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pure-garbage · 10 months ago

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Corrin Strikes! The Mark That Never Fades

Chapter Warnings: Violence

By the time the ship docked at a harbor safe enough for Lana to consider disembarking, she had abandoned any thought of parting with the straw hats. Luffy charmed her, Sanji swooned over her, Usopp proved even more hilarious than his captain. Nami and Zoro were still less than warm at times, but Lana didn't mind. Every day she spent free to do as she pleased was a day she couldn't find cause to complain.

For the first time, Lana realized she'd spent the last five years thinking of nothing past escaping Corrin. She didn't want to go back home. She wasn't ready to face the family she'd run away from and even if she was, the journey back was hardly an easy one. She had absolutely no idea what she wanted her newly secured future to look like. When she considered the manifold obstacles confronting her, it felt like the easiest path forward was also the best.

'You'll always be a criminal now, no matter what you do. May as well commit to it.'

The advice she'd grudgingly accepted from Zoro turned out to be, perhaps, the most influential thing anyone had ever told her.

"Well, guess this is good-bye."

Luffy's grin as they moored at the small port was exactly what Lana had come to expect from him.

"Actually, I decided to take you up on your offer. Assuming it still stands."

"Yeah? You're gonna join my crew?"

"Yeah. I'll join."

"Alriiiight!" Luffy bellowed, pumping a fist into the air and drawing the attention of the rest of the crew. "Sanji! Make sure you pick up plenty of meat in town! We've gotta have a feast tonight, okay?"

"You always find a reason to make every meal a feast," Sanji tsked. "Nami's given me a strict budget for this supply run and I'll honor her request at any cost."

"Food! Meat, meat meat!"

Luffy launched himself off the ship, chanting, closely followed by the others. Nami clapped Lana's shoulder in passing, affording her a smile that seemed warmer than any Lana had gotten from her up to that point.

"Welcome to the crew," Nami told her. "Just in time too... someone needs to watch the ship while the rest of us resupply."

"Huh? Hey, I wanna come too! What about Zoro? He's still here!" Lana protested.

"Yeah, him and his half-sliced off feet," Nami chortled with a roll of her eyes.

"But he's fine! Look, he's been working out for four hours!"

Lana pointed while Zoro ignored them and kept counting.

"... 1,372, 1,373, 1,374..."

"Hold down the fort, new kid!" Nami called back as she ran after the others.

Zoro finished his insane workout and dropped onto the deck with a soft groan and a thud that was way quieter than it should have been. Despite her annoyance at being left behind, Lana was still impressed with the control he demonstrated over his body.

Still, she crossed her arms over her chest, frowning as Zoro caught his breath.

"Is all this moving around really a good idea?" she asked. Admittedly, she was lashing out more with annoyance than worry for her newly acquired crew-mate.

"What, worried your patch job isn't up to the task?" Zoro challenged with a grin.

Lana glanced down and gulped. The silk stitches around both his ankles were intact, but still...

"I'm not a doctor," she reminded him. "They're not sutures, just stitching. They're meant to mend cloth, not flesh."

Lana felt the need to say it as a disclaimer in case the make-shift treatment didn't work as intended, but Zoro mistook her words for concern. He decided to stop teasing her.

"I'm staying off my feet," he assured her. "I won't break the stitches."

Lana puffed a little, blowing a stray lock of hair back up into it's proper place. It was true. She'd watched him exercising and he'd done an entire routine using only his arms.

"You'd better not break them," she warned. "Sewing your mangled ankles up was the grossest thing I've ever had to do, and if you think I'm doing it again, you're... you're... you're sleeping."

Zoro's only retort was a soft, gurgling snore.

Lana settled down on deck.

"Guess... I could practice if I wanted," she mused.

Lana only had one weapon, but she was in the habit of keeping it concealed. She'd swiped it nearly six months ago and hidden it well in her boot to keep Corrin from discovering it.

'It's a wonder the Baroque Works agents didn't find it. These are the best boots I've ever owned.'

She tugged the knife free. It was a balisong style blade, the very same she'd famously managed to stick a naval captain with. At the time she'd stolen it, she'd watched the vendor demonstrating the various ways you could flip it open and shut. She'd been dazzled by the display, but under Corrin's thumb, never dared try her hand at the tricks for fear that he would take away her prize.

"Alright, now..."

She swung it loosely, but still fumbled the opening and smacked her own wrist with the weighted handle.

"Ow..."

Lana lost track of time as she wrestled with the knife and her own clumsiness. Her concentration as so complete that she inadvertently blocked out the world. Every iota of her focus was invested in bending the weapon to her will.

"OW!"

A slip-up cost her some blood as the blade bit into her fingers.

"What a dangerous toy you've picked up, Avariya."

Lana's blood ran cold. Corrin's voice was right below her at her back. She turned, springing to her feet. Her old oppressor stood on the deck of a sloop, rocking gently on the waves in the shadow of the Merry.

"Corrin! How did you-"

"Escape? Well, it's a wonderful story, Avariya dear," Corrin grinned. "I'll be sure to tell it to you... after you've come with me!"

Corrin wasn't alone on the small boat, but the five men with him weren't familiar to Lana. He wasn't traveling with his usual crew.

'What happened to all the others? Are they dead? Serves them right, I hope they are!'

Corrin took a leap, launching himself onto the deck of the Merry with a resonant thud. Lana stumbled back, horror washing over her. This was a nightmare.

The rest of the men followed Corrin while he appraised his new surroundings.

"What a nice little ship," he chuckled. "Surely it can't be yours, can it?"

The savage light in his eyes alone was enough to make Lana tremble. The memory of the retribution he'd promised her for another attempt at escape...

'He won't take me. I'll die before I go with him again!'

Lana locked the knife open with both hands. All she could do was fight.

"No matter. Now, you're coming with me, Avariya!" Corrin growled. "Drop that little toy and come quietly... maybe I'll shorten the beating you're due, just by a little, if you don't give me much trouble now."

Corrin's men spread out to surround her. Lana gripped the knife like a lifeline, planted her feet firmly on the deck. With all her attention directed at her foes, she failed to notice Zoro waking. He yawned, stretched and sat up, rising cross-legged as he surveyed the scene.

"I'm not coming with you, Corrin!" Lana scowled. She was visibly shaking, but she still stood fast. Her determination was apparent to Zoro at a glance. "There's nothing you can do to make me!"

"Come on, lockbreaker!" Corrin sneered. "We've been through this enough times already! You know the outcome! Just give it up before you earn yourself an even worse beating than you already have!"

He reached for her and she slashed at him, sending him recoiling with a snarl. Zoro smirked.

"Hey Lana!" he called. "Friends of yours? You should have checked with the captain before you invited them aboard."

"The captain, eh? That you?" Corrin asked, turning his attention to Zoro.

"Nope."

"Hmph. That's too bad. If you were, I could have struck a bargain with you for Avariya."

Lana sliced a grasping hand, sending one of Corrin's hired men scrambling back cursing.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Zoro informed him, "But even if our captain was here, there's no way in hell he'd ever hand her over to you."

"You're confident you can speak on his behalf?"

Corrin's men were closing in on Lana. Her short, erratic attacks kept them at bay, but Zoro could tell that whatever meager training she had wouldn't be enough to save her. It was only a matter of time before her resolve, firm as it was, would be overcome.

"I am," Zoro announced. "And I'll only say this once: Get off our ship."

Corrin laughed and drew his cutlass.

"Take the lockbreaker, boys. I'll deal with her new friend."

The order given, Corrin's men descended on Lana all at once.

"Hey Lana! Don't let them overwhelm you," Zoro called helpfully, not moving from his seat on the deck. "Keep your focus, your grip and your balance!"

"I don't think I had any of those things to start with!" Lana protested from somewhere within the fray.

"If I were you, I'd worry less about Avariya and more about myself," Corrin warned as he advanced.

"Hm."

Zoro unsheathed Yubashiri by an inch, but otherwise remained rooted in place as Corrin approached.

Lana wasn't faring as poorly as she'd feared and a break in the scuffle afforded her a look at Zoro's situation.

"Zoro! Don't move! You'd better not- Ah! Hands off!"

'What's she so worried about, the stitches?' Zoro wondered. His smirk deepened.

"Come on, Lana, you think I need to get on my feet to take this pathetic sack? Don't make me laugh."

"Zoro! I'm serious! Don't you- Hey, watch it jerk!"

She was starting to get on his nerves. Nami had also been insufferable in the days following his injury and he was fed up with hearing about it.

"Don't order me around!" he snapped, eyes fixed to Corrin. The Seeker captain was almost close enough to cut down. "I don't need you or anyone else fussing over me like I'm some sick puppy!"

"Roronoa! Don't... you... dare!"

Lana rolled away from the tussling men, leaving her cloak behind as she planted herself between Zoro and Corrin. Zoro fumed. If she thought she could get between him and his adversary...

Lana panted, struggling to catch her breath while the men triumphantly restrained a figure wrapped in her cloak. She met Zoro's furious glare with fiery eyes of her own.

"Corrin is mine!"

Zoro's rage quelled and his eyebrows shot up as he realized Lana had no interest in keeping him off his feet after all. She just wanted to settle the score with her former captain herself.

"My mistake," Zoro chuckled, letting Yubashiri settle back fully into her sheath. "By all means."

"Corrin! We got her!"

The men proudly displayed their captive: one of their own comrades, battered, dazed and tangled Lana's purple cloak.

"You numbskulls! Avariya's right here!" Corrin raged.

"Quick moves and sleight of hand," Zoro observed. "And here I was, thinking you were pretty much totally untrained."

"I've trained alone. I never had the benefit of instruction," Lana admitted. "But don't think for a second I'll let that stop me from getting even with this scumbag!"

Zoro didn't think that, not even for a second. He could tell easily that Corrin wasn't a warrior. Not in the same sense as Zoro, or even barely trained little Lana. The man standing before them was just another bully trying to cow the world into submission with force and fists.

"Alright then, can I at least take out these other guys? Just sitting here watching is gonna bore me to death," Zoro groaned.

"Do what you want, I don't know any of these goons. Just leave Corrin to me."

Corrin's hired hands were just starting to get a handle on what had happened. They weren't the brightest bunch.

"Oh no! Orvil! We've killed Orvil!"

"He's not dead, dummy, you just knocked him out!"

"Me?! You're the one who-"

"QUIET!" Corrin roared. "Fools!"

While Corrin berated them, Zoro took a moment to correct his crewmate.

"Don't tell me you're gonna take him on with that."

"Huh?"

Lana held up the knife like she'd forgotten she had it.

"Well..."

Zoro crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not gonna sit here and say it's impossible for one to win a sword fight with a knife... just that you don't have the skills to pull it off," he sighed.

"Well, you're not wrong, but it's all I have," Lana protested.

"Open your eyes. Grab that Orvil guy's sword while these goons are squabbling."

"Then what? I've never even held a sword before! I have no idea how to use it!"

"The same is true of that knife. Pick up the cutlass. Training or no, it'll at least put your reach on par with your opponents'."

"I guess you're the expert," Lana admitted. She moved on the cutlass, drawing the collective gazes of their foes.

"Crap!"

"Get her and let's get going!" Corrin barked, mobilizing his men.

Behind Lana, Zoro stood and drew a single sword.

"If you want your fight, take it," he told her. "I'll clear out the riff-raff."

Just the thought of Zoro's feet made Lana's stomach turn, but she had her own battle to face.

"Corrin! Let's end this!" she declared.

As Zoro engaged the others, Lana stared down the man who had sworn to hunt her to the ends of the earth. She pulled at the sash on her wrist, yanking it up her arm to fully reveal the mark she'd been branded with years before.

"Today... You're taking this mark back!"

_________________________

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== First Chapter ==

#one piece #roronoa zoro #luffy #nami #oc #fanfic #pure-garbage #sandbox adventures #sanji

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 years ago

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Do you have any advice on how to balance writing with everyday activities? It's just, I never find the right time to write and I always feel like there's something more important to do.

Balancing Writing with Daily Activities

In fact, I DO have advice! This is something I struggle with a lot, as do many other writers. ♥

Here are some things that have helped me:

1) Be Realistic About Your Available Free Time

Sit down with a calendar and look at the current month--or just the current week if you prefer. Block out any days where you know you won't have any time to write, maybe because you have full day plans or something scheduled during your usual downtime. Now, look at each remaining day and consider how many hours of free time you will have on those days. "Free time" would mean time where that time doesn't have to be devoted to something else. Now, for each of those days, list out the non-writing activities you'd like to fill that time with on each particular day. This would be things like be socializing, playing video games, watching TV, working on a fun project... whatever activities you'd like to do on those days in the free time you have available. Think about how much time you'd like to spend writing each day, then assign an amount of time to each activity--either how much time you'd want to spend or how much time you think you'd spend. Now, see how each day pans out. Is there room for writing?

2) Make Writing a Priority

We all love to do things we enjoy, whether that's completely re-do our Animal Crossing island as Fairy Core, watch Encanto for the 77th time, or spend time in nature and find a nice spot to read a good book. However... if you have four hours of free time Monday through Friday, you can't do all of those things AND spend an hour writing. Something's got to give. So, looking at the activities you want to do on a particular day again, see which of those things you can prioritize behind writing. Maybe you reeeally need to take that 1-hour nature walk each day for self-care, so that's a top priority. But maybe you work on writing for an hour after that, and if there's time leftover, you can watch Encanto again or work on your Animal Crossing island. Sometimes the only way to get writing done is to be honest with ourselves about what we really want to do versus what we need to do, in this case, need being spending time writing.

3) Try Hard-Scheduling Your Writing Time

During some rough patches, I've had luck hard-scheduling my writing time and keeping it up like an appointment that can't be cancelled. Treating it that way, both in terms of personal priority and prioritizing it with others, makes it a little easier to stick with sometimes. Looking at your free time again, pick an hour (or two, or three) each day--all the better if you can do the same hour each day--and commit to writing during that time. When you get to that time every day, get your butt in the chair and write no matter what.

4) Find the Quiet Time in Your Day

As busy as our days might be, you probably have some quiet time during the day. It might be in the morning when you wake up, or maybe right before you go to bed. It might be the hour between when you get home from school or work, and family members or roommates get home from school or work. It could even be your lunch break, your commute on public transportation, or maybe a gap between classes. If you can find that patch of quiet time during your day, find a way to seize it and write. Even if you only write for 15 or 20 minutes, doing that every day (or most days) will get you moving forward on your story.

5) Honestly, Just Do It. Or, Maybe Don't...

For all of the above, and all the times one of the above has worked well for me, one thing I've learned about myself is this:

I'm just making excuses...

Sure, there always seems to be more "important" things to do, but at the end of the day, most of those things aren't actually that important. They're things I choose to do instead of writing. Why? Well, there can be a number of reasons. It could be because writing is hard, and sometimes it's easier to clean or do laundry than to sit down and flesh out a character or work on a difficult plotting problem. It could be because I'm not in the mood to write, or because my mental well being isn't in a good place for writing. It could just be that I'm choosing to do other things besides writing for no particular reason.

So, try just sitting down... right now... shut down Tumblr, turn off Netflix, put your phone on vibrate, ask anyone you live with not to bother you for a bit, and just start writing. Right now. Read through the last few paragraphs that you wrote, and go for there. Or, if you're plotting, look at the last bit you plotted out, and move forward.

Or, maybe this is the moment where you realize you're not working on your story because you've lost interest in it, or maybe you have no idea where the plot is going. Or maybe your heart and/or brain just aren't in a good place, and you have to accept that right now isn't a good time to worry about writing--but things will get better. You can try again next week.

If you think something about yourself or your project is what's holding you back, try having a look at my Motivation master list of posts. See if you can troubleshoot the problem. Otherwise, like I said, you can try again next week. You'll get there, I promise!

You've got this! ♥

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years ago

Text

The One That Got Away-Dream Was Taken

Pronouns: She/her

Word Count: 2.4k+

_____________

'You're gonna be there, right?'

Y/n bit her lip, reading the text message for what felt like the millionth time. She had texted him 40 minutes ago, yet no reply. This had become so much more common recently and she had no idea why. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal, but it felt important to Y/n. Clay would never leave her on delivered for more than ten minutes. Even when he was streaming, he'd text her before he had begun, telling her when he'd be finished.

Tonight was an important night, they had been planning for this for months. A few members of The Dream SMP server had come out to Florida to meet up. They had planned to meet up for dinner and maybe a bottle of wine at Y/n's house afterward.

Y/n admired herself in the mirror, she wore a black dress that complimented her body well. She felt gorgeous for the first time in weeks. Usually, she didn't rely on items to make her feel good about herself. Clay was always there to compliment her or assure she was pretty. But recently, he just seemed to disappear.

It felt so hard to connect with him recently, Clay had become so quiet. Every time she texted him, she was left on delivered for hours if she wasn't left on read. It was rare for him to even send a brief text back to her nowadays. Weeks had passed since the last time Y/n was able to see Patches or hang out with Clay.

At this point, it felt like Y/n was at war with herself. Half of her was so demotivated, maybe it was time to finally leave Clay alone. The other half was demanding they had to keep trying, their friendship was just going through a rough patch right now.

'You know why you're trying to hold onto this friendship, you have feelings for him.' Y/n swallowed hard while the thought of Clay appeared in her mind again. It was true, she had grown a small crush on her blonde friend. But it wasn't her fault, It was because of the way he use to be so protective of her. The way his face lit up when he laughed. The way he just knew something was wrong. 'But that doesn't matter. It's obvious he'll never feel the same way about you.'

Before she had gotten another chance to argue with herself, Y/n's phone had buzzed. Clay? ...Wilbur.

'Hey, I'm gonna uber to the restaurant in the next few minutes. On your way?"

Letting out a sigh, she typed away. 'Getting in the car in five minutes.' She took one more glance at herself in the mirror. "He's going to be there, I know it."

"Y/n!"

"George!" Y/n smiled, picking up her pace as soon as she spotted her friend. Their arms wrapped around each other, holding one another tight. "It's so good to see you."

George let out a short laugh, "It's good to see you too, Y/n." He pulled away from the hug. He had dressed in a suit, they had planned to meet at an expensive restaurant for the night. It was recommended by Clay, it was one of his favorites.

"Anyways, we should go find our table, I think Wilbur's already here."

The pair walked side by side, friendly banter being spoken between them as they entered the restaurant. Nostalgia immediately hit Y/n as they passed through the doors, it wasn't her first time here. Multiple times in the past, Clay had brought Y/n out to eat here. The first time they ate here was the first time she had seen him in a suit.

"Y/n?"

"Oh, yes?" The h/c girl had quickly snapped back into reality, looking to her right. "I'm sorry, lost my train of thought for a moment."

"It's fine, I think I see Wilbur." George motioned to look across the room, there at a round table was another friend from the UK. Wilbur sat down, looking at something in his lap.

Biting down on her lip, Y/n had to fight back the urge to yell aloud; "Wilbur!" And run to him. When the lanky man had noticed his friends, he smiled and stood from his chair.

"Wilbur!" she whispered quietly, trying not to disturb the other tables. Quickly she shuffled over to give as big a hug as she could.

"Y/n!" He whispered back, returning the exact energy she gave.

