’d trusted him as her ally, her second, her friend; and he’d returned that trust hundredfold. Questioned and advised her, criticized and coddled her, but never judged her. Steadfast and patient, always. If what they had done brought points-beyond-measure to her, he’d have the larger portion by far. “We hunt together, my friend. Whatever my score, you share it.”

Qyzen paused, abruptly turning to face her. Traffic streamed around them; Temple life carried on. “Is… a noble thing you say. My thanks, Herald.”

“My thanks to you as well, Qyzen. Thank you for…” For protecting me? For challenging me? For warning and guiding and validating me? For seeing me when even I could not? “…for everything.”

“Must share the story of this hunt with your Order. It is good to share knowledge.”

Aitahea thought of the Noetikons, the immense value of them for so much beyond the lore and history of the Jedi. Even after becoming one with the Force, they had set alight a path for so many Jedi after, herself included. Like she might, generations from now.

Blinking back tears and knowing full well she couldn’t have hidden them if she’d wanted to, Aitahea smiled. “Then I must make yet another request of you: that you tell the story with me.”

Qyzen regarded her for a long moment, long enough that she began to fret that she’d somehow stumbled into an insult. “You are Scorekeeper’s Herald,” he said solemnly, “and you are true Jedi.”

Aitahea nodded, feeling and breathing and illuminating the Force around them.

“I’m home.”

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

#swtor fanfiction #swtor fanfic #star wars the old republic #jedi consular #barsen'thor #qyzen fess #force plague #vivicar #tython #sad #melancholy #lady put the breaks on #aitahea daviin #consular #that's my girl

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

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Time for some BL/Danmei novel recs!

You guys have probably (maybe) seen my novels list here - [X] - but it’s more for my own tracking than anything else, so here’s a brief list (I’ll probably do full ones of the ones I really love in another post, probably on Minmo).

The ones elaborated on below with the asterisks are the novels I’ve actually finished reading.

*since everyone more or less knows MXTX’s works - TGCF, MDZS and SVSSS, I’ll skip those!

1. SCI 迷案集 | SCI Mystery Series by 耳雅*

Summary: Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao are childhood friends and rivals that end up working together under the newly established SCI unit as co-leads, with Bai Yutang providing the brawn as Captain and Zhan Zhao the brains as Vice Captain and the team’s resident genius psychologist. They solve cases together and slowly unravel a wider conspiracy that involves their parents’ generation and beyond. At the same time they also realize that they’re meant for each other!

Other CPs: Bai Jintang (Bai Yutang’s older brother) & the medical examiner, Gongsun Ce, Bai Chi (Bai Yutang’s younger cousin) & magician Zhao Zhen, and at least three other gay pairings, one of which is considered another main couple of sorts from Vol. 2 onwards

Status: Incomplete (Began in 2010, author is still going on strong with one chapter every one or two months, we’re halfway through Vol. 5 right now and it’s been 10 years ;-; Love that the author is going on strong!! Everyone on JJWXC are like “please author it’s okay if you go slow as long as you keep going we’re here for you” and jfc I understand the fear of this not completing, also when will Vol. 5 be completed and printed?!! I need to complete the collection)

Translations: Unfortunately, only the first volume has been translated well so far on novel updates. The one on Wattpad seems to have caught up, but I would not recommend that one.

Drama/Live-Action: Season 1 was filmed and released in 2018 under the same name with slightly changed names for the characters. Season 2 was supposed to start filming this month but... oh well. First season basically covered Vol. 1 novel from start to end.

*I love this one only because it was my very first danmei and so it’ll forever have a special place in my heart, and also because it’s still ongoing so ya know, I relive how much I love this every month

2. 成化十四年 | Cheng Hua’s Fourteenth Year (The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty) by 梦溪石*

Summary: Tang Fan, a prefectural judge, and Sui Zhou, a high ranking officer in the Embroidered Uniform Guards, meet while trying to solve a murder case. Both of them end up partnering very well together, Sui Zhou ends up inviting Tang Fan to live with him, and the rest is history. Through their days living together and solving cases + a larger conspiracy involving the royal palace, they fall in love. Adding to this mix is also Wang Zhi, a powerful, young eunuch who befriends the pair, and the three of them basically help the crown prince to overcome challenges and his enemies to become the next Emperor

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Ongoing on several websites. I’m only translating relationship highlights, but here’s an introduction post I did for it, if you guys would like somewhere to start without getting too invested - [X]

Drama/Live-Action: The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty was released earlier this year, directed by Jackie Chan and starring Darren Chen and Paul Fu, but cases are a little different and there are new characters in the show that weren’t from the novel etc.

3. 杀破狼 | Shapolang by Priest*

Summary: Set in a steampunk universe where flying boats named ‘kites’ and flying armour exist. Young teenager Chang Geng lives with his mother and stepfather - the former abuses him and the latter neglects him, and the only person that he cares about (and cares about him) is Shen Shiliu, his (very young) godfather. He realizes his identity as a royal prince when the Man tribe invades his city and Shen Shiliu, whose real name is Gu Yun, turns out to be an army general whose duty was to protect Chang Geng in secret (among other things).

Chang Geng has been critically poisoned by his mother (who’s not actually his birth mother, if I recall she’s an aunt) which leads to him getting terrible dreams frequently with the end result of him being driven into insanity, while Gu Yun is half blind, half deaf due to poisoning + injury when he was much younger, and he can only regain his hearing and sight fully when he takes a medicine that is slowly losing its effectiveness with every dosage he has.

The both of them navigate learning about each other again, falling in love a few years later when Chang Geng is all grown up and also unravel conspiracies and fight bad guys (both external threats and internal as in the current Emperor and other parties) XD

*Note: The age old debate is that Gu Yun ‘preyed’ on and also ‘groomed’ Chang Geng, but I disagree and stand by the fact that Gu Yun was 90% of the time not around while Chang Geng grew from a teenager to a young adult as he was fighting wars elsewhere, while Chang Geng refused to stay at the Gu manor and insisted on running around, travelling on his own and seeing the world for a few years before they met again. And it was Chang Geng who’d always loved Gu Yun and devoted himself to caring about him, making advances on him etc. when he became an adult

Other CPs: Shen Yi (Gu Yun’s second-in-command) & Chen Qingxu (a renowned physician who ends up healing both Chang Geng and Gu Yun of their ailments)

Status: Complete!

Translations: Fully translated the last I heard, it’s up there in the list of holy grail BL/danmei novels, so I’m sure it’s done hahaha.

Drama/Live-Action: Filming in progress!

*This is up there in the hall of fame for danmei novels for more than just the amazing content and writing - It’s also famous for being one of the most complex novels ever. I don’t know how the translations team did it because DAMN it was complex and I read all my novels in Chinese without much issues but I was honestly STRUGGLING WITH this one and I went through some existential crisis while reading because I was like ‘did I ever learn Chinese, am I even Chinese’ XD

4. 默读 | Silent Reading by Priest*

Summary: Luo Wenzhou, a police captain, and his team including best friend and partner Tao Ran, face a few challenging cases that end up being small parts of a larger conspiracy, and end up having to consult with Fei Du, a flamboyant, charming and flirty, young and rich CEO, who Luo Wenzhou describes as someone who is an expert at ‘crimes’. Not deduction, not solving crimes, but someone who is familiar with how the murderer or culprits would commit crimes. Both Luo Wenzhou and Tao Ran know Fei Du well, because they first met when Fei Du was in high school, when he called the police because his mother had hanged herself in the house, and since then Tao Ran and Luo Wenzhou look out for him, spending holidays with him, giving him presents here and there. Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du overcome their misunderstandings of each other and fall in love while solving all the cases and the larger conspiracy behind it.

Other CPs: Tao Ran and someone he knew first from his school days or was a neighbour when he was younger, I can’t remember, but they meet again at a blind date and end up living in the same building on different floors XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: Complete!! There’s a huge post floating around on Tumblr with all the links (I can’t find it right now) and on Twitter you can also find the collated, epub versions etc.

Drama/Live-Action: Rights for a live-action was signed, no casting confirmation or set dates yet

5. 犯罪心理 | Criminal Psychology by 长洱*

Summary: Police captain Xing Conglian drags psychologist Lin Chen out of seclusion/hiding to solve a case that is indirectly tied to him. Lin Chen was involved in a case a few years ago that led to four deaths - these four victims were the sons/daughters of four of the five huge old-money (super rich) families in the country and these family members sought to make Lin Chen’s life very difficult for him afterwards by making him lose all the jobs he can find, by surveilling his every move and ensuring that he’s not happy etc. Because of that, he backed out of the police force as well and quietly lived as a school dorm administrator, which is where Xing Conglian finds him a few years later. Lin Chen fakes his death after the first case (not deliberately but kind of a by-the-way thing), but as fate would have it, he ends up meeting Xing Conglian on another case, and he decides that he’ll move in with him and also involve himself again, consequences be damned, and they fall in love!

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet.

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of.

6. 死亡万花筒 | Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪* (MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE)

Summary: Supernatural setting where people who are about to die get a second chance to live. These individuals are either in the midst of a dangerous situation (for e.g. a shootout or a deadly mugging incident) or are about to get into accidents (for e.g. an entire bus going off a bridge or a chandelier dropping from above and crushing the person underneath) or are ill (recently diagnosed with cancer or are terminally ill with a condition for e.g.) - The list is endless, and in the situation between life and death, 12 doors will appear before them.

It is said that once these individuals finish all 12 doors, they will truly get a second chance at life and survive whatever cause of death they were imminently facing.

Each door represents a creepy, supernatural mystery, and Lin Qiushi finds himself in a strange place after opening a door when he was trying to enter his apartment one day. He meets Ruan Baijie, a beautiful, tall woman who he happens to meet, and they realize that in this strange world, he and other individuals who came through the door have to complete a given task, find a key and an exit door, and make it out alive. The others in the team (some of which have already gone through several doors) explain to Lin Qiushi, who is a first-timer, what the doors are about.

The catch is, if they die inside the door, in the real world, they’ll die immediately, by accident, throwing themselves off a building, or just throwing up blood until they die (just to name a few)

On the first night, however, three people are slaughtered and eaten by a long-haired ghost/creature. The good news is, Ruan Baijie isn’t all that she seems to be (for one, she’s not exactly a woman) and she takes a liking to Lin Qiushi immediately.

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet!

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of, but honestly, this novel would be fricking EPIC as a live-action, and really creepy, but this is my all-time favourite novel, I kid you not!!!!

*I’m definitely doing a longer and more detailed to-read for KOD on my translation account, gosh you guys have no idea how much I love this.

7. 当年万里觅封侯 | Those Years in Quest of Honor Mine by 漫漫何其多

Summary: Yu She and Gu Wan were close friends for a short period of time when they were younger, but unfortunately their identities and positions meant that they were opponents. Yu She’s family was for the Second Prince and Gu Wan was taken in by the Sixth Prince’s family, but in the end it was the Second Prince who ended up getting to the throne, while the Sixth Prince was accused of treason and died somewhere far away at war after being captured. Gu Wan’s only wish was to keep the Fifth Prince’s children - Xuan Rui and a pair of twins, Xuan Yu and Xuan Congxin safe, and so he moves them to another province and asks the Emperor (the Second Prince) to demote Xuan Rui’s status to prove that they are no threat to the Emperor, if only to stay alive for another day.

However, their days of hardship have only just begun, and Gu Wan decides to namedrop Yu She, whose family is so powerful now, and claims that Yu She loves him and that he was wooing Gu Wan back in the days they knew each other so that officials and others would treat the children under his care better. A few years pass and Yu She doesn’t expose Gu Wan. Gu Wan thinks they can go on like this forever, until the Emperor asks Xuan Rui and the twins to head back to the palace for a visit.

Gu Wan meets Yu She again, but the boy he knew, who was gentle, a stickler for rules and a proper, well-mannered person, has changed almost completely. Cue palace conspiracies again, brothers fighting for the throne, scheming consorts etc. XD

Other CPs: None XD

Status: Complete!

Translations: I think it’s not complete yet but I’m not super sure on this

Drama/Live-Action: None that I know of!

*They came out with a new reprint edition three days ago and it’s gorgeous! And comes with amazing freebies, and I am a sucker and read it on the day of the printed novel release because I saw the art and loved it, wanted to see if the story was any good, and damn after chapter 2 I WAS GONE and then I checked out two copies from different stores for the two different sets of freebies

A list of those I haven’t read but I see are highly raved about:

1. 二哈和他的白猫师尊 | The Husky & His White Cat Shizun by Meatbun

- I’ve already been spoiled and I know what goes on mostly, and there are a lot of warnings for a reason, but I’m still a fan, and let’s not get into the debate on the content, I know I have to read this but the angst level is apparently ridiculous, so I need like some mental preparation before I sit down for it.

2. 千秋 | A Thousand Autumns by 梦溪石

3. 烈火浇愁 | Lie Huo Jiao Chou by Priest

4. 将进酒 | Qiang Jing Jiu by 唐酒卿

- A really good group of translators picked this up initially on Twitter, but then assholes were complaining that they were being too slow and insisting that machine translation (MTL) did an equally good and faster job, so the OG dropped it, and then another nice team picked it up, but MTL team is still being an asshole XD I’ve heard really good things about this one, it’s apparently quite complex as well, I’d liken it to Shapolang level? But it might be even more complex (with a lot of politics and stuff), so much so that apparently the printed novel comes with a relationship/character chart so readers are at any point in time clear on the characters which is like amazing XD

#danmei #bl novels #novel recs #sci谜案集 #kaleidoscope of death #silent reading #shapolang #犯罪心理 #成化十四年 #the sleuth of ming dynasty #2ha #priest #梦溪石 #meatbun #西子绪 #耳雅 #长洱

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vampiregirl1797 · 5 years ago

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Being in Love & Working at the BAU

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: none that I can think of.

Summary: Y/N realised she was in love with the boy genius of the BAU about six months ago, and she’s been working hard at keeping it under wraps since. Problem? She works with profilers.

