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nshtn · 18 days ago

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I once again cried for a second time and I need to hold this man so gentle against my chest in a way that muddies my ethical stances

to think that as I sent you "no you may not stack donuts on it" you were MAKING THIS TEN TIMES SADDER!!! //screaming!!!! //pos!!!!

The Future of a Past Life (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

1700 words, domesticity, themes of corporal punishment, recollections, established relationship, somehow fluffy, part of the lover, leader, liar series | Fic Directory

“What was your childhood like?”

“So what exactly made you think to do this?”

You appear caught off guard by such a question. Good. You should be.

Wesker had asked you to stay and eat with him after you’d surprised him with lunch from the sandwich shop he frequents. It was the least he felt he should do. Simply taking it and ushering you out felt wrong. How you’d discovered his preference was a mystery, though it would not surprise him if one of the team’s blabbermouths had spotted him there. He wasn’t shy about how often he frequented the store, but why should he be?

“Well, just…” You start, head nodding from side to side as you try to formulate your answer. You’re a peculiar thing to him. Always have been. “I heard you’ve done two all-nighters already this week and thought it would be nice.”

He’s already thanked you, but he hums another expression of gratitude before biting into his sandwich. He’d never tried this one in particular before. A ‘wedgie sandwich,’ you’d called it. Essentially just an Italian sub mashed between thin pizza dough. Messy, but certainly something he would get again.

“How much was mine?” Wesker asks, wiping away a dribble of sauce that had leaked onto his fingers. Gift or not, feelings of indebtedness were not optimal.

“It’s a mystery.” You smirk.

“Then I’ll call the shop and ask for the prices.” He replies, lip quirking just the tiniest bit as he slowly reaches for the rotary phone. You don’t budge. Maybe you know that he doesn’t know the number off the top of his head. The phone book is in the cabinet behind him. He could find it, but he decides not to. “Fine,” he relents. “I’ll just have to return the favor sometime.”

You often sit with him while he works. There wasn’t much for you to do around the facility given the different varieties of research were far beyond your expertise. You were Alpha Team’s field medic and the one in charge of maintaining their firearms back at the station. Virology was beyond your understanding. At least for now.

Sometimes you occupied yourself by trying to further your knowledge of him, asking questions that had been too far off the table of whatever it was that you two had been prior to what you were now. It was fine. You’d ask; he’d answer. You’d share; he’d listen. But then you inquired about… that.

“What was your childhood like?”

He’d decided to work at the kitchen table while you cooked. Your occasional banter was not unwelcome and he’d been meeting it with apt replies despite how absorbed he’d been in test results and future trial concepts.

Ink bleeds from where his pen had halted on the paper. Like a dark void staining the present, growing with each passing second that he doesn’t lift it. What should he tell you, hm? Should he tell you anything at all? Would it be wrong to regale you with the tales of his youth? He doubts you’d ever betray him. And, even if you did, so what? Other than a broken heart, there was little you could do to him.

“I…” He begins, but he doesn’t quite know where to start.

His bed was beside the window. A privilege of the school’s top students. The dormitory had cleared out entirely. They’d all gone home for the holiday. To their families… Everyone but him, of course.

He’s spending his eleventh Christmas alone. He’d done exactly the same for the past ten. What was one more?

Flakes of snow swirled beyond the glass. The cold bite of the wind leaked through the old seals, chilling him beneath his wool blanket. Albert tried his best to calm the chattering of his teeth and shivering shakes that rattled his body, but he couldn’t. The dorms always froze terribly in the winter. Normally the collective body heat of the others helped warm the room enough to be bearable.

It was forbidden to take another's bed, but the thought always left his skin crawling anyway. The others were unkempt and strange. Poor hygiene was a punishable offense, but it seemed to matter little in the eyes of the staff. Only rare cases of such were ever met with discipline. The occasional booger picker didn’t go unnoticed either.

He’d rather freeze than sleep in another’s rotten bed. He curls in on himself to conserve body heat. Tears bite at his eyes.

His body is numb when he wakes the next day. His legs refuse to stand. He hardly registers the chill of the floor.

Discipline…

To not rise this very instant is to be late. To be late is to miss the morning headcount. To miss this is to violate the rules.

Obedience…

Violations are acts of disobedience. Such acts beget punishment.

It takes every ounce of willpower to get on his feet and stumble to the bathrooms.

He must warm up enough to function. He has no choice. The heat of the shower burns white hot against his reddened skin.

Wesker makes it early to the morning headcount.

“I was raised in a boarding school.” He says cooly, pen still bleeding into the paper. Wesker’s eyes are locked onto the glass of water you’d placed in front of him long ago. Condensation drips along the sides and settles into the wood grain of the table. Your kindness to him will leave behind a mark on the furniture. “I lived there year round.”

