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criminalamnesia · 11 months ago

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the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 1 year ago

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Diasomnia with “who hurt you” trope

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia doesn’t feel like himself when he sees you, your eyes closed, your body impossibly still - he can feel his heart hammering in his chest as he approached you, fingers desperately searching your skin for a sign of life. It seemed his touch brought you back, even briefly, eyes finding his alongside a weak smile. He whispered his question with an intensity you’d never heard from him before, flinching as he almost yelled it in his next breath. He had to know who did this to assure they never did it again. When he sees fear reflected in your eyes he calmed himself, a hand delicately caressing your cheek as he asked again in a gentler tone and leaned down so you wouldn’t have to strain yourself or your voice. He hummed thoughtfully at the description and seared it into his head, hiding the eerie look on his face as he pressed a kiss to your head and promised you’d be okay soon.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus had always been observant of the people he cared about, especially when there was a comfortable routine to be found. He had found such a routine with you, where your classes were right next to each other and you had the same lunch; you would often walk to the cafeteria together, getting your food and finding a much quieter spot to eat or enjoy each other’s company. He can’t say he hadn’t been curious about how long this might last until you forgot, when this wouldn’t just be a daily pleasantry to you but like an appointment you were expected to keep to appease the dragon. He tastes bile in the back of his throat the one day you don’t appear, a lingering disappointment though he tried not to let it show as his emotions tended to cause disasters. It’s only when he sees you again, your eyes looking lifeless and your body language closed off, that he realized something must have happened. He wants to pry, to ask a million questions to get to the bottom of this so things could return to normal, but his experiences had taught him many things, so he chose to wait beside you until you were ready to confide in him. He was confident he’d find out who hurt you regardless, and that he could handle it swiftly.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek doesn’t immediately notice any odd behavior, going about the conversation regarding your schoolwork as normal. It’s when tear drops began to stain the paper in front of you that he’s rendered speechless, knowing you weren’t weak enough to cry over something like potion ingredients. He’s incredibly clumsy in his attempts to understand what upset you, who upset you — it wasn’t him, right? As brash as he could be he had learned the proper way to act without pushing you away, so he’s confident it wasn’t that. He’s meant to be a fighter and if someone had physically hurt you, he’d know exactly how to restore your honor. However, with only figurative bruises on your heart he’s struggling, twice as much as he would with a regular friend due to the depth of his feelings for you. You can at least find some amusement in Sebek’s ever changing facial expressions as he used all his brain power to remedy the situation.

Silver:

Silvers steps were steady as he approached, stealthily following the trail of blood and hoping it didn’t lead to an unfortunate prize. He broke out into a sprint when he sees your form curled up on the ground, a much larger puddle of blood gathered nearby to hint he had found the main source behind the trail. He’s fighting not to panic as he kneeled over your body, hands holding your face as he begged for you to wake up, to just look at him. When you do it brings him enough relief that he could cry, forehead pressed to yours as he asked who did this to you. He doesn’t know what his next course of action is, frown plastered to his face as your eyes slid shut again; he could see your chest moving now, in the familiar way it did when you slept, leaving him a little more at ease. Silver felt like he might not sleep for another hundred years, not until the person who hurt you was thoroughly punished.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge #Malleus Draconia #TWST Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Silver x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader

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hughiecampbelle · 7 months ago

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The Boys Preference: Dating After A Toxic Relationship

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had 😊 Remember, requests are open! Be sure to read my rules and please respect that I'm only interested in writing for these characters. Thank you! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher is very vocal. He knows you jump and scare easily, so he always makes a point to say where or if he's going to touch you, if he's upset and why (so that you don't worry you're the reason), when he'll be back, etc. This takes a lot of trial and error between the two of you. Butcher is an angry, violent person. You knew this going into the relationship. There's always a worry it could turn on you, and that's what he fears most: that you'd ever be afraid of him. He reassures you constantly he would never, ever hurt you. He knows all about what your ex did. You wanted to be up front and honest, knowing some of your behaviors might seem strange or out of place. The last thing he ever wants to do is emulate your ex and though it takes a lot of rewiring and assessment of his actions, he's trying to be better for you so that he doesn't lose you.

Hughie hates what your ex has done. Bit by bit, you give him the overview of your relationship, what they were like, and how they treated you. Sometimes you jump or flinch and he's reminded all over again that, despite what he does, there will always be this underlying fear and distrust. It took a long time to date him let alone tell him everything. He's patient and gentle and makes sure you're okay with every step you take further into the relationship. He takes every relationship show regardless of past history. When you see your ex again you have to pull Hughie away, not wanting him to start anything. He can't help it. He looks at them and he sees red. He's filled with disgust and hatred. Hughies always been on the timid side, but the thought of someone hurting you like that boils his blood.

Annie never wants you to feel like you have to hide that kind of thing from her. She knows all about power hungry people who take advantage of others. Still, she can't believe it. You're kind and funny and sweet and you always have everyone's best interest at heart. You know what it's like to get hurt, you wouldn't dare hurt someone else. She knows you don't want any trouble with them, you just want to move on, but she can't help but light up when she sees them. Secretly she goes to them and makes it known if they so much as look at you, even think about you, they're done. She's always asking if what you're doing is okay and wants to be as open as possible about boundaries. You're grateful she likes innocent touching, mostly hand holding, and when you're having a hard time you know she'll grab your hand and squeeze it, reminding you she's always here for you.

M.M knows all about your ex. He was the one to help you get out of that relationship in the first place. Since then you've become really close, so close he's now your boyfriend. After your ex shows up at your work one day, Marvin decides to take things into his own hands. The Boys make a special appearance at their apartment where they make it known they are never to go near you ever again. You have a lot of fears about trusting someone again, especially in a relationship, but M.M. is patient. He never wants you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to or aren't ready for. He's more than okay with taking things slow. He actually prefers it that way. He's extremely protective over you and, unfortunately, are his biggest weakness. If Homelander ever found out about you, M.M. would be done for.

Frenchie met your ex a few times before you broke things off. The way they spoke to you, wanted to control you, all the sings were there. He feels awful that he didn't see it sooner, but you could never blame him. You're just glad you got away from them. Frenchie is attentive and devoted and males sure you're comfortable with every step in your relationship. He offers, jokingly though not jokingly, to have your ex killed when they start sending calls and texts and emails. You assure him it's okay, you'll handle it. He knows you're more than capable, but he's always got a back up plan ready just in case they want to try anything more. He's extremely patient when you decide to tell him. He knows there's more to the story than what you're sharing, but he doesn't push it. He's grateful you shared anything at all. It's a big step and means a lot that you'd trust him.

Kimiko is learning to trust just like you are. You've both been through a lot, but you find a great solace in one another. Kimiko isn't sure who this random person is that shows up looking for you, only that the rest of The Boys are suddenly cagey, angry, and very protective. They're grateful you're not there. When she asks about them, you finally tell her. You dated a while ago and it wasn't a safe relationship. You thought you could get away from them, but they seek you out. They like to know they're in control. She feels awful. You're genuine and smart and sweet. Those terrible things that happened to you only made you softer and, unfortunately, more prone to anxiety and distrust. She leaves it up to you to take the next steps in your relationship. You appreciate more than you could ever put into words. You love her, but you need to take things slow.

Bonus! Homelander killed them a long time ago. The moment you showed up in his life, he knew there was someone who'd hurt you. It takes a long time to tell anyone, let alone him. One day the phone calls and texts and emails just stop. They stop showing up at Vought looking for you. You think you've finally scared them off or perhaps they got bored, but it was actually your new boyfriend. Normally he'd like to boast all about how he tortured them, h9w easy it was to kill them, how stupid they looked when he pulled out all their teeth, but he knows you wouldn't like that, so he keeps it to himself. He knows no one will miss them. You certainly don't. You're sleeping better now and getting more comfortable in your relationship without the constant threat of them showing up or following you. Homelander rests easy knowing they can never hurt you again. He lacks a lot of self-awareness in this department.

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kedreeva · 18 days ago

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i have an odd animal husbandry question you seem like you might know the answer to, your comment about stan reminded me - ive been thinking about getting into backyard chickens for a couple years and the thing that makes me hesitate most is hard culling. im confident in my ability to put down an animal thats sick, or infirm, or for food, but for like, temperament? or for poor egg layers? just sticks on me for some reason. i think it would feel like telling them theyre not a good enough chicken for me. how to you process this part of animal husbandry?

This will be a little long, so bear with me.

If you want to keep use animals (animals bred for a purpose, to be used for a purpose instead of kept as a companion), you gotta get good with the idea that they are here for you under the agreement that you will only keep them as long as you need to. When you take them on, you are agreeing that you will release them to whatever their next life holds for them as soon as you do not need (or they've completed) their service. Maybe for some people that's just release to the biological cycle of life, for others maybe there's an eternal rest, for others maybe it's reincarnation. For soft culling that's just moving to the next household. Whatever it is, you are allowing them to pass to it in as humane a way as you can, and ultimately it is the single greatest kindness and gratitude you can show to them, to give them proper care while they are here and allow them to end with little to no pain- something animals outside of our care rarely get. You are thanking them for their service, and letting them go. Worth does not even begin to factor into it.

It is not easy to take a life. It is NEVER easy, regardless of reason, regardless of excuse, regardless of anything. It is ALWAYS heavy, and it will always hurt you. And it should. I am grateful for the weight of taking a life, because it reminds me that it is serious, and reminds me to take the production of life seriously, because at some point any life I cause to come into existence via breeding animals will have to end.

On top of that, some things ARE heath related that do not seem health related. Aggression in domestic animals IS A HEALTH ISSUE. A cock is aggressive because he is stressed about intruders, containment, mating threats, resource guarding, etc. Even with the best of care this can be true, and unfortunately for you both, this means the animal is not suited for domestic keeping. The same goes for animals (in any stripe of use, but particularly private care) that display repetitive stress behaviors from normal, proper captive care (for example, mice that are food chewing are stressed and should be culled from lines where possible because they are not having a good time). You are doing them a disservice to keep them in a stressful situation you cannot change because of their biology. It has nothing to do with not being good enough for you, and everything to do with producing/keeping animals that do not experience that stress in captive care and releasing the rest from duty because they will not be okay in any captive care.

For some issues (poor egg laying, for example) you CAN pet-home culls instead of hard culling. It's harder to do, you will spend time finding people who just want pets that don't intend to breed or don't care, but it can be done. However!! Is the bird just slow at producing eggs because her genetics say that's how fast eggs get produced, or is she producing slowly because there's a health problem that isn't immediately evident? Is her ovary damaged, is her reproductive tract infected, does she have a disorder that prevents her from processing food correctly so she can't get what she needs to produce eggs as fast as normal? Are you setting the bird up for failure (and someone else for heartbreak/money troubles) sending them to a pet home? Is it something which could lead to pain/suffering down the road if she's allowed to continue? Hard to say without spending a lot of money. Are you willing to risk your reputation, if someone takes a surprise illness/genetic issue down the road badly ("Oh THAT breeder sold me a sick/unhealthy bird/bird with bad genetics"), and compromise your ability to find homes for healthy birds down the road?

You are okay with culling a bird for food- there's nothing that says you cannot eat the bad temperaments, the poor egg layers, the one with genetic issues, and so on. And if you can tell early enough that you, personally, can't make use of the meat, there are plenty of folks with other animals that would LOVE feed for those animals. Take yourself down to a local reptile expo, grab the business cards for a few people who have big snake babies (retics, burmese, anaconda, redtail boa, even BP) that say they'd be interested in taking culls, OR look up local bird of prey rescues in your area (or reptile rescues or big cat rescues if there are any) and ask if they'd be interested in culls. There is ALWAYS someone that can use what you can't/won't. You may have to jump through some hoops to donate to some kinds of rescues (health testing for example), but it's an option you can look into if you want to combat the feelings you're talking about.

As a last note- and I am saying this gently and holding your face in both hands: do not anthropomorphize animals in reality.

In YOUR eyes, you are culling them an illness or an injury or for food or for temperament or for poor quality or or or---- it does not matter to the animal why you are culling them. A death is a death, to them. They are here, and then a thing happens, and they are no longer. They do not understand life or death or afterlife or reincarnation or that they are here for a purpose or not a purpose or literally anything you as a human might impose upon them in your head. They live while they are alive, and then they are not. They do not "want to live" in the "avoid death" sense because they do not necessarily understand "death" as a future concept. Instincts that have worked well to preserve life have been encoded in their DNA to one degree or another, they can and do respond to avoid pain, but with little exception (like... maybe elephants and dolphins and a crows and a few others), it's unlikely that they understand the connection between doing those things and being alive/avoiding death.