When JJ began dating Will it had been obvious to the team from the get go, though the blonde believed she’d done a wonderful job at keeping it from us. At that point, I’d sworn to refrain from hiding anything from the team, because chances are they knew before I worked up the courage to tell them, and also I hated keeping secrets from those I loved.

However, from the moment I realised that I was developing feelings that most definitely were not platonic for a certain member of the team, I found myself taking back my original vow and amending it to the following: be honest about everything but this. And it was difficult. I was constantly monitoring my expressions, my body language and my words whenever I was around him. It was exhausting and stressful, but on the plus side I was almost certain the rest of the team had no idea what was going on.

I blinked, bringing myself back to the present, seeing as I was at work, focus was key. Though to be fair, almost all of the team had retired to their hotel rooms at that point, so I wouldn’t actually be penalised for getting lost in my thoughts for a minute or two. My eyes flickered over the clear board covered with pictures from the three different crime scenes, and individual pictures of each victim. I always wondered what they were thinking in those photos, they always looked happy and it seemed almost wrong that their happiness had to be in the same vicinity as the gruesome images that portrayed their murder.

With a sigh, I grabbed my now empty coffee cup and headed over to the small kitchenette in the station. My gaze fell onto Spencer as I filled my mug and I found myself reaching for a new one to pour him a beverage without even thinking about it.

‘Hey Spence,’ I murmured, my voice soft to avoid startling him too badly as I gently placed his steaming hot beverage in front of him.

‘Hey.’ He returned my smile, his brown eyes shining with exhaustion and warmth, ‘what are you still doing here?’

‘Oh, I—.’ I broke off with a sigh, the genuine concern in his eyes made it impossible to lie to him, especially when it was obvious he already knew the truth, ‘I couldn’t bring myself to leave.’ My eyes fell on the clear board again, and lingered on the happy smiling images before I forced myself to look into the warm and comforting eyes of Dr. Reid, ‘I knew if I did I wouldn’t sleep anyway, so I guess I just didn’t see the point.’

‘I understand.’ His eyes fell to the mug he was now holding between his hands as he spoke, and then lifted to meet mine when he was finished. I felt my heart skip a beat in response, as it always did when his beautiful oak eyes were focused on me.

‘We’re quite the pair, huh?’ I chuckled, running a hand through my hair and fighting back the yawn that wanted to escape my throat, ‘how have you been sleeping?’

I saw how hard he fought to keep the exhaustion from his expression before he admitted defeat and let me see it.

‘Spence,’ I murmured, my hand reaching out and grasping his left one. He removed it from his cup and turned it over so that our hands were linked together, ‘is there anything I can do?’

He’d confided a few months ago that he’d been having really awful, vivid nightmares that kept waking him up throughout the night. Eventually, he avoided sleep all together out of fear of what his unconscious mind was waiting to torture him with. I’d offered some tips that had helped me when I’d gone through the same thing: camomile tea, warm baths with lavender oils and playing a soothing playlist to fall asleep to. Since then he’d been sleeping better, but I’d noticed the familiar dark circles starting to form underneath his eyes again.

‘I do have an idea, but if it would make you uncomfortable then I understand.’ He said, biting his lip and subconsciously holding my hand tighter.

‘Okay, what is it?’ Unable to be unaffected by the anxiety that was practically pouring out of him.

‘I read a study that found those who slept in the same bed as their partner reported a higher quality of sleep and no nightmares.’ He spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear him, and when I did, I had to take a minute to process what he’d suggested.

He wanted me to sleep in the same bed as him. I felt different emotions start to I whirl inside of me, each generating a different answer. The anxiety told me that it absolutely was not a good idea. I already had romantic feelings for Spencer, what if doing this made it all the more complicated and more difficult to hide? Another part of me was determined and demanded that I took the opportunity to comfort him, because I loved him and how was I supposed to turn him away when he needed me to help him? But when I looked over to Spencer’s expression I felt the inner turmoil inside my mind fade away—he looked tired, vulnerable and hopeful. All I felt then was a strong desire to help him get a good nights rest and hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. I couldn’t be selfish with him, and if he needed me I was going to help him, even if it meant me being exposed to the feelings I’d been trying to suppress for months now.

‘Okay, but I warn you— I’ve been told I cuddle in my sleep.’ I said, keeping my tone light to diffuse the tension that had formed between us.

He chuckled, the sound was wonderful and I found myself joining him with ease as we both stood to head back to the hotel. According to the clock in the station it was ten thirty, so hopefully we’d get at least eight hours of sleep. As we made our way to the elevator, I wondered how much one night could alter a dynamic between two people.

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing, emitting Garcia’s personalised ringtone—‘Baby girl’ by Bryce Vine. My hand went to reach for it, but I stopped short when I realised I couldn’t move. Before I had the chance to panic, Spencer’s familiar scent invaded my nostrils; I could smell the mint smell of his shampoo, the faint remnants of his woodsy cologne and the vanilla from the hand lotion he’d borrowed before bed. He was spooning me from behind and I was helpless to stop myself from melting further into his warmth and turning my head to further take in his comforting scent. I was just on the precipice of falling back into the most peaceful sleep I’d had for years when the phone started to ring again.

Spencer stirred this time and grabbed it, groggily promising that he’d be in soon before hanging up and tossing his phone onto the carpeted floor.

‘Was that Garcia?’ I asked, clearing my throat in an attempt to remove the sleep from my voice.

‘Yeah, they have a lead and want us in as soon as possible.’ He sighed, his grip not loosening from around my waist, ‘that was the best nights sleep I’ve had in... god I can’t even remember.’

‘It was for me too.’ I admitted softly, fighting the emotions waging a war inside my head.

I was insanely comfortable in his arms, as if I belonged there... as if I was home. But I was sure to remind myself that the feeling was one-sided—Reid didn’t feel that way about me, and why would he? I was his colleague and a friend they trusted enough to confide in about his sleeplessness. Now was not the time to get lost in my own feelings, this had been about him and I refused to allow myself to get lost in my own head.

‘We should get going.’ I murmured, reluctantly easing from his grip and heading for the bathroom to get dressed.

By the time I emerged, Spencer was gone and I tried to ignore the way that made my stomach drop to my feet. I sent a thumbs up to the text he sent me:

Headed to the station, I’ll see you there. Thanks again for last night. Spencer.

When I arrived at the station I headed straight for the coffee before joining the others at the rectangular table in the conference room. I noticed Emily’s surprised look when she noticed I hadn’t bought a mug for Spencer but I ignored it, unwilling to focus on how I was feeling. Right now I had a job to do, there was no time to deal with the rejection and abandonment coursing through my veins.

‘Garcia found a link, each victim was registered to a chat room discussing different fantasy novels.’ Hotch announced from where he was stood at the head of the table, his head down as he flicked through one of the case files.

‘And each agreed to a face to face meeting the night before their death with someone by the username Red Youn. I tried tracking the IP address but he’s a smart cookie and re-routed through about a million different servers.’ Garcia revealed from the speaker in the centre of the table.

‘Red Youn is an anagram for your end.’ I thought aloud, ignoring a certain pair of eyes I could feel boring into the side of my head, ‘what if he sees himself as the antagonist in his own version of a fantasy novel?’

‘That would explain the similarities in victimology.’ Morgan commented, talking about their almost identical appearances.

‘But how would he know that before meeting them?’ My lips pursed, ‘were any of the women in contact with anyone new before they died?’

‘Ahh, sugar you always ask the best questions.’ Garcia praised, ‘yes all three women spoke to a man with the same number on the days leading up to their death. This included sending photographs and discussing their favourite villains in different fantasy novels. I’m sending you the name and address of the person this number is registered to.’

‘Garcia you are wonderful.’ I said, a genuine smile forming on my lips, it was small but it was the first sign of happiness I’d shown since I’d left my hotel room this morning.

‘Aw, tell me something I don’t know.’ She teased before she hung up and we all geared up and headed for the unsub’s residence.

We had a suspect to arrest.

We’d managed to apprehend Jacob Kerwoski successfully and we’d all decided to celebrate with a meal prepared by Rossi at his humble abode. After we’d finished the food we all separated off for different activities— Derek had challenged Garcia to a game of darts, Rossi and Hotch were talking in the library and sharing stories of past cases, Emily and JJ were sat outside each holding a glass of wine and whispering about something they had to keep their voices low for. Reid and I were sat in the living room, I was personally too full to move so I was slowly sinking further and further into the soft cushions around me.

I was grateful that my stomach felt like it was exploding, it provided a distraction from the elephant in the room. I hadn’t directly spoken to Reid since this morning and I didn’t know how to break the awkwardness that existed between us now. I knew it was partly due to my inability to hide my rejection this morning after I’d returned to an empty room once I’d dressed. But it wasn’t his fault that I’d taken it so personally due to my romantic feelings for him.

‘Reid?’ My voice was soft and tentative.

‘Y-yeah?’ He stuttered, surprised that I’d broken the silence in the room.

‘I’m sorry how I’ve been acting around you today. I just wanted you to know that it’s nothing to do with you, it’s my own issues that I need to deal with.’

He was silent for a long moment after I spoke, his eyes just staring into mine as if he were debating whether or not he should say something. It was a look I was used to seeing on his face— Spence often had thoughts, facts and information swimming around in his head and he had to filter himself. But his next words took me by surprise and had my heart beating out of my chest.

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ His voice was soft that I questioned if I’d heard him correctly, but the serious expression on his face assured me that I had.

‘H-how do I feel about you Spence?’ I asked, nervously clearing my throat.

‘For the first few years of us knowing each other, you cared for me as a friend, but that changed about six months ago. I don’t know why, and nothing obvious changed in your behaviour. You still bring me coffee, still hug me when I need it, still offer to help me with anything and everything when I need someone to rely on. But the way you look at me now, it’s... softer and warmer. You didn’t used to look at me that way before.’ He said, his voice slower than it usually was when he explained something, his calmness made my heart stutter in my chest.

‘The way you look at me now, it’s the same way that JJ and Will look at each other, except more intense.’ He scooted closer to me on the sofa, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, ‘I noticed it because I’ve been looking at you the same way for the past year.’

I blinked and my mouth fell open as my brain short circuited with the new information. Spencer had been looking at me the same way— how had I never noticed that before? I’d been so concentrated on not revealing my feelings— that I’d apparently sucked at doing— that I hadn’t noticed a change in Spence’s behaviour like he had in mine. I’d say I was a terrible profiler but I knew that I never would have noticed regardless of anything else, because I’d always believed he deserved better than me.

‘Y-you love me?’ I breathed, the emotion in my voice rendering me incapable of speaking higher than a whisper.

‘I do.’ His smile was soft, his eyes sparkled with an affectionate warmth that simultaneously made my heart melt, and breath catch in my throat.

I’m not sure who moved forward first, or if we both moved at the same time, but the next thing my mind registered was his lips moving agains mine. It started out tentative, but as Spencer’s hand slid in my hair and pulled me even closer to his chest, the kiss deepened. My hands went to his shoulders and slid up to his scalp to curl into his tousled hair. I felt him moan into my mouth when I gently tugged on the strands, and when he started to guide me to lay back onto the sofa I went willingly, pulling him along with me.

It was hard not to get too lost in the kiss, or to take it further than we should, because finally being with him just felt so right and natural. But eventually we pulled away, reminded that we were at risk of someone walking in on us when Garcia and Derek started cheering in the other room.

‘That was...’ I trailed off, my brain still too lost from the electricity of the kiss, ‘wow.’

‘I-I ugh couldn’t agree more.’ Spencer murmured, his hand sliding from my hair so that he could wind his arm around my shoulders.

As I melted into his side, we chatted quietly for the rest of the night, our voices no higher than a whisper as it wasn’t necessary and it allowed us to revel in our own little bubble. It was much later, when we were both on the cusp of sleep that I nuzzled my face into the side of his neck and murmured the words I’d been holding back for six months now.

‘I love you Spence.’ My eyes fluttered closed and just before I fell into unconsciousness, I heard my genius return the sentiment.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face and a heart overflowing with pure happiness.

A/N: As you can probably guess I’m still watching criminal minds, and finding myself wishing a man like Spencer Reid existed in real life. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #Criminal Minds

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maaaddiexo · 4 years ago

Text

The Within Series | Legolas Greenleaf

Book 1: The Devil Within - 1.8

Mainlist | Serieslist

Nyx of Tyndall does not know love or kindness. Cursed at a young age by a jealous witch, Nyx has lived a life of solitude and death.

Until Gandalf the Grey requests her presence and uncontrollable skill in assisting a young Hobbit across Middle-Earth with nine others to destroy a ring so powerful all fall victim to its evil.

Not only must Nyx face Orcs, demons, and creatures she’s never seen before, but also the devil inside. Controlling the devil is the key to finding freedom in a spell that can’t be broken. But it will not be so easy for Nyx when every obstacle she faces pushes her to an edge she cannot return from.

Chapter Eight

Nyx marched through the halls of Rivendell angrily. Flight of stairs after flight of stairs she went until she was at the highest lookout point the Elves of Rivendell had built. The sound of water cascading down the mountain drowned out the sound of blood pumping angrily in her ears, but she could still feel it nonetheless. She crossed a small arched bridge in front of waterfall. The mist that came off put out the smoke on her cape.

Nyx discarded her cloak angrily, throwing it on the floor and kicking it away. Her face burned with anger and she rubbed her face, frustrated tears running down her cheeks. Not even a week she’d worn the ring and already it had torn down the defenses she’d spent over a decade building up. She braced herself against the stone balcony railing.

“Focus, Nyx. Like Gandalf taught you.”

“Milady Nyx?” An Elf stood timidly at the top of the stairs. Clearly, he knew he was interrupting something. “Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes.”

“Tell Elrond and Gandalf I will not be attending. They will understand.”

The Elf hesitated and then bowed. “Of course, Milady Nyx. Would you like to have it sent to your room?”

Nyx hesitated and then nodded curtly.

The Elf bowed once more and then descended the stairs quickly and Nyx felt her knees give out, splitting when they hit the stone. Her fingers gripped the stone spindles and her head rested against them. Nyx couldn’t find it in herself to move. Not even as the sun began to set and the temperature dropped.