There’s a pang of something in his chest when you turn from the stove to look at him. You’re wearing some silly ruffled maid apron that you thought would be far funnier than one of a more standard design. He has to clear the tightening of his throat before continuing.

“It was alright.”

A wooden yard stick slams down onto his bloodied knuckles for the umpteenth time.

He’d gotten into a fight. Another one of the boys, Andrew Haines, had accosted him in the courtyard. It wasn’t his fault the lad made a fool of himself in class. If he hadn’t wanted to be shown up by Wesker and his correct answer, he should’ve gotten the question right in the first place. That the teacher berated his classmate’s subpar performance was no fault of his own.

One sucker punch was all it took for Albert to sock him right back. The supervising staff, of course, only witnessed the second hit. They were never truly watching. Only when commotion began did they ever pay any attention, but it was always too late by then.

His assailant got off scot free.

“You will learn quickly that fighting is not tolerated here.” The headmaster grits, teeth bared behind an ugly mustache as he brings the ruler down once more.

Wesker swallows harshly, but he doesn’t react. Why give him the satisfaction? It hurts, of course. It hurt very much the same as the time prior when he’d been met with the wooden paddle after correcting his teacher in mathematics class.

The trick is simply not minding that it hurts.

“Impudence will only get you so far, young man. You should be thankful that we care enough to correct this behavior.”

“Yes, sir.” He answers. “Thank you, sir.”

Whack!

“Recite the tenets.” The headmaster waves the yard stick in his face.

“Through discipline, we find strength.”

Whack!

“Through obedience, we excel.”

Whack!

“Through unity, we gain power.”

The headmaster doesn’t stop until the stick breaks. Excessive pain for stoicism in the face of punishment.

“Damn you, boy!”

Typical.

Wesker’s fingers drip crimson all the way to the bathroom. It hurts terribly, stinging something fierce when he runs cool water over the broken skin. Antibacterial soap scalds his trembling hands like fire.

He meets his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something missing in their icy stare. Not even the pain touches them.

“I was at the top of my class.” He continues.

He is seventeen years old, hailed as the best and brightest of his peers. Doctor Albert Wesker…

He stands at the window next to his bed. His permanent privilege even in a new school.

He’s got his eyes locked on the moon. He wonders what it must have been like when Armstrong first stepped upon its dusty surface. A whole world away…

Away from the nearly silent sound two beds over of his classmate suffocating on his own blood and bile. His peer’s death will not spawn a monster.

The real one is working in the basements below.

“Mm, that’s not surprising.”

When did you come so close? Shouldn’t you be worried about the– oh. You moved the pan to the oven already. He knew that. He saw you do it. So how did you catch him off guard like that…?

You lean against the table and bring a hand to his cheek. The scent of lemon tickles his nose and he can’t help but bask in your touch. It’s so very warm compared to the chill of his memories.

His knuckles tingle…

“Are you okay?”

“Of course.” His answer comes too quickly and you shoot him a raised brow. He’s not used to talking about it. What was the point? No amount of rehashing it would change the past. Even then, was it something he’d want to change?

“Your eyes get brighter when you’re upset, you know.” You tilt his face toward you slightly, just enough to bring his gaze back to yours.

Perhaps he should start wearing his glasses around you again.

“And there’s this.” You say, tapping at his paper with your free hand. You’d noticed the ink stain. “I… If that question made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

Part of a successful relationship is the willingness to share with the other person. What kind of partner would he be if he denied you that which you’ve so willingly given to him? He shakes his head.

You didn’t make him uncomfortable. You never have.

“I was an orphan.” He blurts. But you already know this. The night he showed up at your house after your parents died, he’d bumbled through a weak apology that his ability to empathize was less than stellar. “I spent a lot of time alone. The others were… different.”

He was different. Stronger. Smarter.

Better.

Somehow his hands find their way into yours. Your thumbs smooth over the backs of his knuckles. It’s like you know how to soothe him without actually knowing. There were no marks there to indicate past damage. No scarring. Perhaps later in the evening he’ll confess the worst of it to you.

“Hmph, but I earned the title of Doctor before I’d even turned eighteen.” His lips quirk. It’s a humble brag compared to his other accomplishments. “Academia can be a very beneficial friend. However, I did find myself involved with the football team as a running back for a time.”

You chuckle warmly and squeeze his hands. “I unfortunately don’t speak sports, but it sounds like you were an amazing kid.”

He’s received such praise countless times in his life, but it feels different coming from you. It always has.

“I received many awards.”

