#I should go write but I’ve slept for 2 hours and my arm is killing me 🥹 eek I’ll hang out with you all for just a tiny bit longer

[ghosts-cyphera]

I FEEL LIKE A RABID DOG WHILE READING THE PORNSTAR!GHOST SERIES!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

LMAO exactly the reaction I was hoping to coax out of you all 💕

#lo answers #I love seeing your reactions to it #I should go write but I’ve slept for 2 hours and my arm is killing me 🥹 eek I’ll hang out with you all for just a tiny bit longer

[starryeyedrookie]

Before It’s Too Late (Ethan x MC)

Book: Set during book 2 ch. 11.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Evelyn Long)

Word count: 1,996

Rating: General

Category: Angst

Summary: An attack scene rewrite when Ethan spends the night with MC.

A/N: Characters and some dialogue owned by Pizelberry.

I finally decided how I was going to write this rewrite. Initially I was trying to do a full chapter rewrite but half way through, I was already at 3k+ words so it would be waaaay to long. Thankfully, I managed to summarize it but also give it a ton of angst. (This was my first time writing angst btw.) I hope you enjoy!

8:30 pm

It's been exactly five hours since the attack. Five excruciatingly long hours since Evelyn’s world was turned upside down.

Travis, Senator Ed’s assistant, had slowly been poisoning him with lead. When they went to confront him, he pulled out a can and sprayed everyone in the room with a deadly unknown substance.

The Senator managed to escape and Travis was dead. But so was Bobby, with Danny fighting for his life.

Evelyn begins to cry again as she thinks about Bobby’s wife and two kids that he left behind. They would now have to grow up without their dad. He would miss so many big milestones in their lives all because of two selfish people.

“E-Evelyn…?” a weak voice calls from across the room.

She walks over to the bed where Raf is lying down, a light sheen of sweat covering his pale face.

The team had come a little while ago with a shot that they had hoped would slow the progression of their symptoms, but Raf’s still seemed to be getting worse.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, gently wiping the tears from her face.

“I was just… thinking about Bobby’s family and… everything that he… would miss. He was… just telling me… this morning that… his oldest daughter is turning sixteen this year…”

“I know… life isn’t fair. They didn’t deserve any of this.”

“You didn’t either, Raf.”

“But I saved you from having to suffer so much… and that’s what matters.”

“Raf…”

“Shh… listen, I feel… like I’m… getting worse. Will you… do me a favour?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

“Please help me call my vovo.”

Evelyn hands Raf his phone to unlock, then scrolls through his contacts until she sees his grandmother’s name, tapping it, she places the phone to his ear.

“Olá, vovo.”

“No… I’m not well. There was an attack at the hospital today and the Senator’s assistant tried to kill him. A few people were in the room when it happened. The Senator escaped, but his assistant and one person that works here died and the other is in critical condition. Evelyn and I are in quarantine right now.”

“I just wanted to let you know… that if I… don’t make it… I love you with all my heart.”

“Alright, take care. I love you too.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.” he takes a shaky breath, his heart rate slowing and growing more shallow.

“Evelyn… I think you should… call the team… I'm sorry I couldn't save you… that this… might be the way it ends…” he murmurs, eyes meeting hers, as warm and kind as the day they met.

Taking his hand, she can barely see him through her tears.

“You'll make it through this Raf… I know you will…”

He smiles up at her before his eyes flutter closed and his hand falls away.

Moments later Ethan and June rush into the room.

“I’d hoped that the treatment would buy us more time,” Ethan says sadly.

“We don’t know that it didn’t.” Evelyn tries reassuring him.

He nods as June’s eyes fill with sympathy.

“We’ll get him to the support suite. There’s still a chance that we could fix this Evelyn.” June tells her, as she prepares Rafael for transport.

Evelyn’s almost too scared to ask, but she needs to know. “How’s Danny?”

“We… we lost him.” Ethan’s voice comes out in a whisper.

“No…”

“Before he died he… he asked to be autopsied. To help the two of you.”

As Ethan turns to help June, Evelyn reports Raf’s most recent symptom of hot cold reversal.

“Stay strong, Evelyn. We’ll know more soon.” June tells her reassuringly as she and Ethan slowly push Raf out of the room.

Now she’s all alone, curled up on her bed, the pressure in her head becoming almost too much to bear.

Her mind drifts to Danny. She remembers her first day when he was the one that told her that she had just performed a thoracotomy with Ethan Ramsey. The night of the party her roommates had when he and Sienna talked all night until they fell asleep together on the couch.

Sienna. All Evelyn wanted to do was rush to her side and hold her. She and Danny were supposed to be together. They were meant for each other. But how he was gone, and Sienna would have to live with that loss. She probably never even got to say goodbye.

Goodbye. Evelyn had to be prepared.

Picking up her phone, she sees that she has several missed calls and messages.

Calling her mom, she picks up immediately.

“Evelyn sweetie! Are you okay?! Oh my goodness, we saw what happened on the news and I thought we lost you!”

Hearing her mom’s voice, her tears start falling again.

“I’m hanging in there right now mom. It’s just me in the room now. Rafael just got taken to the support suite.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

“Mom… is everyone there?”

“Yes, honey. We’re all here.”

“Can you put me on speaker please?”

“Hey Evey.” she hears her dad’s voice say.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi Evelyn, do they know what it is yet?

“Hi Ben, no they don’t. We got a shot earlier that was supposed to slow the progression of the symptoms, but we don’t have a cure yet.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, guys… if I don’t make it…”

“No Evelyn! You can’t say that!” her heart breaks as she hears Ben crying through the phone.

“Wait… just listen to me. I’m preparing for the worst. I want you guys to know… that I love you all so much. And I want to thank you for everything that you’ve done to help me fulfill my dreams.”

Aside from the sound of soft cries, the line is silent.

Finally, her dad speaks up.

“We love you too sweetie. Stay strong and hang in there. You’ll be fine.”

“I’ll try… take care.”

“Bye.”

Later, her friends and the diagnostics team are gathered outside her window. Bryce looks at her with haunted eyes while a crying Sienna buries her face in Jackie’s shoulder.

“How’s Kyra? The surgery must be over by now…”

“She’s fine and resting. We haven’t told her what happened yet.”

“Good idea.”

“So, do you know what it is yet?”

Ethan explains to her that it’s a maitotoxin that he had never seen before. It was still present in Danny’s bony postmortem and on the surface of his skin.

Processing the information, the realization hits Evelyn like a ton of bricks.

“Maitotoxin… that’s derived from parasites in fish, isn’t it? But… there’s no antidote so… I’m going to die here…” her voice now barely a whisper. “I can’t believe this. Today was supposed to be happy. Kyra was supposed to have a successful surgery and everything was supposed to be fine… but now Danny’s dead, Raf is in a coma, and I’m… I’m…” Evelyn buries her face in her hands as she begins to cry.

“Now isn’t the time to give up hope Evelyn. Because of Raf’s actions, you didn’t get much in your system so your symptoms aren’t as advanced. There may not be an antidote as yet, but I promise you that we’ll be working round-the-clock to synthesize one.” Ethan tries to sound as confident as he can, his heart breaking to see Evelyn hurting.