One by one, more and more friends had arrived. Everyone seemed so happy to see each other. Eventually, it seemed as though each person was lost in a conversation... besides Y/n. She had been staring down at her phone, she was still left on delivered by Clay. 'What a dick.'

"hey, Y/n." Her head shot up, looking across the table. Niki sat there with a smile, "Just curious, is Clay showing up tonight?"

Y/n's smile faded for a second, only to reappear. "I... I doubt it. I haven't received a text message back from him, and he hasn't answered any of my calls for these past few days." She ignored George and Nick, who gave each other a certain look as she spoke. But at this point, it didn't matter. Clay wasn't going to ruin Y/n's night with her friends.

"Here, let me try and call him... would that be alright, Y/n?" George was already standing as he spoke, his phone in one of his hands.

She flashed a faked smile at him, "Yeah, I don't care, Gogy."

With that, George had excused himself from the table, already beginning to pull up Clay's contact before he even reached outside. Y/n help her breathe for a moment, watching her British friend disappear around the corner, out of sight. Usually, 'out of sight, out of mind' made sense, but not in this case. Y/n could feel her stomach doing backflips as she glanced from her phone, checking the time, only to look back to see if George had returned yet. It practically felt like time had slowed down, trying to drag these few minutes out as long as possible.

When George had returned, Y/n could already tell he didn't have good news. Just by the look on his face, she knew Clay had flaked out on all of his friends.

"Clay's gonna be a little bit late, he's bringing a surprise with him."

"A surprise?"

What surprise could Clay possibly be planning? Whatever it was, Y/n hoped it would be something to help keep their friendship from breaking apart. "Did he mention how long it'd take for him to show up?"

"He said, 15-20 minutes."

"So let's just order drinks now, he can get whatever he likes when he shows up.

If time wasn't slow enough while George was on the phone, it felt like she was stuck in time. Y/n had begun to pick at her nails nervously, this was going to be the first time they saw one another in weeks.

"Hey," Y/n felt Wilbur place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts again. "Look."

She glanced up at the entrance. There he was, wearing the suit she had seen him wear for the first time. A giant grin was on Clay's face as he walked, he looked to his left. And there she was... a blond-haired girl wearing the exact same dress Y/n had picked out for tonight. Y/n could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Hey guys," Clay spoke as soon as he came into earshot of his friends. Looking over the table, his eyes looked with Y/n's for a short second. "I want you to meet Elise."

One by one, Elise had introduced herself to each of Clay's friends. But when she reached Y/n, it felt like a stab in the stomach. "Omg, hi! You must be Y/n!" She was pulled into a quick, bone-breaking hug, "I love your dress! Oh, we're matching! How cute!" She just seemed to perfect, she was so much better than Y/n.

While an extra chair had been pulled up the table, everyone was lost in conversation. Except for Y/n, she had stayed quiet. Every now and then, she'd look over to Clay, who sat across the table. Their eyes would lock every couple of times, a strange feeling laid in the pit of her stomach when it would happen.

It seemed as though Wilbur had caught onto Y/n's anxiety. He was quick to offer his hand, allowing his friend to hold it under the table. Wilbur had always been a good friend to her, if Y/n wouldn't tell Clay about something, she'd turn to her brunette friend. So of course, he knew about her feelings towards Clay.

After placing everyone's orders, Y/n just couldn't take it anymore. Standing, she moved across the table. "Clay, could I get a moment to speak to you outside?"

"Uh, sure... Y/n." He was hesitant to stand. Before leaving the table, he had whispered something into Elise's ear.

The short walk outside was quiet. There was obvious tension between them. When the front doors opened, Clay had begun to speak. "I-"

"No. Not right here. Around the corner." Y/n didn't stop walking, making a direct beeline for the alleyway on the left of the building. She could hear Clay let out a sigh behind her, only making her fight the urge to yell a brief; 'fuck you,' at him.

When they were finally around the corner, she had turned on her heels to face the 6'3 man. "What the fuck, Clay?"

"What?"

" 'What?' You don't get to ghost me for weeks then reply with, 'what?' Do you know what a dick move that is? Where have you been?" She practically hissed at him, crossing her arms as she spoke. If it was possible, steam would leave her body from how upset she was.

"I've been busy, Y/n."

"Busy? So that means you cut me out of your life? After being friends for months?"

"You aren't the most important thing in my life, Y/n. You should know that." It was Clay's turn to give Y/n a nasty look. But at this point, she didn't care.

"I know, I shouldn't be the most important person in your life, Clay. But that doesn't mean shut me out of your life." She snapped at him, pushing herself up against his chest, "You know what would've been nice? Not being left on delivered or read. It would've been nice if I could receive a text every now and then catching me up about your life."

"As I said, I was busy."

"Busy! That's your only excuse, pathetic. I can tell you're busy, you have a girlfriend and I never got to meet her."

"Well,-"

"Am I the only one who didn't know about her?"

Clay froze. he knew this was the end of the line for him.

"Clay." His silence spoke loud enough. "I'm happy for you, I really am. But... it fucking hurts, you know." Y/n let out a short giggle, she could feel her eyes watering. "I loved you, you know. I loved you so damn much. If you told me to do something, I'd do it with hesitation. But it's crystal clear the feelings aren't mutual."

"Y/n..."

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna leave. Don't worry, I've ruined the night, I'm sorry. Enjoy your time with your friends, Clay. Don't let me rain on your parade any longer." Y/n had stepped back, trying to move past her friend.

"Y/n, listen to me."

"Move, Clay. God damn it."

For a few seconds, Clay continued to try and catch her attention, refusing to let her past. "Y/n, shut the fuck up. Listen to me." Out of frustration, Clay had grabbed onto the girl's shoulders, pushing her against the wall. Y/n looked down at the ground, batting back tears. "Y/n..." he sighed, moving one of his hands under her chin gently. Carefully, he made her look up at him. He always hated seeing her cry.

"I'm an idiot. A big one. Y/n... I love you too. I just didn't think you felt the same, so I decided to push you out. I looked for love somewhere else and I found Elise. But Y/n, I really do love you."

"No, you don't..." Y/n whispered softly, she shook her head as a dumb smile appeared on her face. "If you loved me, you would've made a move. You wouldn't have closed me out of your life for weeks. You wouldn't have found someone new to love. Please don't bullshit me, Clay. You know I'm not stupid."

"Y/n..." clay could feel his heart begin to crack, it hurt to see her like this.

"Please just let me go," her voice was soft as she spoke. He really did hurt her heart. "I want to say goodbye to my friends."

"I..." Letting out a sigh, he stepped back, "alright."

Clay watched as Y/n disappeared around the corner, wiping tears from her face. Why was he such a fool to let her go?

Y/n smiled as soon as her table came into sight. It would all be quick and easy. As soon as Elise noticed her, she stood from her seat. "Oh my god, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit chilly outside," Y/n replied, pulling Elise in for a hug. "It was so nice to meet you. You're such a lovely girl to talk to."

"Right back at you," Elise smiled at Y/n, taking her seat again.

One by one, Y/n gave each of her friends a hug goodbye. When Wilbur held her, she was quick to whisper something brief to him: "Walk me to my car?" Wilbur nodded, taking her purse for her as they walked out. On their way out, Clay had passed by them. He kept to himself, looking the other way when Y/n came into sight. When he was out of earshot, Wilbur spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly, no. I just wanna go home and cry." Y/n let out a huff of breath. She was speed walking to keep up with her tall friend.

"Do you want me to tag along?"

"Please." As the night continued on, it seemed like both Clay's and Y/n's moods had changed drastically. While Y/n was at home watching movies and laughing with one of her best friends, Clay was stuck in the place that reminded him of Y/n, thinking about how she'd be the one who got away. Did it hurt him? Yes, but he deserved it. He was the one who ruined it all. Nothing would be the same after tonight.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years ago

Note

Oh gosh, I'm a bit late to this!

~Kitty, She/her, 19, Creepypasta fandom, romantic, first letter

And oh sweet mercies, thank you for doing this!!

~<°>~

Jack,

How have you been? I've missed you like crazy, but you probably knew that, based on receiving this letter. In all honesty, I was hesitate to send one, even asking the question, "Would EJ like receiving letters, or is thst too mushy?" But I sent one anyway, so here! I just threw caution to the wind, I s'pose.

Do you remember when we went star gazing? You never took off your mask, but that's okay. I like how the night ambienxe reflected off it. And you pointed out so many stars, I had to look them up. First there was Orion, and then Sirus the dog star, Capella, and Auriga, Gemini, and the Eskimo Nebula. You sounded so excited, so wonderful, and you looked handsome, laying back to watch the stars.

I miss holding your hand, strangely. I know you said mine were so small, and that you didn't watch to break them accidently. You're very sweet that way, you know that? And I'm a lot tougher than I look, despite the wrist brace. And the ankle brace. And the bad bone days. And, well, uhm, I'm tougher than I look! Shush, I can hear you laughing at that now! I swear! I is big and scary and strong shush!

I would have sent flowers, but most bouquets sellers don't have blue azealas. I'll start growing some in my herb garden once I find the seeds. I hope chocolates are okay though. Especially the fancy Valentines day ones. I have a soft spot for them, and I thought you might too <3

Anyways, I've probably stolen enough of your time today, so I'll wrap this up.

You are so amazing and you stay safe out there. You better. Or I'll try to patch you up myself. And we already know the mess with the medical tape. So stay safe or as safe as you can.

Oh, and if Jeff gives you any trouble, here's some hair removal cream. Instructions right on the bottle. Just in case.

Anywhos, take care! Be safe! I love you!

~Kitty :3

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those You Hold Dear (Valentine's Edition) is a special event I'm holding from February 13th - February 23rd 11:59 PM. Find the guidelines HERE so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3.]

[AN: You're not late at all! I just work,,, slow,,,, and I'm happy to write them for you!!]

Dear Kitty,

Believe it or not, I actually prefer letters to texting. Do you know how many phones I can break in half a year? The number is absurd and I'm tired of getting BEN to actually wipe them clean for me. So, I make Smile ferry letters around for me in the meantime. It's kinda nice, if I'm being honest. But to answer your question, I'm doing just fine. Work has finally lightened up a bit and I feel like I can breathe again.

I had no idea you were actually listening that intently. Usually, when I start rattling off about things I find interesting, people zone out. However, humans have always loved the stars and I am no different. Thank you for the kind words in the meantime - it... It means a lot to me. Everything you've just written. It's sweet and well, it tells me we'll need to go stargazing sometime soon. Whenever that will be.

I'm a pretty big demon, if I'm being honest. But you've always been smaller than everyone else - at least to me. You're something to be treated delicately, soft, and sweetly. I couldn't really imagine it any other way. Love how you can tell the smile on my lips just from reading your words. It's sweet, y'know? You're a little ball of energy sometimes, I'll give you that! And if you were duking it out with me, I'm sure you'd win. I couldn't bring myself to hurt you. You know how male puppies will let their smaller partners win? It's how I feel about you.

You never actually steal any of my time, just my heart. I don't like being seen as soft or even sweet, but I find those walls easy to drop whenever you're around. You mean the world to me, and never would you ever be considered a burden or that you need to wrap things up just because. I will never be too busy for you.

Happy Valentine's to you as well, dearest. It's been an odd few weeks, what with everyone coming and going and needing medical assistance, but it seems they've lightened up for the holiday. I hope I can see you soon, and give you some things in person. But in the meantime, these will have to suffice.

All of my love and adoration,

Jack

[Attached with the letter is a bouquet of cornflowers, forget me nots and prairie violets. They're bound together by a red ribbon that has cheesy little hearts on it.]

#letters to those you hold dear #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader smut #creepypasta headcanon

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

worth the wait [three] // daisy johnson

summary: when you're out chasing a story that leads you to the unanticipated hands of HYDRA, you certainly don't expect to be rescued by a girl you presumed dead for nine years.

warning/s: descriptions of violence, torture, injuries.

author’s note: here’s the next part, hope you all like it!

Nine years later...

"I'm meeting with my contact now. He said he knows something about the weapons."

"Okay, just make sure you're safe, Y/N."

I smiled with amusement. "I always am, Taylor. I think this could be the source to break the story though. I'm gonna try and get them to speak on the record."

"Just be careful," he warned.

"Will do," I promised, before checking my watch for the time. "Okay, I gotta go. See ya."

"Good luck," he finished, and I hung up before putting my phone away.

Looking around, I saw the village was quiet seeing as it was pretty late and everyone was in their homes. It was the perfect place to meet with a source for my story on human trafficking.

I headed down the street and waited outside the apartment building for my source. I had no idea what he looked like, but nobody else would be out this late into the night, so he couldn't be hard to spot.

A few minutes passed before I saw a guy approaching me, holding some files in his hands. I straightened up and held his gaze as he stopped before me. He glanced around before looking me up and down.

"You are Y/N?" he asked with a Burmese accent.

I nodded, speaking fluent Burmese as I said, "Yes. You must be Ohnmar? We can speak Burmese if you prefer."

"Okay. We talked earlier, but it wasn't safe then. I have information on the missing residents," he answered in Burmese, before shaking the files. "It's all in here, but you mustn't open it until you get home."

I accepted the files and nodded, though was mildly confused. "Is it about the labour they're doing? I have a theory, but I have no proof. I... I think it might be HYDRA."

He pursed his lips and I figured he was confirming my thoughts, which concerned me.

"I'm right," I realised, before moving to open the file. "I need to–"

"You should've stayed away," he suddenly said in English, and I looked up in confusion.

Before I could question him, he pulled a gun from behind him and hit me on the head, knocking me to the ground. I tried to blink my eyes open, but my vision was blurred and I eventually blacked out, unable to stay awake any longer.

I woke up in a dark room with an aching head and confused mind. It took a moment for me to catch myself up, but I soon realised I'd been tricked by my contact. I was so easily fooled and I felt stupid as I hadn't seen it coming, instead too blindsided by my need for information.

Looking around, I realised I was tied to a chair. The only light in the room was from a single electric lamp plugged in the corner, shedding light on the damaged walls and, to my dismay, a HYRDA logo.

"Well, fuck," I mumbled, before shaking my wrists to try and get free, but they were tied pretty tightly with rope, making me shift uncomfortably at the chafing.

Panic started to set in when the door slammed open in front of me, flooding the room with light and making me close my eyes with discomfort. I heard another slam and opened my eyes when I saw the door closed behind whoever entered.

Two people were in the room and one of them turned the lamp, shining it in my direction and also revealing my assailants' faces. One of them was Ohnmar, my contact, which I guess wasn't his real name. The other wasn't anybody I recognised, and they were both wearing uniforms with the HYDRA logo on the pocket.

"I wouldn't try to escape if I were you," the fake Ohnmar said.

I clicked my tongue and looked between the both of them. "I'm guessing I got a little too close to the truth which is why I'm here. Right?"

"You've been putting your nose in where it doesn't belong," the other guy said. "Did you really think you would get away with this? That we'd let you write about this?!"

I flinched at his loud volume before clearing my throat. "I didn't think I needed your permission. And in case you didn't notice, it's my job to report on this."

Fake Ohnmar scoffed. "We don't care what your job is. Now tell us what you know and what you've told your superiors back home."

I narrowed my eyes. "Do you really think this is the first time I've been captured? I've spent nine months in this village. If you think I'm going to throw that away for you, you better think again."

Fake Ohnmar's friend cracked his neck, pacing with discomfort, before pulling out a gun. I chewed on the inside of my mouth, nerves settling as I tried not to show it.

"We have someone going through your electronics as we speak," he told me, gripping his gun. "Your superiors will get their updates as expected, but you won't be giving them."

"Look, you're gonna kill me whether I tell you or no–"

I was cut off when he smacked me across the face with his gun, making me see stars momentarily. I felt something warm gush from my nose and realised I was bleeding.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," he muttered, his face inches from my face as he stared me down threateningly. "Now tell us what you know of the missing villagers."

I wiped my nose on my shirt the best I could and chose not to speak. They couldn't do much without knowing what I knew. Everything I'd learnt had been sent back home to the news organisation I worked for, and if I didn't get back to them or call them, they'd know what happened.

"Two things I despise," he mumbled with irritation. "Journalists and Americans." He waved to his friend dismissively. "She won't talk. You know what to do."

Fake Ohnmar nodded obediently before suddenly punching me in the face, once again, leaving me dazed. This went on for a while, him beating me up as an attempt at torture, before the two of them left me alone to 'think about' if I wanted to tell them.

I had been in this situation, surprisingly, two times before in my journalistic career. Both times I was able to get out either by escaping myself or managing to get found by the authorities. Of course, in this case, the latter seemed impossible, so my only hope was escaping myself.

I looked around, but realised I was in too much pain to hatch a plan right now. They'd done a good job on me, and I was sure my ribs were bruised pretty badly. Honestly, I didn't expect nine months of investigative journalism in Myanmar to lead to HYDRA of all places.

—

"You've beat me, starved me..." I coughed because of how dry my throat was. "I'm not talking."

Fake Ohnmar placed something rectangular on the table in front of me. I realised it was my laptop – they must have taken it from where I'd left it in the room I'd been renting downtown.

"You're clever, I'll give you that," he said, crossing his arms and shaking his gun impatiently. "Where did you learn such complicated encryptions?"

I couldn't help but smile when I knew he couldn't get into my laptop. At least not the parts that exposed what I'd learnt so far.

"You do what I do and you learn from past mistakes," I told him, making him clench his jaw.

It wasn't much, probably the only trick in the book I knew as I wasn't exactly an expert with computers. Clearly it was benefiting me today though.

He slammed his hand on the table suddenly, making me jump. "Tell me the password, now!"

I licked my dry lips, choosing to stay quiet. I began to wonder just how advanced these guys were if they couldn't even afford to get a hacker to break through.

"So it's gonna be like that," he said with a shrug, before pointing his gun at my face.

He flicked off the safety and I closed my eyes as calmly as I could, already saying my goodbyes in my head. A few days in a HYDRA cell was like weeks anywhere else. I'd accepted my fate.

I expected the shot to go off any minute now, wondering what things would be like afterwards. Would it hurt? Would it be an instant death?

I certainly didn't expect my left ear to be ringing as an excruciating pain shot up my neck from my shoulder. My eyes opened and I tried to breathe through the pain whilst hoping my ear would stop ringing. The man began to laugh, but I couldn't hear him, only see his evil smile.

When I looked down, I saw blood seeping from a bullet wound in my left shoulder. Despite my experience in this profession, I can't say I'd ever been shot before. It certainly hurt a lot more than I'd imagined.

"You talk and I get you patched up," he said when my hearing returned to normal. I looked up and saw him watching me with narrowed eyes. "You stay quiet and we see how long it takes for you to bleed out."

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut to contain the pain, before opening them again.

"You're gonna move operations," I realised aloud. "You want to know whether you can. Because if I've told them about you, you know you can't stay here much longer. And if I haven't, you just get rid of me."

He squeezed his gun with irritation, watching as I spoke the truth.

"But either way I die," I repeated. "So why the hell would I want the last thing I do be to help you?"

He grabbed the laptop before kicking the table away with anger. "Call when you feel like talking. We can make your death quick and painless or long and painful."

