#life is scary and horrible and i will find joy in it god as my witness | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

get-lost-in-fanfiction · 3 years ago

Note

if you still do requests for ben-centric stuff, could you do reader/oc time travels and meets baby ben in the 70s? or something similar >//> thank you! -❄️

Second Meeting - Oneshot

Paring: Ben Linus x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There’s something to be said about how quickly three years can go by. You can still remember how bad your headache was during the flashes. You still remember clinging tightly to Ben’s shirt before he descended into the Orchid. You didn’t know what was going to happen or if you were ever going to see him again. But the last 3 years have been a blur, full of everything DHARMA Initiative, and yet he still hasn’t left your mind.

You miss Ben terribly. Despite the many date offers by the Initiative members, you never allowed yourself to go on any of them. Juliet had tried to encourage you to go on some, even set them up for you. She knew it was pointless, and that even after three years you still held strong feelings for her old leader.

When Jack, Kate, and Hurley showed up you felt a shred of hope. You went with James to meet them, heart full of joy. It all sank when Kate never mentioned Ben at all, and you were too afraid to ask if he had come along. You were even more shocked to learn Locke had died, and were desperate to know how. You didn’t want to push it though, and your heart and brain was so full of shock you could barely get a sentence out.

You rode in silence with James back to the Barracks. You both had a silence agreement to not ask each other how you felt. That was how your friendship worked, and that’s how it always worked. From day one to now, it’s a silence agreement that neither of you two are okay but you won’t press for information.

You two are back at James and Juliet's house, rummaging through his wardrobe, grabbing shirts from hangers quickly. Juliet enters and you don’t hear her until she speaks.

“Hey,” She says and you look up while James keeps looking.

“You seen my baggy sweatshirt, the one with the bulldog on it?” He asks, still frantically pulling clothes together. You just stand there, looking at the shirt in your hands.

“It's in the laundry. James... what's going on?” Juliet asks, and James finally turns around. He gives a pained look to you, and you know exactly why.

“They're back,” You half whisper, and Juliet looks between the both of you in disbelief.

“I'm sorry. Who's back?” She asks.

“Jack, Hurley, Kate,” James replies, and Juliet has so many emotions on her face it’s hard for you to decode them all.

You tune out the conversation. Juliet’s expression did something to you. It shoved some sharp in between the cracks that were already there and threatened to shatter you. You were shaken from your thoughts as James drops the bag of clothes and sits on the bed beside Juliet. You realize you’ve been standing still for a while now and drop down beside him.

James sighs, “I don’t understand it any more than you do. But they're here, and I gotta find a way to bring 'em in before somebody else finds 'em and they screw up everything we got here.”

That's when it hits you, “There's a sub coming in this afternoon,” you say with your voice raised slightly and a sliver of hope comes back.

The next hours are a blur of trying to get Jack, Kate, and Hurley into the Initiative without raising any red flags. You think it seems to go smoothly enough, but nothing is ever simple. Especially not when Jack, Kate, and James are back involved with one another again. You watch Juliet very carefully throughout the day, and her expressions. You realize as you watch, that life as you know it has come to an end. God, planes do so much emotional damage.

When you get word there’s someone out in the jungle, some part of you screams that it’s Ben. They’ve taken him as a Hostile, which is not good. Your mind is already spinning with ideas on how to get him out. But then James gets word on his walkie that it’s Sayid, and your heart deflates. You’re not upset that Sayid is here, you just desperately wished it was Ben. So you volunteer to ride out with James to the Flame to see what’s going on.

Just as you expected, James turns you down. He says you need to keep an eye on Jack, Kate, and Hurley and he says he’ll take care of Sayid. You find yourself nodding, feeling numb. There was no one else with Sayid. You can almost feel hope draining out of your body and onto the grass beneath your feet.

You stand next to Phil in silence through the whole Orientation and picture taking. Everything seems like a blur and you’re not really present in your own head. Stuck in 1977 without the man you love.

“Okay,” Phil says and he claps his hands, shaking your from your thoughts, “Right on. So you guys have the rest of the day to get acquainted with your security protocol handbooks waitin' in your new digs. Now some of it may seem a little scary, but I promise you all, we are perfectly safe here, okay? So make yourselves at home. Come on. We got hamburgers. We got punch.”

Phil’s walkie goes off and you hear James’s voice through the other end “You there, Phil? We're coming in with a 14-J.”

“Roger that, Mr. LaFleur,” Phil’s replies and turns to you. He nods and you nod back, preparing to see your friend again

A DHARMA van stops and Phil speaks up again, “Okay, if I could get everyone to hold back, please, we have a minor security situation.”

James, Jin and Radzinsky step out with Sayid. You watch them all, and you and Sayid make eye contact. You’re surprised to see his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. You don’t nod or make any acknowledgement that you know him, Phil is too close.

“Move,” Radzinsky says and you can’t help but flinch as they march him away.

“I guess we found Sayid,” You can hear Hurley say and you privately think that this is going to end up being a horrible shit show.

You follow the group despite Phil’s protests as you tag along while they march Sayid down the stairs of the security office and into a prison cell.

“All right, you can hang out here until we can figure out what the hell to do with you,” James says to Sayid and you have to remind yourself his tone is just for appearances sake. You don’t understand why you’re so sensitive

“What are we gonna do with him?” Phil asks James, giving you a sidelong glance. You and Phil have never gotten along. He didn’t like a woman working on the security team, but James insisted.

James sighs deeply before answering, “Bring the man some damn food. We're not savages.” James turns and locks the cell and gives Sayid a glance before walking away.

You want to stay and talk to Sayid. You want to ask him about Ben. Is he still on the mainland in 2007? Is he alive? Did he come with them on the plane? You’re torn and want to stand up for yourself, but Phil tells you to “come along” with a firm grip on your elbow and to have to comply. You give Sayid a tortured look behind Phil’s back and Sayid responds with a sad look and a bowed head.

You win by getting Phil to allow you to watch the security cameras. He sits at his desk, pretending to do work, but you know he's watching you. You sit in one of the chairs facing the screens and just start at Sayid feeling forlorn.

You hear the door open but don't bother to look up. You've been sulking this whole time feeling sorry for yourself. Your ears perk up when you hear a young boy’s voice

“Hey, Phil,” the boy says and you turn around, “I'm just gonna go in there and deliver him a sandwich.”

“All right”, Phil replies, nodding at you to keep an eye out. Your eyes widen as you watch the boy. He looks at you and your eyes lock.

Your heart explodes in familiarity at his eyes and you're in disbelief. The boy turns and walks away, obviously oblivious to what just happened with you. You scramble to your feet despite Phil’s protests and tag along with the boy.

You two enter the cell room. Sayid looks between you and the boy. The boy doesn’t seem to notice

“Hello. I brought you a sandwich,” the boy says and holds a bag through the bars, “I didn't put mustard on it, but if you'd like some, I could get some.”

“This will be fine. Thank you,” Sayid replies. The paper bag crinkles and your throat is dry. The boy looks up at you and you smile apprehensively at him. It’s meant to be reassuring but you don’t think it comes off that way.

“Are you a Hostile?” The boy whispers, looking at you with a terrified expression. You’re unable to say anything.

“Do you think I am?” Sayid shoots back, flicking his eyes over to you every few seconds.

“What's your name?” The boy replies, and it’s a game of questions. You squat down next to the boy, ready to pull him away if Sayid gives away too much information.

“Sayid. What's yours?”

“I'm Ben.”

Suddenly your ears are ringing. You almost fall over but catch yourself on the wall. Sayid is looking at you funny, seemingly shocked as well but more shocked at your reaction.

“It's nice to meet you, Ben,” Sayid replies with his eyes on you.

It’s Ben. It’s young Ben. You had no idea he was with the Initiative. Was he the one who started the Purge? ‘Oh my god’ you think. Young Ben leaves, giving you a weird look. He doesn’t recognize you, but how could he? Time is so fucked up, and you’re not even sure if this is the same Ben that you fell in love with. Will they grow up to be the same?

You press your back up against the nearest wall and slide down onto the floor. Your heart is pounding a bruise into your ribcage and you're lightheaded. Sayid looks at you, seemingly nervous to speak. You wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway. You're feeling way too many things at once to even be able to think about anything but oxygen to your deprived lungs.

Eventually, Phil comes storming in, pulling your shocked form off the floor, and sending you home. It's dark and chilly outside. All the lights of the houses are out except for James and Juliet’s. You don't go see them, you have to go home and process this whole day.

You make it home, barely flicking on a lamp before collapsing into bed in your jumpsuit. You manage to kick off your shoes and shimmy under your bed blankets. Maybe you don't have your Ben back, but at least you have a Ben.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for oneshots!

#ben linus x reader #benjamin linus x reader #oneshots #reader oneshots #fic request #anon request #❄�� anon

28 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years ago

Text

growing pains

Fandom: Boku no hero academia

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

5 times the Bakusquad tells Bakugou they love him + the one time he says it back

(AO3)

Ashido is many things. Book smart isn’t one of them.

No really, she’s got so much going for her with her dancing, her strength, her versatile quirk, her perky attitude and even her distinctive appearance, but she’s not one for the books. She doesn’t like them, and they clearly don’t like her back.

Her grades thoroughly reflect this hate-hate relationship.

Ashido tries though, she really does- even if it’s just cramming a few days before the exams, she tries to study. Yao-momo had even gone out of her way to help, but it just doesn’t do the trick. She knows she needs to get her act together and figure this out because she can’t be a hero with a failing grade, and the anxiety and fear starts taking its toll, leaving her restless and upset.

So, when Bakugou sees the pink-haired, pink-skinned pain-in-the ass sulking in the common room, he’s horrified by the words that leave his mouth-

‘Want my help?’

Ashido doesn’t even glance at him at first, choosing to stare at the wall forlornly. She slowly looks up to catch his eye, looks around, realizes that they’re all alone, snaps her eyes back to his and her jaw drops.

‘Me?’ She points a finger at herself. ‘You’ll tutor me?’

‘What did I just say dumbass?’

‘I just- BAKUBRO, THANK YOU!’

‘Shut the fuck up and get your shit. We’ve got our work cut out for us. And raccoon eyes?’

Ashido turns to look at him, eyes bright and shiny.

‘Tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass.’

Ashido beams. ‘It’ll be our little secret!’

To her credit, he sees her try. She’s distracted and constantly jumping up and down, too jittery to be in one place, but she also pushes herself to focus, to really absorb the material. Bakugou’s rough with her, the way he is with Kirishima, but he’s generous with the praise too, or as generous as he’s capable of being. It makes him feel all kinds of gross, disgustingly soft and gooey things when Ashido’s eyes go warm with pride when he pays her the smallest compliment.

They work hard for the two weeks leading up to the exams. Kirishima joins them for every session in addition to the stuff he does with Bakugou separately, and between the three of them, they manage to cover most of the syllabus quite thoroughly.

The day before the exam, Bakugou sees the nerves rolling off Ashido.

‘Oye!’

She flinches and turns to look at him, throwing him a sheepish smile. ‘Yes, Blasty?’

He bristles at the nickname but recognizes that there’s no malice, no intention to mock, nothing really- just a nickname meant for a friend. She isn’t provoking him- she’s just nervous and falling back on old, comfortable habits.

He grunts, ‘You nervous?’

Ashido chuckles. ‘Course I am! Don’t wanna let you down, you know?’

Bakugou smacks her lightly on the head with a roll of practice sheets.

‘Who do you think tutored you? Don’t underestimate our sessions. Get in there and fucking obliterate those stupid tests.’

Ashido’s smile grows more confident, and she gives him a huge thumbs up, bumps hips with Kirishima and jogs over to her seat. The bell rings, and the exams begin.

The tests are not bad. Bakugou notes that a good majority of the papers contain material that he’s covered with the two properly, and works his way through the problems, the equations, the literature, all of it. In the very back of his mind, in a place he barely refuses to acknowledge, he hopes that they’re doing ok.

A week after their final exams, Bakugou is walking back from the training centre when he sees a ball of pink approaching him at an alarming speed.

‘BAKUBRO!’ Mina hollers, arms raised over her head as she outright sprints at him.

Bakugou furrows his brow, chest expanding as he gets ready to yell at her when she interrupts him-

‘I passed EVERYTHING!’ Her smile is humungous, wide and warm and genuine to its core. ‘AND I ACTUALLY DID WELL!’

Bakugou doesn’t even realize he’s smiling back, that feral, triumphant grin he has when he beats someone during training or takes down a villain. He’s proud of himself, and he realizes, with a surprising amount of acceptance, that he’s proud of her too. Really damn proud.

He’s a bit slow to realize that she hasn’t stopped barreling towards him though.

‘RACCOON EYES, DON’T YOU DA-‘

Ashido collides right into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Bakugou curses the entire way, but Ashido out-laughs him, her body shaking with joy.

‘Thank you!’ She beams down at him, pulling him into a warm hug. ‘You have no idea what this means to me.’

Bakugou wants to push her off, wants to stand up, spew out some curses and stomp away, back to his room.

But he’s also proud. He’s also happy for her. He’s also glad she did ok. That she worked hard and was determined to make him proud and that she isn’t going to get held back or expelled or something.

So, he blames it on the summer heat when he not only doesn’t push her off but rests a hand on her shoulder, gives her a quick pat, counts to 10 and THEN shoves her away.

Ashido pulls off easily enough, still laughing. She bounces back to her feet, dusts off her track pants and offers him her hand. The blonde looks at it, huffs, and takes it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Ashido yanks him to his feet with a strong, firm grip and her eyes go soft and warm and radiant.

‘Thanks again, Bakugou.’

‘Tch, whatever. Fuck off.’

Ashido giggles. Her phone suddenly starts ringing and she pulls it out of her pant pocket.

‘Oh, it’s my parents, I gotta take this!’ She starts walking back to the dorms. ‘Let’s go out this weekend, get some food at the mall. My treat!’

‘I don’t want to fucking do-‘

‘Bye babe. Love you!’ And with that, she’s gone, her laugh echoing around the courtyard.

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

---

Bakugou knows for a fact that Sero is 90% memes and 10% tape.

He has no scientific evidence to back up this claim of course, but he’s definitely right.

The thing about Sero is that the longer you spend time around him, the more you can appreciate his stupid sense of humour, his great taste in mangas, and his ability to make the people around him smile.

Bakugou hates him completely, or so he tells himself. There’s no scientific evidence to prove on the contrary either, thank god.

So, with his shitty sense of humour and his easy-going nature, it’s natural to find Sero with a smile on his face. Not the kind of sunshine happiness that Kirishima has, but more of a mellow, easy joy. His body language exudes a relaxed vibe, immediately making the people around him lower their guard, and he shares a love for healthy food with Bakugou, earning him the blonde’s begrudging respect.

Bakugou finds the tape hero sitting at the kitchen island on a Tuesday night. It’s past Bakguou’s bedtime, but he’s hungry enough to warrant a midnight snack, though he’s not expecting any company. Turns out, neither is Sero.

‘Oh, hey.’

Immediately, Bakugou’s shackles are up. Because Sero isn’t smiling. He isn’t teasing him, there’s no humorous lilt in his voice, no mischievous glint in his eyes, nothing. He’s hollow almost, his skin pale and his eyes sunken in. Even his breathing seems off, too fast and too shallow all at once.

‘What are you doing up?’ Bakugou asks, quirking a brow.

‘Could ask you the same.’

Sero is barely looking at him. He has his phone in a vice-grip, and he looks like he’s going to throw up.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

Sero jolts at that, eyes darting all across the room, and he can’t seem to look at Bakugou. Can’t seem to sit still or calm down. Bakugou can taste his anxiety, and it’s making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He feels protectiveness - strong and vicious and ridiculously overpowering - all the way in his toes.

‘Nothing, ha, I’m fine.’

‘Tapeface, I’m not fucking blind. If you don’t want to fucking talk about it, fine. Just don’t lie to my face.’

Sero finally looks at him, and he looks lost and scared and helpless. Bakugou’s never seen him like this, and the protectiveness surges.

‘I- I didn’t expect anyone to be awake. I’m not sure, you know, how to talk about it. I don’t even know what to do.’

Bakugou grunts to show him he’s listening before turning around and slowly pulling things out of the fridge. He remembers Sero’s love for fruits and soy and all things healthy and decides to make some Mapo Tofu. Not because Sero will like it or anything, the blonde just really likes Mapo Tofu, ok?

Bakugou begins the task of pulling pots and pans out of the cabinets and gets to prepping the ingredients. He keeps himself busy and fills the space with the comforting sounds and smells of food because he is an expert at being unable to talk about his feelings. To articulate his thoughts sans anger and rage and panic. And he finds that it's easier, even if only a little, to talk when the focus isn’t just on you. When there’s stuff going on, when there are other focal points. It’s less scary.

‘My mom is getting surgery.’

Bakugou pauses in his movements. He stays still long enough to indicate to Sero that he’s listening but goes back to work so the focus is still on the food, so Sero will continue to speak. His voice is uncharacteristically soft and so pained, and something in Bakugou churns horribly. He works more softly, so he can hear everything.

‘She’s had medical issues all my life, so it’s nothing unexpected. She gets surgery pretty often, but it’s never any less scary.’

Bakugou can’t even imagine what that’s like, to have a parent regularly undergo medical treatment and surgical procedures.

‘It’s the first one since I got to the dorms. I’ve never been this far away, and I can’t-‘ Sero’s voice chokes. He breathes deeply and continues ‘-I can’t calm down. I begged them to let me come home but they refused, said I need to see this UA thing through, do my own thing, all that.’

Bakugou continues to cook. The kitchen smells warm and spicy, and the sound of sizzling spices saturates the space between them, and he thinks he can sense Sero calm down a little.

‘I get it. I do. They're right and logically, I can accept that. I just. Fuck, this is horrible.’

Bakugou doesn’t offer any words of comfort or advice because what does he know? He has no idea what Sero is going through, and anything he says might sound insincere or plain insensitive. So instead, he cooks. He cooks the meat, mixes in the spices, and tastes the broth. He works fast and efficient, his movements practised. When it’s done, he plates up two bowls, and sets one in front of Sero, taking the seat next to him. Sero’s at the head of the table, so Bakugou ends up on his right.

Sero stares at the bowl and then looks up at Bakugou.

‘Mom makes me Mapo Tofu when I’m upset,’ he grumbles by way of an explanation. The blonde proceeds to douse his serving in extra chilli oil and peppercorns because he made the overall dish at a much more tolerable spice level. NOT for Sero or anything, just because. You know. For the fuck of it.

Sero stares at the bowl of food silently before picking up the spoon.

‘I haven’t told the rest because I couldn’t find a way to talk about it.’

Before Bakugou can figure out a way to respond to that, Sero continues, ‘I’m glad you know, is not so bad to have someone to talk to. Or at, I guess.’

Sero digs in, and after the first bite, his eyes light up.

‘Holy fuck,’ he breathes, ‘this is so good.’

Bakugou smirks, digging into his own bowl and humming in agreement. It’s probably the best Tofu he’s made so far.

‘Shit man,’ Sero says in between big bites, ‘I freaking love this. And you. But mostly this. But also, you. Like 65-35? Maybe 60-40.’

The blonde snorts and Sero’s grin gets wider. They eat in relative silence, with the occasional comment from Sero and the sounds of them kicking each other playfully under the table. When they’re done, Bakugou rinses the bowls in the sink and joins Sero on the couch in front of the TV. It’s gotten ridiculously late, but he doesn’t want to leave him alone.

Sero rubs the back of his neck. ‘I uh, I don’t want to go to my room right now.’

Bakugou leans over the couch, grabs two throw blankets from a bin nearby and flings the yellow one at Sero.

‘Play that cool documentary on speedcubing,’ he barks out, tucking himself under his own red blanket. Sero gives him a wide-eyed look before navigating to the right piece on Netflix. He gets comfortable under the throw, and they fall asleep to the sound of people solving Rubix cubes at inhumane speeds.

Shoji finds them like that in the morning and gently shakes them awake. Sero’s phone has a message from his parents, telling him everything’s alright, and that’s the only reason Bakugou forgives him for gathering the blonde in a big, warm hug before the sun is even up.

He crawls into his own bed 5 minutes later, and his heart feels lighter than ever.

Maybe an antacid will help with all of these stupid, horrid feels.

---

Bakugou doesn’t like people.

As a general rule of thumb, he dislikes them almost instantly. People are loud. They’re invasive, annoying, clingy, and they never smell good.

People are also cruel and selfish and use you as they please.

Bakugou doesn’t like people; until he comes to UA.

