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saurexhas · 3 years ago

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Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

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Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

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Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

#mc #x reader #nightmare sans #established relationship #tw blindness #mc doesn't like being treated like they're fragile #mc is honestly just trying to hold themselves together #depression not making an appearance this time but likely soon #is mc gonna get a puppy?#nightmare would totally get them a puppy #you better vote or I'll steal your kneecaps /j #seriously though please vote #you guys need to participate for this idea to work and be fun #it'll be worth it promise #saurex works

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nev3rfound · 4 years ago

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someone i once knew : b.b - p.5

with hydra in the compound and you left to fend for yourself, now would be the worst time to start remembering everything, right? (2.2k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

- i also have an etsy shop, i just released wandavision themed tshirts if you’d like to check those out! -

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

(also thank you again and again for the love and excitement for this series - crazy that there’s only one part left now ah!)

“Come on! You must know something!” The leader of the trio yells as he punches you in the stomach, watching you curl into yourself, falling into the broken glass as you suppress a cry.

With a shaky breath, you force your eyes up to meet the three men. “I, I don’t know anything!” You state the same thing you’ve been telling them ever since they found you.

“Sure you don’t, Princess.” One of the others huffs before stepping forward, picking you up by your hair causing you yelp, feeling various cuts form across your exposed skin. “Now, shall we try that again?”

Weakly, you look across the room to see one of the monitors starting to power up again; FRIDAY is coming back online. “Like I said,” You force confidence, despite feeling your body giving in. “I don’t know anything.”

“Wrong answer, Princess.” The leader sighs and as soon as he raises his fist, you close your eyes before his impact hits.

“You must have something, right?” Steve leans across the chair as Tony keeps his eyes glued to his phone, watching as FRIDAY powers back up and the security cameras begin to switch on, floor by floor.

Tony hums in response as he moves through the various rooms on each floor. “Come on, come on,” He mutters to himself, feeling Bucky watching him from across the jet.

“She couldn’t have left the lab, Tony, check the second floor.” Bruce calls out, still glued to his chair thinking about your question- “Do you think I’m evil?”

Bucky listens as Tony’s breathing halters upon finding the camera’s now active on the second floor. His eyes scan across the screen, watching as the cameras move across each room until they activate in the lab you’re in- or were in.

“Oh, kid.” Tony sighs, feeling his heart sink as he focuses on the screen seeing shattered glass covering the ground whilst you lie limply on top of it all.

“No,” Bucky speaks up, having stalked over behind Tony. “no.” Bucky repeats himself, shaking his head. “She’ll be fine, she has to be.”

“Anything?” One of the men speaks through their comms, swearing under their breath in Russian whilst you sit upright on the broken glass under close watch by the other two agents. “We have a hostage.” He states, looking over his shoulder to see you bruised and bloodied.

Yet, you spare a glance to one of the hidden cameras Tony warned you about when you first took on the job. One of the reasons why FRIDAY’s systems are so advanced is due to the cameras being barely visible to the naked eye. They’re fractions of dust that linger, capturing live footage without you knowing.

With the little might remaining in your system, you nod in hope someone somewhere might see it. Even if you don’t make it out of here alive, maybe they’ll at least know what went down.

“Head down, Princess.” You feel a kick to your side, wincing at the repetitive action adding to the bruises forming crossing your skin.

“My name is Y/n.” You spit out, defying everything your brain is telling you. “I’m not your Princess.” Lifting your head up, you smirk despite the cut on your lip tearing. “And you, you’re done for.”

A laugh escapes your lips as you’re forced back to the ground, a cocktail of cries and laughs leaving you as your surroundings begin to blur and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“What did you do?!” You faintly hear the leader bark at the two men watching you as your eyes close, a familiar voice pulling you in and this time, you can’t resist the need for an escape.

Sitting on the bench with your eyes remaining shut, you enjoy the breeze twirling through your hair and the laughter from children running along the docks; their giggles igniting another bout of heartache for something you’ll never have.

You don’t have to open your eyes to know who the clicking of heels along the sidewalk belongs to before she sits down beside you.

“There’s still time to change your mind.” Peggy states, glancing down to notice you rolling your ring in your fingertips. “I just, I want to make sure you know what this means, the implications of this.”

“I know what I’m doing.” You tell her sternly, slipping the diamond ring back on your ring finger. “Is he ready for me?” Glancing up, Peggy nods in response as you both head toward the car waiting for you.

“Come on then, Y/n.” Peggy can’t hide the sorrow in her expression as you eagerly climb into the car. After all this time, you still can’t be dissuaded from this decision.

As you arrive, you’re guided through the corridors that you know like the back of your hand. You smile at the scientists, their assistants and even the cleaners whom you know on a first-name basis.

“There she is,” Howard claps his hands as you walk in, Peggy following behind you. “how are you feeling?” He asks, guiding you past the lab filled with technicians, adding the finishing touches to the machine in question.

“I’m ready.” You respond, walking into a small office as Peggy closes the door, leaving the three of you to talk in private.

“We’ll run this as planned, alright? You’ll be woken up in six months to ensure the machine is fit for purpose and then a year, and so on.” Howard explains, and you nod along. “No going back once you’re in there, kid.” Howard chuckles, catching sight of you playing with the diamond ring on your finger once again.

“He’d be proud of you, Y/n.” Peggy comments, resting her hand on your shoulder as tears form in your eyes. “Both of them would be.”

Sniffing quietly, you remove the ring from your finger and place it on the table, knowing it’ll be placed with the rest of your personal belongings.

“What are we waiting for then?” You ask, pushing the chair back as Howard opens the door and silence ensues as you walk toward the machine.

You remain still beside Peggy as Howard runs over a few things with his team. “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, Peggy?” Your lip trembles as you focus on the brunette.

Trying to hide the frown forming on her red lips, Peggy reaches out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You know I can’t say whether it is right or wrong, Y/n.” Peggy admits. “But, if this is what you want and need to do, then so be it.” She adds, seeing a hint of the Brooklyn boy she loved in you as you step forward, volunteering for the unknown.

“I will be brave.” You mutter to yourself as Howard motions for you. “Thank you for everything, Peg.”

Standing in front of the machine, you watch as the metal door opens for you to step in. With a shaky breath, you lean back into the moulded space built for you.

Lying back, three scientists strap you down, asking countless times whether the straps are too tight or not, but none dare to look you in the eye.

“Well done, team.” Howard speaks up as the scientists back away, leaving you strapped in and now the reality of this is weighing heavy on your mind. “Now Y/n, you can back down, there’s still time.” Howard explains as Peggy hovers behind him, her hands closed into each other.

“I’m good,” You assure him with a smile. “I’m doing this for those we all lost.” You admit.

“Alright then.” Howard nods. “See you in six months, Y/n.”

Closing your eyes, you can hear muffled conversations between the team before an overwhelming cool breeze captures your ankles and works it way upwards.

“I will be brave. I will be brave, James.” You whisper with your last breath before passing out, unaware of how long it would be until you awoke once more.

“Okay, the Agents are inside the compound and there’s a specialist team on their way to help Y/n.” Tony explains as he projects the footage from his phone for all the team to see.

Bucky remains glued to the projection, unable to take his eyes off your lifeless body as the three HYDRA agents talk amongst themselves, ignoring the slightest movements from you whilst their backs are turned.

“Help is on its way, Buck.” Steve mutters to Bucky, hoping to incite some form of reaction, but Bucky doesn’t respond. “Y/n will be alright, we both know she’s tougher than she looks.” Steve chuckles, picturing you chasing several bullies with a bin lid and a pocket knife you stole from Bucky after they gave Steve a split lip.

“I just,” Bucky uneasily raises his voice. “I can’t lose her again, Steve.”

Resting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, Steve holds back the sigh from his lips as he watches the footage, noticing your body twitching. “I don’t think you will, look.” Steve motions and Bucky steps closer, eyeing the projection carefully.

“What’s happening?” Tony asks, looking up to the two soldiers as Bucky’s jaw clenches tightly.

“She’s remembering something.” Bucky states. “Come on, doll. Please, wake up.” He pleads under his breath, wanting to see you open your eyes, to wake up and be alright.

Voices rise with aggression around you as you begin to gain consciousness, the ruckus from before is only getting worse.

“No, we can’t!” One of the men yells whilst the other carries on conversing in Russian, unaware that you've woken up.

Remaining on the ground, you try to control your breathing as snippets of what you saw and what you said replay in your mind.

“I,” You breathe out as your cheeks become damp once more with a mix of tears and blood.

“And this is Bucky.” Steve nods to the taller brunette with the suave smile etched across his lips.

“James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.” Bucky steps forward, lifting your hand up and kisses it softly, never breaking eye contact from you despite the laugh of sheer disgust that left your lips.

“So what do I get to call you?” You ask, now crossing your arms over your chest whilst Bucky hums, taking the sight of you and the beauty you radiate in.

“Well, that’s up to you, doll.” He remarks with a wink before turning around, missing the sight of you rolling your eyes in response.

“You comin’ Y/n?” Steve calls out as Bucky walks ahead, expecting you like all the other dames in the city to follow him and hang on to his every word.

Yet, you stand your ground. “Not today, Steve. I’ve got more important things to do than pretend to be James Barnes’ play toy.”

Bucky turns on his heels quickly. “Oh?” He mutters, raising a brow to you as you simply nod. Unsure of himself, Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, combing his locks back as he tuts in bewilderment.

“Nice to meet you, James.” You salute the man before turning around yourself, hiding the smile forming on your face.

“She, she,” Bucky stutters over his words, a sight Steve struggles to fathom.

“Come on, Buck. I’m sure you’ll see her again real soon.”

“I remember.” You whisper, slowly reeling your hand to your mouth to hold back the snigger that dares to sound.

Echoes of footsteps rushing through the corridors pull you away from your own revelation as a series of Agents come into view with their guns are held up, ready to fire.

Within seconds, gunfire rings through your ears as you cover them, curling into yourself as the three men fall to the ground.

“Y/n?” Someone speaks up, and slowly you uncoil yourself. “Can you stand?”

Unsure of your own voice, you shake your head. “We need a medic, now!” Another calls out whilst you look over to the three men, crimson pooling around them.

“I, where’s Bucky?” You slowly ask, looking up at the Agent before you who blankly stares at you. “Where is he?” You repeat yourself.

The Agent rises to his feet and walks away whilst the medic rushes through, helping you onto a stretcher as you cry out in agony, whimpering for Bucky, your Bucky.

“She’s asking for him, Ma’am.” The Agent mutters to Maria Hill as they both stand by, watching as you’re taken toward the elevator, strapped into the stretcher.

Maria nods. “I’ll get Fury. See to the jet.” She explains before taking her phone and calling the last liable person for this. “Subject 359 is conscious, and has questions.” She simply states.

“And where is she now?” Fury asks through the line.

“Heading to the med bay. She was in bad shape by the time we found her.” Maria explains, passing by the bloodied shards of glass you fell into. “They’re all going to have questions, Nick.”

“I know,” Fury huffs. “and I guess it’s about damn time we answer them.”

L A S T P A R T

(thank you to the following for all the love so far! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know)

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ncitygirls · 4 years ago

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mine (yours pt 2) - jaemin x f reader

fluff, angst?, suggestive, f2l, yours pt 1

a stifling dread has been following you all week long. it’s hard to describe. it feels a lot like drowning: a hot thick uncertainty flooding your lungs, tightening your chest. it’s hard because not once have you ever dreaded seeing jaemin, your- well, that’s the thing. what is jaemin?

he’s your friend, that much you know. from as early as you can remember, jaemin’s light has painted every one of your best memories. he has long been one third of your perfect trio. his calmer, more nurturing demeanour a perfect match to your tough exterior and mark’s more naive disposition. his kind eyes and warm smile stain every dream you’ve had, brightened every dark fear and warmed every cold word. jaemin’s presence alone has remedied every single ache and pain. jaemin is your friend.

but he is also your best friend. so you doubt what you’re feeling is dread but rather that same uncertainty, a fear of the unknown. mark keeps assuring you that this feeling is normal, says it’s part and parcel with trying to navigate this new terrain you’re both entering. that anyone would feel what you’re feeling, that it isn’t unique to you. yet you asked what jaemin had felt, he had said nothing. he shut his smiling lips with a pop. one full of shame and insurmountable pity. because jaemin was nothing if not sure. he was nothing if not certain. jaemin know what he was. which brings you to what you’re not yet ready to call jaemin, what mark has already taken to calling jaemin, and what jaemin has taken to calling himself-

“hey,” your boyfriend sings from his spot where he stands tall at your front door step, his hands clasped behind his back. the pose doesn’t last long, his arm extending forward to reveal a slim bouquet, lilacs dotted between pink camellias. he slips them into your hand as you gaze up at him, your eyes squinting suspiciously. “what?”

“nothing.” you lower your head, in part to inhale their samey scent, but in larger part to hide the smile he already knows you’re wearing. you step aside as he steps forward, making way for him to enter, but he doesn’t. “changed your mind? you not coming in?” you laugh, waving your free hand into your hallway, but he doesn’t budge, a soft smirk stealing his lips. “what?”

“nothing,” he sings, grinning as he mocks you. you glare playfully as he raises his hand, his fingers gently pinching your chin before he leans in. he closes his lips around yours ever so slightly, pressing ever so softly. he huffs as you kiss back, your fingers loosening around the small arrangement. when he pulls away, you whine before shying away from his glowing face. “can i come in?”

“i just said to-”

“i just said to,” jaemin, who has pushed past you, ducks out the way of your flying fist, as he mocks you once again. you shut the door with your hip before following him to the living room. he’s already made himself at home in the small space, his sneakers slipped off by the hallway rug, his jacket hanging off the back of your desk chair. you move to pass him on the couch, only to fall backwards, your back meeting his chest as he tugs you into his lap. “where you running off to?” he asks, holding you firmly in place. “i missed you.”

“to the kitchen,” gulping quickly, you pray the small swallow would somehow soothe your beating heart. you let your head fall to his shoulder, leaning further into him as his fingers glide along your sides. “and how can you miss me, we hung out yesterday,” you sigh, relaxing into the press of his lips to your temple.

“mhm,” he’s removing your apron, eliminating any and all things that might aid in your departure. “i know that, i was there,” you feel his smirk on your skin, paired with a squeeze to your hips. “i could have seen you an hour ago and still miss you now.”