Your sweet laughter enchants him somehow, as does the quick kiss you press to his lips. “Someone sounds humble.” You tease.

“Humility is my middle name.”

The beep of the oven interrupts another round of soft giggles from you. Frankly he’d rather allow dinner to burn and keep you where you were, but he can’t quite complain. Never in his life has a relationship gone so far that home cooked meals were able to become an occurrence. Domesticity has never been his speed, but he finds that he’s got quite the sweet tooth for it when it comes to you. He supposes there will be many firsts with you.

He’d like to experience all of them.

#resident evil #albert wesker #tw childhood trauma #tw corporal punishment #LORD the TAGS gon getcha #tw blood #tw death mention #albert wesker x reader #weskie wesker #/dev/favorites/#STARTS TO CRY AND SHAKE MISERABLY AND COLLAPSE ON THE GROUND IN A PUDDLE #HYPERVENTILATES. THE CHARACTER. I NEED TO HOLD HIM SO GENTLE

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amandabbbbb · 3 months ago

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summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

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tiredsadpeach · 2 years ago

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Hahaha heyyyy (I almost unalived myself today)

#tw suicide #tw suicide mention #so uh after work Thursday I almost overdrafted my bank acc because I used the wrong card to get gas and my moms reaction kind snapped #something in me and I spiraled and am still spiraling so I called out Friday and today so I didn’t breakdown at work #well this morning my mom woke me up and just kinda drilled into me because my sister helped me get this job and it could look bad on her and #everyone has mental health problems but they still go to work and I have to work because they can’t always pay for me #which btw I never ever said I wanted to quit I love this job but okay!#and then she basically confirmed all my self deprecating thoughts like being a bad pet owner and not doing enough around the house etc #so that’s so cool that she also thinks that about me that made me feel amazing!!!#she said I step all over my dad and siphon money out of my sister #which my dad and I are so very similar mentally so if I am I have no idea tbh #and then the money thing is because my sister bought concert tickets for me her my dad and our cousin but I promised to pay her back in full #like I calculated it and everything but I also reminded her that she didn’t have to get them #any time my sister does something with her money that overlaps with my interests my mom thinks it’s me convincing her lol #and then she was like ‘do you have anything you want to say to me’ and I should’ve know it was a trap! but I didn’t!#so I said ‘I already know all these things and I hate myself for them I just want to be normal but I’m not’ type stuff because I’m hypervent #hyperventilating and sobbing at this point and she said ‘stop trying to manipulate me’#so now I don’t ever wanna be alone with her again #I thought she had been finally listening and understanding and changing ever since I went to the mental hospital #but obviously not because I felt like I was in school again #she finally left to take a shower and I was gonna just down my Zoloft lmao I can’t please her so why be here yknow #didn’t realize my dad was awake and he told me he contacted our therapist (we share one) and told her I might need a sooner session and then #I went back in my room because I couldn’t get to my Zoloft and he wanted to talk and stuff and I almost took my backup ones from when I was #on a lower dose but he came in and basically did damage control for my mom #but he made me feel a bit better and somehow he just Knew I was contemplating sewer slide and had me promise not to #I love my dad and he actually understands and is gentle and patient with me and I thought that was rubbing off on my mom but no!!#love knowing I’m a big disappointment to her and that I’m manipulative too #I can’t die but hopefully I can get out of here soon I can’t be near her #she even said that even if my therapist suggests calling in I just shouldn’t!!!! so cool!!!!!#love how you don’t want me to take care of myself because it could mess with my sisters reputation!!!!!

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alexandriteobscuraarchive · 2 years ago

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((Bo's response when asked who he is as a person (keep in mind that he's talking about Kariom despite physically speaking to Roui) is 'You like fries. Inhale on one, exhale on two---'' and that doesn't get enough attention because that active breath counting and regulation? That's a coping mechanism/technique for anxiety and panic attacks. Because of course this man suffers from anxiety, god does he ever.))

#;;ooc: mun muttering #anxiety mention tw #anxiety attack mention tw #this man is prone to hyperventilating and panting when he's anxious; tyvm #you'll have to remind him how to breathe (or breathe properly) throughout

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abbyfmc · 4 months ago

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[Together in the afterlife]

Yandere Emperor! x Concubine! Reader:

TW: Mention of murder, kidnapping, harassment, rape, poisoning, and yandere behavior.

Postscript: Here I mention a practice in ancient China in which emperors prior to the Qing dynasty. When these died, I understand that their concubines were forced to commit suicide or were buried alive to follow the emperor in the afterlife.

Oh, and I don't own the text separators.