“You won’t be alone.”

Everyone turns around to see that the statement had come from Tobias, as he, and several Mass Kenmore doctors approached them, all prepared to do whatever it takes.

As everyone heads down to the lab, Ethan lingers behind at the window.

“Are you okay, Ethan?”

“No, Evelyn, I’m not okay. But you don’t need to hear about that. You should try and get some rest. Have you slept at all?”

“No. I can’t stop thinking about Rafael. How long he can last… whether… whether it’s already…”

“…Do you want me to stay for a while?”

“Yes, please. If this is my last night alive, I want to spend it with you.”

“If I was in your position, I’d feel the same way about you.”

“Really?”

“Really, Evelyn.”

Suiting up and entering the room, he gently guides her to the bed.

“Now lie down. I know it sounds impossible, but I need you to relax and try to think about something happy.”

As she lies down, Ethan gently pulls up the covers around her.

“Something happy like what it would be like if we went on a date?”

“If that’s what makes you happy then sure.”

Her happiness leaves as quickly as it came.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel like there are so many things that I should have done.”

“Like what?”

“I should have loved more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent the last decade focusing on college, med school, work, always guarding my heart because I might be in another city the next year. It makes me wonder… what could have been,” she confesses sadly.

Ethan is quiet for a long moment.

“Since we’re sharing regrets, do you mind if I share one of mine?”

“Go ahead.”

Reaching across, Ethan’s gloved hand finds hers.

“I wish I hadn’t asked you to stay away.”

“You do?” she asks surprised.

“We’ve wasted so much time. I’ve wasted so much time. I should have held you in my arms every day and told you how much I… how much I love you.”

“Ethan?”

“Shh… I just needed you to know… that no matter what happens… I love and care about you more than I can ever tell you.”

“I love you too, Ethan.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I thought you knew that already.”

“I did. It’s just so wonderful to hear you say it.”

“I wish I could kiss you.”

“Soon. You will soon.”

Joining her on the bed, he wraps his bulky arms around her as eyes begin to flutter closed.

“Evelyn? Can you please look at me?”

“Hmm?”

Forcing her eyes open, she looks at him through his helmet.

“Promise me that you’ll keep fighting. That you won’t give up. Oh, Evelyn… our story’s only just begun and it can’t end here. Please… please promise me.”

“…I… promise,” she whispers before falling asleep.

The next morning she wakes up to excruciating pain in her stomach. Doubling over, Ethan reaches across from the chair for her.

“It’s okay Evelyn, you’ll be alright!”

Feeling weaker than ever, she can barely make out the blurry figures running to her window.

“Evelyn! We did it!” Aurora shouts.

“Huh?”

Baz and June enter the room with the antidote as Tobias explains how they did it.

“What about Raf? He’s much sicker than I am…”

“We administered it to him, but too far there’s been no chance. It’s possible we’re already too late.” Sienna gloomily reveals.

“But he hasn’t gotten any worse, that has to mean something!” Elijah adds.

As Ethan gently injects the serum into her vein, he whispers into her ear.

“Hang in there, Evelyn.”

Over the next several anxious hours, June comes regularly to take her blood.

Slowly, her blood pressure stabilizes and the nausea begins to fade.

As Evelyn looks around, she realizes that the room no longer looks blurry.

“Get up.”

She turns around to see a hazmat suit free Ethan stroll into the room with a big smile on his face.

“You mean…”

“It worked. There’s no trace of toxin left in your bloodstream. Even if there are still traces in the room, we know now that we can-”

“Oh!”

Evelyn flies into Ethan's arms pulling him into a tight hug.

“…What you’re saying is I’m finally free to do this?”

“Yes. This too.”

He leans down capturing her lips in a passionate kiss as tears fall down both of their faces.

“Ethan, aren’t you worried that someone will see?”

“No. After almost losing you, I’ve decided that there are more important things to worry about than what people will think. I love you with all my heart, Evelyn Long.”

Through her tears, she smiles up at him.

“I love you too, Ethan.”

{Two Weeks Later}

Taglist: @mercury84choices @a-crepusculo @emmasumbrella @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @mm2305 @adiehardfan @schnitzelbutterfingers

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

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#playchoices #open heart #oph book club #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x evelyn #oph fic #open heart fanfic #choices fic writers creations

[love-and-monsters]

Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

#exophilia #fae #faerie #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #Fae lover

[ansksosns]

Sealed Fates

This blog has no followers b u t this is my secret writing blog, where I have not posted any works....until now. 

Simps, I present to you; Tobirama Senju. 

Part 2 can be found here!

Word count: 3023

You burst through his office doors, not bothering to knock or give any announcement of your arrival to his household despite the late hour. You knew he wasn’t asleep; the man only slept when exhaustion won the battle against his mind and body.

Surely enough, there he sat at his oak desk, gracing you with a rare display of surprise upon his face.

“Tobirama Senju.” You growl, gritting your teeth.

He quickly collects himself, his surprised expression disappearing as though it was never there. He now looks tired—How many days has it been since he truly slept?

“I do not recall inviting you into my home.” He says pointedly, as his eyes fall back on to the papers in front of him. He begins scribbling on them, probably updating notes on the newest jutsu he’d created.

His lack of urgency towards you only makes you more annoyed; you thought the two of you were finally getting somewhere, after Tobirama saved your life from the clutches of death a mere month ago. You quickly learned that you were wrong, as he became more reclusive than ever following your discharge from the hospital.

You had every intention on broaching this topic with him in a professional manner, even going so far as to schedule a meeting with him—a meeting, with the man you served as some sort of assistant for a better part of your career as a shinobi.

All formalities went out the window when you quickly caught a glimpse of a very specific marking on the small of your back; one you knew quite well, but had no recollection of getting.

“How long have you had the seal on me?” You bark, taking one step closer to his desk.

He stops scribbling for a moment, considering your words carefully.

You don’t give him a chance to defend himself. “At what point did you decide to brand me with your jutsu?”

You take another step closer to him, and slam your hands down on the desk to get his undivided attention. You won’t let him get away with this without some sort of consequence; he may be above you in the world of shinobi, but he was not above you as a human being. It is time he was reminded of that.

Tobirama gives you a low sigh and then sets his quill aside. He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together in his lap. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, silently telling you to tread carefully as you speak. You ignore his warning, and more forward with your wrath.

“I have given you more than adequate work; I’ve dedicated my entire life to yours and Hashirama’s dream for this village. I have fought beside you, and for you without ever asking for anything in return.”

You notice your arms have begun to shake, so you grip the edge of the desk to stop yourself. Tobirama’s eyes have not left yours since he looked up at you, and you find yourself suddenly wishing he would look away. His stare is penetrating; making you feel as though he sees right into your very being.

Despite this, you continue with your rant. “Using this seal to spy on me, whenever, wherever you want—that is your payment to my loyalty, my blood, sweat, and tears?”

Your voice is bordering on shrill as you speak. Tears threaten to spill over your eyes, and you curse yourself for such a display of weakness in front of Tobirama.