“simp.” the insult falls easily from your lips, though you curse yourself a bit for it. for with it comes the long, drawn out laughter you think has you falling further and further in love with na jaemin. your best friend. your boyfriend.

it all started at mark’s wedding. or so you had thought. for you it had been watching jaemin charm the older members of your family, or entice the younger ones, even aggravate a few in between. there was something about that night that made you see jaemin as more than what he was. whether it be your friend, ready to spin you every which way on the dance floor just to keep you company. or your best friend, ready to do the same, just to keep you from bludgeoning your family to death. or maybe more, ready to do the same, just to make you happy. jaemin was prepared to do any and everything it took to make you feel even an ounce of how you did him. to burn your skin by touch alone, arouse your senses, bring you to the brink of all feeling and emotion, make you fall. for you, this all started then. for jaemin? the start had been gradual, yet all at once.

it was a slow ascent of feelings that never once plateaued. feelings that only grew and grew, that just kept intensifying beyond what one would ever think possible. how can anybody love someone this much? to the point days turned to weeks in their absence, sweetest dreams incomparable to moments spent in their company, their heart swelling till it bulged out the gaps between their ribs. how can jaemin love you so much words quickly lost value, to the point even actions aren’t enough? jaemin can spend hours pouring every emotion he could verbalise into you, before pounding the very same emotions into you. with soft spoken gasps, with languid rolls of his hips. jaemin utilised everything he could to show you he loved you. and yet still, nothing was enough to show you he was yours.

he sees your fears in how you quickly run from his safe embrace, schooling yourself as quickly as you’d let yourself slip. his fingers had finally laid waste to your apron, his nails dragging slowly over your andomen. he hugged as you gasped, your hips pressing into his lap, his lips puckering over the the soft skin of your neck, sucking ever so slightly. “jaem,” you whine, fingers gripping tighter on his thighs, nails curving into his skin through the rips. he just grunts in your ear, one hand grinding you further into his crotch, the other snaking up your blouse to your erect nipple. something about it snaps you back to reality. his hands on you, milking pleasure from you as easily as he’d done at the wedding. “the food.” you rush, pushing yourself off his lap and heading straight for your kitchenette.

jaemin just watches you go, panting as you disappear behind the adjacent pillar, leaving him all flustered. if he’d been a betting man, he’d have just made a fortune. jaemin foresaw your departure before he’d ever pulled you in, his heart yearning to hold you firm between his palms. but he just has to laugh, watching you flit back and forth over the counter tops. he prides himself in knowing you so well, knowing your tells, your habits, your peeves. jaemin knows this is a lot for you, it always kind of has been. it took getting used to, all his attention, but now his sudden overt affection was proving laborious. you reject it firmly in public, but let him have his way in private. or so he thought. because since mark’s wedding, you’ve not let jaemin get further than some light petting and humping. which he can’t fault you for. you’d wanted things to go slow, and he’d give it to you. jaemin would give you anything you wanted if it means one day being yours.

but how long did you expect him to ignore the red raw love he has brewing more and more for you each waking hour? because another second without you feels like an hour, and jaemin is starving.

“here you go-” you place a bowl of plain rice before him, grinning as he squeezes your wrist in thanks. “let me get the chilli.”

“okay,” he breathes, relinquishing you with a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. it’s then jaemin sees nothing of his minor affection has changed, if anything you seem to cling to it, prefer it even. “it smells delicious.”

“thank you,” you sing, serving him two heaped spoon fulls before running for cheese and wine. “i made it special.” he points towards himself, a silent ‘for me?’ in his gaze. “mhm.” jaemin sprints through the meal without a word, his palm laid gently over the skin of your knee as he wolfed down the entire bowl. “damn, don’t choke, jaem.”

“you know i have to finish my food hot.” he laughs, waiting patiently for you to finish before he pushes your shoulder back down when you rise to clear the table. “i’ve got it,” he mumbles against the skin of your cheek, dragging his lip to the shell of your ear. “more wine?”

words escape you when he’s so close, your head bobbing as you hand your glass to him, squeezing his arm. it’s a lot to get used to. a version of jaemin you’s never imagined seeing, a level of affection you hadn’t ever prepared for. it’s overwhelming in the best ways. he has this hypnotic allure. it drenches every word he speaks, every move he makes. his every action warrants an overthought reaction. a kiss to your palm, something you once ignore, even laughed at is now stored in the depths of your heart, stowed away from times in his absence, then jaemin was busy, when his time wasn’t yours. jaemin’s seemingly sudden confession has pushes you so far toward the brink of madness, you wonder whether this has been his plan all along.

especially as you sit perched on his lap, straddled over his thick thighs. he listens carefully as you recount your day, his eyes flickering over the short hairs of your lash, probably counting, taking in the various flecks in your eyes. “and then i had to put her in timeout.”

“no,” he gasps, the perfect amount of shock in his tone. “lina? but she’s your favourite.”

“not anymore,” you grumble, eyes dropped to where your fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “she didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day.”

“really?” as in love with you as he is, as he has always been, jaemin does sometime wonder how it got so bad. because if it was anyone else, he’d be hysterical, tears pouring and he laughed off the worry they put into a classroom argument between two four year olds. but it’s not just anyone. it’s you. your classroom. your four year olds. so, instead of laughing, he let’s himself sigh, his eyes locked on the small tremor in your pouted lip. because it’s not just anyone’s problem, it’s yours. and if it’s yours, then it’s his. so he moves your hand from his shirt, wraps his hands around your closed fists and pulls them up around his neck. he hates himself for enjoying your skin on his. he can’t even cringe as your wet cheek meets his neck, your sniffles more his concern. “it’ll be okay.”

“no, it won’t,” you cry, arms winding around his neck as you breathe in his scent. “she’s a really smart girl, she won’t forget. she’ll never forgive me.”

“yes, she will,” he hums, his hands gliding up and down your back. “kids change like the weather,” he reminds, enjoying how you feel pressed to his chest. “and you’re her favourite too.”

“probably not anymore.”

“well you’re mine,” he admits. well, it’s hard to admit something everyone knows. it’s also hard to ignore the feeling it incites, his words like a warm repellant forcing your body up straight. he grins when you glare at him, your tear stained cheeks drawing his thumbs to your cheek. he only speaks as he drugs the same thumb over your still pouting lip. “what?”

“you’re enjoying this.”

“a little,” he pulls you back to his chest, rocking you side to side. “it’s hard to get you like this anymore.” he slows when you stiffen, your head craning up to meet his blank stare. he sees the question in your eyes, a soft glare he’s seen before but the meaning entirely changed. “it’s just been a while since we’ve been like this.”

“well, that’s your fault,” you breathe, only seeing your mistake as he straightens. it’s never easy hiding from jaemin, because he never makes it easy. before you can avoid his gaze, it’s piercing you. his fingers clasp behind your neck, his thumbs slid under your jaw, anchoring you with his gaze.

“what’s my fault?” he asks, an unsettling peace coating his words, a soft click sounding under his tongue. “what’s my fault, y/n?”

“this! the fact we aren’t the same anymore.”

“what changed?”

“you-” it sticks in your throat as he gazes down at you, watching the realisation his you in an oddly comedic fashion. jaemin hadn’t changed. nothing about him had changed. jaemin gave you all of him, yes, but he always had. jaemin gave you every bit of himself you just didn’t know you had. he was always yours. so what had changed? “me,” you breathe, watching him soften as your eyes gleam up at him. “i-i’ve changed. haven’t i?”

he shrugs softly, his smile even softer. “a bit.”

“a bit?” you cry, eyes wide as he grins dumbly at you. “oh my god, jaem. it’s me.”

“no it isn’t-”

“no, it is! it’s me!” he holds you tighter when you try retreat, your body repelling his affection, feeling so undeserving. “jaem it’s me, i just-i just miss you so much, all the time. and-and i don’t know why. and it’s not like you’ve gone anywhere. you’re here. but you’re not you anymore, and i’m not me. we’re this, we-we’re different now. and-and i don’t know what it means for us. i don’t get what we are.”

“we’re whatever we want to be,” he laughs when you scoff. “what’s wrong with that?”

“you make it sound so easy.”

“it could be,” he shrugs, pressing his forehead to yours as he keeps cradling your warm face in his cool hands. “tell me what you want.”

“i want you.” he swells with pride at your firmness, the words warming him before you add, “i want us. i want us to be how we always were. i want my best friend jaemin,” you watch him nod, the light leaving his eyes before you add again, “but that’s because you’re mine. i mean, you were always mine right? i guess i’m just trying to figure out what that all means.”

“it means,” he mumbles against your forehead, smoothing the skin with a kiss. “we’re exactly the same. i’m still jaemin. you’re still y/n,” he assures you, watching the crease in your brow melt away as he rubs along your jaw. “it’s just, instead of being jaemin and y/n, we’re jaemin and y/n.”

“right,” you nod, barely following, but you nod all the same. “but that’s how we always were.”

“exactly. so there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“i guess,” you agree, sighing softly as he kisses your forehead, “except now i’m yours too.”

“yeah?” he breathes, eyes shining “you’re mine?”

“mhm,” you affirm, shying away from his watery gaze. “i think that’s what’s changed. it’s kind of a lot of pressure.”

“if it helps,” he whispers, lips dragging to the skin beneath your ear. “i’m not taking anyone else for the role. ever.”

“you sure?” his lips pucker at the skin there, sucking softly when you sigh.

“i’m sure.” well, not exactly. he’s yours.

#what even is this #anybody else wanna be jaemin’s? get in line #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin fluff #jaemin smut #jaemin angst #nct angst #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct au #nct jaemin #ncitygirls

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chaoticminhos · 4 years ago

Text

gentle

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: mentions of past abuse, yelling

word count: 3k

a/n: not proofread, this is a suuuuper old request, and i’m back after like two months of being inactive!!! thank you for waiting around for me 🥺

you’d never heard him yell like this, not even when you tripped over his computer cords, ripping them all from his laptop and causing him to lose hours of work. he never got this angry, he never raised his voice at you. he knew how much yelling scared you, so why now did he decide he didn’t care? you thought he cared. he seemed like he cared.

you flinched are every single word that came out of your boyfriends mouth, but he was far too focused on his own frustrations to notice. or maybe he simply didn’t care about the tears building in your eyes and the panic tightening in your throat.

“i don’t understand how you could put down a payment that big and not even talk to me about it first, y/n! i mean seriously, we said we were going to wait to see what other places were available, why the fuck would you think it would be okay to drop half of our fucking funding down on a house we haven’t even decided we really want yet?”

“i’m sorry chan, he- the realtor was so insistent and he kept saying it would go fast and you weren’t there to make him stop talking and i just got nervous and-“

“oh?” he threw his hands into the air, “you got nervous? you got nervous so you threw away a shit ton of our money? we can’t get that back, y/n! if we don’t buy the house, we don’t get all that money back to spend on another house!”

“chan i-“

“thanks for making a huge fucking life decision without me, y/n. nice fucking teamwork.”

not only had you never seen him yell like this, you’d most definitely never had him yell like this at you. the pure frustration he was directing towards you sprung up old memories of someone chan promised to keep you safe from, but any loud and angry voice sounded like the one that used to mean panic and lying to doctors.

any glue you had holding you together broke as the same pleading words that had never worked before flew out of your mouth.

“please, i’m really sorry, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to! i really didn’t, please don’t hurt me, i’m sorry!”

your words became incoherent as you lost control of yourself, the same autopilot routine you’d gotten so used to years ago taking control. you crumpled to the ground, shielding yourself with your arms as you continued to apologize, over and over and over and over. you waited for the pain to come, the arms to rip your hands away from your face and force you to look evil in its eyes, but they never came.

you’d thought they had, but it was just chan placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to steady you and get you to look at him. you immediately flinched away from the touch, shuffling yourself backwards and distancing yourself from the perceived threat.

he reached for you again, but you had the same reaction, not even letting him come into contact with you a second time. upon realizing that physical touch wasn’t the way to bring you back to reality, chan dropped any ounce of anger that had been in his voice just moments before and called to you.

“y/n, baby girl, it’s me, it’s okay. baby, it’s chan. can you look at me?”

you shook your head. you weren’t hearing him.

“baby girl, it’s chan. i’m not him, it’s chan. i’m here for you baby, and i’m so sorry i yelled.”

a few minutes of continuing to coax the calm out of you with his voice took the violent shaking from your body and you finally raised your head to meet his eyes. you still wouldn’t let him get close enough for him to pull you into his arms and keep you there, keep you safe.

“i wouldn’t ever hurt you y/n. i’m not him, okay?he’s not here. he can’t hurt you anymore.”

he inched his way over to you, moving slowly and checking constantly to make sure he wasn’t frightening you with the proximity until he was finally close enough to touch you, but he didn’t. instead, he crouched down in front of you and opened his arms wide.

“princess, do you want to come here? whenever you’re ready, i’m here to hold you and keep you safe, okay?”

he’d expected hesitation, but you jumped immediately into his arms, wrapping your own around his body. you were pressed so tightly against him that he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. it broke his heart to know that it wasn’t butterflies causing your heart to beat so fast for him, but instead it was fear.

“i’m sorry for yelling, i shouldn’t have yelled.”

with every second that your tears soaked into his shirt and your labored breathing began to calm down, chan was replaying the entire fight in his head, cursing himself for ever raising his voice in the first place.

after what felt like hours of chan mentally screaming at himself for scaring you, you finally spoke again. your raspy and shaking voice are what finally brought tears to chan’s own eyes.

“i’m sorry.”

“no.” he said firmly, “you have nothing to apologize for baby, i’m the one who should be on my knees begging for forgiveness. i’m so sorry y/n, i had no right to raise my voice like that.”

you shook your head, face buried in his shoulder, “no, i messed up. now we have to buy the house and you don’t even like it.”

your voice cracked and a fresh wave of sobs threatened to choke out your throat, but chan interrupted them.

“my sweet angel, i could not care less about the house. what matters is that i’m living there with you. if you like the house, if you can imagine starting a family with me there, then i love it.”

a wave of relief flooded through chan when a soft smile broke out on your face.

“i think the yard would be perfect for kids to play in.”

chan rested a hand on your cheek and guided your face close to his, “then it’s a good thing you put down a payment. i’ll ask the realtor about when we can start to move in tomorrow, okay?”

you nodded as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips. the taste of salty tears on your lips only made him want to kiss you more, hold you closer, show you that he loved you more than he could have ever imagined loving someone, if you’d let him.

and you’d decided that you finally would.

“chan,” you pulled away, eyes locked right to his, “do you think were ready for kids?”

he pouted in thought, “i think we’re going to be wonderful parents, sooner or later.”

eyes still locked to his, you spoke.