It's been years since the emperor kidnapped you in the palace. You were a young woman with desires for a peaceful life with your former fiancé and starting your family with him; However, you had the bad luck that the emperor saw you on one of his trips around the country, and consequently he became obsessed with you no matter how much you rejected him.

He gave you many opportunities while he insisted on you, but his patience ran out when he kidnapped you in his palace; He kept insisting on you; he forced you to marry him; He basically carried out genocide against your family, partner and friends and then he raped you in his room not once, but several times. He forced you to give birth to his children, the fifth prince and the seventh princess.

You continued to hate him greatly and you let him know it, which he didn't like at all. You avoided him; you tried to escape multiple times, resulting in confinement and punishment, or having your right to raise your children taken away (although they were later returned to you). You tried to dodge turn-down service, which caused him to lock himself in with you; He forced you to be with him and hug him, kiss him, pamper him, take walks, eat and even talk to him. But NOTHING made you forget what he did to you.

-"Tell me you love me".- He told you constantly as an order, and he wouldn't leave you alone until he heard you say it.

He subjected you to his desires and whims, only to receive secret hatred. He named your son as crown prince, while your daughter is about to get married far from you. You didn't want your son to be like him, and you didn't want your daughter to get married far from you. You were honestly sick of everything you had to suffer.

Luckily, the emperor returned from a trip during which he accidentally contracted smallpox. You took advantage of this to approach him with the intention of "taking care of him", when what you were actually doing was poisoning him. You saw how he weakened and you had to hide your face full of pleasure at seeing him suffer. You managed to find the decree that named your son emperor; you erased your son's name and replaced it with that of another prince.

You were NOT going to allow the pressure and ambition of an emperor to fall on your son and then completely corrupt him. I didn't want him to become greedy, narcissistic, ambitious or cruel like your husband was; However, you did not find any decree regarding a marriage alliance between your daughter and someone else.

It all continued until his last day, when you coldly confessed to him EVERYTHING you did.

-What?, Why did you do that?!- He asked you, alarmed.

-Like why, your majesty?- You asked, starting to feel some annoyance and helplessness. -Don't you remember everything you did to me?- The emperor began to hyperventilate and feel sick due to the poison. This time you gave him a lethal dose.

-I… the only thing I did was… love you with all my heart.- The emperor joins with difficulty, sitting in his bed while you only stayed with his back to him. You let tears fall down your cheeks by remembering everything he made to you.

-If by loving you mean harassing me, kidnapping me, forcing me to marry you, killing my loved ones, keeping me confined, raping me until I become pregnant and forcing me to submit to you, you are what I hate the most!; I HATE YOU!- You claimed him with rage, hatred, pain and anger while you cried. You turned around only to see him dying and spitting blood on the ground, fighting for his life as you felt his heart shatter from such cruel words coming from you.

-You are… ungrateful- He responded with noticeable disappointment even with some difficulty; However, that turned into a weak and strange laugh. -But do not worry. I also have a future surprise well… in store for you.- This last one disconcerted you a little. Before you had any chance to ask, the emperor passed away.

The funeral was carried out quickly. You pretended to cry out of sadness, because you didn't feel anything about your husband's death except coldness. Who would have imagined that the eunuch would read a secret decree that stated the following:

"If I, Emperor Yeng, die one day for whatever reason; I order that consort (Y/n) not only be posthumously promoted to empress, but that she be buried along with me in my same coffin dead or alive, to remain together forever. Funeral rites worthy of a couple of emperors must be followed. No one is authorized to separate us, and anyone who does MUST BE EXECUTED BY THE EMPEROR IN TURN IMMEDIATELY."

Horrified, you tried to run away to save yourself, but the servants caught you and no matter how hard you fight, you couldn't free yourself in any way. They had to knock you unconscious to prevent your escape.

While you were unconscious, they dressed you in the imperial ceremony costume of an empress and even put makeup on you and then took you to the coffin of your husband whom you had hated so much, put you in there and left you there and then buried you… still alive.

When you woke up you realized your terrible reality and you were terrified to the point of starting to scream and bang on the lid of the coffin, without any success. The emperor loved you so much that it didn't matter how much you hated him, because even in death he wasn't willing to let you go.

He loves you to the point of not letting you live with anyone else after his death, since he can't stand how you abandon him, which has caused him to take advantage of a bloodthirsty and cruel tradition and use it as a way to be together forever in the afterlife.

-The End.

#yandere #yandere oc #cw yandere #yandere love #yandere x you #yandere male #platonic yandere #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere boy #yandere x darling #obsessive yandere #yandere aesthetic #yandere emperor x reader #yandere fanfiction

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shytastemakerthing · 4 months ago

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Morning/Afternoon/Evening to you!