Nyx was tired. She could go no further.

⍥⍥⍥

When Nyx woke up the next morning, she was still on the outlook, her cloak wrapped around her like a blanket with leaves in her hair.

Someone was touching her shoulder. She saw the familiar staff before she heard the voice.

“My dear, why sleep on the floor when you’ve been offered a bed.”

Nyx looked away. All around her were burnt leaves and grass. Her fingertips were black with ash. She’d spent a long time trying to control her anger the night before. And though she hadn’t burned down a gazebo, Rivendell wasn’t completely unscathed. “What time is it?”

“The Council is about to begin but Frodo refused to start without you. He insists you be part of the meeting.”

Nyx frowned. She wanted no part of the Ring and its journey, wherever it led. Not after what it did to her in less than a week. She felt the anger in her, glowing bright. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly.

“Come on. Up you get.” Gandalf helped Nyx to her feet and began to fret over her, pulling the leaves and twigs out of her hair and brushing down her cloak. “That’ll do.”

Nyx frowned and self-consciously pulled her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. They descended the stairs quickly, Nyx trailing behind the grey wizard. “Gandalf, I do not want to go with the Ring.”

“You do not have to. But attend for Frodo’s sake. Here,” he grabbed Nyx’s scythe and placed it in her hands. There was still dried blood on it from the last time she used it. “Come.”

Everyone was already seated in the Council Room and Nyx moved to stand behind Frodo’s chair. He smiled gratefully at her over his shoulder. She tried to smile back but wasn’t sure how convincing it was.

“Strangers from distant lands,” Elrond began. “Friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall.”

Nyx found Aragorn’s eyes across the circular room, fear brimming in her eyes. Her gave her a calm smile before turning to look at someone else. The Elf from the day before. They shared a familiar look with one another. A look of familiarity and friendship.

“Each race is bound to this fate – this one doom,” Elrond continued. “Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.”

Frodo stood on shaky legs, looking at Gandalf and then Nyx behind him. She nodded encouragingly at him. He reached into his pocket as he walked towards the small stone table in the middle, octagonal in shape. He placed it on the stone gently but still, everyone heard it thud, like a boulder hitting the bottom of chasm.

Immediately, the Ring began to hum and sing, and everyone sat forward in their chairs, drawn to it. Except for Nyx. She took a step back in fear. Her fingers began to warm.

“So, it is true,” a man murmured. He stood up slowly. “In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the west, a pale light lingered. Voices crying. Our doom is near at hand.” He moved closer to the Ring. “Isildur’s Bane is found.” He reached his hand forward. “Isildur’s Bane.”

“Boromir!” Elrond shouted. The man stood up with a fright, shaken out the Ring’s lure, and looked to the sky in shock as it began to darken.

Gandalf stood, reaching a hand to the sky. He began to chant in Black Speech.

Ash nazg durbatulûk

Ash nazg gimbatul

Ash nazg thrakatulûk

Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul

Nyx stared at the Ring, reciting the translation under her breath. It was the inscription on the Ring.

“One Ring to rule them all,

One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all

And in the darkness bind them.”

With Gandalf’s word, the sky brightened as fast as it darkened and everyone sat back down except for Nyx, who had no seat.

“Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris.”

“I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond,” Gandalf said to Elrond. “For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west. The Ring is altogether evil,” he reminded the people in front of him.

Boromir shook his head. “It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay! By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!”

“It cannot be used against its true master,” Nyx said angrily. “All it does is pull the evil from within and make you a monster.”

“And what do you, a mere girl, know about the Ring?” Another man spat at her. The rage bubbled in Nyx and her fingers did more than warm. Someone laid a hand on arm. Gandalf.

“Nyx is right,” Aragorn said. “You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”

“And what would a Ranger know of this matter? You are no more experienced than the girl!”

“This is no mere Ranger.” Nyx watched as the silver-haired elf stood up. “He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.” Aragorn and the Elf did know each other.

“And it would not be wise to insult Nyx,” Elrond added. “For she has the nasty habit of catching fire.”

“Witch!” A man hissed. Nyx glared at him, her eyes flaming orange. It was one of the few tricks she’d picked up over the years. The man gasped and then fainted, and Nyx smirked. She swore she heard Gandalf chuckle too.

Boromir looked at Nyx and then Aragorn. He chose to focus on the latter. “This is Isildur’s heir?”

“And heir to throne of Gondor,” the Elf added. Nyx winced. Salt in the wound, if you asked her.

“Havo dad, Legolas.” Nyx glanced at the elf as he obeyed his friend’s words to sit down. So his name was Legolas.

“Gondor has no King,” Boromir said. “Gondor needs no King.”

“Then what does that make you?” Nyx wondered.

Gandalf spoke before Boromir could respond to Nyx’s angry words. “Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.”

“You have only one choice,” Elrond added. “The Ring must be destroyed.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” The Dwarf with ginger hair and a thick Scottish accent stood up and swung his axe. His axe should have shattered the Ring. Instead, the axe splintered into pieces and the Dwarf was thrown onto his back.

Frodo flinched, grabbing for his head. Sauron’s Eye flashed in his mind.

Nyx dropped to the ground, feeling a stabbing pain in her chest as images flashed in her mind. White hair. Fire. A blade dripping in blood. Somebody screaming. She coughed and black liquid splattered onto the stone. Ichor. Her cheek burned.

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.”

Nyx wiped at her lips with the sleeve of her dress and stood up on weak legs. Gandalf offered her his arm.

“One of you must do this.”

There was silence all around.

“One does not simply walk into Mordor,” Boromir argued quietly. “Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly.”

“Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?” Legolas demanded. “The Ring must be destroyed!”

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it!” Gimli argued.

“And if we fail, what then?” Boromir added, standing up. “What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?”

Gimli stood up – not that it made him any taller. “I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!”

The other Elves stood at Gimli’s insult and, soon enough, everyone was standing and yelling over one another. Frodo sat still, staring at the Ring as it called for him.

“Nyx?”

“Yes, Frodo?”

“I think it needs to be me.”

“Are you saying that because It calls to you or because you are strong enough to fight Its call?”

“I’m doing it because I don’t want to do it. Everyone is fighting to be the one because they don’t want somebody else to do it. I just want it done.”

Nyx smiled. “Then say so.”

Frodo’s announcement went unheard the first time. And the second. Nyx huffed and grabbed her scythe, which she had placed on the ground at the beginning of the meeting. She lifted it and swung it down against the concrete as hard as she could. The blade embedded itself in the concrete until no more metal could be seen. The crack echoed all across Rivendell and across the ponds and ocean, bouncing off the sides of the cliff. The Men, Elves, Dwarves, and Wizard stopped arguing instantly.

Elrond sighed indignantly. “Why must you always break something when you visit?”

“Because you ignorant and stubborn men never listen. Now, shut up and sit down. All of you.” She stepped back as Frodo stepped forward, swallowing thickly. His hands were so sweaty.

“I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though…I do not know the way.”

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins.” Gandalf gently touched the young Hobbit’s shoulder in reassurance. “So long as it is yours to bear.”

Aragorn stood. “If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will.” He walked across the circular room and knelt at Frodo’s feet. “You have my sword.”

“And you have my bow.” Legolas moved to Frodo too, passing Nyx on the way.

“And my axe,” Gimli promised.

Boromir stepped forward slowly. “You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done.”

Nyx stared at Boromir a moment longer. She didn’t like the way he spoke to Frodo, and she certainly didn’t like the faraway look in his eye.

“Heh!” Something brushed the side of Nyx’s skirt and she watched as Sam jumped from behind some bushes and ran to Frodo’s side, crossing his arms. “Mister Frodo’s not going anywhere without me.”

Elrond looked down at Sam in both disappointment and pride. “No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not.”

“Doing some gardening again are we, Master Gamgee?” Gandalf asked with a pointed look in his eyes.

Sam looked down at his feet awkwardly. Nyx smiled.

From the other end, someone shouted. “Oi! Wait! We’re coming too!”

Nyx bit back her laughter at Elrond’s expression as the two cousins rushed to stand beside Frodo as well.

“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” Merry insisted.

“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing.”

Merry looked at Pippin. “Well, that rules you out, Pip.”

Pippin looked offended. Frodo turned around to look at Nyx, who was standing separate from the group.

“What about you, Nyx? Will you come with me?”

“You want me to?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Aragorn said. “We could use a dragon in our company.”

Nyx smiled. For once, the name she’d been given wasn’t be used in anger or fear. “Then you shall have her.”

“Ten companions. So be it,” Elrond announced. “You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”

Part 1.9 ➺

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def-initely-soul · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get the "we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and i’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realising Feelings" prompt with taeyong? I'm asking it to be cute cause I know if I ask for sexual tension you're gonna write a novel 😂😂😂😂 so could you make it fluffy and light? :3

AHAHAHAHHAAHAHAH I-

*ignoring your jab at my inability to write anything small xD*

ofc i’ll make it fluffy and light!

pairing: taeyong from nct x reader (f.)

prompts: we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and i’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realising Feelings

genre: fluff; angst; f2l; PG-13

warnings: mature language

words: 1.8k

“So how you holdin’ up?” Johnny asks you and you resist to throw your drink at him.

You’re getting honestly tired of having people ask you that. It’s the sixth time someone did! For heaven’s sake, you’re fine!

You chuckle. “I’m fine, Johnny, why wouldn’t I be?” you respond, casually taking a sip of your apple cider as you walk down the food stalls, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin filling your nostrils.

Your town has a Halloween fair every year to celebrate the holiday, days before it’s even Halloween. It’s a great opportunity to go out during this month, as families find some time for some quality time bonding and couples walk around to bask in the crisp autumn wind. There are food stalls everywhere, having some of the most delicious treats for the holiday, a haunted house at the end of the food stalls for anyone daring and a corn maze as well. As for those more willing to take a step back and use this opportunity to relax, there is a carousel, faded and dark to fit the mood, a fortune teller’s stall, as well as a ghost train ride.

Honestly, it’s not much compared to other funfairs but you enjoy whatever you can get. Every year you and your friends come here to walk through the corn maze, to board on the ghost train ride, to eat until you’re full. And also to join the couple’s costume contest with your best friend Taeyong. You’re not a couple, not even close but you both had such magnificent ideas for couple's costumes that you decided to give it a try. And it became something like a shtick. You and Taeyong being known among your friends as the ones that joined the couple’s contest together and enduring merciless teasing at that. Even if you said numerous times there’s nothing going on between you.

But this year Taeyong decided to join with someone else. A girl from his work named Dara.

You scoff. You didn’t even know her before he announced he was gonna join with her this year. And it was completely out of the blue too! He never hinted he was interested in someone, let alone tell you might want to stop dressing up with you.

Johnny cocks an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really? Then why are you clenching at your cup like a witch draining her victim?”

Your eyes widen as they immediately fly at your hand to confirm this; only to realize Johnny is lying.

He’s smirking at you as if catching you on the act. “Made you look…” he teases and you roll your eyes, refusing to answer him.

“I don’t get it though, why won’t you admit that you’re-”

“What?” you interrupt him with a stiff voice, “Jealous? It’s because I’m not!” is your zealous reply though Johnny’s features are drawn in, in a mask of suspiciousness.

“I would’ve said mad…” he admits and once again you freeze, realizing you’ve dug your own grave.

“But now that you’ve mentioned it… Are you jealous?” he looks at you curiously, not an ounce of teasing colouring his voice and you purse your lips together in a stubborn attempt to not give him an answer.

You desperately want to say you’re not. You can’t be. Taeyong is your best friend and who he decides to involve himself with is none of your business. You want to say those spiteful feelings inside of you are simply because he ditched you. You really do.

But somehow the words won’t come out your mouth. Somehow you can’t find it in your self to speak them into existence, instead resting heavily on your tongue and burning you.

“I-... No! Of course not…” you manage to say instead, swallowing the lump in your throat with great difficulty as you result in looking anywhere else but Johnny.

But your actions, unfortunately, lead your eyes to a much more unwanted sight. Towards the end of the stalls, near the haunted house, your eyes rest on a particular couple dressed as dead Bonnie and Clyde that talk enthusiastically, the girl’s hand resting on the guy’s shoulder.

Your chest constricts painfully, sucking in a breath as you bite roughly at your bottom lip to stop the sound that was about to leave your mouth. Your hands instinctively move upwards to hug yourself, partly telling yourself it’s because of the cold but partly knowing the actual truth.

You actually have feelings for your best friend. And it sucks to see him with someone else, doing a thing you used to do together, only they do it as a fucking actual couple.

Fuck, it seems to hurt more now that you’ve admitted it to yourself.

Your eyes sting as you struggle to not let your face fall and reveal your current state but your eyes don’t move from Dara and Taeyong, not even when Dara leans in to whisper something close to his ear with a deadly smirk. Not even when a few seconds later, Taeyong turns around to look straight at you with wide eyes.

Shit.

You turn around immediately, knowing you won’t be able to keep the tears at bay and you spew a ridiculous excuse to Johnny before storming off. Wanting to go as far away as possible. To just disappear.

A few minutes later and you’ve hidden inside the corn maze, too late for anyone to attempt to enter it, much less the one person you’d actually want to.

Taeyong is ridiculously afraid of corn mazes, not much like you. You adore them, finding your way out of one being both thrilling and challenging for you and you’ve never had been lost in one. That’s why the only time Taeyong ever went inside one was with you.

You sniffle at the memory, wiping your tears away and try as hard as you can to not shed another. You refuse to cry anymore over something that can’t change even if it hurts like hell.

And it does. It fucking does.

But purely will isn’t enough to help you stop the tears.

You hear a shuffling coming from somewhere in the distance, signalling someone entered the maze but you pay them no attention. You only hope that in the case they see you, they will be discreet about it and leave you to your misery.

You can’t handle being around people for the time being.

“Y/N? Are you here?” the shuffling is now accompanied by a voice, a voice you know too well and you panic realizing it’s much closer now.

You hurry to get up, brushing the dirt off your bride of Frankenstein costume before walking with a fast pace deeper into the maze.