So while TO YOU it may feel like telling the bird they are not good enough, and TO ME it feels like allowing the bird to move on in peace... the bird doesn't know either way, and honestly the reason hardly matters. It is alive in the present, and one way or another it will not be alive someday, and you are responsible for making sure that the one way under your control is so peaceful or quick that the bird hardly knows it is no longer alive. The bird doesn't care about (and cannot understand) the why of their death, any more than they understand their pain/stress and how it relates medical assistance; it's why animals often freak out, refuse meds, etc. They don't hate the vet or the car or the carrier or anything- they just simply don't understand human stuff and react according to instincts/what they do understand. If you treat an animal like the animal it IS rather than the person you imagine it to be, you will find yourself with a lot better relationship with them during life, and be able to frame their passing a bit better later on.

#it's not an odd question actually #it's not even the first time I've been asked questions like this #It's a topic a LOT of people will not face head on #or talk about in louder than a whisper #but death is arguably the most important part of animal husbandry to talk frankly and openly about #asks #animal death for ts #culling #hard culling #chickens

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freyito · 10 months ago

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hiii first of all i just love your drabbles 🫶🫶🫶 Can i request mk1 characters reactions when their partner is hurt? yk when they found out that their s/o is in the hospital or sth. You can write for whoever you want but I would love if you include Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi and Syzoth in this ❤️❤️

✭ pairing(s): liu kang, bi-han [sub zero], kuai liang [scorpion], johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, kung lao, raiden, zeffeero [rain], tomas vrbada [smoke], baraka, syztoh [reptile], havik, general shao, shang tsung, reiko (seperate) x gn reader

✧ a/n: thank u smmmmmm anon!!! i hope this doesnt sound egotistical or anything, but i really cant get enough of people telling me they love my writing, it's really affirming and i will always appreciate it ! it's always like... woah.... really......

this is the perfect request, but i am gonna put my own little spin on this and make it pretty angsty, whoops :P super sorry this one took so long too.... ough i put my heart and soul into it. i hope i am not only tumblr user freyito to you, but an angst writer too... well most of these are angst. some are a little more fluffy and less dire... also just could not for the life of me figure out what to write for geras' so no geras in this one :(

🗒 cw: gn reader, certain character's deaths, gore/blood, depiction of death, angst, in some you are close to death, stitching without painkillers in havik's, kidnapping in shang tsung's/mention of kidnapping in rain's, not proofread

✎ wc: 6.3k

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ + ᴀ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⎯Liu Kang

Not much evokes emotion in him. He is a god, he must been even with his feelings, and any shift in the balance could set so many things wrong. On the battlefield, there is no room for failure. With you, he's always been relatively neutral, he makes sure you know he loves you, and he's gentle with you. Yet, he keeps a distance. Liu Kang harbors a fear deep down, that his actions, his status, will bring you to your end. He's a sought out target, after all.

So, when those fears come true, Liu Kang can't help but feel his rage consume him. To watch Shang Tsung's claws dig deep into you, festering, plaguing your own strength. Ripping into you, decorating his hands in your warm blood. Shang Tsung had done this because of Liu Kang, he was so sure. Flames engulfed him, near incinerating the foot soldier he had been fighting. He approaches Shang Tsung, as you lay at his feet, struggling to breathe. Unforgivable. To do this to his starlight, Liu Kang will not make this mans death slow and savory, no. Within an instant, he pushes Shang Tsung's head through his own body, splitting the man in half, as well. Death is too merciful, but alas, that is not important, now.

Once the initial wave of anger washes off, adrenaline and logic set in. Liu Kang picks you up, he treats you as if you're porcelain. Just barely, as you struggle to stay conscious, you can hear him assuring you it's okay. That nothing else will happen. It is unclear whether he is saying this to you, or himself. Regardless, he leaves the battlefield quickly. He knows his comrades can handle the rest. But knowing that he is so close to losing you, as you bleed out within his arms, it is haunting. Every second counts, and he knows it. He entrusts your care to the medics at the Wu Shi academy, as much as he trusts them, he cannot bring himself to leave your side. For hours, he is still covered in your blood. His eyes do not leave your face, resting and peaceful, even with death knocking on your door.

Liu Kang is there every step of the way. When you are in recovery, he makes sure to attend every session. He brings you books, something to keep you occupied on the days where you are stuck in bed. Regrettably, he can't enjoy a lot of alone time with you, because duty calls. He'd love nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you, but he still has stuff to attend to. However, when you are cleared to leave the academy, he keeps you close. Liu Kang is afraid it will happen, the image of you bloodied and ripped up still fresh in his mind. He's only a little protective, the thought of you going back into Kombat a little rattling. But he does not stop you. Because it makes him feel better knowing that you are back on your feet.

⎯ Bi-Han

As the grandmaster's partner, Bi-Han knows that you could be caught in danger. But he does not lament this. He does not celebrate it, either. He admires that you can fight, and he loves fighting by your side. He always looks out for you, of course he does. But he cannot be by your side in a large fight, he knows you can hold your own.

It is a sharp cry that draws his attention towards you. That is all he needs. Bi-Han prides himself on being an even and logical man, but the minute he sees A Tengu assassin's knife dug deep into your ribs, he snaps. Within an instant the battlefield grows colder, and the second you blink, the assassin already has his spine ripped out and shattered. A little bit of a flashy display for a man like him, but he wastes no time in bathing in the glory of his kill. He was lucky enough that the fight was nearing an end, the last of the Tengu clan that was sent out were either retreating or being taken care of.

Off you go to the medics of the Lin Kuei, and he insists you are priority. The one thing Bi-Han was unfair with was you, near fighting with the medics to tend to your wounds. Your blood paints his hands and upper torso, and he refuses to wash it off. Not until he knows that you have priority. When the medics relent, he finally disappears to wash off. He cannot stay by your side as much as he'd like, but he's not only restricted by his title, but his emotions. He takes a couple minutes outside, to calm down his own nerves. Bi-Han does not cry, but a few shaky breaths escape him as he tries to calm himself down. His mind races with every possible outcome, ultimately landing on the worst.

But, Bi-Han's thoughts do not come to fruition. The medics have worked their magic, and you are on the path to recovery. As much as he'd love to be with you, he cannot. But, he does send you a bunch of gifts. Letters, mainly. Small incentives for you to recover quickly, but he sends in flowers frequently, as well. The days he does visit you, he is a softer man. He's especially gentle with you around your ribs. He keeps a very close eye on you during missions once you are out of recovery. He doesn't mean to seem overbearing, but his position alone paints a big ol' target on your head. This attack was the first that brought that to his attention.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Fighting alongside a pyromancer is tricky, to say the least. There's a lot of variables to account for, and aside from that, Kuai Liang can't really keep an eye on you in certain instances. This was one of them, a rather messy battle, one where he couldn't keep track of you. Not that it mattered, he knew you were strong enough to hold your own.

However, it is a stray spark that leads you to stumble back. You flinch, which drives you back into the sword of the enemy. When Kuai sees this… the world goes silent. Water stills, flame fizzle out, swords clash and the dull clang of steel against steel quiets. Only for the water to suddenly form a raging tide, the flames to burn brighter, and the steel fades against the sound of a brilliant flame. In your fading vision, you see your partner's kusarigama impale your attacker's jaw, and pull it clean off. It is a sight he will regret later.

When the battle is over and the medics have taken you away, all Kuai Liang finds himself doing is worry. Pacing constantly, he messes up the mission report and has to have Tomas or someone else from the Shirai Ryu. He can recount things normally without a hitch, but knowing that it was him and his own ‘reckless’ use of his pyromancy with you in such close proximity makes him trip over his words, and even his thoughts. With what little free time he has, he’s pacing outside your cot, frequently checking in on the medics and the progress, until they ultimately have to push him away. Which calms him down, somewhat.

When the medics assure him that everything is fine, and that you are on the path to recovery, he’s much more relieved. He’s a lot less tense, and he’s a lot more coherent. He’s able to compose himself. Granted, he tends to sneak off (when appropriate) to check on you. He really just loves talking with you afterwards, he doesn’t want to bring up any unpleasant memories or thoughts (particularly what you saw before you blacked out), but there will always be a point where you have to talk about it. He’ll also ramp up his affection. The entire ordeal (while he knew what would come with forming the Shirai Ryu) made him realize that maybe he takes you for granted. Kuai Liang has been surrounded by death, sure, but for some reason, when it comes to those he loves… it is hard to understand that life is fleeting.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny is used to deaths and his partner being hurt… on screen. He’s so used to the dramatized version, where his stage partner dies in his arms, and he wails real loud. He’s blissfully unaware that it could, in fact, happen to you in real life. He likes to think of himself as a great source of protection, believes no harm will come your way, not when you’ve got just a big, strong, handsome hunk around. And one of Earthrealm’s Defenders. As much as he’s grown, he still needs to learn a few lessons from the world.

And he’s in for a reality check. There are some unsavory characters out there, ones that aren’t too happy about his status as a whole. All he gets is a call from the hospital and a nice little greeting from officers. The only things he can make out in his newfound panic is ‘attempted murder’, and he’s REELING. He wasn’t there, he reminds himself. He doesn’t know what went down. Officers are still trying to figure it out. In his hazy and reckless state, he goes to his best friend.

Kenshi helps ease his nerves, and gives him a couple of LOGICAL ideas. Considering Shang Tsung had wormed his way into Kenshi’s life to steal Sento (and ultimately got his ass beat), he brings it up. Which leads to a whole meeting with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Kung Lao. To discuss the possible threats, and the future. Johnny cannot sit still that meeting, he’s practically bouncing off the walls, asking what this means for you. Every single question is about you, and you alone. Liu Kang dismisses him, and he practically speeds off to the hospital.

Johnny relaxes when he’s able to finally enter your room,– after a lot of arguing with the doctors about visiting hours– but his mind still spins. How could he let this slide? He should’ve been there, right? Regardless of how much blame he puts on himself, (which it was never his fault to begin with) he’s sat by your bed, sulking. From the police report, it’s clear that it was AT LEAST linked to Shang Tsung, but that’s no longer his problem. He gets you anything from the cafeteria if you ask, and he brings you flowers every. damn. day. He’s got so many gifts coming your way, that when you get discharged, you’re practically smothered by all the gifts he got you as an ‘apology’. When you ask him what he means by an apology, he doesn’t say a single word. Johnny’s very on top of your medication, he’s soooo very delicate with you, he almost condemns you to bedrest. But with enough pushback, you’re able to be up and about; but that doesn’t mean he won’t be worrying over you for quite a while. Even if Liu Kang assures him that it won’t happen again.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is aware of the danger that surrounds him and his existence in general. He’s protective of you, of course. And he knows full well that you could be swept up into the mix of the Yakuza, and his work with Liu Kang and the OIA. But, you yourself had fought hard for the relationship and made it clear that you could care less about the potential dangers; even if he felt a little frazzled at all the dangers out there. All the hands that could be grabbing at you, the guns, the knives, the weapons that would be pointed at you the minute you were spotted next to him. You didn’t care.

Yet, when he gets the call that you were involved in some crime, landing you in the hospital, his mind omits all the other details. Aside from the hospital you’re at. He even skips over the fact that it was Jax calling him. Part of him wants to cry. And he probably would, if he could. But he tries to keep himself composed. Whatever he’s been occupied with is now a distant memory, other agents can take over. As calm as he looks on the outside, there’s a war raging within him. He knew this would happen. Ever since he felt feelings for you, he knew.

When he finds you at the hospital, Sento left behind, he’s scared. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he can’t see you, or if he should lament over it. While the doctors had described your injuries as non-fatal, and that you’d recover in no time, Kenshi’s mind has already spun a horrifying image, but once the doctors have left, he can hear your soft breathing underneath all the bustle of the machines. And it soothes him. Only then does he find some peace of mind, you are safe, and the danger has passed. Somewhat. When his worry starts to dissipate, he remembers that Jax had actually called him first, not the hospital. When he calls Jax back, the first thing he says is that he’s taking time off, and Jax doesn’t protest. They discuss what happened and that it is now a government matter, and something that expands past OIA boundaries. The short version of the conversation is that someone from a different timeline had managed to worm their way into this one, and harm you. Someone with striking similarity to himself.

Now that Kenshi has calmed down and knows you’re safe, he understands why the nurses and the law enforcement seemed tense around him. It unnerves him, to say the least. That another version of himself would hurt you. His heart, his guiding light. It’s also an entirely new threat that he hadn’t accounted for. Once discharged from the hospital, you have all of his attention. He’s oh so gentle with you, like any little touch and you’ll crack. He does every chore around the house for weeks, until you’ve fully healed. He cooks a lot (with the help of Sento), even bathes you (despite your protests). It’s his way of an apology for what happened, and not just that, but an apology for being with him. He holds immense regret over this, knowing that– even if it was another him from another timeline– he did this.