I smiled bitterly as I watched him leave the room, slamming the door behind him. I released a deep breath as I looked down at my shoulder, trying to make out the damage. I didn't know much about first aid, but I was pretty sure there was no exit wound meaning the bullet was still in there. That was good, right? Or wasn't it...? I couldn't remember. I just knew it hurt like hell.

—

Hours had passed and I began to hallucinate. Silly things like cheeseburgers and dancing water bottles – lack of food and drink, the blood loss and the heat was making my head spin. I wasn't sure if this was where I wanted to die – in a small, dirty, hot room by myself. Was it worth it? Dying over a news story?

Of course it was. I pursued this story after some social media posts about disappearing villagers in Myanmar. I stayed here nine months with each day leading me closer and closer to the supposed human trafficking that was going on. I got to where I was because I wanted to get justice for those who suffered and stop anyone else from suffering. Yet the only people who knew were my editors back home, and I wasn't sure they'd ever know the full truth.

It was better than helping the enemy though.

Just when I thought cheeseburgers were the worst of my delusions, I saw a face I hadn't thought about in a long time. A person who I least expected my mind to drag up in a time like this.

The door opened and I was sure I was going to be questioned again, but in ran none other than Skye. The same Skye who had ran away all those years ago and wasn't to be found.

She looked a little older with her shorter hair, but otherwise she was just as I remembered.

"Hey, I'm gonna get you out of h– Y/N?" she started, before furrowing her eyebrows with confusion.

She even sounded the same, and if I could feel anything at that moment, I'm sure I would've felt my heart beating quickly at the sight of her.

"Can you hear me?"

I began to laugh with what little energy I had left. Is this what it was like to die? Seeing things that you'd pushed down for so long to stop your heart from hurting? It was strange. Why was my mind playing with me like this?

"Y/N, look at me, can you hear me?!" she asked quickly, grabbing my face and forcing me to meet her eyes.

I continued to laugh because it all felt so real. Her touch, her voice, her eyes that peered into me. I wished it was because maybe after all of these years I could have made things right.

—

"Miss, can you hear me? Y/N?"

I blinked the tiredness from my eyes and opened them, trying to remember what was happening. But I was confused and my body was numb and nothing made sense.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you hear me?"

I turned my head, realising I was laying in a bed. There was a woman beside my bed – a doctor, I presumed – staring down at me with a friendly smile on her face. I nodded slowly, my mouth dry.

I couldn't remember getting out of that cell, being rescued. Unless I wasn't rescued and this was still a trap.

At this thought, I widened my eyes and tried to move, panic setting in, but I was attached to a bunch of tubes and my body was still numb.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," the doctor tried to reassure, resting her hands on my arm, trying to keep me still. "You're safe here. You're on a S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet. That's like a plane...? We got you out of that HYDRA cell and I've bandaged your wounds. You don't need to be afraid anymore."

I wasn't sure whether to believe her, but something about the way she spoke and the kindness in her eyes made me relax.

"My name is Agent Simmons," she introduced as she grabbed something from beside me, "but you can call me Jemma."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. On cue, she held a glass of water towards me and helped me sit up enough to have some from the straw. It felt good to have actual water in my system after not being given anything the past two days.

"Not too quickly," she said gently. "Take your time."

I listened to her before laying back down. It took a few tries, but I managed to get out, "Thank you, Jemma. I'm Y/N."

"Y/N Y/L/N, investigative journalist for the New York Times," she stated before an apologetic expression crossed her face. "Sorry. Facial recognition an' all... I hope that doesn't freak you out."

I sighed, not the slightest bit surprised. I knew enough about S.H.I.E.L.D. to know they had the resources to know exactly who I was.

"I don't remember you getting me," I said with confusion. "How did you I know I was there?"

Jemma took a seat on the stool beside my bed. "Well, technically it was Quake who got you out. We had reports of HYDRA activity in that area for a while and we knew an American journalist had been taken, but we didn't know it was you."

I nodded, though I was still confused. "Who's Quake?"

Jemma chuckled, thinking I was joking. But when I met her eyes with confused ones, she lost her smile.

"You're serious? You don't know who Quake is?"

I shook my head. "I've been in Myanmar for nine months, and not in the most advanced areas. I haven't had much access to American news."

"Seriously?" she asked with disbelief, before putting her arms out and shaking them. "Earthquake-causing, vibration-manipulating, tremor-shaking superhero Quake?"

I raised an eyebrow judgementally, making Jemma lower her arms sheepishly.

"Oh, well, she's a hero that works for S.H.I.E.L.D.," she explained.

I nodded slowly, deciding that was something to ask more about later on. For now, I was more concerned about my story.

"You said S.H.I.E.L.D. had been watching that area for a while," I recalled. "Does that mean you found out what happened to the missing villagers? I got as far as working out HYDRA had been using them for some sort of forced labour, but never beyond that."

Jemma got up from her stool and busied herself with other things. "I, er, that's actually classified...? You see, it's not good if we tell you, especially as you're a journalist..."

"But it's my story," I countered with annoyance. "I've been trying to work this out for almost a year. I deserve to know the outcome. Did you save those villagers? Were they all alive? Did the local authorities know?"

Jemma seemed to be getting uncomfortable the more questions I asked and I forced myself to sit up, groaning at the ache in my shoulder.

"You can't hide this from me," I told her. "Please, just tell me."

She grimaced. "It's not my place. I'm not in charge–"

"Then tell me who is!" I shouted with frustration, before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just– I've put a lot of work into this and it can't just be taken away. I need to know what happened."

She nodded, avoiding my eyes for fear I'd get angry again. "Look, I can talk to my superiors and find out what I can say. For now, you should really be resting."

I leaned back and breathed out slowly, already feeling my fatigue catching up to me.

"Okay," I said quietly, before asking, "You said we were on a plane. Where are we going?"

"That's actually classified as well," she said regretfully, making me sigh. "We're going to our headquarters. But after that, we'll be taking you home or wherever you want us to take you."

At the mention of home, I grew hopeful. It had been so long since I'd been back. I wasn't exactly in the right state to be living by myself, so I was glad that I had made the choice to leave my flat and move in with my parents before leaving for Myanmar. Plus, I had missed them dearly. To be back there was almost unimaginable.

"Can I ring my parents?" I asked hopefully. "Just to let them know I'm okay? And that I'm coming soon?"

Jemma nodded, offering a small smile. "Of course, Y/N. I'll go grab you a phone."

She left the room momentarily and I took that as my chance to get a good look around. It looked like a hospital room you'd find anywhere, except without windows and with card-activated doors that had tiny glass windows showing a narrow hallway. I didn't get to look around for too long as Jemma returned pretty quickly, handing me (what looked like) a normal mobile phone.

"I'll give you a moment of privacy, but please only call your parents," Jemma warned as politely as she could.

I cracked a small smile. "What – are you guys tracking the phone or something?"

She chewed on her lower lip as she looked down, making my smile fade as I realised that's exactly what they were doing. I wasn't surprised, I guess.

"Right, okay, no other calls, got it," I agreed with a nod.

She left me to it as I dialled my mum's mobile number and eventually spoke to both her and my dad. It was emotional to say the least, as I tried not to worry them too much without withholding the truth. They knew when I was lying so it was better to just be honest. Of course, they were happy to have me stay at theirs until I was back on my feet and the call ended with my mum scolding me for not resting as the doctor recommended.

Finally succumbing to the tiredness I was feeling, I fell asleep for God knows how long, but when I woke up, I felt more refreshed. Similar to before, Jemma was in the room, checking some charts. She caught my eye when I woke up and smiled reassuringly.

"Feeling better?" she asked, setting down the chart and rounding the bed.

I nodded. "Yeah, thanks... how long was I asleep for?"

"About six hours," she guessed, waving her hand. "We've landed at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ and our agents are debriefing. Once everything is sorted here, we can take you home to New York and arrange a driver to take you to wherever you want."

"My parents' house," I clarified.

She smiled and nodded. "Right. Your parents' house. How are you feeling?"

I tried to sit up and she helped me as I smiled gratefully in return.

"I'm not gonna lie, being shot hurts like a bitch," I admitted, grimacing as I glanced at my shoulder and arm in a sling.

"First time?"

"And hopefully the last," I retorted, before looking to her. "How long will this take to, y'know, get better?"

"Well, I'll need to keep you here for observation over the next few days," she explained. "When I'm happy with the outcome, I'll send you home and you'll need fortnightly checkups at the hospital. Overall I'd say a month? Maybe more if there's no... er... other issues."

"I know you mean PTSD," I told her bluntly, before frowning. "Doing what I do requires knowledge of that."

"There's going to be support available for you, both here and back home," Jemma reassured, resting a hand on mine and offering a small smile. "You're not alone, Y/N."

I nodded, clearing my throat. "I know... I know. Thanks."

She nodded and moved to the other side of the room to grab something, before wheeling a tray of food over to me.

"Hope you're hungry," she joked. "It's nothing fancy, but it's pretty good."

I smiled and accepted the food. "Means a lot, thanks."

I took a bite out of my sandwich as I remembered something. When I finished chewing, I wiped my face with the napkin before looking to Jemma who was at her desk.

"Er, Jemma," I called, making her look up. "Did you find out what happened to the villagers?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. "I've spoken to my superiors. I know you've been working on this and I'm only permitted to tell you so much."

I waited patiently, not wanting to snap at her like last time.

"The missing villagers were in fact taken by HYDRA, like you predicted," she explained. "They were forced into labour at a facility that was under the guise of a food warehouse."

"What was the labour?" I asked curiously.

She ran a hand through her hair. "I can't tell you much, but I can say that it was a nuclear weapon that could've hurt a lot of people. S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to stop it before they could finish it, which is when we found out that a journalist had been taken. That was when we came for you."

I released a deep breath, definitely not expecting that. At least they had been stopped.

"Did the missing people return to their families? Were they okay?" I asked hesitantly, remembering the many families I spoke to of the missing. I'd grown attached and I don't think I could have taken more bad news.

"Most of them, yes!" she exclaimed hopefully, but I could tell the following news wouldn't be good. "But not all of them were okay. There's some psychological damage and unfortunately physical damage, too. HYDRA did a number on them."

I massaged my head with my right hand, trying not to get upset, but the guilt in the pit of my stomach wasn't helping. I had one job, literally, and I couldn't even do it right.

"Y/N–"

"Do you have a list?" I asked, cutting her off. "A list of who made it?"

"Y/N, I don't think–"

"Please," I pleaded. "I spoke to the families of those who were missing. I got to know them. I need to know who's not getting their loved ones back."

She frowned, but nodded slowly. "I'm sure I can do something."

I sighed and my shoulders sunk with disappointment. Just another day on the job.

—

It had been a few days since being rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D. and I was itching to get home, but Jemma insisted I be observed for at least another day.

Under different circumstances, I would have been eager to explore the quinjet and get more information out of Jemma about her place of work, but I was too exhausted to care. Instead, I revelled in being taken care of and having a break from work.

I was laying in bed, reading a book, when Jemma walked in and caught my attention. I tried not to bother her as she was clearly working on other stuff, but it got pretty boring sitting in a room by yourself all day.

"Hey," I greeted with a smile, lowering my book.

"Hello," she returned as she took a seat at her desk, going on her computer. "You doing alright?"

"As alright as I can be, considering," I said, shrugging with my right shoulder. "Just a bit bored."

"The book not good?" she asked, nodding to my hand.

"I've read it," I admitted. "I just didn't wanna be a bother and ask for another one."

She chuckled. "You could have said something."

"It's okay," I assured her, before leaning back. "So, up to anything fun?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Are you seriously that bored?"

I nodded, pursing my lips, making her laugh. Eventually, she stared at me curiously.

"There's actually something I wanted to ask you," she admitted, crossing her arms and leaning back on her chair. "If you don't mind."

Wanting any distraction from my boredom, I nodded. "Go for it. I'm all ears."

"I've been reading some of your work," she shared. "You're really talented and you've been through your fair share of tough scrapes."

I chuckled. "I guess, yeah. And thank you. What's the question exactly?"

She looked at me like it was obvious. "What made you want to do this as a job? Investigative journalism?"

I played with the corner of the book as I answered thoughtfully, "Well, I guess I've always enjoyed writing and delving deep into stuff. The important stuff, y'know?" I looked down at my hands as I remembered Skye. "There was actually this girl I knew back in school. She was a friend and she, er... she was always wanting to find and expose truths. About herself, the world... I guess she kind of influenced me in a way."

I chewed on the inside of my mouth as I remembered my hallucination. Skye seemed to be coming up a lot more in my life lately, more than I was prepared for.

"I'm guessing she isn't with you anymore," Jemma realised, expression softening. "I'm sorry."

I forced a small smile, looking up and shaking my head reassuringly. "It's okay, it doesn't matter."

Jemma smiled in return, but I could see the pity present in her eyes. "I'm sure whoever she was, she'd be proud of you now. For everything you've done."

"Thank you, Jemma, but I... I'm not too sure about that."

"I am."

I froze at the sound of a familiar voice. Was I hallucinating again? No, that couldn't be. I was getting better. But that sounded so real...

"Proud of you, that is," the voice continued, and I risked looking towards the door where I saw none other than Skye standing there with a nervous smile on her lips.

When I met her gaze, I knew she wasn't a figment of my imagination. Those piercing brown eyes couldn't be fake.

"Hey," she got out, barely a whisper.

I licked my lips and tried to look away, but my heart was suddenly racing in my chest. She was just how I saw her last, but I guess that had been real now.

"I should give you guys a moment," Jemma said, pulling me from my reverie and making me look away.

She walked out, past Skye, leaving us both alone. I was still in shock though, too startled to say anything.

"How are you?" she asked gently, and I still couldn't believe I was hearing her voice after all these years. When I didn't say anything, she continued, "I know this is strange, but–"

"Strange?" I finally found my words, eyebrows raised. "What exactly is strange? The part where I'm sure I'm seeing a ghost right now as I you presumed you were dead after not being able to find you for years after you left, or the part where you've probably been at S.H.I.E.L.D. the whole time and didn't bother to tell me you were okay? Which part is strange exactly?"

She frowned guiltily, eyes falling to her shoes. "When I left–"

"Ran away," I corrected her, bitterness slashing through like a sharp knife, surprising the both of us.

She glanced at me, nodding. "Right... when I ran away, I left you a message."

I almost laughed, a sarcastic smile on my lips. "Don't even get me started on the excuse veiled as a message you left me. The cowardly way out you took because you couldn't face me."

She met my gaze nervously. "I didn't think you'd be this angry after all this time. It happened so long ago."

"Of course I'm angry!" I shouted with frustration, making me grimace at the pain in my shoulder, but I didn't stop. "You left without a single trace of Skye or Mary left behind! You left me with nothing but concern for your wellbeing! I thought you were dead!"

I hadn't realised how I angry I was after all this time, but it made sense. When she first left, I always imagined what I would say to her when I found her again, what our reunion would be like. But when the years went on and I accepted she was truly gone, all of that worry turned into bitterness and resentment. And now, seeing her here... I was furious.

"Y/N, I know you're upset, but–"

"Just get out," I told her with a glare. "I appreciate you saving me and all, but get out."

"Y/N," she pleaded, but I looked away and pressed the button on the side of my bed.

Jemma soon returned and looked between Skye and I with confusion and reluctance.

"Everything okay here?" she asked.

I looked up and met Skye's guilt-filled gaze. "My shoulder hurts."

Skye seemed to get the hint and nodded once more before finally leaving the room. I breathed out a shaky breath, before swallowing the lump in my throat and letting Jemma help me.

I couldn't believe she was back.

#daisy johnson x you #daisy johnson #daisy johnson imagine #daisy johnson x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu #marvel #chloe bennet #agents of shield imagine #agents of shield

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slashbitch2 · 4 years ago

Text

Extra Complications PT3

Previous Chapter

"Don't bother coming back into work tomorrow."

Her words had been replaying in your mind since the final encounter, bouncing round like a taunting echo. It'd only been a week since you'd stopped working at Alchemex, yet had felt like a lifetime of boredom and fatigue. With no job or persistent villain to chase after, if you could even call Liv a villain anymore, there was no reason to get out of bed in the morning, nothing to stop you from moping around your apartment. The days blended into what felt like one long sick day, disregarding the occasional break to rescue a cat stuck in a tree.

Although, your only sickness was of the mind. Whenever you attempted to get some rest, your thoughts would inevitably drift to Liv; the cold, distanced tone to her voice, the look of betrayal in her eyes, how empty the week had felt without her. By the third night plagued with insomnia, you were starting to accept that your feelings towards her may be more than a simple crush. On the eighth night, you decided you ought to do something about it and began to formulate a plan.

Entering the building like you were still an employee would be almost impossible since anyone who left their job was rarely welcomed back with open arms. It'd also be better to avoid the security and CCTV cameras, which you'd learnt used face recognition technology. And finally, locating a security card would pose a potential problem, as walking round the facility until you happened to stumble across a janitor to steal from was unfortunately no longer a possibility. So, what was the solution to all your problems? Vents.

Which is how you found yourself scouring over blueprints like a cliched protagonist from a bygone age movie, but at least the irony hadn't escaped you, and thankfully laboratories generally required a great deal of ventilation, so you had multiple routes memorised by the time the bus had arrived at Alchemex. You'd spent the entire journey on edge, fearful that any fellow passenger might accost you for looking so suspicious. But apparently an agitated figure buried beneath a pile of blueprints wearing a spider-suit underneath a jumper was normal enough to be ignored.

Nonetheless, stepping onto the concrete ground of the car park was a relief which inspired a tad more optimism. Moreover, leaving the burdening stacks of blueprints behind further alleviated some of your anxiety. It felt like a final confirmation that this was your one and only chance, and you weren't about to mess it up. Even as the building loomed over you casting a shadow of uncertainty, nothing could discourage your determination.

There was the remarkable sense that you didn't belong here, though it was a familiar sensation. One that persuaded you to tug the mask over your head before darting toward the edge of the car park. It was your belief that as long as you stuck to the outskirts of the facility, few would pay you any attention while you were out in the open. Therefore allowing you to manoeuvre into position and take the quickest passage straight to Liv's office. Which is exactly what you did.

The first stretch of the vent system was a straight drop, a narrow plunge that went on for longer than anticipated. Like a slide with no angle of inclination and a lot less fun. You hit the metal base with an ungraceful clang, certain that your legs would've buckled upon impact had it not been for the lack of space to do so. Overall an uncomfortable start. The remainder of the journey was a lot of crawling and muscle cramps, your only incentive being the occasional grate to peer down which reassured you that your destination was drawing nearer. Everything was going to plan.

Until you heard her.

Olivia's voice rung clear as if from a dream. It stood out from the general ruckus, initially leading you to believe you were hallucinating, that it was some kind of audible mirage. Yet you refocused your senses and it didn't go away. She was almost directly below you, separated simply by a thin layer of metal. With renewed ambition, you crawled toward the nearest grate as quickly and quietly as possible, frantically lowering your head to find the perfect angle, all just to catch a glimpse of her.

"What do you mean the program hasn't worked?" Liv pinched the bridge of her nose, her words laced with an an uncharacteristic anger. You'd never known her to be an irritable person, she loved her job and every challenge that came with it. Was she uptight? Sure. Passionate? Undeniably. But never angry.