“I have forgiven you for many, many, unspeakable things, Tobirama, but this crosses the line.”

He scoffs at you, while giving you a heated glare.

“You think I would place the Hiraishin seal on you with malicious intent?” He asks in disbelief.

His voice is lower than usual, cloaked in anger, as though he is offended by the accusations you are making against him.

You give him a humourless chuckle, “You would do anything if it meant furthering your goals.” You spit back at him.

You can feel the pressure of your chakra rising in the air around you, as you find yourself getting more and more upset with the man in front of you, and for once you think you will get the better of this stubborn man. Of course, he is one always one step ahead of you—his significantly more powerful chakra is threatening to squash yours as soon as the words are leaving your mouth.

Though you know it is a losing battle, you do not back down.

“I will not be insulted in my own home.” He states.

You’ve never seen him this angry before; not even with Madara. You have seen a lot of Tobirama over the years—one would argue that, aside from Hashirama, you know the younger Senju brother better than anyone. This anger you are seeing is entirely new to you though, and if it was not for the rage that burned within your soul, you might have even felt bad for invoking it.

“I will not be disrespected—not by you, or anyone else.” You reply, leaning into his personal space.

You have known Tobirama for too long; you know how to play to his weakness’. The pressure from your chakra, though significantly weaker than his, mixed with a newfound rage, and your close proximity, should be more than his sensory skills can handle at the moment. It would throw him off, and that is what you need right now to get a win.

“I will not tolerate being berated by an insolent girl, on a subject she knows nothing of.”

He surprises you by moving himself forward, sharing a space with you without a second thought. You are eye to eye now, his piercing gaze striking through you that much more. Your chakra’s shove against each other, battling for dominance.

You wonder why he doesn’t just end it; he is more than capable of doing so. Why drag it out for longer than necessary, especially when it is causing this much anger inside of him?

“This is my body, Tobirama!” You snap. “You do not get a say in this, no matter your excuse!”

Your proximity does not bother him, and it annoys you greatly. Even when you have the confidence to be this close to him; to challenge him—he is throwing you through another loop. When will you ever win with him?

You grit your teeth, breathing slightly heavier than you would normally. You continue to hold his gaze, though you feel like it is killing you from the inside out to keep doing so. You can’t back down from him this time; Tobirama has long ruled over your heart and mind far too easily. Now was a better time than any to prove to yourself that you can no longer be easily swayed by the younger Senju brother.

Tobirama narrows his eyes at you, lifting himself from his chair, pushing you out of his space with the sheer force and pressure of his chakra. You stumble backwards a bit, your stance falters for a moment as you are in awe of the raw power he possesses. You do not see it often, as he makes sure his power is stored away for only those who deserve it.

For a moment, you think you have gone too far.

You quickly regain your composure, and use your chakra to force his right back at him. His lips twitch upwards slightly, like a smirk was threatening to pull at the corners of them.

Was he...enjoying this?

It is gone as quickly as it appeared. You convince yourself that you imagined it.

“That seal saved your life.” Tobirama argues. He rounds the desk quickly, leaving you with no time to move with him before he has you trapped against the desk, facing him.

He leaves enough room for you to escape, if you feel the need to but you know you won’t. You are aware of what he is doing—forcing your hand to make you submit to him in this argument. He’d done it time and time again, though never with malice. Tobirama has spent his life being in command, never one to give up the control unless absolutely necessary. He understands that the presence of his chakra is intimidating, and he often uses that to his advantage. Clearly though, he has yet to realize that the threat of his chakra doesn’t work on you anymore.

“I don’t care.” You respond, your grasp on the desk behind you causing your knuckles to turn white. “I’ll never be able to remove it. I’m tethered to you for the rest of my life.”

You don’t mean for your words to sound so delicate, as though they were a confession of your soul. It doesn’t particularly bother you, because you have no intent on leaving his side any time soon, but your poor choice of words change the nature of the argument to an area you did not prepare yourself for.

Tobirama’s chakra stutters before the pressure of it dies off completely. Your own chakra is now powerful against him, causing it to forcibly push him away from you.

He is no longer glaring at you, but staring at you with eyes wide, and a slack jaw.

Perhaps your words affect him more than you can comprehend.

You retract your looming chakra, and step towards him, but he takes one step back for each foot you move forward. He is quick to hide his emotions again, replacing the softness he held in his eyes for you with a drawn out and irritated sigh. With closed eyes, he turns away from you.

You watch in complete disbelief. Tobirama Senju has just backed down from you; he submitted, and in turn, admitted to his defeat. You did not expect this from him.

You open your mouth to speak, but the lax of his shoulders stops you.

“I thought of it as a means to protect you.” Tobirama says gently. There is no trace of anger, or annoyance in his tone anymore.

You feel your resolve crumble at his tone, and your heartbeat doubles in the confines of your ribcage.

You hate this.

You hate how he renders you like this so easily.

His hands ball into fists at his sides as he lets his words hang in the air, allowing you the time to process them.

“You do not need to protect me, Tobirama; You have so much more to take care of in the village. You should have complete faith in my abilities as a shinobi to take care of myself.”

He scoffs loudly at your words, and shakes his head from side to side but he refuses to look at you.

You want to question him—make him tell you out right that he doubts your skills and has no faith in you at all; that your stint in the hospital and him saving your life were all the signs he needed to change his mind about you.

But seeing him this way leaves you with no other choice other than waiting it out.

Minutes pass as you both stand there in silence. Tobirama is seemingly struggling to find the words he has been looking for, and you are just waiting for him to speak them. You decided that one way or another, the two of you would settle whatever this is before either of you leave the room.

You only hope it won’t end with him saying all the things you can’t bear to hear; such as how useless you are, or how much he doesn’t need you anymore.

If that is what it came to though, so be it. If it meant sorting this out, you would take his words with your head held high.

You rest your hips against the desk, folding your arms over your chest.

“Tobi,” You say gently, to serve as a reminder that you were still here with him. You know, of course, that he can’t forget that; he is especially strong with his sensory skills—almost always aware of everything around him without meaning to be.

He turns to you and your breath catches in your throat. He looks utterly defeated and exhausted. His hard, pensive gaze turned in for a much softer one and lips parted slightly. The tension in his forehead usually caused by having his brows knitted together in concentration is gone, and it makes him look much younger.

Tobirama was either always dressed in his armour, or kimonos since they had established the village; it helped maintain an almost royal like status to the clans who joined the founding of Konoha.

But he is just a man—still so young. War often aged people much further along than they really are; something you often forgot.

You find yourself then wishing, if only for just a moment, that you can take it all back. You wish you were easier on Tobirama, and gave him more of the support he needs without question.

But you knew, as Madara once said, Tobirama Senju will always listen to you. Though you would never take credit for the accomplishments he succeeds in, you are aware that you have an influence on decisions he makes from time to time. The two of you are a team, always; even in your stubbornness and anger, you worked together like it was second nature to you both.

Damn him for doing this to you. Damn him all to hell.

“I have lost almost everyone I have ever loved.”

He says it slowly and carefully as though he is not sure if the words will scare you away.