Because the people in UA are loud, invasive, annoying, clingy, and never smell great either.

But they’re kind. They’re smart, driven, capable, funny. They work hard, they play hard, and they’re mostly selfless. They don’t flock to him simply because he’s got a great quirk or something. Truth be told, they’re all pretty formidable themselves. Grossly underdeveloped and years away from being at his level, but Bakugou knows that with time, all of his classmates will reach insane heights. They wouldn’t be in UA otherwise.

So Bakugou tries. Mostly because his stupid squad won’t leave him alone, but he tries.

When people hang out in the common rooms, he’s downstairs with them. If there’s a stupid Christmas party, or it's someone’s birthday, or the class wants to go out shopping or to play in the pool, Bakugou tags along with them more often than not.

There is a compromise though. With a social battery as small and easily drained as his, it isn’t uncommon for the class to find Bakugou chilling in a corner with his headphones in, simply taking in the vibe rather than actively participating. There’s no bad blood over this though- they kinda get it. Not everyone is as friendly or as vibrant as Kirishima or Kaminari. They’re honestly just glad he’s there at all, so they do their best to make sure he’s included while letting him set his own pace.

Bakugou’s in one of his recharging phases when he spots Jirou.

The earphone jack hero is wandering around, looking a little worse for wear. There are people from both 1A and 1B milling around, talking and laughing in the common areas, and the energy in the room is almost stifling. The blonde doesn’t miss the way Jirou covers her ears at one point.

From what he can tell, Jirou is an ambivert. She enjoys the company of others often, but she’s also perfectly fine being on her own, with a book and some music to keep her company. Right now, she seems exhausted, her own social battery running dangerously low.

Bakugou catches her eye. She gives him a small wave and he sticks his tongue out at her, pulling the skin under his eye down on one side. It’s petty and dumb, but he sees her huff a laugh and slowly meander towards him. Bakugou goes back to closing his eyes and tipping his head back, enjoying the familiar texture of the common room couch and the sound of the music in his ears drowning out everything else.

He feels the couch dip next to him, close but not too close. Jirou doesn’t touch him, doesn’t bother him, doesn’t shake or poke or otherwise engage him. She just sits there, stock-still.

When his eyes slip open again, Bakugou sees that she’s got her hands in her lap and she’s mimicking his posture, comfortably seated on the couch with her head tipped back. Her signature headphones are nowhere in sight though, and her eyes are open and red.

Distantly, Bakugou wonders if she’s forgotten them. That would suck ass- he’d be lost without his own pair. And Jirou’s relationship with music is on a level no one else can fathom- it’s literally part of her DNA, her quirk, her identity.

Bakugou isn’t sure what compels him to do it- maybe it’s because they both like bugging the hell out of Kaminari. Maybe it’s because Jirou is no-nonsense when it comes to hero work, which he can respect. Maybe it’s because, beneath all the teasing and smart-ass comments, Jirou has often looked out for him, advocating for the need for personal space when the idiot brigade drains him.

Whatever the reason, Bakugou finds himself pulling out his right earbud and holding it out for her, a silent invitation.

It takes maybe 4 seconds for him to feel the bud lifted gently from his fingers. Jirou is careful to not jar his own earbud when she adjusts his in her right ear, and Bakugou moves to raise the volume a little.

It is a bit annoying, yes, to have one ear open to the noise around them, but it’s not unbearable- far from it. He’s got some reggae on right now, a genre he indulges in when he needs to calm down and just relax his body.

When he turns to look at her, Jirou’s got a smile on her lips. Her feet are tapping to the beat effortlessly, and her fingers are mapping out the tune on an invisible fretboard. She opens her eyes and looks over at Bakugou, and her smile widens, crinkling the edges of her eyes.

Thank you, she mouths, flashing him another blinding smile. It makes Bakugou huff.

‘Whatever,’ he murmurs under his breath. The look in her eyes could not be mistaken for anything else- unadulterated gratitude and a heavy dose of love.

These gooey feelings are going to give him an upset stomach, Bakugou’s calling it right now.

---

Bakugou doesn’t even notice the pattern till Kirishima points it out to him.

It goes a little something like this- Bakugou feels off during training, or maybe doesn’t do as well as he’d expected on a test or project, or something just doesn’t go right. So naturally, he’s in a piss poor mood.

The squad’s antics don’t do much for him then, doesn’t really raise his spirits or anything, and he usually goes back to his room, slamming his door shut and pacing around like a caged tiger.

And that’s when his phone rings. The caller ID reads Pikachu.

‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘Bakubrooooooooo,’ Kaminari croons, and Bakugou wants to break something.

‘Fuck of-‘

‘You ever wonder if cereal is soup?’

All the fight drains out of Bakugou, leaving only confusion in its place. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, I mean, is cereal like a sub-category of soup or something? Wouldn’t that make sense?’

‘Dunce-face, what the fuck? That doesn’t even make sense? You don’t cook cereal?’

‘Yes, but you could eat it with a soup spoon. That should count for something.’

‘I hate you. So much.’

‘Aww, love you too bro. Ok, gotta go, byee~’

Bakugou stares at his phone, shocked and confused and annoyed.

But no longer angry. No longer pacing about, no longer in a foul mood.

Another time, after a particularly bad bout of training, ending with aching forearms and snarls of frustration because he needs to get better but it’s not happening fast enough, Bakugou wants nothing more than to scream into a pillow and maybe eat some hot sauce.

Again, he gets a call from Kaminari.

‘Wha-‘

‘Do you ever just think about pizza and cry?’

‘Huh?’

‘Yeah, I mean, I think humanity reached its peak when it invented pizza, you know? And that makes me cry. Such perfection.’ He can picture Kaminari making a chef’s kiss gesture, and it pisses him off.

‘This is why you called me? Are you fucking with me?’

‘It’s really an honest question Bakubro. Don’t you ever tremble at the sheer magnificence of pizza?’

‘Delete my number.’

‘No can do. Gotta go, love you, bye!’

And again, he’s gone, just as quickly as he arrived. And again, Bakugou is left feeling baffled and miffed but no longer angry, no longer itching to scream and claw and break something.

He still eats some hot sauce though.

Kirishima is with him after one of his bad days, sitting on his bed and trying to pacify him.

‘It’s ok, it-‘

‘Shut up, Shitty hair! Fuck-‘ His hands tremble with the need to just do something, vent somehow, to break the tension in his spine. He doesn’t want to snap at Kirishima, which is why he never lets him tag along when he stomps away to his room after a bad day, but the redhead can be ridiculously caring sometimes and Bakugou doesn’t want to hurt him.

He doesn’t know what else to do though.

‘Shit, I- you need to leave, get out before I-‘

His phone rings. Pikachu, it says.

‘Dunce-‘

‘I’ve decided that, in the event of an apocalypse, you and I are teaming up together.’

‘Wha-‘

‘I know you’d much rather team up with Kirishima, cause he’s so strong and handsome and he’s your best friend, but he’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, will die immediately. So, it’s just you and me Blasty.’

‘Fuck right off, why would I-‘

‘We could name ourselves the atomic blondes.’ Kaminari suddenly makes a whooping noise. ‘Damn, that’s perfect Bakugou! I gotta print tee shirts right now, we’d look amazing.’

‘I am not wearing anything that matches you, miss me with that shit.’

‘I promise it’ll be black, and like, soft, with skull patterns or something.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘I gotta go anyway, but you’re stuck with me Bakubro. Anyway, bye, love you!’

They end the call, or rather, Kaminari cuts it before Bakugou can get an insult or two in there, and when he looks back at Kirishima, he sees a big, goofy smile on his face.

‘What?’ he grumbles, tossing his phone on his bed.

‘He does that often?’

‘What, call me and say really random, really stupid shit? Yeah, all the damn time. I need to block his ass.’

‘Kinda sweet though, huh?’

Bakugou cocks his head. ‘What’re you talking about? It’s a fucking pain.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t seem as mad anymore.’

‘I-‘ And yet again, Bakugou is disgruntled and confused and irritated at himself, for getting swept up by Kaminari’s pace, but he’s not angry. All the fight has mostly bled out of his limbs, and he feels more or less normal if only a little on edge. Nothing too difficult to deal with.

‘Son of a bitch,’ Bakugou breathes. Kirishima’s smile is a tad wider, and he scoots over on the bed, making some space for Bakugou while he pulls out his laptop, ready to load up some shitty videos.

‘Tell him about this and I will never speak to you again,’ Bakugou grumbles finally, settling in next to Kirishima, leaning most of his weight into the redhead.

He feels Kirishima’s chest rumble with laughter.

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Bakugou wonders if anyone’s ever tried to harness the power of feels to run turbines or some shit, because this stuff’s turning out to be overwhelmingly powerful.

---

In terms of quirk compatibility, Bakugou has found his perfect match in Kirishima.

The blonde’s quirk is perfect for offence. Granted, it’s exceptionally versatile and he can handle his own just fine, but with Kirishima, he feels invincible.

Red Riot is unmoving, unabashed, and utterly unbreakable. He knows Bakugou inside out, knows his moves, his tactics, his signals. They fight like a well-oiled machine, adjusting and improvising with ease. Fighting alongside Kirishima, alongside Red Riot, is like breathing. They almost dance around each other, and between taking down villains and conducting search and rescue, they’ve made themselves a formidable hero pair even before graduation.

So, it’s not uncommon for them to be paired up even when they’re working and interning under different heroes. They’re that good.

They’re on a mission together when things take a turn for the absolute worst.

Most of the pros are down, caught in the crossfire or too busy protecting the civilians to engage in combat. There are fires blazing everywhere, smoke congesting the air around them so much that Bakugou can barely breathe.

Riot stands next to him, breathing slightly laboured but otherwise unhurt. Bakugou has a cut on his forehead, blood running down his face, but he feels ok. Good enough to rush into battle and do his part in subduing these shitty villains.

But experience has taught him better than to run in with no plan, even when he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to rush into the action. Experience has taught him that without a moment to catch his breath and restructure the plan to achieve their goals, he’ll be doing a lot more harm than good. It’s frustrating as all hell, but he’s a hero in training. You learn this stuff on the job.

‘What do you think?’ He asks the redhead.

Kirishima straightens out his back, hands on his hips. ‘The elemental quirk user will probably be the biggest pain in the ass.’

Bakugou nods. ‘It seemed like a water quirk. We need to get her away from the buildings, away from the piping. There was also that shitty smoke user, he’s the reason the air is barely breathable.’

‘Yao-momo’s masks would’ve come so in handy right now,’ Kirishima muses with a smile.

Bakugou grunts in begrudging agreement but doesn’t comment further on it. ‘There should be three other villains, all with high-level quirks. I’m not sure which other pros will free up to help, but we have to isolate them, move them towards the construction site,’ Bakugou points somewhat East of their current location, ‘as per the plan.’

Kirishima nods in agreement and catches Bakugou’s eyes and the blonde’s breath hitches.

They don’t talk about it, but here’s the other thing- they’re probably going to get hurt, maybe even fatally. Not because they’re weak or they want to or anything, but the villains seem endless. They’re fucking strong too, and even with an army of heroes, the villains seem to come at them harder and faster the longer this battle goes on. Bakugou can feel his own stamina start to vain, and he knows Kirishima will hit his limit too, slower than the blonde but still. There will come a point when Kirishima’s skin won’t harden and Bakugou’s blasts will lower in intensity till all he can manage are sparks.

And even then, he knows they will fight with their fists and their bodies and their teeth. That’s what heroes do- they put everything on the line, for the people and for justice.

More often than not, they lose their lives for it.

Well, for what’s it worth, Bakugou could not have asked for a better partner by his side in such shitty, dire times. Kirishima’s soft smile seems to reflect his sentiments.

‘Hey, Katsuki?’

The hero code of conduct frowns upon the use of personal names in costume. You have a hero name for a reason, and it helps preserve your sense of anonymity and privacy, even if it’s pretty useless at its job.

For Kirishima to name him, and first name him at that, just goes to show how serious the situation is.

‘Yeah, Ei?’

‘Make me some hotpot when we get back, ok?’

Bakugou inhales deeply, coughs because of the stupid smoke, and his fists clench tight enough to leave crescent moons in his palms.

‘Only if I’m in the mood, Shitty Hair,’ Bakugou retorts, his voice far too soft for the King Explosion Murder hero. But that’s ok- here is only Eijirou, Katsuki, and the world burning around them. Soft is ok here.

Kirishima’s familiar belly-deep laughter gives him a boost of energy.

‘Let’s kick some ass.’

Bakugou feels, for one glorious moment, like he can take on the entire world.

They take their first few steps before Kirishima steps in front of him, blocking off his path. When he looks up to catch his eyes again, the blonde’s protests and insults die in his throat.

Kirishima’s gaze is trained on him as he slowly reaches forward and grabs Bakugou’s right forearm with his right hand, fingers digging into the muscle. It’s a firm, solid grip, reassuring and warm and so very familiar. His eyes are bright, bold, and wine-red. And they’re so full of love, brimming with the kind of affection, respect, and adoration that Bakugou never thought he’d be subjected to. Kirishima opens his mouth as if to say everything his body is already telling Bakugou.

‘I know,’ Bakugou interrupts, voice hoarse. Because he does know. The redhead is his best friend in the entire world, his person, his rock. ‘I know, Ei.’ His own fingers wrap around Kirishima’s wide forearm, gripping tight with calloused, too hot fingers.

Kirishima flashes him another soft smile past his headgear before letting go. He waits for Bakugou to catch up and they walk together, side by side, equals.

When they see the first villain, doing her best to uproot an entire building, Bakugou casts one last look at Kirishima, sees his positively feral smile, and charges with the force of a wild beast.

There are no feels there, just adrenaline, rage, and trust so thick, even concrete would crack under its weight.

---

When you’re training to be a hero, things can go wrong.

Accidents happen. People don’t move out of the way fast enough, or there’s a domino effect of some sort, or the aftershocks of one attack reaches a place it shouldn’t.

Bakugou’s switched up his training partner, choosing to train with Iida to fine-tune his aim and work with a fast-moving target. His blasts hit the mark sometimes, but not always. The gym is huge, so they aren’t really risking anyone with their training; at least, that’s how it is for a while.

But then, Bakugou takes aim and blasts at Iida, Iida dodges swiftly, the attack takes out a portion of the rock formations in the gym, and suddenly there’s a landslide headed right at Hagakure and Kaminari.

Bakugou doesn’t even think about it; his body moves before his brain catches up, and he’s suddenly in front of the two, arms raised to obliterate the debris when he realizes that a portion of the mountain had been laced with explosives for someone else’s training, and his quirk would make things exponentially worse. With the last few moments he has, Bakugou shoves Chargebolt and Invisible Girl away roughly and gets buried under the avalanche of debris.

The last thing he thinks he hears is a chorus of voices yelling Bakugou before his vision goes black.

---

And that’s what Bakugou remembers when he wakes up to white. White walls, white curtains, white sheets.

Unfortunately, the noise isn’t white. It’s annoyingly and stupidly loud.

‘There are too many of you here,’ Recovery girl says, sounding exasperated. ‘He will be fine, he just needs to regain his strength.’

‘Sensei, a whole section of a mountain fell on him, how can he just be fine?’ Jirou questions, sounding severely distressed.

‘Plus, this happened while he was saving me,’ Kaminari chips in. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

‘I have a secret healing quirk of my own,’ Ashido bullshits. ‘He’ll feel so much better when he hears my voice. I have to stay, it’ll be a crime for me to go.’

‘I can tape his wounds?’ Sero offers sheepishly.

He can hear Recovery Girl’s sigh from the other end of the room. ‘And you?’

‘He’s my person.’ Kirishima says it like it’s enough of an explanation.

Recovery Girl clicks her tongue. ‘Overdramatic, the lot of you. Play rock paper scissors or something, but I’m only allowing one of you to stay. The rest of you are going back to the dorms.’

The room bursts into noise again and Bakugou’s head feels like it’s splitting open.

‘HOLY FUCK, SHUT UP!’ The blonde roars from his bed. ‘I LOVE YOU GUYS, BUT IF YOU DON’T STOP YELLING, I WILL BODILY THROW YOU ALL OUT THE DAMN WINDOW.’

His own yelling does more harm than good to his throbbing head, but the noises stop completely so at least it did its job.

He’s alone for a blissful second before a crowd of five idiots surroundS his bed. Kirishima’s face peers into his, smile wide and eyes crinkled around the edges.

‘Hi, how you feeling?’

‘Like someone ran me through a garbage disposal and then put me in a microwave.’

‘Such details, much prose,’ Sero quips, earning him a chop from Ashido.

‘Blasty my love, can we do anything?’

‘Yeah, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.’

Jirou squeezes his calf from the foot of the bed. ‘You gave us a real scare there.’

‘I’m fine,’ Bakugou grumbles.

‘He will be,’ Recovery Girl reiterates, pushing them away and standing next to him. ‘I’ll do another bout of healing once you’ve recovered some of your strength. You can go back to the dorms before bed.’ She turns to his classmates. ‘Only one of you.’

They look at one another and everyone but Kirishima starts shuffling away reluctantly.

Kaminari lingers behind before quickly giving Bakugou a gentle hug. ‘Thanks,’ he whispers into his ear before pulling off and following after the others. Bakugou rolls his eyes and curls onto his side, yelping when he puts some weight on his tender side.

‘Easy,’ Kirishima mumbles, easing him onto his back. When Bakugou is finally comfortable, Kirishima drags one of the chairs lined up against the wall next to the bed and plops down, exhaling. Bakugou opens a tired eye to look at him and sees Kirishima with a stupidly smug smile on his face.

‘What?’

‘You love us, huh?’

Bakugou had hoped they hadn’t caught that, even though he’d screamed it loud enough for the entire building to have heard. Apparently, a cliff falling on you doesn’t stop you from blushing.

‘Fuck off, you were hearing things,’ he says anyway, because what is Bakugou if not in full denial about so many things?

Kirishima’s laugh is loving not mocking, and he puts his hand on Bakugou’s elbow.

‘Good to have you back Kats.’ He gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘Get some rest huh? I’ll be here when you wake up.’

Bakugou gives him a weak glare, but he can’t muster enough rage and anger because the absolute worst part is, he meant it. Because apparently being a rage-filled hero in training doesn’t make one impervious to feels.

Bakugou feels so betrayed by his own thoughts and emotions.

But right as he loses consciousness, he finds himself wondering if he minds all that much and he decides he doesn’t, almost not at all. The answer doesn’t really surprise him either.

He falls asleep to a cool breeze brushing over his skin and the sound of Kirishima humming under his breath.

37 notes · View notes

mieohmy · 4 years ago

Text

𝖲𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝖢𝖺𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝗈? | 𝖫𝖾𝖾 𝖧𝖺𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇

PAIRING: lee haechan x reader

GENRE: humor, fluff, haunted house au, friends-to-maybe-more?

WC: 1.2k

NOTES: cursing, horror/scary things 🤡 boo maybe a Halloween drabble in January 🤠?

↳ “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”

✧

You weren’t going. No way. So what if you have to be stuck at home ignoring annoying doorbells from candy deprived kids who just rampaged from door to door? It was way better than going to the highest-rated horror house in the city... right?

“Listen, I’m staying here. I’m not going to scream my brains out and get killed by a clown alright? End of discussion.”

“Come onnn, it’ll be so much fun. The fear is the best part,” Renjun tries to convince you for the nth time. “Who wants to be alone on Halloween?”

You reply with no hesitation. ‘’Me.”

“Y/n,” he groans in frustration, “you’re not gonna die. You can just stick by Haechan’s side, no biggie.”

Renjun’s response causes you to furrow your eyebrows. “Why Haechan?”

“Well, he won’t stop bragging about how fearless he is, so he can protect you... I guess?”

You snort, “Haechan protecting me? Why would he want to do that?”

His eye suddenly twitches, specifically the left one, you note. “Uh- no reason. Hey guys, you ready?” he calls out to the other guys.

“Yeah, did y/n finally change their mind?” Chenle asks.

“Of course. They’re gonna change, and then we’re leaving.” Renjun glares at you with such ferocity that you simply turn and walk to your room to get ready.

✧

You regretted going. Waiting in line was literally torture. The never-ending screams were torture. Everything was torture.

“Guys, I don’t think I can do this anymore. Didn’t you just hear those kids screaming? It literally sounded like they were actually getting murdered.”

“Oh don’t be a baby, it’s gonna be great getting chased by clowns,” Renjun states.

Haechan puffs up his chest. “Or the clowns are gonna be chased by me.” There’s a moment of silence before you speak up again.

“Seriously, how come Jisung wasn’t forced to come and I was?”