"I've tried rerunning and rewriting parts of the code. And it just doesn't work!" Some poor employee (Mark, if you remembered correctly) was fighting for his dignity below. You could see he was flushing, wildly flailing his hands around as he tried to justify his mistake.

"You've rewritten part of it?!" She repeated, volume rising in frustration.

"I- I thought I knew how to fix it."

"I told you not to mess with my work." She growled, stepping closer.

"With all due respect," He didn't back down, clearly caught off guard and unsure how to deal with an irritated Liv. "it's actually Y/N's work."

Upon hearing your name, you ducked out of view as if you'd been seen. Although, it was evident that this was not the case, so slowly you edged forward to peer down at them once more.

Liv's face had dropped at the mention of your name. But by the time you'd settled back in place, anger was already seeping into her expression, then was suddenly smoothed into disturbingly sweet smile. "Well, Y/N isn't here anymore. So I suggest you keep your incompetent hands off of things you don't understand."

Judging by her vague wording, you guessed she hadn't told anyone the real reason you'd been fired. A fond appreciation flooded your mind. Despite everything that had happened, she still respected your secret enough to keep it. You begun to consider that maybe Liv cared about you as much as you did her. Why else would she lie on your behalf?

Mark muttered an ashamed. "Ok." Then left to try and atone for his mistake.

Liv stayed where she was for another minute before taking a deep breath, shaking off her annoyance, and setting a determined path. You assumed she was heading for her office and were about to follow, but then paused. Was this really the best time for a reunion? She obviously wasn't in the best mood, and if you had to guess, it was likely due to your betrayal. Was it too soon to reappear in her life? You'd arrived here with the intention to apologise and make amends, however, you had no idea how Liv would react or what would happen after. If there would even be an after. She could attack you on first sight for all you knew.

No. You'd come too far to turn around now. You continued along the vent before you could overthink the decision. It would be foolish to turn around now: the end was in sight, and rapidly growing closer.

Reaching the final grate, you were greeted with the familiar yet new aerial view of Liv's office. It'd remained mainly the same since your departure. She hadn't even bothered to remove your lab coat, which was still carelessly thrown over the chair you'd frequented everyday. And Liv herself hadn't changed much either, disregarding the seemingly permanent anger lines upon her face. She was sitting at her desk, head in hand, mindlessly flipping through a folder. It occurred to you at that moment that she didn't look irritated, rather sad. Another unexpected emotion for her to display.

After a minute, she sighed, tossing the papers to one side and bringing her other hand up to crash forward into. She looked defeated, seeing her this way felt wrong. You honestly preferred the anger because it showed she'd maintained at least some of her usual intensity.

You sighed. It was time to fix this. With unsteady hands you delicately unscrewed the bolts holding the grate in place, careful to make as little noise as possible. It was as you were removing the final screw that you realised something: you had no idea what to say to her. No planned speech or prepared apology, you'd resigned to hoping for a spontaneous burst of thoughtfulness in the moment. You sat there for a minute, fidgeting with one of the screws while attempting to come up with what you would say. Should you start by apologising for breaking in, or for lying to her, or for applying to the job in the first place? You had a lot of things to apologise for.

And unfortunately, the chance to think it through any further was taken from you as the screw slipped out of your hand. You gasped watching it fall, hitting the ground with an faint thud. Although quiet enough for most people to ignore, you knew Liv was too thorough to not investigate. And as expected, following your sharp intake of breath was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then footsteps gradually approaching.

Liv appeared below you, bending down to inspect the screw before glancing up. Her eyes locked with yours through the mask and widened in shock.

"Hey." The casual tone to your voice sounded forced and you grimaced. But rather than dwelling on it, you dropped from the exposed hiding place and pulled off your mask. You smiled awkwardly, eyes scanning and overanalysing her reaction.

Liv stepped back to lean on the desk for support. Her mouth was agape, but otherwise her face was worryingly blank.

"If this is a bad time I can come back later."

Still no response. The room was drowning in a tense silence.

"Well, actually I probably can't come back." With no social cues to interact with, you began to ramble aimlessly. "I'm guessing you'll find a way to patch that particular security breach." You gestured up to the gap in the ceiling and laughed lightly. "Sorry about that. I didn't know how else to-"

You're cut off as Liv moves impossibly fast, grabbing your shoulders and shoving you backwards against the wall. A thousand different thoughts run through your mind at once, all wondering what she's about to do. The majority are focused on the possibility that she's going to hurt you in some way, although, even if she did have the intention to cause harm, you wouldn't fight back. You were tired of conflict, especially when it involved Liv.

She was standing close, breathing heavily and saying nothing. You couldn't help but let your eyes flicker down to her lips, the temptation to kiss her becoming increasingly vehement. So instead you forced your attention up to her eyes, which held an air of confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was deep, full of unvoiced emotions.

You licked your lips, glancing at her mouth one last time. "I came here to apologise. I didn't mean for any of this to go so far."

"You're lying." She backed away slightly and you immediately missed the proximity.

"I'm not! I just-" You stuttered, then admitted in a quieter voice. "I never meant to hurt you."

She inhaled shakily and swallowed, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat. "And?"

"And because I care about you too much to let you think I did any of this on purpose." You lowered your head, her invasive glare becoming overwhelming.

Soft fingers firmly gripped your chin, compelling you to look up. Her eyes displayed distrust, confusion which you suddenly feel the need to wipe away. You wanted to make your affection for her clear, but found yourself annoyingly speechless. All the recurring thoughts and confined confessions that had been plaguing you for a week suddenly gone from your mind. You were infuriatingly at a loss for words. Although, the warmth of her fingers against your skin reminded you that actions speak louder than words.

You leant in slowly, giving her sufficient time to stop you. She didn't move so you kissed her lightly at first, searingly next. Your arm shifted to wrap around her back tentatively and she moaned faintly in response. Although, it wasn't until you allowed her to take control that any remaining anger dissipated. At that point the kiss became bruising, her hold on you tightening as a wave of shared desperation rolled over the both of you. Before the desperation could reach its peak, however, you separated from her.

Liv was almost panting, her cheeks tinged pink and hair a mess. She promptly attempted to kiss you again, though you dodged the advance and she whined. Her mouth latched onto your neck, sucking at the skin there.

Your head fell back against the wall, dizzy from lust. "Does this mean I can have my job back?" You quipped, running a hand through your hair.

"Depends." She murmured in between kisses. "Do you have anymore secrets?"

"None that I can think of." You smiled, the prospect of returning to what you'd come to consider as normality was an appealing one. Of course there were things you would need to work through with Liv, and many, many extra complications alongside having a relationship with your boss. But nothing easy was ever worthwhile, and Liv was living proof of that.

"Alright. You're hired."

#olivia octavius x reader

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mm2305 · 4 years ago

Text

All That Matters

Characters/pairings : Ethan Ramsey & Olivia Valentine

Words/Genre : 2.8 K / Angst , Romance

Warnings : mentions of death,injuries

Summary : Olivia gets seriously injured. How does Ethan react?

A/N : Hello again! This fic was written per @groovypalacehorselover ‘s request. This is the first time I’m attempting to write angst , so I hope this comes out good enough. A big THANK YOU to @romewritingshop for her help in editing this. Moodboard inspired by @potionsprefect 's ones.

Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

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

Ethan was frantically rushing through the hospital corridors. Dread and anxiety flooded his mind that he could barely breathe. There was no way he would allow it to stall him. Pushing himself to go as fast as he could to get to the farthest wing of the hospital, he slammed the double doors ahead open.A group of interns were nattering amongst themselves,oblivious to the frantic attending approaching them. A thundering voice broke them out of their trance.

"OUT OF MY WAY!", he boomed at them, as he was approaching closer.

The interns, startled by him, broke apart allowing him to pass through them. What made them wonder though, was the clear, unadulterated emotion in his eyes. He looked as though his world was slowly crumbling around him. And they weren't wrong.

2 Hours Earlier

Olivia was finishing up her rounds for the day. In a few hours she’d be home, snuggled with her favorite throw blanket, watching a movie on Netflix while Ethan would complain incessantly about her taste in movies. She had to visit her last patient, a sweet seven year old boy named Nathan.

His diagnosis was a difficult case to solve and this made young Nathan restless. His mom came to stay with him in the evening but she had to go to work early in the morning. The poor boy was often bored out of his mind, taking adventurous strolls through the hospital, without telling anyone. There were several instances that she and a few nurses had to track him down, but still Nathan continued doing that. She couldn’t really blame the poor kid. Today was just one of those days.

Olivia walked to the nurses' desk, to ask about Nathan.

"Hello Sarah, did you happen to see Nathan? I think he snuck out of his room again."

"Dr Valentine! No, I haven't. Maybe you should ask Mary. She might have an idea where Nathan is.", The nurse replied with a soft smile.

"Okay, thank you!"

She left the reception in search of Mary. Before long, she found her in one of the halls.

"Hi Mary, I was wondering if you've seen Nathan?", She inquired politely.

"Dr Valentine! I was just looking for you. I think I saw the kid heading towards the halls leading to the new wing."

"The new wing? Isn't that under construction?", Olivia asked, an audible tremor in her voice.

"Yes?"

"Oh God! Come on! We need to find him now!", she said, a feeling of worry and dread filling her. The new wing Bloom designed was essentially a plan to enlarge the facilities available for research. From what she heard, it wasn't safe to roam around the place without any safety gear. It was too dangerous to go there, especially for a young boy like Nathan, but she won’t let him fall to harm.

After a few minutes of darting around and asking everyone they encountered, Mary and Olivia got the same response. They saw a kid among these halls at some point. By the time they reached the site, Olivia and Mary began calling for him.

"Nathan? Are you here?"

"Nathan? Nathan come here, it's me, Dr Olivia"

No answer. Either he wasn't here or he just couldn't hear them clearly. The two women began to slow down their pacing steps as they carefully tread through the congested building site, all while calling for the young boy.

"Dr Oliv?", They heard a small shaky voice calling.

Olivia knew it was him and rushed towards the direction of the voice. Mary, hot on her heels, noticed him first.

"He's there!", She exclaimed, running to his side and checking over him for any injuries.

Olivia began walking towards them, relieved that Nathan was okay,when she heard a cracking noise. She quickly realized that the wall, they were close to, was about to collapse! With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she rushed towards them and pushed them away from the wall. She smiled softly at them before she heard a bigger *crack* and everything went black.

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

MEANWHILE

Ethan was sitting at his computer, in his office, looking through files and updating the information onto his computer. Truth be told though, he was too distracted by a certain resident to concentrate on his current task.

Him and Olivia have been together for a little more than three months and he was happier than he had been in a long time. She really had the power to turn the worst of days better with just a smile.

She started coming to his house after work, in fact it’s almost like she had permanent residence in his heart and place. She spent most of the time there with him, just being together. Cooking, watching tv, playing ridiculous board games she always won. It was all very domestic and Ethan always felt his heart swell with love for her, at how at ease she felt being with him, in the place he now considered a home.

Glancing at the clock, he realised their shifts would end soon but he was too impatient. With a soft sigh, he turned off his computer and walked out of his office ,towards the front desk.

"Good afternoon, have you seen Dr. Valentine?", he asked a nurse he knew she frequently talked to.

"Dr. Ramsey! Yes, she was here a little while ago, she was looking for her young patient, Nathan. He has a habit of sneaking out of his room, you see - Wait a minute please!", she paused to answer the phone.

"Bloom Edenbrook Hospital how can I help you? Mary? What?! I’m sending the team right away!"

The woman, Sarah, turned to Ethan with a flurry of panic coursing in her eyes.

"Dr Ramsey, it was the nurse who was with Dr Valentine. They found the boy at the construction site! When they reached for him… a nearby wall collapsed on them!"

"What!? Oh my… No no no… Wh-What else did she tell you? Tell me!", he demanded, his eyes glossed with panic, the usual pink hue of his face drained as he turned as white as a sheet, his breathing in short stuttered gasps.

"Olivia ... was hit worst." Sarah whispered on the verge of tears.

"Page Mirani, Delarosa and the best nurses this damn hospital has! Understood! I'm going there now!"

Before she had a chance to reply, he was already off in search of his Olivia.

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

PRESENT TIME

Ethan continued running through the maze of corridors, his eyes full of unshed tears.

"Not her, please not her! Don't take her from me! Please!", Ethan wasn't by any means a religious man, but the fear of losing the woman he loved made him pray to whoever could hear his agonized thoughts. The one person on this earth for whom he would give anything for, was again in grave danger. Memories from the last time she was at the brink of death flooded his mind, knocking the breath out of his lungs. How fragile she looked and to know he couldn't do anything to save her, other than watch her become progressively weaker and her radiant smile, the one that could lighten up a whole room, fade away. "No, don't do this right now Ethan. Focus on her. Only her.", he thought, nodding to himself while pushing the last hurdle of doors open. His eyes quickly scanned the room, trying to locate her.

He finally saw her.

She was lying on the floor pieces of rubble around her. She was unconscious, her eyes closed, her golden hair around her face. As he rushed to her side, whilst avoiding the scattered materials, he saw a small patch of blood on the side of her head.

He knelt beside her, being careful not to move her, in fear of causing more damage to her body. He took her small, still warm, hand in his and softly began to stroke her cheek and hair.

"Darling? Olivia? It's me, Ethan. Please Olivia, can you hear me?", his voice wavered at the sight of her blood on his fingers from stroking her hair and a few tears were finally breaking through.

Her eyes fluttered as a soft little gasp left her lips.

"E-Ethan?", she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Yes, Love it's me."

"I… it hurts.. I can't…", she croaked but it was too difficult for her to breathe properly, the dust hovering in the air wasn'tmaking this any easier. Ethan noticed this and pushed her head slightly back, to allow her to breathe better.

"Shh darling I know… I'm here love, I'm not going anywhere...Please sweetheart don't give up on me… please…I can't lose you", Ethan whispered, stroking her cheek softly, trying to be strong for her.

Olivia fell unconscious once again, her chest taking short ragged breaths. He pried his eyes away from her to look around the room. A woman was in the corner with a crying child in her arms, trying to comfort him.

" Hi… Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked them as he approached them.

"Nothing too bad. Might just be a sprained wrist and a couple of scratches. Nathan’s fine too, just shocked. Dr. Valentine…. she … she got the worst of it.", she replied with tears in her eyes.

Ethan didn't have a chance to reply as the team arrived. They immediately got down to work, not even hesitating to lose a minute, paying Ethan no attention.

"Get her on the gurney carefully! One mistake and you're fired!" Zaid commanded, with a fiery stern voice at the team of nurses.

"Zaid, she's got a cut on the side of her head and she's bleeding. I don't see anything too serious but we should order a scan. Shortness of breath indicates one or two fractured ribs and her left ulna and radius might be broken, given the swelling.", Ines said with evident concern and fear thick in her voice.

"Let's get some scans and see exactly what's going on", Zaid replied, trying to be as calm as possible, in this case. Olivia was his colleague,but more importantly she was his friend and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. Not on his watch.

"I'm coming with you!", Ethan interrupted their conversation.

"You're not in the right state of mind to help her now!"

"Zaid’s right about this. She needs you to be calm and focused when she wakes up.", Ines told him resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Ethan had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

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

Several hours later, Ethan was pacing anxiously in front of the room Olivia was checked into. The night doctors were there checking on her. As soon as they heard what happened, her friends joined Ethan in the waiting room, to hear news about her condition. Sienna when she saw her best friend in that state, immediately broke down, Aurora and Elijah trying to comfort her. Bryce, Rafael and Jackie, were mostly silent, their minds running through endless scenarios of what could happen to the most courageous woman they knew.

She had a broken hand, three broken ribs; one of which was pressing too close to her lung; causing her difficulty in breathing smoothly. This required a minor surgery, which was conducted by Harper herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch the woman she had come to consider a friend. Her head injury, thankfully, wasn't too bad, but there was a possibility of a mild concussion. The whole hospital was there to help Olivia in whatever way she needed. From nurses to interns to anyone she had always been kind to.

Now, Ethan was waiting outside of her room alone, because her friends left a few minutes ago. She wouldn't wake up for a few hours and they made sure she would be completely okay before they left. Besides, they knew that Ethan wouldn't leave her side. That is, once he got to finally see her.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, he was finally allowed to go into her room. His eyes glided across her small form on the hospital bed. The side of her head was wrapped in white gauze, because of the injury there. Her left arm was in a cast and placed on a pillow to make her more comfortable. She was hooked to an IV, her body seeming too delicate on the hospital bed. Her face was in a serene slumber, her body was still under the influence of the drugs she was given during and after her surgery.

Ethan took her soft hand in his, kissing her knuckles and looking tearfully at her.

"My love… You scared me so so much… When that nurse told me you were hurt… I thought I was going to lose you. Again.", He started talking to her, even though she couldn't hear him, he was baring his heart to her. Letting the tears he was holding on to fall.

"Finding you there, lying unconscious… was unbearable. Knowing that you may be gone forever, never being able to touch you, or see your beautiful smile, hear your awful jokes again… I’ve never believed in a higher power, but if there is a being that saved you, then I am grateful. Because, without you, none of this matters. You're my whole world Oliv. And this world means nothing to me if you’re not here darling", he finished , laying a soft kiss on her lips.

He stayed with her for a few hours, having no intention of leaving her, but Naveen forced him to go get a coffee and something to eat. Of course, Naveen promised he would stay there with her while Ethan was away.

On his way back to her room, he encountered Leland Bloom. "Great, just who I wanted to see", Ethan thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Ah Dr. Ramsey. I was just coming to find you. How is Dr. Valentine?", he asked with a facade of interest.

"She’s in her room resting. Still unconscious though, because of the anesthesia from her surgery. Now if you'll excuse me", Ethan curtly replied, walking past Leland, anxious to return to her room.

"I was hoping to come with you, actually. I wanted to ask you, will she make a full recovery?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, in a couple months she will probably be alright.", Ethan gritted his teeth, retraining his seething anger at how intrusive this man could be.

"Probably? You're not certain? If her recovery takes so long, then she will be left behind in the hospital's advances. Pity… she was actually going to be one of the key assets to the progression of the hospital's success.", Leland said, not having noticed or probably caring about Ethan's expression.

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. The way he spoke of Olivia. His Olivia. A human being, as though she was nothing but a tool to be used. He clenched his fists, blood coursing through his veins, ears ringing, face and neck flushed red with anger, trying to resist the immense urge to punch him square in his arrogant face.

"How DARE you talk that way about a human being who was seriously hurt? She could have been fucking killed and all you have to say is that she would be an asset to the success of the hospital? What kind of person are you, really? Do you see anything beyond your own selfish, moronic advancements?", Ethan turned to him abruptly, almost roaring, all the pent up emotions escaping him in this outburst towards this man.

Leland was stunned at his outburst, mouth gaping open for a second before he recollected himself. The two of them had become the center of attention as the nurses and doctors were forming a small circle, staring at the two men.

"I would best advise you against speaking to me like that Dr. Ramsey. I'm the one who is in charge here and I expect you to treat me with respect. Now, I understand you are under pressure right now since your partner was hurt, so I'm willing to look past this little tantrum. See you soon, Dr Ramsey." he replied, walking away from Ethan, who was stalking his way down the corridor to Olivia’s room, unbothered by Bloom’s words.