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao is… protective, alright. And that often gets swept up within his cockiness. Of course, you do feel pretty safe with him. Maybe not around the hat, but you do feel safe around him. Aside from his interesting choice of weapon, he’s a great martial artist. And also just someone who’s really nice to cuddle with. He’s a Shaolin Master, of course he’s going to be a horrifying opponent.

And, there would be hell to pay if anyone hurt his love. He isn’t just all bark. Even the thought of you being hurt has him seething, he tends to overthink. There’s a lot of things that have made him realize that he may be a high value target– even if he can’t help but think he’s done nothing to get to that point. But, under Liu Kang, and just the title ‘Defender of Earthrealm’, there’s some sort of pride that lingers. Something that makes him want to challenge anyone and everyone he can, tell them to ‘bring it on’.

But not at the expense of you. The one thing bigger than his ego? His heart. So, when you stride into Wu Shi Academy,– though, limp is the better term– all cut up and bruised, barely able to speak or see, there’s a rage that burns within Lao. One that even Raiden hasn’t seen. He can’t help but run his mouth about how he’ll teach whoever the hell got to you a lesson. But he’s also despondent, he barely touches his food, he barely shows up to Madame Bo’s… and that makes her worried, until she learns about what happened to you from Raiden. Now not only does the culprit have a bastard with a really sharp hat after them, but the most badass little old lady after them, too. Madame Bo loves you like one of her own, really. She dotes on you, where she’ll normally scold the boys. You are her golden child.

Ultimately, their shared hunt leads to a dead end. Your mind is too hazy to remember anything aside from a silhouette, before getting beaten senseless. As much as Lao seems hellbent on tracking the culprit down, he ultimately gives up when you ask him. But, as you recover, he seems to be in much better spirits. He likes to curl up next to you at night (despite the monks telling him not to), just to reassure him that you’re safe. And Madame Bo arguably puts on more of a show than Lao does. She treats you with free food every day of your recovery, and when you’ve got clearance to be walking around without supervision again, she’s made a FEAST for you. While it feels all sunshine and rainbows once you’ve recovered, Kung Lao works tirelessly to get better. He blames himself, mainly for the fact that no matter what he did, he couldn’t find the one who did this to you. Even if you tell him outright that it is okay. It’s another mark on his list of failures, to him.

⎯ Raiden

When he got the amulet, Raiden didn’t exactly have it down. It took a great deal of focus and strength to hone it, more than he’s known. Sure, there have been some points where it feels like he’s got it down, like he can actually control the lightning. But before the tournament, he had a hard time controlling it, and spent many days doing his best to hone this new power. It was exhausting, and took a toll on him, both physically and mentally. He might have been trained nearly his whole life in martial arts, but that doesn’t necessarily correlate to any sort of magic.

However, it is his connections that ground him. Kung Lao, yes. But you, mainly. Normally, his training sessions with the amulet consist of him trying not to fry Lao, while you sit by and encourage him. A positive environment encourages progress, right? That’s what Raiden thinks, anyway. And all things considered, he’s doing well today. The lightning had been easily tamed, Lao hadn’t been zapped, and all was well.

While training with a staff, however, one wrong move sends a strike horrifyingly close to you. You barely register what happened, the loud bang by your right is followed by a popping feeling, like you’ve been in high altitude, a sharp pain through your eardrum, and then a dull ringing in your right ear. Raiden comes running up to you near immediately, checking over you. Your mind spins at how fast things happened, so you can’t necessarily explain clearly to him what you felt. Before you can collect yourself, Raiden is suddenly set on high-alert, and hauling you away to the medics at Wu Shi. Even Lao is a little confused as he follows after the two of you.

At the medics, you’re able to piece everything together. Ruptured eardrum, and Raiden can’t help but blame himself for it. When you’re getting checked over, Raiden is pacing outside, and Lao is trying desperately to calm him down. It had been a fear of his since the very start of his training. But as time went on and you went unharmed… it started to slip into the back of his mind. He feels horrible for letting go of that worry, for letting it happen. And when the medics let you go and tell you that it’ll heal in a couple weeks, you do your best to comfort him next to Lao. When it’s just you two, however, Raiden is a lot more calm. The adrenaline of the moment got to him earlier. Still, all he feels he can do is apologize, as much as you assure him it’s fine. Over the next couple of weeks, he’s very, very mindful of himself. He’s practically banned you from his training sessions, he makes sure to approach you from your left side or make his presence known if he’s coming up from behind you.

⎯ Zeffeero

There’s not much Rain has to worry about in his day-to-day life, even with his status as High Mage. He knows his title holds weight, but he believes that if he spends all his time worrying, something will happen sooner or later, and he’ll be more of a mess if it comes true. He’s more worried about his actual duties, coming home to you (almost) every night, and what books he will read on his days off.

That being said, he isn’t able to spend all his time with you. Which is a bummer, really. His job isn’t necessarily ‘remote’. He doesn’t worry over you too much, he knows you’re strong enough to cover for yourself. And those who are against him and the royalty should be smarter and focus their attention towards him and Sindel. Keyword, should.

So, when Zeffeero is met by the couriers during his duties, he’s confused. The only words he can make out in their frantic speech is your name, and hostage. Which snaps him out of his normally calm demeanor. But, regardless, he does his best to stay collected. He gets the couriers to explain the situation clearly, that Sindel’s detractors had chosen you out of all people to make an example. The good news is that it was dealt with just as quickly as you had been taken away, criminals don’t really get their way so easily in Sun Do, especially.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t do a number on you. Rain immediately puts his work to the side and meets you at the infirmary. You’re pretty beat up, a couple bruises on your arms and a gash on your forehead, and the medics inform him that you’ll need to stay here for at least another week, you’ve gotten a couple of bruised ribs, as well. For the next couple of days, he is by your bedside, perfectly on time when the medics open up visiting hours. He’ll even do his work by your side, filling countless journals and going through way too many reports as he does.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Stealth missions require the utmost focus, especially ones of this caliber. Tomas is confident in your ability, so he doesn’t worry unnecessarily over you. But his mind can tend to wander sometimes. Still, he does his best to remain on track, stalking through the rampart. It was a simple recon mission, keep an eye on the territory. It had been left abandoned after the events of Armageddon, but there had been indications that Bi-Han was looking to start something there again. Considering the cyberization of the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang and Tomas agreed to simply check it out, make sure nothing was being done.

And they were right to be suspicious. Either out of paranoia, or a hunch, Bi-Han had sent scouts as well. This makes the operation a lot more high-risk, both parties may be aware of each other, but have no idea where the other is. It looks as if there’s a rather hefty amount of spies in the rampart as well. As Tomas stalks through the tops of the wall, searching for anything slightly out of place, he gets the sudden feeling that he’s being watched.

Just as he raises his head, he hears the thwip of a bow string, causing him to jerk away from his position. An arrow flies past his head, a few centimeters from it, and as he follows it’s trajectory, he sees you, across the rampart. Fighting with two ninjas, doing your best to, well, stay alive. Realizing that you two are horribly outnumbered, he completely ignores the archer behind him. Utilizing his practical magic, he wastes no time disappearing and taking off. It’s not as easy as it sounds, practically throwing himself off the wall and doing what he can to make it across the rampart. As adrenaline rushes through him, his actions are near mindless, reckless, jumping over stray ballistas and rubble. Does he know that this could put his life at risk? That it puts the mission at risk? Yes. But there’s a tiny voice inside of him that screams at him, tells him you are much more important than the mission. He got the intel anyways.

Things blur together for Tomas after that. He can’t remember exactly how he reached you, he can’t remember what he did with the two ninjas, the only thing that brings him back to the present moment is the pained breaths of yours and heaved gasps. He’d been singing some lullaby that he couldn’t remember the name of, his voice cracking here and there. His throat is raw, blood pouring from a head wound, and he can’t tell if the blood coating his arms is from you, who lay motionless (but thankfully breathing) in his arms, the ninjas, or his own. He’s barely noticed that he’s made his way to Harumi’s house. Not to Kuai Liang– to Harumi. Which, eventually, the knowledge that you’ve been hurt and that the Lin Kuei are pushing to claim territory over the Rampart. When Harumi guides the two of you to a room while she calls for the medics, all Tomas can do is blame himself. He’s spaced out the entire time, the only thing that snaps him out of his catatonic state is when they try to separate the two of you. He doesn’t let them. He doesn’t let anyone separate you from him. He’s too scared that he will lose you.

⎯ Baraka

While the restrictions on those inflicted with Tarkat have been lifted slightly, there is still some public animosity towards Tarkattens. And some of those people tend to direct their anger at those who support this decision, or those close to those afflicted with Tarkat. And unfortunately, you just so happen to be one of those people.

You aren’t entirely vocal about your relationship with Baraka, but you aren’t entirely quiet about it, either. The only reason Baraka doesn’t talk about you two is because he is afraid of what could happen to you. It doesn’t matter if the public’s opinion will turn, if there will ever be a cure, he has always been distant. He loves you, and good god, he’d do anything to even hold your hand. But he is afraid. He can’t help but be afraid of what will happen to you.

And rightfully so, when you are visiting Sun Do with Baraka. It’s a routine visit, to talk about how to integrate precautions for those with Tarkat, and how the vaccine progress is coming along. It feels like hours in a stuffy room, talking with Mileena. Eventually, you step out for a moment, to get some fresh air, and to clear your head. Unfortunately, one of the people against the aid for Tarkattens takes this as an opportunity to attack you in broad daylight.

Luckily, you don’t have to suffer much. A couple of kicks and hits that have left a couple of bruises, but the Constabulary was able to pull them off you quickly. The commotion brings Mileena and Baraka out, which leaves you feeling a little flustered. Needless to say, the talks for that day are cut short, and Baraka spends his time worrying about you. He asks you to stay in Sun Do for a while, that he can handle the talks himself now.

⎯ Syzoth

Syzoth’s biggest fear is Shang Tsung. Even after all is said and done, the fear still lingers. With his past, he can’t help but worry, especially about you. He wants to imagine a future with you, and he’s more than content with the days you two spend together, but he will never be able to shake the idea of his happiness being ripped from him again. While he is still all cuddly with you, there is something always gnawing at him. An eternal dread.

And his fears come true, in some way. He had to leave home for a couple of days, out on official business. It was nothing major, nothing that would pull him from you for longer than a week. Integrating yourself along with Zatterans was a challenge alright, something you didn’t mind facing. Syzoth had said it was a good way to get them used to humans, to earthrealmers.

However, when he comes back home, he is greeted by you, with a black eye, and multiple, bandaged, gashes down your arms. You smile at him warmly, despite your injuries, which have had at least two days to heal. He’s stunned, and after a moment of silence, he’s all over you, asking question after question. Despite what he asks, he knows what the Zatterans have done to you.

He tells himself he should’ve known, as they had killed those with his mutation, he should’ve known that they would’ve treated you the same. You can’t give him exact details, you can’t even give him a description. It happened all too fast, and you were helpless in the moment. He spends the next week by your side, never leaving, unless it was for food, or necessities. When you two are out, he’s very diligent about his surroundings, and those around them. Most of the Zaterrans express their apologies to you, even if it wasn’t them, which makes Syzoth even more wary about who he should be keeping an eye on.

⎯ Havik

Danger comes with the territory of dating Havik. Yeah, he keeps you close, but he’s wanted. And he’s well aware, he tends to get himself in fights quite often. If you wanna participate? Hells yeah, he’s all in. But if you’d rather sit back, hide away, anything like that, he doesn’t mind. Even if he prefers a more active partner on the battlefield. Just because he’s got his anarchic ways and enjoys a little bloodbath every now and then, doesn’t mean he’s thrown care and (at least) sympathy into the wind. Granted, it’s hard to coax that reaction out of him.

But, it’s different with you. His heart; quite literally. He’d do anything for you, he’s (almost) as obedient as a dog. But when he gets to watch you in kombat… it’s a treat. He’s like actually drooling. He’s got a twisted sort of smile on his face when you slash through enemies. Sometimes just the thought of it makes him blush. He’s a little fucked up, actually! But for a being who thrives on chaos, that’s the norm.

When it comes to you being injured, if it’s just a little nick, (which is categorized very loosely; can be deep cuts, slashes, not just a scrape) he doesn’t find any reason to retaliate against your assailant. Havik is proud to have a lover that can take care of things themselves, but that doesn’t mean he won’t leap at the chance to tear someone limb from limb. Especially if you’re wounded near fatally. That’s when any semblance of humanity leaves him. He’s brutal, horribly so, and for once, you have to turn your head away.

When the fight’s done, Havik returns to you, covered in blood and viscera. He made it quick, as much as he would’ve enjoyed making it slow and painful, he knows that time is of the essence. Given his situation, he can’t really take you anywhere. So a little impromptu ‘healing’ session is underway. Some alcohol (that’s 100% not stolen) and some pressure to make sure the bleeding stops and that you don’t get an infection. After, he’s got to stitch up the wound. As he does so, he’s murmuring praises,– a rare thing from him, really– doing his best to make this as painless as possible.