“Cause,” Jaemin replies, “He’s a baby. Mine, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, bottom lip jutted out in frustration. “What about me? Am I not a baby?”

“Nah- oh heck no,” Chenle says, head shaking from side to side.

Haechan mutters under his breath, “you can be mine..”

“Ughhhh I’m gonna die, and it’s gonna be all your guys’ fault.” You might’ve tried to escape the line and run away as fast as your legs can take you but there’s always that one person who stops you.

“No, you won’t.” Renjun shoves you toward Haechan, making you stumble into his arms. “Since you think you’re all so strong and mighty, you can take care of them.” You’re too busy grumbling to notice Haechan’s flustered expression.

The line moves up and the horrible feeling in your stomach grows every step closer.

When the group in front of you enters the death house, you tightly clench whoever’s arm is right next to you. “Oh my god, we’re almost in.”

Haechan lets out a strained laugh, weakly attempting to remove your iron grip from his arm.

And then the door opens. You feel the cool air flow out and shiver. Chenle lets out an excited woohoo! and dashes in.

You’re frozen, staring at the darkness emitting from the door until a voice cuts in.

“Come on, y/n. We can do it.” You look up at Haechan, a hand offered in front of you.

And so you take it, entering the haunted house with the rest of the boys.

It isn’t too bad -is what you thought for the first five steps into the house.

It helped that everyone was giggling at all the lame props that didn’t seem so horrifying after all.

Horribly fake decorations? Okay. Bloodied corpse? Ehhh...

Is that a murder chainsaw guy? Goodbye.

You swear it was some weird vase decoration or whatever, but when it stands up and that roaring engine sound comes to life, everyone erupts in screams and scatters throughout the place.

You're not sure where you are, where everyone else is. The house feels so much scarier alone. In total, you’ve been jump scared by three zombies, one skeleton, and a coat hanger.

You’re not even sure how you’ve been moving through this maze of a house. For real, how many doors and hallways have you walked through?

After a creepy girl pops up right in your face, you wail, almost on the verge of tears. There’s no choice but to run away, maybe find someone else or an exit. Where is everyone?

Turning a corner, you bump into something, immediately falling to the ground and shrieking. Wait a second. You may be hearing things, but it sounded like another scream? One was yours for sure, and you’re pretty confident that your voice didn’t suddenly become deeper...?

“Fuck- wait a sec... Oh thank goodness, y/n !!”

Whimpering, you peek an eye open to see a relieved Haechan. It was hard to recognize him, the house being so dark and all.

“W-where’s everyone else?”

He helps you up, not letting go of your hand afterward. “I don’t know... We all lost each other after that creepy chainsaw man.”

You pause. “You know, for someone saying that they were so good at these horror things, you were sure scared to bump into me.”

“W-whatever. I can barely see anything. Come on, let’s stick together. I don’t think I can handle this anymore.”

Slowly, the two of you continue through the house. You never loosen your grip on his hand. you don’t think you physically can.

After a weird clown guy literally comes out the wall(??), the two of you barely make it past, Haechan babbling random useless threats.

You bury your head into his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t let go. If you do, I think I’ll die.”

If you keep saying things like that, I think I’ll be the one to die, Haechan bitterly thinks in his head.

“Haechan... I-I think I see it!” “See what?” “Maybe my eyes are deluding me, but I think that’s the exit? Right?”

You both glance up at the giant EXIT sign in neon green positioned above a door.

It takes a few seconds of studying and squinting before you two share a glance and vigorously push through, tumbling outside back into the normal world.

The sight of the black sky never seemed so reassuring before.

“Y-y/n, we did it!! We escaped that rotten house!!”

Laughing in joy, Haechan picks you up, spinning in circles until you can’t breathe. Maybe it was being in his arms or staring into his sparkling eyes that caused your heart to beat faster.

“GUYS!” Haechan finally sets you down at the outburst. How convenient, the rest of your group basically collapses outside the exit.

“Please- let’s just get the hell outta here. That skeleton seriously moved, I swear. But...how did you guys escape so fast?” Renjun asks, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

You share a smile with Haechan, growing when his hand sneaks around to fit with yours.

“Cause we had the guts to do so.”

“.........was that supposed to be a p-”

“No, y/n. Don’t say anything. Don’t even give him a response.”

Maybe haunted houses were pretty fun. With the right people, of course.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct haechan #haechan x reader #lee haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #donghyuck scenarios

85 notes · View notes

give-seconds · 4 years ago

Text

Timeless

Summary: Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel! Where you can be treated for whatever wounds your poor heart has tolerated. Heartbreak Hotel has 23 employees, all of whom will be wholeheartedly devoted to healing your heart, after which you shall be asked to leave. Heartbreak Hotel not only offers never-seen-before deals and techniques, it also has special floors to regulate the healing of your heart!

This is part of the Heartbreak Hotel collaboration hosted by @nct-writers. This is my first ever collaboration and I had so much fun being apart of this. I hope you enjoy!

Paring: RenJun x gender neutral reader

Genre: angst with a happy ending, slight fluff

Warnings: Renjun works on the depression floor, so hopefully this is kinda sad.

Word count: 9.5K

---

“Hi y/n.”

You turn your attention away from your phone, looking up to see the new employee you would be working with. New day, new stage, new employee.

“As you know, my name is Renjun, and I’ll be working with you on this floor.”

Setting your phone on the table screen down, you watch as he pulls out the chair across from you. He’s young– like everyone else in the hotel– and as he sits down, you can’t help but notice how small he is.

“Want to tell me why you’re here?”

You laugh humorlessly, looking down at your sleeves as you play with them. “You know why I’m here, it’s all in the paperwork.”

He smiles kindly, crossing his legs. “What if I told you I haven’t read the paperwork yet?”

You crack a light smile. “Then I’d say you’re not the best at your job.”

He nods his head, his small smile still spread across his face. “Well then, why don’t you tell me what happened so I don’t get fired?”

Quite frankly, you hate that you’re here. You never understood the need for this place when a good friend is all you need. After all, why talk to seven different strangers, and relive the hurt seven different times when you can tell one person one time. One and done.

But what happens when it’s your best friend who breaks your heart?

“I would really prefer it if you talked to one of the other employees I talked to or read the paperwork. I can’t keep talking about this, I-”

You snap your mouth shut and close your eyes. You can already feel the tears burning your eyelids, and you bring your hands from your lap to hold your head in your hands, elbows resting on the table.

God, I hate crying.

“Y/n, I know this is hard. But talking about it makes it better, that’s why we have our seven floors. We believe it takes a least a week to get a proper grip on your heartbreak, to be able to go back out and be-” he brings his hands up in a gesture of quotation marks, “‘Okay.’”

“I get that, it makes sense. I don’t know what the people who come in here are normally like, but I can’t talk about my feelings that often. It’s too hard.”

“I get that. It’s a good thing I don’t like to jump into the touchy-feely stuff right away. So why don’t you tell me what happened?” He smiles softly, and like everyone else in this hotel, you can feel a sense of comfort radiating from him. “We don’t even have to talk about feelings if you don’t want to.”

You nod your head, dropping your hands onto the table. “My best friend, she cut me out. She stopped answering my texts and wouldn’t pick up my phone calls.” You scoff as the memory plays through your mind. “She even went as far as to stand me up the one time I was able to get through to her. She was too busy partying.”

“So that’s why you’re here?”

You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes. You feel so stupid talking with a stranger about your problems. Problems you should be solving on your own.

But it was eating you alive. Then one night, talking to a few strangers seemed less scary than sitting with those thoughts alone for another night.

“No, I’m here because I finally got the courage to tell her I was done if things kept going the way they were. That I was done being in a one-sided relationship.”

“How did that go?”

“It went well. She sent me a response saying she was sorry and that she never meant to hurt me. I thought it was going to be okay and that I was going to have my best friend back.” You smile sadly as her smiling face flashes through your mind. “You know she’s my oldest friend?”

He smiles, resting his head on his clasped hands. “Oh really?”

You nod your head. “I had moved to a new city so, of course, I didn’t have anyone. I joined a play to make new friends, and there she was. She’s everything I’m not, good and bad. I think I thought I could help her not be so sad. I thought I was, I mean, she told me I was. She told me I was special to her.”

“From my experience,” he says softly, “people don’t normally lie about that sort of thing. I’m sure you meant something to her. Now, of course, I’m not her so I can’t say for sure.”

You haven’t talked to many people about your recent heartbreak– specifically, only one person– but when you had, you had gotten a very stereotypical answer. “You don’t need her, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

You appreciated the thought, but it didn’t help. Simply hearing that it would be okay and that she didn’t know what she was missing didn’t help fight the feelings of nothingness that threatened to take over.

“You’re right, neither of us are her, so we’ll never know. But you wanna know my theory?”

“Shoot.”

“I think I used to mean something to her. And then, she found someone else.”

His eyes softened, and if you had to guess, he had just figured out why you had moved to this floor.

“Okay y/n, here’s what we’re going to do. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of sitting here. So you’re going to give me a list of your favorite snacks– whether that’s chocolate, chips, fruit, or all of the above– and your favorite movie from your childhood.”

You stared at him, scanning his eyes. He didn’t say anything either, looking back at you with a calm expression.

You couldn’t understand. This hotel has been in business for three years now, and no doubt every employee is good at their job. If Renjun is any good at his job, he would have a pretty good, if not solid, idea why you had moved to the Depression floor. So why stop now?

“I don’t- why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. “Well, when I’m sad, my favorite thing is to just go back to my childhood.”

“But don’t you want to know more? We didn’t even get into the root of it.”

He shifts in his chair, crossing his legs. “I know, but you said you don’t like feelings. Like you said, you have to recount this event multiple times. Right now, you’re in one of the hardest stages of this journey. You already passed through what, in my mind, are two of the hardest stages. There’s no doubt in my mind you’re tired and just ready for the hardness to end.

“Once you’re ready to move on, whether that's tomorrow or next week, you’ll be moving onto easier steps.” He smiles brightly. “Now, I don’t want you looking back on your time with me and thinking it was horrible. So, I was thinking, we could have a little party to bring some of the joy that comes in the later stages to us now.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t a party. When your friend sent you the details of this hotel, you read they offered “never-seen-before deals and techniques.” Until now, you couldn’t imagine what that meant.

Clearing your throat, you give Renjun one of the weakest smiles you’ve ever given anyone. He’s right, I am tired.

“Okay, sounds good,” you agreed.

He smiles brightly, standing up from the table. “Awesome, you’ll find my contact in the hotel app you downloaded. Text me your list and the movie, and I’ll see you when I get back from the store.”

You nod your head, waving back at him as he slips out the door.

You let out a deep breath, looking up towards the left, and fanning your eyes. Bringing your eyes to look at the door, you hit your hand against your chest above your heart twice. You appreciate his efforts. You appreciate the hotel’s efforts, but you’re so tired.

You’ve cried so much since you checked in, not to mention you’ve been in a foreign place for the past few days meeting new people every time you progressed with your heartbreak.

Just when you felt you were getting somewhere, you were moved to a different floor and had to get comfortable with a new employee. You understand why they did it; having specialists for each stage of heartbreak is a great idea.

A great idea in theory, but exhausting in practice

Shaking your head, you pick up your phone to start making a list of things you’d like him to buy.

---

“Come in,” you call, hearing a knock at your door.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Renjun says, walking into the room holding a bag of groceries in one hand and two sweatshirts slung over his other arm. “It took me forever to find this one thing, and by the time I had, of course traffic had to be terrible. So what started as a thirty-minute mission turned into an hour-long one.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I have anywhere to be,” you say, motioning to how you were sitting on the bed, the blanket pulled over your lap.

“I know, but I still made you wait.” He sets the bags at the bedside, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. He smiles widely as he takes the sweatshirts from around his arm and lays them out on the bed. “Now, on top of snacks, I also brought oversized sweaters. Take your pick!”

You look at the two sweatshirts, one yellow and one grey, before reaching out to grab the grey one and pulling it into your lap. I was starting to get a little cold.

Sticking your hand inside one of the sleeves, you smile at the soft feeling. “Is this why you asked to first meet me at six? You wanted to do this?”

He grabs the yellow sweatshirt and pulls it over his head as he answers. “Yeah. Most of the staff like to get to know new clients over lunch or dinner, but I like this method better. Breaks up the routine and spices up everyone’s life.”

You nod your head, looking up from the sweatshirt to him. You let out a small, ‘oh,’ realizing he was still sitting at the foot of the bed.

“You can sit here,” you say softly, patting the spot next to you.

He bends down to grab the bag before crawling to sit next to you, dumping the bag of snacks onto the bed between you two.

“What are these?” you ask, picking up a snack bag with Chinese characters on it.

“Oh, these are some of my favorite snacks from when I was little. I normally don’t buy them

when I go out for a client’s snacks, but I’ve been feeling particularly homesick lately.”

“You’re from China?”

“Yep!”

You tilt your head to the side, flipping the bag to look at the back. “How’d you end up working for this hotel?”

“My friend Chenle – he also works on this floor – told me about his cousin Kun who was starting this hotel with his friend Taeyong, who he met while studying abroad here in Korea. We thought it was a cool idea, so we dragged our other friend Yangyang down with us. It’s actually how most of the foreign members got here. Sicheng-Ge is Kun-Ge’s friend, Yuta-Hyung is Taeyong-Hyung’s friend, Shotaro is Yuta-Hyung’s friend, Mark-Hyung and Johnny-Hyung came through Ten-Hyung, and God knows how Ten-Hyung showed up.”

You snort, placing the bag back in the middle and grabbing one of the brown snack bags he bought for you. “That sounds fun. Do you all get along?”

“I mean, of course, we get along.” He pauses, pursing his lips in thought, before shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, I don’t really know some of the older staff that well, and I don’t know Sungchan or Shotaro that well either, but we all get along.”

“So it’s like you have a massive family gathering every day?”

“A family gathering.” He turns to you, smiling. “That’s a perfect way to put it.”

He looks down at the bedside table before twisting over and reaching for the remote. He hums as he scrolls through the apps, looking for a specific one. You watch silently as he flicks through them, trying to push back the sudden thoughts on why you're here.

Tonight is about watching a childhood movie and temporarily forgetting the heartbreak. Easy enough.

“Are you ready for the best movie night you will have here at Heartbreak Hotel?”

You smile at the excitement in his voice. He seems genuinely excited to watch this movie.

“Ready.”

He makes a point to dramatically press play before dropping the remote between you two and picking up one of the bags he bought for himself. He shifts around on the bed, pulling his knees close to him.

Suddenly, the closeness of the action hits you. You can’t remember the last time someone did something like this for you.

You love your friend who helped get you here, they mean a lot to you. But after your other friend started ignoring you, you had never felt so alone before. Loneliness turned to pushing people away, which meant you had no one to come and spend time with you. Maybe you were too good at convincing your friends you were okay, but you were hoping they’d surprise you with something.

You know you aren’t thinking straight, so you can’t help but think the fact your friend hadn’t tried to cheer you up and your best friend dropping you was because of you. Maybe you’re too boring, too serious.

You shake your head, quickly wiping away a few tears. No, now is not the time to be wallowing in self-pity. Not while watching a kid’s movie.

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt over your hands, not looking away from the movie. “I’m just so tired, Renjun.”

He nods his head in understanding. “I can imagine, it’s hard what you’re going through. Of course, I’m not forcing you to talk to me about it. I’m here to help you y/n, and if that is just sitting with you and watching movies then so be it. But it does help to talk about it, that’s why we’re here.”

You close your eyes, leaning against the wall. “I just feel stuck. I thought coming here would be hard. I mean, crying is one of the hardest things for me to do. Then I’m sitting here with you, and I want to tell you everything. There’s, um, there’s just this fear. If I tell you my thoughts, why I’m here, then along with those feelings come the feelings of self-pity. I’m so scared of self-pity, Renjun.”

“I know what you’re talking about, and I know how helpless that can feel. Truth is, we feel what we feel. Some things are good to ignore, like the urge I sometimes get to just punch Chenle or Yangyang.” You tilt your head to the side to look at him, and he smiles at you. “You’re right to be somewhat afraid of those feelings. It’s easy to let them consume you. But do you want to know my basic rule of thumb?”

You adjust your head to look back at the movie, watching mindlessly as the film plays in front of you. “Sure.”

“Give yourself two days to feel sorry for yourself, and if after two days those feelings are still there, pick yourself up and move on. Those feelings don’t have to be gone completely, but after two days you have to start living your life again.”

“Can those two days start tomorrow?”

“Of course y/n, we go at your pace.”

---

“Good morning y/n, fancy some ice cream?” Renjun asks, swinging the door open.

“Good morning Renjun.” You check the clock on the bedside table. “It’s 12:30 in the afternoon.”

“So?” He leans against the closed door, arms crossed. “I’m in the mood for ice cream and either I go with you or by myself. And if you ask me, talking to you is way more fun than talking to myself.”

“I don’t know Renjun, I’m kind of tired. Plus, I was hoping we could talk before I lose the courage to.”

He nods, uncrossing his arms and pushing off the door. “Okay, then change of plans. We talk first and then get ice cream.” He makes his way over to you, extending his hand out to you. “Either way, you should leave that bed and this room.”

You smile slightly, taking his hand as he helps pull you up from the bed. He smiles brightly, dropping his hand to his side. “We’re going outside, so if you need to grab anything for that, now’s your chance! I’ll be right out by the door, so when you’re ready, come and get me.”

Before you can say anything, he is already walking out the room.

“Renjun, wait.”

He turns around, a hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“Why are we going outside? I thought we were going to talk first.”

“We are.” He looks around the room before his eyes land back on you, a smile lighting his face. “You need a change of scenery.”

With that, he pulls open the door and walks into the hallway.

You tilt your head slightly, confused at the random action. You thought the first thing you two would do today would be to talk. He seemed like the kind of person to want to get the talking out of the way.

But now he’s taking you somewhere to get ice cream? You shake your head, bending to grab your phone from the bed before walking towards the door to pull on your shoes.

“That was fast,” he smiles, pushing himself off the wall.

“Yeah, I was already dressed so all I had to do was put my shoes on. If you weren’t in such a hurry, you would’ve seen that,” you tease.

He shrugs his shoulders, turning to walk down the hallway. “Had I done that, you might have objected. But look at us now.”

You chuckle at his statement, walking the rest of the way to the elevators in silence.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he pushes the down button.

“You’ll see.” He smiles, walking into the elevator.

When the elevator opens on the bottom floor, he leads you out and to the left towards a door with a sign ��staff only” taped at the front. He pulls the door open, and walks in before holding the door open behind him for you. It’s a small room, with the only things inside being a white board hung on the wall and a door leading outside. Once you’re in, he takes the whiteboard marker from the top of a whiteboard and writes an RJ in one of the 7 boxes taped out on the board.

“You’re going to love this,” he says, pressing the pen back into its holder before walking to the door.

When you step out, you’re met with what you can only describe as a garden straight out of a movie. A gravel pathway led to what looks like a hedge maze. As he leads you towards the entrance of the maze, you reach your hand out to touch the bush.

He leads you past two doors built into the hedge, one on the left and one on the right. When you two reach the second set of doors, he pulls open the one on the left and motions for you to go in. Upon entering, you’re surrounded by hedge on all sides.

Opposite the door, a black metal bench sat in front of the hedge. Across from the bench and to the left of the door, a beautiful flower wall, full of white, peach, and red colored flowers covered a majority of the hedge.

“Renjun, it’s beautiful,” you marveled, taking a seat on the bench. “I didn’t know you guys had an area like this.”

He nods his head, taking a seat next to you, and looking at the scenery around the bench. “Yeah, it's really beautiful out here. There’s a section out here for each floor, and since we have multiple employees on each floor, it’s first come first serve. But I’ve used space assigned to another floor when Chenle or Mark-Hyung were using this one, so it doesn’t really matter.”

You nod your head. “I imagine that has caused some troubles.”

“No, surprisingly not yet.” He takes a deep breath, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him tilt his head up to the sky. “I always think better outside- it feels less confining. So I thought this would be a better place to talk as opposed to somewhere with four walls and a ceiling. You also don’t have to worry about others hearing you here. No one else signed in. With that in mind, feel free to start talking whenever you’re comfortable. We have all day.”

As soon as he’s done talking, a silence falls between you two. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes as you push back the thoughts telling you it was a trap. You know that by telling him everything, it would get hard. You knew the self-pity you were so scared of would worm its way in after every word you said to him.

Living with that would be better than how muted you felt now.