The only person in this world whose words mattered, laid in a hospital bed right now, and he vowed he would not spend any more precious time away from her. Because despite what life throws at them, all that matters is that his Rookie ... his Olivia ... his true love will be alright. They will be alright. Together.

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

Thank you for reading !!!

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spicycreativity · 4 years ago

Text

Howl - Chapter 1

Rating: Teen

Fic Content Warnings: Blood, injury, suggestive content, alcohol use

Characters: All

Pairing: Analogical, background Moceit because apparently I can't help myself

Add'l Notes: dw if you don't know what a loup-garou is or how the lore works; all is explained in the story / Have I ever been to Louisiana? No 💕Did I write an entire story set in rural-ish Cajun Louisiana anyway because I hate myself? Yes 💕 / If you're from Louisiana and noticed any screw-ups, pls correct me so I can fix it

It also comes with a playlist! For ambience, not necessarily for the lyrics

Summary:

Two things happen to Virgil Landry on Halloween:

1) Logan Doucet, his longtime friend and slightly-less-longtime crush, asks him out

2) He becomes cursed to spend his nights as a half-man, half-wolf monster: a loup-garou

Despite his new affliction, Virgil strives for normalcy all the way up until he can't anymore and everything falls apart.

The floorboards creaked in their familiar pattern as Virgil paced over them, his feet sliding around awkwardly in his over-the-knee boots. He was supposed to meet Logan alone in an hour, an hour! His heart thumped painfully under his ribs. What did Logan want?

Virgil yanked his phone out of his pocket to re-read the message for the 85th time, ignoring a few new messages in his assorted group chats:

Logan: If it's not inconvenient, could you meet me early at the Plaza tonight? Maybe 6:30?

Virgil: yeah sure

Virgil: everything OK?

Logan: Yes :-)

What did it mean? Was everything okay? Or was Logan just lying to make him feel better? Because if so, it wasn't working. Virgil ran his hands through his hair, careful not to smudge his makeup. It had taken him an hour and a half to perfect his vampire makeup in the mirror and he didn't want to risk messing it up.

With a sigh that turned into a groan, Virgil threw himself down on his couch. It made the walls rattle, nearly displacing a few trinkets on his crappy, rickety shelves. He heard a tell-tale scrape above his head and knew that his favorite painting had gone crooked again. God, this place was a wreck-- Just like Virgil. He made a mental note to ask Patton for help patching up the leaky roof. It was as good a time as any, as they were well out of rainy season, but it did seem a little rude. What was he even supposed to say? Hey, Patton, I know carpentry is literally what you do for a living, but could you help me for free since I'm broke and sad? Thanks, bud. Yeah, right. He sighed again and tugged at his medallion, a rusted old thing with a glass gem in the center. He had picked it up from a thrift store months earlier in anticipation of Halloween, but maybe he should have made some effort to restore it. It smelled strongly of rust and decay and felt terrible between his fingers, all oily and sticky.

So far, the only saving grace of the day was that it wasn't raining now. Virgil had spent his workday in silent anxiety, eyeing the storm clouds through the shop window and rubbing a small piece of sunstone between his thumb and forefinger. It seemed to have worked, as the clouds had dispersed a little and allowed the watery light of the autumn sun to peek through.

Virgil's phone lit up with a few more messages in his group chats: Roman having hysterics over some detail of his costume, Janus and Remus discussing how to avoid the small army of toddlers that always ran rampant at the Halloween parade. Virgil ignored them all. He was in no mood to be friendly, would probably snap at them. Logan hadn't said anything since his message to Virgil, which he had presumably sent on his lunch break. The question haunted Virgil, that great unknown lurking behind him and instilling a fear that no ghost ever could: What did Logan want?

Virgil set his phone down and leaned forward, heaving a sigh that turned into a yawn. Great. Whatever. That meant he was on the verge of hyperventilating, his breathing already irregular. Damn it, Logan knew better than to leave him hanging like this! They'd known each other for so long and he'd always been more perceptive to Virgil's needs than the others.

Especially lately… They'd been spending more time alone, and Virgil couldn't deny the sweet, warm giddiness that enveloped him every time they were alone together. First meetings were always his favorite, seeing Logan's face light up with a smile. He hadn't dared to think that Logan might feel the same way, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his fantasies on a leash. Worst-case scenarios and best-case scenarios dueled in his head: Logan kissing him, Logan telling him they couldn't be friends anymore, Logan confessing, Logan announcing that he had some incurable disease.

Virgil grabbed his phone and jumped to his feet. He couldn't do this anymore, couldn't sit here and torture himself. He would just leave now. He would rather arrive freakishly early than face another minute of this self-inflicted torment

He double and triple checked he had his wallet and his plastic fangs, which he

was planning on putting on later. The medallion bounced against his exposed chest as he walked and he wondered briefly if it might be more trouble than it was worth. He could always swap it out for one of his pendants, maybe amethyst to calm his nerves. But it looked so good against his skin, falling perfectly in the deep V of his flowy white poet shirt. Unlike his other necklaces, it screamed vampire. And Janus would tease him if he caught Virgil wearing a subpar costume, and then Roman would join in, and Remus, and it would turn into a whole thing . He could wear the stupid medallion for one night.

Virgil regretted this decision as soon as he got his moped going. Even at its 30 mph crawl, the heavy necklace bounced against his chest in a maddening rhythm. At least it was distracting. Every time he started to worry about Logan, the erratic tap-tap-tap of cold metal on his chest brought him back to Earth.

It was a long ride into town down a windy country road. He hugged the shoulder as best as he could despite the lack of traffic; Virgil's neighbors were few, but they all liked to take corners at frighteningly high speeds. The one person who did drive by honked at him and flashed their lights. Virgil's heart dropped and he nearly flipped them off before he realized that they liked his costume. It occurred to him then that he must look pretty absurd: A vampire riding a purple moped, cape fluttering on the wind.

Upon reaching the Plaza, Virgil did a few laps around downtown, smiling at the spiderwebs decorating Vaillant City Hall. Another lap revealed that empty parking spots were already becoming scarce, so Virgil pulled into one and checked his phone. Nothing from Logan. Just more hysterics from Roman, and Patton's best attempts at comfort. Virgil rolled his eyes. Maybe Roman did need some tough love. He scanned through the messages to orient himself, to make sure he didn't look dumb, and then typed out his reply.

Virgil: look, Prince Charming. 2 rolls of body glitter is more than enough. Stop freaking out

Roman: That's DOCTOR Prince Charming to you

Virgil: :*

He put his phone away, tucked his keys in his pocket, and forced himself to walk slowly toward the Plaza. He was still excruciatingly early, but maybe he could pop into a bar or grab a coffee or even swing by his work-- Oh.

There, standing by the reflecting pool with his hands in his pockets, was Logan. Virgil smiled despite his nerves and sped up. Leave it to Logan to somehow be earlier than early.

"Hey, Data," Virgil said once he was in earshot.

Logan's face lit up, and even the yellow contacts he was wearing couldn't mask the fondness in his face. "Evening, Virge," he said. His smile dropped too quickly and he kept his hands shoved in his pockets. Virgil surveyed all this with dread. Was he reading too much into it? Most definitely. Could he stop? No way.

"Everything okay?" Virgil asked, tugging at his medallion and turning his nervous gaze upon the placid waters of the reflecting pool. Great. Now he had two awesome reasons to be nervous. It was an old Vaillant legend that anyone who disturbed the waters of the pool would be cursed, and Virgil did not mess with curses. He usually took pains to avoid the Plaza, even if it meant he had to take the long way to work.

"Yes, Virgil," Logan said in a voice that was far too breathy. He cleared his throat. "As you know, we have been friends for a long time. I…" He paused, blinked. "I forgot what I was going to say."

"Jeeze, Lo," Virgil tried to tease. "You're making me nervous."

"But I--" Logan ran a hand through his hair. "Virgil. I had prepared something far more eloquent than what I am about to say, but I can't seem to remember it at the moment. Forgive me if this comes across as confusing."

"All good," Virgil said, making only a minimal effort to hide his confusion. The medallion was cold and oily under his fingertips, but he couldn't stop messing with it, tugging at it, rattling the chain. He needed some outlet for all this nervous energy.

"We've been spending more time alone together and I

thought-- I wanted--" Logan touched his face and Virgil realized a second later he had tried to push up his glasses, which he wasn't wearing. Oh, how cute. "Virgil, I would like to go steady with you."

A rush of vertigo smacked into Virgil with such force that he had to take a step back just to keep his balance. "Go steady?" he heard himself say. "Like-- Like, boyfriends?"

"If you are amenable to that," Logan said, furiously running his fingers over the piping on his uniform. "If not, I-- We can pretend this never--"

"Yes," Virgil interrupted. "Yes, yes, yes. Logan, I do want that."

"Oh," said Logan, his face breaking into a smile. "Good."

Virgil clenched his fist around the medallion wondering if it was too soon to ask for a kiss. He took a breath and felt something give with a quiet snap. The broken chain snaked along his neck, dragged down by the weight of the pendant. Virgil watched in silent agony as the necklace landed in the water of the reflecting pool with a quiet splash. "Shit."

"Allow me," said Logan, already in motion.

"No!" Virgil caught his hand and held it. "The curse." He realized what he had done and let go of Logan's hand.

"I don't believe in such things, Virgil, but if it's important to you, then I'll leave it."

"Thank you." Virgil stared down at the water and sighed through his nose. He'd already disturbed the water. Would it be better to leave the necklace or take it out? Littering seemed more disrespectful, he supposed. So he bent and grabbed the necklace before he could change his mind. "I'll, uh, de-curse-ify myself later."

Logan nodded, looking preoccupied. "Let me know if I can help. I might be able to repair the chain."

"Actually," said Virgil, stuffing the wet necklace into his pocket, "I was wondering if maybe, um…"

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please do."

Virgil closed his eyes so he wouldn't get weirded out by Logan's contacts. He had been expecting a short kiss, sweet and chaste, but Logan's hand tightened in the loose fabric of Virgil's poet shirt and his teeth grazed Virgil's bottom lip. Fuck propriety, then; the Plaza was still fairly empty. Virgil raised a hand to grab a fistful of Logan's hair and ran his tongue along the edge of Logan's lip.

They were interrupted by a wolf whistle and golf claps. "I'll be damned." Crap. Why did it have to be Janus? He was never going to let Virgil live this down.

Virgil pulled away so fast it made pain shoot through his neck. He exhaled sharply and covered the area with his hand for all the good it would do, turning to face Janus with a blush blooming on his cheeks. "What are you supposed to be?" he asked, looking Janus up and down. Janus had always been unnecessarily private about things that really didn't matter. He had evaded all of Virgil's attempts to guess his costume, and now presented wearing an old-fashioned suit including top hat, gloves, and cane.

"Don't change the subject," said Janus, dismissing Virgil with a wave.

In true vampire fashion, Virgil snarled and bared his teeth, then remembered something. "Oh, shit, my fangs!" He dug in his pocket for them, leaving Janus to do… whatever he was going to do.

"Logan, I presume?" Janus asked. Virgil stopped in the process of sticking on one tooth, heart hammering again. Janus and Logan had never met, and they could both be… a bit much in their own ways.

Logan nodded. "Logan Doucet." He held out his hand for a shake.

Janus took it. "Thank God you didn't bother to paint your face, else Virgil would have more than smudged lipstick to contend with. You've got some on your mouth, by the way."

"Thank you," Logan said stiffly. He withdrew his hand and used it to wipe away the lipstick stain on his face. "Nice to meet you, Professor Moriarty."

Virgil's eyes darted back to Janus, who smiled. "When I'm not acting as the Napoleon of Crime, you can call me Janus. Janus Bellefontaine."

"Where's Remus?" Virgil interjected, looking around. "Didn't he ride with you?"

"He got waylaid by some angry mothers because his costume made their kids cry," Janus said, nonchalantly running a

fingertip over the brim of his hat. "He'll be along." To Logan, he said, "Virgil tells me you're an accountant."

"Yes," said Logan.

"And you haven't killed yourself yet, so I assume you must like it."

Virgil busied himself sticking his fangs onto his canines so he wouldn't worry about the conversation at hand. A sideways glance at Logan revealed that he seemed to find the comment amusing, thank God . "I've always been good with numbers. People, less so."

"Never would have guessed," Janus said, and Virgil didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling that crooked, tight-lipped smile that might have been genuine or might have been mocking. Asshole. "Well, if you have any rich clients, send them my way, won't you? I sell nice suits to dumb men with low self-esteem and too much money and I'm always on the lookout for another rube to swindle."

"If the suits are any good, I'd be happy to," Logan said.

Satisfied that his fangs were in properly, Virgil's attention shifted suddenly to the cold, wet medallion in his pocket. Right. He was cursed. Despite his interest in the occult and the supernatural, Virgil didn't have much experience with curses. His friends weren't really the type to play around with magic (well, maybe Janus, maybe- maybe Roman) and he wasn't the kind of guy who made enemies. No one had ever cursed him before. How soon would this one take effect? Should he go home and come back? Should he hop into the bayou, makeup be damned? Did bayous even count as running water?

He was so caught up in his panic spiral that the sudden sensation of hands on his shoulders made him jump. "Fuck!"

To his surprise it was Roman, not Remus, who laughed from somewhere behind him. "What, are Logan and Janus boring you?"

Virgil looked up and flinched again. While Roman looked relatively normal in his glittery Doctor Frank-n-Furter costume, Remus, who was lurking just behind his brother, was a horrorshow of fur and face paint and fake blood. "Um…" He shook himself and noticed Patton standing a ways off, peering at Remus. Distracted, he went to introduce Patton to Remus and Janus only to learn that he and Roman had run into Remus on their way over and rescued him from a brigade of shouty young mothers.

"He's Macavity," Patton said in a tone like he was pronouncing the death of the family goldfish.

"The other Napoleon of Crime," Janus agreed. "And you are?"

"Patton Haydel!"

A pause. "I gathered that. " Janus gestured at Patton's costume, which he had also kept a secret. Virgil had been staring at it as well, trying to figure it out. Patton was wearing what appeared to be a headless bear costume, round glasses, and what might have been a cowboy hat, though Virgil wasn't 100% sure. "What are you?"

"You have to guess!" Patton said, extending his arms and backing up so everyone could get a good look at him.

Virgil stared at him, running his tongue over the edges of his plastic fangs. "I got nothin'."

Logan took a sideways step and tapped Virgil's hand. Virgil nodded, and Logan interlaced their fingers as casually as he might clock in for work. "He's Teddy Bear Roosevelt."

They all groaned. "Good work, Pat," Virgil said begrudgingly.

"You have a big wet spot on your crotch," Remus pronounced, pointing at Virgil.

Janus raised his eyebrows, turning to Virgil with undisguised schadenfreude, but Logan stepped in before anyone could say anything. "It's water. He dropped his necklace in the reflecting pool."

"Well," said Patton, "that's not good."

"You dropped something in the reflecting pool and didn't immediately run for the nearest source of running water?" Janus asked. He looked from Virgil to Logan, then to their intertwined fingers and grinned. "Ah. More pressing matters at hand?"

"Maybe it's not too late," Roman said, drumming his acrylic nails against his thigh. "We can still dump him in the bayou."

"There's alligators in there!" Virgil said. "Fuck that. You know my house is plastered with wards. I'm sure I can make it through one evening."

"Your funeral," said Remus, leering. "Let me know if your dick falls

off.

Despite his friends' concern, Virgil had a wonderful evening. Logan stuck close the whole night through, and they even snuck a few kisses here and there like infatuated teenagers. Each one sent a lightning thrill down Virgil's spine and made him want a dozen more. His friends noticed in turns and either teased or cooed, but each reaction was encouraging.

Logan kissed him goodbye at the end of the night and he practically floated back to his moped. He was so caught up in his daydreams that he only remembered the curse when he caught sight of the nazar hanging on his kitchen wall. Cursing under his breath, Virgil went to his bookshelf and began to compile a few methods of curse-breaking. Did a shower count as running water? God help him, he was not getting in the bayou. Maybe he could combine methods.

A few moments later, Virgil had everything set up in the bathroom. He lit the last candle, tightened the herb sachet around his neck, and stepped into the shower. Okay, time to focus. He was washing himself free of the curse and wouldn't it be nice if Logan were here? Logan didn't believe in magic and his clear-headed confidence would undoubtedly make Virgil feel better, too-- Focus! Wash away the curse. Logan would probably help him if he asked, helping Virgil set up the crystals and making sure his candles stayed lit-- Virgil! The curse! Wash away the curse.

The bathroom smelled of candles, incense, and herbs. Almost like Virgil's workplace, except that Virgil was using lavender and his boss preferred nag champa.

He stepped out of the shower and inhaled deeply, letting the mixture of scents relax him and draw him toward sleep.

#sanders sides #analogical #sanders sides fanfic #spicypost #spicywrites #spicywrites howl #Spotify

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 5 years ago

Text

Dating a tattoo artist

Imagine: being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

This was a fun idea I had. I hope you like it. Enjoy ❤️

Victor Creed

-he is here for it

-since his loooooonnnnggg life is well long he loves to tells stories of tattoo artists he met Japan, Brazil, New York, New Zeland...

-and you can bet that he will have the most elaborate tattoo you can think of since he said so

'You want a tattoo? From me?'

'Yes, I trust you.'

'That's the problem, Vic, you could end up with a dolphin tattoo on your arm.'

'.... Well... I still trust you?'

-after that, he was a little bug just to be on your good side which you took full advantage of

Being on top, commanding him? Sure

Handing you the remote even though it's next to you? Of course

Helping you choose an outfit even though you are indecisive and he has a short fuse? Hell yeah.

-when the day came you tattooed him a small quote that described him

"Tough times never last but tough people do"

(Robert H. Shuller)

'I love it. Thank you kitten.'

Loki Laufeyson

-Since he was in the cell for most of his life (in my universe that's the worst thing happening for him, he didn't die nor his mother) he doesn't know what a tattoo artist is he thinks that's an alternative art form he is supportive

-after you talk to him describing the definition of tattoos and the art behind it he is very much perplexed

'So mortals pay you to pierce their skin with black ink to paint...something????'

'Tattoo something on their skin and yes.'

'With pain in mind?????'

'Yes, and it looks awesome.'

-when he heard the story of your tattoo shop he decided to tag along to see the magic

-he saw how men and women tattooed others while they squirmed in their seats he chuckled at the sight of it

'Darling you could have told me.'

'What?'

'You torture people with the needle machines and coax them into paying you. Brilliant.'

'Suree~~~~'

-he stayed with you to help you with the pain giving without a medical license

'I'm a God. I'm above it.'

'No one is above the Inspection.'

Thor Odinson

-since his depression and weight gain he is very much informed of the world of MTV tattoo show "How far is tattoo far?"

-so he very much thinks that tattoos are a stamp of disgrace

-and keeping that in mind he is frazzled why are you doing a job like that

'You are a shame barer?'

'Shame-what...? Thor! I'm not. The show is a disgrace to the tattoo world.'

'Shame~~barer~~~'

'Just come with me and spend one day and see it for yourself.'