May I request some slight angst/comfort headcanons of Leona & Malleus with a Yuu who has a crush on them, & some other rando student outed them to their crush as a cruel prank so now their scared & embarrassed (but they don’t know yet that their feels are reciprocated)?

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request! First one with the angst to comfort so this should be really fun! Enjoy! Also, the reader's dorm is not given, choose as you please! Reader referred to as Herbivore in Leona's, species not mentioned in Malleus', but referred to as My Treasure

Tw: None

Request: Leona and Malleus with Yuu who has a crush

Having a crush on the lazy lion was certainly something of an acquired taste, at least, that is what your friends had told you when they found out

He was lazy, brash, really seemed to only care about one thing in his life, was not a fan of his family, the list seemed to go on

But it wasn't something you really cared about

It had been just like any other day

You were in the botanical gardens at the moment, working on collecting a few things that were going to be needed for Crewel's up coming assignment that day, your partner not exactly the most helpful

Rather rude, if we were going to be honest, only piggybacking on you for the good grade

What you didn't know was that they knew of this little crush that you happened to have on their dorm leader

And that said dorm leader was in their line of sights

You don't fully know what happened

One moment, you were collecting materials, the next you saw your partner with said lion, having a rather coy grin on their face as they seemed to be spilling out pretty much everything that they knew of this little crush

You could feel your heart racing, hands beginning to sweat, throat dried up, the panic setting in as you see Leona turning to face you

You were pretty sure you were on the verge of hyperventilating but you wasted no time in getting as far away from the botanical gardens as possible, dropping your supplies

Eyes blurring with tears, making them burn, the same burn that filled your lungs and ran through your legs as you kept running

You weren't seen in class that day, nor for the rest of that day

There was no way you were going to leave your dorm now, not when he knew

All because of some cruel joke, just because your partner got picked with you for this assignment

It was already getting rather late out, and you had finally managed to get yourself under control, grimacing in the mirror at how puffy and red your eyes and cheeks looked when you heard a knock on the door

Just hoping that whoever it was would just go away, you opted to stay where you were

Until you heard another knock followed by an all too familiar voice that made your throat clench, the tears threatening to come back

Knowing full well that Leona wouldn't leave until you answered, you managed to trudge your feet along until you made it to the door before finally opening it, keeping your gaze to the ground

Leona was a man who was not the best with emotional speeches, believing that actions meant far more than words

So you were left rather stunned when his head pushed against yours in almost a nuzzling fashion

"Tch, making me chase you down through this whole school. You're lucky that those feelings of yours are mutual, Herbivore."

Out of all of the people that were here in NRC, you just happened to fall in love with one of the five more powerful people in this world, head of Diasomnia, next in line as king of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia himself

You certainly knew that he was way out of your league

Granted, you had a few small conversations here and there as you were someone who never seemed to be afraid to approach him, something he will always be grateful for, it just didn't seem likely, nor would be be logical for him to choose someone as you for a partner, given the different status you both share

You wouldn't say that you were close with Malleus, but to others, it was clear that he enjoyed the presence you gave him and the nice little talks here and there when the both of you weren't busy

And there was a member of his dorm that didn't really seem to like just how close you were with their housewarden (not Sebek for once)

You were just arriving to Diasomnia with a new book in your hand that you had just found on Gargoyles, one that Malleus had mentioned was missing from his collection, so when you saw it in Sam's shop of all places, you knew you had to get it, no matter how high the price for it was

Though it was as if Sam had known what the purpose of the book would be and had given you a rather nice discount on it

There was a pep in your step and a smile on your face before you came to a halt just before going into the common room, seeing Malleus there walking with another fae member of the dorm, one that didn't exactly look all too pleased

There was not so much that you were able to hear in the conversation, but you certainly heard your name, the jab at your social status, how someone like you didn't even deserve the right to be in the presence of Malleus, let alone be walking into the dorm of the Great Thorn Fairy, that this little crush you had on him should be snuffed out immediately

You had dropped the book in your hands, gathering the attention of the two fae in the room and the first thing Malleus would see was the tears lining your cheeks as you tried to keep the sniffling at bay as you quickly turned on your heel, running from the dorm as fast as your legs could take you

Instantly called for Lilia to take care of this dorm member who had no right to say what they did as there were far more important matters to tend too

You were glad that classes were over for the day because there was no way that you were going to be able to make it to them in this sorry state

Your heart was clenched in your chest so hard that it was physically painful, no matter how many times you would wipe the tears, they just kept coming, along with the sobs that wracked your form

Your eyes were so blurry that you hadn't noticed the small flurry of green speckles that began to materialize in your room

Not before a rather large jacket was being placed over your form, making you jump instantly, as you were in your own room and you hadn't heard the door open, only to see Malleus there, the jacket of his dorm uniform over your shoudlers

You hadn't even realized you were shivering until he had placed it over you

Quickly looking away, you tried to clean yourself up a bit, to not seem more pathetic than what you probably already looked before you felt him sit next to you, one hand coming to rest on top of yours

It was then you realized that he was now carrying the book that you had gotten for him in his other hand

Then you would see the most gentle smile on his face, a glow to those beautiful green eyes, his fingers weaving between yours as he gave them a small squeeze

"No matter the differences that are between us, there is no one else that I would rather spend the rest of my days with, than you, My Treasure."