“I’m just tired and scared.” You start slowly, letting out a shaky breath. “My entire life, I’ve had trouble getting close to people. For as long as I can remember, I’ve only had two friends. I mean, sure, I had people who were nice to me and we could have nice conversations, but we weren’t friends. I’ve long since accepted that I’ll never be anyone’s first choice; my dad would pick my sister over me, my friend who sent me here would pick her childhood friend, and my friend who left picked her other friends over me.”

You quickly wipe your eyes, taking a deep breath before you continue. “I don’t care about that- it is what it is. I just never expected her to leave me like that, to just cut me out of her life. When she first started doing it, I told myself I was fine. I’m not dumb I know that it isn’t solely my fault she distanced herself. She has a hard life, and I’m sure that’s a major reason this is happening– I’ve already worked this out on the anger floor– but at the same time, I can’t help but think it’s because of me.”

A sob escapes your mouth, and you bring your hand to rest against your forehead. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try and get your breathing under control again.

You’re sick of crying, it’s all you’ve been doing this past week. If you weren’t crying, you were ignoring the numb feeling that has made a home in your gut. The same feeling that took away some of the joy you should be feeling at all the genuine acts Renjun and the rest of the staff have shown you.

You’re sick of living with muted feelings.

“You already said you knew it wasn’t because of you that she did what she did. I know it’s hard, but don’t backtrack on those feelings. Don’t let the hurt you feel from losing a friend turn those thoughts around on you.”

You lean forward, placing your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. “I know, I know, but it’s so hard. It’s just, my mom and I aren’t on the best of terms right now. I mean, there was a time in my life when she would just leave for months to go on vacation by herself.”

You shake your head hoping to straighten out your thoughts, sitting back up. You wipe your eyes, pushing back any thoughts of how you must look right now. “It’s like, every night before I fall asleep, I’ll remember a funny or happy moment we had together. With that memory, the reality that I can never go back to a time when she wanted me hurts. Which makes me come full circle to if it took my mom years to even want to be around me, doesn’t it make sense that the same thing that pushed her away since birth pushes one of my closest friends away?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You don’t blame him for being at a loss for words, frankly, you have no idea what you’d say to someone in your position. Even if it is his job, having strangers pour their hearts out to him probably never gets easy.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, his lack of words making you feel anxious you had said something wrong. “It’s just I-”

Before you could continue your explanation, Renjun cuts you off. “Don’t apologize to me unless you do something to hurt me or the people I care about.”

You turn your head to face him, the sincerity in his voice surprising you. He flashes you a quick smile before turning his attention back towards the wall in front of him.

“With regards to your friend, I think what you need to do is practice taking a break from the problem. Clear your head and then approach it from an outside view. To give you a head start on that outside view, let me offer you mine.

“I don’t know the whole story, so feel free to call me out on anything wrong. But sometimes people just leave because their lives are going in different directions. You told me she has a hard life, so maybe her cutting you out is just an unfortunate consequence. This can be said about your mom and her- some people are just self-destructive and scared. Maybe they saw their relationship with you as something that will last a long time. Something like that can be scary to some people, so if I had to guess, part of them leaving is tied to them being scared. I’m not asking you to forgive her or to ignore your feelings on the relationship, but maybe if you can look at it as the result of someone hiding from their fear, it could help you.”

You nod your head, letting the words sink in. You don’t know if you’re ready to accept that reasoning- or if it’s what you’re even looking for- but it’s nice to hear something different than what your mind is telling you.

“I know losing a friend is hard,” he continues, not looking away from the flower wall in front of you two, “but by the time you are out of this hotel, you’re going to realize that it has nothing to do with your personality. I know this is only the second day we’ve spent together, but I like being around you. I’ve had many people come through here, some good and some bad, and I can confidently say you’re part of the good group. I’m not just saying this because it’s my job, but I enjoy spending time with you y/n.”

After he finishes talking, you quickly wipe away the hot tears escaping from your eyes. You have a few people you know you romanticize in your mind. There was the boy from your sixth-grade math class who walked you to your next class, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you bawled your eyes out about another fight you had with your mom. There was also the girl you met at summer camp who was a complete stranger to you, yet took the time to walk you from the cafeteria to your cabin after you threw up from food poisoning. They’re both perfect examples of that romanticization.

Those had been random acts of kindness during times you thought you were alone. Each time, you remember being amazed there were people like this around you. People brave enough to help someone they didn’t know.

Once again, you feel your heart warm from the same type of kindness, and you find yourself struggling to comprehend how someone can be so nice.

Renjun takes a deep breath and looks over at you, breaking you from your thoughts. “Not that there’s any rush, but is there anything else that you wanted to tell me?”

You quickly shake your head, taking deep, shaky breaths to try and stop crying.

He nods his head, a shining smile breaking out across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I think the only thing that can make us feel better is ice cream. So how about, when you feel up to it, we go and get some?”

You nod your head, sniffling once. “Okay, just- just give me a second, and then I’ll be ready.”

“Again, there’s no rush. We move at your pace, however fast or slow that is.”

---

“Having trouble deciding?”

You glance at the stranger to your left before looking back at the assortment of teas. “I guess so.”

“Well this one,” the stranger says, pointing to one of the boxes of black tea, “is my personal favorite. If you’re in the mood for something without caffeine, this is the tea to go. If you want chai, we have milk in the fridge– which I suggest you use instead of water– with one packet of sugar, and you have yourself the best chai tea ever.”

You laugh softly, leaning against the counter. “Sounds like you know your stuff.”

He smiles, reaching for the black tea he pointed to. “Kim Doyoung is the name, tea is the game.”

You snort, pushing off the counter and reaching for the chai tea. “Well Doyoung, I’m excited to try your recipe.”

“If you’re disappointed, you can file a complaint against me. You’ll find me on the Reconstruction floor,” he jokes, his back turned to you as he pours hot water from the water dispenser into his cup.

“Noted. And since you’re a staff member, you aren’t going to kick me out if I use the stove and one of your pans to heat some milk, are you?”

“It’s the public kitchen, so you don’t have to worry about anyone kicking you out,” he chuckles, walking to one of the small tables and taking a seat. “As long as you wash the pot out, we don’t care what you do.”

“Good to know.”

Walking over to the refrigerator, you sigh softly as you pull open the door.

It’s been a long day.

Grabbing the milk from off the side rack, you use your foot to hold open the door as you pour some milk into your cup. Once you’re finished, you screw the lid back on and move to put the milk back.

“Oh, you can keep it out. I forgot I was going to add some to mine.” He smiles as he pushes himself up from the table. “I don’t even know why I sat down.”

You chuckle. “I feel that.”

Squatting down to open one of the cupboards to look for a pot, you wince slightly at the sound of pots hitting each other as you move the pots to get to the smallest one. “Not to sound mean, but shouldn’t you be helping someone?”

“I could say the same thing about you, I mean, you’re down here all by yourself. Do I need to get someone fired? ”

You place the pot on the stove and pour in the milk from your cup. “Fair point. But luckily for you, you don’t have to fire anyone. I practically had to chase him away so I could have a moment by myself.”

He chuckles, pouring some milk into his tea. “May I ask who you have?”

“Renjun.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Renjun,” he chuckles, pulling open the fridge to put away the milk. Turning around, he leans against the counter, picking up his cup to take a drink. “You got lucky with him, he’s my second favorite of the younger staff.”

You snort, tearing a sugar packet and pouring it into the milk. “Who’s first?”

“Jeno. He works on the floor above Renjun’s.”

“Well, if I get the opportunity to work with him I’ll be sure to tell him he has to live up to the expectations set by tea king Kim Doyoung.”

“Please do, it’s been a while since I’ve told him I’m proud of him.”

You smile, turning off the heat and moving the pot to a different burner.

“I just realized,” he says, pulling you from your thoughts. “I never asked for your name.”

“Oh, I’m y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you y/n. It’s nice to have someone to share my tea knowledge with.”

“Are you telling me that in a hotel of 23 men, there is no one else who likes tea?” you ask sarcastically, pouring the milk into your cup and dropping the teabag in.

“There are, they just don’t like to listen to me. They tell me I’m too bossy.”

You let out a loud laugh, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. You look over to him, and he simply nods his head, a knowing look spread across his face.

You clear your throat, turning your attention back to your tea, stifling laughter as you pour a sugar packet in. “That sounds sad, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, they don’t know what they’re missing.”

You nod your head, tossing the packet into the trash and moving the pan to the sink to wash it. “That’s a good attitude to have, stay strong.”

“I’m as good at being petty as I am at anything else.”

You snort, squirting some soap onto the sponge to wash the pot. “Are you open to some feedback?”

“Go for it.”

“Okay, well for one, I don’t think that’s a good thing. And two, I don’t think that’s a saying.”

“All valid points,” he starts, and you hear the clink of what you assume is him putting his cup on the counter, “but let me tell you why they aren’t actually valid. Petty is how I’ve made my way in this hotel. Ten is something else, and I may have picked up a few things from him. Secondly, I don’t know what’s a saying and what isn’t, so that has no effect on me.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“It does.”

You chuckle, turning off the water, and placing the pan on the drying rack. “Well, I can say you’ll have no trouble staying strong.”

He dips his head in a thank you, and you laugh softly. Drying your hands on the towel hanging on the oven handle, you turn around to grab your cup.

“Well, I’m going to go up now, I have books to read and TV to watch. Thank you for the tea recommendation, I’ll be sure to try the other ones you pointed out.” You nervously pat the side of your cup twice, letting your eyes wander around the room before looking back at him. “This might be kinda weird considering this is our first time meeting, but thank you for having this conversation. It was nice to talk to someone who isn’t involved in my life. That, and you made today slightly less awful.”

He smiles, and you’re finally struck by how beautiful it is.

Renjun’s smile always struck you as a warm, comforting one. It fit perfectly for the floor he worked on. Doyoung’s, however, is different. While he still radiates comfort, his smile is more of a hopeful one. The kind that brightens even the worst days.

“I’m glad I could help. It was lovely talking with you y/n, and I hope I get to work with you when you reach my floor. It would be nice to see you again.”

You smile, rubbing your finger against the side of the cup. “Yeah, it would be nice to work with you. Maybe have a tea party where we talk about our feelings and my journey here.”

He laughs, walking up to you and tapping his cup lightly against yours. “I look forward to it.”

---

“I brought strawberries,” Renjun sings, opening the door.

You smile softly, pausing the show you were watching and patting the spot in front of you on the bed. “What’s with you and randomly showing up with food?”

He shrugs, placing one hand on the wall to balance himself as he uses his feet to take his shoes off. “I think spontaneous food is good for healing the soul. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

“Expert,” you repeat, laughing at his choice of words.

“Speaking of experts,” he says, taking a seat in front of you and placing the container of strawberries between you two, " I heard from Doyoung-Hyung that you two talked. How was that?"

"Well, for starters, he said Jeno was his favorite."

He snorts, picking up a strawberry. "That's nothing new."

"Isn’t Doyoung one of the members you said you don’t know very well?” you ask, taking a bite of the strawberry in your hand.

He nods his head, covering his mouth with his hand as he finishes chewing. “All the younger staff have an older member they’re particularly close with, and then the rest range from comfortable to the most awkward situation you could ever be in. Funny considering we have those parties when a client leaves, so you think we’d all be close by now. Anyway, me and Doyoung-Hyung are somewhere in the middle of that scale.”

“You guys really are like a family.”

He nods his head, placing another stem into the bowl he brought with him. “How’d you sleep last night?”

You smile softly, picking up a strawberry so you would have something for your hands to play with. “If you’re talking about if I thought about her or not, I did. I know it was earlier in the day, but I even almost texted her. That’s why I texted you asking if I could use the kitchen, I wanted something to distract me.”

“How do those memories make you feel?”

“Sad.” You laugh humorlessly, running your finger over the leaf. “I have photos on my phone from when we permed her hair. Most of those photos are of her, but the ones I’m in, you can see I’m laughing. It was such a fun day, we laughed so much. I thought I was getting better about the whole situation, but then I saw those photos, and I realized I’m still stuck in that time. And like I said before we talked in the garden, I can’t stop feeling sorry for myself now that I’ve vocalized the connection I feel between her and my mom. I normally have pretty good self views, but once I get an idea like this in my head, it’s so hard to get it out.”

“My first piece of advice is to be more gentle with yourself. Remember, today is your second day of sitting with those feelings. I think to start moving on from this stage, you have to be in tune with what you’re feeling. If you aren’t aware of what it is that’s hurting you, it will come back to you later. As much as I like being with you, I don’t want to see you here again.”

You smile softly, taking a small bite of the strawberry to try and distract yourself from the tears pricking at your eyes. “Thanks, Renjun.”

“My second piece of advice,” he says, tapping your knee to bring your attention up to him, “don’t hide from the memories. Even if you can’t go back to that day, doesn’t mean you don’t have to ignore those memories completely. I know it isn’t the same, but I have a photo from my friend’s birthday party from like five years ago back in China. It’s of me, my friend, and some guy he was friends with at the time. Turns out, the guy wasn’t very nice and they had this whole drama thing.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Back to the point, they’re not friends anymore. And when that happened, my friend had been so sad. He deleted every photo of the two of them and cropped him out of any group photos he could. But I still have my photo of the three of us. Even though I look at him and am reminded of all the stuff he put one of my best friends through, I still smile when I pass it by in my camera roll. Because that day was filled with great memories between me and my friend.

“Now, in your case, you can still look at those photos and remember how happy you were that day. They don’t have to serve as a ‘look at this moment I can never go back to.’ Instead, look at them as ‘look at this moment, I was so happy this day.’ You know, it’s kind of like childhood. We have these photos from when we were younger. At birthday parties and whatnot. It’s sad growing up, sometimes we want to go back. But we know we can’t, so instead we look at photos to remember the joys of our youth. This can just be part of your youth.”

“I’ve been telling myself that this entire time.” You place the barely eaten strawberry into the stem bowl. “So I can see the end of the road, but my problem is I don’t know how to get there.”

He nods his head, pushing the strawberries off to the side. “Well, I can tell you right now that’s normally the opposite problem I have to deal with.”

You chuckle, nodding your head. “I’m a special one, aren’t I?”

“No,” he laughs. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’ve felt that myself a few times, as well as a few clients that dealt with the same issue. All I have to say to you is to just know that there’s an achievable end. You know there’s an end but it seems unattainable. So just know, it is achievable.”

“So I just have to wait?”

You knew what the answer was before you asked the question. You hated how powerless it made you feel, knowing it would get better but not knowing when.

You know you’re lucky in the sense that you know it will get better. Call it the control freak inside you that couldn’t stand not knowing when.

“Let me tell you why I chose to work on this floor,” he says, ignoring your question. “I chose this floor because while it can be hard seeing people go through this, it’s the easiest stage to work with someone on. I get paid to listen, share my two cents, and, if needed, tell a story of mine. For the most part though, I get paid to eat and hang out with people as friends. I’m not here to solve people’s problems, I’m here to listen. I can’t make you reach the end, but I can accompany you on the journey there.”

“Thank you.”

You know the response isn’t exactly the correct thing to say, but you feel so thankful to him in this moment. Hearing him say he wasn’t trying to push you ahead blindly felt so relieving. You never realized how suffocating the constant feeling of needing to get better was.

“You’re welcome.”

---

You: Are you up?

Renjun: Of course I’m up it’s only 9

You: I don’t know you could be one of those early sleepers

You: Anyways I have something I wanted to ask you

Renjun: Go ahead

You: Okay

You: So I know we had this conversation two days ago but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and you’re right.

You: I don’t want to hide from those memories anymore so I was wondering if I could send you some photos of me and her? I don’t know why but I just feel more comfortable doing this over text

You: Is that okay?

Renjun: Go for it. I’m ready to see into your past

Renjun: (◎_◎)

You: First of all that’s kinda creepy

Renjun: No it isn’t

You: Second of all thank you for letting me do this

You: Let’s get started down memory lane shall we?

You: First up we have her carrying Kyle on her back

You: {image}

Renjun: Is Kyle the bear on her back?

You: Yep! You: Kyle is a five-foot-five stuffed bear she got me for Christmas

You: He’s still sitting in my room

Renjun: He’s beautiful

Renjun: Also kind of an oddly specific height

You: Not the point here

You: Moving on!

You: {image}

You: This is just a nice photo of the two of us. This was taken when we went to the beach for her birthday. She dropped her piece of cake into the sand

Renjun: That is one of the saddest things that could happen to a person

You: I agree

You: When it was dropped she just stared at it for a few seconds before sighing deeply and turning around to get more. One of the funniest things I have ever seen

Renjun: That reminds me of last year on Donghyuck’s birthday

Renjun: So we bought him this cake and had a celebration for him outside on this picnic table we used to have. We had it at like ten at night so we weren’t disturbing the guests. At the time we were still letting the staff bring their dogs into work from time to time and Lucas had brought Bella in that day

Renjun: Long story short we set the cake on the table after he had blown out the candles and Ten-Hyung had run inside to get plates and everything. Being the stubborn man he is he had refused to ask for help and ended up dropping the box of silverware and most of the plates

Renjun: Those of us who weren’t helping him pick it up were just watching. And if you told me 23 people would get distracted over a bunch of spilled forks and plates I don’t know if I would have believed you. Now comes the fun part

Renjun: Eventually we hear Shotaro yell “Bella no!” She had managed to climb on top of the table and take a bite out of the middle of the cake

You: Oh my god no

Renjun: I know right! The look on Hyuck’s face is something I’ll remember for a long time. We ended up running to a near by store and buying him this small one in replacement

You: Forget her, that is the saddest thing that could happen to a person on their birthday. At least she was able to get more

Renjun: Eh he’s fine. He got his cake

Renjun: Bring on the next photo

You: Right

You: Next we have this one. And she would kill me if she knew I was showing you this but oh well

You: She isn’t here to stop me

You: {image}

Renjun: What even is that?

You: I wish I could give you a straight anser

You: Answer

You: But the best I got is that she found a random towel and stuck it on her head. Next she wrapped this weird bead necklace that me or my brother must have made when we were like five around the towel. Then for some reason she made an ugly face

Renjun: Well that sounds like it would have been a fun night

You: I honestly don’t remember. I just know it was at mom’s house and I was thankful to have her there

You: You know I think that’s why when she left it hurt so bad. She was the first person I was okay with letting into my life and seeing the hardships I had concerning my mom. She would always be there when I was worried I was acting too much like my mom or when my brother was being too much for me to handle (he can be like her sometimes too)

You: And before you say anything

You: I’ve listened to what you said the past few days and I know how to look at it in a good way. Instead of thinking about how I don’t have this person to give me comfort, I can think of it as ‘I may not have this person anymore but the things she said helped me then and they can help me now.’

Renjun: That’s good y/n that’s a really good step

You: What can I say I learn from the best

You: Now the next photo isn’t of her but I miss my cat so here you go

---

“I think you’re ready to move on.”

“Hello to you too,” you respond, pushing yourself off the bed and walking to stand in front of him by the door.

“You should know by now that a knock on the door is the only greeting I give. But seriously, I think at this point an Upward Turn staff member would be able to help you more than I can.”

“I-” you stutter, unsure what to say. “Do you mean right now?”

“No, silly,” he laughs. “Well, not at this moment anyway. It’s ten right now, so I would input you as ready to be transferred, you would get your staff member and new room, you’d pack up your suitcase, and then we move you up into your room. We can only move you once you’re processed as a transfer, and that takes at least an hour to be complete.”

He walks over to the table you guys sat at during your first meeting and pulled out the chair. “I’ll input you as a transfer now, and then we can go do something.”

You take the seat opposite him, still surprised you were moving up a floor. He pulls out his phone, and without looking up from it asks, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Um no, I haven’t.”

“Awesome, then when I’m done with this, how about we go and get some breakfast?”

“Sounds good.”

“One last thing, do you not trust me?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

He looks up from his phone at you, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’

“About moving on,” he clarifies, looking back down at his phone. “Do you not trust me?”

“No, of course, I trust you.”

“But?”

“But I just feel like it’s too soon, I don’t feel ready,” you mumble, for some reason feeling stupid for having your doubts.

He smiles kindly, pressing one more thing on his phone before placing it on the table. “Be honest, what more can I do for you? We’ve talked about what you were feeling, I let you have your two days of sadness before starting to slowly change those thoughts, and now, you’re at a point where you’re changing your way of thinking without me having to tell you to. Transforming that into something useful is much more suited for someone who works on The Upward Turn floor, don’t you think?”

You nod your head, shifting in your seat. “I just don’t feel completely ready yet. What if- I don’t know- what if I mess up somehow and I make it hard on him. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable with my not-ready-for-the-upward-turn-step?”