⎯ General Shao

There is no greater place than the battlefield to Shao. It is something he grew up on, and to be fighting side by side with his beloved, it fills him with pride. Of course, he knows the dangers, he knows there’s a target on his back, but he could care less. He almost revels in it. Yes, he’ll worry about you, but he also knows that you can handle yourself.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t above teaching those who choose to hurt you a lesson. He’s sensible, he’s strong, and he’s just a little, teensy weensy bit protective of you. Of course, you can handle fights on your own. But it’s when the enemies got you in a tough spot, managed to daze you, anything like that. That’s when Shao lets hell break loose.

A sword pierces through your arm, and while it’s not fatal, the minute Shao sees it, he’s raging. A bloody warpath follows him as he marches towards the assailant, the opponent he had been fighting long forgotten. He can’t gloss over an injury like that, he is unsure if they had cut through the brachial artery. So he makes it quick, practically splitting them in two as you watch. The battle continues to rage on, but all Shao can do is huff and encourage you to make an escape,– mainly because he’s afraid you might bleed to death– even if you don’t want to.

At the end of it all, you oblige, retreating and making it to the field medics. You are glad to hear that they did not cut through your brachial artery, and that you won’t bleed to death. But the gash in your arm still needs treatment. You’re stuck in that tent for quite a bit, mourning the loss of a good fight. That is, until Shao interrupts. He’s barely pulled back the tarp of the entrance, and he’s already looking for you. And when he spots you, lying down with a defeated look, bored as hell, he’s at your side within an instant. He needs to know the damage, if it’ll take you out of combat, etc etc. He quietly worries over you, which is quite charming in its own way.

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung is no pushover. He may be despised, he may have been outcast, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stand there and take it. Especially when it comes to you. He’s a bit of a drama queen, sure, but he’s charming. Even after everything, it seems like people won’t forgive him. They aren’t wrong to leave him unforgiven, either.

But, their anger should be pointed towards him. So when he receives a letter for ransom via courier, he’s rightfully pissed. How dare they take his sunshine away from him, all because of what he’s done. What he’s done. And to try and rip him off, as well. You aren’t worth a mere 50,000 koins! You’re worth at least 5mil! Needless to say, he’s fuming.

What’s he going to do? Ask the Constabulary to help? No! He’s more than capable of handling it himself. A little dirt on his hands never hurt anybody. Time is short, so he rushes over the details. A couple sleepless nights spent scouting, collecting any sort of information, and he’s off to a shabby little shack in the wastes. The audacity of these people to not only take you from him, demand 50k koins, but also keep you in some run-down place! As much as he’s nitpicking what they’ve done to you, he’s doing it to calm himself down. Yeah, he’s got this in the bag, but any one taking his love from him, especially with malicious intent, makes him scarier than his most evil counterparts.

It is there where Shang Tsung finds out the kidnappers haven’t necessarily… prepared. Only two captors, and they’re dealt with easily. Torn into like meat, left to rot. He disregards their state, food for the vultures and whichever desperate soul wanders past. You’re a mess, head down, mind hazy, legs weak. He treats you like a knight saving his darling, picking you up bridal style. He coos at you, whispering things like ‘you’re alright’, and ‘I’m here now’ as he takes you away.

⎯ Reiko

It’s a calm evening, paired with a little sparring. As Reiko watches you train an over-ambitious rookie, he seems lost in thought. Why? It’s unsure. It feels like he’s simply lost his grip lately, he feels that he hasn’t been doing well in combat, and has actually regressed with his progress. Seeing you humble the soldier over and over again somehow reminds him of this, telling himself he needs to catch up on his training, build on his weaknesses.

It’s a subtle snap that brings him back to reality. It seems the trainee had enough of your teaching, and didn’t quite enjoy the lessons you were drilling– punching– into them. They’ve managed to pin you down, thanks to a very direct, very heated punch to the face. They’ve got you in a headlock, spouting nonsense at you like you’ve greatly offended them. You groan, so close to yelling out uncle. But, you’ve gotta admit, you like their fire. Even if it severely clouds their judgment.

Reiko is quick to pull them off of you, grabbing them by the nape as if they were a dog. It’s a little bit of a struggle, mainly the trainee squirming and protesting like a child who’s been denied candy. It’s shameful for him, but the very thought of the runt taking advantage of the moment to hurt you makes him believe they are unbefitting of a soldier. And it makes him a little pissed. He’s lecturing them, doing his best to hold back some very choice words. All the while you’re nursing your possibly broken nose, trying to get Reiko to let up on them. Eventually, you just shoo them away, and then give Reiko his own lecture. They’re your student, so they’ll get your discipline.

He’s not the best at consoling you, especially over something that he’s deemed ‘minor’. A quick ‘are you okay?’ and a nod is all he really gives you. But, after you’ve ended the training session early, and confirmed that your nose isn’t broken, Reiko picks up the opportunity to hone in his skills. Given the fact that you still had time left in your schedule, you take up his offer.

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

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thevoidstaredback · 9 months ago

Text

Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.

He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.

Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!

Off topic.

Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.

The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?

More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.

***

Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.

That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.

"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.

"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."

"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."

"Funny, coming from you."

"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."

Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."

"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"

Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"

"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."

"Sorry."

"You better be."

"Hey!"

"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"

A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"

"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."

"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."

"You know you can't dodge them all forever."

"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."

A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"

"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."

"Then refuse to answer."

Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."

Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."

"What about Batman and his brood?"

"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."

"I can try,"

"But you'll fail."

Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."

Part 5 Part 7

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff

#part 6 #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant #no ships #dc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #teen titans #justice league dark #john constantine #demon hunting #it's actually less hunting and more of an offhanded mention

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago

Note

I’d love to see more of the Emotional Marks AU. I want to see the reveal and the Bats having the realization that just because they’re doing better /now/, it doesn’t fix the damage they did before. And that they can’t force things to heal. Healing takes time.

Post being mentioned is here

What I'm curious about is if it's a human only thing or if others (like Kyrptonians, Martians, Atlanteans, etc.) also get marks.

Anyways, here's some more stuff I thought of. As always, take as little or as much as you'd like of it ^^

Tim never takes off the object hiding his marks, even for himself. It's part habit and part desperation to never see how much his loved ones have actually hurt him.

He's unique in that he isn't sure where most of his marks come from. People usually see the marks within 24 hours of their appearance. Tim has gone years between seeing his own marked skin.

As I've stated before, the object works like glamor. Therefore, those with enough magic power would be able to see past it. This is part of why Tim wanted pants for the Robin uniform (any magicians working with Robin would see the moment they saw any of Tim's bare skin). Tim is very lucky the marks on his face only appeared a bit before he became Red Robin (and part of his reason for the cowl).

Marks typically stay away from the face. They only appear there if symbolically significant or if the marks are running out of space elsewhere on the body. Bart and Kon dying really did a number on Tim even though it wasn't their fault.

YJ and Dick have helped soothe some of the marks left behind by the Drakes (and Bruce too if you want good dad Bruce). Quite a bit have even fully disappeared due to them.

Tim still collected them like Halloween candy, though.

Major marks and their placement [though feel free to offer different ideas]:

Bruce calling Tim "Jason" - x on the back of neck

16th birthday - Major gash on right temple hidden by hair

Janet dying - splintering cracks along hand (bigger version of the one Janet fakes)

Jack coma then death - line in left calf then up to mid back of thigh

Bart dying - right side from under armpit to end of ribs gash

Kon dying - giant oval over sternum

Jason's TT attack - left foot/ankle cracks

Damian's attacks - stomach area

Losing Robin - largest slash diagonal across back (left shoulder to right hip)

There's more marks, but the ones on his face are caused by people not believing in him [this is not a "they should have" argument. It would have hurt regardless of what they should have done]

Hmm... So, the reveal? I'm thinking a magician. This would be after Tim switches back to just a mask and no cowl. His face marks would be on display for magicians but no one else. He, wrongly, assumed he'd be fine.

He's playing nice with the Bats at this point, even if he doesn't fully trust them. He loves them and wants to keep the peace. He'd never voluntarily show them his marks or tell them about it.

The Bats are being nicer under the idea that their assumptions about markless were incorrect. It weirds Tim out and usually has him ghosting them for a few days if they try to initiate feeling conversations with him. He kind of wishes they would just go back to normal.

It's a few months of this behavior before some magician makes a remark about Tim's facial marks. Something along the lines of, "You okay, Red? You're aware of how dangerous it is for marks to progress as far as the face, right?"

Cause what happens when there's no more room for marks? Drastic decrease in physical health. Could lead to death.

The Bats overhear and promptly freak the fuck out again.

Tim, who has been dealing with their bullshit for the last few months and doesn't want to deal with the confrontation, disappears. He's waiting for them to process their shit before returning [he loves them but does not want to be caught in that fucking whirlwind. Bats notoriously do not handle emotions well]

#tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #emotional marks au

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months ago

Note

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

I Might Change Your Life, I Might Save My World

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (pre/early)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD Violence and Gore; Mentions of canonical character death; Some verbal aggression

A/N: I had them on the run alone. I hope that’s okay!

*gif is not mine

The run had so far been uneventful. You’d even dare say boring. That was a word that wasn’t used carelessly. Life in the apocalypse was rarely boring and usually consisted of running for your life while scrounging up anything possible to ensure you could just survive. At least you were out with Daryl. He was your best friend and could usually keep you at least mildly entertained whether or not it was intentional.

You were a survivor of the Governor’s insanity at Woodbury. It had seemed safe enough, but he had fooled everyone. Or maybe he had at one point been a kind, reasonable man that was just pushed too far by the cruelty of the end of the world. Regardless, it was there that you had met Merle, the right hand man. You had always teased him about that. Right hand? Get it? To most people, it would have seemed cruel, but not to Merle Dixon. He would ruffle your hair with a gentle shove and tell you to get lost.

You never did.

When Merle left, you had followed and he had allowed it. He even held your arm and dragged you out behind him. That’s when you actually met Daryl. You had seen him in the fight pit, eyes wide as the Governor revealed he was Merle’s younger brother. He had never mentioned having a brother. Maybe he had thought him dead. Most would say Daryl was everything Merle was not, but they just didn’t know the elder Dixon like you did. Merle was crass, sometimes downright unkind, but below that rough exterior, he had a big heart. He was learning, little by little. You would have liked to take some credit for that.

Daryl had left his group that day, following Merle, just as you did. You remained quiet, watching the younger Dixon watching you. He looked almost wary, but there was a naked curiosity there too. When the two butted heads, you trailed behind while Daryl led the way back to the prison. Where he belonged, he had said.

You had fit in easily. Merle, not so much. It made your heart ache for him when you could see the poorly hidden love he had for his little brother. He was absolute shit at showing it, sometimes selfish, but it was there. When he proved it by trying to be better, trying to show Daryl that he could do the right thing, it had cost him his life. You blamed Daryl for the longest time. You knew it wasn’t his fault, deep down, but you needed someone to catch the fury of your grief. The archer had taken it willingly.

When the prison fell, you had tried and failed to save Beth. Grieving yet again, right on the heels of losing Merle and then Hershel and then your home, you found a way out with Daryl, leaving the two of you stuck together on the road, alone and with a dense cloud of animosity billowing between you. It wasn’t until one night in a rundown home that Daryl had said reminded him of where he grew up, moonshine was flowing and then so were the emotions. You had both yelled, thrown things, killed the walkers that the fight attracted while continuing the verbal onslaught. In the end, drained and resigned, the two of you had talked.

And the rest was history.

Alexandria had been a saving grace. It had taken a while to adjust. For Daryl, he had never lived in a community like that. He slept on the porch most nights, fleeing the confined spaces that left his chest heaving and his skin damp with sweat. You felt as if it were Woodbury all over again, destined to crash and burn and leave the group nothing but ashes. So, you slept on the porch with him, if for no other reason than to keep a fellow outsider close. You both knew it was more than that.

Months had gone by. You had both finally moved inside a house and were even closer now than you had once been to Merle, which was surprising. Rick was confident in sending the two of you out together. You got shit done. That day in particular, things just weren’t moving in your favor.

For one, it was cold. The seasons were changing and you hadn’t adequately prepared for the chill in the air, especially when on the bike. The two of you were scouting for places that could possibly still have necessary supplies. Daryl had—as always—been quick to notice your discomfort. Though he had usually sewn the sleeves of jackets right onto his sleeveless shirts, that day, he had actually worn a leather jacket.

“Here.” He shoved the article toward you, prompting a raised brow in response.

“What for?” You queried. It was a stupid question, but useless banter always kept things light between the two of you, comfortable even if Daryl would always claim the opposite. The space that lingered was never oppressive, not anymore.

“You’re cold, idiot.”