Why the fuck is Taeyong here?! And more importantly why in the world did he think going into a maze would be a good idea? He’ll get lost!

Taeyong’s eyes catch you slipping away and at once he runs after you. “Y/N, wait! I need to talk to you!” he calls after you, following you and you curse at his stubbornness.

You refuse to answer him as you run deeper into the maze, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. You don’t want to face him right now, not when he probably wants to call you out on your little staring earlier or tell you how he got together with Dara.

You try to pat your face dry as you rush away, hoping you didn’t mess your makeup much. After all, you’ll need to get out at some point, let’s at least save as much dignity as possible.

“Y/N, can you just wait!” Taeyong yells exasperatedly, before murmuring to himself “great, I had to get lost as well…”. You can almost hear the pout in his voice and a giggle escapes you.

At once Taeyong snaps his head towards the sound before rushing towards you again. You curse yourself before moving again, refusing to get out of the maze cause at least this way it won’t be easy for him to find you.

“Y/N, please wait, I have to tell you something important!” you hear him say and your heart almost stops. You were right, he wants to tell you he finally got together with Dara. Oh, god, you’re gonna cry again, shit.

You pick up the pace, running once again away from him and you hear him curse in exasperation before-.

“I LIKE YOU!” the declaration fills the empty air and it takes you a second to realise Taeyong was the one speaking. But when you do, your feet stop. They get stuck to the earth beneath you as if you’ve stepped on glue and you can’t move to save your life. Your heart beats erratically, almost out of your chest as you struggle to comprehend what he just said.

“I-... I like you and I only went out with Dara cause I’d thought it’d make you jealous enough to admit you like me too and spur you into action. But it seemed to have the opposite effect…” he reveals with a wary voice, as he sighs, tired.

You stay alert, for everything he says as you struggle to understand. So he’s not with Dara? This was all a ruse?

And most importantly, he likes you?

“I know, it was pretty stupid of me and I’ll understand if you want to stay mad at me and refuse to talk, but please can we just get out? I’ll like to look at you while I’m talking to you and, besides, you know I’ll be probably stuck here if left alone…” he jokes lightly, uncertainty in his voice.

You take a breath and your chest fills and blooms with lightness. The heartbreak from before disappears and gives its space to a wonderful feeling of lightness and hope.

You turn around to find your way to him.

After a few seconds, Taeyong sees you coming up behind a corner and he exhales in relief. Before he sees your intense stare and your firm, decisive stride as you practically march towards him and now he fears for his life.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to tell you like that, please don’t-” he pleads quickly but is soon halted by your hands grabbing at his collar and your lips on top of his.

You take him by surprise as he makes a startling noise, but then as he finally realizes the predicament he’s in, he’s quick to drive his hands on your waist as he reciprocates.

It’s a soft kiss, tender as if enveloping you in his warmth and you bask in the comfort and elation that appear with his lips. You sigh in content as you press closer and his palm cradles your cheek lovingly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.

You stop kissing to catch your breath, staring at each other breathlessly with the widest smiles you’ve ever seen on each other.

Because this feels right. It feels like home.

#kwritersworldnet #taeyong #nct #taeyong nct #taeyong fanfic #nct fanfic #taeyong scenario #nct scenario #taeyong fluff #nct fluff #taeyong angst #nct angst #taeyong halloween #nct halloween #halloween #halloween themed #halloween requests

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eeviewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Send My Love to the Sea | Chapter One

pairing ♡ roronoa zoro/original female character content warnings ♡ implied abuse word count ♡ 4,821 arc ♡ shizumi bay [ chapters one - current ]

By the time Kaz made it back to the bunk room, all of her fingers had gone numb from the bitter winter cold. They were already brittle and red from having spent the last four hours cleaning, her fingernails weak and broken. This time of year, the island’s temperature dropped below freezing regularly, and navigating became another challenge to face. The roads were covered in thick slabs of black ice, and many of the island’s residents were left trapped inside their homes by intense blizzard’s. Despite the weather conditions, Kaz still made the forty minute trek to Wainwright’s manor each morning.

As she pushed open the door, the rush of warm air flooded over her face, and Kaz sighed contentedly. The other girls turned to look at her over their shoulders, before greetings rose from her bunk mates. There were five of them, not including Kaz, who stayed in Bunk Room #1. They were the ones that had been on the island the longest. The thought filled her with a sense of melancholy as she shrugs off her scarf, setting it on her bed. Already, she’d spent three years of her life imprisoned on this island.

Three years of her life gone, spent living in servitude to the man who had stolen them.

“You’re back late.”

Kaz glances over her shoulder at the group of girls. They sit packed together close to the fire, wearing their blankets over their shoulders and two layers of socks each. Each of the girls had come at different times, Sorscha being the first, and Saori being the last in room one. Sorscha looks at her now, eyes raised in question, and Kaz remembers that she’d spoken.

“Ya,” She sighs, “Melanie is sick.”

The news leaves her troubled, her limbs aching and mind a frenzy as she sits on the edge of the bed next to the fire. Melanie was older than the rest of them, but she’d always gone out of her way to take care of them. On the island, the girls had no allies, only fellow comrades, victims to the greedy man who’d kidnapped them. Losing Melanie would be like losing a mother, and dying on this island filled her with such a sense of guilt and sadness that her eyes filled with fresh tears, threatening to spill over.

Still, it did not change the fact that often left Kaz sick to her stomach - the truth was simple yet morbid. There were many who came to the island unaware that they would never be free again, destined to die of either sickness or crime. In admitting that the fact was true, it felt like giving up all hope of ever leaving.

“Is it bad,” Sorscha asks, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes focused on the glowing fire. “Ya. He seems flustered.”

They didn’t say his name here, not in the only space they had that was theirs. During their time living together, they’d fallen into a natural delusion, a mutual agreement between girls that inside the bunk room, Wainwright was not their captor, and that someday, they would be free again. Often, Kaz dreamed of returning to the sea, to feel the gentle lap of the waves against a ship, to smell the ocean water up close. More than anything, she longed to return to her adventure.

“I wonder if he will replace her.”

Of course he will, Kaz wants to say, but she doesn’t, staring down at the cracked concrete floor. It goes orange in the light of the fire, shadows dancing against the cool surface. Sorscha looks at her again, her eyes a lit with questioning, and a deep desire to understand. Everytime she looked at her like that, Kaz always wondered if she could actually see right through her. If perhaps Sorscha knew all along what Kaz was thinking, who she was. She was good at reading people, at understanding even the most complex feelings and thought processes.

It both intrigued and frightened Kaz, that a girl without power could make her feel so exposed. She felt as though if she stared long enough at her, that Sorscha would somehow figure out even her most well kept secrets, and the possibility made her stomach twist in tight knots. Finally, Sorscha looked away then, her eyes drifting back to the fire.

Silence passed between them then, the atmosphere low and somber as they huddled together in an attempt to ward off the cold. The night was especially brutal, the wind pounding and rattling the thin window panes of the bunk room. She could hear the air seeping in, emitting a high pitched whooshing noise as it slipped past through the aged wood window frame.

“It’s too cold to sleep out here,” Faye grumbled, pulling her blanket tighter around her thin shoulders.

Faye was twenty-four, though she looked much older, and was the eldest of the women in the first room. She’d come after Kaz, had grouched at them for months and fought relentlessly against Wainwright until it earned her a handful of deep, rigid scars across her body. Kaz still remembered the day she stumbled back into the bunk room, her entire body coated in slick warm blood, her eyes distant and dazed. It’d been terrifying, seeing one of their own brought so close to death.

But he didn’t want Faye dead - it wasn’t about killing her. It was about making a statement, not only about her defiance, but to them, about the consequences of their refusal to serve him. After that, Faye relinquished her desire to fight, but there was always a sense of distrust and defiance that would flash in her eyes every now and then. Kaz could see it then, flickering in the warm light of the fire.

“What other options are there,” Another girl, Anzu, says exasperated.

None of the girls respond to her, each lost in a separate thought that keeps them busy. They say nothing because there are no other options. The night grows heavy as the storm rages on, shaking the windows as the girls pull the mattresses from the beds, lining them up around the fire. Still, even with her blanket, the fire, and her jacket, Kaz could not fight the slight chill that had settled in her bones, nor did the feeling return to her hands.

The morning was bright, filled both with the light of the sun, and the thick coverage of fresh snow. It was quiet when Kaz left, the rest of the girls still deep in their slumber. It was just past six am, her footsteps leaving deep prints in the snow as she trudged through, feeling the soft powder fall into her boots and soak her socks. It was a twenty minute trek to the manor when the weather was decent, but as Kaz looked out the vast expanse of the field, she knew that it would take her twice as long, due to the depth of the snow.

Wainwright didn’t offer them transport, but wouldn’t hesitate to seek them out if they failed to show up on time. Kaz worked the closest to him, acting some days as his secretary and others as a member of the defense teams, spending the day with members of his crew at various stations. She enjoyed Island Guard the most. It meant that she could spend the whole day looking out at the ocean, watching the waves crash over the shore, awaiting the arrival of another ship.

She’d never seen one during her time, had never even heard of another ship docking. People evaded the island, mostly because of its reputation. Wainwright had a hold on people in this part of the sea, so their rescue was at that point, impossible. They were not strong enough to stand against his crew of pirates, let alone Wainwright himself. The thought left Kaz with a bitter taste in her mouth, though she had long accepted that she would be on this island for a while.

Whenever he brought new girls, they always questioned the older girls, accusing them of being loyal to Wainwright. With each of them, Kaz heard the same sneering questions, the furious accusations and abhorrent disgust that covered their faces as they threw out allegations. They believed that because Kaz and the others wouldn’t leave or escape, they were fighting for him. But eventually, they all learned.

Escape was an impossible idea filled with a million things preventing them from even coming within a fraction of it. They had no ship, nor could they come close enough to the shore to even embark. They would notice all of them moving, and besides - it wasn’t just about them. There were five other bunk rooms, each with six girls. Kaz could never forgive herself for leaving anyone behind, she feared what even one person’s escape meant for the rest of them.

Thirty-six girls to free was no easy task, and Kaz was the only one of them that had a Devil fruit ability, perhaps the only one with any actual combat experience. It was an impossible feat for how things were now, and so quietly tucked the idea back into a corner of her mind, deciding not to dwell on it. Dwelling on it would only bring her down, and Wainwright would sense her unease, and no doubtedly make things worse for his entertainment.

She sucked in a breath, wrapping her hands around her as she squinted in the light. The small town had finally come into view, seemingly abandoned with boarded up windows and closed shutters. It was no unfamiliar sight, however. The town always looked like this after a particularly harsh snow storm, and no one had any use to open their shops or restaurants, because who was going to get out on a day like this?

Kaz laughed bitterly. She was getting out on a day like this, when the residents were still nestled warmly in their beds, fast asleep, the idea of working or going out far from their minds. She had no choice, however. Neither did any of the girls, or other slaves, for that matter. The weather did not stop functions at Wainwright manor by any means, and so regardless of any conditions, she was expected to be there.

She trudges past the empty storefronts, sucking cold air into her burning lungs. Her hands burned still from the long exposure to chemicals and the cold the night before. She kept them buried deep into her coat pockets, curled tightly into fists. A gust of wind sweeps her soft, wheat blond hair off her shoulders. It’s gone brittle, damaged from numerous factors. There was a time in which Kaz was considered the most beautiful girl on her island. It was long ago, back in the East Blue, when things were so different and much easier, before she decided to become a pirate, and before she got captured.

Now, that beauty is all but a ghost of the past, and Kaz is an echo of who she once was. Though she has grown stronger thanks to her devil fruit, she’s still ages away from being able to defeat Wainwright, and even further away from escaping without casualties.

Slowly storefronts give way to a seemingly endless road, concealed on both sides by numerous trees, each covered in fluffy snow. When she passes through the flat strip, the manor comes into view through the treeline. It’s a tall, four story building that contains over several bedrooms, multiple bathrooms, a private theater, a chef’s kitchen, and a massive office on the top floor overlooking the entire city, the best view of the ocean on the entire island.

In front of the door, two guards are placed, their eyes focused intensely on her as she approaches them slowly, stomping awkwardly through the snow. She almost trips on the stairs up to the porch, but maintains her balance, keeping her eyesight forward as they open the door for her, a permanent grimace on their faces.

They always look at them like that - with either fury or desire. Both left Kaz feeling uncomfortable and exposed, and quickly made her way towards the staff rooms. In the back of the manor down one of the lost hallways, was a series of rooms dedicated to staff functions. Kaz makes an effort to go there first. She wants to know about Melanie, and the manor servants loved gossip more than anything.

Immediately upon entrance, Kaz ducks her head into a small room with only a table and three chairs. Four people turn to look at her, their eyes a mixture of surprise and distrust. Familiarity crosses their faces, however, and in a second their shoulders fall, mistrust leaving their bodies.

“It’s just you,” One of them, Virgil says.

Kaz stares down at the woman, refusing to smile. She never liked Virgil, and dislikes even more having to rely on her for any information. Still, she forces herself to release the tension in her shoulders and lean against the wall, trying hard to appear casual. Starting trouble now was pointless, and Kaz’s only concern was finding out about Melanie. Fighting wasn’t one of her desires today.

“You look rough,” Virgil grins, lifting a cigarette to her lips, “You sure work hard for him.”

Kaz bites her tongue, hard, jolts of pain shooting through the appendage as she tries desperately to maintain her composure. Virgil was lazy, a laundry maid whose only job was to fold and hang clothes. She didn’t know, Kaz thought.

“It’s not just about me,” Kaz says, “if I decide to go against him, I’m not the only one getting punished. All the girls are.” “So?”

Kaz sits back, stunned.

“If I had even the slimmest chance of escaping by myself, I wouldn’t look back once at the rest of these people.”

She says it and then ashes her cigarette, the bright ember glowing at her, angry.

“How is Melanie,” Kaz forces herself to say.

The truth is, if she dwells any longer on Virgil’s lack of empathy, Kaz was going to reach over the table and strangle her. Virgil scoffs, her eyes flicking down to the table. Though she cared little for others, Kaz knew that Melanie’s illness affected her too.