-Thor is reluctant much to his words but still, you sat him down in the waiting lobby he chats up the customers a.k.a big muscular dudes that are already tattooed from the neck down

'So... what is your shame? What horrible deed have you done to come here?'

'Excuse me!?'

'You must be here to condemn your shame by immortalizing it with a flesh sticker.'

-at this point, the muscle dude stood up ready to attack Thor but you intervene quickly

'Marc, stop!'

-the man turned around hiding his tight fist behind his back

'Y/n, already done? That's fast.'

'Marc, you know that you were released 7 months ago and you are still on parole. Come on. Stop it.'

'He insulted me and-and my tattoos. Your tattoos. You know how am about your work.'

-Thor hears that as stands up grabbing Marc's arm examining the tattoos in amazement

'My darling, I want that felsh sticker as he has.'

'.......... Sure........ Wait here. Let's go, Marc. I need to vent.'

Steve Rogers

-Steve knows what tattoos are since he has seen the stick and poke of his fellow soldiers but never a photorealistic tattoo in your portfolio

-he is very much intrigued how you made that look like a real person on someone's skin knowing very well there is no eraser

-loves to ask how do you achieve such colors that simply jump out or how you make a fabric that of a shirt or some patterns, he is armed with questions

-and since he is an art wizard himself he loves to have a painting duel with you, you paint on his skin with watercolors and he paints on the canvas

-that's one of his favorite moments

'What did you draw?'

'A dolphin kissing a penguin.'

'What?!'

'Just kidding I painted the building in Brooklyn where you lived.'

'Did I tell you how much I love you?'

Bucky Barnes

-this man thrives to see you fulfill your dream and passion

-especially when he picks you up, he parks the car exiting it and walking in seeing you talk to your employees and customers exchanging stories and laughs even though in the near distance is the buzzing sounds of the machine guns

-you see him and grab his hand giving him a peck on his lips as a cheeky grin is stuck on his face

-as you talk about your day he always asks the question

'Were there any wusses?'

-alluding to men who cried out form the stinging pain, eventually tapping out to take a break

'Yes, a big dude Marc. Ordered a neck tattoo with details. Tapped out in 15 minutes.'

'I knew it!'

-he enjoys in the hilarious stories you can make up... I mean tell

Bruce Wayne

-you already know the drill he has money he will give it to you but politely delined

-he tried to help with purest of heart but still, the answer was no

-he loved to see your shop filled with many customers as he walked incognito, sunglasses and a cap saying he wasn't a private appointment with the head tattooer

-Let's just say you were pretty much in tears of laughter as he reveled his face

'At least you tried, Bruce.'

-he loves to talk about tattoos and the process of healing if it's on top of a scar

-you are hooked on the conversation and even make him some sketches

'A huge dragon on your back with black and gold lining.'

'Okay but how about initials of my parents?'

'That sounds... Better much much better.'

-so the day of his tattooing comes you tattoo in his inner arm putting the letter T. & M. W.

'Thank you Princess.'

Clark Kent

-Clark loves to see the vast tattoos so much that he wants one but he knows that his body will "absorb" the tattoo too fast making it disappear in a few months maybe weeks

-but still, he loves to see how your gaze is sharp focused on the tattooing even when HE walks that is how much you are focused

'Alrighty, Marc you are done.'

'Thanks, Y/n, you are the best.'

-Clark also loves to hear the influx of comments of your artistry even if he's a little jealous

-he loves to see just how much you are happier to follow this insane passion

'You are an inspiration Y/n.'

'Why?'

'Because... You just are.'

Arthur Curry

-you already know that Fishman is tatted to perfection and he is here for a tattoo lover as well

-if you ever have someone asking for a Maori style tattoo Arthur will be a fair judge, that's what he says

Case#1

'Why do you want a Maori tattoo?'

'Um, sir beca-'

'It's Mr. Aquaman. Continue.'

'Oh, sorry. Mr. Aquaman, I want it because I find them cool.'

'Just cool? Do you think that the abundant culture of Maori people is cool? Go home boy.

Case #2

'You want a Ta Moko? Do you what that is?'

'Sur-sure, it's a tattoo of the Maori people.'

'Ufff... Do you know how much of a meaning Ta Moko carries? Why don't you go to the Yakuzas and get a tebori.'

'They would kill me.'

'Of course, and I'll whoop your uncultured ass with my two hands.'

-you turned to the now pale boy

'Run.'

-the man ran like the wind as the Aquaman caught him easily giving him a cultural lesson of Ta Moko

Orm Marius

-he kinda has a small soft spot for tattoos especially those with a loving meaning lover, family...

-and he likes to "inform himself" about it so he asks a ton of questions even asking what kind of tattoo would suit him

'I think a small red tattoo would suit your taste.'

'I like the tattoos who can hold audios.'

-with that sentence, he left you frazzled as you google and got the special ink kit gifting it to Orm as a present for being a nice guy and not killing anyone

-he immediately records his audio in secrecy and handing you the ink

-after you tattoo the ink you hand him your phone with the app to scan the audio

'Hey, Orm. I'm just reminding you that I love you. So much. It's Y/n if you forget... Somehow.'

-later that day you doused him with kisses

Joker

-that man oozes with tattoos *cough*damaged*cough*

-and you can bet that he wants more of them he brings into your home the whole tattoo parlor just so he can have a private session with sex mixed in

-you gladly tattoo him patching up some of his tattoos he has outgrown them

'Why did you tattoo Kick Me on your back?'

'I won a bet.'

'Are you sure you won?'

'For sake of this question I did.'

-you cover the kick me tattoo with a large red dragon with green eyes

-he stands up looking at the tattoo in the mirror

'Sweets, you just got a huge tip.'

Duncan Vizla

-for him, tattoo nowadays are dumb in his time tattoos were means of solidarity with people who are bounded by the same ink and gun

-but keeps his mouth shut about it not to offend your dream even if it's tattooing dancing hotdogs

-he loves to pass your parlor when he finishes grocery shopping just to see you in action

-he loves to arrive at the parlor if you are doing a night shift just to keep you safe and in good company

-he loves to bring you lunch and watch you eat it with such content and happiness

-it melts his heart and just wants to make you more food

-but as he is present for the good he is here for the bad

-if he is somewhere anywhere you just need to call him and he is there in a minute be it a drunken person not wanting to exit or an aggressive man trying to grope someone in the shop

-he is ready to kill them if you say so

'You okay sweetheart?'

'Um-yeah...Thank you Donut.'

'Nonsense. That's my duty.'

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highpriestofpalkism · 5 years ago

Text

Darkness between Two Worlds -

Prologue

Please, reblog if you like!

"Darkness between Two Worlds: A king isn't enough, we need a god. Cover by: Paolo Bagnato, Made by: Arceus92 (me)"

Rick was looking particularly worried at the computer monitor. There were some rather notable anomalies regarding Titanus Gojira's journey into the North Atlantic Ocean, a few hundred kilometers from their outpost at Castle Bravo, in Bermuda, and he could not understand their nature. Godzilla had been reported in the same place for the past five minutes, and was frantically stirring in the water: his signal dot continued to shake, while the patches of colour around him, which indicated the radioactivity of the area, only became more vivid every second.

«What the fuck does that mean there is a higher level of radiation? And to say that until recently he was swimming calmly! He is moving as fast as he can! I think he is...»

«Rick! You have to calm down, I don't think it's something dangerous...maybe he's taking a tunnel to Hollow Earth...?», Chen replied, starting a list of possible rational solutions to that unusual problem.

«And since when does he become more radioactive if it moves? It only happens when he fires a nuclear beams or is under particular stress... »

«Consider that there is a very strong force five hurricane going near his location, he may have used it to clear the fog or dispel the clouds.»

«But why stand still on the spot wagging your tail? It looks like he's struggling with nothing!»

«It is impossible that he is fighting! There is no known titan nearby, and I don't think he would use atomic rays for simple preys...»

«Whatever. I'm not understanding anything!»

«What do you mean Godzilla is emitting more radiation?!»

Mark intruded into the discussion inside that small computer room: the events of 2019 had shaken him a lot, and, despite having managed to recognize the role of Godzilla within the ecosystem, he had become slightly paranoid after them, and when the titan began to make strange or unusual movements, he immediately panicked.

«Oh well, the hysterical has come...»

«I'm not hysterical! I just want to prevent that...thing from causing other problems!»

«You have to blame the yellow dragon and that ecoterrorist if the other half of the family almost died.»

«...»

Doctor Russel clenched his fists with bitterness.

«Come on, Rick, don't provoke him like this! We have far more important things to deal with.»

«Well, you're not wrong, but this one goes crazy as soon as Goji breathes!»

«"This one"?»

«Rick!»

«Okay okay...»

«Let me see.» Mark moved the chair Rick was sitting on to see the monitor. There was the dot that indicated Godzilla, the radiation around it, and the huge storm marked in yellow that was raging around him.

«Well...apparently that Gonorrhea resurrected»

«You like Sam's expression, huh, Mark?»

«For what he did, a nickname like that deserves it, don't you think?»

«It doesn't seem appropriate to me, actually...», said Dr. Chen, once she got up and moved closer to the two, to better observe the movements of the titan who had already saved the world twice.

«We're just kidding, Ilene!», Mark replied, «Three storms of a death song, the One who is Many, Gonorrhea...all synonyms-»

«Look here!»

The doctor pointed to the screen to signal a sudden movement of Godzilla, who had started moving again with energy after that sudden arrest of a short while ago. Apparently, the furious hurricane seemed to follow him, as the levels of radioactivity rose dramatically. They were proceeding to the outpost. Everyone in the room sweated cold. «I-it can't be...», Mark stammered.

«Ah, shit, here we go again...» «Ghidorah can't be seriously alive!» «Evidently Godzilla forgot a few pieces of Ichi on the street...», Dr. Stanton tried to play down, failing miserably.

«It generates storms in which it hides, it has been fighting with Godzilla for at least ten minutes, it increases the radiation levels...it's obviously him!» «Here I have to correct you, Mark.», replied the doctor. She was rather skeptical about any return of Ghidorah, which seemed impossible given her obvious death in the Battle of Boston. She wanted to find an explanation for that absurd riddle. «This unidentified entity does not emit any type of radiation, unlike the One who is Many or the King himself. We don't even know if it exists or not, if it was a coincidence that the hurricane followed Godzilla...»

«I propose to send a drone there, or even to go there to see what it is. It's all too strange...»

«With a force five hurricane that seems to get stronger with every passing second? No, thanks!», Mark exclaimed, rather agitated by the situation.

«Well, we have to somehow find a solution! All this could become dangerous if we do not intervene!» «Er...Doctor Chen ...»

Rick made a long line of concern mixed with discomfort and doubt, putting a finger on the screen and turning to Ilene.

«...He are approaching...»

«What?»

«The hurricane...is approaching...together with Godzilla...»

«Fantastic! Now let's die in here too!», Mark said desperately, putting a hand on his forehead, massaging it.

«The outpost is storm and hurricane-proof...we are in an area at risk, it is natural that this is the case, otherwise we would not have even built it!»

«Thanks for the story lesson, Dr. Chen, but as you said earlier, we have more important things to think about!»

Doctor Chen looked at Mark a little annoyed by his statements.

«Russel, maybe it's better if we go check it out...»

«We don't talk about i-»

The three jumped into air with fright, when the room was suddenly pervaded by a red light and assailed by a deafening din: it was the alarm. The hurricane was getting closer, and with him, a probably furious Godzilla.

«...Maybe it was better to be more careful with the monitor.» Rick complained sarcastically.

«Ah, everything goes perfectly as you said!»

«I never said that things are going perfectly, Russel...»

«Godzilla will kick our asses, he won't be as kind as he was two years ago!» «Oh, for God's sake, Mark, you're breaking-»

Dr. Stanton's voice was interrupted at the end by the sudden opening of the door of the room in which they were. It was Sam, pale, with immense fear in his face (as usual, I would say), as if a close relative had died, to bring bad news.

«Gentlemen...and madam, I believe you already know what I am going to tell you. G-Godzilla and a force five hurricane are approaching the base-»

«LYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!»

A very high-pitched and bursting scream, which in a few decibels would have broken glass, seemed to pierce the air at full volume, penetrating the ears of the unfortunate listeners. A scream never heard before, which placed fear in the souls of all the present ones.

«W-what the fuck was that?!», Mark exclaimed with his mouth open. «Certainly not Godzilla.»

Dr. Chen imposed herself with her voice, almost reassuringly typical of her. She was the only one who seemed not to be worried about that screaming throat thrown by who knows what: it was curiosity that moved her soul.

«We must go and see. Put on a jacket and let's go upstairs. I am alredy convinced he is fighting.»

«Ehm ... do we have to go?»

«Come on, Sam! We certainly can't sit with our hands!»

«... Ilene is right.»

The mythographer turned her gaze to Mark, almost surprised by his statement; after all, they had been in conflict for a few minutes.

«Can't I stay here?»

«No, Rick, you can't stay here. You will come with us.»

«And-what about me, Dr. Russel?»

«You too, Sam. Put your coat on and let's go.»

Rick got up from his chair, sighing heavily, rather annoyed. He swore in his mind that if it was yet another planetary threat, he would have thrown himself into the ocean. They all did as ordered, some with his times, some with others, and went out, taking the elevator, with the huge head of FeM.U.T.O. which watched them silently from above, attached to the wall of the base, beheaded by Godzilla in the battle of San Francisco in 2014. They arrived upstairs, with the saline ocean water around and the rain that beat wildly and uncontrollably against their clothes and their faces, as well as against the entire structure, against which the waves caused by that immense storm also clashed. Everyone, apart from Sam, who remained in the rear just before them, looked out at the metallic railing facing the gigantic whirlwind, still far but more than visible. The sky was obscured by gray and black clouds, while the turret continued to play the alarm signal.

A beam of blue light came out of the waters, pushing them by force and piercing the sky.

«...Well, there was no doubt that Godzilla was there, I think?», said Mark, in a mixture of fear, sarcasm and surprise.

«That was obvious...but I don't think he became a psychopath, you know! He must be fighting something!»

«Yes, Rick, but what?», Ilene asked rhetorically.

«We'll see-»

Everyone covered their ears again. That majestic and unknown cry, recognized as a battle by now, was issued again: the King of the Monsters came out of the waters violently with something white between the claws. It seemed to have fingers, and as the whole body emerged, thanks to the just dragged back covered with blue scales, it was understood that this was actually a wing. The colossal figure of Godzilla, almost entirely out of the sea by that time, answered the cry of struggle, more than supremely:

«SKREEEEEEOOOOOOOOOONGK!»

Everyone looked with open mouth, more or less terrified, at the titan and that unknown being who moved and rebelled against his grasp, still more than half submerged in the waves.

«What ... what the fuck is that?!»

Rick screamed, to say the least in amazement.

«I-it doesn't look like any of the titans we've identified so far!», Sam allowed himself to scream in the, who had now positioned himself with them on the fence.

Doctor Russel thought, and in this he was not even wrong: «{I have a bad feeling about all this ...}»

-Notes-

I'm not a native English speaker, so forgive me if you find mistakes!

#darkness between two worlds #darkness between two worlds; between pokemon and monsters #darkness between two worlds: prologue #godzilla #godzilla king of the monsters #Pokémon #pokemon #fanfic #fanfiction #godzilla fanfic #pokemon fanfiction

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in-tua-deep · 6 years ago

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I'm like, ridiculously invested in the Lumberjack lesbian mom au, so I have a question and an idea that bounces off the question. Does she know they have powers? And then what if they were in the city and she (or some other probably child civilian) gets trapped in like... A burning building or something, and Five gets her out but people see him and Reginald actually does show up, following the rumors of potential Umbrella Academy kids so Ellie gets to make good on her threat😂

She does! But not at first, they keep that under wraps because they assume that if she figures out they’re The Umbrella Academy then she’ll send them back oof and they have Vanya’s inclusion to throw off the scent as well because there’s six umbrella academy kids and seven of them

but i mean Ellie wasn’t exactly born yesterday one of these little sucker’s name is Five and sometimes they call each other by numbers or - on rare occasions - their hero names (usually only when they’re sniping at one another but Luther occasionally does it out of habit)

and these kids have weird trauma that pops up oddly. Like the fact that when Ellie is first getting everyone dinner she expects them to be,, you know,,, kids. Descend upon the food like a pack of ravenous wolves. They’re seven thirteen-year-olds they might as well be feral little gremlins regarding food they’re still growing. But nope they all very quietly pile around Ellie’s shitty table where they had to drag in like four chairs from various spots around the house into a mishmash pile and quietly wait as Ellie piles food on her own plate and she’s like “??? what are y’all waiting for???” and ben just blinks and looks at her oddly and is like “uhhh you haven’t given us permission to eat?” and ellie is just like “shit chow down kids y’all don’t need permission” but they’re all still hesitant and luther is like “how,, how much are we permitted” and ellie is just “????? i mean make sure your siblings get some but if there’s any left and you’re still hungry you can always go back for seconds”

just klaus being wide eyed and all “What’s seconds?? wait you’re telling me that after we’re done we can go back and get MORE food? just like that?” and ellie’s heart is breaking and also she’s mentally looking at her budget again about feeding seven ravenous children and figuring she’ll teach the kids to fish and what in the forest is edible

(she’ll figure out soon enough the kids already know, they’ve been living in the forest for a while before they came upon her and she adopted them, so ellie won’t have to worry too hard about feeding them when they come home with buckets full of blackberries and mud on their clothes)

but the point is that she’s pretty sure your average 13 yr old can’t help with the lumber with the amount of ease that Luther shows. She’s also pretty sure that the way the kids keep squirreling Vanya off into the woods is pretty suspect and so are the patches of woods where the trees are blown down like a localized tornado. Plus it’s hard not to notice that sometimes Five will go off in one direction and show up in another place entirely.

they think they’re being so sneaky about it

it’s probably five that gives it up in the end

they’re all gathered in front of the tv watching a movie with songs and dancing. Let’s say footloose because why not. Allison adores movies and dancing and all of that and will often make her siblings dance with her along with the characters and so they all have the furniture shoved back against the walls as they goof around. Ellie is sitting on the couch and Klaus is trying to teach her how to knit to no avail (he’s just much better at it than she is, she just doesn’t have the patience for this kind of thing - but then again she’d thought the same of Klaus but he seems to enjoy having something to keep his hands busy when he’s sitting with Clyde sprawled across his lap)

someone moves wrong and stumbles into someone else and they trip and hands go flailing and Five flinches but he’s had training at avoiding projectiles pounded into his head (and his flesh, bruises upon bruises and blood dripping down his lip) and so he does what comes naturally to him - he jumps before Diego can crash into him. Not far, just a few feet to the left as Diego crashes to the floor, but they all freeze because Five jumped

in front of Ellie

and Ellie is scowling at her knitting which she’s pretty sure she dropped a few stitches fucking somewhere and she isn’t sure where but she barely looks up she’s just like “No powers in the house” and jabs at something with a needle that might be picking up a stitch but might also be losing another one?

“What?” Allison blurts out, echoes by the others

Ellie looks up, “I mean, I don’t mind you kids using them out in the woods or anything but shit’s breakable in the house and we’re on a budget. We can negotiate when you’re older if you like.”