“Daryl Dixon is being sweet to me. This is one for the record books!” You chuckled while slipping on the jacket. The hunter scowled and bumped you with his elbow.

“Stop.”

“Didn’t hear you disagree.” You would have continued to tease if he hadn’t held up a fist just in front of you, the signal to be still and silent. The telltale groans, snarls, and shuffling feet were growing closer, blocking the two of you from the bike. “Aw, crap.”

“Yup.” He agreed, leaning around the corner of the building just enough to see the sizable herd. “Need a plan.” He mumbled, unclipping the sheath of his knife for a quick draw when needed.

“Got one.”

“What?” When Daryl turned, you were already rounding the opposite corner of the building with a quiet shout of get the bike. “That fuckin’ woman’s gonna be the death’a me.”

There were a great deal more undead than you had anticipated. “Well, hell.” You grumbled. It was too late to turn around, several of the milky yellow eyes already landing on you. As you walked backward, keeping a safe distance but close enough to hold their attention, you could see Daryl peeking out from the corner. You exchanged nods before you began to wave your arms. “Hey! Over here! Keep your eyes on me!!” The noise ensured that Daryl’s already near silent footfalls would go unnoticed. He would get the bike, circle the herd, and you’d jump on. Piece of cake.

Until you bumped right into a walker that led the other half of aforementioned herd.

“Oh, fuck!” Quickly grabbing its throat to hold it back, you pivoted, walking backward toward the open area at the edges of the corpses. Daryl was shouting your name, the bike roaring to life. You just happened to choose the wrong time to glance in his direction in an attempt to gauge the distance between you. The next walker had fallen somehow, levering clumsily to its feet just beside the one you were grappling with, your knife having just sank into that one’s skull. There was no time to react. You could only watch the blade slip free as the teeth came together on your arm. It was painful but nothing like you had expected, more pressure than anything. Still, it was too late. You were bit.

“Y/N!!” Daryl shouted, grabbing you away from the dead man, your arm slipping free from its jaws to throw it off balance. That gave you a chance to climb on behind Daryl, the injured arm cradled to your chest while the other wrapped tightly around his abdomen. “Just a minute, just hang on. We’ll take care’a this.” He was rambling anxiously, the cool wind whipping and stinging as the herd grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

“I’m bit. I’m bit. I’m bit.” You chanted against Daryl’s back, only barely holding back your sobs. The bike slowed to a stop, the kickstand lowered roughly before Daryl was scrambling off when you should have been the first to move.

“Lemme see.” When your teary eyes met his, he growled through the sting at his waterline. “Lemme fuckin’ see!” He wasn’t as gentle as he could have been but he didn’t hurt you. Pulling your arm away from your chest roughly, he grabbed the shoulder of the jacket and yanked it down, ripping one of the seams in the process. You were both greeted with bruising flesh, the slightest indents of where teeth had vehemently pressed, but no broken skin. No blood. No scratches. While you stared in a shocked relief, Daryl wasn’t so graceful. His legs buckled and he went down hard to his knees. “Goddamn it, Y/N!”

“I’m okay.” You blinked, eyes transfixed on your arm. It hurt but it wasn’t a death sentence. You weren’t going to turn. “I’m okay, Daryl.” You smiled through the tears, now falling for an entirely different reason. “Daryl?” He was trembling fiercely, his shoulders moving in a way that suggested he might have been crying. You started to throw your leg over the seat to comfort him when he drew back his arm and planted his fist into the asphalt with a crunch that made your stomach turn.

“You’re so fuckin’ stupid!” He roared, barreling upright to stand with his nose nearly touching yours. You were too shocked to react properly. “Ya couldn’a waited for a actual plan, just had to go balls to the wall an’ run out there like a fuckin’ lunatic!” Your eyes followed anxiously as he started to pace.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to get us out there in one piece. I didn’t even see the—”

His uninjured hand grabbed your wrist, tight and firm but not without care. He’d never hurt you. Not intentionally. Not physically, at least. “Ya call this one piece? I woulda had to take your arm, ya fuckin’ useless idiot!” That sent you reeling. Daryl had been angry with you before, but for things like keeping the squirrel over the fire for too long or kneeing him in the groin while trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. But that? That was different.

If Merle Dixon had taught you anything, it was to never show how you really felt. When you began to laugh, Daryl dropped your arm and stepped back, eyes wide and full of disbelief. “My god, you’re dramatic. I’m fine, Dixon. Let’s just chalk this up to a shit day and get the fuck out of here.”

“A shit d—are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“Stop it. Get on the bike and let’s go.” You pulled the jacket back onto your arm, your red flannel peering through the tear in the shoulder. Now adjusted once again and ready to go, you looked back to find him still staring at you with the same incredulous expression. You chuckled and shook your head. “Stop being ridiculous. Let’s go.”

“Nah.” He was stepping backwards with his own head twisting back and forth. “Take the bike and go home. M’gonna walk.”

“It’s at least fifteen miles and it’s cold. Now who’s being stupid?” When he turned his back, leaving his crossbow strapped to the motorcycle, you actually began to panic. You could drive the bike, sure. He had taught you a few months back, just in case. Still, leaving him behind with nothing but his knife was not something you would do without a fight. “Daryl! Seriously, please, let’s go.” He ignored you, stalking off into the trees until the wings of his vest disappeared.

Chasing him wasn’t a good idea. You knew him well enough to know that much. Or did you? It had been a long time since an argument like that, one where both of you had shut down in one way or another. You started the bike, toeing up the kickstand before propelling it forward, your chest constricting tighter and tighter with every mile.

It had taken him far longer than necessary to make the walk back to Alexandria’s gates. Granted, he’d stopped for several smokes to calm himself down. He’d slide down the nearest tree and sit there—flexing his throbbing fingers—until he had drawn the cigarette down to the filter or he heard the incoming growls of the walkers that had been tailing him. He had to take an extra half hour to put down the ones he could and lose the ones he couldn’t. By the time Sasha pulled open the gates, Daryl was bone weary and more than a little ashamed of how he’d reacted.

“Seen Y/N?” He asked in lieu of answering when she questioned where he’d been.

“She came back a while ago. Haven’t seen her since. Sorry.” She patted his shoulder and returned to her post. You were back, so that anxiety was at least remedied.

Still, he needed to talk to you. The way you had laughed in the face of his anger had unnerved him. It reminded him so much of his brother that it hurt. That type of behavior didn’t suit you. Then again, who was he to tell you how to behave? He had spoken to you so harshly instead of just telling you that you scared the shit out of him. He should have hugged you and been thankful that you didn’t lose your arm, didn’t lose your life. But emotions and Daryl weren’t exactly on speaking terms. When he didn’t understand why or how something made him feel a certain way, he lashed out at it. He was conditioned that way, it was in his blood. He had been trying so hard to be better. He actually thought he was getting better. Boy, he couldn’t have been more wrong. He was still a work in progress. He needed you to know that. He needed to apologize, even if it burned coming out of his mouth to admit he was wrong, to admit to feeling anything at all.

Damn you for wiggling your way into his useless heart. He thought he had crushed and buried the thing years ago. Then you came tagging along on his brother’s heels and challenged everything he thought he knew about himself. He chose not to acknowledge it, even when people like Carol and Rick did. Often.

Sighing, he stopped on the porch of the home he shared with you and Carol, lighting up a cigarette and leaning over the railing on his forearms. He would have assumed that you’d already spilled everything to Carol but when she didn’t barrel out of the house with a rolling pin aimed at his head, it was easy to figure out that you hadn’t. Maybe you hadn’t even been home yet. He trampled that worry down quickly, not willing to let it compound into another wave of anger he’d have to answer for eventually.

The streets were quiet with the sun now completely gone, replaced by the waning crescent moon. There was enough light for him to see, of course. His eyes were trained from years of hunting and surviving out in nature. He could hear frogs close to the pond, even hear the paper of his cigarette sizzling with each drag. But then he heard something else. Something that shattered him to his very core because he knew immediately what and who and why it was.

He didn’t bother to keep his steps light. It wouldn’t do to surprise you. You’d just be even more upset without time to even try and compose yourself. Even so, it was possible you still didn’t hear him approaching. Your sobs and sniffles continued, probably barely audible to anyone who didn’t know how to listen and not just hear.

You were perched on the bench beneath the gazebo, knees drawn up to your chest with your face hidden behind them. Even in the dark, he could see your shoulders shaking. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching you but once it was clear that you hadn’t noticed him, he cleared his throat. Had it been any other day, any other situation, the way you unfolded and nearly climbed over the back of the bench would have been comical. Maybe it still would be when the two of you looked back on this, but that was only if he could make things right.

“Hey.” He rasped, still rooted to the same spot.

You sniffed, wiping at your face with the sleeve of your flannel. The leather jacket was nowhere to be seen. “Hi.” All the confidence from earlier was gone, leaving your voice but a tiny echo of the woman that had called him dramatic. “I’m glad you made it back safely.”

“Ya alright?” He chanced a step toward you, pausing after one when your eyes darted down to his boots and back up. God, he felt like an asshole. Were you afraid of him now?

“Mhm. I’m okay.” You sniffed again and settled back onto the seat, pulling your knees against you once again. “I hung your jacket on the doorknob of your room. I fixed the sleeve.”

Great. You fixed the thing he tore. Now he felt like a major asshole. “Listen, Y/N, I—”

“It’s okay, Daryl.” You interjected, offering him a small, feigned smile while your eyes betrayed you. “Carol has dinner ready. I put your plate in the oven.” It was just getting better and better. You had still thought of him enough to make sure he had something to eat when he got back. And the award for Asshole of the Year goes to: Daryl Dixon.

You stood so quickly that he nearly flinched. “I should—I have a new job assignment tomorrow. Need to get some sleep.”

That threw him. “New—ya ain’t goin’ out anymore?” You shook your head.

“I’m gonna work in the pantry, dabble in the armory too. Give Olivia a break sometimes.” Your tone wasn’t cold but bordered on emotionless. You’d asked Rick to take you off the run list, and you’d done it because of him.

“Y/N, don’t do that.” He watched as you approached, your head down. If you hadn’t seen his boots when he stepped into your path, you surely would have slammed into him. “Shouldn’a talked to ya the way I did.” Even while you looked off to the side, he could see the way your face screwed up like you were about to cry again, but after a moment, you settled.

“No, you were right. I should have waited. Things could have gone a lot differently. I didn’t stop to think about how you would have felt if I had been bitten.” Daryl deflated at the utter dejection in your voice. “Anyway, goodnight, Daryl.”

Watching you walk away, your arms wrapped around yourself so tightly, he let himself think about it; allowed himself to think about what he would have felt if you had been bitten. It wasn’t anger then. It was loss, despair, guilt. Whether he’d had to have taken your arm or not, the prospect of possibly losing you was more than he could even think to bear. What was more terrifying was that he realized that your loss would devastate him more than his own brother’s had.

“Y/N, wait!”

He couldn’t let you think he had acted that way out of anger alone. Yes, he had been angry but he had been scared. He couldn’t say you were his closest friend. That spot was taken by Carol. You were something else entirely. Something that he would never get the chance to explore or define, fear and awkwardness be damned, if something happened to you.

His feet were carrying him toward you at a brisk pace, your eyes wide at his approach but you didn’t move. You didn’t flinch or cower, even when he grabbed your shoulder and pulled in against his chest, wrapping both arms around you to hold you there.

“M’sorry.” He whispered into your hair. You weren’t hugging him back but that was most likely because your arms were pinned between the two of you. “Ain’t no reason for me to ever talk to ya like that. Ya ain’t stupid. You’re quick on your feet an’ it ain’t fair’a me to fault ya on that just cause m’too scared to lose ya.” He felt your sharp inhale while his face and neck flushed at the admission. “I—Christ, ain’t no good at this talkin’ an’ shit.” When your shoulders shook, he knew he’d made you cry again and took a step back, his hands sliding up to hold your shoulders. While that was true, the movement was from the laughter bubbling up from your chest instead of the tears falling down your cheeks. “The hell ya laughing at?”

“I like you too, Daryl.” Goddamnit, you had a pretty smile. He’d make a fool of himself ten times over if it meant you’d give him that smile just once.

“Ain’t a thing ‘bout likin’ ya.” He swallowed hard and looked away, the pink hue on his cheeks deepening. “Don’t know what it is, but, uh—well, maybe we can try to figure it out together?” He sounded like a lovesick teenager and was two seconds away from rolling his eyes so hard that they would relocate permanently to the back of his skull.

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” He straightened, expression embarrassingly hopeful.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and stepped back, not feeling like he’d entirely lost the right to call himself a man. “So, uh—Guess we should tell Rick that Olivia can get Spencer to help her. Maybe he’d stop oglin’ ya all the damn time if he’s cooped up in the pantry.” You reached for his hand and he let you take it. “Maybe I could talk her into lockin’ him in there for a while.” The walk back to the house wasn’t a long one and all too quickly, you were climbing the porch steps just in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want other guys checking out your girl?”