“You worry too much. But if it makes you better, let me just say that when we went through training for our floors, the staff on this floor had to receive training in the floor above us and vice versa. So if you feel you’re not completely ready, he can help you get the rest of the way there. You don’t need to worry, I’m sure you’re ready for what’ll happen up there.”

“Thanks, Renjun, that means a lot to me.” You smile at him as you lean back in your chair. “So you received training?”

He chuckles, mirroring your posture. “I wouldn’t exactly call it training so to say, more like lets all talk with people on our floor and compare ideas. For the most part, only staff on the same floor worked together, but this floor worked a little with the Upward Turn and Anger floors. We thought in order to help someone through these steps it was important to understand the steps before in case we needed to backtrack a little."

“For not having any real training, I’d say you’re all pretty good at your job.’

“Excuse you, I’m great at my job.”

---

“You ready to go?” Renjun asks, pushing the door open and leaning against the frame.

You sigh softly, nodding your head. You had never cared about leaving the rooms before, you had been too tired to care that you were leaving. But this room felt special.

Grabbing your suitcase, you walk towards him, stopping right before the door frame to look over your shoulder at the room. “Is it weird if I say I’m going to miss this room?”

“Not at all, I can imagine it’s going to be weird not seeing my handsome face every day.”

You snort, turning to face him. “Your face is the last thing I’m going to miss.”

“Ouch,” he laughs, pushing himself off the wall.

You close the door behind you, smiling softly at the playfulness between you two. Definitely going to miss this.

“So who’d you get paired with?” he asks as you walk side by side to the elevators.

“Taeil.”

He hums, nodding his head. “He’s nice. He’s kinda shy at first, but don’t let that scare you.”

“Noted,” you say, pressing the up button.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss him. Granted, you probably would have felt this way about anyone who helped you at this stage of your heartbreak, but you can’t help the gratitude you feel towards him.

“Thank you again,” you say as you step into the elevator.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me, this is my job.”

The elevator dings open, and you both walk silently to your assigned room. After struggling to open the door the first time, you push the door open to the new room.

You nod your head, looking around the new room. Every room looked pretty much the same with simple layout changes.For the first time since you got here you appreciate the familiarity.

“I know, you said I don’t have to thank you,” you say, turning to face him. “But I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I have this habit where I tend to, for lack of a better word, idolize people who help me. Since this whole thing happened, I decided I should tell people when they do something for me that I appreciate. So I really appreciate the support you’ve given me throughout this. It means the world.”

He smiles brightly and your heart hurts a little as you realize this is one of the last times you’ll see his smile. Throughout the days you’ve spent with him, you failed to realize how beautiful his smile is. You were too busy dealing with everything happening inside you, you never stopped to appreciate how much he smiled.

The world needs more people like Renjun.

“I’m glad I could help you y/n, you were a pleasure to work with. And there’s no need to idolize me, I’m just doing a good job so I can continue to buy food using the company card.”

You laugh, looking down at your hands. “That’s a fair point, I can’t say I would do any different.”

“I’m glad you could see things my way.” He nods his head, letting a second of silence pass between you two before he points his thumb behind him towards the door. “Well, I’m going to get going, okay? I’ll see you at check out.”

You nod your head, whispering a ‘bye,’ as he turns and walks towards the door.

It feels weird knowing you’ll hold him in your memory as this great guy and he’ll only remember you as a client. I guess in some ways he is my idol.

“Hey, Renjun?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever pass me on the street or something, promise me you’ll say hi?”

He smiles brightly at you. “Of course, y/n. I’ll see you at the gathering with all your other employees before you go, okay?”

You nod your head, waving a final goodbye to Renjun. With one last smile, he’s gone. Breathing in deeply, you turn to look at your new room. Letting out your breath, you smile to yourself as you realize the feelings of numbness aren’t as strong as before.

After dreaming for so long, let’s start anew.

---

Thank you to @pastelsicheng (who I appreciate so much for the detailed revisions and having a lovely tea conversation with), @jenoremii, and @0606-hyuck for proofreading this for me!

I had so much fun writing this and I would love to know what you guys thought of it. Thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful day/night!

Masterlist

#neohbh #nct-writers #huang renjun x reader #gender neutral reader #nct renjun #huang renjun #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kim doyoung #nct doyoung #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

52 notes · View notes

writesistersociety · 4 years ago

Text

Writing Disability and Neurodivergency

Writing Disability and Neurodivergency- Some simples Dos and Don’ts from a Person who is Both

Diverse representation in media is extremely important, and it’s more than just skin color or sexual/gender identity. Disability and neurodivergency are often grossly misrepresented in media, if they get represented at all. As an allistic, able-bodied, cishet woman, I’m constantly striving to put more diverse representation in my stories, but sometimes it gets scary! I’m a bad researcher, what if what I look up is wrong? When I’m so nervous about it, how do I know the line between accuracy and othering?

I want to be able to represent these often marginalized and overlooked groups in a respectful way that doesn’t put my perception of them over what they feel and really are, so I talked to my friend @Franzidoeseverything on Instagram, and this is the rundown that thon gave me:

“Word of advice, hold the opinions of someone living with the condition they’re talking about higher than someone who has a similar issue, but not the same thing. For example, I can’t talk about what it’s like to be in a wheelchair, but someone in a wheelchair who doesn’t have EDS cannot talk about what it’s like to have EDS. Same goes for neurodiversity, I can educate about autism but not ADHD.

NEURODIVERGENT CHARACTERS (Specifically Autism)

Don’t make them super weird or strange in unnecessary ways, but don’t try to make them as “normal” as possible. Stimming, being overwhelmed, shut downs, meltdowns, and things to accommodate sensory needs are normal for us, and they should be portrayed as such. Portraying them as weird, strange, or unnatural is gross. But simultaneously don’t make us as “neurotypical” as possible, don’t hide the less flattering sides of it, don’t hide the joy either.

Always avoid person first language. Say “autistic people” not “people with autism.” Make sure you’re using the right vocabulary.

Autistics aren’t robots, geniuses, or “special needs.” We’re disabled because our brains function differently in some ways.

All of our needs are different. Some autistics are nonverbal, some are hyper verbal, etc. We are not cookie cutters, we are just as unique, diverse, and individual as NTs.

ALWAYS avoid stereotypes like Sheldon cooper and such.

Try your best to portray positive aspects of neurodiversity as actually positive. For example: “They were so overcome with joy about the news they couldn’t hold in from flapping their hands and jumping, a pure, unfiltered expression of happiness” is a better way to portray stimming than “Overcome with the news they couldn’t hold it in, as hard as they tried, and ended up flapping and jumping, which earned them some stares from everyone in the room.”

DISABILITY

Everyone experiences pain differently. A wonderful, accurate, description of pain that comes to mind is the the beginning chapters of Misery by Stephen King. We usually have many different types of pain, caused by different things, and can sometimes distinguish between them.

We have good days and bad days, the good days are minimal pain (not none). The bad days are baddd. Learn about spoon theory, we use it to describe ourselves very frequently.

DONT EVER CURE IT. DONT CURE PHYSICAL DISABILITIES OR NEUROLOGICAL. DONT DO IT. It’s horribly offensive and should always be avoided. Obvious exceptions for curable illnesses.

A disability will impact every single aspect of life, keep that in mind. For example, I have a lot of tooth issues due to EDS.

Make sure your disabled character (physical or neurological) isn’t being infantilized by you. By other characters in order to make a point is fine, but as an author don’t forget disabled people smoke, drink, date, have a sex life, swear, get angry, get sad, feel joy, and every other aspect of life

Disabled characters should be in everything, even just as a background character, as long as they don’t exist for white saviorism or to make the main character look better. If you’re writing a piece with an emphasis on a disabled character, you have an ABSOLUTE DUTY to represent that community well or you cannot write that character. If you’re writing an autistic character, you bet your butt you’re personally gonna spotlight autistics, listen to them, and speak out against Autism $peaks.We aren’t inspiring for living day to day lives, stop the inspiration porn.”

Some general stereotypes to avoid:

Crazy/psycho ND character

Genius autistic

Sad good-for-nothing disabled character

Only there for inspiration disabled character

Only there to make another character look good disabled character

Only representing autistic children (it’s lifelong)

Saying “multiple personalities” instead of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID, OSDD, etc).

OCD being only cleanliness character

Disabled character being cured or “finding God” and magically being fine (something about finding comfort in religion is obviously okay)

Some Instagram Accounts to Look At:

Thechronicon

Livingwaterless

Livingwithlilac

Living.With.Misophonia

Autiscope

Autism_unmasked

Actuallyautistictiktoks

Chronicallycatastrophic

How.u.feeling

Jessicaoutofthecloset

Sweetsensorystuff

εїз Happy Writing, Creative Minds εїз

73 notes · View notes

alexhogh7137 · 4 years ago

Text

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Forty-Eight part One

Chapter Forty-Eight Continued: "...i am just waiting for the day...he's hanging in those trees.."

Word Count 1.8k

Warnings: none

You watch your daughter's eyes flutter in your warm embrace, as she gently falls asleep. You hum to her while the people around you shout and fuss around you. Hvitserk notices how loud it was getting in the room, and gets frustrated.

Hvitserk "Aye, the baby is trying to sleep! Have some respect huh?!" He shouts as he gets up from his seat to defend her.

"My apologies, my queen." An older viking said. You nod and just try to get Asta to fall back asleep.

Ivar "He is gone." You look up from your gaze. "Is she asleep?"

"Almost."

Ivar "Well we can wait to leave until she is asleep, huh? I do not want to wake her."

"Thank you."

Ivar "No need to thank me, I love Asta. You know that."

"Yes, yes of course." He leans down and kisses your cheek before grabbing something to eat.

As soon as Asta was asleep, Ivar insisted on leaving immediately. To you, that was odd. Why was he in such a rush to leave Kattegat? You do nothing but oblige and you walk out the doors with your husband. You get on top of Neith and you see Hvitserk walking out with Asta in his arms. He waves goodbye to you with her little hand and your heart hurts. You wish that she was old enough to come with you and Ivar, but that is out of the question.

You mouth, i love you, to which he says it back. And just like that, you and Neith flew away and into the vast horizon.

Ivar "We will return soon, you and Ubbe are in charge-"

Hvitserk "I know, go on brother." Ivar nods and clicks his tongue and whips his horse to command it to gallop. But to your surprise, you look behind you and notice both of your dragon's flying a distance away from you.

You giggle to yourself, "Sure..you can come too boys.." Neith's noises became playful, making you laugh even harder. "You three are supposed to be scary, you know." She picks up her speed, proving a point. "Okay, I take that back." She growls and then slows back down. "I love you girl, it feels good to be with you again, hmm?" She coos as if she was whimpering from happiness. You pet her scales as she glides over the water bed. There is no feeling like this one.

Ivar is alone with his thoughts, yet again. But how could he tell you not to ride with your dragon's? They are yours after all. So there he is, riding through the trees, passing the stream that you just did. While watching your dragon's fly close behind you. Ivar does not know what Daario said to you, but he intends on finding out. He does not like that man in the slightest. It is only a matter of time before you see Daario Naharis's true colors.

…

Ivar makes it to the spot before you did, which he did not understand. He sat on the sand, watching you and your dragons fly above him and thinks to himself, "where did she go?" You land and dismount her and Ivar greets you.

Ivar "What took you so long huh?"

"Neith got a little excited, she took the long way."

Ivar nods, "uh huh." And walks away from you.

"What is it, Ivar?"

Ivar "What did Daario say to you, hmm?"

"He congratulated me on having Asta."

Ivar "That is it?"

"No, he complimented me as well." He nods and his jaw clenches. You can tell that he was infuriated because he lost eye contact with you. He only does that when he does not want you to see how angry he is. So as the wife you are, you cup his cheeks and kiss his lips. He immediately melts in your touch and forgets why he was so angry.

"Listen to me my love. Naharis is like every man, he flirts with beautiful women. But I am not like other women who fall under their spell. I love you Ivar Lothbrok. You are my person, aren't I yours?"

Ivar "Yes. You are mine and so much more."

You smile, "So do not allow Daario to get under your skin. He wins if you do that. Do you want him to win?"

Ivar "Of course not but-"

"Then don't let him. He knows how it makes you feel when he looks at me, he does it on purpose Ivar. Do not let him see your anger."

Ivar licks his lips, "Okay, my love."

"And one day, if he goes over the line, I want to make the first wound." He chuckles at that, mission accomplished.

Ivar "Yes, my queen."

"I am serious.."

Ivar "Okay but do not kill him, I want those honors."

"Mmm, I will have to think about that one beloved." Ivar crashes his lips to yours and grabs your waist. His kisses are sweet and gentle, with love and passion.

Ivar pulls back, "I remember the first time I kissed you."

"It feels the same. The same spark-"

Ivar "It has never faded."

You agree, "How could it? We are fated to be together." he smiles and kisses your entire face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Hvitserk takes care of his daughter, he gets this vision. But it is not a horrible vision, in fact it is one of the most beautiful visions that he has ever gotten to witness. As he is holding baby Asta in his arms, he is also watching her grow up right before his eyes. In his vision, he can see her running in the fields of Norway, her long blonde hair trailing behind her as she runs through the wind. And you are running beside her and he can hear you two giggling away. Once the two of you stop running, Asta, who looks to be around 5-8 years of age, looks at him with the biggest smile. He could feel his heart just about explode in his chest at such a sight. He opens his arms long and wide and she runs into his arms as he lifts her off the grassland. As the vision fades, he returns to the present moment and realises how blessed his life has become.

Ubbe "What are you smiling about, brother?"

Hvitserk "hmm?"

Ubbe "You are staring at the wall and smiling-"

Hvitserk "ah..yes."

Ubbe sits down, "Well..?"

Hvitserk "I had a wonderful vision, Ubbe."

Ubbe "A wonderful vision?"

Hvitserk "Yes! I have never experienced one like it."

Ubbe "Tell me everything, I'd love to hear some good news." Hvitserk gladly told his brother every detail of his vision as he watched Ubbe smile with pure joy and excitement on his face.

Hvitserk "I have never been this happy in my entire life, Ubbe. I have never felt so much joy."

Ubbe "That is what children do, my brother."

Hvitserk "But I never thought that this day would come for me Ubbe..I always wished to become a father like we all do but now that I am, it all feels like a dream."

Ubbe "You are not dreaming Hvitserk, she is really here. She is in all of our lives."

Hvitserk looks down at Asta, who is now wide awake and fussing in his arms, "Shh shhh shh..I know you want your mother but she is not home."

Ubbe "What do you think Ivar is talking to her about right now?"

Hvitserk "Knowing Ivar, he is probably asking her all about Naharis and the conversation that they had."

Ubbe "I am just waiting for the day he crosses that line and he's hanging in those trees."

Hvitserk chuckles, "I am pretty sure that he will not die that way, my brother. That would be too easy."

Ubbe grunts, "You are right."

Hvitserk "Hopefully we are wrong and he is a noble man. But something about him worries me."

Ubbe "At the same time..he did save her life."

Hvitserk "At Wessex..I know."

Ubbe "So maybe we are just being..overprotective."

Hvitserk "How could we not be? She has gone through-"

Ubbe "I know, I know. But everything will work out just fine Hvitserk. I am sure of it."

Hvitserk nods, "For all of our sakes, I hope you're right." Ubbe stands up and takes Asta out of his arms to cradle her in his arms as tightly as he possibly could without breaking her like a twig.

Ubbe "You are too perfect, little one."

Hvitserk "Mm, isn't she?"

Ubbe "I'm going to steal her-" he said before sprinting down the hallway and into the throne room. Hvitserk rolls his eyes and laughs as he rushes out the door to retrieve his daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Ivar holds you as you two lay down by the water, Ivar begins to play with your long blonde hair. You hum from the satisfaction of that warming feeling.

Ivar "Asta is going to have your long hair, I can see it in my mind."

"Mm, and I will braid it. And I will do her hair for her first battle-"

Ivar "Oh..that day will be.." you turn to face him so that you could look into his eyes.

"Ivar?"

Ivar "Frightening."

"You worry about her?"

Ivar snickers, "Yes, my love. She may not be mine but she is a part of you. When I look at her, I see you. So yes, I worry about her and her future."

"She will be strong, Ivar. She will be a warrior, just as I am and you are."

Ivar drops his head, "I am not a warrior, I am just a king."

"You are a warrior." He sighs, "You are. And everyone alive, who knows of your name, knows how strong and powerful you are, Ivar."

Ivar smiles softly, "I do not deserve you, Y/n."

"Why do you always say that?"

Ivar "Because I do not. Your love is so pure..you are so beautiful inside and out and I am the opposite." You turn your head in confusion, "I am feared by my people and you are loved by yours-"

"Not by all. I was almost executed by one of my women because she did not wish for me to be her queen. Do you not remember?"

Ivar "Yes. But I have done unimaginable things to people that did not deserve death."

"Everyone makes mistakes Ivar. No one is perfect but the gods."

Ivar "I just want you to know that I am not that person anymore, my love-"

"I know that you are not."

Ivar "You..changed me Y/n. You made me a better man, a better brother and king. I love you.."

"And I love you." You kiss him softly before getting up. "Come on, let's go home."

Ivar smiles as he gets up after you, "Yes, my queen." You walk towards your dragons and look up at them.

"I am going to ride with them, you go on." They shriek and leap off of the soft ground, shaking the earth underneath them and fly off into the horizon. "Let's go see Asta."

Ivar "Yes..I miss her." He offers you his hand with a smile as he helps you into his carriage and you two go home to your beautiful daughter. Connected in a way that you were not earlier this day.

@hvitserkmarcosource @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @heavenly1927 @saldelys @krissydclayton93 @readsalot73

#alex hogh andersen #vikings #ivar the boneless #hvitserk #marco ilsø #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #the battle between love and fire

24 notes · View notes

allthingshetalia · 5 years ago

Note

I’m a huge sucker for fairytale romances, and since Prussia was a Teutonic Knight, I was wonder if you could do a oneshot where Prussia, during his days as a knight meets his s/o at a ball and asks to dance with her, falling in love with her more as the night progresses on.

💕Hi! This isn’t historically accurate at all! So if you are a history freak and hate when things aren’t correct, then you might want to leave. And please don’t yell at me everything I got wrong! Thank you! I had fun writing this! 💕

“I don’t want to be here.” You grumbled. Your best friends swatted you on the arm.

“Behave! Plus if you don’t find a husband soon your parents are going to marry you off to that old man down the street. Is that what you want?” She threatened. You winced and shook your head.

“Of course not! You’ve seen him. He’s one year away from needing a cane.” You stated. You both giggled quietly.

“That’s what I thought! Now can you please try and have a good time.” She gripped both of your hands and stared at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” You mumbled. She smiled and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Roderich.” She smiled.

“Wait you’re going to leave me?” Your hands darted out and gripped her forearms. “That’s not fair.” You gasped.

“We are courting, Y/N. What did you expect?” She sighed.

“Well if you are courting he should be running after you! Not the other way around.” You explained. She shrugged.

“It’s doesn’t matter! Now please let me go.” She begged. You rolled your eyes and detached your hands from her. She shot you a grateful smile and disappeared into the large crowd. You frowned and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Now that was rather rude of the lady.” A voice snickered from behind you.

You turned around only to see a rather short man with long brown hair. He was fairly attractive, with his honey eyes. “I’m Benjamin, Benjamin Hartford.” He held his hand out and you quickly placed your hand in his. You both curtsied and you introduced yourself.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.” His eyes lit up in recognition.

“Yes I’ve heard of your family. Your father is very established in the medical field isn’t he?” Benjamin smiled. You nodded your head.

“Yes, yes he is.” You agreed.

“Tell him I congratulate him and admire his work.”

“I will.” You replied. A silence grew over you and you looked back and forth at each other awkwardly.

“I’m writing a book.” Benjamin suddenly stated.

“Oh really? How interesting! What is the subject?” You were finally happy you didn’t have to stand in silence.

“I’m writing about the causes and effects of woman leaving the household. You know to go and pursue a career or go to school.” Benjamin explained. You hummed.

“That’s quite the topic. Are you in favor?” You questioned. Benjamin gasped softly.

“God no. Woman should be taking care of the household, and the children. You don’t need an education to do that. It’s engraved in your DNA afterall. If I have a daughter I’m not sending her to school. It’s a waste of money. But I probably won’t have to worry abou that, my bloodline is very well bred with males.” He paused for a moment a small smile on his face. He looked at you like you would be charmed by every word that flowed from his lips. He raised his hand and rested it on the small of your back.