“can we do sooner?”

you caught him off guard with the question and it took him a moment to process what you were suggesting.

in all the time you’d been together, you’d never slept together. chan knew you were nervous and he wasn’t going to pressure you, no matter how badly he wanted to outline your entire body with kisses and praise.

he’d always known your first time would start with you suggesting it, but now that it was finally happening, he was almost too flustered to act.

almost.

he shifted his seating at the simple mention of finally having you, locking his eyes to yours.

“are you sure, princess?”

you nodded, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “i want you.”

that was all it took for chan to capture your lips in his, leaning you back until your back was flat against the ground.

you weren’t a stranger to kissing chan like this or even to the reactions his body had to it. you’d seen him worked up many times because of you, but he always handled it himself.

but he made you feel safe, he made you feel loved. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel so cared for before you’d met chan. he changed your life, he’d helped you through so much. you wanted to help him, too.

you slid a hand from his neck down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. he yelped in surprise, not expecting you to be so forward.

he gripped your hand, guiding it back to his neck with a small laugh.

“the first time we have sex will not be on the floor of this shitty kitchen.”

you laughed back as he stood you up, sweeping you into his arms and easily carrying you to your shared bedroom. you wouldn’t have been able to stop him from picking you up even if you had wanted to, but the thought didn’t scare you. with anyone else, it would have. the feeling of powerlessness would have overwhelmed you, but you trusted chan. he wouldn’t hurt you. he was carrying you to safety, not to fear.

he sat you down on the mattress, taking the time to remove his shirt before crawling on top of you and connecting his lips back to yours.

as much as you loved kissing the man on top of you, you lightly shoved him away, hands sliding down his bare torso as you took him all in. he was gorgeous. the freckles across his chest and his hot skin against your palms made waves of butterflies go through your stomach.

chan let you marvel at him for a moment before leaning down and kissing your neck, speaking warmly into the skin.

“now you’ve seen me. can i see you, angel?”

there wasn’t even a second of hesitation before you were nodding, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull off your shirt.

if it has been anyone else asking for you to reveal yourself in your most vulnerable, you would have hesitated. you would have done so much more than hesitate, but it wasn’t someone else. it was chan. there was no reason to hesitate with chan.

his fingers ghosted over your back as he fumbled to unclip your bra, tossing it onto the quickly forming pile of clothes on the ground.

he failed an attempt to hold i’m a groan at the sight of you under him. the noise sent a wave of affection and lust through your body, landing right in your core.

he leaned down and placed another gentle kiss to your lips before trailing his way down your body, landing on your left boob. he swirled his tongue around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. he made a sound of approval in response and repeated his action, gaining the same reaction.

god, he’d wanted to take his time with you, but you were making it difficult for him to keep his patience.

continuing his trail of kisses, he found his way to the waistband of your pants, tapping your hip as a signal for you to shift your weight to help him pull them off. you complied, it wasn’t like your patience was holding up much better than his.

you reached for him, trying to get him to the same position you were in, but he pushed your hand away. you let out an annoyed whine and got an amused chuckle in response, which only made your pout grow.

“you’re so eager y/n. you want me bad, don’t you?”

you nodded and his smile grew.

“be patient, baby girl. i don’t want to hurt you.”

your reply was instant, “you won’t hurt me.”

he raised an eyebrow at you, a hint of something other than the pure affection he’d been showing you thus far showing through his eyes.

“i’m not? okay.”

he leaned back on his heels, undoing his belt and jeans. you watched as he pulled himself from his confinements and kept the position like he was on display, letting you take in every inch of him.

you’d never seen a dick up close and personal before, but you were sure that chan was huge. a smirk grew on his face as he watched you turn back on you’re statement.

“still think you’ll handle me fine with no prep?”

too stunned to form a coherent sentence, you just stared at him, raking your eyes over his body.

he shrugged, “i didn’t hear a no.”

you broke from your trance as he went into motion, leaning down close to you and situating himself between your legs.

“wait!”

he paused, raising an eyebrow at you.

“i didn’t know.”

“didn’t know what, angel?”

he knew perfectly well what you were referring to, but he wanted to make you say it.

“didn’t know you were so big.”

both his heart and his cock throbbed at the crude words coming out of your mouth in that innocent little voice of yours.

unable to contain a smile, he leaned down and placed a loving kiss to your temple, keeping his place between your legs as he drug his hand down your body. a small gasp left you when his fingers came in contact with your heat, the pure intensity of having someone touch you for the first time nearly overwhelming you.

you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle much with how intense every touch he gave you already was, but you quickly changed your mind to wanting so much more as he slid a single finger through your folds and into your heat.

the feeling was uncomfortable at first, foreign, but you got used to it quickly. just as you’d adjusted to the feeling, a second finger was being added, stretching you further. you winced slightly at the pain the stretch caused, but the pleasure as chan curled his fingers against your walls easily outweighed it.

it wasn’t long before you were practically begging him for more, insisting that you were ready now, that he had worked you good enough for you to handle him.

he was worried that he hadn’t, that you could use a couple more minutes of prep, but how was he supposed to say no to you when you were begging like that? especially after waiting so long to finally have you in this position, he couldn’t.

it was hard to believe you’d had any initial hesitation with the way you wrapped your legs around his back as he sat lined up at your entrance, partly to tease you and partly to give you one final change to back out before you went any further, but there was no way you were going to back out now.

you had one thing on your mind; the man above you. you wanted him, and nothing could change your mind about this. no amount of nerves or fear could overpower the love and need you felt at the moment.

it took everything out of chan not to ruin you the second he slipped inside your walls. you swallowed him so perfectly, right walls clenching around him as he began a slow pace.

he made the mistake of opening his bliss-closed eyes and looking at the place his cock met your body. he held on to every last ounce of control he had as he watched himself slide in and out of you so perfectly. you were so small, but you still took him like it was what you were made for.

“god, baby, you’re doing so good.” he groaned, tearing his eyes away from your heat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. the mixture of his lips against your neck and his length working inside of you built up a knot in your stomach, and your moans started to sound more like whines. chan noticed, both by your change in tone and the way you were helplessly clenching around him, and brought a hand down to your clit, circling his fingers softly against you. in a wave of pleasure you handy even known was possible, you gripped hard into chan’s shoulders and swore you were seeing stars. chan was lucky you’d talked about having children soon, because he didn’t know if he could have pulled himself out of you if he had needed to. the urge to work you through your climax and let his own go was something he was glad he didn’t have fight against.

yet another foreign feeling touched your senses as chan released inside of you, but you were too far gone in coming down from your high to really even notice. the overstimulation of him still being inside of you wasn’t your main concern as you came back down from the clouds.

you came back to reality as he slipped himself out of you, collecting any cum that came out with him and pressing it back into your hole with his fingers. you lied limp as he found your panties and secured them back over your heat, muttering something about making sure you kept every piece of him safe inside of you.

you barely registered that he’d left the room before he was back, two glasses of water and a plate of fruit in his arms. somewhere along the way his boxers had ended up back on him, just another thing you’d been too stunned to process.

you heard the sound of him setting the glasses and plate on a side table before feeling the bed dip beside you. he chuckled, placing his hand on your cheek and turning you to look at him. your eyelids fluttered and his heart swelled. he helped you into a sitting position and handed you one of the waters, setting the plate of food on the bed beside you and ordering you to eat something.

“you seem dizzy, i don’t want you to pass out.”

you laughed raising an eyebrow, “who’s fault is it that i’m dizzy?”

he put his hands up in defense, “you’re the one who seduced me!”

neither of you could contain your giggles as you popped one last grape into your mouth before handing chan the plate and your glass to set aside. the second his hands were free, you pulled him down to a laying position and yanked the blankets over the two of you, finding a soft pillow in his chest.

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bellakitse · 4 years ago

Text

Greener on the Other Side

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid."

Alex hasn't heard anything about TK Strand in over four years. That's about to change.

Alex Fletcher walks into Gramercy Tavern twenty minutes later than he agreed to meet his friends. He already dreads what is sure to be a lecture on his constant tardiness from the group, but more so, what he knows will be pointed looks when they see he’s come alone instead of with his boyfriend.

Spotting them to the left of the restaurant, he starts to make his way over to them. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts to say with a charming smile as all five of them look up at his voice, hoping to curb the scolding before it starts. “The 6 train was an absolute mess. It got the 33rd street and then refused to go forward.”

Liz and Becca share a look at his excuse, and Alex has to keep from rolling his eyes at them. He gets it. Being late is one of his less desirable character traits, and they find it annoying, but after over a decade of friendship, he thinks they should get over it by now.

“Yeah, the trains have been acting up all week,” Malcolm offers while his wife Patricia gives him a small smile, the two of them ever the peacemakers of the group. “Sit down, man.”

Alex offers his friends a more sincere smile, shaking hands with him and his other buddy Chris before giving all three women kisses on the cheek.

“Where is Dean?” Patricia asks politely, and Alex winces at her mistake. It’s been a while since he and Dean ended things, but it’s also been a while since Patricia has joined her husband at one of their dinners.

“We broke up a few months ago,” he tells her, his face feeling tight from his fake smile. “I’m dating someone new now. His name is Wallace.”

“Oh,” Patricia says softly, going a little red in the face at her blunder. “My apologies, Alex.”

He waves her off, wanting to move on from the embarrassing moment quickly. “No worries, Patty,” he says to her. “And Wallace wanted to come, but he had to work,” he explains, trailing off lamely, not believing the lie himself, but it’s not like he can tell his friends that Wallace simply didn’t want to come because he thought it would be boring.

His friends all give him understanding, if not quite believing looks, and Alex wonders just how pathetic his expression is that they don’t push for more.

The mood around the table is awkward and quiet, making his skin feel tight. Thankfully their waiter comes over to take their drink order, easing the moment, giving him something else to focus on.

He starts to loosen up once there is a vodka soda in his hand. He listens to Liz as she talks about her latest architecture project, laughs at the funny story Chris tells them about his 1st-grade class painting the class bunny with washable markers. He’s enjoying their company, forgetting for a moment that his boyfriend should be there with him getting to know his friends when Becca’s eyes light up as Chris wraps up another story about his students.

“You guys will never believe who I saw yesterday walking out of FAO Schwarz,” she starts, her brown eyes lighting up with the chance to share some juicy gossip.

Alex leans in, already intrigued by the look on her face.

“Who?” Liz asks with a grin, curious herself.

“TK Strand,” Becca answers, saying the name with emphasis, and Alex gets why even as he feels shock go through him. It’s been over four years since he has seen or heard from TK. Not since the night he stopped him from proposing, confessing he was in love with someone else.

Mitchell, he thinks bitterly as he takes a large gulp of his drink. In the end, he’d turned out to be Alex’s own personal karma for hurting TK.

Walking in on him and another guy from their gym eight months into their official relationship had been a kick in the teeth and a hard lesson to learn.

He shakes his head to clear it from the lousy memory just in time to hear Becca’s following comment, shocking him more than her first. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

Becca looks at him, hesitating as she bites down on her lip, looking remorseful for a moment, probably remembering that out of all of them, he’d be the one with the most invested interest.

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid. They were coming out of the toy store when I bumped into them, and he introduced them to me. His husband’s name is Carlos, and their little boy is Luca. Really cute kid – was talking a mile a minute about all the toys in the place, and given all the bags they had, they must have bought him half the store.”

“Wow,” Chris breathes out, his surprise evident. “I can’t believe he’s married and with a kid. How old do you think?”

“Four,” Becca answers instantly. “I asked Luca, and he held up his fingers.”

Alex shakes his head again. It’s been four years since he and TK were together, and he has a four-year-old son. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says mostly to himself.

“I get the feeling he’s adopted,” Becca answers. “Or maybe Carlos’ son,” she continues with a shrug. “But he called TK dad.”

“What was the husband like?” Liz questions, and Alex is grateful because he can’t bring himself to ask.

“He was polite and friendly,” Becca pauses, shooting him another look before continuing. “Ridiculously hot, and hopelessly in love with TK. I spent maybe ten minutes with them, and you guys should have seen the way he looked at him. It was like TK hung the moon.”

The table is quiet for a moment. For his benefit, he’s sure, as he tries to process everything he’s learned, when Liz speaks up again.

“Good for TK. He deserves that and more,” she says with a smile on her face that takes a hard edge when he shoots her a glare. “What?” she questions, her whole expression challenging him. “You didn’t take care of him when you guys were together, and he’s a great guy. I always liked him even though we lost touch after you broke up. I’m glad he’s found happiness.”

Alex bites down on the urge to lash out at his friend, not only is it a losing battle with Liz, but deep down in the parts of him where he has buried his guilt and shame at his past actions, he knows he can’t argue with the truth she just laid on him.

֎֎֎

The rest of the dinner is awkward to say the least. Even though they move on from TK, Alex can’t stop thinking about his ex and what he’s learned. He pulls Becca to the side as they’re leaving, grilling her for any more information she might have.

She finally tells him TK had mentioned they were staying with his mother and little brother – one of the few things he did know about TK and his family since Gwyneth and his father ran in the same legal circles. He’d learned about the woman’s surprise pregnancy almost three years ago.

Becca looks at him as he absorbs the information before letting out a heavy sigh, reminding him not to do anything stupid.

He’d given her an absent nod that even he didn’t believe. Which is probably why he’s outside of Gwyneth’s Park Avenue apartment in a hat and sunglasses like a stalker, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex and his husband.

Whether luck is on his side or karma wants to teach him another lesson, he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s been outside of the swanky apartment building for maybe 15 minutes, trying to decide what exactly he thinks he’s doing, when the front door opens and out walks the person he wants to see.

He ducks behind a tree just in time to not be spotted, peeking behind it to look at the small family.

TK, at 26-years-old, had been a beautiful man; Alex remembers that well. But now, at 30, he’s even more stunning if that’s even possible. He walks out of the building with a tall, muscular man Alex instantly recognizes as the ‘ridiculously hot’ mystery husband. Each of them with a little boy in their arms.

“So what are we doing today?” he hears TK ask with a grin on his face as the little boys instantly start to chant, ‘Park, park, park!’

“I wanna see the penguins, Dada,” exclaims the little boy in the arms of TK’s husband. Carlos and Luca, he remembers.

TK smiles softly at his son before looking at the child in his own arms. “What about you, little brother? Do you want to go to the Central Park Zoo and see the penguins?” he asks, tickling his chin, getting a happy giggle along with a nod from the little boy.

TK’s grin grows before he looks over at his husband, getting a nod from the man too.

“It’s unanimous then,” TK proclaims in an animated voice that has the boys lighting up. “To the park! To the penguins!”

The pair of boys let out a ‘yeah!’ leaning over at each other to share a clumsy high-five that has the adults laughing.