“you KNOW?” Diego asks, wide eyed and somewhat alarmed

“Diego.” Ellie says patiently, giving up and passing her knitting to an alarmed looking Klaus because really he’s good and if anyone can save whatever the fuck she managed to do it would be him, “Seven kids popped up outside my house. Six of which have the exact same names as the kids from the umbrella academy or whatever. Klaus literally had a nightmare the other night where he screamed about ghosts. And don’t think I didn’t see you throw that pinecone at your sister last week. Y’all aren’t exactly subtle.”

as though it didn’t take ellie fucking forever to put two and two together tbh like she figured out about the powers way before she figured out about the umbrella academy thing. She went to town and saw a gossip magazine with a picture of them all wondering why they hadn’t been seen in public (as if reginald is going to admit to them running away) and ellie was like ‘holy shiT’ at the time

“You didn’t say anything.” Vanya says, shakily

Ellie just shrugs again, “Well I figured y’all would come clean when you felt comfortable enough to. I’m glad you’re trusting me with this.”

“You aren’t going to send us back?” Five asks what they’re all thinking, and he’s shaking like a leaf, blue sparking across his hands like he wants to jump away and is only held back by sheer willpower

“Fuck no,” Ellie snorts, then frowns, “I mean uh, heck no. Don’t swear, kids. But like, your dad was clearly a piece of shit and I wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire, let alone give him even a plant to take care of never mind seven kids.”

There’s a pause as they all digest that

“No powers in the house?” Ben confirms, because they’re all familiar with rules

“Like I said, breakable shit.” Ellie nods, “I trust y’all are being safe using them out in woods at least. Figuring out control is important, but I trust you guys to know what you’re doing. They’re your powers, after all. But - if you ever need me don’t hesitate to ask. I might be just an ordinary person, but I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve.”

“You aren’t ordinary.” Vanya protests immediately, steel in her tone and by the way that all the others spines stiffen Ellie can figure she’s stepped on another landmine. There have been a couple, and Ellie keeps the ones she’s discovered written in a notebook in her room so she doesn’t forget (don’t jokingly put luther in charge, don’t turn off Klaus’s bedside lamp because he’s scared of the dark, don’t use the word rumor in any conversation ever, don’t mention the kids mother, telegraph her movements to five before touching him, and so on and so forth and now she can add ‘don’t use the word ordinary’ to the list as well), “You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met.”

There’s another lull.

“What happens if we do use them? In the house?” Five asks, voice so very quiet that it’s almost lost as Kevin Bacon loudly says something to the Preacher on screen.

and Ellie has to think about that, because she hasn’t really imposed any actual rules on the kids outside of like,, normal ones. Please be back before dark. Make sure everyone has something to eat, you can always go back for more if you’re still hungry. Pick up after yourself. The usual. And really, what can she do to punish a bunch of superpowered children, anyway?

So Ellie grins at them, “Then Clyde gets to sleep with me for the night.”

Immediately the tension is broken as the kids protest and cluster around to grab at Clyde dramatically. Clyde snorts awake but gives his tail some thumps at the attention even if he looks a little confused at why he’s receiving it. These days the little traitor sleeps with the kids who let him in their bed and cuddle him at night, all of them piled up on the mattresses that Ellie had thrown on the ground as they nest in the room that used to be her ‘office’

(she’s working on the extension to the house for them, but for now they have to share a bedroom. Not that they’ve complained about it, in face Ellie feels like she’s going to have to consult with them on what they want their sleeping arrangements to be in case they end up just wanting one giant bed to puppy pile on - which is fine for now but Ellie is pretty sure as they grow older they’re going to want their own spaces)

okay this got away from me i haven’t even looked at the second half of your ask

honestly if reginald did show up he’d knock on the door and Ellie would answer and then she’d squint at him when he demanded to see the children and would be like “oh hey it’s you ya motherfucker” and she’d be like “nope no kids here”

and reggie would point behind her to the family picture that ellie had taken a month ago that she loves because all the kids are smiling and laughing and ben is holding a frog and klaus is covered in mud and vanya has a leaf in her hair and luther’s pantlegs are soaking wet but it’s them and it’s wonderful and it’s her new favorite photo ever

and ellie looks him in the eye and deadpans, “haven’t gotten around to switching out the stock photo”

and reginald forces his way in and Ellie is maybe about two seconds away from fetching her wood chopping ax for Reasons and then the kids come back piling through the door loudly and raucously with laughs that die off when they see exactly who is in their living room, the front door still swinging open and Ellie looking coldly furious

even Clyde reads the mood and whines and there’s a loud growling grumble which absolutely does not come from Clyde but instead originates from the doorway leading deeper into the cabin where Marmalade/Orange Idiot stands with back arched as he bares his teeth at the intruder like the true guard cat he is

“Kids go to the other room.” Ellie says, and when they move to protest she puts her foot down with a “Now.” and a significant look because Vanya looks like a ghost all the blood has drained so fast from her face and Five is trembling and Klaus has tucked him and Ben behind Diego with wide frightened eyes and she knows the kids are going to eavesdrop but she wants them out of eyesight of their worst nightmare at the very least

Reginald is thankfully silent as the kids troop into the other room

“Clyde you go with them,” Ellie orders the dog, because those kids need as much comfort as they can get right not, and then she looks at the cat, “And Marm, you go too.” and hey her and Marm may not see eye to eye on most things but they both love the kids and Ellie feels like they have an understanding on the level of “if this ass goes into the room with the kids tear him a new asshole” and Marmalade sticks his tail in the air and hisses one more time at Reginald for good measure before trotting off as though he intended to exit the entire time

and Reginald says something about the kids returning and picking up their training pronto and Ellie just cuts him off

“Sir Asshat.” She says, ignoring the small gasp because her kids are not subtle, “I’m going to be straight with you - why the fuck do you think you’re walking out of here with any of those kids.”

and Reginald draws himself up and is like “They are my children. I made them what they are.”

“You traumatized a bunch of perfectly good kids is what you did.” Ellie says, “Look at them. They have anxiety. But that’s not what I’m getting at - though I don’t quite count buying them as being yours to begin with they’re children not furniture - but what I’m getting at is: how are you going to make them?”

and Reginald looks startled

“Those kids in there,” Ellie jabs a finger towards the wall, “Are extraordinary. And on top of that, they have powers the likes of which I’ve never seen before. And you think you, Mr. Hargreeves, are a match for them? If they decide to really go against you? You think you can force them to do anything they don’t want to do?”

She jabs a finger at Reginald’s chest, forcing him to take a step back. Because he came here thinking he had all the power, because he’s a powerful man and money talks. But not here it doesn’t. Not in Ellie’s grandmother’s cabin, in her neck of the woods, not when she has seven children behind her and the man who still gives them nightmares in front of her.

Ellie bares her teeth in what might generously be called a smile if it didn’t look too much like she wanted to tear Reginald’s throat out. “You are very lucky, Mr. Hargreeves. Because if I was in those kids shoes? There wouldn’t be anyone left to come looking for me, you know? You want that luck to hold, don’t you Mr. Hargreeves?”

“Are you threatening me?” Reginald demands, but looks unnerved. And he invaded her home, wants to take her kids away, wiped the smiles off of her kids faces and left them quiet and trembling and afraid just with one glance at them.

“No, sir.” Ellie tells him, “Just pointing out a truth is all. Now Mr. Hargreeves, I’ll even do you a favor and give you another truth for free. You see, you’re going to turn around and get the hell off of my property. You’re going to leave my kids alone, and never darken my doorstep again. You’re going to go back to your sad, miserable, lonely little life and you are never even going to think in the direction of my kids ever again. Do you understand?”

“I could have you arrested!” Reginald says severely, drawing himself up.

Ellie crosses her arms and looks to the side, where all the kids are now hovering in the doorway and watching this clash between the two adults. “Kids,” Ellie says, mild as milk, “If I were arrested would you bust me out?”

“Yeah.” Luther says, and the fact that’s it’s Luther who answers and has his face set in stone as he turns towards Ellie as if Reginald isn’t in the room. And Ellie is so fucking proud of him it hurts, “Of course we would.”

Ellie nods, “So you see, Mr. Hargreeves, the thing about family is that if you mess with one you mess with all. And I don’t think you really want to mess with us.”

And Reginald turns sharply to the door, cane flashing in the light and Ellie can see the kids flinch back and is kind of regretting not just going straight for the wood ax or maybe one of the kitchen knives or hey maybe just using her fists and going to town she’s pretty sure she can take this pasty old man

and reginald leaves and maybe he vows to return and ellie calmly tells him that if he shows up again she’ll consider him a trespasser and deal with him accordingly

and then he drives off and ellie goes back inside and the kids huddle around her and she sweeps them into her arms and presses kisses on their heads and cheeks and wipes away Vanya’s tears with one hand as she presses Klaus’s sobbing face into her shoulder and she promises them that she’ll never let them go back to their father’s care no matter what

even if that means taking the kids and running

“But your grandmother’s cabin - ” Ben starts, swiping a hand over his own tearstained face as Ellie reaches out to him

“Nana would understand.” Ellie tells him simply, “She’s dead, you’re alive. You come first over any silly little cabin, you hear?”

and that night everyone piles into Ellie’s room instead of going to their own, pressing against one another in a tangle of limbs that Ellie already knows is going to have her waking in the middle of the night sweating like a don’t know what but she can’t bring herself to protest not even why clyde hops in and so does the demon cat who she will never admit she likes

“If he comes back I’m going to kill him.” Ellie says, thoughtful as the kids settle around her, “You kids would help me bury the body, right?”

“If we killed him, do you think we could go rescue Mom?” Diego asks quietly, and Ellie is suddenly turning in bed because the kids only mentioned their mother once and then shut down entirely any other time ellie asked

“We don’t have to wait, sweetheart.” Ellie says, all thoughtful and maybe just a little bit vengeful and petty, “Tell me about your mom in the morning?”

and the kids snuggle closer and nod

and okay later when Ellie finally meets Grace she can admit that she expected an older woman around Reginald’s age not this lovely young woman with her 60s style skirt and her smile and oh she’s a robot?? okay yeah that makes sense there’s no way this literal angel of perfection could possibly be a mortal to begin with

yeah ellie might be fucked

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imaginethatawriter · 6 years ago

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Hey, hopefully, I'm not too late, I just saw that you have one spot open so if I am don't even worry about it that's my bad. Anyway. I was wondering if you could write for Steve Rogers and reader cleaning each other up after a fight and both realizing like while they're tending to each other's cuts and whatever that they're both in love with the other or something? kinda angsty but ends on a happy/hopeful note?

I have two versions of this request so if anyone wants to see the other version let me know and I’ll post it.

Warning: Description of injury

You pressfirmly against the gash on your side, feeling the rough fabric of your shirt stickeven further to the blood that is simultaneously dripping into your ruinedjeans and drying to the skin of your stomach. In front of you, Steve Rogersfumbles with the key in his hand, trying to unstick the ancient lock thatseparates you from the decrepit safe house that hasn’t been used by SHIELDoperatives in decades. The two of you are deep in enemy territory, far from anyform of rescue. Your mission had gone wrong in almost every way possible,leaving both you and the Captain injured and worn down. Though compared to youSteve looked untouched. The few scratches and bumps you could still see werehealing rapidly and would be almost completely gone by the end of the night.

Finally, thelock gives and the door swings open. You barely take a glance into the shedbefore the sounds of your enemies crests the hills that surround the small townthe safe house resides in. Steve ushers you quickly into the single room. Thedoor shuts firmly behind you and you are immediately thrown into completedarkness. There are no windows to allow the small amount of light remaining inthe day to enter the safe house, and with your pursuers so close, turning onthe lights could be a fatal error. You hear Steve shuffling through the smallspace and you want to follow his lead and find the medical supplies that shouldbe stored there, but your adrenaline has disappeared and the wound on your sideis throbbing with some of the worst pain you’ve felt. At the same time yourfeet feel heavy and you can barely stand upright. You become so lost in yourdrowsiness that Steve gently wrapping his hand around your upper arm startlesyou enough to cause you to jump.

“It’s justme.” Steve mumbles gently pulling you deeper into the safehouse. “Are youhanging in there?”

“I guess so.Still awake so that’s good.” He pushes you onto a soft surface that you thinkmight be a cot.

“That is agood thing. We can’t do a whole lot for it until morning, but we can clean itand stop the bleeding.”

“Sounds likea plan Captain.” You grasp the edge of your shirt and weakly try to pull it offof you but the combination of the dried blood pulling on your skin and thestretch of the wound forces you to stop. Steve gently takes over where youleave off and eases the fabric over your shoulders and head. Now exposed to theopen air, your wound begins to sting anew. Before you can catch your breath,Steve presses a cold wet piece of fabric to your wound. A sharp gasp leaves youand your hand instinctively shoots out to grab a firm grasp of Steve’s arm. Youcan feel his skin give beneath your fingers, but he doesn’t relent in pushingfirmly against your wound.

“Can youeven see what you’re doing?” you ask breathlessly, fighting against thepersistent pain.

“More thanyou could see. I think we have betadine and rubbing alcohol we could use toclean it. Which do you want?”

“I don’tcare what you use. Just do it and get it over with,” you grind out. Tears wellup in your eyes and your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence. It hurtsto cry in front of Captain America almost as much as it hurt to get stabbed infront of him. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d gone on a mission withthe hero and escaped unscathed. It was becoming embarrassing. He patched you upmore times than you could count and you never got the chance to return thefavor.

Stevereplaces the soaked rag with a rag that reeked of chemicals. The instant it touchedyour skin you wanted to scream. The only thing keeping you from blowing yourcover was Steve’s gentle reasurrances that it would be over soon. By the timethe wound is cleaned and bandages as best as it can be your lip is sore andbloody from where you were biting it.

Stevefastens the bandage tightly. “How does that feel?”

“It feelsworlds better than what just happened. Almost as bad as that time you had topush that barbed arrow through my leg. How do I keep ending up in thesesituations?”

“Probablythe fact that you follow me into battles you have no business being in.”Steve’s hushed response is followed by him gently lowering you so that you’relying down on the cot.

“Well Ican’t have you running off without someone to watch after you. Though maybe atthis point I’m more of a burden.”

Steverummages some more off to your side. The last light of the day has disappearedand the small safehouse is in complete darkness. You feel the cot dip down nextto you.

“Where doyou want me to sleep?”

“Are youseriously asking me that question after we’ve slept in the same bed like fiftytimes already. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. Just don’taccidentally kick me or something.”

Steve givesyou a soft chuckle before he lowers his weight further into the cot. The cot isso small that you end up pressed against Steve’s side. His arm snakes underyour neck, supporting your head and giving him a little more room. In any othersituation the position would be romantic, but in this case it’s nothing butroutine. Even if you wished it meant something else. You’re eyes are droopingclosed when Steve breaks the silence.

“If youwanted to take a break from the running around and getting hurt there would benothing wrong with that. No one would say anything ad you deserve a break.”

“I don’twant to stop. I don’t want you to be out there on your own.”

“I can takecare of myself,” he says with a small chuckle that shakes your entire body.

“I know youcan, but it’s more than that.” You cut yourself off, seconds away fromconfessing something you’ve kept hidden for a long time. Steve remains silentnext to you, but there’s a sense of anticipation in the air now that you’vestarted. “If you ever got hurt on a mission without me, I’d never forgivemyself. I just…” you cut off again, trying to gather your thoughts. At thispoint it was too late to go back. Finishing now would be way too suspicious. “Icare for you. A lot. Probably more than a normal partner should. And the onlyway I know of showing it is by trying to be there for you. Even though youdon’t really need me.” You let your words die in the still air.

The silencepersists for much longer than you’d like, but Steve makes no moves to talk ormove away from you. He’s being so still and silent that you almost think thathe’s fallen asleep despite talking to you less than thirty seconds ago. Withoutwarning his arm slides out from under your head and for a split second youmourn the lose of comfort along with the lose of a close friendship. Steve sitsup in the cot and flips himself so that he can lean over you with one handpressed into the mattress for support. In the darkness he can barely see you,but he runs his fingers across the planes of your face. Your heart is beatingso hard he must be able to feel it underneath his fingertips.

“Can I behonest with you?”

“Of course,”even your small laugh sounds nervous. “I feel like this night couldn’t beanymore honest at this point.”

“I feel thesame way. Every time I have to patch you up after a fight I think about what Iwould do if I lost you for good. And it’s never a world that I want to livein.” The two of you hang in this position for a few seconds before Stevesettles himself back onto the cot. “But I think we should have thisconversation after we’re back at base when we can actually see each other’sfaces and don’t have to worry about rogue agents hearing us. And maybe we couldgo out and get dinner in the process?”

You smile atthe question in his voice even if he can’t see you. “Yeah I think that’s a goodidea. Let’s try and get some sleep. We still have a long way to go.”

Stevereplaces his arm under your head and pulls you even closer than you were tobegin with.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #avengers #avengers imagine

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1d-sexualdesires · 6 years ago

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I'm feeling so bad about myself and I was wondering if you could write a blurb about feeling not wanted and H going on about what he would do if you weren't with him and you keep saying things like "you could be so much happier is I wasn't always sad around you" And H starts crying and stuff and I'm just sad right now and when I say H I do mean harry just making it clear but on a happy note I hope you have a wonderful day and I love you very much😘

I’m sorry that you’re feeling down, friend! I hope that whatever’s going on gets resolved soon, but in any case, feel free to reach out if you just need someone to talk to, i know how hard it can be to try and hold it together sometimes. I love you too, chin up! Here it is! -V xx

Miserable is the only way to describe how Y/N felt. It really wasn’t her fault that for the past few months things had just been going downhill, it was like she couldn’t get anything right. Harry had been really busy working on his new album, so he wasn’t around as often and Y/N couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault that he was gone so much. Some twisted part inside of her made her think that he was making himself busy in order to not deal with her. In all honesty, she was depressed. She visited her therapist every week for an hour and Dr. Martinez assured Y/N that Harry’s busy schedule had nothing to do with her, but her mind was telling her otherwise and she began to believe it. She’s not sure why Harry insisted she come along to this dinner party, she clearly didn’t fit in with these people and she wasn’t having a good time and it was noticeable. It seemed that Harry had, had enough of her attitude when he leaned over and whispered:

“What’s the matter? You look miserable, looks like you hate everyone.” He scolded quietly. She did her best to keep a straight face and responded just as quietly.

“I just want to go home, Harry. Just want to sleep, m’really tired.” She said and he sighed. Someone was in the midst of sharing some story about their vacation to Iceland when Harry interrupted.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but we’re gonna head out, Y/N isn’t feeling well.” He probably had good intentions, but she felt guilty for it and ashamed that she was taking time away from him and his friends. Either way they said goodbye and were on their way, the car ride was silent, she was staring out the window, mentally beating herself up for ruining the evening.

“I’m sorry for ruining your evening, m’just exhausted.” She said softly and Harry sighed loudly. He had a lot to say, but he didn’t want to be mean but he just didn’t get it.

“What has you tired?” He asked and she bit her lip, her eyes starting to well up. She really had no reason to feel so drained all the time. Part of the downward spiral was that she got downsized and hasn’t been able to find a job in two months. While she wouldn’t be opposed to flipping burgers or being a waitress, she didn’t go to college for nothing and really, those jobs are her last resort. Even then, there aren’t many openings available, she’s checked. “Well?” He asked and the first tear fell.