He takes one step closer to you, and stops as though he is unsure of what to do. Words bubble in your throat, but no matter how much you will them from yourself, they do not come out.

“I refuse to lose you, too.”

The words are spoken so quietly, but they ring loud and clear in your mind. The doubling of your heartbeat from earlier now tripled as his voice echoes off the walls of your brain. It’s just like him to confess such a thing behind a wall of pride, but the fact that he said it at all meant that he is serious.

Your balance on the desk gives out, and you quickly slam your hands into it to catch yourself from falling completely. Tobirama steps closer to you, his eyes searching your entire self, up and down. The words are caught on your tongue; a lump forming at the base of your throat prevents you from breathing.

Tobirama’s voice fills the silence. “Putting the seal on you without your knowledge was wrong, I will admit that much.”

He sounds stronger now, more determined than you have ever heard him before.

He takes one more step closer to you. Your knees grow weak.

“But it was the easiest decision I have ever made. I will continue to stand by that decision until my very last breath, even if it means you hate me for it.”

Those words manage to snap her out of her dream like state. Does he think getting rid of you will be so easy? It is just like him to do something like this—damn him. This all could have been avoided if the two of you had just told each other sooner.

You lean forward, slowly raising your hand to the side of his face. You give him ample time and room to inch away from your contact if he wants to, but he does not move. You cradle his cheek in your palm, fingers hooking behind his ear, thumb gingerly brushing against his cheek bone.

It is to your surprise that he leans in to your touch, and closes his eyes. Your heart pulls in your chest.

“I could never hate you, Tobi.” You say softly.

This is the truth; no matter how idiotic he is, the harder he pushes you away, giving you the Hiraishin seal—you could never hate Tobirama Senju.

“I am tethered to you for the rest of my life,” You repeat. In a moment of boldness, you grab one of his hands and slowly drag it to settle on the seal that is placed on the small of your back. You hear his breath catch.

“—By something much stronger than this seal.”

You love him, more than he will ever truly know.

You ghost your lips over his, waiting for the moment he will push you away, but it never comes. His grasp on you only tightens as he pulls you flush against him, capturing your lips in his.

He is soft, at first; gentle with you as he engulfs your body in his arms. The palm you had on his cheek slides down to his neck, lazily clinging to the ends of his hair.

You both pull away, only leaving a breath of space between the two of you. Your eyes meet briefly, before he is on you again, kissing you harder than before, with a certain finality burning through. You only return the kiss with as much passion, scared that Tobirama will be gone the moment you stop.

You pull him closer; he grabs you by your hips with a bruising force, walking you backwards into the desk before lifting you with ease to sit upon the edge of it. He kisses you harder than the other times, rutting himself between your legs.

It is all lips, teeth and tongue with the two of you; low and heady sighs escaping your mouth when he pulls away from you, leaving trails of kisses and bites down the side of your neck. Gasps leave you and you encircle your legs around him, securing him to you. Hands tugging at his hair, causing salacious groans to seep through his tentative mouth.

You say his name sinfully, and before you can register his firm grasp on you, he is lifting you up off the desk, and moving you from the office, to his bed room.

#senju tobirama x you #Tobirama Senju x reader #Tobirama Senju #senju tobirama #reader insert #Angst #implied smut #Naruto #Naruto fanfiction #second hokage #naruto shippuden #angst with happy ending #nidaime hokage #fanfic #im editing the tags to say Wow!!! thanks for all the love guys!!! #another edit to the tags that no one will see but sorry for editing issues? i write this in 3rd person w a unnamed female character #there is a part where i use 'her' twice #will edit it when on my pc and not mobile!!! #oh and then i change 'her' to 'you' haaaaaa

[sjmsstuff]

Light and Dark

Chapter 3

A/N: back at it again, this time with a slightly shorter chapter, I’ve been swamped with work, don’t hate me x. Small bit of angst but like not loads.

Warnings: major warning for sexual abuse if you want to skip it just stop reading at <~> and start when you see it again, just know Gwyn had a nightmare.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6,

Gwyn was entirely sure she was an idiot.

A fool, an imbecile, an utter buffoon.

She could hardly look at Az all morning at training and then she could hardly think of anything but him as she worked in the library.

Nesta came down an hour after they parted at training, looking flushed and happy.

It was astonishing the difference between who she was when she first arrived and the female who stood before her now. Happiness radiated from Nesta when it used to disapate in her presence. Her slender frame was no longer thin and skinny but toned and full. Her eyes looked less weary and the bags had disappeared.

The two friends chatted as Nesta completed her duties for Clotho and Gwyn scampered through the jobs Merril had given her.

Thankfully the cranky priestess was cloistered in her office for the evening, meaning Gwyn could talk without needing to look over her shoulder every few minutes, like a guilty man waiting to be apprehended.

Merril was still researching the idea of multiple worlds layering on top of each other. To be completely honest Gwyn had no idea what she was on about half the time but nodding and scurrying hadn’t failed her yet.

She left Nesta hours later to return to the dreaded office with an assortment of copied and highlighted texts that Merril had requested, each organised and double checked to avoid any scenes.

Though Gwyn had thoroughly enjoyed the first clash of her friend and her superior, she was not especially eager for a rematch. Clotho may be upset if one of the cleverest priestesses could no longer write.

Or breathe.

Merril was sitting with her back to the door when Gwyn entered, so she quietly deposited the books on a small table. Merril waved her off without looking up and Gwyn took that to mean she was dismissed.

Dinner was a dismal affair. She was close with a few of the other girls but shared nothing like the connection she, Nesta, and Emerie lived for. Probably because she hadn’t killed and nearly died for her fellow priestesses.

They were missing out.

Gwyn returned to her dormitory that night, resolutely not thinking about hazel eyes, soft mouths or slender, scarred fingers.

Instead she drifted off to sleep, humming a quiet melody.

<~>

Hands grabbed her waist, her heart. Someone was screaming, it sounded like her sister but she wasn’t sure.

She wasn’t even sure how she could hear anything over the pounding heartbeat in her ears.

How could Gwyn have a heartbeat when she was dead? Maybe she wasn’t dead yet, maybe she was just dying. It would be over soon.

Men laughed around her. Bile crept up her throat.

Her skirts were around her waist.

Cold wood bit into the back of her bare thighs.

Her thighs were forced open. There was a speck of soot on the ceiling.

Someone should probably clean that off.

She thrashed but it was no use when her wrists were locked. They felt trapped in stone.

Stone that smelled of death and stone that dug it’s nails into her wrists, biting like the teeth of a hound.

His sweat dripped down onto her face. It felt too similar to blood. The children’s blood, Catrin’s blood.

He robbed that special occasion from her. She wanted it to be important, it was supposed to be important, that moment in a woman’s life and it was stolen.

He was finished.

More lined up.

She stopped thrashing. She couldn’t move.

Broken.

Another unbuckled his belt.

A slash of red, then glowing blue siphons and-

<~>

Gwyn woke with a gasp.

She was out of bed and tugging on a dressing gown before she could even think about what she was doing.