“The ship doctor began treating her several hours ago, but he hasn’t said what it is, I’m not sure he has any idea either.”

“Did he say anything else?”

Virgil sighed, refusing to meet her eyes.

“That she’s going to die if he can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

She felt like someone had punched her then, hearing only her roaring heartbeat in her ears as she stared at Virgil. Melanie couldn’t die on this island, it wouldn’t be fair, and though things were rarely fair for them, it was an injustice Kaz couldn’t force herself to stomach. She pushed herself off the wall, not bothering to say goodbye to Virgil or the other’s sitting with her. Wainwright would be awake soon, and if she wasn’t in his office when he arrived, she’d be punished.

Quickly, Kaz bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time. Servants were already bustling around, busy with their respective duties. She passed maids carrying fresh linens, one’s holding stacks of fine china, silverware to be polished before breakfast. Her stomach growled at the thought of breakfast, but the snow had made her late, and she was running out of time. She made it up to the fourth floor, trying hard to conceal her heaving chest.

Though she still considered herself a strong fighter, Kaz could never breath by the time she made it to the office. Her mouth was dry when she pushed open the heavy double doors. Inside, the office was empty and silent, the room cold and smelling faintly of citrus. It was Kaz’s favorite room in the manor because of the massive floor to ceiling windows that allowed her to see all the way out to the ocean, but further than she could while on the shore.

Kaz watched the sunlight twinkle on the waves, and longed greatly to return to a ship and feel the gentle rock of the ocean. She looked for only a minute before directing her attention to the desk in the center of the room. It was covered with papers and folders from the day before, having not been put away. Kaz hums, before beginning to sort the stacks.

She sat with Melanie during her lunch.

The room was dark and damp, heavy with moisture. Kaz didn’t eat, sitting in silence next to Melanie’s bed, holding her clammy hand. She didn’t notice when she came in, nor did she respond to Kaz’s many calls of her name. Her face was deathly pale, lips a shade of light blue and eyes glassy, but still, Kaz sat with her. Somewhere, Melanie was still in there, fighting for her life. Kaz owed it to her not to give up on her.

She sat in silence until the Doctor returned. The ship doctor, Harvey, was the most tolerable of Wainwright’s crew, but still regarded Kaz with unease, keeping her at a distance always. It was as though he was almost afraid of her, but she was never arrogant enough to believe such a thing. When he entered the room, he immediately retreated to the farthest wall, his eyes skimming over Melanie, concern etched clearly on his face even through the dim light.

“She won’t last much longer,” he murmurs.

Again, the thought of Melanie dying hits her in the gut, and it takes all Kaz’s strength to hold back the whimper that threatens to spill from her cracked lips. Harvey spares a glance at her then, his eyes ghosting over her clenched fists, her tensed shoulders. She can feel his unease now, the way he longs to escape her company so blatantly. He’s uncomfortable by the prospect of death, even when it’s someone he doesn’t know.

“Isn’t there anything we can do,” Kaz asks softly, her voice taking an almost childish whine.

Harvey looks surprised for a moment, before his face clears, and he shakes his head slowly.

“If I was able to determine what it is, she might have a fighting chance. But all the test’s I’ve run so far have given me inconclusive results. I’ve never seen this mix of symptoms before, never heard of anything like this.”

He gestures to Melanie’s body then, and Kaz moves to look at her again. It strikes a chord within her to see her like this, so lifeless and on the brink of death. It made her feel helpless, even more than she did on the first day. It unnerved her that a woman as strong as Melanie could be struck down by an illness. It felt like a cruel joke of the universe, and at any second, Harvey would laugh and tell her he was joking, that she was going to live after all.

But the relief never comes, and the room remains cast in a heavy silence, with Kaz remaining at Melanie’s side and Harvey awkwardly clinging to the wall, desperate to be as far away as possible from her. Melanie’s eyes roll over to look at her, but she doesn’t see Kaz - not truly. Her eyes are milky, and she struggles to keep them open, but her feeble, bony hand reaches out, touches the top of Kaz’s hand, before tightening and squeezing.

Melanie’s eyes are wide with urgency, her eyebrows pulled together and lips tilted downward in a frown.

“I don’t want to die here, Kaz.”

She breathes it out all at once, before taking another large intake of breath. For a moment, she remains sitting up, looking at her, but after a moment, Melanie’s eyes roll back into her and she’s falls against the mattress. Kaz can’t stop herself, her immediate reaction was to stand up, jerking her hand away from her as Harvey released a startled gasp, leaning over the girl.

“You need to leave,” Harvey says lowly, “you’re causing her more stress.” “Did you hear what she said,” Kaz says, ignoring his demand, “did you hear what she said?”

Harvey looks at her over his shoulders, and his eyes no longer show even a hint of kindness. Instead they are cold, like two pieces of blue-gray ice that threaten to freeze her. His face is a mixture of anger and grief, and Kaz realizes why Harvey is the only one she tolerates. Despite his affiliation to Wainwright, there was something good still inside him, though deeply buried and suppressed. He had it in him too. He grieved when people died, he treated the slaves and patched up any injuries. Still, Kaz remains scornful, steadying her gaze back at him.

The two stare for a moment, both daring the other to look away first, determined to achieve their own victory. In the end, it’s Harvey that looks away first. Kaz smiles to herself, satisfied, but the moment is short lived when her eyes return to Melanie.

“There’s nothing that I can do,” Harvey says. “Then release her to us,” Kaz says, “let her spend her final days with her friends.”

Harvey looks at her as though she’s grown a second, before he releases a large belly laugh that echoes in the small doctor’s office. Kaz winces, huffing slightly as she clenches her fists. Harvey was just the ship doctor, and to her knowledge, he wasn’t one of Wainwright’s fighters. Really, Kaz wondered sometimes why she didn’t just throw a punch. But then reality comes back to her, and she realizes why.

“It’s not about me.”

Kaz’s own words ring in her ears, and she forces herself to unclench her fists. She doesn’t look at Melanie, or Harvey, but keeps her eyes trained on the floor, trying to breathe, to force the promise of tears away before he has a chance to make fun of her.

“You think I have that kind of authority? Ask a favor of the captain, I’m sure he’d do it for a fair price.”

Then Harvey grins, big and wide, and Kaz knows immediately what he’s insinuating, what a ‘fair price’ to Wainwright would be. A shiver runs down her spine, and she can’t stop the sick feeling that hits her at the thought of what it might entail. But Melanie had done so much for her, had done so much for the rest of the girls. If they couldn’t give her one last dying wish, could they even call themselves friends?

Kaz stood to her feet, parting with Melanie with a soft goodbye. She stepped into the brightness of the open hallway, sucking air into her lungs before sighing. She had no choices here, and the thought left her sick to her stomach. Kaz turned reluctantly toward’s Wainwright’s office, bracing herself to return to his side.

So far, the day had been tolerable, and Wainwright seemed only moderately interested in her. It seemed he was genuinely busy, however, meaning his attention on them had weaned, and offered them a bit more freedom, offered Kaz more freedom.

She knocked on the door, the sound soft against the strong oak doors. She heard Wainwright’s muffled voice telling her to come in. Kaz’s hand hovered on the handle, resting just barely on the cold gold, unable to force herself to open the door. It’d been getting harder, forcing herself to do this every day, even if it meant the safety of others. She was growing restless.

Kaz pushed open the door, stepping inside the bright room. She’d taken a late lunch, and so when she returned, she was able to watch the sunset over the town from her own small desk in his office. She worked quietly, filling away various business papers, letters, and other personal documents. Wainwright couldn’t be bothered to organize this, and without her, often lost them and blamed them on the maids. He accused them of throwing them away, which eventually led to him banning any of them from cleaning his office.

Now, it fell on Kaz. It would be another late night, she felt. She looked up at Wainwright for a moment, spying on him through her lashes. He was a man in his mid forties of a medium build, his skin icy white, face splotchy with patches of warm red. For some reason, he had chosen her, above the other girls, to act as his personal assistant, despite her showing no previous loyalty to him. He gave her a powerful devil fruit, because he trusted his hold on her was firm.

And much as Kaz did not want to admit, it was.

“Sir,” Kaz’s voice comes out much softer than she intended, but he looks up still, waiting for her to go on.

She opens her mouth to ask - to ask the cost of freeing Melanie, but she can’t get the word’s out. Instead she stutters, staring at him with her mouth agape.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Wainwright muses, voice heavy and deep, “Or waste my time.” “I’m sorry, sir,” Kaz quickly says, ducking her head.

She feels his eyes on her a moment longer, before they eventually return to his work. Kaz lets out a breath, staring at her own box of paperwork to sort. She lingers only a moment longer, before throwing herself back into the organization.

A serious tone captures the bunk room that night. Kaz sits on the edge of her bed, staring at Sorscha whose face is a combination of upset and fierce determination. Even Saori, who is normally almost always neutral, is filled with determination that surprises Kaz. A look passes between the six, and a silent pact is formed before her eyes.

“You’re a pirate, Kaz,” Faye says, stressing the word pirate, “don’t you wanna do it the pirate way?”

The thought makes Kaz shuffle. Of course, she doesn’t want to do anything for Wainwright, because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve an award for letting them take her, for letting her die in peace after he uprooted her entire life to serve him. But then, they were no match for Wainwright, or any of his guard’s for that matter. The majority of them were not trained fighters, and even those with combat abilities still didn’t stand a chance against the seasoned crew of the Sea Serpents.

“Of course,” Kaz says, “but if we get caught, something bad could happen to us. You know that more than anyone, Faye.”

Kaz knows she’s crossed a boundary when the room goes quiet and Sorscha shoots her a look of disappointment, but she doesn’t regret what she’s said. Even Faye is quiet, staring at her with an unreadable expression before a small frown comes to her face. It’s an unspoken rule between them, not mentioning the past, or the abuse. Whatever Wainwright did to them when they were alone, it became a secret they carried with them.

“I’m just so tired of sitting here and doing nothing,” Faye says, her voice desperate, “Everyday we come back here, exhausted, defeated, and we do nothing. I can’t keep living like this. I’d rather him kill me.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Sorscha shouts.

Kaz jumps, staring at her friend. Sorscha’s face, illuminated by the light of the fire, is furious.

“Shut up, you don’t want to die. Don’t ever say you’d rather die.”

Faye realizes then, and her face goes warm and her cheeks are red. She drops her head in shame, mumbling a low apology, and even Kaz’s shoulders remain tense when the realization washes over her. To even wish to be dead felt like a smack in the face to Melanie, who was fighting so hard to stay alive. Still, Kaz thought of Melanie all alone in the Doctor’s office in the manor, and a sick feeling surfaced in her stomach.

“I have no doubt that Wainwright will ask something perverted, but if it means getting Melanie out of there, I think the cost is worth it,” Kaz says. “No,” Saori argues, shaking her head, “you don’t have to do anything with that pervert, we can find another way.”

“Kaz,” Sorscha says, her voice low, “you know the manor better than anyone. Is there anyone on the inside you’ve made friends with?”

Kaz scowls, feeling like a failure. Of course she hadn’t bothered to make friends while at the manor, and now the thought leaves her bruised. If she had, they could get Melanie out, but what was Sorscha implying? Kaz looks up, studying Sorscha’s face, trying to get a read on her.

“What are you asking me to do, Sorscha?” “I’m asking you to sneak in and get her out of there during the night when all the heaviest security is on the opposite side of the building guarding Wainwright.”

“The pirate way,” Faye says, grinning.

“If we get caught-” “Don’t get caught,” Sorscha says, “simple.”

chapter two ♡ [ tba ]

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flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

Text

Sing Me to Sleep

Haha I’m legit crying good luck with this one if you cry easily like me. So basically this is me evacuating stress by writing a god damn tragedy once again. Don’t worry tho I gave you a little break at the end so you don’t think I’m cruel. Anyway Siri play Quit Playing Games with my Heart by the Backstreet Boys.

Masterlist in bio // pinned post

Pairing: siblings Jason x reader

Word count: 2547

Warnings: dealing with death/grief, language

Summary: You’ve taken so much with you // but left the worst with me (insp.)

You knew something was wrong when Bruce came back from patrol without Jason. His head was low, and he refused to meet your eyes. In fact, he had avoided you altogether. You were kindly but firmly escorted out of the cave by Alfred as the Bat came back, and that confirmed that the night had definitely gone awry. You waited, waited and waited, biting your nails, pulling your hair, until the sun came up and took its place well up in the sky. You were tired and sleepless, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You were nervous, not knowing what was going on. A thousand scenarios ran into your mind, yet none of them prepared you for the solemn expression that was painted over Bruce’s face when he finally came up the batcave later in the morning. He had dark circles under his eyes, contrasting over the red around his iris. You stopped breathing.

Bruce wasn’t the one to express emotion, so it was bad. Even without words, especially without words, it told you everything you needed to know. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, and your heart sank.

“No” You muttered, trying to catch his glance. He wouldn’t let you in. “That’s impossible”

“I’m sorry kid” His voice cracked, but was quickly covered with a clearing of his throat.

“That can’t be…”

He walked away. Your legs shaked, and you had to hold on the wall not to fall. You couldn’t let yourself believe anything bad happened to Jason. He was your big brother, the one person you looked up the most to. Your vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t be gone, no, he always came through. He was strong and resilient, and you still believed it was just a terrible, terrible nightmare. But unfortunately, you were still aware and no amount of pinching your skin and biting your cheek to draw blood could change that.

You let yourself fall on the ground, right beside the piano. Your chest heaved, the tightness restricting your lungs from expanding enough to give you air. You recognized the symptoms of a panic attack, but you couldn’t stop it. Usually, Jason would be there to help you calm down. He would always be there to do breathing exercises with you, or distract you from your spiralling down. He was good at that, he understood you better than anyone here in the manor.