“Well as a woman who went to school her whole life, I hope your book becomes the laughing stock of the country- along with yourself.” You sneered. You shook his hand off and pushed your way past the large crowd. Opening the back door you quickly breathed in a lungfull of fresh air. The worst part is that you knew his book would be a success.

“Well Someone ticked you off.” Someone chuckled. You turned and finally became aware of the man standing next to you. He was leaning with his back against the house. You gasped a little when you caught sight of his features. He has beautiful red eyes. They looked like rubies. Rubies happened to be your favorite type of jewel and the proud ruby necklace and matching earrings you were wearing proved that.

His eyes bore into your own and you your heart did a backflip. He quickly turned his head away from you and stared out at the rolling hills of grass. “I know my eyes are scary, no need to tell me.” He chuckled bitterly. You quickly shook your head and took a step forward.

“They’re beautiful.” You breathed. The man quickly turned his head to look back at you again. He looked a little shocked and you soon realized it was probably because no one ever complemented him on them. “They look like rubies.” You continued. He squinted his eyes at you, before they traveled down your body. You covered your body as much as you could with your arms.

“You wanna turn my eyes into a necklace?” He chuckled, nodding his head towards your chest. You smiled softly and lowered your arms.

“No, that would be rather painful for you, don’t you think?” You snickered back. A small smile played on his lips and he turned away from you again.

“So what is a pretty girl like you doing here all by herself?” You shrugged and leaned back against the house, standing a little closer to him than before.

“I came with a friend, but she ran off to find her dreadful soon-to-be-husband.” You growled. He laughed next to you. His laugh was also like nothing you have ever heard. He quickly cut himself off and cleared his throat.

“You’re not a Fan?” He asked. He turned his body towards you and leaned so his shoulder was pressing against the house. You shook your head rapidly.

“Absolutely not. He’s some Austrian noble. Thinks he owns everything, when in reality the only thing he can do is play the piano.” You suddenly realized how horribly rude that sounded. You quickly gasped and covered your mouth. “That was the rudest thing I have ever said. I’m so sorry, that is very unladylike of me.” You apologized. The broad man watched you with amusement. He held up a pale hand to stop you.

“I know someone like that. And if he’s anything like him, he deserves it.” You sighed in relief at him comment.

“So what is a knight like you doing here?” You pondered, turning down your body was facing his. “Are you protecting or something?” You asked. He shook his head at you softly.

“No. Although I can assure you, you are safe with me.” You rolled your eyes, but blushed. “I’m friends with the lord of the house. I use to work for him for him when I first started being a knight. And he invited me.” He explained. You ‘ohhhed’ and hummed in response.

“How long have you been a knight?” You asked. You suddenly realized how stupid that sounded. He laughed as you cringed, but once again he cut off his own laugh.

“Well I’ve been a knight my whole life. When I was a baby my parents left me on the doorstep of the knights training school. They were going to get rid of me, but I guess they could sense my winning personality, and they decided to keep me and raise me to be a knight.” Your eyes saddened at his earlier confession.

“That was horrible of your parents.” You stated.

“You can’t blame them. I’m from a small town in Prussia- a very religious town at that. They probably thought I was some demon.” You winced.

“I’m sure you’re not.” You assured.

“Well considering my profession, I would say I’m pretty close.” You we’re about to reply, but the sudden sound of loud music cut you off. The familiar tune of your favorite song made you smile with joy.

“I love this song.” You sighed. You watched through the window as people began to find partners to dance with. The man next to you cleared his throat and you turned to look at him. He had his hand outstretched.

“May I have this dance?” He whispered. You smiled and quickly gripped his hand, ignoring the way your hand felt perfect in his. He rested his hand on your hip and began to move you both to the music.

“You know you never told me your name.” You said as you moved your feet gracefully. He was a little less graceful than you, but his movement were strong.

“Well you never told me yours.” He replied. He pressed you a little bit closer to him, causing a spark to fly through your spine.

“I asked first.” You giggled. He smiled down at you and twirled you. Once you were face to face again he leaned forward, so his forehead was just ghosting over yours. You blushed brightly, never being this close to a man before. His eyes softened at your bright face and he pulled away slightly.

“Gilbert.” He said finally.

“Gilbert.” You repeated. A small shiver ran through him, one that went unseen by you. “Your name means ‘bright pledge’.” You smiled. “That makes a lot of sense considering you’re a knight.” You chuckled. He shook his head in agreement.

“Yours?” He pressed.

“Y/N.” You responded.

“I don’t know what it means, but it’s stunning nonetheless.”

Both of you moved in a perfect sync with each other. Your favorite song left, but neither of you noticed as you both became closer and closer. You were pressed up against him and his hand held yours tightly, while his other hand gripped your waist. His thumb would move in small circles to the beat of the music every so often. You rested your head againsg his chest and he repsponded by placing his chin on the top of your head.

“If anyone saw this, I would be in a lot of trouble.” You hummed.

“I know. Between being this close to a man- and a man who is also a knight. You’re walking on thin ice.” He chuckled. You looked up at him.

“You shouldn’t cut off your laugh like that. It’s nice and unique.” You whispered. A small, gentle smile spread across his features.

“I have enough uniqueness to me as it is.” He let his forehead rest against yours and you both slowly felt your bodies began to melt.

“And it’s a breath of fresh air.” You insisted.

“Thank you.” He removed his forhead from yours and kissed you on the top of the head. You smiled and rested your head against his chest again. You both swayed back and forth gently, but you doubted it could be considered dancing. You felt as though you could fall asleep. You had never felt this way before. So safe and warm. Not only that but you felt like you were in good company. This man was interesting. His eyes showed you that he had seen many things and the curious part of you wanted to hear every single one of them, even if they were bad.

And you didn’t know it but his feeling were similar. He had never felt so- welcomed. With you wrapped up in his arms it felt like home. It felt lovinging and warm. He felt like he needed to preserve you in some way. He had seen the horrors of the world and he never wanted them to be etched into your innocent mind. You deserved the world. He knew that sounded stupid becaus he has only spend an hour with you- but he knew a good person when he saw one. He couldn’t give you everything you wanted. But he certainly could make your life one worth remembering.

The sound of the door opening quickly caused you to pull away. All the warmth and happiness that flowed through your body quickly vanished. But you relaxed some once you saw your best friend. She looked at you, then Gilbert, than back to you. Roderich appeared next to her and Gilbert groaned loudly.

“Roderich.” He hissed. The Austrian looked at him with wide eyes, and then looked at you, then back to Gilbert.

“What the hell are you doing here?! This is an ball- not some hokey pokey battle!” Roderich declared.

“Wait you two know each other.” You asked. The both nodded in agreement, their harsh gazes never leaving each other. The look in Gilbert’s eyes made you a little nervous. It was a harsh contrast to the way he had looked at you.

“What are you doing with Y/N?” Roderich asked. He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipped his foggy glasses off. “She is a elegant woman! Not one who should be corrupted by you!” The way Roderich spoke of you made you feel a little bad for how badly you drug his name through the mud.

Gilbert didn’t respond but he look at you. His eyes softened considerably.

“Come on Y/N let’s go home!” You friend urged. You could tell she was scared by the small cracks in her voice. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I’ll catch up.” You smiled. She looked at you suspiciously, before nodding her head. Roderich was about to open his mouth but he wa a dragged away by your friend. As soon as they got far enough away your quickly wrapped your arms around Gilbert’s neck and tugged him down closer to your level.

“I live in Camsworth. My house is right next to the lake, and it has a green roof with white exterior. Meet me on the dock.” You whispered.

“I’ll be there at sundown.” Gilbert smiled. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, and you regretfully removed yourself from him and rushed to catch up to your friend and Roderich.

Both of your bodies shook with excitement. You didn’t know what would happen to either of you or if your relationship was even meant to be. All you knew though was that you couldn’t go back to your regular life without getting to know the ruby eyed man.

#allthingshetalia #hetalia #hetalia blog #hetalia imagine blog #x reader #hetalia imagines #aph prussia #prussia hetalia #hws prussia #prussia x reader #prussia headcons #prussia headcannons #gilbert beilschmidt #prussia imagines #prussia one shot #hetalia x reader

186 notes · View notes

some-days-we-get-sundays · 4 years ago

Text

“Nyssa, I’m with someone now. Someone amazing. She’s- the love of my life. She’s the love of all my lives...

Avalance deals with Nyssa coming back:

Ava comes and stands in the doorway of Sara’s room on the waverider.

“Hey babe.” Sara coos.

“Hey babe.” Ava says back sweetly. Ava always gets weak in the knees around Sara, especially when they call each other pet names. It’s like she still can’t believe that this is her life and that she fell in love with a Legend. This Legend in particular.

“So, there’s a very attractive, slightly terrifying looking woman aboard the ship, she says she is here to see you.”

“Ava, babe, are you sure you didn’t just walk past a mirror?”

“Babe, i’m seri-wait I’m not terrifying am I?” Sara smirks at Ava and says nothing.

“Anyway, no there’s-”

“Sara.”

Sara sits up on her bed and looks at the person who just entered their space. It was Nyssa. Ava looks between Sara and Nyssa, she didn’t know what she was seeing. She didn’t know who this person was and she couldn’t read Sara’s expression. Which was weird because she can always read Sara’s expressions. Ava watched as the two embraced. Then this person stuck out her hand and formally introduced herself.

“I am Nyssa, daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, Heir to the demon.” Ava knows this woman now. She also read her file. She admittedly spent more time reading Sara’s file, but their wasn’t much on Nyssa anyway. She didn’t know what she looked like, but she did know her and Sara used to be an item.

“I’m Ava. Ava Sharpe. Former director of the Time Bureau and unwilling participant in a clone... um thing. It’s a long story.” Ava clears her throat awkwardly.

“Babe”. Sara, stage whispers. And Ava blushes. It is now Nyssa’s turn to look between the two. Nyssa knows Sara very well. And even though she doesn’t know Ava, she can still read the expression on both their faces. Love.

Sara gets up to embrace Nyssa, putting her hand on the back of Nyssa’s head and pulling her close. Ava visibly stiffens. Something Sara doesn’t notice because her back is towards Ava but Nyssa takes note. She’s not here for a fight though, and from the looks of it, she thinks to herself, she’s not here to get Sara to come back to her either. This tall gangly woman with the kind face and supermodel body must be Sara’s new beloved. Nyssa muses.

“Nyssa, we should talk.” Sara says as they pull apart.

“Do we need permission from your girlfriend?”

Ava claps her hands together, “Oh no, you to go right ahead. I’ll be right here.” Sara sensing that Ava is becoming uncomfortable and self conscious, goes over, runs her fingers through Ava’s hair and then pulls her into a deep kiss. “I’ll be back babe.” Sara tells her.

Sara wants to find some place quiet but she doesn’t want to take Nyssa to the jump ship. That’s sort of a sacred place that her and Ava share. It was where Sara and Ava had all those late night video chats and sometimes middle of the day chats when the both of them just needed to get away and see each other. Sara knows she doesn’t have feelings for Nyssa anymore but she wants to respect what she and Ava have. She doesn’t want her old life to tarnish her new one. And she doesn’t want Ava to feel like her territory is being taken over. So Sara just leads Nyssa to the kitchen and hopes the other legends aren’t around to barge in and make things even more awkward.

“What are you doing here Nyss.” Nyssa’s features soften at the abbreviation of her name in Sara’s mouth.

“I- thought that I would come and find you. I- I’ve come to the realization that I no longer wish to live this life. You were right, beloved.” Nyssa reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Sara’s ear but Sara gets up and backs away until she is against the counter.

“Nyssa, I’m with someone now. Someone amazing. She’s- the love of my life. She’s the love of all my lives.” Sara shocks even herself with this admission but she stands firm because she knows it’s the truth.

“Ava.” The name sounds strange coming from her past lovers lips. “And Ava is your beloved?”

“Ava’s my... she’s my Ava! My Aves, my baby, my bae, my love, my captain pantsuit, my better half. She makes me feel cared about, and safe, and loved. I like protecting her but I like that she also doesn’t need my protection. I like holding her at night and seeing her face when I get up in the morning. I like that she’s my co-captain for life. So I guess she is my beloved, but she’s so much more.” Sara sees the sad look on Nyssa’s face. “Nyssa I’m sorry. I really am. But this is my life now and I wouldn’t go back or change it. I won’t hurt Ava. Not for you, not for me, not for anyone. I’m happy here. I’m happy with Ava. And I’m happy with the Legends. They’re my family and Ava, she’s my home.”

Nyssa abruptly stands up, making Sara jump. “It was wrong of me to come. But I- I had to see that you were alright, belov-Sara. I had to see to it that you were safe and happy. And I- I can see that you are.” Sara gives Nyssa a smile. She really wanted to get back to Ava, god knows what horrible things she was telling herself in her head right now.

“Walk me out?” Nyssa asks.

“Sure.” As they walk, Sara feels a calmness spread over her body. She was never very sure of her choices or her decisions. She always felt like she was making the wrong ones. Letting people down, hurting them. Getting them killed or... killing them. Sara didn’t want to keep causing people pain. She didn’t want to keep second guessing and being unsure. But this time she felt so sure of Ava, she felt so sure of their life together. She knew for once in her many many lives that she was making the right choice. Nyssa turned to Sara.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Sara. This will most likely be my last attempts at communication with you. I- I need some time to reflect. And to heal.”

“Of course. Take care Nyssa. Maybe in a few years we can go on double dates.” Sara smirked and chuckled awkwardly. Nyssa couldn’t quite return the joy as her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and barely creased her cheeks.

“Maybe.” Nyssa said. And then she was gone.

Sara went back into her room where she found Ava pacing back and forth with her hands held tightly behind her back. Sara kind of wished Ava was wearing her pantsuit so she could get the full flash back of Ava when she was the slightly neurotic and uptight Time Bureau babe with a bad attitude. Sara smiled to herself thinking back on that Ava- and how far they both had come.

“Hey babe.” Sara could tell she had startled Ava out of her thoughts.

“Babe!” Ava said as she gasped. Sara gave Ava a look like come on, you should be used to this by now.

“So what did your scary former assassin girlfriend want and when should I pack my bags because you’re probably going to-” Sara pushed Ava against the wall, placed her hands on Ava’s sides and buried her face into Ava’s neck, ghosting her breath across Ava’s exposed skin and then putting her lips to it and lightly sucking. She felt like marking Ava up. Ava was her’s and she was Ava’s. She suddenly felt territorial. Giddy even. Hungry for Ava and Ava only. Ava pulled away, her heart pounding fast.

“What was that for?” Ava asked. “Not that I minded.” Ava bit her lip and looked like she wanted seconds of whatever Sara was serving.

“I love you so much, Ava.”

“I love you more.” Ava said. And Sara could tell that she meant it and it made her insides somersault and it made her center ache. But there was time for that later. Sara looked into Ava’s eyes.

“Ava, did you know you’re the love of all my lives?” Ava laughs loudly and Sara knows she wants to hear that laugh and be the reason for that laugh.

“Sara, did you know that I’m madly, truly, and deeply in love with you? Ava shoots back. Sara giggles and rolls over to snuggle into Ava.

“Yes, I may have suspected. Captain pantsuit.”

the end.

#avalance #sara lance #ava sharpe #nyssa al ghul

52 notes · View notes

rpmemesbyarat · 4 years ago

Conversation

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 4 "Haunted House" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

A girl died in this tub.

There's no record of any of these names except for one.

Oh, my god, there's two of them!

I own Halloween. It's my jam.

Halloween is the most important day of the year. It's the one day on the Gregorian calendar where you're allowed to go around terrifying children and not be branded a psychopath.

I am a future network news anchor who's super classy and has almost no fat on her body.

A lot of my fans are, like, friendless dumpy coeds at this or that nursing school in one of this country's various national armpits.

They put down their hot pockets and bask in the warm glow of what it feels like to love me.

I went shopping with my comatose grandmother's credit card and bought presents.

Oh, my god, it says my name!

I hope the severed leg brightens up your trailer park.

You're a bright light in my life, and I wanted you to know how much you impress me with your frumpy spirit.

You are so devastatingly mediocre and adorable!

I can't wait to see you in person, but before that, I'd like to see you post this all over social media, to exploit it for my own gain.

Aah! It's a rotting jack-o'-lantern!

Aah! This box is just filled with blood!

She got me a razor apple!

I stole this cadaver head from an ophthalmology student just for you.

You're the most important person in the world.

So you didn't see anyone in a red devil costume entering or leaving the house?

Are you coming to the precinct pig roast this year?

Come on, she's obviously the killer!

Do you mean to suggest I changed out of my nightgown, strapped myself into a skintight pleather red devil costume, climbed out a second-story dormer, and shimmied to the ground with a chain saw before entering a window I had left open, tried to kill you, then leapt out the window, climbed back up the wall, changed back into my nightgown,

and raced downstairs, all in the course of about 90 seconds?

Clearly that's got you a little freaked out.

I'm not gonna hold any of this against you, and I'm gonna let you be my date for the faculty Halloween party.

Attempted murder!

A guy was almost killed tonight, okay?

Now, no, I'm not a detective, hell, I ain't even a cop, but what I am is somebody who watched every one of those Cosby mysteries, okay?

See? Dismemberment!

I am so sorry that I pushed you out of my car and drove off real scared.

I just can't believe that How To Lose A Guy In 10 days is your favorite movie, too.

In precisely two and half minutes when we go in there, you let me do all the talking.

What are you dressed as?

Oh, you have a squirrel. Don't see that much anymore.

Breakfast is almost ready, we got meat today.

What can you tell us about that night?

Now, we will keep your name out of it, of course.

'm a vault,

And to get in this vault you need a key. Now, you may ask, a key to what? It's a key to meaning. Once you've found the meaning, you don't need the words. You know what I'm saying?

Please, continue with your story.

Have any of you ever heard of "negligent homicide"?

We need to dispose of this body on our own. Now, I've got everything we need in the kitchen to make sausages out of her.

I'm gonna go downstairs, shut this party down, and then we'll get the body out of here.

Somebody has to watch after the baby.

Can you at least turn on the radio?

Just leave the details to me.

We can't just act like this never happened.

She's the devil, that one.

I looked at that baby up close. I know my peas and carrots. That baby was a girl.

Your support doesn't matter.

My campaign needs a theme?

My pumpkin's drunk.

I'm hosting a haunted house to raise money for sickle cell anemia.

Why are you holding a fund-raiser, though?

I don't think you understand the magnitude of the miscalculation you just made.

I can assure you you will not be winning an election anytime soon. And when you lose, I am gonna make it my lifelong passion to destroy your reputation.

You're a stuck-up little sociopath, and everybody in this room knows it.

It might behoove you to recall that everyone here witnessed you actually murder someone

Just sharpening knives.

Put the knives down.

I don't know what came over me.

How very adolescent of you to think of this.

It vaguely smacks of something my six-year-old sister would be excited about.

It's the most disgusting disease in the history of mankind.

You get it when you don't even understand the most basic tenets of oral hygiene.

Just give the dang thing its pot of gold already!

I ain't got no candy!

Bet you're a sexy dirt-covered girl. That's what I bet you are.

Sometimes I come out here and I just rub my hands on the gravestones.

I get you more than anyone.

I also find the thought of dead bodies extremely arousing.

I just don't understand why I have all these dark feelings.

You know, I just think our generation's had it too easy, you know? We haven't seen enough horrible stuff. There's no awesome diseases randomly killing people. There's not really any awesome wars to go off to and witness horrific things you can't unsee. We, like, pulled out of all of 'em.

Sometimes I just don't even feel like I'm living, you know?

The only time I feel anything is when I'm thinking about chopping up a body.

And here you are, saddled up with an uptight girlfriend who freaked out for no other reason than the fact that you just wanted to fantasize about having sex with her lifeless corpse.

Oh, my god, I got a total chub right now.

Not scary enough.

She'll let you in the back door.

What could be scarier for an adult than a child coming to murder them?

Isn't that all of our greatest fear? That the pain, the regrets, the mistakes of our youth will destroy us in our adulthood? That we can't escape our inner child. One we would rather forget, but who, at the end of the day has all the power.

Why are you lying to me?

Something does not make sense.

You got to give me more here, okay?

I don't understand what you're getting at.

Are you on bath salts?

Why are we even here?

This house is haunted.

There's a legend in this neighborhood about a woman who wailed about her dead children. And this was the house she lived in.

These dumb ol' kids are smoking crack.

I think it's incredible what you can find out with just a quick trip down to your local library.

This can be one of the rooms for the haunted house.