“You just had to rile them up, troublemaker,” Carlos scolds TK, and he might be a stranger to Alex, but he can tell it’s said with amused fondness.

“You love me,” TK teases his husband, going easily when the man reaches out to tug him in closer by his shirt, turning his face up as his husband leans in to kiss him, tilting to the side to keep the boys out of the way.

Alex swallows hard at the display. Even from where he’s hiding, he can see TK’s bright smile and dancing green eyes once he and his husband break the kiss.

“Always, my love,” Carlos tells TK as he kisses the side of his face adoringly.

“Dada, Papa,” Luca groans out. “Kissing later, park now,” he continues, much to the amusement of the two men.

“So demanding,” TK teases, leaning in to kiss the little boy’s cheek too, laughing at the face he makes. “Okay, let’s go.”

They start towards the park, and Alex hesitates for a moment. He’s seen and heard TK and his family with his own eyes and ears. It’s obvious his ex is happy and not at all thinking about him. He should turn around in the opposite direction and leave before his luck runs out and they spot him. It’s the reasonable thing to do, and yet he finds himself following them about half a block back, keeping his head down.

He can’t hear them from this distance, but he can watch them. He takes in the way the two men hold hands while each holding on to a child, listening and chatting with the two little ones. Everything about them screams family, and Alex can’t deny the dull ache it causes inside his chest.

Is this what he and TK could have had?

He follows them through the park until they come to a series of benches. He watches as TK hands over his little brother to his husband, the man easily carrying both kids. TK sits down, but no one else does. Instead, he waves at them as his husband walks away with the children, leaving TK alone.

Alex hesitates again. This is his chance to approach TK, and yet he’s frozen in place by indecision.

A moment later, his ex takes the choice out of his hand.

He startles as TK turns his head to look straight at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there?” he calls out to him casually, the picture of calm as he places his arms on the backrest of the bench. It’s different from the TK he remembers, who was always constantly bouncing his legs with nervous energy.

“How did you – “ he starts, feeling awkward and off-balance.

“I didn’t,” TK answers with a shrug as Alex gets closer to him. “It was Carlos who realized. He’s a cop. Noticing weirdos is kind of his job.”

Alex cringes at the descriptor as he comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi, TK,” he says lamely, wincing again at the high pitch sound of his voice.

TK raises an eyebrow at him again. “Hello, Alex. Any particular reason you’re following us in that get-up?” he questions, pointing at his hat and sunglasses.

Alex feels his face grow hot at the question. He reaches up, taking them off. “Becca said she saw you,” he says uncomfortably, getting a casual nod back from his ex. “And I got curious,” he continues weakly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“That sounds like poor impulse control,” TK mutters to himself. He moves to the side, leaving half the bench open for Alex to decide if he wants to take a seat or not.

Alex would be embarrassed by the speed with which he takes the offer, but the joy at being allowed to get closer overrides that. Neither says anything after he sits down, him because he’s nervous, TK it seems because he’s simply waiting him out.

“So,” he starts slowly. “You’re visiting?”

TK looks at him, seeming to study him before giving him a nod. “We try to see my mother and my little brother Robbie every few months. Sometimes they come to see us, but New York is always pretty in the spring, and Luca has never been.”

“That’s your son,” he blurts out, his face going hot again at the look TK shoots him.

“Becca shared everything, did she,” he questions with a dry smile, shaking his head to himself.

“The group had dinner,” he explains, not needing to add who exactly was there. There was a time when TK would have sat right next to him at one of those dinners, charming everyone with stories about fighting fires and daring rescues.

“Ah,” TK exhales softly. “It’s nice you all still do that. They’re good people. I liked them.”

“They liked you too,” Alex answers, giving TK a half-smile. “Liz was thrilled to hear that you’re married and have a kid. She’s happy you’re happy.”

TK smiles, this time more genuine. “That sounds like her,” he comments, looking nostalgic for the first time. “She was always kind to me,” he finishes, not adding anything else.

It goes quiet between them again, causing Alex’s nerves to fray at the edges. He’s not used to this TK. The one he remembers always filled the silence, even if it was just with nervous chatter.

“So, are you?” he can’t help but blurt out, swallowing nervously when TK gives him a curious look. “Are you happy?”

TK lets out a huff, and while he doesn’t smile or laugh, Alex can see a hint of amusement in his bottle-green eyes. “Is that why you’re here? You want to know if I’m happy?”

He feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand at the mocking he hears in TK’s voice. “Is that so crazy?” he questions defensively. “The last time we spoke wasn’t precisely the best encounter – “

“That’s because I was getting ready to propose to you and instead found out you were fucking around my back with a spin instructor,” TK interrupts him, surprising Alex with how calm he is. There is no anger or reproach in TK’s voice like Alex anticipated, just a simple fact. It hurts Alex more than he expected to witness how unaffected TK seems. “How is Mitchell by the way?”

Alex clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as embarrassment courses through him. He wants to stand up and walk away from this. He’s not sure what he’d hoped to accomplish by seeking TK out, but it’s clear now whatever it was, he isn’t going to get it.

He looks at TK to find a mild curiosity on his face, like Alex’s answer doesn’t really matter to him one way or another.

“We broke up,” he answers anyway, taking a breath to try to soothe the ache before his next words. “I found him in our bed with someone else less than a year after you and I broke up.”

“Well shit,” TK says quietly, letting out a breath of his own. He doesn’t look gloating the way he has a right to look. Instead, he looks at Alex with what can only be called compassion. “Karma didn’t just pay you back. It sucker-punched you in the face, huh?”

Alex lets out a startled laugh at the description. TK joins him with a chuckle of his own, and Alex welcomes it even if it’s at his own expense. They laugh for a few seconds before they let it trail off.

“To answer your question,” TK starts to say. He looks at him, bobbing his head softly. “Yes, I’m happy. I’m the kind of happy where I wake up in the morning, look at my husband sleeping, usually with our kid between us, and I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”

“You love him,” Alex whispers, not really needing an answer when he can see it clearly on his face.

TK answers anyway. “He’s my soulmate,” he says with a smile that isn’t directed at him at all. It’s directed at the man who walked away with two kids in his arms minutes before. “I used to think that was you,” he continues, his voice sounding far away, lost in the past while Alex aches in the present. “I was so sure of it once, and then I met Carlos. I was still a mess about you, and I wasn’t looking to fall in love at all, but there he was, and I fell. I fell so fast, Alex. Years later, I’m still falling in love with him every single day.”

“That sounds – “ Alex starts, exhaling through the dull throbbing in his chest. “Scary, honestly.”

TK smiles, bright and beautiful, just like Alex remembers. “It is,” he says with a short laugh. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also amazing, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”

Alex nods quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry you haven’t found that yet,” TK continues softly because it seems that surprising Alex is the name of the game today. He gives TK a shocked look that has him giving Alex a compassionate look back. “I never wished you ill will. I was hurt and angry after everything went to hell between us, but in the end, I wanted you to find someone to love the way you couldn’t love me and for that person to love you back just the same.”

Alex swallows hard at TK’s words, feeling overwhelmed by them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

TK looks away from him, and Alex follows his gaze to find that his husband and the kids are coming back with ice cream in their hands. “Thank you for saying that,” he says softly as he stands. He looks down at Alex, giving him a slight quirk of his mouth. “Goodbye, Alex. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Alex watches TK walk away from him, knowing it will be the last time he’ll see him. “Goodbye, TK,” he whispers at his back, feeling the loss more now than he did four years ago.

֎֎֎

“Dada, we got ice cream!” Luca exclaims happily as he slurps on his spiderman popsicle.

“I can see that. Can I have a taste of spidey?” he questions, leaning in when Luca sweetly offers him his treat. “Mmm, that’s yummy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Luca smiles up at him, his face already a sticky red and blue mess. He looks at Robbie to see his face is yellow from his Spongebob popsicle. He smiles at them fondly as he turns his backpack to his front, searching for the wet wipes to clean their faces.

“We got you a cone with sprinkles,” Carlos says with a smile, though TK can see the worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

TK looks at his husband, taking in his concern for him along with his ever-present love, and smiles as he remembers what he just told Alex moments ago. The love he and Carlos share is so strong – it can be frightening at times to feel so much and so intensely for another person, but like he told Alex, he wouldn’t change it for the world when it means Carlos loves him back just as strongly.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers, reaching out to touch Carlos’ cheek. “Everything is okay,” he smiles at his husband before looking down at his son and little brother. “Better than okay because we’re going to go see some penguins!”

Luca and Robbie cheer happily.

“Let’s go, Robbie,” Luca says to his uncle, throwing an arm over the other little boy’s shoulder.

TK and Carlos watch them walk a few steps ahead of them, chatting away the way only little kids can.

“You sure you’re alright?” Carlos asks as he hands him a melting ice cream. TK takes it, giving it a few licks to keep it from dripping.

“I swear, babe,” he assures him as he wraps an arm around Carlos’ waist. “We talked, and then we said goodbye.”

“What did he want?” Carlos asks curiously.

TK shrugs. He’ll be honest even after talking to Alex; he’s still not entirely sure what the other man wanted out of the conversation. “I’m not even sure he knows,” he answers after a moment. “He apologized for the past and asked me if I was happy. Maybe he was feeling guilty.”

“What did you tell him?” Carlos questions, a smile playing on his mouth when TK shoots him a look. “What?” he asks innocently, and TK can’t help but chuckle at his fishing.

“I told him,” he starts to say, making sure that he’s holding Carlos’ gaze, as usual falling in love all over again as he gets lost in Carlos’ soulful brown eyes. “That every morning, I wake up amazed I got so lucky to love and be loved by you.”

Carlos pulls him to his side, pressing his face into his neck. “I’m the lucky one, Ty,” he whispers against his skin.

TK smiles at Carlos’ words, his smile growing as Luca shouts for them to keep up; the penguins are waiting. “We both are, my love.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #outsider POV #my writing

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years ago

Text

A/N: So. I wrote Anakin. Honestly the man has been living rent free in my mind for so long and we all know what I’m like for an angry angsty Star Wars boy. I am suffering with Imposter Syndrome massively with this because I don’t think I got his character down 100%. And well, I am a perfectionist. Anyway, here have this dumpster fire of a one shot.

Anakin Skywalker x Sith!Reader

Warnings: Canon violence, character death, lots of a Jedi hate talk. Damn fucking Jedi. Oh and a shit ton of angst.

Word Count: 1909

Your black robes fluttered around your legs as you peered over the ledge, a Jedi ship had come into land and you let a sly smile creep across your face. It was the Jedi you wanted, you could feel the ripples of his power through the force, the anger and darkness always with him even if he didn’t use them. You moved away and headed deeper into the compound, he was coming to stop you, take you back to the Jedi Council. You felt the presence of the 501st as they spread out looking for you but their force signatures were dulled by the brightness of him. Already the anticipation of battle thrummed through your body, the hilts of your sabers melded perfectly to the curve of your palms. Pulling down the visor on your mask you paced feeling him coming closer and closer until finally the door opened and there he stood in his black Jedi robes.

“I assumed you’d got lost,” you shot at him.

“I could sense your loathsome presence as soon as I landed,” he replied haughtily. You carried on pacing, seeing his saber still attached to his belt, the sure arrogance he had in his abilities made you proud. He was always such a cocky bastard but he had every right to be.

“What happens now, Skywalker? You think I will go quietly so you can hand me over to the traitors of the Galaxy?”

“The Jedi are not the traitors here!” He roared.

“Yes they are! And you know it!” His eyes followed you, across the floor, his expression darkening. “How can you not see their narrow minded ideas are strangling the Galaxy? They sit in their temple, allowing this war to continue all the while saying they don’t advocate it. They are apparently keepers of the peace and yet shattering it time and time again!”

“No! I will not listen to your lies!” You lifted your chin in defiance.

“Then come and shut me up,” your voice sneered through the vocoder. He moved quickly and your sabers came alive in your hands, the loud clash of the beams sent sparks over your heads. “The Jedi are a lie, their only legacy is failure…” you continued.

“No!” The force push hit you in the chest and a laugh burst from your chest as you slammed into the wall.

“Yes! Use that rage on me, Anakin.”

“You don’t want me to fight you,” he threatened, making you grin behind the mask.

“Oh baby, I’m counting on it.” You ducked as his blue lightsaber pierced the wall, you took the opening, punching him in the stomach making him grunt in surprise and retreat, before coming at you again. The sabers danced in a pattern that was all too familiar. You met each other move for move, nothing survived the brightness of your blades as you both cleaved a path of destruction. You spun out of his reach, putting some debris between you knowing it wasn’t much of a barrier, not when it came to you and Anakin. “They are oppressing you Anakin! They will never set you free to accomplish your true potential! They do not see the power you possess.”

“And you do?” He asked aggressively, pointing his saber at your chest as he roamed across the floor.

“I have always seen you.” He frowned and you sensed his confusion at your words. Retracting your blades you removed your mask letting it fall to the floor with a thud. “They told you I was dead didn't they?” You asked softly. The brightness of his own blade diminished followed by the ripples of surprise and crushing sadness but he stayed where he was. “More lies,” you pointed out.

“I don’t understand, Obi-Wan…”

“Obi-Wan misled you. He didn’t want to tell you the truth in case you came looking for me,” you spread your arms. “But the force guided you back to me anyway.” He whispered your name like it physically pained him, taking a step back as you stepped forward. “Change is coming, the end of an era giving way to the dawn of the Empire.”

“No, stop!” He cried.

“Join me Anakin….we can make the Galaxy a better place.” You backed him against the wall, his blue eyes closing as though he could stop himself from seeing you. “I know the pain you bear,” you whispered leaning into him. “I can help you face it, use it.”

“It is not the Jedi way, I will not fall for this!” You turned away from him growling with frustration.

“Stop being so blind! How do you refuse to see through the veil of deceit they have draped over us?” You screamed.

“How do you refuse to see the good! Has the touch of the light left you that much in the dark?” It hurt you, seeing him like this, sensing his pain and torment but it was necessary. If you could get Anakin onside the war would be won and you would be Darth Sidious’ prize apprentice. Turning the Chosen one was a task only you could accomplish, because out of all the people in the Galaxy, you were the one Anakin would not bring himself to destroy.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked him, watching as his chest heaved in distress.

“You will come with me, maybe the Jedi can help you…” you tutted in annoyance at his words.

“What a ridiculous notion! The Jedi can’t even help themselves let alone anyone else. Look at Ahsoka…” his blade roared to life in his hands as he flew at you, clashing against your red blades.