I freaking loved writing this one! I may delve more into this and try to make a full one-shot for these. What do you guys think, should I do it??

Have a wonderful day/night!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #romantic #twst imagines #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #twst leona kingscholar #twst leona #twst Leona kingscholar x reader #Requests open

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8lyme · 3 months ago

Text

"Why do I have to lose you?" pt.2

Part 1 <-

Logan Howlett x Reader (afab pronouns used a few times)

Warnings: very sad, a little graphic, mentions of blood/gore, grown man brought to tears, TW didn't get to describe how sexy logan is sorry

a/n: ate my cheerios locked in to gossip girl and then wrote the saddest shit i could. also idk how to do a taglist but to my one fan heres ur shoutout xoxo @corvusmorte 🫶🏼

You tugged at the clips of your harness, trying not to hyperventilate. Sporadically swiping the heels of your hands across your eyes between each tug made your hands slick with tears. After a little bit, you couldn't even grip the buckles anymore.

Damn Logan's stupid metal bones, locking you into the chair.

You reached behind you to try and release the spring of the chair. If you could just pop it up, you would slide over to the console and could turn off the autopilot.

You hoped Logan survived the fall from the jet as you painfully leaned over the arm of the seat.

"Please, please, pleaseplease, please!" you whispered to yourself. The chair dug into your ribcage too much, and you couldn't reach the clip. You straightened up and let out a few panicked cries before trying to reach behind the chair from the other side.

You strained your neck to peak around the chair, shoulder straps tight to your chest. There has to be an emergency unlock or eject button on the chair for this harness, you thought before panickedly feeling all over the sides of the chair with your hands.

After running your hands over the metal to no avail, you resulted to sticking you legs out to try and reach the console. You groaned as you stretched your leg as far toward the controls as possible. When that didn't work, you tried to swing your legs behind the base of the seat. The straps and the curve of the seat prevented your foot from going very far, causing you to straighten with a frustrated cry.

You yanked again at the straps, somehow managing to get your heels onto the seat lip. You gripped the chair arms and pushed up in an attempt to snap the strap between your thighs. It was stuck fast.

You angrily swung your arms in an attempt to hit something. The straps under your shoulder shifted, and you immediately began to wiggle yourself out. Painstakingly, your right shoulder was freed.

You ripped your other arm out of the harness and again extended your hand to the clip behind the chair. Through the reflection of the windshield, your hand looked just close enough to the clip, but you couldn't feel it.

Readjusting, you took a deep breath. The cabin was nearly dark, and the loud sputtering of the engine made it hard to think. You couldn't turn the chair around and there was nothing in reach to grab.

Far from giving up, you tucked your ankles back to the chair lip and reached behind you again, still just barely too far away.

"Oh, yes!" you said, realizing your boots were high enough for you to take off and reach behind you with.

Boot one was undone and in your hands in seconds, dangling by the clip. You smack once, twice, and then three times before hitting the clip. The chair unlocked and started to slide forward, but a loud clang followed by the screech of tearing metal tipped the jet and locked you back in place. Your boot flew out of your hand to the back of the cabin.

Wind instantly roared behind you, and you turned to the hanger door falling open. Whatever hit you did damage. Realistically, this jet didn't have much more flying time left in it. You had half a heart to let the autopilot land.

However, you caught a glimpse of the army beginning to bunch itself up. If you could unclip the chair and turn off the autopilot, you could swing the jet around, steer towards towards the grouping troops, and ideally eject yourself out of the hangar before the jet exploded into the ground and took out the trucks and soldiers.

"Okay, okay" you reassured yourself, untying your other boot. You reached behind the seat. Before you could even think to hesitate, a glimpse of the school caught your attention.

The grounds were in flames and a large chunk of one corner had been blown off. You instantly smacked your shoe down, unclipping the chair's safety lock.

In an instant you shot forward to the controls. You smacked the autopilot switch and gripped the handles, jet dipping before you regained control. You angled the handles down and pushed the jet into a nose-dive. The ground came rushing at you fast and you felt your ears pop with the pressure change. Your vision blurred while you flailed for the eject button.