You had a similar story, so there was no surprise at all you bonded so quickly. Dick was almost jealous of the relationship you had with Jason. Bruce adopted you after your trip to juvie for shoplifting instant noodles and gatorade for the third time. You were only fourteen back then, and Bruce bailing you out saved your life. There were a lot of things you didn’t expect from this life, but what you truly didn’t see coming was to have someone who related to you in this new life. From day one, you got along with Jason. You were angsty and brooding and confrontational, and instead of frowning at you, he gave you tips on how to make it all even more effective. In a matter of weeks, he became your best friend. He taught you everything he knew about the Manor, about how to navigate the life of a Wayne. You used to sneak outside during galas and functions to smoke cigarettes he never told you where he got, bitching on the guests and on how ridiculous it all was. You would be miserable together at some points, but it was better than being miserable alone.

At least he understood.

You thought about the last words you exchanged before he went on patrol last night. Could you even remember what you said? It was something banal, you knew it. Probably a dumb joke, or words that didn’t matter at all. What if it was the last thing you said to him? Ever? It couldn’t be it.

“Miss (Y/N)?”

You looked up to Alfred, who was standing in front of you with a concerned frown. His eyes held an infinite amount of sadness, but he was doing his best to stay strong.

“He’ll come back, won’t he?” You asked, still hopeful. You had to be.

“Master Todd--” For a second there he threatened to come undone, but he composed himself, for your sake probably. “The Joker was involved. He… There was an explosion”

You felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. Alfred looked away.

“There was nothing Master Wayne could do” He shook his head, his voice slightly higher than usual. “I am so sorry, Miss (Y/N)”

You tried, god knows you tried to stay strong. That’s what he would have told you, to hold your head up and battle through it all. But you weren’t him and now he was gone for real. The dam made of denial you had put up to hold the emotions at bay broke in a thousand pieces, suddenly flooding you with the sharpest pain you ever felt.

Bruce would never tell you, but the cry of agony you let out at that moment made his own tears fall off in cascades again.

---

The funeral had been kept small and away from prying eyes.

The last thing Bruce wanted was for the paparazzi to show up and turn it into a tabloid. He had been very pragmatic in the last days, almost like nothing had happened. But you knew. He was just better at hiding his grief. You hadn’t talked to anybody ever since that night, not even Alfred despite knowing he didn’t deserve your silence. He was hurting too, but your pain was crippling. The only reason you even got out of bed and showered was to pay your last respects to Jason. Not even to him, to a closed casket and a headstone. Was there even enough left of him to bury a body? You had no idea. Bruce didn’t speak about it. You didn’t want to know either.

The sky had opened minutes after the burial ceremony. You stood at the back of the small crowd composed of Bruce, Alfred and Dick, far enough so they couldn’t be tempted to look at you with pity, or worse, ask you to say some words. The black headstone in the manor’s backyard was taunting you, reminding you you were once again all alone.

Here rests Jason Todd

Loving son and brother

It wasn’t fair. You wanted to scream and the sky, so loud you would make the thunder seem like a whisper. It wasn’t fair. You had never felt such pain before, not when your mother bailed, not when you learned your father was found dead in his car. Your adopted brother was the closest family you had, you loved him so much and now he was gone, just like that.

You tore your eyes from the gravestone when you heard your name being spoken close to you. You hadn’t even noticed Dick approaching, let alone him stopping that close you, his black umbrella overlapping yours. His eyes were red and puffy, and he didn’t even try to hide it. You had forgotten Jason was his brother too.

“You should come back inside” His voice was wavering, hiccuping here and there. Only then you noticed everybody else was gone. “You’ll catch a cold”

You shook your head.

“I need time alone with…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. But he understood. He simply walked away, leaving you under the rain to give one last formal goodbye.

You walked to the foot of the still open hole in the ground, staring at the dark wooden coffin laying at the bottom that remained undisturbed by the cold of the morning. For a while you didn’t talk, because you didn’t want to but also because you couldn’t. There was this lump in your throat that stole from you your restrain on your emotion. You couldn’t even start to describe what you were feeling, as everything was spinning so fast in your head. You were dizzy and wanted off, but unfortunately, you had no control on anything. You had little else choice than to be a victim of your own inability to process the death of a loved one. So when you could finally speak, you were surprised, but not really, that what came out was anger.

“Fuck you Jason” It came off weaker out loud than how you felt it inside, like a tidal wave crashing on a rock before it could reach the shore. “Why did you leave me alone?”

Your tears joined the pouring rain in their symphony.

“You knew how much you meant to me, you knew!” You flexed your frozen fingers on the handle of the umbrella. “And you still left me. I hate you!”

Your words fueled your sobbing. Your hand flew to your mouth, regretting instantly what you said. Jason didn’t deserve those harsh words you didn’t mean, but your chest was heavy and it was the only thing that would come out. You felt restricted even in the large field, like you were in the coffin instead of him. Maybe you should have been. Maybe if you had accepted Bruce’s offer to join the vigilante life, maybe you would have been with him, maybe you could have even saved him. He didn’t leave you, you left him. It was your fault, not his. Why did you say you hated him? Now you hated yourself.

“I’m so sorry Jason” You couldn’t even hear the words you were saying, but you felt the urge to speak them anyway. “I’m so sorry. I don’t, I don’t hate you. I just miss you so fucking much. I don’t know what I’ll do without you around. You’ve taken everything good in this world with you, and left the worst out here with me. You’re gone, and I’m still here. You always told me to be strong, but I can’t, not without you. I’m not sure I can do this, Jason. I could have learned so much more from you, but what’s left now? I just wished I could talk to you one more time, tell you how much you changed my life for the better. Just give you one more hug, even though you pretended you hated it because that's how a brother acts. Learn one more dumb self defense move. Steal your snacks one more time, so you can be mad at me but still make sure you buy extra for me. You thought I didn’t know you were never really mad. How can I steal your snacks now, if you’re not there to catch me in the act?”

You paused to breathe, the action now a little easier. Your tears had stopped and so did the rain, leaving a thick, cold mist hanging above the dewy grass. His absence was a permanent ache on your side, his soul felt so far away even though his body was right in front of you. The lid of the coffin acted as the veil in between the living and the dead, a veil you couldn’t see through. You wondered if he was on the other side, and if he was, whether or not he was as lost and scared as you, searching for a familiar face in all this fog. The best you could hope now was for him to be at peace.

“I know you had a hard time believing anybody could love you” You sighed, calmer now. “But I did. I’ve looked up to you from the moment I met you. You were my hero. I guess… I guess I just wanted you to know that. I’m sorry I never told you out loud, I should have but now it’s too late. I just hope you knew that you were the most important person to me, and that I will miss you every remaining day of my life. Thank you Jason, for everything you gave me. I wish I had the time to repay the favour while I still had the time. I’m so sorry”

You stayed there until sundown.

---

Every morning for five years you visited Jason’s grave, every morning but this one. You woke up late for a final, barely having the time to dress up and steal a bagel from the kitchen. You told yourself you would visit it tonight, that it was no big deal. Dick barely went anymore, and Bruce liked to ignore it was even there. Still, you knew he thought about it from time to time, by how he looked through the windows on rainy days. But still, it felt wrong not to go talk to him even just a little bit. I stayed at the back of your mind for the entire duration of the final.

The smog provided a thick blanket over gotham, but the sun, ever so resilient, managed to peek through the yellow-ish cover to warm the concrete jungle that was Gotham. Your exam was your only appointment of the day, so you allowed yourself to read a book in the metro that brought you back to the outskirts of the city. Coincidently, it was one of Jason’s favourites. You had already gotten through his entire collection, but this was the one that stuck out the most to you. The wagon was only half full, so you sat next to the window to take advantage of the rare golden light that seemed to only increase the farther you got from the inner city.

Without tearing your eyes from the words in front of you, you got off at the last stop and jogged down the platform’s stairs until you reached your car. Only then you put the book aside and drove back the short way to the manor. You picked the book again when you got off, slowly walking around the house, drinking the words like water in the desert. Your feet walked on their own the way to the small Wayne graveyard, a way they already knew without needing your guidance. However, they stopped when you noticed a tall figure standing exactly where you usually would. Your eyes left the page, squinting at the stranger. It wasn’t Bruce, and it wasn’t Dick, despite the similar black hair. He had heard you coming, you recognized the subtle shift in the posture you observed your vigilante family do countless times.

“Hello?” You decided to call. “Can I help you?”

He froze. You didn’t understand why, until he turned his shoulder and stared at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You held your breath as you searched his familiar features. It wasn’t the face you remembered, and his eyes didn’t hold the same wonder they did before, but you could still recognize the character in them anytime. At first you didn’t believe it, you pinched yourself a hundred times over in a minute, bit the inside of your cheek until it bled, but he was still standing there, baffled as you were, searching your face for familiarity just as you did him.

“Jason?”

He gave you a half smile, but it was all you needed. Your eyes teared up as you chuckled in disbelief, pushing aside the questions you had for him and running into his arms.

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spencervoid · 5 years ago

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Undercover | Spencer Reid

*I do not own this GIF nor do I take credit for it!*

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: This idea was inspired by the song “Us” by James Bay and Alicia Keys which is an INCREDIBLE song by the way! [Edited] Okay, writing this I didn’t expect to be this long but I kept adding as I went along aha so bear with it!

Warnings: angst, tension, death, blood, a lot of sadness, fluff, kissing, happy ending :)

NO SMUT! I’m not comfortable with writing that sort of stuff so I won’t go further than a very intense kiss, thank you.

Word Count: 2.6k words (reading time; 20 mins average)

[If your name is Anna then change the undercover name to whatever you like]

“I hate dresses.” You mumbled underneath your breath, stepping out of the SUV with Reid by your side. This mission was definitely out of your comfort zone but Emily claimed that there was no one better for the job. All you both had to do was profile the room after an anonymous tip came in that the unsub was going to be attending the party.

A couple of days ago, you and Reid had gotten into quite an argument and it had been awfully tense between you two since then, despite the tries from the rest of the team to get you two to at least acknowledge each other’s existence. Your heels clicked against the pavement as the warm air hugged your body closely, Reid looking around the area like the maniac he was. Defeats the purpose of being discreet.

You walked confidently, your hair was brushed back behind your shoulders, various rings slid onto your fingers with a very shiny diamond one on your ring finger of your left hand. Shoot, you almost forgot you were ‘married’ to Reid. Seriously, why couldn’t JJ go?

You approached the front door, the bodyguard stood with a clipboard in his hand. “Names?” You looked to Reid as he studied the man’s face, a light smile built up on his face. “James Meulbrook.” You planted a fake smile on your lips, as the bodyguard flicked through the pages, chewing his gum obnoxiously. “Ah, Mr Meulbrook, yes.”

The bodyguard spoke, ticking off the name with his black fountain pen. He looked to you, eyeing you up and down and you resisted every urge to gauge out his eyes with a fork but just tilted your chin up, a sudden hand on your waist, pulling you in. “And who’s the lovely lady?”

“Anna. Anna Meulbrook.” The bodyguard looked up at Reid, who had his jaw clenched and his other hand balled into a fist behind his back. The man looked visibly intimidated as he cleared his throat and stood to the side, motioning for the pair of you to walk in.

You both took his invitation in and walked side by side, but before you could go downstairs to where the hall was, you were stopped. You felt a soft grasp on your hand, turning to face Spencer, he was looking down at your face with a worrisome look. “Careful alright? We know what this unsub’s capable of.”

You nodded firmly and pulled your hand out of his, walking down the steps to where the huge hall was located. There were a couple of tables gathered on both sides of the hall, with an extravagant and expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Woah.” You whispered, picking up your dress so you wouldn’t trip over it as you strolled down the stairs. You met the eyes of other people who had came tonight, a gleaming smile on their faces.

A waitress even complimented your dress as you made your way across the hall, being offered a drink. Spencer walked with both of his hands in his pockets, looking around the room with a tight lipped smile on his face. You refused the drink and took a seat on the table with ‘The Meulbrooks’ sign on it.

Spencer sighed and sat down besides you, whispering in your ear, “if we’re going to make this whole marriage thing work, you can’t be mad at me.” You scoffed quietly, looking to him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Throughout the night, Spencer stayed on his side as you stayed on yours and followed the instructions Hotch strictly told you to stand by.

‘Be welcoming, act like you fit in, and don’t approach the unsub if you spot him. You’ll be unarmed and be putting everyone else at risk. Call us. We will be watching the entire time just in case something goes wrong.’

You were talking with a couple of women who were sat on the same table as you, so far nothing had come up. Neither you or Reid had found anyone or even suspected anyone, despite how close you were looking at all the people here tonight.

In the middle of saying something, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Excuse me.” You looked up and saw Reid smiling at the ladies before looking down at you, motioning to walk with him. Silently obeying, you stood up and picked your dress up off the ground, following Spencer elsewhere.

He turned around to face you, looking around to make sure no one else was in conversation distance. “I think I’ve identified the unsub.” You furrowed your eyebrows, shifting uncomfortably where you stood. “Who?”

“On your 6, navy blue blazer.” You looked down to the floor, whispering, “Talk to me. Pretend we’re in a conversation.” As Spencer rambled on about something to do with the laws of physics, you smiled at him and calmly looked to your left. You observed the man Reid was suspecting and looked back up at him.

“We agreed on a young male, not a 40 year old.” He rolled his eyes, pulling his hair back behind his ears. You both quietened down as a couple walked past, resuming to your conversation moments after. “He’s been staring at you for the last hour.”

You tilted your head at him, “Can’t handle the fact men are attracted to me?”

“He’s been staring a little too intensely to be attracted.”

“I think I would know if he was staring a little too intensely, I am a profiler after all.” You turned to walk away but Spencer grabbed your hand, pulling you back to face him. You hastily whispered in a hushed tone, trying not to grab the attention of the people around you. “Let go of me, I have a job to do.”

“You’re getting a bit too comfortable to be doing just a job if these men are staring at you.” Your mouth hung open as you scoffed, your voice getting louder. “What??”

You knew better than to blow your cover and put everyone at risk so you took a deep breath and yanked your hand out of his grip. “At least I’m trying to do my job right, James.” You emphasised on his fake name, a man and a woman approaching the two of you as you both simultaneously turned to them, fake smiles plastered on your lips.