Out of the dormitories and up into the library. It was quiet, fae lights burned low and sleep hung heavy in the silence.

It was probably hours away from dawn.

Up the stairs and there, a door. She swung it open and Nesta stood before her.

“Gwyn? What are you-“ Nesta looked concerned, Gwyn probably looked a state.

Cassian stood behind his mate, blade in hand, scanning the hall.

Nesta reached for her but she jerked out of reach, she needed-

“Gwyn?”

A smooth, deep voice. She almost collapsed in relief.

Instead she turned towards the warrior standing at the foot of the stairs.

Gwyn fell against his chest before she realised she had moved. Strong hand wrapped around her, then quickly withdrew. Soft shadows encased her instead. Singing soft words of comfort and they soothed her.

Azriels chest rumbled as he spoke to Nesta and Cassian. Then he attempted to guide her up the stairs but she clung to him.

He was the only solid thing in the raging sea and she wasn’t going to let go of her lifeline.

Instead Azriels strong arms wrapped around her legs and waist and she was softly carried into a room that smelled like home. ***

Gwyn woke hours later as dawn filtered through large windows that covered one wall. She was curled in an armchair, a softly moving pillow rising and falling beneath her head.

A pillow that smelled a lot like Azriel.

She shifted slightly in his lap to look up at his sleeping face. Dark eyelashes that shadowed high cheekbones, fluttered slightly. Gwyn shifted some more, readying to get up, but strong arms wrapped around her, tucking her in close, burying his head in her hair.

She sat there, comfortable in Azriels arms for minutes or hours until the sun rose fully, bringing with it the realisation of where she was, and what had brought her to this comforting embrace.

Embarrassment shifted her weight again, waking Azriel fully. His arms loosened, hazel eyes filling with concern, no doubt from the memories of the night before.

Gwyn rose fully, “Thank- Thank you for that,” she gestured vaguely to the chair they had been tucked in on, “But it really wasn’t necessary for you to sleep with me in your arms, your neck probably hurts and you would’ve been more comfortable in your own bed, not that I’d want to be in your bed,” Gods what was she saying? “It’s just that you probably would’ve been-“

“Gwyn.” Az still lay prone in the armchair, wearing loose bottoms and a thin sleeping shirt. Gods he was pretty in the early sunlight.

“Ye- Yes?”

“It’s alright,” He smiled softly, “I’ve slept in worse conditions and you didn’t really want me to let you go.”

Mother, could she get any more red?

“And, well,” he coughed slightly, “it didn’t really seem proper to bring you to my bed.”

Yep, she definitely could get more red.

“Oh, well, em, thank- thank you, again” she was making it worse.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No. Yes? No, she wasn’t ready to relive that experience before breakfast. She had only told two people what happened. Nesta and Emerie. Azriel knew because he was there but she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“No, I’m fine.”

His expression was unreadable, but he rose, “Come, let’s eat breakfast. Cass and Nesta might join us, if they can separate for long enough.” ***

Nesta and her mate were indeed sitting next to each other at the table when Gwyn entered.

Nesta smiled kindly at her and Cassian winked in greeting before returning to the conversation with his mate. Gwyn took in the easy nature with which they chatted, Nesta occasionally leaning back to laugh at something Cassian said, the way Cassian’s eyes seemed to flare with pride every time.

She glanced over at Azriel who sat across the table from her and realised he had been watching her.

She resisted the temptation to look down, instead keeping his gaze and smiling back when he smirked at her.

Gwyn realised belatedly that Nesta had said something to her.

“What?”

Her friend’s eyes flickered between Gwyn and Azriel, “I said ‘you and I need to get Emerie and go to Velaris’. Rhys kindly agreed to winnow us and he’ll be here in about an hour.”

Gwyn’s brows furrowed, “Why are we going to Velaris?”

Gwyn had been to the city of starlight only a few times, but enjoyed each excursion immensely.

Nesta smirked, “We’re going dress shopping for Starfall.”

Chapter 4

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list for this fic or my writing in general

Tag list: @bookstantrash @perseusannabeth @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @princessofmerchants @princessofmerchants-reads @azrielsshadowsdanceforgwyn @illyrian-valkyrie @lovelywordsandwine @thron3ofbooks @velaaaris @gwynkyrie @acourtofmidnightsnacks @simpforfictionalmenandwomen @bittermuire @mirubyai @velvetrays

#sjmsstuff writes #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel #light and dark #light and dark ch 3 #acosf spoiler #acosf

[reidgraygubler]

week from hell (spencer reid/reader)

Title: week from hell

Request: yes! (Can I get a oneshot based off of Something I Need by OneRepublic? I really really love your writing and I'd love to see your take on that idea.) (requested by @probablynotaninja​ ) 

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: angst, w/ sweet fluff for dessert

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, mentions of dying, swearing (if any), insomnia, very protective spencer, very realistic dreams/nightmares (which consist of loved ones dying), anxieties, talks about dying/death, vague referance to suicide (?), vague mention of drugs (Dilaudid), drinking, turning to alcohol in a time of need, knife and murder (but it’s not real) Word Count: 3,835

Summary: Spencer has one hell of a week after he has nightmares about the ones he loves the most, and after a close call on a case.

A/N: okay, no joke, i hadn’t heard this song before this request. So i listened to it and the first like i was like “IDEA!”. It made me very soft. So thank you very much for sending it to me. I hope you enjoy what I came up with! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

It was amazing how breathtakingly fast I moved. I sat up, my body shaking like a leaf, yet was somehow sweating like I had run a mile. But all I did was sleep. And while I slept, I had a nightmare. A nightmare that consisted of all my loved ones being killed.

I looked down at the person sleeping beside me. They were curled up into my side, an arm thrown over my body like I was their comfort teddy bear. They slept like a rock like there was nothing wrong happening. When in reality, I was sitting beside them, having an anxiety attack because of a dream I had.

I glanced over my shoulder at the clock. Two in the morning. I hadn’t even been asleep for 2 full hours, and I have to wake up in 4 hours to get ready for the day. Who knows if I’ll go back to sleep? Probably not… It’d be one of those days where I needed a lot of coffee.

I carefully slipped out of the bed, pulling the blankets back over their body. They hardly stirred as they switched their positions. A small, yet sad, smile grew over my lips as I looked at them. I was envious of the way they were able to get comfortable and stay asleep. They slept through the whole night, and would probably sleep till their alarm went off at 9am.

I struggled as I quietly dragged my body from our room and across the apartment to the kitchen. My person’s cat was sitting on the window sill, his tail whipping back and forth as I walked past him.

“Morning, Snuffles,” I whispered once I was past them. Snuffles leapt off the window sill and followed me towards the kitchen. “You gotta be quiet… Our person is still sleeping.” I looked down at him once we were behind the closed door of the kitchen.

‘Mew,’ Snuffles meowed as he pawed at his food bowl. I looked at the silver bowl that still had food in it. The food was just pushed around the sides, leaving the middle of the bowl exposed. I blinked before grabbing a scoop of food for him.

“Now be quiet,” I chuckled lightly before scratching between his ears. Snuffles meowed again before walking past me and going to the food.