Daryl almost missed the top step. “My girl?” He didn’t mean for it to come out quite so breathlessly. He was mostly definitely losing his man card that night. You were blinking at him, your smile slowly faltering.

“I—I misunderstood, didn’t I? Jesus, Daryl, I’m—”

“Nah.” He quickly derailed that train of thought. “Just liked hearin’ ya say it s’all.”

“Are you—”

“Yup.” The smile was back and Daryl could breathe again. Somehow, standing there with you on the porch and him on the top step, just staring at one another was more comfortable than he could have ever imagined.

“So,” you began, twisting your upper half back and forth, “you walked me home. Are you gonna say goodnight and kiss me now?”

Daryl’s face contorted in confusion, a dark brow arching. “I, uh—I live here too.”

“Does that really matter?” You asked, stepping a little closer.

“Guess it don’t, really.” When you leaned forward, he didn’t stop you. Found that he didn’t want to. Even as new and undefined as whatever this was, this felt right and he’d be damned if he’d let a chance like that pass him by.

Inside the house, Carol swirled the wine around in her glass, watching the kiss happen with a sigh of relief. “Finally.” Picking up her book, she took a sip and placed the glass down on the table before opening to the dog-eared page. “Now I don’t have to lock them in the pantry together tomorrow.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl dixon #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst

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mrsnancywheeler · 1 year ago

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andante, andante // finnick odair x f. reader

masterlist

3.3k words

request: could you write a oneshot where finnick and reader have always had a flirty relationship. the reader got taken and tortured by snow during the quarter quell, and she was brought to thirteen and when finnick sees her lots of fluff (and maybe smut?) ensues. i love your work, happy 700 followers!

warnings: smut, lots of it, there's some angst in the beginning Captiol related, confessions of feelings, hurt/comfort in the beginning, pnv, some degredation, teasing, use of good girl, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, unedited

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There was no energy left, not a single part of your body had any form of passion left. Long ago you'd grown immune to the effects that Peeta and Johanna's screams had once had on you, probably once the starvation and dehydration had kicked in. Not to mention when you were trying to fight off the rats you could swear where in your pitch black cell, sometimes you'd swear you saw other creatures as well, but you tried to tell yourself it was hallucinations.

So when the team from District 13 came to rescue you all, you desperately willed the energy to return. You couldn't see him like this, Finnick. Technically you were just friends, but your relationship hinged on the flirtatious, playful banter which you didn't know if you had anymore. You hadn't spoken in a while, maybe you wouldn't even recognize your voice, it's not like the Capitol had much information they could get out of you. No one had thought to inform you of the rebel plan, for a while part of you was terrified that Snow would just have you killed for not knowing anything, but you were kept alive.

You'd had endless time to spend, when you weren't hearing or seeing things in your hazy state, to think about Finnick. How you weren't sure if he felt the same way about you that you'd felt about him for years, but should've said something before all this. Wishing that before you surely died in the Capitol he would know you had always cared for him, loved him from afar. You'd rather die with your love unrequited, but known. Yet now you'd see him again and you hoped if there was a chance he had feelings for you that you were half the woman you once were.

Of course, once all the fluids the medics were pumping you full of had taken effect you'd probably feel some of the spirit you'd had return. The universe seemed to look down on you because the first feeling you did feel in full force was anxiety about Finnick. You'd heard whispers of his names from guards so you knew he wasn't dead, but hadn't a clue how he actually was. Maybe you'd made up the voices of the guards and he actually was dead, what a cruel fate that would be, but with the way your life seemed to pan out it wouldn't have shocked you. Although if he was alive it condemned you to living the rest of your life in silent adoration, but he was the only person you would ever do that for.

When you entered the District 13 base on that medical bed the next full force feeling hit, overstimulation. The only noise you had been used to in weeks were the cries of Peeta and Johanna which you'd learned to tune out regardless of how loud, and the occasional order from a guard or a whisper. The flurry of doctors ready to fully assess injuries, people standing around full of questions, all the chatter and noise had your hands flying up to cover your ears. It was too bright, too loud, the bed was rickety in the floors little bumps, and you actually longed to be back in the familiarity of the cell.

“Hey, you're okay, honey." A much softer voice, much closer, warms ringer delicately brushing the hands covering your ears. Finnick. Your eyes snapped open as you slowly observed him.

“Finnick?" Your voice was much quieter, scratchier than you'd remembered it, but he seemed to hear you just fine. His kind smile blessing you as he slowly nodded, the next emotion was relief. You hadn't cried in a while, no water to allow yourself, but the fluids must have been working miracles because you felt like there was a flood about to break through your tear ducts. “You're real right?"

His hand landed more firmly on yours, assuring you with his very real body heat. “I'm real, I'm right here with you." Slowly you moved your hands from your ears, forcing yourself to take deep breaths to handle the noise. He looked like he was going to cry, “God, I'm so glad you're okay!" Finnick's warm embrace surrounded you and it made you want to melt into him forever. “They kept sedating me because I was so worried about you."

It confused you, to hear him talking about worrying about you with so much passion, of course he'd consumed your every thought, but you'd doubted you would've been on his. “Oh, come on, you would've found someone else to banter with, Finn." The first laugh you'd had in so long forced itself out.

“Good thing that the only person I want to banter with is you, and here you are, pretty face and all."

There was a pause before your voice came out again, delicate like a flower petal floating on the waters. "I missed you.” It came out sounding more vulnerable then you'd intended, maybe even too fond and he'd pulled his arms away. Before you could retreat though you were shocked when his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, and spoke a thousand words you could only ever wish to translate.

When he pulled away you could only stare at him stunned, he'd felt the same way you'd felt all along. “I'm sorry, I-" Before he could finish you pulled his face back in, kissing him, it was addictive, you could drown in his lips. “You know, it's rude to interrupt." He muttered out before kissing you again.

“Sorry." You weren't, there was no time to be when it was like you living in a dream. Maybe this was a dream, maybe you were back in the Capitol and had officially lost it, but the heat of his touch was too real for you to believe that.

“I've loved you for so long." Finnick's hand cupped your face which must have been burning up.

“Me too, I didn't think you'd ever even noticed me that way."

“How could I not have noticed my pretty, sweet girl that way?" His smile was so perfect it made you feel like you were floating. The doctors insisted on doing an official check up on you which Finnick stuck by you diligently for. Fluids and food was all you really needed besides further psychological evaluation, but there wasn't much time for that when apparently Peeta was turning out to be the biggest problem imaginable.

Finnick had sat by your hospital bed, slowly feeding you a soup that felt like the best thing you'd ever eaten with all the time you'd gone without a scrap. He filled you in on life in District 13, how much protocol there was, but it would be worth it to end all of this so you could be together. Apparently he'd been assigned his own compartment which he rarely used when the breakdowns hit, so he'd spent nearly every night sedated in the hospital wing.

Eventually the doctors agreed to let you take a shower, you'd still be sequestered to the hospital wing, but you were grateful for the chance to finally be clean. You could sense that Finnick hated that you would be out of his sight again, like the moment you walked away he would realize this was all a dream he was having that had slipped away under the cover of night. “Do you wanna come with?" You whispered to him as the medic on the other side took the IV out of your arm, “Somebody's gonna have to show me the way there."

“Can I?" He whispered back and hurt you to know that he'd been this hurt over you, that you'd both gone so long without a confession to the other.

You nodded slowly as you pressed a quick kiss on his lips and he smiled, maybe this wasn't a dream after all. Finnick guided you through the drab underground of District 13. It was stuffy, but you were overtaken by giddiness. The Finnick Odair was holding your hand, the Finnick Odair had meant every flirty comment he'd made, Finnick Odair loved you back, Finnick Odair wasn't just a dream you could never have, Finnick was here, Finnick was yours. He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. And the final petal had determined he loved you.

He turned the water on for you and Finnick respectfully turned around so you could undress and get inside of it. Your heart swelled to think he missed you so much he would be content to just sit outside, to feel your presence in the room. The feeling of the water hitting your skin was a relief, to feel the grime being washed away. It was lonely though, to think of him patiently waiting for you, how long he's waited to know you were safe, how long he'd waited for you to confess. “Are you gonna make me be alone in here?” You cringed at the way no matter how quiet your voice was it seemed to echo.

You'd hid behind the curtain, so you didn't have to confront the question. Maybe he didn't want to, but you'd also thought he just wanted to flirt as friends. The curtain swept to the side as he peeked his handsome face in, eyes glued to your face. "Not if you need my help, honey.” You would've sworn the way he said those endearments always made butterflies flutter in your stomach, even if it was something you'd felt guilty about when he initially began using it.

The hot water should have relaxed your muscles, but staring at his perfect, handsome face was making you feel a similar sensation that you despised. Whether he knew it or not, the sound of his voice, the things he'd say, and that smile of his all did unimaginable things to you. Things you'd felt guilty for when the fantasies flashed in your mind. He'd been your friend, so it must've been wrong to imagine him with his hands between your legs. Now though, he wasn't just your friend, and the feeling was back. “Maybe I do." It was embarrassing, but just being by his body would help you or maybe it would make the feeling worse, but you didn't care.

He grinned at you and disappeared for a few seconds before he'd opened the curtain again, slipping into the shower. “What do you need my help with, sweet girl?" Now you'd have to come up with something, you tried not to let your eyes trail over his body, he wasn't looking anywhere but your face. But it was hard when it felt like some tingling part of your body was now controlling your actions.

“Can you help me clean myself off?"

"Of course, honey.” He went to grab the shampoo bottle, eyes never ducking down. Part of you wanted him too though, so that this felt less like a dirty fantasy.

"You can look at me, you know? I won't bite, unless asked, promise.” You tried to sound like it was playful, soft and he laughed.

"Yeah, sorry, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable either." You reassured, “I'm not making you uncomfortable though, am I? If I am-" One of his hands grabbed yours making you pause.

“You're not making me uncomfortable either, you're okay." His sweet smile made you feel more than just like melting, you hoped the wetness pooling between your thighs wouldn't be noticeable in the water. Finnick softly turned you around to wash your hair, he was so particular, taking his time and the feeling of his breath on your neck, clever fingers in your hair. It was so calming, “This okay, honey?" You could only hum in approval as his hands moved so delicately across your scalp. Your brain so easily fell into an easy blissful state as you let his hands move your head with ease. He finished with your hair soon enough and was moving onto washing your body. You shuddered when he carefully pushed your hair off the back of your neck, “You sure you're okay?”

"Yeah.” It comes out more strained than you'd meant it to and you pray he's not put off by it, which he doesn't seem to be as his hands keep trailing downwards. He's soaped and rinsed you off, moving you with so much care that you wish you could absorb each second of it, but you're trying to leave the moment. If you let yourself think about it you're sure you'll give yourself away with the way you'd be responding to his touch. Then it's nearly impossible when he's washing your face, his hands seem like they were perfectly meant to hold your face and suddenly so do his lips when he's kissing you again. Instantly you're pulling him in closer, basically inhaling whatever he gives you. Then you're pausing when his hands start slipping down the small of your back.

Much to your chagrin he pulls away, pausing his hands descent, as he looks at you, “Are you okay with this?" He asks, his eyes speak depths on how much he cares. You nod trying to lean in again, but he leans back, “Need to hear you say it, sweet girl."

"Yes, Finn.” It's barely audible, but he rewards you by kissing you again. Fingers continuing their trail down your back, grazing over nerves that make you shiver. His hands finally land on your hips and you can barely breathe, but you won't let yourself pull away from his lips. They're too addictive and you're too scared you'll wake up to realize you never left the Capitol. And then his hands are slipping lower, your thighs pressing together.

His hands are slowly spreading your legs apart and you let them. Whimpering into his lips when his fingers start tracing over your pussy. His lips pull away and you whine more, even if it gives you a chance to gasp for air. “You're dripping, sweet girl, I haven't even done anything. I bet…” Finnick trails off and you gasp when the tips of two of his fingers are lightly pushing into you. You're instantly clenching around them and he's smirking. “Were you gonna tell me I was making you this dizzy?" You hum out something incoherent when his other fingers start rubbing you. “Seems like someone doesn't know how to use her words, sweet girl, I just have to look at her and understand how needy she is…” He kisses your neck, "Doesn't tell me she feels the same way about me, I have to do it.” Another kiss to another sensitive spot and you gave up on any idea of suppressing the wanton sounds you're making now. He was rubbing you faster now, “Someone's gonna have to teach you to use your words, like a good girl. Not today though."

"Finn-” You moaned out, head tilting back. "Need you, need you so bad. Need you inside me.” You clenched around the tips of his stationary fingers and he thrusted them upwards, the sound you let out was guttural with shock.