“You will leave Ahsoka out of this!” He snarled.

“But she is a part of this, we are all a part of this story that the Jedi have written,” you shouted over the crackling of your blades as he forced you back. The blades scissored out and his face grew close enough so you could feel his breath on your face. “You know I speak the truth Anakin, it’s why it upsets you so much.”

“No!” The air was pushed from your body and you fell backwards, your sabers falling from your grasp and skitting across the floor. You looked up into the light of the blue blade, seeing him standing over you with that twisted look on his face. The light of it shone in his tear filled eyes and you waited with bated breath. “I trusted you! Why didn’t you come and find me?” He shouted.

“What good would it have done? Would you have helped me like you helped her?” His saber lowered, but it didn’t go out and you chose a different tactic. “They asked you to spy on the Chancellor didn’t they?” He frowned, not hiding the shock he felt at your words. “I have my sources,” you spoke before he could question where you got the information. “Did that feel right to you? Is that a Just course of action for the Jedi to take?”

“I don’t…” you stood up slowly keeping eye contact.

“Use your brain Anakin!”

“I am!” He yelled turning away, his hand held out to you as though he wanted to stop you advancing.

“Anakin,” you whispered. “Just embrace the darkness.” His body slumped and you felt the streams rushing past you as he accepted the pain and anger inside him. You laughed, opening your arms at the vortex created by the force, it swirled around him, welcoming him. “You will not regret this Anakin! He will reward you beyond your wildest dreams!” You retrieved your sabers off the floor, snapping them to your belt before picking up your mask. When you turned Anakin was right behind you, his piercing eyes staring straight through you.

“What do we do now?” He asked and you hesitated slightly, sensing something still had to be unlocked within him but you didn’t know what. It wasn’t your place, you weren’t his master. You were his equal.

“I will take you to my master. He will know what to do.” You began to walk off but his hand snatched at your arm.

“What did he tell you about the rules of the Sith?”

“Enough,” you responded. “We could overthrow him,” you suggested with a smirk. Anakin released your arm and you relaxed slightly. “We were always such a team, unbeatable even on the side of the light, imagine what we could accomplish with an entire Galaxy at our fingertips?”

“I missed you,” he whispered and you took a step towards him. You leaned your forehead against his temple finally allowing your feelings to come to the forefront. Anakin had been everything to you, it had killed you to leave him behind but Sidious had promised you happiness in the end and now here you are achieving that. Your hand sought his own out, his fingers clammy as he gripped you tightly.

“And I missed you,” you breathed against his skin. His face shifted, his nose pressing against your cheek and your heart pounded at finally being reunited with the one person you wanted in the entire Galaxy. “The Clones are coming,” you murmured.

“I can sense them,” he replied, still not moving away from you. His expression was one of torture and you swept a strand of hair gently off his brow.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“There is….something I need to do.”

“Can I help?” You whispered, brushing your lips against his cheek.

“Yes.” He shifted, your chests pressing together as he finally kissed you. His lips were soft and lingering making you melt into him so you were unprepared for the burning sensation in your side. Your mouth opened against his in a loud gasp of surprise, his tears glinted in the glowing blue light of his saber as it protruded from your body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. You couldn’t speak, your body refused to take a breath and you could see the darkside emitting from his irises as he gazed mournfully at you. “My master sent me to find you.” He sobbed when you slumped against him, not able to hold your weight anymore, the smell of your own burning flesh making you feel sick. His blade retracted but still the pain remained, the sting of betrayal coupled with the hurt of your life ending by the hand you trusted the most.

He followed you to the ground, your legs folding like they had no bones left in them as numbness spread through your body. “I will see peace and justice reign in the new Empire.” Your eyes widened, the only response you were able to give as the life slowly ebbed away from you. “I will never forget you.” You wanted to ask why, he had been genuinely surprised to see you under the mask and then you realised you’d both been played. Only the strongest would come out of this room alive, but you had been blinded. Tricked by your own feelings that maybe, just maybe he would have joined you rather than burying you in his quest for power. His hand cradled your head, his tears pattering onto your skin, mingling with the lone tear that ran from the corner of your own eye. We could have done this together, Anakin….

“It never would have worked. I’m saving you.” He replied as your world grew darker. “You were the one war I could never win….until now.”

#please don’t hate me #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x sith!reader #sith!reader #angst #I’m sorry #don’t come at me #this is my first time writing Anakin

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

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He Gets Jealous ~ Park Jimin

You had felt the eyes of the guy staring at you for most of the night as you moved around the bar. You were often the one to get yours and Jimin’s drinks as luckily there was no language barrier for you to try and get past.

You’d learnt to dismiss him from the start until you felt his figure appear beside you on the next trip to the bar, standing uncomfortably close to you as you ordered two drinks for you both.

“It’s cute that you bring your friend to a bar like this,” he whispered into your ear, leaning across as far as he could whilst you leant away. “He doesn’t seem like much of a man though.”

Your head shook, biting down on your bottom lip to try and stop yourself from doing anything you’d regret. Your eyes were fearful to look back as you noticed that Jimin was lost in his phone, relieved that he wasn’t seeing what was happening.

“I see, you’re playing hard to get,” he added.

“I’m not playing anything with you,” you coldly replied, nudging against his arm so that you could stand back upright causing him to wobble to the left. His eyes raised at your behaviour, but your actions only seemed to encourage him to try again with you.

You were never one to cause a scene, and the last thing you wanted was for things to kick off for Jimin’s sake. He was wary at the best of times whilst exploring your hometown, he tried his best with his English and the many phrases that you’d taught him, but none of it ever felt like it was enough for him to get by.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to ignore?” He smiled across at you, “at least tell me your name.”

Your head shook, keeping your eyes forward to keep a distance between the two of you. As he moved forwards yet again and cleared his throat, it was enough for Jimin’s eyes to look up and notice that the guy was standing uncomfortably close to you.

You were unaware that he’d noticed until he’d appeared at your side, pushing the other guy out of the way. “Are you alright?” He questioned, not so much as looking at the guy, pretending as if he never existed.

“Of course,” you grinned, trying not to worry him. “The bartender is serving that couple and then he’ll be over to sort our drinks out love.”

The guy scoffed at your name for Jimin, looking past Jimin’s shoulder so that his eyes were on you. His hot breath tickled against Jimin’s neck, causing him to turn around and stand eye to eye with the guy that thought it was acceptable to flirt with you.

“She’s taken,” he informed him, glancing back at you for reassurance that he’d used the right phrase. “You. Leave,” he added, pointing in the direction of the exit door.

Yet, the guy didn’t move, not even a step. It almost felt as if he was looking down on Jimin, dismissing how hard he was working to use what he knew in order to protect you. You desperately wanted to step in, but you knew Jimin would never let you.

“Do you really think I’m going to listen to someone who can’t hold a conversation with me?” He sadistically chuckled. “Maybe it’s for the best if you just let us talk, because it doesn’t really feel like you can defend your friend.”

Jimin’s head shook, although he didn’t understand everything, there were plenty of words that he did pick up on, roughly piecing together what the guy had said. “She’s my girlfriend, not a friend,” he proudly told him.

“She’s dating you?”

“Yeah, she’s dating me, and not you. So, you can leave us now.”

“Maybe she hasn’t got as good a taste as I thought she did.”

You watched on as the guy spun on his feels, walking away from the two of you and back to his group of friends in one of the booths You could tell by the looks on their faces that he’d been set some sort of challenge with you, and ended up failing.

But as you looked back around for Jimin too, you noticed that he was no longer beside you, but back across at the table with his head in his hands, tears threatening to spill. You waved the bartender away as she came across to you, walking back across the table.

“I know that wasn’t nice for you.”

His head slowly looked up at his felt your presence beside you.

“Please don’t get upset,” you asked of him, carefully brushing his hair away from his face. Jimin’s head shook, dabbing underneath his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt. “That guy was just an idiot, don’t let him bother you, please.”

As much as he wanted to pretend that he was unphased, it definitely struck a chord with Jimin. Seeing how easily the guy was able to speak to you set his insecurities off into an all time high, it was something he could never do.

“He could talk,” Jimin whispered, “he knew how to talk…to you.”

“But you know how to talk to, that’s why we are as we are.”

“Not like him,” Jimin admitted, glancing back across at the guy. “He can talk like I can’t. He would give you a lot that I can’t give you Y/N.”

It broke your heart to listen to him speak so dejectedly, the language barrier had initially been something that the two of you had to work hard to get through, but you soon found yourselves in a comfortable routine that worked for you both.

But then another guy would somehow appear in the picture. The second that Jimin saw a guy who could do something better than him, his guard would go back up and the self-doubt would creep in. It was always the way for him.

Whilst you knew he had no reason to ever feel jealous of someone else, you knew that it wasn’t quite as easy for you to just tell him how he should feel. It was something that the two of you would always have to work through as a tram.

“I hate it,” he suddenly spoke up, “I want to be perfect for you.” You could tell how hard he was trying to put his sentences together as his brows furrowed together. “Do you think that I am the perfect one for you Y/N?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m sat here with you.”

“And not with him.”

Your head nodded, brushing your hand through his hair once again. “I would never want someone like that who makes other people feel so bad.”

“You want me?” He asked, yet again. Your head nodded back at him instantly, trying to comfort him as best as you could. “I didn’t like what he said to you,” he added, frowning across at you with a wide smirk.

“Neither did I, but luckily I had you there to protect me,” you grinned, “you definitely scared him off and made sure that he went away.”

You could still feel the guy’s eyes staring across at you from time to time, but there was no way you were going to give him the satisfaction of looking back anymore.

“Don’t ever feel jealous about another guy Jimin, some might be stronger, smarter, able to speak better, but that is not what I want. What I want is you. And that will never change. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“That you want me.”

“Exactly, you’re the only one that I want. No other guy, ever.”

---

Masterlist

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bishopclimate · 6 days ago

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Beloved, I must speak to you with urgency and truth—because the enemy has been working overtime in your life. Fear has been LYING to you. We have just concluded Day 4 of the 5-Day Destiny Boot Camp, and what was revealed today is something the enemy does NOT want you to hear: FEAR EXAGGERATES THE UNKNOWN. It magnifies your doubts. It makes your obstacles seem larger than they are. And worst of all? It convinces you to stay stuck in places God has already called you OUT of! THE TRUTH YOU NEED TO HEAR RIGHT NOW: The Children of Israel were SET FREE from Egypt, but they never made it to the Promised Land. Why? Because they believed the exaggerations of fear over the promises of God. "We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes..." (Numbers 13:33) They weren’t defeated by the giants—they were defeated by their own minds. And if you’re not careful, 2025 will come, and you’ll still be circling the same mountain because you believed the same lies. POWERFUL TESTIMONIES FROM DAY 4! YOURS IS NEXT! I’ve already seen supernatural shifts for those who chose FAITH over fear: Angela (USA): “I realized fear had exaggerated my problems. After sowing my seed and writing down my 12 areas of fear, I got clarity like never before. The opportunity I thought I lost came BACK within just 50 minutes —better than before!” Kwame (Ghana): “I had been afraid to start my business for years, thinking it was impossible. But today’s teaching broke that lie! I sowed my seed, and within HOURS, a friend connected me to an investor!” Lina (France): “I saw how fear had made my obstacles look bigger than they were. After sowing and praying, I had a breakthrough in a situation I thought was hopeless. God moved!” YOUR STORY IS NEXT. But you must act NOW. WHY DAY 4 WAS A WAKE-UP CALL (AND WHY YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO MISS WHAT’S NEXT!): Each day of this Destiny Boot Camp is tearing down the lies of fear and unlocking the promises of God over your life for 2025. DAY 1: What is the Fear of the Unknown? (Exposing the invisible chains that keep you stuck!) DAY 2: Breaking the Root of Fear! (Uprooting strongholds from childhood, past failures, and society!) DAY 3: The Cost of Staying in Fear! (Every second you waste in fear is costing you divine blessings!) DAY 4: How Fear Exaggerates the Unknown! (Unmasking the lies that have kept you bound and paralyzed!) DAY 5: Shifting from Fear to Faith! (Unlocking supernatural boldness and divine acceleration for 2025!) Each chapter is a key to your victory, and YOU NEED THIS BOOK to walk boldly into your destiny! 🔥 CALL TO ACTION: STEP INTO YOUR PROMISE TODAY! 1. FILL THE PRAYER AGREEMENT FORM Write down 12 areas where fear has exaggerated obstacles and kept you from moving forward. This isn’t just a list—it’s a declaration of WAR against the lies of fear. Submit this form as an act of surrender and trust in God’s promises. 2. SOW A SPECIAL SEED TO BREAK THE CHAINS OF FEAR TODAY, I challenge you to sow a special seed of £15, £25, or the best gift you can afford to declare your FAITH over fear and to support this life-changing broadcast. WHEN YOU SOW YOUR SEED OF £25 OR MORE, REQUEST YOUR FREE GIFT: “30 Days On Overcoming The Fear Of The Unknown” (EBook)—your personal guide to breaking the lies of fear and stepping into your divine purpose for 2025! WHAT YOUR SEED WILL UNLOCK: - Clarity and boldness in decision-making. - Supernatural confidence to face the unknown. - Divine opportunities and open doors in 2025. Whatsoever seed you sow to support our 5-Day Destiny Boot Camp online conference will unlock the harvest God has promised you. Your seed is NOT just a donation—it’s a KEY to unlocking your destiny in 2025! 3. STAY COMMITTED TO THE FAST Stay engaged daily with prayer, scripture, and teachings from this book. Breakthrough comes through persistence! And don’t keep this to yourself—invite friends and family to join this Boot Camp. Let’s break the chains of fear together! FINAL WARNING: FEAR HAS LIED TO YOU LONG ENOUGH. IT’S TIME TO FIGHT BACK! If you don’t act now, fear will keep exaggerating your problems until you believe they’re impossible to overcome. But I DECLARE—you are one decision away from your breakthrough. - FILL YOUR PRAYER AGREEMENT FORM - SOW YOUR SPECIAL SEED - STAY COMMITTED TO THE JOURNEY Your 2025 breakthrough is closer than you think. CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT YOUR PRAYER AGREEMENT FORM & SOW YOUR SEED DO NOT LET FEAR WIN. ACT NOW! With Fire & Power, Master Prophet Climate Bishop Climate Ministries Contact: [email protected] Call: +447424106147 P.S. The enemy wants you to delay—but you’ve waited long enough. Your time is NOW! Read the full article

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pi-creates · 3 years ago

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I hope people don’t mind – but I have a theory… one that’s been mulling around in my head for ages but didn’t really know if people would be interested in hearing it. I shared my thoughts with a few people and they seemed supportive of me sharing my theory further, so here we go.