I quietly prepared things to make a pot of coffee. This would just be the pre-pot of coffee before I stopped at the cafe down the street for more coffee. Surely that won’t be dangerous in the end. It’s not like I’ve been doing this everyday for the last 15 years. My person would argue that this would probably be what brings me my demise.

Once the pot had finished brewing, and I prepared my mug with the coffee, I resigned to the living room. To keep myself busy for the next few hours, I read over case files that Emily needed help catching up on. It was no issue, I should be finished with it before it was time to get ready for the day.

I was surprised that the person in the next room stayed asleep. In my head, and ears, I thought I was being loud. But I suppose that was just me. Their health always worried me, even when they were perfectly healthy. Something was bothering me now though, and it was the stupid dream I had that woke me.

The five ‘o’ clock hour rolled around a lot quicker than I was expecting. Sure time always moves by slowly and properly and in the right order. But there was something about the last 3 hours that flew by fast. It was hard to say what it was though.

I finished reading over the last file before I got ready for the day. My person hardly stirred, again, as I pressed my lips to their forehead, wishing them a good morning and a day. They were lucid enough to return the sentiment, with the declaration of ‘I wish you didn’t have to go to work.’

Trust me… I know. I wish I didn’t have to go to work either

My venture to work was the same, as usual. I walked down the street to my favorite cafe, got my coffee- today, however, was different because I got more than my normal one coffee- and walked to the closest train station.

When I got to the office, I slowly walked towards my desk. Everyone was at their respective spots, easily telling me I was the last one to show up. Which was a rarity because I was usually one of the first to appear.

“Could you use a bit more coffee there, Reid?” Luke asked, watching as I set a carrier with 4 coffee cups on my desk. I looked over at him before picking one up.

“There is not enough coffee in the world that could help me with my problem.” I looked at my coffee with a deep sigh. Luke looked at me with a slightly worried crease in his brow.

“Is everything alright at home?” he asked as he looked down at the picture of me and my partner. My eyes followed his gaze and I smiled when I saw the photo.

That particular photo was taken at David’s house during a dinner party. I remember that day so clearly. Before the photo was taken, I was deep in conversation with Derek and Luke. My person was standing just behind me, their arms wrapped around my body as they listened into the conversation. It was Penelope who snapped the moment in time, calling our attention before briefly blinding us. It was one of my favorite photographs.

“Are you guys alright?” Luke quickly asked. I didn’t like how it felt like he was insinuating that something was happening between me and my person at home. Nothing was wrong between us. In fact, things couldn’t be more perfect. And they didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me. Actually, it wasn’t even me. It was my subconscious torturing me.

“Yeah, yeah…” I spoke before taking a long sip of one of my many coffees. My tone wasn’t very convincing, and I only knew that because of Luke. He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “What? Everything at home is fine. I haven’t been sleeping. That’s all.” I shrugged before putting the paper cup back on the desktop.

“Have you talked to-” he stopped for a moment before nodding at the picture of my person on my desk. I looked over at it and shook my head. I didn’t want to worry them at all. Not with the torturous things I’ve been forced to see. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I sat down. I ran a hand through my messy hair and shook my head. “They’re hyper-realistic too. Sometimes I don’t know whether they’re a dream or… Or the real thing,” I sighed as I tapped my fingertips on the desktop.

“Have you talked to anyone about it? Emily, Rossi, Derek…” Luke’s voice trailed off as he said my partner’s name. I looked up at him and shook my head.

“No, no. They’ll go away. They always do.” I shook my head as I looked back up at him. I thought back to when I first started this job, the nightmares were horrific. Derek Morgan was the first person I talked to, which led to Aaron Hotchner talking to me. It was for the better, to be honest. But then it got better when I met my person.

The nightmares are only happening because of the most recent case. Maybe I should talk to Emily… Maybe it’s time I took a break. That’d probably be what’s best for my mental health. I was due for a break anyway.

“How often have you been getting them? And is this a new thing?” “Uh… That one case, from a few weeks back... That was when they started. But only recently have they gotten worse… Including…” My words trailed off as I grabbed the frame.

“Do your dreams follow the case? Or are they different every night?” Luke leaned against my desk and looked down at me. I took a deep breath as I looked at the person’s picture in my hands.

“It depends, I suppose. Some nights they’ll follow the case… Other nights it’s a different case… Sometimes it’s,” I lifted the picture, ''instead of Nadie that I killed.” I struggled to get that last one out.

Even though I know I didn’t kill Nadie Ramos. But I guess my mind likes to make me think otherwise. The images of my person’s body lying on the ground, blood (their blood) splashed across their face, and the life no longer in their eyes flashed in my mind, nearly causing me to drop the frame. I just nearly caught myself as the frame hit the side of my desk.

“You should talk to Emily about that. Even if you think they’ll go away. There might be an under-lying issue there,” Luke’s voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke. I swallowed roughly and looked up at him.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll do that.”

I didn’t do that.

Little did I know that’d be the beginning of my week from hell.

{***}{***}{***}

My eyelids felt heavy. I struggled to keep them open while Emily delivered the briefing. So I pretended to be reading the file on the table in front of me, when in actuality I had fallen asleep.

Sleep and I had become strangers. I couldn't remember the last time I got a good night’s rest. That was because the dreams had moved on from the team, leaving them alone and allowing them all to live. My dreams graduated to my partner. Every night for the last 4 nights I’ve jerked awake, with the image of them dead ingrained in my head. And whenever I closed my eyes, their lifeless eyes looked back at me.

So instead of sleeping, I sat in bed, reading while also looking at the sleeping person beside me. I needed to make sure they were actually just asleep.

“Wheels up in 20… You’re all excused. Uh, but, Spencer, a word,” Emily spoke as she looked right at me. I jumped before looking back at her.

“Yeah, yeah,” I whispered before folding the file shut and sitting up in my chair. The other members of the team filed out of the room. JJ and Luke both looked at me with worry in their eyes before leaving. JJ figured out something was wrong 3 days after Luke and I talked. Her concern was genuine and to be expected.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Emily asked as she sat beside me at the round table. I swallowed roughly as my eyes met her. It would be useless to try and lie to her about this. Emily and I have known each other long enough that even if she wasn’t one of the best profilers I know, she’d know when I’d be lying. But it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

“Yeah, yeah… We’re moving… So we’re staying up late pack-”

“Spencer, I know you’re not moving,” Emily cut me off. I stared at her as I brought my hand to rest on the table top. A certain anxiety grew in my chest and it felt difficult to breathe. I don’t know why I was having such bad anxiety about this. People have nightmares. It’s not unusual. “Is everything at home okay? You guys aren’t fighting, are you?”

I don’t know why everyone just assumed that there was something wrong at home, or why my person and I were fighting.

“No! No, we’re fine. We’re more than fine. In fact it’s not even us that’s the problem. It’s me,” I sighed before pushing a hand through my hair. Emily looked at me with a raised brow and worry on her face.

“Is everything okay?”