“Mr Meulbrook, we just came over to say how much we admire your charity work.” You looked down to your feet for a brief moment, rolling your eyes before looking back up to face the couple and your ‘husband’. “I’m going to get a drink.” You excused yourself and gave a curt nod towards the two guests opposite you.

You spun on your heel and walked away, heading back to your table. Spencer watched you walk away, remorse filling his chest. He wanted to apologise, not just as James but as Spencer too.

“In trouble with the Mrs?” Spencer was shook out of his trance, looking back at the man. “Don’t we all?” He threw a light-hearted comment in an attempt to make him feel distracted but it didn’t work nonetheless. You were the only thing he could think about.

As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, you desperately tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall out, Spencer’s comment earlier running through your mind. Did he actually mean that? Did he think you were purposely trying to get men to stare at you? As if it was your fault that men couldn’t keep their thing in their pants when seeing an attractive woman, that was their problem. Not yours.

You heard heels click against the floor as you took a deep breath and pretended to fix your hair as the woman gave you a small smile in the mirror before walking into a stall. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a piercing sound run through the building.

Fire alarm.

You briskly walked back to the hall’s entrance when you got pushed back by a swamp of people who were running out, some screaming and some in complete terror. You were entirely confused, holding a lady back and trying to get her to calm down. “Hey, hey, hey, what happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” She was about to explain but ran away when she heard her husband calling her name out, ushering her into their car. You looked around frantically, searching for...

A sudden gunshot echoed through the hall as you ran in, seeing a young lady lying on the floor, blood flowing from the centre of her head as she laid lifeless on the ground. “Oh my god.” You whispered, tears escaping your eyes as you brought your hand to your mouth.

You noticed the bullet holes decorated across the ceiling, a silencer on the floor only a couple of feet away from where the body was.

Running to the girl, you saw the exit door wide open assuming it’s where the unsub must’ve escaped from. You couldn’t help the tears uncontrollably run down your cheeks, bringing your fingers to your head, running them through your hair in frustration.

Two FBI agents, one unsub, one victim and he still got away. God you felt so stupid.

Great, now your phone was still in the bathroom and you knew if you left, the press would be right outside so now you had no way to contact any of your team. Not to mention that you had a body laying in front of you, an escaped unsub and your own personal audience waiting for an answer outside.

You walked out of the hall, turning back every five seconds to see the girl, your chest filling up with guilt that you didn’t see to her in time. You couldn’t help but put the blame on yourself, thinking about the what-ifs.

Walking out into the outside, an army of guests and paparazzi gathered around you within seconds, knowing you had to answer for what had just happened inside but you couldn’t even bring yourself to figure it out. Being the liaison of the team really came with it’s disadvantages.

Questions, comments, blames were getting thrown at you in every direction as you agitatedly looked around, trying to calm down the situation. You were still crying, your body still pumping adrenaline, your mind still in shock and utter denial.

Thankfully, you heard a loud and deep voice take control of the situation and push the people away from you. Sighing, your body limped from the overwhelming pain you were feeling in your chest when you looked up and saw him.

But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was looking at Emily and JJ, talking to them in a frustrated manner.

He was shaking his head, his eyes were red and his fingers were crossed. Something he did when he was nervous. Almost instantly, he caught your eyes looking at him as he took a sigh of... relief? Suddenly, any defences you had built up against him were just paper. Before you even knew it, you were engulfed in his arms and his blazer was wrapped around you. You could feel his torso and the heart that beat from within. His hands were folded around your back, drawing you in closer. You could practically feel your body shake, crying as you nuzzled into him further.

Spencer pulled his head back and softly wiped your tears with his thumb, even his gentle touch brought more relief than your heart could hold. He pulled your hair back behind your ear, almost assessing your face for any sort of pain or damage. “I-I let him get away, she’s gone. She-She’s gone.” You cried out in whispers as he tried to calm you down, resting both of his hands on either side of your face.

“This isn’t your fault angel. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.” Spencer repeated to you, kissing your forehead gently. “They’ve secured each exit, every unit is out on the road. We’ll find the son of a bitch.”

Your cries went to silent sobs as you rested your head on Spencer’s firm chest, his hand on the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He continued to whisper, everyone else around you keeping a safe distance, they were sure Spencer was doing a good job and he was. There was no one you trusted more to take care of you.

After a couple of hours, the unsub was captured somewhere in the woods when a person called in, reporting someone of the exact same description. He was disarmed at the scene and was already on his way to the police station where Hotch, Rossi and Emily followed.

You were leaned up against the side of an ambulance, still wearing Spencer’s blazer, you gazed out into the distance, hearing all the chatter and noise behind you.

You felt a vibration come from the blazer’s pocket, pulling out Spencer’s mobile, you read the new message sent. “Got your phone :)” You smiled to yourself, scanning over the message a couple of times before locking the phone and putting it away.

Hearing footsteps slowly become louder, you turned your head to see a familiar brown haired boy walk over. A soft smile on his face.

He stood in front of you, hands dug into his pockets as he pulled out your phone and handed it to you. “Thank you.” You mumbled quietly, earning a hum in response.

You had every urge to ask him what was on your mind, what you were thinking since you’d shared that hug, every moment didn’t seem right until this one. When it was just the two of you. When you were both enjoying each other’s company silently, you knew it was the right moment.

“Why were you crying?” You looked up to meet his eyes who were already fixed on you, his lips twitching as he thought of what to say. Taking a step forward, he spoke confidently, “because I thought I’d lost you.”

You nodded gently, picking at the rings on your fingers as you decided on whether or not you should ask the next question. But you did anyway. “What you said in there, about me wanting men’s attention, did you m-”

“No. No I didn’t mean that Y/N. What I said in there were lies. All of it. You’re beautiful okay? You can wear anything you want and men are always going to look at you because every ounce of you is perfect. Every ounce.” You opened your mouth to reply but he beat you to it, “look, I was just jealous. I was jealous because I mean Y/N, look at you. You’re so damn beautiful.”

There was a brief pause between you both when he spoke back up again. “Just say the word and I can show you Y/N. I can show you just how much you mean to me.”

You stopped for a moment, placing a hand on Spencer’s chest as he looked down at you, waiting patiently. There were a million thoughts running through your head but you knew deep down you wanted him. Despite how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

“Okay.” As soon as the word left your mouth, Spencer lifted your head with his thumb, his forefinger resting underneath your chin. You closed your eyes as he leaned in to your face, feeling a pair of lips brush yours instantly afterwards. It was soft and delicate, as if he was asking for permission to go further.

You brought your hand slowly up to his face as the kiss continued, the touch of his lips against yours getting more and more intimate. He could feel the warmth of your skin, smiling against your lips at how you were probably turning pink.

And yes, you were turning pink. You could practically feel your limbs inside shaking, your heart beat quickening and your body melting under Spencer’s gentle touch.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fluff #imagine #doctor reid #spencer

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witchiswriting · 4 years ago

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A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 5

Summary: Negan and Lilith meet with an unexpected face from the past.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of panic attack.

Characters: Negan x Lilith (OC)

Author’s Note: Wow! We’re so close to the end. I feel bittersweet since it’s my Negan fic ever, saying goodbye to those characters are harder than I thought. Don’t worry though. There’s going to be a sequel, I just don’t know when it’s gonna be ready to posted.

It’s been a month and a half since Negan had started to live in this hell called The Sanctuary. He’d accepted the fact that he’s never going back to the life he once had. The only person he knew from his life before, his best friend or more like ex best friend was now his enemy. Rick Grimes, he was one of the residents of Sanctuary; he didn’t have a room like ordinary workers or saviours. No, he was staying in a cell and lost his hands in a brutal way. He had watched all his family getting slaughtered by Negan.

When Simon led Negan to the cells that day, he found out about the murders he’s caused, and they were a lot. When they came across Rick’s group Negan ordered them to give their half of shit to him. Threatened that otherwise he’d kill them. After particular events, a war took place between the groups Negan terrorised. They came together against Negan, but they still hadn’t the enough numbers to defeat Negan’s kingdom. So, Negan beat them down in a very brutal way.

Rick Grimes was the person who killed Lilith. In a crossfire he shot her in the chest. Although, Negan was the one to blame since he was the reason that Lilith had been here that day.

If he wouldn’t had been this stupid. Cheating on her in another world too.

In that very morning, Lilith walked in on him fucking Amber, at least that’s what Negan thinks her name is. He doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t know anything. He even made Simon tell him how Lilith died. So, that was it. Shocked and very much hurt Lilith left The Sanctuary, and she was too lost in her own mind to notice the trap the Alexandrians had set up.

First, she was captured by Rick. He had no intention to hurt her. She was just another victim to Negan after all but when the saviours came guns blazing Lilith got scared and tried to find a way to escape. She found it but when she threw herself, she felt the heavy bullet ripping through her chest. That’s how she died in arms of Negan.

When Negan stood in front of his ex-friend now enemy’s cell, he felt completely numb. Nothing came out of his mouth. The only voice echoing through the cold walls were Rick’s hatred, accusations, and threats. Negan waited with a stone-cold face. He was too busy to comprehend the situation. After 10 minutes he walked back to his room and refused to come out since then.

Negan sighed, taking a sip from his whiskey. He let a tear fall on his cheek. It’s been too long, and he was now sure that there’s no going back and there’s no Lilith. He’s the man with everything yet nothing.

For the first couple of weeks Negan always slept, thinking that might be the only way to go back to his old life but, of course, it didn’t work. Instead, he woke up to a bloody Lilith standing in front of him and accusing him of letting her die. His nightmares were another thing. There were too real that Negan couldn’t bear to live this agony repeatedly. So, he drowned himself and his sorrows in alcohol. Hoping to numb himself and he almost made it.

Until one night.

He was laying on his stomach in his bed and crying silently. Wishing he had at least one photograph of Lilith though he didn’t know if he could take looking at her beautiful face again. Trying to get some sleep, he closed his already tired eyes. He heard some noise in his bathroom but didn’t care. Probably he was too drunk, and his mind was making up things to torture him more.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes tightly. Wishing dive into deep slumbers of sleep in a few minutes however, the faith had other plans.

A light breeze brushed his beautiful face, slightly waking him up from his semi sleeping state.

There she was, standing in the same sun dress, watching him with an angry expression. Her dark curls were moving lightly in the wind.

He jolted up from the bed. He must have been dreaming or was too drunk again and seeing a hallucination.

Lucille, she was standing all in her glory.

‘’ You really don’t get the concept of second chances, do you Negan?’’ She asked with a sassy tone. It was apparent that she wasn’t pleased with him.

‘’W-what? I’m too drunk and seeing things. Fuck. Lucille.’’ Negan was rubbing his eyes.

‘’Wake up asshole, it’s not a hallucination. I’m here. Again. To fucking help.’’ She gritted her teeth.

‘’ But why?’’ Negan was confused. He knew he had no right to seek for help nor he deserved it.

‘’ I’m not doing this for you.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

‘’ Then for who? ‘’ It was getting more and more complex for Negan to figure out in his drunken state.

‘’ I mean you’ve always had a fucked-up mind, but you were also sharp. So, you tell me Negan.’’ She took a step toward him.

‘’ I’d say Lilith but, well… she’s gone.’’ Negan swallowed hardly. The gulp in his throat was getting bigger.

‘’ So, you say?’’ Lucille smirked knowingly.

‘’ IS SHE ALIVE? PLEASE TELL ME!’’ Negan got up from the bed and kneeled in front of Lucille.

‘’ Isn’t it funny that fears become wishes, Negan?’’ Lucille mocked his ex-husband. She’s not used to see him in such a pathetic state. She mumbled ‘good’ under her breath. ‘’ When you left Lilith, the last thing you wanted was to see her again. What has changed?’ She smirked but the sign of sympathy didn’t appear on her beautiful features, instead her face was full of ferocity.

Negan couldn’t keep his tears at bay anymore, at this point he’s crying like a pathetic dog. Yes, the woman he’d loved once was being extremely hard on him but his pain didn’t matter shit to him. All he wanted was Lilith to be alive, even if it’s without him.’ Please tell me she’s alive. Please, I beg you.’’ He started sobbing violently.

‘’ It depends. You’re probably going to treat her as badly as the last time.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner.

He started to hyperventilate. ‘’ I fucking promise I will never hurt her ever again. If she’s alive and ready to accept me, I’ll do my fucking best to make it up to her. Just please fucking tell me if she’s alive.’’

Lucille took a deep breath. Her eyes were shining mischievously. ‘’ Well then.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘’ Yes, she’s alive Negan but she’s not doing very well as you can guess.’’

‘’I-I-I’d do everything for her to be happy… and if she doesn’t want me then I’ll go my own way. I just want the best for her.’’ Tears were running down on his face violently. His eyes were blood shot and puffy, his nose was running down but he couldn’t care less. This a month and a half has been the worst he’s ever experienced. He thought nothing could beat the day Lucille died but he was wrong.

Negan struggled at controlling his shaking hands. The balloon growing inside him was pressing into his chest. His breath got caught in his throat and he couldn’t mutter a word, just a chocked sob came out. The last time he had a panic attack was when he found out Lucille has cancer.

Watching the miserable man before her, Lucille put her delicate hand on his shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘’ Stand up and go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up to your old life next morning. Who knows?’’ She purred.

He stood up like an obedient child, but he had one question in his mind. ‘’Lucille, why are you being this good to me?’’

Lucille laughed. ‘’Oh dear, I’m not being good to you, now go back to sleep. If you’re lucky maybe you’d see her in your dream tonight.’’ And with that she disappeared.

Lilith was dancing slowly in her room. That was her coping mechanism. Whenever a bad thing happens, she tries to get over it with dancing and most of the time it helps but this time she felt like there’s nothing that could soothe her pain.

It’s been two weeks and the pain had started to annoy her, since childhood she hadn’t been good with dealing her negative emotions and the last one was the biggest blow. Feeling sad and in pain drove her crazy. Now, she’s mad at his asshole ex-fiancé also herself. She didn’t know when she’d fallen that deep for the man who ruined her life in a single night. Before, she didn’t realize how much he meant to her and it hurt more knowing that he was probably the only one for her.