Logan hit the ground with a sickening crack. He blinked awake after a minute of regenerating, the familiar buzz of his limbs waking up starting to fade.

He unsheathed his claws before glancing up at the sky to watch the jet you were in begin to fly away. Relief was quickly replaced with urgency as the boom of a tank went off near him.

He stood just in time to watch a corner of the school crumble to dust. Rage bubbled up inside him, and he sprinted toward the source of the explosion.

Before he managed to get halfway to the clumping group of tanks and soldiers, the roar of the jet shoots over him. He skids to a halt as the jet barrels into the center of army.

The ricochet from impact knocks Logan onto his back. He groans while lifting himself off the grass, short circuiting at the sight of thick black smoke coiling from the crash.

He scours the sky for a sign of you, panic and anguish settling into him when he sees nothing. He clambors up and sprints to the smoldering jet.

Logan tries to shut his mind off as he rips away at the metal of the jet. The bay door is jammed shut awkwardly, and he can only slash through it so much.

He's able to get a grip of an opening, brute strength bending the metal away. He climbs through, sliding down the angled floor and into the crushed cockpit.

There's no sign of you inside. Logan has shredded through the controls and interior walls in panic. He doesn't want to hear himself say it, but he knows anything that happens to you is his fault.

"Logan!" He hears, and through the hole he ripped open in the jet is Scott.

"We found her."

When Hank had found you, you were gasping for air. You'd shot out of the back of the jet at the last second, flying through the smoke. The straps that clung to you may as well have saved your life, the metal of the chair breaking most of your impact.

Not all, however, as your landing caused you to roll harshly against the ground. You narrowly dodged a rock smacking you clear in the head, but the bounce of the seat slammed your leg into something very hard, and you felt it break.

The feeling of hands roused you from your daze, and you managed to blink your eyes open.

"Can you hear me?" You hear. "Hey, open your eyes. Can you hear me?"

You could blurrily make out Hank's face against the contrast of the trees. The warmth of his hand reaches your face, and you try to offer him a pained smile.

"Hey," you manage, not noticing the drop in Hank's expression when blood pools out of your mouth.

"Keep listening to me," He says to you, pulling on the straps of your harness. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"

" 'Kay," you whisper, head lolling to the side when Hank lets go to rip the straps out from the back of the seat.

He slides his hand under your shoulders, pulling you up and tilting your head down against his chest.

"You still hear me, right?" He slides his other arm under your knees. "Still with me?"

"Uh-huh," you answer. Hank pulls up on you and begins to stand, but you cry out in pain. Your leg is on fire as it hangs loose in the air.

"What happened? Where are you hurt?" He panics, setting you flat onto the ground, arm still around your back.

"My leg," you gasp out, arms shaking violently as you bend to grip your calf. "Broken."

"Fuck," Hank says. "Hold on."

You hear a loud snap and feel pressure on both sides of your shin. He's taken two branches and braced your leg, using the broken straps of your harness to makeshift a splint.

"Best I can do," He says, moving to scoop you up again. "Ready?"

You nod, still trembling from the pain. He stands, and the pain in your leg makes you lightheaded. Hank is still talking to you, asking you questions that you can only answer with single syllables.

You're lucky you can't see his face. He isn't wearing his concern well. Blood outlined your teeth and cracked into your lips. The color had been drained from your face and your breaths were shallow. He wasn't sure if you were aware of your shredded uniform sleeves or the blood seeping from them staining his shirt.

Your breaths turned into wheezes, and Hank picked up his pace. The courtyard of the damaged school coming closer into view.

"Hey, keep talking to me. We're almost at the school, ok?" He shifts you gently, hoping the movement rouses you more.

"Huh," you wheeze, the whistling in your voice making Hank more nervous. Your ribs were definitely bruised if not broken. Your uncontrollable shakes alluded to a severe head injury - one he prayed wasn't worse than a bad concussion.

The two of you broke through the tree line. Surrounding sounds started to fade out of your hearing, but you tried hard to focus on Hank's voice.

He shouted out to someone, but you stopped making sense of voices.

"Hey, open your eyes," Hank says, careful not to jostle you too much as he scraps for your attention.

You tilt your head up slowly, trying desperately to keep your lidded eyes open.

"Can't," you mutter out. You feel sick and hot, each breath accompanied by an increase and then decrease of the dull pain in your chest. Everything hurt so much it almost began to cancel itself out. The effort you made trying to stay cognisant suckng the energy out of your body.

You don't hear him try to rouse you again, or the panic in his voice when he realizes you aren't responding.