“I don’t know I just feel exhausted, I can’t explain it. Just want to be in bed.” She sniffled and he glanced over, feeling concerned for her. Yeah, he was irritated and confused at her behavior for the last month, but obviously something is wrong and he needs to find out what it is. “Like I don’t even know why you invited me… I knew I would ruin it somehow. I tried though, I really did, H. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone.” She cried softly.

“Baby, no! What are you on about? I invited you because you’re my girlfriend and I wanted you there. I’ve been a little busy, just wanted to spend the evening with you.” He stated firmly and she didn’t say anything else, so he just left her alone, he didn’t want to push her right now.

When they finally got home he just watched as she trudged off to their bedroom and heard her start the shower. He didn’t like seeing her so upset, so he started up some tea to have ready for her when she was done with her shower and he waited, sitting at the edge of the bed, her favorite movie ready to go so that they could have a cuddle.

“Hey babe, we can still have a night in? S’only nine.” He said smiling, as she emerged, hair wet and body drowning in a hoodie, “I made some tea and I have your favorite movie up so we can snuggle.” He offered and she smiled softly.

“M’not really in the mood for a film, just need to sleep, Har. That’s real sweet of you though.” She said peeling back the sheets and slipping into bed. That was the last straw, he didn’t like to get angry but he was going insane.

“What is wrong with you? You don’t want to be at dinner, so I bring you home to spend time together, you don’t want to do that either. You’ve been sleeping nearly half the day for two whole weeks! I can’t deal with you like this! It’s so upsetting and irritating, I just I can’t deal with this anymore, Y/N.” He said seriously, her body was shaking with sobs as she slowly sat up from beneath the bed covers. He didn’t deserve this.

“Then don’t. You don’t deserve this, Harry. There’s just a lot going on and all I seem to do is bother you and make you sad all the time because I can’t get my shit together. Maybe you could be happy if you didn’t have someone like me in your life.” She was hiccuping, tears flowing freely. Harry’s heart had sunk to his tummy, making a heavy knot in his throat bob up and down.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked carefully and she shrugged.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be together. All I do is drag you down! You can’t even have a dinner with your fucking friends without me ruining everything! I don’t deserve you.” She faded to a whisper, “M’just a huge fuck up.” She mumbled as she sprang out of bed and into the closet, bringing out a duffle bag and he shot straight up.

“What are you doing?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I’ll go, I won’t be a burden anymore.” She cried as she threw open her drawers and he watched in confusion as she just stuffed things into the bag on the bed.

“Baby, please stop.” He pleaded, tears running down his face at the prospect of losing her, “Did I do something?” He asked desperately and she just walked back to the drawers and he stood in the way, “Babe, Y/N, please just talk to me. Please, I love you. I love you so much, whatever I did-”

“S’not you. You’re perfect. It’s me. I’m a fucking mess. First my fucking car breaks down and then I lose my job so I can’t fucking get it fixed and all this shit involving that is just a lot! I’ve been looking for work for two months and there’s nothing, Harry. Literally, nothing! All this frustration I have is getting to you and you’re just not around anymore or always busy. I know you’re trying to avoid me, I would too. Like I just- I feel like I’m making your life miserable and I refuse to do that to you. I’m ruining everything, s’my fault.” She hiccuped through her sobs and he just wrapped his arms around her tightly, her tears soaking through his shirt and his soaking her already wet hair.

“Baby, I love you so much.” He repeated over and over, refusing to let go until her sobs eased up, she was gasping for air from how hard she was crying and the pain he felt seeing her this way was killing him. How could he not notice it before? When she resorted to just sniffles and coughs he guided her to the bed, just shoving off the dreadful duffle bag he never wanted to see again and planted himself beside her. “You don’t make me miserable, Y/N. I love you. Yes, you’ve hit a rough patch but you’re not burdening me at all.”

“Are you sure?” She whimpered and he nodded.

“Yes, baby! I’m sure. I’ve been busy at the studio, we ran into a few issues and snags s’why I’ve been longer than usual, but I promise you it’s not because I’m avoiding you. We all have rough patches, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I eft you because of that? Hmm?” He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I just… I feel like everything’s my fault. I know it isn’t, but my mind says otherwise. Like I feel so stupid for thinking that way, but I can’t help it and I feel horrible about it. Like I feel totally and completely useless!” She cried once more and he pulled her onto his lap. He just listened; he let her vent about her car, about how they let her go, how they promised to get her contacts for another job and never did, also how they weren’t offering severance pay because of some weird loophole in her contract. He had no idea all of this was going on and all he could do was wipe at her tears with his thumbs and nod along, he wished he could make her feel better. Once again, she had winded down and just leaned forward and kissed her softly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no idea all of this was going on. Baby, you need to tell me these things so I can be there for you, you shouldn’t deal with this all alone, okay?” She nodded, “And then you threaten to leave me just like that? I couldn’t live without you! You’re the reason I try so hard and you’re the reason my sun shines and world turns! I’d go insane without you. What would I ever do without you?” He whispered, her face held gently in his large hands and she sniffled through a laugh.

“I feel so stupid.” She mumbled and he frowned.

“Stop it, don’t put yourself down. You’re so smart, Y/N. And you’re beautiful and nice and strong, you’ll get through this.” He assured her and she bit her lip, holding back a smile and he grinned, “C’mon baby, show me that cute little smile. Please.” He pleaded and she gave in. Her lips curved up high and eyes crinkled at the corners at the sight of him smiling wide, “That’s more like it. Now, onto more serious things.” He said and she nodded, “Take your time, find something that works for you, that makes you happy. I know you don’t like it much, but I love the idea of taking care of you in every aspect. You’re my girlfriend and roomie, s’not mooching or freeloading, okay?” He stated and she huffed, but nodded. “I’m serious, baby. I know you work hard to contribute, what’s two months compared to all the lovely things you’ve done for me for two years?” He asked and she smiled again.

“You’re literally the best human in the world and I love you so, so much.” She said softly kissing him gently and he kissed back, but with a little more oomph to get his point across.

“I love you.” He mumbled against her lips.

“S’it too late for tea and a movie with you?” She asked in a small voice and he shook his head, smiling softly.

“S’never too late to spend time with you, my love.”

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hot-mysticc-mess-blog · 7 years ago

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I love your blog and I was wondering if you could write a headcanon for the RFA+V&Saeran when they see MC who they broke up with for something in the past. Like they miss her and want her, so how would they try to win her back. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit confusing.

My Masterlist

Zen

His contract to keep your relationship quiet, a new fantastic role, a rough patch he knows, in hindsight, was his fault.

He doesn’t really remember but he thinks your last argument was something about fish-shaped bread? How stupid.

It was awkward for a while. Zen used to leave the chatroom anytime you showed up, until you offered to leave in his place

He felt so guilty about it that he always stuck around, lamenting logging into the chatroom in case he found himself trapped watching you chat happily with everyone else

You seemed like you were doing so well

Even after that, the two of you ignored each other for the most part

He texted Yoosung party guest suggestions and made the poor boy ask in Zen’s place, even though he knew you were too nice to turn down a guest just because the suggestion came from your ex

He mellowed out as things got better in his career. He found a new girlfriend. She was pretty, and content with anything she could have of him, even if that did not include his love.

But you still saw each other at the party, and he was still absolutely taken with you

He caught himself staring, his eyes following as you moved throughout the room

A few drinks later and he was itching to touch you, kiss you, beg for your forgiveness

Would that be cheating?

Zen turned to his girlfriend. She caught his eye and smiled.

It would? Damn

His relationship lasted all of another two weeks before he broke it off

Zen tentatively starts conversations with you, notably reserved. Yoosung even mentioned the sharp drop-off in his narcissistic comments.

He spent every spare moment rehearsing the speech he was going to give you. And he waited, for the perfect moment.

Could he have texted you at any time? Or called? Absolutely.

But no, the perfect moment came at 3 AM one evening. Yoosung had just left the chatroom to play games, and Zen was just about to hit the exit button when your name popped up on screen

He spewed out his speech, taking up nearly three whole screens of the chat…and then he couldn’t stop

He just kept on babbling, whatever words he could think of that might get you to come back to him.

Jaehee

Nothing like internalized religious shame to ruin a relationship

It was always something she had fought with, but over time it became too much and she gave in

She was being too greedy, and it would hurt both of you in the end.

Your break-up was a quiet, soft discussion over coffee at table 7

Jaehee already did most of the administrative tasks for the cafe, but she took over what was left

She opened the cafe in the morning. You closed the cafe in the evenings. A manager relayed any communications.

You had never told the rest of the RFA you were together in the first place, and the breakup was somehow even more awkward for it

Things went back to the way they were…except not. It was like peeling a sticker from a bottle only to find that the invisible sticky residue had been left behind.

Jaehee was professional as always, you were polite as always, but everything hurt

The rest of the RFA noticed the gloom, Seven put the pieces together easily enough. Jumin at the very least suspected, which you put together when he offered both of you vague but particularly relevant advice

Jaehee immediately noticed how much she misses your presence

Running the cafe wasn’t half as much fun without you

Sitting at home and watching Zen’s musicals was still very relaxing…but not as enjoyable when she doesn’t have you to enjoy them with

She swears even her coffee isn’t as flavorful when you aren’t around.

She found herself up at wee hours of the morning most nights, looking at the crucifix up on her wall.

“Is this really what you want?” She asked, out loud to an empty house.

She finally found happiness…why was she sabotaging it for herself?

The next day she came by right at the end of your shift, clinging to a clipboard with the inventory documents in order to avoid anxiously fidgeting.

“MC?” Her voice came out more unsure than she had hoped for. “Would you mind have a cup of coffee with me?”

Audibly sighed with relief when you agreed

She waits until the awkward silence takes over before speaking

“I think, no, I made a mistake when I broke up with you. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, that I was being too greedy by wanting the coffee shop and such a close relationship with you. I should have just spoken with you about it. You were the one who made me want to chase my happiness, and I wanted to build this cafe with you, together. My life is better with you by my side.”

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to but I…I would like to try again.”

Yoosung

The process of breaking up was a messy, three weeks of arguing. The actual break-up lasted all of twenty-four hours

School was hard, and you understood that, but he was irritable all the time

Everything that everyone did annoyed him and you two found yourselves arguing over anything he looked at

He brought your fights into the chat room, even when you tried to keep negative conversation to private texts

You suggested maybe he should take a break

He took that phrase, and interpreted it to mean something you hadn’t intended at all. “If we need to take a break, then we shouldn’t be together at all! We’re done!”

Yoosung had about twenty-four hours of rage-based satisfaction before your absence caught up to him

By then, the RFA found out from you what happened.

Zen was torn between his closest friend and you. You told him you would be alright, and that he did not need to come and see you

That was good, because Yoosung arrived at Zen’s apartment 10 minutes later.

Zen updated the chatroom later that evening, letting everyone know Yoosung drank a can of beer, cried, and then Zen put him to bed on the couch

Yoosung was back up again at three am, alone in a chatroom frantically typing out how much he missed you while he paced in Zen’s living room

Then he started calling

You woke up to several voicemails, all apologies from Yoosung

Jumin

He swore he would never let you go. Even when things were bad he couldn’t bring himself to get a divorce

Instead, the two of you separated. Though he felt he could no longer provide support for your emotional well-being, he offered his continued financial support.

The polite refusal you gave him, tears in your eyes and hands on your suitcase, made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie, hoping that would make it feel easier to breathe.

Zen spent the next week with you in Rika’s apartment, doting on your every need and bitching about Jumin every chance he got

Jumin threw himself into his work

He went back to treating you professionally. Seven made the mistake of joking about your newly single status only once before he discovered Jumin’s wrath was not worth it.

You spent the next several months trying to untangle your life from Jumin’s, knowing it would never fully work

Jumin tried to convince himself things would be okay without you. Love was a foolish endeavor. Work was the only thing that mattered.

But you had changed him, and now all of a sudden the idea of going back to a life without love, without the light you brought into his life make his heart ache.

Jaehee took over any communication that involved you, relaying any questions and information Jumin needed.

He made sure that was nothing for the first couple of months, even to the point of procrastinating on things that needed to be done just so he could avoiding saying your name

There were little things you left all around the house by accident. He couldn’t go anywhere without being reminded of you. He left them alone at first, refusing to touch them. If it was in the path of somewhere he needed to go, he had a maid remove it.

Slowly, he started gathering them all up. Whenever he would find something that was yours, he would store it in a box he kept on nightstand on your side of the bed. One day, he would send it to you.

The party came around. The entire RFA is on edge, anxious about the two of you seeing each other for the first time in nearly a year.

Seven helped you get ready beforehand. He made sure you looked great, even without Jumin’s designer gowns and personal stylists.

Jumin had never sent you the box with the last of your things, nor any divorce papers.

Yoosung and Seven had far too much fun pretending to “scout” for you, checking the entire venue for Jumin before you go inside. When he arrived, you knew because your cell phone vibrated four consecutive times with text alerts from the other RFA members

Jumin caught your eye a couple of times, you look away and continue your mingling, but the moment he saw you he knew exactly why he had never fully ended things with you: he never wanted your relationship to end

Those vows he took at the alter when he married you, he meant every word. A year of separation and all the arguments in the world would never change that. He wanted to fix things…but did you?

Jumin kept an eye on you while he networked with other guests, until he finally saw you wander to a quieter corner of the main room for a brief respite.

He ended the conversation he was having rather abruptly, in favor of approaching you with two glasses of wine in hand.

“MC?” He held out one of the glasses for you. “Would you be willing to try couple’s therapy?”

Saeyoung

He thought he could keep you safe from the agency. You were the one who made him believe that

And he could, from his original agency, but then a new agency started to recruit him just as he was getting his civilian life with you in place.

The two of you were engaged now…but if you got married, then your bond would be on paper.

He let his thoughts spiral, panicked one evening at the third attempt to infiltrate his security systems. It didn’t work, of course, but the potential threat was still there.

He pre-packed your things, set up a tracker on your phone, and arranged a Buber to take you to Jumin’s penthouse

The break up was quick. You were in the car and moved out of the house before you had time to process anything that happened.

After you two break up, Saeyoung went quiet.

No one knew if he was actually reading the chat logs at all, but the entire RFA spoke out, asking him to talk to you, to explain what happened, eventually just to say anything

Saeyoung spoke only with Jumin, and did all his work from behind the scenes.

Saeran gave semi-regular updates on his brother in the chatroom after reading the third chat log of you begging to know if he was okay. His brother’s relationship shouldn’t have been any of his business, but he liked you. You were a good person, and no one seemed to understand why Saeyoung did it.

Your role in the RFA only grew. It was rough at first, but the entire RFA was supportive in helping you get back on your feet.

Saeyoung read all the chat logs, including the messages you left for him. He kept an eye on where you were at all times, back to checking on you every 2.35 seconds in his bunker. He made sure to never look you in the eyes, lest it break his resolve.

Saeran lived with him now, but the house was quiet without you around. The twins’ relationship was still tense, but this had just made it worse.

At first, it was just more petty arguments than usual. Then, Saeran started asking why Saeyoung left MC. When Saeyoung wouldn’t answer, it became constant displeased grumbling every time they passed each other. Eventually, it became an outright fight.

“They didn’t do a damn thing and you left them! You left them just like you left me!”

“It’s for her protection Saeran! I took took care of my agency, but if we get married they’re going to be a target for anyone that wants our skills!”

“Did something happen? Did you even talk to them about this!? Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“I don’t need help. If I told them why I wanted to end things, they wouldn’t have let me do it. It was for their safety. This was the best option.”

“And how did your idea of ‘the best option’ work out for everyone last time!?” Saeran slams his hand down on Saeyoung’s desk, knocking over a long cat bobble toy you had given him as a gift. Saeran’s eyes welled with tears, hands shaking with rage. “MC knew exactly what they were getting into! You had no right to just kick them out of our lives!”

Saeyoung looks up at his brother with wide eyes. Was this what you looked like right now too? Was that the expression and the emotion and the reality that he had been avoiding?

The next day he showed up with a eleven robotic roses that meowed like cats, an IOU for a kitten, and one rose that played a recording of him saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again

The sound was awful

Not his best idea

V/ Jihyun

He was the one who decided he was not okay with making you wait

It had been two years of barely keeping in contact

Another cancelled ticket. Another stub for the scrapbook. Another RFA party he would miss, not that he did anything for the group anymore.

You had been amazingly understanding, as usual, even when he broke your heart.

Yoosung already hated him. Jumin was getting a little frustrated, and the rest of the RFA expected him to never really come back. Him breaking up with you? You were the only one particularly heart-broken by the loss.

Everywhere he went, he saw you. Greece, Africa, The United States, Egypt. No matter what country he was in he would see someone on the street and for a few seconds he would be convinced it was you.

God knows how many times he whipped around in the middle of the street only to find himself staring at someone who was…decidedly not you.

Until one day, on a brief return to Korea, when he whipped around and he swore he saw your face. Not the back of your head, not you hands or your clothes, your face.

“MC?”

You turn to look at him, surprised to see him after all these years.

At first, it just starts with an invitation to a cafe

He’s friendly and kind and apologizes for how things went between the two of you

Of course he wants you back, but he’s not going to force it. He was the one who broke the two of you up to begin with, and he has done nothing to earn your respect or love.

So…he stayed. And he texted. And he logged on to the RFA app to speak with all the members. He rented a studio and slept there on a couch in the back room while he put a life back together in Korea.

Things still aren’t perfect, but he’s trying. He has a place here, and friends, a life he can offer to share now.

He waits until the next RFA party ends, and catches you as you stow away one of the crystal centerpieces for the tables.

“I hope I’m not ruining you evening with this request…would you want to go out on a date with me?”

Saeran

The two of you started your relationship way too early.

He thought he was better now, that he could just live his life

But one day, the feelings hit him hard, like a ton of bricks. All of the progress, all of the work he did to get himself back where he was disappeared.

What was the point? What was the point of trying when it was all going to come back with no warning for the rest of his life?

He doesn’t even remember exactly when he broke up with you, because you never left his side.

It was somewhere between not eating for two days and Saeyoung checking him back into the psychiatric hospital.

“Go home already!” He would shout. You had no idea why, he had been okay with you here just a moment before.

It was because he noticed the glimmer of sadness in your eyes, or the way your expression drooped with disappointment.

Eventually, he got better. They released him from the hospital, but you stopped coming by so often.

It used to be you were there every single day, now you come by sometimes to talk to Saeyoung, and check in on him briefly before you flee the bunker.

You got eerily quiet in the chatroom; even when he wasn’t around, you just weren’t quite as bright as you had been

He missed seeing you smile. He missed hearing your voice.

It’s another night of being up at three am. Another night of Saeyoung hovering around him, like if he looks away Saeran might try to hurt himself again.

An infomercial for some terrible super fruit health drink is on, and it reminds him of the time he tapped your shoulder to tell you his snarky comment about it, only to find you had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

You were the best thing to ever happen to him

He picks up his phone, and opens the text log.

i’m sorry for what I said

I wish you’d come by more often

I miss you

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