Basically, I feel like something that the fandom deems as crucial to Violet’s character might actually be a misclassification. The short version of this post is that I theorise that Violet doesn’t have excessive abandonment issues (at least not to a significantly greater extent than any of the other characters), and what she is actually displaying is signs of survivor’s guilt.

From a behavioural view point, there’s a lot of overlap between both issues – withdrawing from others, fixating on other’s and their actions, being irrational at times as a defence mechanism, and applying unrealistic expectation on oneself and others. But the difference is the reasons behind those behaviours.

Someone with abandonment issues assumes that everyone will inevitably leave them. It leaves them insecure and assuming that they are somehow at fault for other’s leaving them. The thing is, this form of dependence on others tends to lead people to constantly be seeking approval, and they reel their neck in when they feel like someone is not going to agree with them. Basically, they become people pleasers who need constant reassurance that you aren’t planning on leaving them – but at the same time they keep things shallow, because they don’t feel like they can expose anything that the other person might leave them for. Then if things are on the rocks, they sabotage, if you push someone away before they reject you, then it doesn’t hurt as bad if they decide to leave. It’s a self-destructive cycle that centres around the person being anxious and not having trust in others to accept them as they are.

And while parts of that fits Violet, other parts don’t. I don’t feel like Violet comes across as insecure in what she offers to others or being afraid to have a contrary opinion. In fact, she seems quite confident in her skills and choices. There isn’t any hesitance to bring up tough questions or to speak her mind when she doesn’t like something. She takes on a leadership role and makes decisions that she knows the bulk of the group don’t agree with at that point. It doesn’t come across as someone who is afraid that those people she’s disagreeing with will leave her. Basically, I don’t feel like she acts out of fear that people will leave her – she does express not liking that people leave and believes that certain levels of loss are inevitable, but it feels like cynicism rather than fear.

A big example of this is her asking Clementine in the first card game “Out of all of us here, which one is going to die first?”… to me, that doesn’t read as someone afraid of loss, it reads as someone who views loss casually and also doesn’t feel compelled to sugar-coat the morbidity of such thoughts to a newcomer or old friends.

But if you look at something like survivor’s guilt – it has some similar behavioural patterns, but those behaviours stem more from guilt than fear. They survived a situation when others did not, and I don’t think there’s any denying that everyone who’s still alive in an apocalypse situation has outlived a friend/family member, and potentially also been there when they died. And those thoughts of “Why did I survive when they didn’t?”, “Could that have been different?”, and “Was it my fault?” eats away at them. They start picking apart every detail of an event and questioning if they were responsible, or if someone could have done something to prevent it.

It doesn’t matter if it’s logical or not, they fixate on the idea that they could somehow have changed the events if only they said/did something different, they should have known the outcome and stopped it. It’s irrational, it’s placing the blame on oneself or others for situations that they had no means to avoid or predict. And all of that guilt and stress makes the people irritable, withdrawn, and regretful. They get so stuck in that moment of loss that they don’t move forward. They lose interests they used to have, they feel disconnected, they don’t trust people or the world to be safe or fair, they pull away from others...

And I think this sounds like Violet. It makes more sense with how she talks about her grandmother and the twins – we hear how she processes these events. She tells us what she was doing when someone died (or she believed they died) and how she should have been doing something else – for her grandmother she should have called for help, for the twins she should have been there and not in the greenhouse. And since we hear more about the twins, she goes further and talks about how she also questions the actions made by others – she feels like she could have changed the outcome if she was there instead of Brody or Marlon. When in reality, she couldn’t have known, she can’t change what happened, and it wasn’t her fault that those people died (or were taken).

I feel Violet did lose herself to a degree in those fixations, that’s why she withdraws and seems apathetic about things until after we learn that Minnie is still alive. Some of that guilt is somewhat absolved when it becomes clear that Minnie isn’t dead, it opens up the possibility of fixing her perceived ‘wrongs’ of the past (e.g., out surviving her). She talks about not liking arts and crafts – but she makes you a pin. She suddenly wants to dance with you when we had no indication this was an interest of hers before. She sings a song that she clearly used to hold to high regard when Minnie sang it – though we never hear her sing or hear her talk about her own voice. She’s a different person once the guilty moment is re-framed as something she can fix. Those interests she lost before are suddenly back, or maybe she’s just more open to reevaluate things and move forward with new interests.

And I think this also explains part of Violet’s ire in the captured route – it’s not just that she feels like you chose someone over her, it’s a literal replay of the thing she felt guilty about for years. She’s in Minnie’s shoes, but this time the people at the school know she was taken and not killed at the school – they could have stopped it in the way she wished she could have done with the twins. Then Clem shows up, and she isn’t exhibiting the same crushing guilt that Violet carried for so long when this happened to her friends – and that has to hurt.

Not only does the situation suck, but she’s being confronted with someone who isn’t coping with the “loss” of an important friend in the same way she did. I feel like it would only be logical for Violet to wonder why, and she is also clearly not in a good frame of mind and will come up with some of the worst possible answers.

Is she not as important to the others as Minnie was to her? Is she not worth the same emotional devastation? Was she wrong to feel the way she felt, or is Clem wrong for not feeling that way now?

The situation may be different, but after dealing with the traumatic experience of being captured, seeing Minnie again, and being manipulated into behaving – I don’t think Violet can think clearly enough to realise the differences of the situation. Clem isn’t dealing with the same level of guilt because her method of coping with the tragedy is immediate action… an option that Violet never had. It has nothing to do with Violet not being worth the same devastation as the twins, though I bet it still feels that way to her. So not only does the perceived betrayal sting worse, she also is being told she has the option of protecting Minnie by going along with the Delta – it just feeds into her preexisting guilt that she didn’t save her before, so of course she’s going to act in a way that she believes will make up for it.

And yeah… that’s my theory. Whether you agree or not, I’d be interested in hearing other’s thoughts on this – especially when I’m very aware that the abandonment narrative is seen as near universal amongst the fans. It just happens to not have been my initial stance, and I dunno, maybe an alternate point of view will be interesting to you guys.

#twdg #twdg talk #twdg theory #twdg violet #this is a long one #and i apologise for that

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hualianff · 4 years ago

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Vampire/Human AU

(Slight NSFW, angst)

Thinking about vampire HC who owns a vampire-friendly bar with humans who apply as donors to supply fresh blood for vampires willing to pay the expensive prices. When a human with beautiful amber eyes, soft facial features, and blood that smells absolutely delectable, walks in, every vampire whips their heads towards the door. The human approaches one of the staff, YY, to inquire about becoming a donor. HC watches as the enticing morsel follows YY into a room to finalize his application.

Right after the human leaves thirty minutes later–YY probably having said it would take a few days to find him a match–HC pulls YY aside, demanding to have a look over the papers the new donor filled out. After a quick scan, HC shoves the papers back to YY with a click of his tongue,

“No need to find him a match. He’s mine.”

A human whose blood smells heavenly, who has never been bitten or even nipped by a vampire. HC wants to corrupt him. Ruin him.

The next night, HC has the human, XL, meet him in his personal feeding room. There’s a luxurious velvet couch to the side, a pristine glass table with fancy wine and glasses, and a king-sized bed with crimson silk laid upon the mattress.

HC, like most vampires, typically feeds while stimulating their donors. This can be done with something as simple as kissing or full-on intercourse. Not only does this relax the human’s nerves so they won’t tense up before being bitten, but the toxins injected into their system after being bitten feels incredibly euphoric, serving as a kind of aphrodisiac. Many humans donate their blood in this way for the sole reason of attaining this heightened sense of pleasure.

But as soon as XL enters the room in front of HC, his mind freezes as he sees the bed.

“I’m a virgin,” he blurts out, wide eyes panicked as he looks at the vampire. HC raises his eyebrow, unperturbed.

“We can work with that.”

XL gulps.

“I’ve also never kissed anyone.”

HC runs a tongue along his sharp fangs.

“Do you want to change that?” The vampire asks, walking up behind the human, pressing his chest against XL’s back. HC hears XL’s heart rate pick up at the proposition. It’s an unspoken yes, though XL also imperceptibly nods his head. He does not see HC’s lips spread into a vicious grin. However, XL does feel lips brush against the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Use your words, precious. Do you want to be kissed? Want to be touched, experience pleasure beyond comprehension?” HC murmurs, skimming his lips across XL’s nape. “I can fuck you too. Push into your little body as I sink my fangs into your neck. I’d place them right here-“ HC taps XL’s jugular, the human jerking to the side with a gasp. “-oh? So sensitive. All the better. I can make you feel so good.”

XL’s breath quickens, ever so slightly leaning back into HC’s tall frame. HC leans forward to catch a glimpse of those doe eyes regarding him with caution. Oh, how he wants to eat this human alive. HC turns XL around by his shoulders. He lowers his head to bump foreheads with XL, forcing the human to look into his red-tinged eyes.

“Is that a yes?”

XL blinks those doe eyes once, then twice.

“Yes.”

HC brings his hand up to brush a hair away from the human’s head.

“Wonderful.”

***

XL is at the point in his life when he lost everything. He chose to pursue a career outside of his parents’ embroidery business despite being expected to take over the shop after college. Abandoning college altogether, XL went off on his own to chase his dream to become a singer.

A few years later, where XL was provinces away from home, XL’s parents’ business had gone under, devastating them as they could no longer pay for their medical bills. Upon hearing the news, XL rushed back home to take care of them. It seemed they had kept their declining health conditions under wraps. They were too prideful to admit their weakening physical states; they also did not want to guilt XL into giving up on his ambitions to take care of them.

XL’s parents lasted one year before passing away, his father first due to prostate cancer, his mother one month later after succumbing to exhaustion and grief. XL lost their home along with the shop merely a week later, unable to pay off the debt. His parents had used up their savings for their medical expenses and XL had been scraping by as a musician for years. Additionally, there was no one he could confide in. He had lost contact with his friends as he moved from city to city, busking on streets, attempting to catch the attention of music labels.

XL was utterly alone. There were days when not even music could bring an ounce of comfort. However, music was the thing that kept him sane between the various side jobs he managed to pick up to keep him off the streets.

As if the fates decided XL had had enough bad luck for a lifetime, a CEO of a fairly well-known label offered him a business card after a busking session. It was JW of Capital Records who gave XL hope of achieving his dream. XL spent most of his late 20s under the label, training and practicing and producing. He had the chance to record a couple of singles and one mini-album–which he didn’t get to participate much in the production side–but other than that, XL didn’t make it far. He was tremendously overworked and yet, still discarded to the side.

Wondering why he wasn’t provided the opportunities other artists received to further their careers, XL scheduled a one-on-one meeting with the CEO to ask what he was lacking. JW had insisted he could give XL more opportunities if XL could offer something more than just his serene vocals and pretty face.

The unspoken suggestion that XL offer up his body pierced his heart with yet another stake. Overwhelming disappointment and betrayal crashed into XL, but perhaps he should have known better that the whole situation was too good to be true. XL vehemently rejected this idea, angering JW who eventually tore XL down to the point of a medical emergency that allowed him to leave the agency without repercussions.

At age thirty-two, XL was left with no family, mental and physical trauma, and a dying will. Ironically enough, the song lyrics he’d written after experiencing so much loss were the closest thing to making music he’d gotten. But in the end, XL still felt like a failure.

Now in Xi’an, XL was left with limited options to earn money for rent. He already worked two part-time jobs in addition to writing music—though even time set aside for this has dwindled.

One night, as XL was walking home after closing up the convenience store, he saw the neon lights of the sign “Ghost City.” He’s heard many things about this club and is no stranger to the existence of nonhuman creatures roaming amongst human society. After hours of research, XL decided to apply to become a blood donor. It’s not like he had a better option that paid more anyway.

XL’s hope to somehow redeem his past actions has all but fizzled out. He doesn’t expect a vampire like HC to care about his comfort or consent when feeding, though HC still prioritizes these things for some reason.

XL has never looked at his body and thought about the best ways to pleasure himself. HC shows him how. HC caresses and kisses XL like he’s worth being handled with care; HC also invades XL’s body as a threat to break it, broadcasting a vampire’s strength, speed, and endurance in the bedroom.

XL can go as far as to say he even looks forward to his time with HC. In between a busy work life and dealing with people who would rather look the other way than give him the time of day, XL’s mind and body steadily weaken.

It starts with memory loss, where XL can’t clearly remember the conversations he’d had the day before. One of the reasons this develops is because he goes through many days without having anyone to tell about his day. It’s like the life XL lives is so insignificant, nothing about it is worth remembering.

Then, it’s the lack of eating. Most of XL’s money goes towards rent, essentials, and groceries. But he’s not a great cook. And he’s already drained by the time he gets home after working both jobs and visiting Ghost City. XL’s stress doesn’t help, adding to the fatigue that gradually shuts his body down.

While HC might not be able to taste a difference in XL’s blood, he does notice how frail the human moves around. How delayed XL responds, more so than he should be–even as a human. XL has scheduled more visits: three times a week this time. However, his words become less. He stops telling the little stories that brought a small smile to his face. XL doesn’t even mention the songs he’s been working on lately.

HC forces himself to ask about them after an especially rough coupling.

“How’s the songwriting going, darling?” HC asks quietly. He props his elbow upon his pillow, resting his cheek on his hand as he intently observes the human struggling to catch his breath, eyelids fluttering.

“I haven’t written anything new,” XL breathily answers. HC purses his lips. He ducks down to affectionately tongue at the skin his fangs pierced.

“No? In how long?” HC asks. XL sighs heavily.

“Maybe three weeks.”

HC doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not one to console anybody. No one had afforded him that luxury, and naturally, he did not grant anyone else his concern. The silence that follows is unbearable.

***

The next time XL visits, he’s the one to initiate their first kiss. HC growls happily against his human’s lips, pinning him against the closed door of his private room. XL moans obscenely as HC languidly licks into his mouth. His arms desperately wrap around HC’s neck to bring him closer.

“Someone’s eager,” HC says with a chuckle as he pulls back. XL instantly attaches his lips to the vampire’s jaw, peppering light kisses along the pale skin. HC can’t help but think he’s taught his little human well. XL hums while trailing his lips back to HC’s, capturing them in a kiss that’s the sweetest one yet.

HC should’ve noticed how unstable XL’s legs seemed, how dreadful the bags under his eyes looked before indulging in their bedroom activities. He should’ve kept track all along of how thin XL is, how much more skin and bone he had become. HC is certainly not one to intrude on someone else’s life and scrutinize all their choices. But he should’ve said something sooner.