Five days ago, she went back to Negan’s place to gather her things, but nobody was at home and there was no sign of Negan had been there for a long time. His car and motorbike were in the garage, but his clothes were absent in his wardrobe. Who knows, maybe he’d already found a lover. Thinking of that possibility hurt Lilith in the ways she could’ve never guessed before.

Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared herself at mirror. The song was over, and she was a little bit tired. She watched herself for a few minutes. Her bright blue eyes were slightly red and swollen just like her plump lips. Her nose was running down, and the tip was a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, she heard a melody playing. She didn’t recognize it immediately, but she knew she heard it before, just couldn’t quite place when she listened to the song.

She must be forgetting things after all the crying; her head wasn’t in the right place. She unplugged the player and threw herself on bed.

When she felt a soft fingertip on her bare shoulder it’s been almost 10 minutes letting herself into the arms of slumber. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Lilith slightly opened them.

She couldn’t help the gape that formed on her mouth when she saw the woman who she’d only knew from photographs standing before her.

It was an interesting night to begin with.

@buttercandy16 @negans-network

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan angst #negan smut #negan fluff #lucille twd #lucille #negan x lilith #story: a not so merry christmas #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #jdm #negan twd

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tiaragqueen · 5 years ago

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Can I please request a yandere!Sasuke Uchiha x Hyuuga!reader where she's very calm but also powerful and she's the only girl that doesn't try to get his attencion, but he is obsessed with her and wants her to be his wife?

Edict

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Pre-Shippuuden! Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

✂ Word Count: 885

✂ Trigger Warnings: Possessiveness, drugging

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

So, I made it pre-Shippuden because I think Sasuke wouldn't care much about romance if Itachi was still alive. I hope I didn't make the yandereness too subtle, tho.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“You can throw a fit but it’s no use (don’t reject me). Just close your eyes, tune your ears.” - Pied Piper (Bangtan Seonyeondan)

In some aspects, you reminded Sasuke of Hinata. You were polite, hardworking, smart, and quiet, though not necessarily shy like your blue-haired counterpart. When other girls were busy groveling on his feet, you kept your attention on books and training. Certainly, you weren’t the first and only one to not fall victim to his ‘charm’. He’d met Tenten, Hinata, and Temari who treated him like a fellow ninja.

And yet, there was something about you that attracted him.

Was it your intelligence? No, Sakura was smart, too. Was it your beauty? Well, Ino was no less than pretty, either. Or was it your determination? Every girl, if not all, who enrolled in the academy had the same resolution; to be the best ninja they could be.

Really, if he were to look deeper, he’d find that there was no real reason as to why he liked you so much. Thus, it led him to the only possibility; crush.

Yes, Sasuke Uchiha had a crush on you, just like any other boy around his age.

But Sasuke couldn’t accept it. Liking someone meant investing his time and attention to them, and he couldn’t afford that; not when he had a more pressing matter at hand. Itachi was stronger and smarter than him on many levels, so if he wanted to have a chance at defeating him, Sasuke needed to work harder. And infatuation could only hinder him, as far as he was concerned.

Then again, nobody told him that he couldn’t bring you with him. With, or without your consent.

“Come with me.”

You glanced up from the green tea and blinked owlishly. Sasuke stared at you emotionlessly, like he always did, but you could discern something in there. A dogged determination that you’d seen it appeared whenever he talked about his ‘purpose’. A dark sentiment that allowed no rejection from you.

“… To where?” You had a suspicion regarding his abrupt invitation, but you didn’t want to jump into conclusion yet. For all you knew, you could be wrong, and you’d be forever reminded of it. Your brain always picked the wrong time to humiliate you with memories, especially the embarrassing ones.

But when he scoffed, you knew that your suspicion was correct.

“You know where.” He lifted his own glass and sipped the lukewarm tea, still staring at you as though you’d bolt out of the door anytime soon.

Though, if you knew what would happen next, you’d definitely escape sooner.

You shook your head, having already made up your mind long before he asked you. It was no secret that you disagreed with his intention, and frankly, nobody would, either.

“Sorry, Sasuke-kun, but I don’t think I can join you on your… quest.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Sasuke squinted and had you weren’t close to him, you’d certainly be intimidated by the gesture. He had a way of frightening people with a mere look, and sometimes it worked on your favor. Behind his cold demeanor, you found that he was quite caring to his friends. Though, his kindness often lacked the warmth that was necessary for them to feel his sincerity.

“I didn’t ask, you know.” His tone became flatter than you thought was possible as he slowly leaned forward, crossing the table that acted as a boundary between you two. If he wasn’t trying to intimidate you earlier, then now, he surely was. “I want you to come with me. You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Still,” You withdrew slightly while keeping the gaze that grew heated in each second. “you want me to come with you. Therefore, I have the right to refuse.” Once the situation had truly dawned on you, you frowned and dropped all courtesy. “Honestly, Sasuke. Just because I’m your friend, doesn’t mean you can order me around like that.”

Frigid eyes widened slightly as he inclined his head, black hair concealing his visage. Why did he look shocked? Should he already know that you considered him as one of your closest comrades? “Friend, huh?” Sighing, Sasuke finally retreated and picked up the empty glass again. He twirled it for a good moment or two, seemingly lost in his thoughts. As far as you were concerned, you were the only he ever put his guards down.

But this time, you knew better.

“… How unfortunate.”

As if on cue, your sight began to grow blurry until it looked like he had two faces at once. You slowly grabbed your head, feeling the blood rushed and pounded the skull. The glass fell to your lap and dampened your skirt, but you didn’t notice through the abrupt headache. You collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball, wincing to keep the pain at bay. Several tears managed to trickle without your knowledge, creating droplets against the floorboard.

“I see the drug is working,” Sasuke remarked dispassionately, finally putting down the glass that he’d been gazing for a while now. Peering towards the ticking clock, he hummed. “We should have a couple of hours to prepare before we arrive at his base. In the meantime,” he glanced at your weakened figure, discerning the consciousness that slowly slipped from your bloodshot eyes along with the pain. “rest a little, [Name]. You’ll need full stamina for our journey later.”

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exorcisms-and-sigils · 4 years ago

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Chris Halliwell x OC imagine: Ashthorn (part 1/4)

(Set in mid 2025.

trope: the entire family knows about their feelings for each other, but the both of them don’t dare to act on it.

power/s: sass...?)

The demon sorceress Astros targets Melinda in a time of self-doubt, and PJ in a time of self-loathing, in an attempt to cripple the power of the next generation. She did not consider Valerie Ashthorn, The Expert on the Matter and their childhood friend.

Valerie rang the doorbell, and her heart raced even faster. She breathed deeply, and thought about what she was going to say. Melinda's 18th was two weeks ago, so she must have moved out. If she's lucky and the twins are here, they'd be loud when they see her, and save her from introducing (or reintroducing) herself.

The door opened to reveal a pleasant-faced young man. "Hi."

Valerie smiled, resigning herself to social interaction. "Hi... I'm looking for Wyatt Halliwell. Has he visited this house recently?"

He chuckled like she said something funny. "Yes, I have. How can I help you?"

"Wow..." And so, there was no such thing as something she planned to say. There's only this older, good-looking guy in the shoes of one of her greatest friends. "I-I mean, my name is Valerie Ashthorn. We last saw each other—nevermind. I'm moving into my folks' old house across the street. I figured seeing if you still remember me, it won't—"

She had turned her head to face the house, so dull and plain compared to the Halliwell Manor, and couldn't brace herself for the weight that crashed against her body.

Wyatt hugged her and exclaimed, "Ree! Oh my goodness, that's why you looked so familiar!"

He pulled away, grinning. "Wow! You're a sight for sore eyes... Or maybe Chris's eyes."

She smacked his arm, ignoring how built he felt beneath her hand. "Ten seconds! You can't even last ten seconds without being an asshole!"

"You can't even last one without blushing." he smirked. "Please, come in."

It took all of Valerie's willpower to keep from being choked up at how familiar the walls and furniture and windows and floors looked, as if the house itself was alive and welcoming her back home. She put her bag aside, letting Wyatt place an arm around her shoulder as she slung one around his waist. This has always been home, no matter the mind-reading evil beings that tried to destroy her memory of it over the years.

Wyatt led them to the living room with a contented sigh. The memories continue to flood back, and would've barreled into Valerie if she hadn't seen the frowns on Aunt Piper's, Uncle Leo's, and Uncle Coop's faces before they perked up at the sight of her.

She and Wyatt pulled away from each other. "I'm back. Demons?"

Piper rose from the couch and wrapped her arms around her. Please don't cry, Valerie told herself. "Valerie, hi. It's so good to see you... no, not demons. You know we're never that lucky."

Despite how deeply they frowned, they were alright. It was Melinda and PJ who were at risk.

Leo asked her. "What do you know about the empousai?"

"I know enough to vanquish them."

"Nobody's vanquishing anyone." Coop muttered, his ring stark against the dark expression on his face. "That's not an option."

"It is for the one who turned PJ, Coop." Leo stated, before turning back towards Valerie. "And the one who's going to turn Melinda.”

"... Premonition." Valerie guessed. She received nods.

An inhuman growl sounded from the sunroom, low and guttural. One second, Valerie was frozen, surprised.

The next, she was bolting across the room, ignoring Wyatt's warnings, as well as the force field he placed around her.

Not three steps into the sunroom and a jet of white fluid shot across the room. She threw her hands upward with a yelp as the fluid hit the force field, redirecting it upwards into an LED light above her head and cracking it.

Wyatt and the others caught up. His eyes were wide and alert, darting between her and the partly-turned empousai on the floor, inside a ring of crystals and a pink force field.

The disheveled brown hair and tattered clothes screamed that it was PJ, when the three legs — all different from each other — and the wholly red eyes watching her every move said it was an empousa in the middle of transformation.

"Are you okay? That thing she spits didn't get you?"

Valerie pointed to the broken LED light overhead, with bits and pieces that were still falling and bouncing against Wyatt's force field. Her attention remained on PJ; one of her legs was a cat's with its claws out, the other a horse's or goat's hoof that she kept stomping the ground with, and the third a thing of pure copper that was shaped like a human leg. Patches of her skin were different tones, indicating either she tried to shapeshift, or the ability is being opened to her.

PJ snarled, revealing cracked, unused canines, and Valerie cocked an offended black eyebrow. "You got the aesthetic, at least."

Coop gave her a dirty look, even as he stepped up to her side. "We had to use my power to make the force field, hope that through the heritage I passed down, we could reach her. We already tried appealing to her witch side."

"Is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes." Piper answered. "Your Aunt Phoebe is with Peyton and Parker, and Uncle Henry is on leave, so he's with Aunt Paige and the kids."

Wyatt added, crossing his arms over his chest. "Chris went alone to look for Melinda, get her back here before she can fully turn. Ideally."

Valerie made a double take, blinking at him. "Empousai seduce. Why is he alone?"

"... Seduce?" a smirk slowly spread across his face. "I wouldn't be too worried. The only one that can get him to do anything through seduction is you."

Valerie's ears warmed. At the corner of her eye, she noticed the adults, even Uncle Coop, trying to hide their smiles. She massaged her neck, the quickest way to make Wyatt understand how annoying he was being. "I went back in time before and encountered empousai. When I was in Greece, three dozen of them attacked Epirus."

PJ snarled at her when she looked. Valerie was half-inclined to snarl back. "I brought journals and books with me in the car and the house. I'll see if I can find anything."

"I'll help." Wyatt hopped on his feet, following her out the door after Piper nodded in reply.

"Promise not to be a dick."

He put one hand in the air, and the other on his chest, as if he were vowing. Then he made a funny face. "Not entirely, anyway."

Valerie guffawed. "Already more than I expect."

The magma pool burned far, far below Chris, but he could still feel the heat on his face. The empousa he'd been interrogating whimpered at the sight of the stone cuffs around its wrists, its five different legs dangling uselessly in mid-air. Chris clenched his jaw against the knot forming in his temple, and removed another small piece of rock from the cuffs.

"Wait, wait! You won't even ask me what they want with those girls first?"

"Frankly, I don't have time. Now again, what sent the empousai?"

The empousa's lips pulled back in a snarl, just like the one Melinda had given Chris when he last saw her. "The empousai send themselves...!"

"Is that what your pack leader said when he agreed to work with wraiths?"

"We will annihilate their kind after we're done with you!" it yelled, the sound echoing through the few entryways dug throughout Purgatory.

"Scary." Chris drawled. The wraiths were always a sore topic. "Empousai answer to their pack leaders, and those are decided from how quickly they turn victims. What asked for your help?"

The empousa drew its vicious lips into a line, refusing to answer. Chris flicked his wrist, and a larger chunk of the cuffs broke off, falling into the fire below. The empousa's feet writhed and clicked against each other in a panic. Without something to stand on, these beasts would be out of their comfort zone, and suddenly become the most cowardly of the new generation of evil. Only the sight of his theory being proven true kept Chris's headache at bay.

"Astros! Astros! She called herself Astros!"

He blinked, trying to recall where he encountered the name. Then he removed the entire stone from the empousa's right wrist. The headache pounded more with the empousa still trying to get into his head.

"She would have excelled if she were one of us! The wraiths will let her skills go to waste, but she will thrive with us..." it glared at the single piece of rock keeping it from both death and the nearby surface that led to safety. "after she exploits the power of your family."

The simultaneous sound of multiple, different footsteps came from the tunnels on its side. Chris watched the fear sink into its horrible, pale face before he tugged at the stone cuff. "The wraiths say the same thing."

Its eyes were wide with rage and self-absorbed disbelief. Chris shrugged. "Or something close enough anyway. From what I've read about your kind, you're cannibals, if motivated correctly."

He removed the cuffs from its wrist after all its feet hit solid ground, and then orbed home. "Must be painful."

#chris halliwell #charmed #chris perry #chris halliwell imagine #chris halliwell oneshot #charmed imagine #charmed oneshot #charmed wb #empousai #wraith #halliwell cousins #halliwell sisters #charmed chris halliwell #charmed chris

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