“We went on a case a few weeks back. And it’s triggered some bad memories for me,” I half lied. Although, there was a little bit of truth to my words. The dreams about Nadie Ramos bring up some bad thoughts.

“Such as?”

“Uh, well… It’s not just memories. The nightmares I’m having are what’s keeping me awake. Sometimes they’re about the team… But most of the time they’re about…” My words trailed off again.

“I see,” Emily whispered. Her eyes dropped down to my hand, causing me to look at it. My hand was trembling as if it were a small chihuahua, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“The ones that I get the most are from the day Nadie Ramos died… But it’s not Nadie…” I looked up at her face as I spoke. Emily looked at me and nodded. “I know I didn’t kill her. But it doesn’t help that I saw myself kill her.”

“Spencer,”

“Listen, everything you’re about to say, I’ve heard it from Hotch, Gideon, Derek, and even Luke. I know. They’re just nightmares. They’ll go away. I just need to… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to take some time off?” Emily had a certain steadiness to her words that frightened me a little bit. As if I had a choice. She was only asking to make me think I had a choice, but in the end I did not.

Maybe a break was what I needed. I could spend time with my person and not think about work. We could go on a small trip to New York, and get Penelope to watch Snuffles. My person would probably enjoy that.

“I think I’d quite like that,” I whispered with a nod. Emily swallowed roughly before resting a hand on my knee.

“We can work that out. That’s okay.” She nodded.

{***}{***}{***}

Everything was moving in slow motion. My vision was fuzzy as I hastily reached for a knife. The person below me wouldn’t stop fighting me, even though I was holding their body down.

“Spencer! Spencer, stop!” their shouts had no effect on me as I lifted the knife above my head. My eyes twisted shut as I slammed the knife down into their chest. It didn’t kill them instantly like I had hoped.

They lifted up their hand and grabbed my wrist, causing me to look down at their face with pure frustration. Blood was dripping from their lips, and I could see life slowly slipping from their eyes. Their grip on my wrist was slowly slipping.

“Stop this! Stop!” Their voice was weak. It was useless for them to fight, they should just give up.

When their hand fell from my wrist, allowing me to drop the knife back into their chest. This time their fight was gone, all they were doing was saying my name.

“Spencer?” A voice came from behind me. My body jerked awake, the book in my hand falling to the ground and the blanket around me slipping to the couch. Did I really fall asleep on the couch?

My question was quickly answered when my eyes caught a small glass half-filled with an amber liquid and the bottle to the amber liquid beside it. It was hard to say just how much I had... But I can easily say I think I drank too much. It was an unfortunate temporary crutch, and vice, I entrusted too much in a time like this. It was better than an older vice I could turn to. But I’m better than that now.

I swallowed roughly before looking over my shoulder, finding my person standing in the doorway of our room. A blanket was wrapped around their body. And they stared at me, the exhaustion in their eyes was mildly concerning. It was probably my fault too. In fact, it was my fault.

“What’s… Why are you out here?” They asked as they stepped closer to me. I looked up at them, watching as they moved closer to the couch.

“I, uh… I couldn’t sleep. So I came out here to read,” I replied as I looked down at the book on the ground. The cover of ‘The Narrative of John Smith’ mocked me from its place on the ground. It didn’t belong on the ground, it should be on the shelf or the coffee table.

“It looked like you were asleep to me,” my person laughed as they sat beside me. I looked away from the book and back towards them. “Did something at work?”

“You could say that,” I whispered with a shrug. My gaze dropped from their face and to their hands. The response I gave wasn’t a total lie. I mean, work does play a part in my nightmares. But there’s more to that.

“Do… Do you want to talk about it?” they asked, finally moving their hands from their blanket and out to hold mine. I sighed deeply as I kept my eyes on their hands. They anxiously pulled and twisted their fingers as they awaited my answer. It was my fault that they were anxious.

“I had this dream a couple of nights ago…” I stared, my voice was low. I wrecked my mind, trying to find the words that I wanted to say and the order I wanted to say them in. “A couple nights is an… understatement.”

“Little bit longer?”

“Yeah, they’ve been happening for the last few weeks. Just this week they started getting bad.” I pressed a hand to my face, rubbing my eyes. “It was so bad. I actually scared myself awake. I can’t remember the last time I had a dream that bad… And that’s really saying something.” I dropped my hand to my lap and looked back at my person.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to remember.” They shook their head. I smiled as my eyes landed back on their face. “What was it about?” they asked. My smile fell away as I remembered the dream.

“Well, it was… a lot of them are about the team… And they keep dying because of me. And then more of them are about you… And it was you instead of Nadie.” My voice shook as I spoke. Tears burned down my cheeks and it was so hard to stay grounded.

“Spence,” they spoke, reaching out a hand and resting it on my knee. That’s what helped keep me here...

“And the ones with you are always the worst. The first time it happened, I woke up at two in the morning and stayed awake, watching you sleep... Because I was scared… I swear to God I was going to lose my mind,” I whispered. My person looked at me with worry and fear in their eyes. I sighed again and shook my head. “Then I had the worst week of my life. At first, you didn’t notice. But you always know.”

“Well when you’re with someone for long enough, you begin to pick up on their sudden mood changes and when they’re not sleeping in the same bed as you,” they laughed at me. I smiled and shook my head. Even though it was a dark moment, they knew I needed the laugh.

“You know me so well it was my turn to laugh. I squeezed their hand before bringing it to my lips, carefully pressing my lips to their knuckles. They smiled back at me before holding both my hands with theirs.

“Well just call me your… Safety net…” They smiled before moving closer to me.

“Yeah… Safety net… Always there to catch me when I fall… Or always there to talk me off the ledge.” I whispered that last part. They looked up at me with concern in their eyes. I swallowed roughly, not ready to have the conversation about that last comment.

“We’re getting really off-topic,” they laughed after a moment of silence. I was glad they didn’t want to talk about that last part now. It was more a ‘for later’ conversation.

Their laughter made me safe. Safer in that moment than I have in the last week, month even. That’s funny, isn’t it? That a person’s laugh could make me feel safe? I wonder if they knew that too. It was something I needed too. Something to make me feel safe. And it was another person’s laugh.

“Well off-topic in a way that’s still on topic,” I began rambling. They smiled and shrugged, silently telling me I was right. “I’ve been…” My words trailed off as I looked back at the coffee table and the glass of whiskey. I could still taste the bitterness of it on my tongue as I stared at the glass. “I’ve been drinking… Just to clear my mind of the dreams,” I sighed again, “I’m just afraid, I guess.” I looked up at them.

“That’s okay. I trust you enough to know when to stop.” They blinked at me in such an innocent way. Trust. They trusted me. And I’m having dreams about killing them… But they still trust me. “Maybe there’s a meaning behind your dreams.”

“You know I’m not one for dream analysis,” I breathed out a laugh. They looked at me with a raised eyebrow and small smile before shaking their head.

“Maybe… If I keep dying in your dreams… it could be because you want to die with me. I know I want to die with you,” they nervously laughed as they looked down at our hands. “If I’m only going to die once, I want to die with you.” They smiled softly.