“You sure you can take me, sweet girl? Want me to split you open instead of helping you open?" He sounded condescending as he kept moving his fingers inside of you as you whined, before letting out another moan as he slipped a third finger in you.

“Don't care, Finn, don't care if it hurts, need you cock in me. Please, please, please.”

He slipped his fingers out and your eyebrows scrunched together as you whined, he was opening your mouth with his fingers soaked in your juices. “You're my pretty little cock slut aren't you? Gonna let me break you on my cock?" You sucked his fingers in confirmation, licking off your own juices and he smirked. “Did you fantasize about me? Were you not able to tell me how you felt because you were too busy making yourself dumb thinking about my cock?" You nodded, moaning as his other hands began making even more aggressive circles. His hand titled your head up, “If you want my cock, then you're gonna tell me what you thought about when you were fucking yourself stupid."

It was hard to form words when you wanted to do nothing but whine at the pleasure rushing through your body, "You, I thought about how much I wanted you-” Your head fell back when his circles got rougher and then was forcing your head back up, "Wanted you inside of me, touched myself thinking about, oh my god, Finn, please I can't it's too much, wanna cum when you're inside me.”

He was quiet for a second before sighing, “When you beg like that how am I supposed to refuse you anything? Just because my sweet girl just got back to me and must be being so brave, using her words like that. But you're not getting out of it next time, honey." Finnick removed his hand and you let out an involuntary whine.

"Thank you, Finn.” You said breathily as he finally lined himself up with your entrance. “Already so close."

“So needy." He clicked his tongue as he started pushing into you, you clawed into his back. “Jump." You obeyed and he hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his waist. Trying not to hit at his back when caused more of him to push in, but you couldn't stop yourself from the scream you let out when he carefully pushed your back against the shower wall and he bottomed out in you. “So tight, this pussy was made for me, feels so good." He groaned, “Can I move?"

“Please, you're so deep in me, feels so good. Wanna be yours, Finn, want you to do what you want with me." His face planted itself in between your neck and shoulder and you could feel him smiling into your skin.

“You're so sweet, honey." Then he was moving again and you were instantly crying out, “Everyone's gonna find us if you keep this up, know you're mine now." At your insistence he let himself be fast, pound in and out of you as you tightened around him.

Finnick moved a hand up to protect your head as he thrusted recklessly into you. It felt like an eternity of his perfect noises and seeing stars with each movement, you were so grateful that it was your cunt making him groan like that, that he wanted to be inside of you. “Oh my god, Finn, I'm gonna come."

“Good girl, come undone on my cock, sweet girl. Wanna look at your pretty face when you let go for me.” You could've sworn that you'd left the planet when he brought you past the edge. He must have felt it too because your ecstasy doubled when you felt him releasing inside of you, how full you were of him.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, listening to each other's breathing, but nothing had ever felt so perfect. “They're gonna wonder what happened to us." You eventually let out a breathy laugh and he nodded into your shoulder. He tapped your leg and you unhooked them from around his waist. Feet falling onto the cold tiles below.

“Good, I've got to make up for lost time." He kissed your forehead before finally pulling out of you and you hated how empty you felt without him. Finnick pressed his forehead against yours and you watched the steam from the water gather around him, “I should've told you sooner, if you hadn't been okay and here with me again, I don't know if I could've lived with myself knowing you never knew I loved you." And the way he kissed you sealed your fate, you would forever be making up for the times that neither of you confessed to how hopelessly you adored each other and you would relish every moment of it.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading! I'm going to try and get chapter two of the river out before I do the next request, working on scheduling these each out! if you enjoyed it feedback is always appreciated, comments, likes, reblogs, and my asks/requests are open! thank you again and love you all 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x reader smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you

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lmk-aus-galore · 11 months ago

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Needed to make this post because I keep seeing this-

I keep seeing people mistake this scene where Macaque smiles at Wukong during the Specials as a sign that he forgives him.

No, he does not, he’s still trying to trust Wukong again. You can see it in the beach scene. They still bicker slighty after this scene, and during the beach scene, Macaque looks at Wukong briefly believing his words before doubting him again. Or at least still getting a bad feeling.

Macaque and Wukong are far from forgiving each other, they’re still trying to trust each other again. However Season 4 is pretty much a start.

Even though Wukong seems to like forgive Macaque, I’m pretty sure it’s because he just survived a series of self-loathing and guilt, he’s probably not fully recovered.

That being said again.

This doesn’t prove Macaque forgave Wukong yet.

People who see this completely forget the conversation MK was having with Wukong.

Prior to Macaque smiling at him, MK tries to lift Wukong’s spirits up, give him hope like Wukong did for him. Encourage him even. He makes a whole speech about getting Wukong back on his feet and becoming the Monkey King again.

However, Wukong doubts it, so he looks to Macaque.

Again some people forget the whole context of this entire scene and just miss out on crucial details BECAUSE WUKONG ISN’T EVEN ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS HERE.

IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE WITH THE WHOLE ASS CONVERSATION-

Wukong knows that MK is his biggest fan, that MK looks to him with rose-tinted glasses, that to a fault, the kid sees too much good in Wukong, he WANTS to believe Wukong is good, Wukong knows that’s his one flaw about his view of him.

So he doesn’t take the staff immediately after MK encourages him, instead he looks to Macaque.

Why? Because he’s asking him, Macaque KNOWS Wukong. He knows Wukong far too much than probably Wukong himself. Macaque can see his faults, his mistakes, he knows Macaque HATES him. HATES the Monkey King, he’s honest about his doubts, his views on Wukong. Despite Azure’s praise, Macaque sees him for what he is.

Prior to this scene, Wukong was suffering with the curse of the scroll, reliving his mistakes and we know one of his mistakes that is most definitely going to play in his head is the scene where he broke off with Macaque. The scene where he yells at Macaque and seemingly destroys his friendship with him forever.

‘No that’s you! You’re the one always running off! Looking for more power! More sources of immortality! You’re the one who wouldn’t quit while we were ahead! Not the Great Sage! He’s always trying to drag everyone into his mess!’ Macaque was right. It was him that lost his sights on power, on why he was even gaining power in the first place, it was him who tried bigger and bigger until he couldn’t carry the load anymore. He’s the one who was reckless, not Macaque.

And he was right, he dragged Macaque into this. And only hurt him, the brotherhood and MK by dragging them into the mess he created. By letting MK fight his battles, by letting Macaque get injured over and over again just because he wanted him to help regardless of Macaque’s opinion on the matter. He dragged the Brotherhood into this false sense of justice and power that they ended up getting killed or sealed away.

He hurt them. He hurt them as the Monkey King. All he ever did as the Monkey King was hurt people. That’s why he looks to the one guy that can tell him, tell him honestly.

He asks the one guy that hates his guts, that has every right to hate his guts.

If it was alright for him to BE that guy again.

The reckless, egotistical, self-centered Monkey King again. He asks Macaque, who so negatively views Monkey King’s role as a hero if he should BE that hero again.

He asks Macaque if MK is right. This time, This time he’ll listen. Just tell him if it’s okay for him to BE that guy, if he needs to take a step back, he will no questions asked.

Instead.

Macaque smiles at him.

He assures Wukong that he’s okay with it. Yes he can be that guy, flaws and all. He’s willing to give him that chance.

Macaque was giving Wukong not only permission but assurance that Wukong is allowed to be that hero again. The one that everyone adores and loves and the one that people NEED right now.

Only then does Wukong stand and take the staff once more.

Macaque and Wukong still need to trust each other again sure.

But this whole scene is just Wukong at his DEEPEST and LOWEST he’s ever been. The usually loud, cheery and expressive Monkey King was reduced to the unusually quiet, sad and barely even audible Wukong who had been beaten down by his guilt and shame. He can barely look at MK…he can barely raise his voice. And judging by how quiet he was he might’ve been crying until his voice gave out. Paired with Macaque holding grudges yet still reminiscing their good times together. Seeing THAT must’ve been so disturbing for him.

Again, Macaque has this view of Wukong. The same way he notices MK’s despair and loss of light, he notices Wukong’s change in personality. However, unlike MK, there’s a chance Macaque has never SEEN this side of Wukong. He’s always seen Wukong so confident and unbreakable. So much so he doesn’t hold back against him at all. But seeing THIS must’ve done something to him- like scared him, disturbed him.

And now he’s looking at him like that? He’s so low on self-esteem that he looks to the one guy that hates his guts more than anyone else for permission to be that guy again? It probably frightened him more than anyone ever realized.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #monkie kid #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid season 4 #is this a rant?#probably

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

Note

Hiiiiii mae 🥹 I have a prompt if you might be interested? First prompt not-anon, second request total 💃🏻

At work they play the radio and I heard in an interview that humans are born with only 2 natural fears: falling and loud sounds. Those fears are universal and the only things people are born fearing - every other fear is learned!

I couldn’t help but think of sweet Spencer explaining this when placating (or trying to placate) reader who is anxious/has a phobia/is feeling nervous! Hope it inspires something but no pressure xoxoxoxoxo love you long time

Hey babe, thanks for requesting!!

cw: public speaking anxiety, criminal case in court (case details not discussed)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 573 words

You’re cold with sweat and trembling in your fingers when Spencer sits down next to you.

“Hi,” he says. He sounds nearly as nervous as he makes you. His voice, you’ve noticed, is as gentle as his disposition, unchanging regardless of who he’s speaking to. And you’ve heard plenty of Spencer Reid’s voice throughout this case.

You keep your arms stuck tight to your sides, wary of what you suspect to be atrociously large pit stains. “Hi.”

“Do you want some water?”

You take the bottle he holds out to you, not because you do want it but because you’re too nervous to contradict anyone about anything right now. You wonder if that makes you susceptible to suggestion. If so, that will probably not hold up very well in literal court.

If Spencer’s dissatisfied with the tiny sip you take from the water bottle, he doesn’t say so.

“You seem nervous,” he says, somehow both kind and matter-of-fact at once. “Is it because of the defense?”

You shake your head, though that’s not untrue. The defense attorney is only one of the myriad of people you’re going to be expected to speak in front of in a few minutes. Your heart is a squirrel in your chest, scampering wildly

“I don’t really like public speaking,” you say.

Spencer nods pensively. He’s good at this, at making you feel like he’s really absorbing what you have to say. You’ve wondered on occasion if it’s part of his training.

“You know, it’s interesting,” he says. “There are actually only two natural fears that humans are born with; falling and loud sounds. Everything else is learned, we pick it up somewhere.” Spencer sets his elbows on his legs, slouching so he can see your face. He’s so handsome it’s unbearable. “Where do you think your fear of public speaking came from?”

It has the makings of a personal question, but Spencer’s curiosity seems so pure it’s hard to hold it against him.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “It’s just always made me nervous.”

Spencer’s mouth purses. “It might have been so early or subtle that you don’t remember. For a lot of people it comes from feeling like they’re going to be judged.”

Your lip finds its way between your teeth without your permission, and when you look over Spencer’s gaze is knowing.

“Everyone is here to judge the accused,” he says gently, “not you. You’re important as a witness, and we’re lucky to have you here, but no one is going to care if you mess up. Their job is to pay attention to what you say, not how you say it. All you have to do is tell the truth.”

“Yeah.” You try to breathe in, but the air won’t settle in your lungs. “Yeah, okay.”

“There shouldn’t be any loud sounds or falling in there,” Spencer goes on. If he wasn’t such a professional, you’d almost think he was joking with you. “So nothing’s going to hurt you. You’ll be okay, okay?”

You glance at him again, and the profiler’s lips are curved in a small smile. You don’t know how he can do it, stay so good when he spends his whole day knee-deep in the minds of bad guys. But despite what he does for a living and all he’s certainly been through because of it, there’s a lightness about Spencer. It feels like peace.

“Yeah,” you say again. “Thanks.”

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hopefulfuturenovelauthor · 2 years ago

Note

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

Hi, sorry for taking so long, but I am very grateful for your patience!

Here you go...

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

I would like to state that I’m assuming you meant Martian Manhunter and not Miss Martian, but in the case that I am wrong and you meant Miss Martian let me know and I’ll add her to this or write a super-long essay of your guy’s relationship or something!

As always please do not copy my work in any way, shape, or form. Thanks!

Warnings: none i think... not spell checked...

Bruce Wayne

Dating Bruce Wayne? Gotham’s favorite Billionaire and the Batman? Wow, good luck.

There is a lot of angsty shit in your relationship. Keep in mind it’s not like you guys have like crazy issues or anything, not to say that the Joker isn’t a crazy issue, but I mean that you don’t actually fight with each other a lot.

You disagree quite a bit considering you watch him on monitors and he goes out and actually gets hurt, but all of that frustration and worry comes from a place of care.

However, you didn’t talk to him for days when he decided to let Dick join him in the field. You were beyond upset, especially since you knew the dangers of crime-fighting yourself, seeing as you used to be a vigilante.