What exactly do you plan on doing at this haunted house?

I was thinking we could blindfold folks and make 'em put their hands in a bowl full of grapes we peeled, so it'll feel like eyeballs.

I think the reason you want to have a haunted house party is 'cause a haunted party is like a buffet for murderers.

Yeah, yeah, you can just go around killing anybody you want and ain't nobody even gonna even notice.

Just like you chopped the arms off that dumb-ass golf guy.

Why do you have it out for me?

So now you look at me and see everything you could've been.

I hope you have a good time at you haunted party and get to murder lots of folks.

You have this way too thought out.

Isn't this kind of nice?

My sense of personal identity is completely external.

I really don't have much to offer.

I've found that my particular style of speaking and gesticulation is extremely off-putting to most boys. And girls. And anyone.

I need to eat. My blood sugar is crashing.

I'm tired of depriving myself of joy and sustenance.

I may die at the end of a serial killer's blade, but I refuse to die hungry.

Which one of you ladies would like to be my costume for Halloween? I'm going as "dude having awesome sex with you."

I mean, what in the hell's wrong with the world where a guy can't even whistle at a chick just to tell her she looks hot?

I recently took a women's studies class. Yes, because it was a requirement, but I learned a lot anyways. Like the culture that says it's okay for a man to objectify a woman for her appearance is the same culture that pressures girls as young as ten to have eating disorders.

So you're basically saying I'm the one responsible for making you look hot?

When you treat us like meat, you're no better than him!

I'm not really sure how you got my number, but I like how you took the initiative and texted me where you wanted us to meet.

Do you think you're man enough to take me inside that house and attack my crack?

I'll sure this house has an amazingly romantic basement.

Hey, so, uh, a little awkward since we're about to bone down and everything, but, um, what's your name?

Smells like roadkill.

I've never been so scared in my whole life.

All right, if we go to the police, they're gonna see I'm still rocking a mad sidepipe, and they're gonna think I had something to do with it.

We have to warn people.

All right, everybody listen up! All of your lives are in danger!

There are dead bodies! Dead bodies. Real-life dead bodies.

Did you say dead bodies?

Those are like the most lifelike dead bodies I've ever seen.

Is that a real dead body?

There are five dead bodies in that house. Laid out in horrible and deliberate macabre poses.

You are not leaving this house tonight.

You make it harder and harder to believe that you're not the killer.

I found out something really interesting, and now I have a theory.

Everything is weird about that story.

I mean, it's too big a coincidence.

We have to figure out who that woman was.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #scream queens

15 notes · View notes

khunfounded · 4 years ago

Text

Of Larks and Katydids

[I finally wrote words again! It feels so good to be back. I hope you like it!

Small trigger warning: Bam bites into his hand hard enough to draw blood]

Bam curled tighter into the corner of his room, burying his face in his knees. His hair was out of its ponytail. It cascaded down around him, concealing him from the outside world. Usually he hated it, this reminder that he was changed irreparably, that there were pieces of himself that he would never get back, but he took refuge in the protection it gave him now. It was a safeguard against the eyes, the voices that echoed throughout the Wolhaiksong compound.

He bit into the meat of his index finger He had had no idea that freedom from his loneliness could be so overwhelming. It made him feel horrible. Bam must be the worst kind of person to be so ungrateful for this gift he had been given, but he couldn’t help it.

It had started with the celebration of their escape from the Workshop. Everyone was laughing and hugging, joy arcing through the room like lightning. But as the night went on, Bam felt as if his lungs were giving out. After years of being alone, of having almost no one, he didn’t know what to do. It had been different when he had been a part of team Sweet and Sour, because he still had his objective, he was still unequivocally Viole.

Now though, he didn’t know what he was, who he was allowed to be.

It got worse with each shout of his name.

Viole.

Bam.

Viole!

Bam?

Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole. Bam. Bam. Bam. Viole. Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole. Bam. Bam. Bam. Viole. Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole. Bam. Bam. Bam. Viole. Bam. Viole. Viole. Bam. Viole.

His breath hitched. His throat felt tight. He bit into his hand a little harder. He wished that there was an easy answer, that he could be unmistakably one or the other. Instead, he felt simultaneously like a grotesque amalgamation of the two and like not enough of a person to be either.

He had hoped that as time went on he would get better, get used to it. But each day in the compound made the pressure behind his eyes build up even more, until the only thing that kept him from blowing up was hiding away from everyone’s gazes. Bam was sure that people were noticing his increasing absences. He could see the concern in the downturn of Shibisu’s lips and the furrow of Khun’s brow. He couldn’t help it, though. There was a terrified, cornered animal part of him that just wouldn’t let go.

He began to rock back and forth, as invisible hands clung to him. They grabbed at his neck, his ankles, his very viscera. They covered his eyes, and everything started to get hazy around the edges.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Bam jolted. His mouth filled with the taste of copper. He took his finger away from his mouth.

“Bam,” Khun’s muffled voice called out, “You’re late for dinner. That annoying crocodile won’t stop asking where you are”.

Bam curled up tighter. His lights were off, so maybe if he stayed silent Khun would think he was somewhere else. He didn’t want his friend to see him like this, all shattered glass and torn up pages.

“Bam, I know you’re in there. No one’s seen you anywhere around the compound all day”.

Bam kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t help letting out a small whimper. He should have known better. He never was very lucky. His hand throbbed.

There was a sigh from the other side of the door.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

No, not okay. Very, absolutely, not okay.

Bam tucked his face between his knees and covered his head with his hands. The door creaked as it opened, sending a shiver down his spine.

He expected Khun to say something, anything, but instead a heavy silence filled the air. The hush pulled Bam’s head up. Khun was backlit from the light in the hall, giving him a golden aura. He was far too radiant to be looking so upset, especially over Bam.

Their eyes met, and Bam could see Khun processing. He had seen that face countless times before, so he knew that when Khun’s features smoothed out he had made his decision, whatever it was.

Khun shut the door and turned on the lights.

Bam tensed as Khun made his way towards him slowly, like he was approaching a cornered animal. He kind of was, in a way. Bam certainly didn’t feel human right now.

Khun lowered himself to the floor next to him, crossing his legs. He set his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. Bam hunched in on himself even more, though he couldn’t help staring at his friend through the trellises of his hair. Khun wasn’t looking at him, keeping his gaze on the wall opposite, but his eyes were soft.

“You know,” Khun said, voice low in the throat, as if talking any louder would break the gentle aura bathing them, “When Lero Ro told us you were gone, the crocodile let out a scream that was practically a death knell. Shibisu wouldn’t stop sobbing”.

Khun turned his head. His blue, blue eyes met Bam’s own.

“I didn’t say anything, though. I just walked out of the room and threw up into the nearest toilet”.

“Khun-ssi…” Bam murmured, unable to think of how to respond. He had spent long hours late into the night thinking of what happened to his friends after he disappeared, but he hadn’t expected that they would react so strongly to his death. He could hardly imagine the snarky, collected Khun of the Test Floor broken down like that, because of him.

“When I found out you were alive, that you had been taken by FUG, I didn’t know how to react. All I knew was that I had to find you again. There was nothing else that was more important. Nothing”.

Khun was silent for a moment and Bam let his words sink in. He didn’t know what to do. This was Khun laying himself bare, giving up pieces of himself that he usually hid from the world at all costs, and he was doing it for Bam.

“It felt like waking up from the longest nightmare of my life when we got you back,” Khun’s lips lifted into a bittersweet smile, “Life finally felt real, again”.

Bam sucked in a breath. Khun turned his body towards him and gently, ever so gently, rested a hand over Bam’s injured one. Without thinking, Bam clasped their hands together tightly. Khun’s thumb rubbed soothing circles into Bam’s knuckles. Bam watched where they were connected and he felt something shift in his chest.

“What I mean to say is,” Khun said, picking each word with care, “What I mean to say is that nothing is going to change my mind about you, about how necessary you are to me. So you can talk to me, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not walking away”.

Bam’s eyes grew misty. He lifted a shaking hand to push his hair out of his face, meeting Khun’s stare. Silence reigned for several long moments as Bam ruminated. He had no idea what to say, if he should even say anything at all. Despite his assurances, Bam was terrified of how Khun would react if he knew just how broken and confused he really was.

But when Bam looked up, there was something in Khun’s eyes, in the lines of his face, that told Bam that he would stay.

Bam took a breath, clinging tighter to Khun’s hand for strength.

“I,” Bam started, shuttered, started again, “I don’t know who I am anymore. If I’m Jyu Viole Grace, or if I’m the Twenty-Fifth Bam. Everyone else seems to know but I just, I don’t. I don’t know”.

He swallowed down the aching in his throat, free hand picking at the loose threads in his pants. His eyes searched Khun’s, looking for some kind of answer to this question that plagued him.

“Who am I, Khun-ssi?”

Khun hmmed, tilting his head, before he asked, “Well, who do you want to be?”

Bam was struck. He had never thought about that before. He didn’t know that that was an option, that he could choose. Ever since he could remember there was someone else deciding for him. Rachel telling him that he was the Twenty-Fifth Bam. FUG telling him that he was Jyu Viole Grace. Everyone telling him that he was an ally, an enemy, a monster, a god.

But, who did he want to be? He wanted to be someone strong enough to protect his friends, someone brave enough to face the Tower with them. He wanted so many things. But as he looked at Khun’s warm, understanding eyes, he realized there was something more he wanted to be. He wanted to be himself.

He squeezed Khun’s hand tightly, confessing, “I think I want to be Bam. Just Bam”.

Khun’s lips quirked up, “Well, I think Just Bam is perfect”.

Bam lowered his head, cheeks heating up. His hair fell in front of his face, but Khun reached over and pushed it back behind his ears. That was the thing about Khun, he never let Bam hide, and Bam was grateful for it, no matter how scary it was. He wanted to be seen by Khun. He wanted to be known by him.

Bam looked up and whispered, “Thank you, Khun-ssi”.

“Of course,” Khun replied easily, before scrunching up his nose, “Now what are we going to do about that hair?”

Bam raised a hand to his head, “My hair?”

Khun knocked his index finger against his chin, “Your hair. I’ve noticed you don’t seem to like it very much. You avoid mirrors and you don’t maintain it at all.

“Besides,” Khun smirked, “Long hair doesn’t seem to fit Just Bam to me”.

Bam blinked at his friend, gaping. Leave it to Khun to be able to notice something no one else did, something that Bam tried desperately not to let show.

“I could cut it for you,” Khun offered.

“Cut it?” Bam murmured. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now that it was brought up he wanted desperately for it to happen, for this reminder of his aching loneliness to be gone, “Yes, please”.

“Your wish is my command,” Khun grinned and got up, pulling Bam with him as he headed to the ensuite bathroom. Khun didn’t let go of his hand until he sat Bam down sideways on the toilet. He rummaged through the sink drawers before he triumphantly pulled out a pair of scissors.

“Okay,” He said, moving to stand behind Bam, a soothing presence at his back, “How do you want to do this?”

Bam thought for a moment, biting his thumb, before he decided, “Can you make it short, please? Like it was before”.

“You got it”.

The first cut felt like a hallelujah, like it was more than just the physical weight of his hair that was falling away. Unbidden, a tear slipped down Bam’s cheek. He closed his eyes and smiled.

The rest of the haircut went by in comfortable silence as more and more strands fell to the floor. Each trim unlocked chains that he didn’t even know were binding him, until he finally felt like he could breathe again.

After the last cut, Khun brushed the hair off of Bam’s shoulders and maneuvered him over to the mirror, “Here we go”.

For a long moment, all Bam could do was stare at the mirror, blinking. He brought a hand up to his mouth as tears welled up in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks.

For the first time in years, he looked into the mirror and saw himself.

“Bam? Are you okay?” Khun asked nervously, voice pitched oddly, hovering around him, “Did I do something wrong?”

Bam couldn’t bring himself to say actual words, so he channeled Miseng and turned around, hugging Khun tightly. His hands fisted in Khun’s shirt and he buried his face in his shoulder. Khun was frozen for several moments before he hesitantly relaxed and wrapped his arms around Bam.

“Thank you,” Bam whispered through his tears, sniffling.

“Anytime,” Khun replied softly, hooking his chin over Bam’s shoulder and rubbing circles into his back, “Anything”.

When Bam’s tears finally dried up, he murmured, “I’m tired. Could you stay tonight? With me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay”.

It took a while before either of them could part, but when they did, Bam grabbed Khun’s hand. They walked into the bedroom, before flicking off the light and shuffling under the covers of the bed. Khun laid flat on his back and Bam curled up next to him, resting his head against his friend's chest.

“Thank you, Khun,” Bam said again, into the hushed silence.

“Like I said,” Khun replied, carding his hands through Bam’s newly shorn hair, “Anytime”.

“I know,” Bam traced nonsense patterns onto Khun’s shirt, “But I mean for more than just the haircut. For finding me, for knowing me, for being there. For everything, Khun”.

Khun’s hand clasped his, “That’s what I mean, too”.

They were quiet for a long while, just enjoying each other’s presence, before Bam asked, “Do you think birds dream, too?”

Bam felt Khun’s surprised chuckle rumble through his chest, “What brought this up?”

“I don’t know, I was just wondering”.

Khun hummed, brushing his thumb across Bam’s hand, before he said, “Well, the scientific answer is that birds exhibit signs of REM sleep, though scientists don’t know if they actually dream. The philosophical answer, I think, is that no one can stay sane in absolute reality. Even larks and katydids must dream”.

“What do you dream about?” Bam asked.

“You”.

“Oh,” Bam blushed, “Me too. I mean, I dream about you, not myself. Though obviously I’m there, too, otherwise I wouldn’t be dreaming and all and please feel free to shut me up anytime now”.

“Nah,” Khun said, scritching the base of Bam’s head, “I like hearing you talk”.

Bam buried his face in Khun’s chest and groaned. He really hoped Khun couldn’t see how red he was, “You’re no fair, Khun”.

“I never said I was. In fact, it’s my trademark not to be”.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bam huffed, “You’re a coldhearted mastermind with countless evil tricks up your sleeve”.

“You better believe it,” Khun smoothed Bam’s hair down, “Now, I think it’s time for all good Bams to go to bed”.

“Kay,” Bam mumbled, closing his eyes, “Night, Khun”.

“Goodnight, Bam”.

Bam listened absently to the lullaby of Khun’s heartbeat as he drifted off. Just as everything was fading away, he felt a soft kiss against the top of his head and for the first time in years, Bam felt content. He pressed his lips to Khun’s chest, over his heart, and let sleep take him.

He dreamt of pastel colors and soothing lights. Nothing coherent, but something that was full of joy and safety.

A soft melody played in his head, before it was interrupted by obnoxiously loud banging. Bam shot straight up as Khun rubbed his eyes groggily and complained, “Ugh, what is that?”

“Turtles!” Came a shout through the door, “What are you doing? You missed dinner!”

Rak slammed open the door and turned on the lights, much to Khun’s dismay. Bam saw that he was carrying two trays of food in his arms. Rak shoved the trays into both of their laps as he declared, “You’re not useful prey if you’re too weak to fight! Eat!”

“Thank you, Rak-ssi,” Bam smiled, grabbing his fork and following Rak’s orders.

“I keep telling you,” Khun grouched, stuffing stir fry into his mouth, “We’re not your prey, you idiotic crocodile”.

Rak jumped up onto the bed and snatched the fruit off of Khun’s tray, “Just for that, I’m taking your banana. You don’t deserve it, Blue Turtle!”

For some reason, that made Khun choke. Bam patted his back as he coughed. Rak threw the banana peel into the trashcan across the room, and ate the entire thing in one bite. Bam would have been impressed if he hadn’t seen the crocodile shove five into his mouth at once.

After Khun recovered, he muttered, “I hate you so much”.

“You say that about everyone that’s not the Black Turtle, Blue Turtle. Your words mean nothing”.

Khun sputtered again. Bam swore that one day his friend would die of asphyxiation if those two kept up with their antics, and he didn’t want that to happen. He liked Khun. Khun was his most precious friend.

“Please don’t kill each other,” Bam begged.

“No promises,” They replied simultaneously, making them glare at each other fiercely. Bam giggled, leaning into Khun’s shoulder.

Rak turned to him and squinted his reptilian eyes, “There’s something different about you, Black Turtle. What is it?”

“Seriously?” Khun scoffed, “Are you blind? Do we need to find you an optometrist? Get you some glasses?”

Bam gently slapped Khun’s hand, but before he could move his own away, Khun grabbed it and intertwined their fingers. Bam smiled, turning to Rak.

“Khun-ssi cut my hair, Rak-ssi”.

“Oh,” Rak said, before he huffed, “Good, this is much better! Now I can see the fear in your eyes when I hunt you down!”

“Sure thing,” Bam grinned.

Bam felt warm, and he thought that maybe he didn’t need to dream, if this was his reality. He was between the two people he had missed more than anything, and they saw him, accepted him.

As his two friends bickered, he remembered a conversation in the cafeteria during the Floor of Test. Everyone was talking about the things they missed from home, food and pets and stores. Bam had been confused because he didn’t miss anything about the cave, except for Rachel, who wasn’t even there anymore.

But now he knew. The cave wasn’t home, this was.

He tugged both of his friends into a tight hug, abruptly ending their argument. Rak was quick to hug back, squeezing the life out of him, but Khun just quirked his brow.

“What’s this all about?”

“Nothing,” Bam beamed at him, “I’m just really happy right now”.

At his reply, Khun smiled and tucked Bam’s head under his chin, pulling him (and subsequently Rak) in close.

“I’m glad” he murmured, and in that moment there was nothing more that needed to be said.

Except maybe, “Turtles, you dropped your food on the bed”.

#khunbam #rakhunbam #tower of god #kami no tou #my writing

35 notes · View notes

captain-yeet · 5 years ago

Text

It’s A Little Awkward (Demetri Volturi x Fem Vampire!Reader)

Requested by @like-rain-or-confetti

Summary: You met your mate the moment you opened your eyes to your new immortal un-life. He wasn’t what you expected, and with pent up frustration at a life you didn’t ask for exploding you ran from him. Circumstances cause the two of you to reunite unexpectedly.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: call me Avatar A A N G S T, baby. And repressed romantic feelings.

Life sucked and then you died, and woke up again. New. Strong. Too strong. Everything grated your senses and all you knew was fear.

Soaked from head to toe from a heavy flow of rain from above, you remember laying in a damp alleyway feeling... blank. It took a moment to even remember your name. The next thing you remembered were teeth in your shoulder. Fear clouded all your senses until someone hovered over you.

A man whose face brought you a sense of comfort unknown to you.

He helped you to your feet and shortly after you left with him. The calmness he brought to you was almost unnerving, with how foreign it was to your new body. You learned his name was Demetri, and when he whisked you away from the scary alleyway to the city of Volterra to his masters you learned another thing; soulmates existed. Or rather, the vampire equivalent of soulmates.

Joy filled your being at the prospect - a life partner! Someone to be there for you always. And Demetri was perfect.

Come your first feeding time, however, the joy turned into horror, and horror led to punishment by your new master’s orders via a piercing stare from a young blonde teen and even more crushing, disappointment from your mate. So what did you do?

Panic, and smash through one of the Volturi castle’s many windows in the dead of night, sprinting through the streets and to the countryside as fast as you could.

You’d been a nomad for six months now, travelling aimlessly around the world, going wherever you wanted. The Eiffel Tower? You climbed it for fun at 3 am once. The Grand Canyon? Been there, saw that, ate a tourist who catcalled you.

Nothing held you back anymore.

Your new immortal life would be one that didn’t feel fear ever again. If you wanted to explore? You would do so. If you wanted to run away from crazy Italian vampires who liked to mind torture you? You sure as shit did just that.

One thing stayed on your mind though; Demetri.

God, you hated how things left off with him. After Jane’s punishment session was over you stormed up to your shared quarters with Demetri and the row you two had practically shook the castle walls. He couldn’t understand why you were so adverse to feeding the way he did, you couldn’t understand why he would see it as horrible.

“You’re literally rounding up innocent people to die, Dem,” you had hissed, baring your teeth as you did so, anger fueled by your newborn instincts.

“People no one would miss,” he snapped back dismissively, rolling his eyes at your reaction. “We do our homework, cara mia.”

“Oh my god!?” You walked away from him to stare out the window, hands in your hair gripping the roots in frustration. “That does not make it okay? And don’t get me started on the pit where you dispose of the bodes...”

Demetri sighed from behind you. “You’re a vampire now Y/N. Feeling bad for your diet is a habit you can’t afford to have anymore. It’s how you will survive.”