Maybe then, XL’s heart wouldn’t have stuttered so violently, or completely stopped beating for five counts.

HC watches in horror as XL’s eyes roll into the back of his head. His human’s body goes limp in his arms, collapsing into HC’s chest. When XL’s heart beat starts up again, it’s very weak. There’s a noticeable abnormality in its rhythm.

HC quickly gathers XL in his arms and speeds to the bed. He sits back against the pillow, placing XL to recline against his front. HC hooks his arms around XL’s middle from behind, anxiously listening to XL’s irregular heartbeat that seems like it takes all of his human’s energy to pump. Luckily, XL awakens a few minutes later. He registers a cold embrace and warm puffs of breath lingering near his ear.

“Did I pass out?” XL wheezes out, unconsciously melting into the body behind him.

“Yes,” HC says tightly. “Your heartbeat is uneven. Something is wrong.”

XL can’t tell if he’s imagining it but that sounded like worry in the vampire’s tone.

“Oh.”

HC inhales sharply.

“You just fainted, Xie Lian. Hell, your heart just stopped for a few seconds, and all you have to say is ‘oh?’” HC grinds out.

So he is upset. XL swallows thickly, not wanting to escalate things and further upset the vampire.

“It’s okay,” XL says. “I’m okay-“

“No. You’re not,” HC interrupts.

XL takes a deep breath, wincing slightly as HC tightens his arms around his hips. He’s more sensitive than normal, XL realizes. Before XL can defend himself further, HC grasps XL’s chin and turns his head to face the vampire.

“You’re hiding something from me,” he states. He hears XL’s heart speed up. “There’s no use in lying. I can tell you’ve grown weaker since you first came.”

“Well, I have been donating my blood to a certain vampire for a few months now. I’m bound to be a bit weak in my legs,” XL replies as a matter of factly. He means to poke fun at the situation rather than acknowledge the severity of it. HC knows this because he’s done it numerous times himself. But when XL does it, it makes HC’s blood boil.

“Are you saying I am causing this- this deterioration in your health?” HC asks tensely. XL lets out a gasp, whirling around in HC’s arms, immediately backpedaling.

“No! No, not at all.”

HC’s eyes assess his human who trembles slightly in his arms. He cradles XL in between his legs, hands shifting XL further up his body so he can rest his head on HC’s chest. HC gently pets XL’s hair, an action that was uncharacteristic of him months ago, before XL had walked through the entrance of his bar.

XL gently smiles in an attempt to placate the vampire.

HC’s eyes flash a frightening scarlet.

“I don’t believe you.”

XL’s face crumples.

“It’s true! I’ve just been really busy is all. Work has been hectic and- and-“ gone is the innocence that HC once saw in XL’s doe eyes, instead replaced by stress and utter brokenness that alarms the vampire to no end. A voice in the back of HC’s head snarls that those emotions had always been behind XL’s eyes; they were simply better hidden, and HC had been too lust-driven to notice.

XL continues his rambling, frantically shaking his head. “-I took some extra shifts because I needed the money to pay for some water damage that flooded half my apartment. I’m fine—truly.“

If HC had a beating heart, it would have dropped down to his stomach at the sudden realization. His fingers dig into the paper-thin skin of XL’s hips, then trace up the bony knobs of his spine.

“You’re not eating right.”

“Wait- S-san Lang-“

The nickname HC had asked XL to call him is hurdled back into his face like a stone aimed to shatter. It sounds like a cry for help.

“And you’re not getting enough sleep,” HC concludes with a disapproving frown. His eyes now glow a deep crimson, matching the silken sheets that HC ensures are in perfect condition every time XL visits.

“Fuck, XIE LIAN, you know you need proper nutrition and rest to recover from each night you spend with me!” HC is nearly shouting now, voice wavering out of his control. Who knew another creature could make him feel so strongly?

“I-I am!”

“I SAID NOT TO LIE TO ME. I CAN TELL WHEN YOU’RE NOT BEING HONEST,” HC explodes, spatting those words with a poison that he often uses with uncooperative subordinates, but never directed at XL before.

Tears glisten in XL’s eyes as he’s cornered with no way out, no relief from the building pressure that suffocates him. Right now, after everything XL has been through, this seems to be his tipping point. He never expected HC to care this much. Or perhaps HC is just concerned his reliable supply of blood is flaking out on him, just when he’s had a feasible taste.

XL is sure HC has plenty of other donors to feed on. It’s not like XL is particularly special in that way. Frankly speaking, XL had time and time again asked the universe to give him one last sign that his life mattered in some capacity. But if he couldn’t see the value in his own life, who else could?

XL scrambles off from HC’s lap, allowing himself to speak with the deep-seated spite that has grown in his heart like an untamable weed.

“THERE’S NO NEED TO GET SO WORKED UP OVER MY HEALTH!! I’LL BE GONE SOON ANYWAY! THE DOCTOR GAVE ME THREE MORE MONTHS,” XL screams, having to catch his breath after exerting so much power into his voice. “So there. You have my answer. I’m not lying this time. Just one a couple more months and then- then you won’t have to deal with my shit anymore, okay?”

HC can’t move. He can’t speak either. The shock taking over his system renders his mind and body completely useless. He can only stare blankly at XL whose tears now cascade down his cheeks.

No, this cannot be happening-

XL’s whimpers pull HC out of his head. The human hugs his own frail body, shivering from a coldness that does not exist in the room.

How did HC let it get so bad?

“I’m sick, San Lang. Very, very sick. Not just physically,” XL whispers defeatedly, letting out a small hiccup.

HC doesn’t hesitate to surge forward to throw his arms around XL, hugging him once more. It’s a habit now—to hold XL whenever he could. Now, HC wonders how many more times he would get this chance before it was inevitably the last.

“Xie Lian…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I-I just can’t eat. Sometimes from stress, other times I completely forget. And I want to rest, but I end up laying in bed awake for hours a-and my mind just won’t let me sleep-”

For the first time in over a decade, there is someone else to hear XL’s agonized wails.

“Please believe me, San Lang. Please."

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #hualian au #cerdrabbles #xie lian #hua cheng #human xie lian #vampire hua cheng #sorry it's rushed

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago

Text

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.”

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference.

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother.

So why was that feeling still there?

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in.

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George.

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear.

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs.

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes.

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?”

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.”

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George.

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.”

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.”

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.”

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty.

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck.

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half.

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him.

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride.

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother.

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?”

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong?

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal.

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused.

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor.

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband.

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?”

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around.

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet.

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this.

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?”

—

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees.

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car.

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.”

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.”

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands.

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat.

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him.

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly.

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her.

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye.

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again.

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him.

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt.

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there.

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away.

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more.

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.”

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.”

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle.

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit.

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you.

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin.

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone.

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could.

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident.

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?”

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin.

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary.

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling.

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.”

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?”

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N // so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley

#NASCAR Series #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred and george #gred and forge #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x oc #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut

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todomitoukei · 4 years ago

Text

English vs. Japanese Shouto - A 298 Comparison

Welcome back to another comparison between the Japanese version and the official English translation. This chapter has caused a lot of confusion as soon as the spoilers came out, particularly in regards to the last line in Shouto’s monologue. Does he want to kill Dabi? Is he going to fight him?

Aside from the confusion, this chapter is important for both Shouto’s character, as well as his and Dabi’s storyline, moving forward.

The scene starts with a panel of Shouto in his hospital bed, surrounded by his classmates who by now are also aware of the situation. As we find out at the end of the chapter, Shouto’s throat is burned, so he currently can’t talk. Regardless, he has a lot to say or rather a lot to reflect on, starting with an obvious fact:

“His flames are stronger than dad’s.”

An obvious fact and a simple sentence. But what about the original?

「あいつの炎は親父よりも強かった。」

「あいつ ; aitsu 」-> he; that guy

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「炎 ; honou 」-> flame

「は ; ha 」-> topic marker particle

「親父 ; oyaji 」-> dad

「よりも ; yori mo 」-> in comparison to; more than

「強かった ; tsuyokatta 」-> was strong

= “His flames were stronger than dad’s.”

The difference here is the tense. While the original text has Shouto say that the flames “were” stronger, the English translation has him say they “are” stronger. It’s not really an important difference, but I think the past tense was him reflecting on the one fact he knew about Touya before all this. The first time we, the readers, heard about Touya in chapter 202 -

was during Shouto’s early training days, where Endeavor brought up Touya and the fact that “his fire was greater” - so this is a fact Shouto was raised with, someone he was essentially compared to. Touya set the bar high, but Endeavor expected Shouto to raise the bar even higher.

“I couldn’t win with firepower alone. So strong… Those flames full of hate.”

While Shouto had so far only been told about Touya’s strength, this is the first time he got to actually experience this himself. Now, Touya’s flames being stronger isn’t just something Endeavor said, but something Shouto knows.

「火力で勝てなかった強い。。。憎しみの炎だった。」

「火力 ; karyoku」-> firepower

「で ; de 」-> with

「勝てなかった ; katenakatta 」-> couldn’t win

「強い ; tsuyoi 」-> strong

「憎しみ ; nikushimi 」-> hatred

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「炎 ; honou 」-> flame

「だった ; datta 」-> was

= “I couldn’t win with firepower. Strong… it was a flame of strong hatred.”

Again, not a big difference, especially since the English translation made sure to split the text the same way as the original, but tsuyoi (strong) is an adjective that attaches to the noun, nikushimi (hatred). Sure, his flames are strong, but more importantly, his hatred is strong and that is the bigger problem here.

Not only does Dabi have a stronger flame, but his hatred grants him even more power as he’s not held back by any rational thought or feeling. Like a forest fire, you can’t just extinguish it. Instead, it keeps spreading and growing larger and larger.

“And he’s… been watching us all this time.”

Next, we get the flashback to the first time Shouto met Dabi back in the summer arc. Maybe Dabi’s “How sad, poor little Shouto Todoroki” didn’t mean that much to Shouto - who might have just assumed that Dabi knew his name from the sports festival - but now he understands that this had been planned for a long time. Touya “died” around ten years ago and during all that time, Dabi had been thinking about this moment.

「あいつはずっと見てたんだ。」

「あいつ ; aitsu 」-> he; that guy

「は ; ha 」-> topic marker particle

「ずっと ; zutto 」-> continuously; the whole time

「見てた ; miteta 」-> was watching

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

= “He was watching the whole time.”

Again, not much of a difference except for the tense. Another thing that this is implying is that Dabi is incredibly patient. Instead of just being filled with rage and letting it out all, he waited in the shadows for years, even when being so close to Shouto he chose to keep his composure, even though he could’ve just killed him right then and there if he had wanted to.

Something that got lost in translation is the nuance of the nda at the end of the sentence, which can have multiple meanings. Here, it expresses reason and discovery, as Shouto understands his first encounter with Dabi now. Sort of like saying “Oh, so that’s why he knew my name. That’s what he has been up to the entire time.”

“All… to bring down dad. Wrecking his own body along the way… and not giving a damn whose lives get ruined in the process.”

「親父を貶めるためだけにその身を滅ぼしながらあらゆる人の人生を巻き込んで。」

「親父 ; oyaji 」-> dad

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「貶める ; otoshimeru 」-> to look down upon; to cause to fall

「ため ; tame 」-> purpose

「だけに ; dake ni 」-> being the case; precisely

「その ; sono 」-> that

「身 ; mi 」-> body; oneself

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「滅ぼしながら ; horoboshi nagara 」-> while destroying

「あらゆる人 ; ara yuru hito 」-> all kinds of people

「の ; no 」-> possessive particle; similar to an apostrophe

「人生 ; jinsei 」-> human life

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「巻き込んで ; makikonde 」-> involving; dragging into

= “For the purpose of causing dad’s downfall, he destroyed his body at the same time and dragged other lives into it.”

I find the additional “not giving a damn” in the official translation interesting (= I hate it)… since he literally doesn’t say that, but sure let’s just add this to make it seem like Shouto is judging Dabi here when he is not doing that at all. This is merely an observation, stating the fact that his older brother’s mind was so clouded by hatred that he involved other people’s lives in their family business. This isn’t to say that Shouto doesn’t see this as wrong, but it’s not the point and not something he is focusing on. He’s connecting the dots, making sense of the situation, and understanding the reasons that led to Dabi’s crimes rather than just stating the obvious of “this is wrong.”

On to one of my favorite lines this chapter: “He’s basically... me.”

「あいつは俺だ。」

「あいつ ; aitsu 」-> he; that guy

「は ; ha 」-> topic marker particle

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「だ ; da 」-> be

= “That guy is me.”

So, I’m not sure why the “basically” was added in the official English translation since Shouto doesn’t say it like that. He just says “Touya = me.” It’s a fact. Obviously, Shouto isn’t actually Touya, but the “basically” isn’t needed unless you suddenly think that maybe Shouto hass two separate bodies at once somehow. This might be nitpicking, and there have definitely been bigger changes before, but to me the “basically” distances the two, even though the sentence is supposed to show that they are the same. Yes, one is on the hero side and the other on the villain side. Of course there are differences. But again, it’s not about the crimes Dabi has committed or how these two brothers differ. It’s about what’s going on in their minds, what feelings control their every action. They come from the same place, physically and mentally. The way they reacted to their pain is the same, with the big difference being what Shouto points out next:

“I was also burning with rage… up until that day.”

That day, as the panel shows, being the sports festival, the day Shouto began to see clearly. But Dabi didn’t have a moment like that (yet) and so he continues going down that path, while Shouto managed to leave that mindset.

「あの日までの俺がこの身を焼いたんだ。」

「あの ; ano 」-> that

「日 ; hi 」-> day

「まで ; made 」-> until

「の ; no 」-> nominalizes the preceding phrase

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「この ; kono 」-> this

「身 ; mi 」-> body; oneself

「を ; o 」-> direct object marker

「焼いた ; yaita 」-> was burning

「んだ ; nda 」-> explanatory particle

= “Until that day, I burned this body.”

As mentioned earlier, the nda is an explanatory particle. Here, it again expresses discovery. Shouto draws a conclusion here: Just like he used to burn his body, Dabi is still doing the same to his.

Again, his focus is not on Dabi, the villain, but Touya, his older brother, and someone just like Shouto. While other people might just see a mentally unstable criminal, Shouto sees how self-destructive Dabi is. And because Shouto hadn’t realized how clouded his mind was, he understands that Dabi most likely doesn’t quite realize this either. Dabi ignores his own pain, all in order to destroy Endeavor. A cry for help that others aren’t capable of comprehending.