Regardless of that, it was Dick that convinced you to cut Bruce some slack. Eventually, you came to agree with the teenager, but only after you kicked Bruce where the sun doesn’t shine.

On a nicer note, definitely lots of gifts coming from his end even though he is called the dark knight.

Even when you were both playing hero and he didn’t know who you were under the mask he gave you little gadgets. You two had also met outside of hero-ing and in your real lives where he constantly graced you with the treat of coffee and/or donuts.

He likes to get you nice treats and sweets. He knows you don’t care for expensive gifts, especially since you work for a lot of nonprofits.

As for PDA on a scale, I will give you a 7.5/10. A solid 2.5 for physical affection such as hand holding, forehead kisses, whispering in each other's ears, and being a little too close to each other but not so close that you freak out everyone else around you.

As for that leftover 5 on the scale, holy shit do you guys never shut up. The constant flirting is where most of this score comes from. Saying embarrassing and inappropriate shit anywhere and everywhere is common with you. You tease each other relentlessly and enjoy seeing the other squirm. It can be quite uncomfortable for others around you, but you tend to keep the more spicy comments quieter, which leads to all of your odd whisperings.

You sort of live with him…? You guys are most often at his place, but you did decide to keep your own just because you wanted something that you paid for and could afford unlike his gigantic fucking manor.

Bruce cares for you deeply and understands why you want to keep your independence and have at least something of your own, especially considering that you guys work together often.

You are close with all of his family, including each kid he adopts, takes in, or has under his proverbial wing. In fact, you kind of think they prefer you over him, or at the very least Jason definitely does.

It might also be common sense now that Alfred also likes you more than Bruce because, in your guys' relationship, you have all of the brain cells and are logical.

You both can be impulsive and rude. You both can come across as very blunt and private people. You work well together despite everything.

You were very glad in the end that you both found someone so supportive and understanding.

You both were also glad that you had the guts to kiss him because, honestly, he was never going to make the first move without it being an epic disaster.

Dick Grayson

Yay! Okay, this guy and you wow. May I just say couple goals here. Like yes, wonderful, perfect together.

Will you go off on someone for hurting his feelings? Count on it. Whether it is physically fighting or verbally berating someone, you also support everyone’s favorite Blue Bird.

Cute nicknames? Yes, as I stated previously, Blue-Bird, you know because he had been Robin and then he became Nightwing, and Nightwing’s suit is black and blue. Also, his eyes are blue and they look so pretty you could stare at them all day. Also, often used but none as creative as Blue-Bird, sweetheart, darling, cutey, and love.

His pet names for you, are Darling, beautiful, sweetie, bundle of too much adorableness, most wonderful human being to ever exist, my reason for getting out of bed every morning, and love. It is obviously a wonderful mixture of names, and yes, sometimes you do worry about him.

I mean how could you not, you were there since he became Robin, you comforted him through every phase, from being a rebellious teen by denouncing Bruce, becoming Nightwing, forming his own group of heroes, and making the obvious mistake of wearing tights as a part of his costume (that one was particularly hard for you).

I will now rate your PDA, congrats you have received a 6/10. You guys like to give small face kisses (forehead, top of the head, cheek, nose, temple, etc.), you guys give each other small pecks on occasion, and always say ‘I love you’ when one of you has to leave. You hold each other's hands a lot. You guys are very sweet and very wholesome. The only time you aren’t is when you get reunited after a long time (2+ weeks) or a life-threatening thing happens (which is pretty often, I’m not going to lie).

When you reunite do you share that time slowed down and you are running to each other with the wind in your hair moment before frantically grasping one another to share a passionate kiss.

Sometimes he will tickle you and pick you up just to spin with you. This happens quite a lot and the two of you often have tickle fights.

You get along with his family, but you have no trouble standing up to them for him. You will fist fight with Jason and tell Tim to ‘shut up and go to sleep’. If Damian starts talking crap you won’t physically hit the child, but you will steal away his pets with treats, which annoys him because food > him.

You will scream at Bruce if necessary. Dick and his adoptive siblings will have to physically pick you up to get you away from the situation.

You guys never fight, except when you eat the last of each other’s ice cream.

Jeez, you two are so cute together.

Jason Todd

You met early on but got together a few years after his death.

He used to annoy the shit out of you, but the events involving the Joker led you both in the same direction.

You both have a better understanding of each other than anyone else. You are field partners and the only real anti-heroes of Gotham.

You were quick to share an apartment once you both learned each other’s civilian names.

It is easier than you both expected to fall into a rhythm, which only made it easier to go from something platonic to something romantically domestic.

You never seemed to get in each other's way and could somehow calm the other down when the world became a little too quiet or loud. You both rarely slept in the separate beds you had brought and maneuvered into the one bedroom. In fact, neither of you really slept on a bed.

Most nights you stayed up as late as you could and either returned home and passed out on the couch or watched tv till 3 am, cuddling, and passed out on the couch.

You guys are a little different than others. PDA is more of healthy ways to deal with trauma mixed with a little codependency (but nothing terrible, sometimes shit just gets hard for you both and you have some really off days). Hand holding, back rubs, hugs, and playing with each other's hair and hands are just ways to calm each other.

But back to PDA. Yes. 9/10. You will both totally make out in front of other people spontaneously without a care in the world. He tends to initiate it, but you certainly never have an issue with it.

After all of the shit you two have been through you don’t really care about other people’s comfort around you because you feel safe with each other and are each other's security blankets.

Pet names are definitely common. It is probably the most annoying thing he does when you work together fighting crime. You always hated how he was so arrogant and acted childish when he was Robin. Now he just calls you pet names and flirts ceaselessly with you while you fight together. He will call you sweetheart, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, love, my love, love of my life, and more when you are in the field. He calls you them outside of your night shift too, but that does not annoy you at all.

You tend to use many of the back, if not all of them, because he means just as much to you.

He always makes the most adorable face when you cradle his head and call him beautiful. Like this is the softest he will ever be with someone else and he just looks so small and cute and in need of a hug.

If he annoys you, expect gifts in the form of food and drinks. If you annoy him, expect to give him extra hugs and books.

Yes, you read together, cuddling. Typically different books, but he acts as your personal heater and you love it.

Coffee shop dates, take-out-stay-in dates, and video game dates are to be expected. Also, pastries on top of buildings in the middle of the night are a great pastime.

Also, one last thing, just to mention, you are the only one allowed to use or even touch his guns.

Martian Manhunter

Telepathically communicating, yayyyyyyyy! Okay maybe too soon with that one. But really, expect to be snorting in a silent room as everyone looks at you like you're crazy except for him because he’s smiling fondly at your reaction.

You two are very sweet together. You help the Justice League with PR stuff, so you talk with the group of heroes all the time.

You often work with the big names and more controversial people in the League, but you work with everyone when you need to.

Also, J’onn can fly so expect to be carried in his arms all the time. He won’t even think about it twice because why would he take you somewhere in a car when he can literally swoop you off your feet bridal style and fly off as you look up at him in complete adoration.

For the moment you’ve all been waiting for, PDA rating. I would say 3/10 in public and 6/10 in private. By that I mean outside world public and the justice hall, mount olympus, etc. as private. In your guy’s place he’s just a cuddle bug or a second cat because yes he bought you a cat for one of your anniversaries.

He cooks you dinner. You join him often, but like he loves to cook you dinner. You think it is really sweet, but he also loves to learn different earthly activities. That and M’gann sends him recipes she thinks you’ll like (and you always love them).

You once made him chocolate cake by the way and now he has a new favorite thing. He loves it and didn’t stop talking about it for months.

He likes to hold your hands a lot. Sometimes when one of you is stressed the other reaches out in hopes of grounding them before they overthink. It’s very sweet and you both love the gesture.

You sort of also took M’gann under your wing when she first arrived and it melted yours and J’onn’s hearts when she first called you her aunt/uncle. At this point you're like the mom of the YJ and the go to friend for the league. It’s all very sweet but sometimes J’onn feels like the League is hogging you and ‘has to’ drag you away from everyone quite literally, which goes a little something like this:

“Oh, but J’onn, I was having a lovely conversation with Bruce.” “Oh, I’m very sorry, Y/n, but we really have to go,” as he starts to pull you out of the room. ��Alright, sorry Bruce we can talk, more some other time?” Once you both make it out of the room you release a breath, “Dinner?” “Yes.” “Great because I’m hungry and Bruce was gnawing my ear off.” After that you both just laugh.

Dinner goes great by the way and you share chocolate cake at the end before going home to cuddle with your cat and watch baking and cooking shows.

Wally West

Just to get it out there, you show your guys affection through food and physical touch

You make Wally whatever you can cook and make a lot of it for his boosted metabolism. You also order extra pizza for him.

He tries to bake you your favorite desserts but sometimes lacks the patience and other times he eats half of it.

He typically just always buys you your favorite snacks and desserts. Even then he always ‘sneaks’ a bite.

Your PDA is surprisingly low, but as he matures it definitely increases. Like Dick had told you all those years ago it took a while to get used to Wally eating.

I would rate you a 2/10 at the beginning of your relationship and an 8/10 when at your best. (basically Young Justice S1 Wally compared to S2)

You are always touching each other. I don’t mean in an inappropriate way, but considering it is Wally that isn’t unheard of, just not often done in public.

On top of that, he will carry you everywhere, superspeed, normal speed it does not matter. Hand holding always, hugging always. He just wants physical contact. And piggy backs.

But like also, his pickup lines. I repeat his pickup lines. They are so cheesy and corny and you find them endearing somehow. I mean I do too, he is a sweetheart so yeah.

He treats you so well too. Your well-being matters so much to him and if you need something, he will be there in like 3 seconds regardless of where he is.

Nicknames should be expected: whatever you do, whatever you like he finds a way to make it a nickname. He does use babe a lot, but it feels a little basic so he comes up with new one's all the time. Sometimes they stick and other times you choke on air, but the scientific method says that you will fail and retry so it doesn’t phase him.

For the record though, he is Wally so a lot of his nicknames are food based: honey, cupcake, sugar cube, sweet potato, and more.

If you nerd out with him he will never, I repeat, never let you go.

Also if you wear his merch he will be all over you. Depending on the situation and the place it might get a little spicy, but in most cases he will wrap his arms around your middle and just hold you tightly as he falls back into a chair or couch or something. He will not let you go and will nuzzle his face into your neck for hours. For someone that is so fast and gets bored so easily, he will never want any of this to end.

Clark Kent

Yeah, you know. You knew. You were well aware of who he was. One single pair of glasses did not fool you. I mean, you didn’t say anything until like the seventh date, but you knew.

Yay, lucky you are normal, in fact, you do not play hero in your free time, but you do have some abilities.

You blame the particle accelerator explosion that occurred in your last home for your abilities. But they were easy to hide and really helped with your job.

You are a psychologist/part-time therapist. You met Clark through an interview you did about the effects of the most recent attack in Metropolis on the citizens' mental health. You had to fight for this article to even exist, but you did so because you could feel the fear that radiated throughout it.

You did everything you could to provide as much help and information as you could on the topic. Clark had been the photographer for the interview and you both immediately hit it off.

He asked you out to dinner when you stopped by his office to discuss doing another article. Clark said that to celebrate the occasion he could take you out if you wanted.

You said yes because free dinner was nice and he seemed like a good guy, so you thought why the heck not?

Of course, the date went well and you highly enjoyed his company. He asked you out again and said yes.

On your third date, he had to leave early for whatever reason, and then a minute later Superman flew by and started to stop a robbery a block away. Interested, you got as close as you could and were very shocked when you saw Superman’s face.

You didn’t mention it, but he had the same aura with the slightest bit of guilt that you thought was likely toward leaving you mid-date.

Once he knew you knew he eased up a lot and told you all about his past and Krypton and his powers and his hero-ing.

You guys have great communication, which is in part due to your empathic abilities. You can always tell when something bothers him and he is more than willing to talk through whatever troubles him. You do the same understanding that you both thrive off of honesty with each other.

Conversation always comes easy.

Some activities you like to do together are going out for dinner, movie nights, baking, picnic dates, and annoying Bruce Wayne.

Your PDA scale would be like a 4/10 at most. You are very sweet with each other, but sometimes you both find it odd being extra coupley with others around you. Since Clark has super hearing he can tell when people are uncomfortable and since you have your empath abilities you can feel it too. Other people’s moods also affect yours in general so the more people there are the more overwhelmed you feel so you try to avoid anything more than a quick peck on the cheek.

However, it is still very obvious you two are together because you spend a lot of time with each other and go to lunch together basically every day.

Around the Justice League, you can be a little more open with your affections but you both still prefer privacy.

Nicknames: yes. There are some of the basics: darling, dear, love, etc. Clark particularly likes calling you my dear and you enjoy calling him sweetheart. Sometimes you joke around when he enters a room and you say, “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s my boyfriend, Clark Kent.”

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