A violent snarl ripped through your throat, startling yourself and him. “It’s not that! I don’t mind the whole hunting humans thing. It’s your coven’s methods that I find completely messed up.”

“Our coven,” he corrected you.

You stared at each other in silence. After a few minutes went by, Demetri shook his head.

“I have to go sort some things now, collect yourself before I return, love.”

That. That response triggered your furious, panicked escape from Volterra. And here you were, standing on some random cliff in the wilderness of the Pacific North-West, regretting ever speaking to him that way.

Granted, you felt justified in your feelings. And he was being insensitive. Regardless, the mate’s pull still held strong and you wondered as you stared off at the rising sun if it felt as strong still for him too.

“Hey, there you are,” a silky sweet voice called to you from behind.

Turning around, your dark red eyes locked with the golden ones of Rosalie Hale. A newfound friend of yours.

She waltz forward and took your hand in hers, a comforting grip. “Come now, training is about to begin.”

Training, right. With a huff, you let the blonde lead you through the forest.

You found yourself allied with Rosalie and her coven for a bizarre reason. Apparently, some Romanian vampires had lost the plot and wanted to claim one of their own as their shared mate. A hybrid. And they wanted to make their own with her.

And they had gathered an army to do so.

At first you thought it was a load of steaming horse shit. When you entered the area, Rosalie and the patriarch of her coven, Carlisle, confronted you, asking you who you were. After proving you were just a random passing through they told you of their situation and asked a favour of you; “Come and see why we want to protect this particular coven member. I assure you, once you meet her, you’ll understand.”

You agreed. You followed. And then you saw her.

A pretty young teenager, with red cheeks and soft chocolate brown eyes who barely spoke apart from her strange form of thought projection and excited hand flapping when she goofed off with her family.

She was just a kid. A fucking kid.

And now, here you were, gathered with the Cullens, some smelly shapeshifter folks from a local rez and many strange vampires. You were willing to fight for what you felt was right - and hey, if a couple of creepy Romanians had to die, then so be it.

Jasper and Carlisle stood before the group with serious expressions.

“We have some news,” Carlisle began, “and while we know this will no doubt upset you all, we ask that you keep calm.”

“The Volturi are coming,” Jasper deadpanned.

Your heart, if it could beat still, jumped. Your old coven, your mate, were coming. A question burst to your lips before you could stop it. “How soon?”

Jasper eyed you with a curious glint in his eye, sensing your emotions. “Within the next couple of hours.”

So soon! You began to feel panic rise in your chest.

A hand clamped itself firmly on your shoulder. You looked and saw Emmett and Rosalie has flitted to your side, expressions of concern on their faces. It surprised you to no end just how kind they were to you even after they found out you were mated to a Volturi guard. From what you’d heard they had every right to not like you, but instead they welcomed you. Accepted you.

“We know Y/N,” Emmett said softly, “we have your back, no need to worry about your ex.”

“If he has any brains he’ll come to his senses when he sees you,” Rosalie added, leaning into Emmett’s side. “Or the time apart will have given him much time to think on his actions.”

It pained you to watch the two lovebirds find comfort in each other’s touch. Your mind traveled back to when you and Demetri first began to get to know each other; he was a great comfort to you. Gentle, none of his touches were rough or hurt you. Just the pure, sweet feeling of feeling safe and loved.

The hours droned on for you, and sure enough, your old coven appeared in full force.

The masters led a group of what looked like their best fighters, just from the colours of their cloaks. You vaguely understood the colour-coding of the ranks of guards in the coven. Two black cloaks stood out to you; the tall hulking mass that was Felix on one side of the masters, who caught you in his sight. His eyes widened and he looked to his right, where on the opposite side of the masters was your mate.

Demetri stared at you looking like a bus has slammed into him, lips parting in shock.

“Welcome!” Carlisle called out to the Volturi.

“Ah, Carlisle,�� came Aro’s smooth reply. He floated to Carlisle and took his hand in his, reading the memories greedily. “What an interesting time for us all. Fighting on the same side!”

“They harbour traitors in their midst!” Caius snapped, his eyes locked on you with a death glare.

You shrank as everyone’s eyes came onto you. You didn’t know where to look so you simply kept your eyes to the ground.

“Y/N, what a surprise!” Aro cooed, ignoring his fellow leader’s cry of annoyance at his response. “I’m sure you and Demetri have much to catch up on.”

Lifting your head, your gaze shifted to your mate, whose stare had not let up at all. No, he stared at you with such an intensity that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Luckily for you, the attention on you and Demetri faded as Jasper began going over battle plans against the Romanians. The day went on quickly yet somehow slowly at the same time; sparring training took place and that went smoothly. But Demetri’s presence made the day drone on longer.

You needed to speak with him.

As the sun began to set, a day’s worth of training and going over battle plans done and dusted, you seeked out the cliff Rosalie had found you at earlier. The scenery up there was beautiful and it gave you some peace of mind.

You sat at the edge with your hand raised, watching your skin glitter and shine luminously as you turned your wrist. You didn’t flinch when the wind whipped your face as someone appeared at your side, standing next to you.

“It’s a nice view up here,” Demetri said quietly.

You hummed in agreement. “It really is.”

He shifted, and took a seat beside you. You turned your head to look at him. Your love had not ceased to look utterly handsome in the time you’d been apart. A sadness lingered in his eyes, the kind of sadness that had implanted itself into one’s being after a time of great grief. But he gave you a small smile. “I want to apologise to you, Y/N.”

Tilting your head to the side, you shifted your body toward him, showing him you were listening.

“I was harsh on you. You had just been turned and you weren’t comfortable with how we - how I fed. And I tried to force my beliefs on you, which I should not have. And the thing with Jane -”

Sighing, you squeezed your eyes shut, flinching at the memory.

“I am so sorry I stood by and let that happen to you.” You felt his hand encase itself around one of yours with the lightest of touches, hesitant. “What happened between us hasn’t changed how I feel about you in the slightest.”

That made you open your eyes. Snapping your head back up with hopeful, wide eyes, you scanned his face for any sign of a lie; there wasn’t any. “It’s been so painful being apart,” you whimpered. “I don’t regret leaving the Volturi at all but shit, I hate how we left things. How I left you, the one person who made me feel safe and secure.”

Raising your hand to his face, you hovered over his cheek, the hunger you had for him growing rapidly. Would he still let you touch him in such a way?

Answering your doubtful thoughts, he brought your hand to his face, holding it there. Turning his head slightly he pressed his lips to your hand. “I miss you. Let us work something out, please. I’ll buy us a house away from the Volturi, I’ll do anything.” A shaky sob made his body shudder and his gaze turned pleading, begging you. “I can’t live without you.”

That was all it took. Your body moved before you could respond with words and you took his face in your hands and kissed him desperately, sealing your fates together. You’d fought against your feelings long enough; the months apart hurt more than anything you’d ever experienced - even rivaling the thirst of blood - and now you needed Demetri more than anything.

He grinned against your lips, laughing breathlessly. “I’ll take that as a good sign?”

Giggling, you pulled back to smile at him. “I have never felt more sure about anything.”

His hand intertwining with your, you nestled into his side and watched the sun set. For the first time in a while, you felt secure again. As long as you had Demetri by your side, you were ready to finally make something of your second life.

#I had fun with this one!#love me some angsty moments with my boi Demetri <33333 #my fics #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #vampire reader #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #volturi #the volturi #twilight saga fanfiction

219 notes · View notes

onelastbreath-writes · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Meet You There (Part 3)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Talks about loss of spouse, loss of child, medical conditions/inaccuracies, grief/mourning, manipulation/brainwashing (subtext/implied, but we’ll get into it later *winkwink*)

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry, and now I’m just making stuff up as I go along

Summary(lite): You are Marcus’s wife, and you’re definitely not dead. No one is having a great time right now, but like hell if there's a force on this earth that’ll keep you apart forever. This is not a goodbye, its just a see you later. And the interim is going to be everyone else’s problem, you’ll make sure of it.

A/N: Hello dears, welcome back to my twisted mind story,,, guess who showed up like 2 weeks late with a smoothie! So things about this new chapter: I am a criminal with italics and someone needs to stop me, hello switching scenes and perspectives because I just want to fast forward to the good stuff but y’all don’t live in my head and don’t know all the stuff that happens to get us there so here we are taking the slow lane, and I keep brainstorming new and horrible things for my characters because I am A Lot, All The Time, and will not be stopped. Also hey, Marcus the Simp is here for you, so much. I hope this is acceptable to be a reader fic still, because I am giving you some serious personality traits... ehh, it is what it is. Tell me if you spot any of my various references, there’s a lot of ‘em. Thanks to everyone who has liked/reblogged/commented, y’all are gorgeous and I’m so grateful for the love <3 Drop me a message/ask if you want a secret about one of the characters (specify which one), I need an outlet for my endless b.t.s. plotting >;) Please enjoy p3!

AO3|Masterlist

[Previous Part]

---

There were more casseroles in his fridge that Marcus knew what to do with, and more sympathy and “thinking of you” cards stacked in piles around the house than he could count. He appreciated everyone’s gestures, but he could recognize the difference between people who were kind in the interest of helping others, and those who were kind only to help themselves. It was quite obvious which type were flooding his mailbox.

Hell, most of the people sending him cards, his fans, didn’t even know his wife, never spoke to her, didn’t feel the empty Her-shaped-space in their very souls. They just wanted the clout, the prestige, of being ‘involved’ and sympathetic to a grieving superhero. It was exhausting, but no one seemed to empathize with him on that.

The Heroics upper management, and the director specifically after his press conference and the publicity the attack had brought the organization, had insisted on Marcus taking an undetermined amount of leave from the team so he could “process and mourn his loss in the comfort of his own home.” Like he didn’t look around and see every piece of himself and his wife over the years; the Home they built for their family, filled with all the hopes and dreams of two starry eyed lovers ready to take on the world together. Like her absence wasn’t slowly killing him.

And it wasn’t like she was gone gone.

Dead.

She wasn’t dead.

No way in Hell.

Whether it was because she worked with superpowered people, her experience as a medical professional, or if she was just more paranoid than most, his wife was a planner, and she was prepared for this. “In the event of my death...," like she just knew it would be necessary.

Truthfully, she had schemes and contingencies and all manner of reactionary plans prepared for if (and when) the worst happened; terrified to be blindsided or caught unaware, unable to help those she would have been able to, if only if she had the time to think. Unpreparedness costs lives in both of their careers, and she refused to leave anything up to chance if possible. And so, she’d plan, and he’d listen.

All throughout their relationship, from before they’d even gotten serious enough to discuss marriage, to when they heard their unborn child’s heartbeat for the first time, and just on random weekday afternoons when they would take Missy for walks around the neighbourhood to show her the beauty in their lives, his wife would paint her theories and ideas like artwork. She’d tell him a story, full of action and mystery, humour and theatrics, tragic romance and harrowing adventure; she could spin a tale like she had a silver tongue, but she never lost herself in her own narratives. In the end, they were messages, lessons, for him to remember when everything was going wrong.

“It’s all about momentum, babe. Bleeding off energy and taking a bad hit instead of a fatal hit. You can’t just full stop; you’d absorb all the kinetic energy, and the resulting trauma will turn all your squishy internals into, like, body soup, which is just super unpleasant. And of course, head is always number one priority. Bracing for impact works better at giving you fewer serious injuries, especially for your neck and head. Muscles should absorb as much of the energy as possible, instead of letting it fall to your ligaments, discs, and nerves to take the force. So, tense up and roll in the case of a low air evacuation.”

Low air evac... she was concerned he was going to have to jump from an aircraft without a parachute at some point in his life. Which was probably accurate he’d admit, but still, he wasn’t hoping to actually need that plan.

Thankfully, it wasn’t always fire and brimstone with her, and she had many strange and terrible schemes to keep the common, everyday superhero family on their toes. Always carry at least two lip balms... never tell someone you don’t have plans for the evening... don’t smile in your mugshot... no clowns. Ever.

She was so weird, a total nerd, and so completely the girl of his dreams.

He loved teasing her about her unending train of thought, the brain that never sleeps, how she’d go on tangents while on tangents but always circle back around; even nicknamed her (quite cheekily, and because it made them both laugh) Doctor Batman, which was usually saved for when she was being particularly dramatic and gloomy. Turn the supercomputer off for a second, Bats, come see what Missy’s doing!

He was her anchor, always ready to pull her back to earth when she started drifting off too far from them, but he never asked and never wanted her to change. He adored her, silly or serious, or when she woke him up in the middle of the night to make him promise that he’d never get their kid(s) a pet owl (because they’re “scary”, and “our kids would be too powerful, Marcus. Promise me!”), or that in the event of them inviting a third to their bed, it would “absolutely never, ever, ever be Miracle. No way!”

He thought it was quite entertaining most of the time, listening to her plan for zombies and old gods and what to do if everyone just started hating cheese one day, but if it was all so important to her: having him remember this or agree to that, he’d accede to her requests in a heartbeat. Most of it was cute, harmless stuff he didn’t think would even happen, but sometimes she would hit him with serious stuff. Entirely out of left field, she’d go for his heart, and ask him for things that would hurt him, destroy him inside, if he ever had to follow through with it.

“Marcus, if it’s a choice between my safety- my life, and Missy’s? I’m always going to choose her. Kids come first, okay?”

She wasn’t superpowered, didn’t have a shred of anything other than pure, normal human in her, but she was easily the strongest person he knew. Fearless and brave, kinder than this world deserved, she’d do anything for the people she cared about. And she’d promised him, maybe as a way to repay him for all the things he’d agreed to over the years, that she’d move heavens and the earth to return to their family. That nothing in this world, or beyond, could keep her away. “Eventually,” she’d stared into his eyes, glossy with tears from how forcefully she believed, “I will find my way back to you. I swear it, so keep a weather eye on the horizon.” See? A whole-ass nerd, and he couldn’t have loved her more.

So, she wasn’t dead. Pure and simple. She was somewhere, somehow, and he was going to find her again.

---

“Marcus, the grieving process is different for everyone, but it is always unpredictable and painful. You will have days where you will feel like you haven’t made any progress, or even lost the progress you’ve previously made, but please know that this is natural; it's something everyone experiences, and that it doesn’t mean you’ve failed in your objective. Healing takes time, and a major part of recovery is learning to forgive yourself when you slip up. No one expects you to be back to normal tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Healing from grief is not a race, so we will go at your own pace, and we will work together to accomplish your recovery goals. You aren’t alone in this journey, and you don’t need to handle everything by yourself.”

The grief specialist he was seeing was someone he would describe as an “old soul”. She exuded the patience and peace of someone who had watched empires rise and fall, seen the turning of the wheel of time and drifted along with the current. Her voice was deep, rich in emotion and empathy for those who needed guidance, calming and intriguing with a soft lilt on her vowels. Timeless and ancient all in one, and even if he wasn’t actually mourning the death of his wife, he did find himself deeply grieving being without her. They were two halves of a whole, and though his soul was at a loss without its partner here, he still had their greatest creation, their pride and joy, their baby girl to raise.

He would do whatever he had to do to be the best parent he could for Missy. And so, if meeting with a physiatrist every week was something that would help, then he would be here, every week. He'd learn to live with his grief, his sadness and loneliness, with just the memory of his Everything, and he’d help their kid with all hers too.

It’s what he promised to do, after all.

“If anything ever happens to me, you’ll just have to love her enough for the both of us.”

---

There was nothing they could recover of the people closest to centre of the explosion. No remains, no blood, nothing. Like they hadn’t been there at all.

Suspicious.

Upper Management had brought in a team of private investigators to handle the case, people who would keep the details quiet and the public appeased with what little information they’d choose to release.

Marcus was a superhero, and sure, his job was to hit things until they weren’t a problem anymore, but he couldn’t understand why all the highly trained professionals didn’t question the sheer amount of evidence that just wasn’t adding up.

He tried to bring up the inconsistencies once with the lead investigator, but they had just given the distraught, widowed husband, so lost in his own denial and grasping at straws, a sad smile and told him they would do everything they could to find the truth for him and the rest of the victims’ families.

Typical.

After being brushed off without a second thought, he decided to keep his ideas quiet, and since they’d proven their unwillingness to listen, he’d just have to solve the mass disappearance himself.

“Have you ever thought about how to commit the perfect murder, mi amor? I have. First: If there’s no body, they can’t prove the person is dead. No evidence of death? No murder. Simple. But of course, completely vanishing a full human would be a challenge. Short of having the superpowers necessary to, like, erase someone from reality in their entirety, there would be a lot of chances to leave evidence. Ordering suspicious chemicals leaves a trail, driving out to a pig farm in the middle of the night is shady as hell and all neighbors are professional narcs, and fires? Hah! Do you have any idea how hot the fire needs to be to cremate human remains, and how long they would need to grill for? Huh, maybe the perfect murder isn’t a murder at all...

Hey babe...

Always doubt a body, but always doubt no body, more.”

---

You tended to lose time when there was no one else in your room. It was hard to tell when your eyes were open because you started dreaming about the only things you could see since you first woke up: drop-ceiling tiles, white walls, and pale blue curtain dividers. And it was easier that way, in the end. Your heart didn’t hurt when you only dreamt of the room. You couldn’t mourn the things and people only your soul could remember if you thought of the room. Drifting in and out of consciousness was how you were coping.

---

You had been here, left in this room alone, for ages. You had agreed to help the man who had saved you from the explosion that killed your family, but apparently you couldn’t help him until you had recovered enough. You’d read your charts, grilled your nurses and doctors more and more the longer you were kept here. What were they all waiting for? There was nothing wrong with you except the mild post traumatic amnesia, and the whole not-remembering-much-(or anything, really)-about-your-personal-life-and-family-of-the-recent-few-years thing you had going on. It was nothing compared to when you first awoke and could remember nothing. It killed you to be without the memories of your husband and child, to know only of them instead of actually knowing them, but there was nothing you or the doctors here could do. The brain was a tricky thing, and you had to accept that your memory loss might be permanent.

That just meant that you had to put all that you could remember to good use. You could help people here, and work towards getting justice for your family. Years and years of school, practical experience and training, you had gained it all back; re-read textbooks and studies, wrote papers on your re-emerging knowledge and jogged your memory about long nights and early mornings, surgeries and follow ups... it was all still in your head. It had returned to you easily, like diving into a cool pool on a hot summer day. It was like coming home and taking off your shoes; it felt good, freeing, as-it-should-be.

But still they weren’t letting you leave. So: what were they waiting for?

“Ah, Doctor, it’s lovely to see you, as always. How are we feeling today?” Okay, so the guy who “saved” you (read: paid the people who actually saved your life) gave you the heebie-jeebies. He looked like a classic pompous asshole bigwig, like, oil tycoon or something. And he definitely had some sort of thing for you. Gross.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, trapped in a room with nothing to do, you know, brain rotting, et cetera. Thanks for asking.” The sass was a choice, probably not a great choice, but your choice none-the-less. You really hadn’t had many opportunities to choose anything for yourself in a while.

Well...

You were bored, and that was going to be everyone else’s problem.

“Ah, well, good news then! You have been cleared from observation and you’ll be able to be discharged soon. Isn’t that just delightful!” Mister Craig (“Please, just Greg is fine”), was some sort of horrible group hallucination, you were convinced. No one was that cheery, that animated, unless they were on something, or you were on something. “I’ll have someone bring you your personal effects shortly, and then I can show you to your new apartment. The complex isn’t in the best neighbourhood unfortunately, but it's got some real charm, very vintage! You’ll love it!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it then; sounds like it’ll be a real interesting place to stay. You can also explain what it is I’m going to be doing with your organization. Because you haven’t specified yet. And I expect a proper contract and wage agreement. Legally binding preferably, for your sake, of course, Mr. Craig.” Even if you weren’t the most physically intimidating person around, you knew how, and more so, when, to assert your dominance in a conversation. Especially with men like him. He was the type of guy who would pinch a nurse’s ass and then accuse them of not being able to take a joke.

“You wound me, Doctor, I am a man of integrity! I promised you an opportunity to make a difference! To get justice for the loved ones so cruelly torn from you! You have nothing to worry about!”

Sounds legit. Totally above board. Can’t wait.

---

Taglist (omg!! thanks love): @killtherandomness

Drop me a line if you want to be added <3

#we can be heroes #we can be heroes fanfiction #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #reader x marcus moreno #reader insert #Pedro Pascal #hurt/comfort #eventual happy ending #say hello to doctor batman lol. theres a whole thing i created just for that nickname to happen. ask me about it if you want XD #also you're a sassy BAMF. oops

10 notes · View notes