You don't hear Ororo screaming across the grass at Scott to get Logan. You don't feel her hands against your neck as she checks your pulse.

You don't hear Jean shouting at Hank to take you to the lab. You don't hear Scott calling out to Logan. And you don't hear Logan calling out for you in a broken roar.

Logan stares at the floor outside of the lab. A dark cloud of fear and anguish settles over him. He has a way of thickening the air with negativity in these moments.

He can't look Hank in the eye knowing your blood is soaked through his shirt. Knowing he trapped you in that harness.

He counts himself lucky that he didn't find you crushed to the console of the jet, but that doesn't mean he isn't fighting off how very real that could have been.

Scott and Kurt had to hold him away from the doors when he raced after you. They later had to hold him up when he collapsed to his knees in despair.

He didn't look up when the hiss of the glass doors sounded or when Jean called Hank in to swap with her. They'd been at this for hours. Hank was terrified of you sustaining a significant brain injury, Jean more concerned about the hairline fractures in the ribs of your chest, caused by the harnesses Logan crushed to your body.

Jean sank in the seat next to him, letting out a shaky breath.

"Logan," She tried gently, knowing he wasn't capable of a response. "I know how you're feeling right now-"

"You don't," he cuts her off. The shake in his voice cuts through the air and he rubs at his eyes, hoping Jean can't tell that he's trying to rid the sensation of stinging behind his eyes.

"Logan, we know you crushed the buckles of her harness," she says gently. The breath he lets out is shaky and filled with a somber acknowledgement. He feels so guilty he might be sick.

"If you hadn't done that, she most likely would have died," Jean tells him, knowing this won't change anything besides offering him an ounce of peace of mind. "If she'd unclasped herself at any point, she would've flown out of the jet when the hangar was hit open. The clasps are designed to unhook on impact after ejection, and since her chute didn't activate she would've hit the ground much harder. I know you feel at fault here, but she's only bruised."

"If'd I'd just let her land the damn thing," he choked out, looking up to blink back the wetness in his eyes.

The door slid open again, Hank moving through slowly.

"Her eyes are open," he says, relief not present in his tone. "She might respond to you."

Logan meets Hank's eyes. He looks tired and defeated.

He looks away as he slowly pushes up from his chair, slowly and shakily passing Hank through the doors. Logan feels Hank's eyes burning into the back of his head. He gains no solace from knowing whatever Hank is thinking about him, Logan is thinking much worse.

He's afraid to step closer when he sees you. Your leg has been casted properly, resting over two white pillows. Your tattered uniform has been replaced with a grey t-shirt and shorts, a thin blanket laying over your one fully-exposed leg. He can see wires from EKG electrodes poking out from the bottom hem and collar of your shirt. An IV of saline is attached to the vein of your arm. Both have gause peaking out from your shirt sleeves, and Logan didn't have to see the blood soaking through them - he could smell it. A nasal cannula rested above your upper lip, blood still crusted between the cracks of your lips. You had two unbandaged scrapes on your face, one on your jaw and the other on your forehead.

You blinked and just barely turned your head to him. Immediately, he rushed over, gingerly touching your fingertips.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to you, terrified to place his hands anywhere on your body. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

He covered his eyes with his hand, breathing in a sniffle as he turned his head away from you. His thumb stroked over one of your fingers.

He felt you move and quickly faced you, eyes rimmed with redness. He watched you blink slowly, opening your mouth to try and speak.

You said his name in a raspy whisper. Logan clenched his jaw and hung his head, slipping his palm under yours. He felt the gentle squeeze of your hand and sunk to his knees in pain, head resting against the side of the bed. Guilt was corroding away at his insides. He felt the crushing weight of his actions in his neck and shoulders. The inside of his body felt weak and his stomach churned.

You turned your hand and stretched your fingers back, gently stroking at his forehead. He squeezed your hand and stood back up, bringing his other hand to the side of your face.

"I don't know how to protect you," he whispered, voice breaking.

"That's okay," you say back, eyes beginning to close again. You pull his hand to your stomach and thread your fingers together, his pinkie resting between your middle and ring finger.

Logan gently threads his fingertips through your hair, wanting so desperately to hold you in his arms.

"Don't go," you mutter, eyes closed. Your breath evens as you fall back asleep. Logan's breath remains shaky, the stinging returning to his eyes.

"I won't," he says softly, voice raw. He slides the chair from the end of your bed over to himself, sitting down. He rests his head between his arms, looking up at the rise and fall of your chest.

He won't leave, not anytime soon. If you wake up and want him gone, then he'll disappear. For now, he'll allow himself to relish in the fact that you're still alive.

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