“Dad can’t do it…”

「親父じゃやれねェ。。。」

「親父 ; oyaji 」-> dad

「じゃ ; jya 」-> casual particle

「やれねェ ; yarenee 」-> can’t do

= “Dad can’t do it.”

[EDIT because this part originally had a different explanation: As pointed out by this anon here, the jya in this case is a casual particle to mark the topic/subject, and the nee part is the casual form of nai, which negates the verb. The translation is the same but the explanation is different!]

And now, for the last line:

“I have to be the one… to handle… my brother Touya.”

Handle him…

「燈矢兄は俺がやらなきゃ。」

「燈矢 ; touya 」-> Touya

「兄 ; nii 」-> suffix for older brother

「は ; ha 」-> topic marker particle

「俺 ; ore 」-> I

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「やらなきゃ ; yaranakya 」-> must do it

= “I am the one that has to take care of Touya-Nii.”

So this is the line that caused confusion and panic, due to the yaranakya part. As you can see by the meaning of the word, similar to how “must do it” can have multiple meanings in English, the same logic applies to the Japanese word. It’s also important to note that the word here consists of the two parts yaru (to do) and nakya (must do). Nakya not only expresses that you have to do something, but, in this case, also shows determination. Shouto really has to do it and will do it. But do what exactly? Again, the problem with yaru is that its meaning depends on context, but sometimes context itself isn’t super helpful. One of the definitions of yaru is “to kill” and that might be what some people think it means here? But context tells us that this makes zero sense. Why show how much he understands his brother only to turn around and decide “well, I got help but he hasn’t so I’m just gonna have to kill him, I guess” - no.

More importantly, right before this line, he says “dad can’t do it” - what can’t he do? If we were talking about killing him, then why would Shouto be able to do it and not Endeavor? Of course, there are the... funny people who suggested that only Shouto can fight/kill his brother because unlike him, Endeavor has an emotional attachment to Dabi (I’m just not gonna comment on this). Anyway, to answer the question of what Endeavor can’t do but Shouto can, we have to look at what Shouto said before that, which is talking about him also having burned his body until the sports festival. This is the key moment where Shouto’s and Dabi’s similarities end and only because someone was reaching out to Shouto. So obviously, in order to have Dabi stop being self-destructive and fueled by hatred, someone needs to reach out to Dabi. And that’s the thing that Endeavor can’t do. After all, Endeavor is the root cause of this, which in turn brings this scene to a full circle since right before Shouto’s monologue began, we got this flashback to what Starservant said in chapter 244:

“That one is the root cause,” accompanied by a panel showing Endeavor.

For reference, here’s the Japanese counterpart:

「其奴こそが元凶じゃ！！」

「其奴 ; soyatsu 」-> that guy

「こそ ; koso 」-> for sure (emphasizes preceding word)

「が ; ga 」-> subject marker particle

「元凶 ; genkyou 」-> culprit; main source

「じゃ ; jya 」-> sentence ender often used for old people in fiction

= “That guy is definitely the main source!”

Shouto remembering this is just stating an obvious fact that he hadn’t fully understood before: Dabi’s existence is Endeavor’s fault. His actions drove Touya to become Dabi, someone whose sole purpose for existing is to destroy Endeavor. So Endeavor couldn’t possibly save him. No matter what Endeavor would say or do, it would be meaningless. But Shouto is different because Shouto was Dabi. The big obstacle Shouto has to figure out how to overcome is making his big brother understand this, too. Regardless, Shouto is the only one that can reach out to him and the only one that fully understands him.

Another important to point out with this line, and many others have already talked about this, is that Shouto now refers to Dabi as Touya-Nii, whereas on the battlefield a few days prior, Shouto only called him Touya, without the “nii”. He is now actively acknowledging that this is, in fact, his big brother. He isn’t Dabi, the villain. And he isn’t just Touya, either - some abstract idea; someone Shouto has heard of but never met or talked to (not confirmed, but likely). This is now his big bro, just like Natsuo is, and just like Fuyumi is his big sister. They’re family.

Overall, this chapter was actually pretty accurate in terms of translation; though granted, Shouto isn’t a villain so the bias isn’t there… but anyway, this marks a very important turning point in the story and gives us a rough idea of what’s in store for Shouto from here on out.

He recognizes where Dabi is coming from. He doesn’t just see him as a villain, but rather someone who has been so full of hatred - for good reasons - that he ended up dragging innocent people into this. The focus, though, is entirely on that one fact: “That guy is me.”

Shouto understands that he could have turned out the same way, he understands hurting his own body just to spite his father.

The key concern with this chapter was that Shouto said that he’s going to kill Touya. I have no idea who started this rumor, but as mentioned, there is a possible confusion regarding yaru, which has multiple meanings. But although he doesn’t explicitly say “I will save him” it’s obvious from everything else he says during this chapter. If he recognizes that they’re the same, his conclusion won’t be “I have to kill him.” Especially when taking into consideration the fact that Shouto also pointed out that he couldn’t win against Dabi with his fire. And no, that doesn’t mean he can beat him with his ice or that that’s what he intends on doing. It’s not clear what he will be doing exactly, but that is partially due to the fact that Shouto is currently not in a state where he could possibly figure out the answer, either.

But he has a goal: saving Touya-Nii - not so much from Endeavor, but from Dabi.

Next week’s chapter will hopefully focus on the Todofam conversation about to take place and will maybe give us some more hints as to what to expect. So far, though, it’s very obvious that Shouto will try to reach out to Dabi and save him, much like he was also saved from his hatred during the sports festival. He might not have a relationship with Touya the way he has started to build one with Natsuo and Fuyumi, but they have a much deeper connection because they are the same person.

#298 #translation #shouto #dabi #todoroki #touya #bnha #meta

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

It's Who We Are Underneath That Defines Us

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Slight Angst

Author's Note: Really gotta make the story where the Batfamily learns she and GL are dating. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

“Hey babe?”

She hummed absentmindedly, her eyes still trained to the stars above. “Yeah, Kyle?” Fingers twitched against her palm, then laced with her own; a heartbeat pounded against her skin, like a pulsing speaker, causing her to look over at him. “Is everything alright?”

Evergreen eyes met hers and he murmured, “Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren’t a superhero?”

She blinked, the question giving her a slight pause. Leaning closer, she propped her chin in his shoulder and teased, “Thinking about how you could’ve had an apple pie and picket fence life, Kyle?”

A grin crossed his lips and he glanced over at her. “To be honest with you, (Y/N), I’m more of a cherry pie kinda man.” His gaze dropped, and his eyes roamed her body. “Blame Warrant on that one.” She rolled her eyes, but the laugh she gave him showed her amusement. Kyle paused, his gaze searching her face. “But back to my original question...what do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t a vigilante?”

(Y/N) inhaled deeply, rolling away from his shoulder and laid on her back, her eyes scanning the immense field of stars above them. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve never really given it much thought.” Raising her hand, she traced the scars across her expanse of her arm with her eyes. “I’ve been training to be a vigilante since I was ten years old...helping people is all I’ve ever really wanted to do with life.”

She looked back over at him. “But since you asked, if I wasn’t a vigilante, I’d probably be a stuck-up rich bitch who overcharges her dad’s credit cards and throws hissy fits when she gets told no.” Kyle snorted, and she giggled.

After a moment of silence, he looked to her and asked, “Would you ever change anything you’ve done?”

The question he’d given her had been one she’s asked herself so many times. What if’s rising to the tongue of a girl too afraid to choose a path other than that of the least resistance, but ultimately keeping them contained and taking the hardest ones anyway. (Y/N) bit her lip slightly, the memories of every mistake, every wrong choice, flashing behind her eyes like lightning in a storm. The fingers laced though hers squeezed gently, dragging her from them, and she glanced back over, her eyes tracing the wisps of hair at his temples that had fallen from the gel he’d put in it earlier.

She blinked, then gave him a smile, her voice soft as she replied, “No...I don’t think I would change a single thing.”

Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he questioned, “Why not? Hasn’t there been a time where you’ve screwed up monumentally and couldn’t change it?”

(Y/N) watched him carefully, the words toying with the tip of her tongue as she asked calmly, “Are you talking about what happened to Alex?”

His face momentarily darkened, a mixture of anger, hate, and self-loathing, then it fell, and she saw the pain and regret in his eyes and heard it in his voice as he muttered, “I’m talking about everything that I’ve done wrong.” He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, the heel of his tennis shoes scraping against the brick of the roof. He let out a heavy sigh, causing her heart to tighten, and she rose beside him, curling her arm through his.

They stared at the city across the water, then she murmured, “When I was sixteen, I accidentally shoved someone over a support beam during a fight.” He eyed her, silently wondering what had happened and just what the hell this had to do with his issues. “Didn't mean to, of course. But he grabbed me from behind, and I did what I'd been trained to do—react. I freed myself and made the distance between us. But I misjudged the force of my kick and he tumbled over and down about a hundred feet onto concrete.”

She paused, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “When my family and friends saw what I’d done, even if it were an accident, a lot of them decided to keep me at an arm's length. ‘She might kill again’, they said, ‘If she’s killed once, she’ll do it again...there’s no way we can trust her anymore.’ Eventually, I stopped patrolling with the Titans and Teen Titans. Hell, I even stopped helping the Justice League. I did my own thing by myself because no one trusted me anymore. ‘Til this day, there are some people within the superhero community who shun me and don’t trust me. And at every meeting, somehow, someway, it's always brought up.”

(Y/N) looked over at him, squeezing his hand again. “Wherever I go, whatever I do, that follows me. It’s never going to be let go, and it’s certainly never going to be forgotten. However, despite those problems and feelings, and what occurred in the past, that accident doesn't define meor my actions. Yes, I unintentionally took someone’s life, but I’m not a murderer. I carry that burden with me, and I always will and while I can't change what happened, it drives me to make sure that I don't make the same mistake again.”

She let go of his hand, slipping her legs on either side of his body, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks; she caressed his cheekbones with her thumbs, staring into his eyes, and mustered the sincerest voice she could. “Kyle, what you’ve gone through, the people you’ve lost, the people you’ve saved, and the friends you’ve gathered along the way? That’s not who you are...it’s what you do with it that defines who you are.” His eyes widened slightly, and his lips parted to speak, but no words fell from them.

(Y/N) gave him a warm smile and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his forehead; she pulled back and murmured, “It may not mean much, but I'm proud of you, Kyle. You make me proud every single day.” She watched him exhale shakily, and she swore she could see the damn inside him breaking as he lowered his head, his arms reaching to pull her against him.

She shifted, perching in his lap, and let him bury his face in her neck. Kyle let out a breath, but it felt more like a soft sob, and heat blossomed against her skin where his lips touched.

He let out a sound, crossing between a groan and grunt as he told her, “I love you, (Y/N).”

She hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his temple. “I love you too, Kyle.”

They stayed that way for a few minutes, simply holding the other. Providing the anchors needed to keep their spirits alive. Eventually, (Y/N) pulled back and dragged his face away from her neck, huffing a laugh when he whined lowly from the loss of contact.

She reached up and wiped his face. “You look like a kid who was told no to ice-cream before dinner.”

Kyle let out a chuckle, moving her hands away and rubbing at his face vigorously. She climbed out of his lap and sat beside him once more, and he looked over at her wondering, “How do you manage to stay so positive outside the mask? To be the same person in costume and out?”

(Y/N) went silent, thinking for a moment, then she said, “A few years ago, I asked my dad the same thing, and he told me, ‘It doesn't matter who we are underneath the costume or out in the real world...it’s what we do in or out that defines us. If the person you claim to be isn’t the same person inside and outside of uniform, you don’t need to be wearing it.’” She glanced back over at him, nudging him in the ribs. “Don't worry about it though, you’re still a dork inside and out of G.L.”

Kyle let out an amused scoff, placing a hand against his chest. “I can't believe you would insult your boyfriend like that. A dork? I’m hurt.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, looking back at the city. “Kyle, you doodle in the middle of J.L. meetings, and it’s usually caricatures of my dad strangling Hal, the Joker, Jason, or Dick…typically it depends on what’s going on during the meetings and who’s been a pain in his ass for it.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but shut it, then raised a pointer finger at her. “Alright, you have me there.”

(Y/N) looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Of course I have you there, Dork Lantern...” She gave him a grin, wiggling her eyebrows and quipped, “I sit and doodle with you.” The two of them laughed, and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh. “I could stay with you here forever.”

Kyle nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Me too.”

A moment of silence passed them, and as they were enjoying it, a voice called out, “Oi! Kyle! Queenie! Are you guys up there!”

She let out a groan, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “So help me God, I can’t enjoy anything without dumb and dumber sticking their noses into it.”

Kyle looked over at her, his eyebrows furrowing as he pointed out, “But there’s only one?”

(Y/N) raised a hand in a ‘wait’ motion, then she waved it and, “Of course they’re up there Little-wing. The roof is where all the teens go to make out.”

Her eye twitched, and she leaned over the ledge, shouting, “The only person who’s made out on the roof is you, Dick. And it was with Kori after you guys broke up...AGAIN.”

A scoff sounded below followed by, “Hit me where it hurts why don't you!” She rolled her eyes, huffing, then he asked, “Is Kyle up there with you?”

“And what’s it to you?”

“Just wanted to make sure you guys are acting appropriate.”

“Dick...I am older than you. Kyle and I are both older than you.”

“So?”

(Y/N) turned to Kyle and mouthed, ‘Wanna get out of here?’ He flashed her a grin, then a strike of green blinded her, and he stood before her in his Green Lantern suit. He held out his hand. A beam of green light surrounded them, and a moment later, (Y/N) felt herself drop into a seat. She looked around, a grin appearing on her lips as she ran her hand along the dash of the constructed car.

“Kyle, are you trying to woo me with my love of nice cars?”

He matched her grin, laying his unoccupied arm across the seats. “I don't know...is it working?”

She nodded, sliding over into his side. “Yes. It is.” He chuckled, and they started moving, leaving her two brothers yelling for them.

“Kyle! Are you letting (Y/N) ride in the Green Machine?! You never let me do that!”

“(Y/N)’s my girlfriend, Jason!”

“I’M YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND! WHAT EVEN!”

She leaned across Kyle, glaring at Dick and Jason. “Go do something productive with your time, losers.”

“I am hurt, Jellybean! I thought you loved me!”

“Only when I can get something out of it!” (Y/N) glanced at Kyle and grinned. “Hit the gas G.L. Don't let ‘em catch the taillights.” He smirked, and they waved as they left Wayne Manor behind them.

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