“It’s just… It’s killing me watching it happen over and over behind my eyelids, and it feels like there’s nothing I can do. What if I can’t keep you safe? I’m afraid of… What’s this all for? It’ll end up being nothing in the end.” Not keeping my person safe was one of my biggest fears. So watching them die over, and over, and over again is actually killing me.

“Oh, Honey,” they whispered, “you don’t have anything to be afraid of… I’ll be safe if I’ve got you. And you’ll be safe if you’ve got me. You got that, Chump?” they asked as they softly shoved my shoulder. I laughed lightly before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah I got that,” I whispered as I looked up at them with a small smile.

"You wanna go lay down?" They asked, looking at me with tired eyes. I smiled as I stared at their face. "I'll let you be the little spoon."

“You really know how to bargain,” I laughed, watching as they stood up. Their hand was stretched out to me, waiting for me to take it into mine. “Little spoon…” I smiled at them before resting my hand into theirs. They returned the smile as they pulled me to my feet. “I think you have me sold.”

“I better have you sold. You know I love being the little spoon,” they muttered as they dragged me back to our bedroom.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

[yandere-ac]

Can you write a little bit Mondo x Girly! Reader?

Yandere Mondo Owada X Girly Reader

Promise

⚠️ Spoilers for chapter 2 ⚠️

Ever since Mondo was little he’d have one thing drilled into his brain. When a man makes a promise, he has to keep it, even if it kills him. That is what his brother Daiya had taught him and that was something he was never going to forget. And he never did, no matter how difficult it could get he never ever broke any of the promises he made. So when it finally happened, the shame hit him hard.

He had remembered his utter confusion when he first woke up at hopes peak academy. He had rested on a desk in some classroom all by himself, which only confused him more. Why was he here? He was just walking into the school and now he was sleeping on a desk? Had he just...slept through a lesson or something? As he gazed around the room he saw a big clock hanging above the big blackboard. Nope, he couldn’t have slept through any lesson. There was still 15 minutes left before the school started. So why was he here? Never mind, he had to get to the entrance.

Walking out of the classroom he felt a sudden shiver up his spine as dread crept up his back. He didn’t know why, but something about this place was freaking him out. But he hadn’t had any time to process this new uneasiness as he heard the faint sounds of footsteps running towards him. Immediately he tensed up and got ready to defend himself in case anything happened. But he hadn’t gotten any time to process this new threat as something, or rather, someone ran into him. They had turned a corner in the hallway and didn’t seem to see him before it was too late. As they crashed into him they fell backwards and landed on the floor. Mondo was pushed back slightly by the crash but unlike the person before him, he didn’t fall. It only took him a few seconds before he regained his posture. Letting out a grunt he turned to the person still on the floor.

"HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING DUMBASS!" He could now see the other person more clearly. They wore a puffy white blouse which they tucked into a pink skirt. They had pastel pink knee high socks that reached their thighs and they had a small bow in their hair. They were rubbing their head as they groaned slightly. After a couple of seconds they looked at him and their face immediately turned from dazed to panicked. "Oh my god I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to run into you like that!" They apologised to him profusely as they put their hands together, still on the floor. Mondo rolled his eyes and extended his hand to them. "Quit fussing. I’m not gonna hit you or anything. Just get up." Their face turned slightly pink as they realised they had been rambling. "Oh, yes of course." As they grabbed his hand Mondo could feel something in his chest for a split second. But he quickly brushed it off as he pulled them up off the ground. As soon as they stood up, they let go of his hand and brushed off their skirt. And that for some reason made Mondo a little bit irritated, but he didn’t understand why.

"Well, since first impressions are out the window," the person began as they smiled at Mondo. "Hi! My name is Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you!" As you introduced yourself to him you gave him a little bow. Mondo had eyed you up and down. You looked to be about his age, but you seemed nothing like him at all. You were like the personification of the colour pink, cute, polite, feminine. It wasn’t his style at all. And yet, something about you, it intrigued him. "Names Mondo Owada." He stated bluntly while putting his hands in his pockets. "So I’m guessing you’re a student here. What class do you belong to?" You gave him a slight smirk while you asked this. Something about it seemed almost endearing to Mondo. "Yeah, Class 78th. I was just heading to the entrance ceremony." This made you perk up. "Oh? Me too! I was just going there actually. That’s why I was running before. Sorry about that again." You flashed him a smile as the two of you continued. So you were his classmate huh? He didn’t know if that was good or bad. You sure seemed to like chatting, that’s for sure.

And that’s what you two did on your walk to the entrance. During said walk he learned that you were the ultimate makeup artist. And it really showed, you’re face was full of makeup. And Mondo would be lying if he said that it didn’t look good. But he would never admit something like that out loud. Still, you had given him a compliment about his makeup, the eyeliner he wore specially. Which made him kinda happy, it was good to know he was doing it right. But sooner or later, you came to the entrance. The two of you weren’t the first ones to arrive. There were about 8 other students there, standing around and waiting for something to happen. But what was weird about said entrance was that the door had been replaced by a giant vault door. Suspicion was rising in Mondo as everyone started talking to you both.

The way you two met was...less than optimal. But you hadn’t let it get in your way at all. You hung out with Mondo a lot. You kept reaching out to him, which he appreciated. You made him feel strong. From little things like grabbing his arm whenever you felt uneasy or uncomfortable to telling him you felt safe with him. He felt good around you. Like he was actually as strong as you beloved him to be. But the one thing that you ever did that made him feel good was after the Sayaka trial.

He remembered it clear as day. It was nighttime, a couple of hours after the first ever class trial. And it had hit him hard. That Sayaka was dead, that she had tried to kill Leon and blame it on Makoto, that Leon had been executed in such a horrible and gruesome manner. It fucked him up. He sat up in bed, just staring at the floor while he rested his head in his palms. Sayaka had always seemed so nice, so sweet. She and Makoto very obviously had a thing going on. So to know that someone like her would blame it all on him in order to escape, it made him question who he could trust. Sayaka had been the first to attempt something like this, now that you had gone over the line of comfort anyone could be next. He couldn’t die now, not after years of maintaining the Crazy Diamonds. He couldn’t fail Daiya! He couldn’t-

Knock knock

Someone had knocked on his door. No, he was not answering that. He wasn’t gonna become a victim like Sayaka and Leon. But the knocking continued, and continued, and continued, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He walked up to his door, and opened it slightly. Through the small crack in the door he could see it was you. And you saw him. You’re eyes were glossy and your nose was red. "Could you let me in? I’m not armed I promise." Mondo hesitated for a few seconds, should he? He knew you. You would never hurt someone, let alone him. But...he thought the same about Sayaka. Mondo looked at you once again. You were hugging your sides and wiping your tears off your cheeks. You didn’t have any makeup on, which was unusual for you. But most of all, you just looked so small. You were pretty much cowering together as you waited for him to open the door. You couldn’t be here to kill him. He refused to believe it and mentally cursed himself out for even thinking about the possibility. With a swift move, he opened the door and let you inside. You thanked him as you walked into his dorm.

"Are you okay?" That was the first thing he asked you after he closed the door. You sat down on his bed, clutching your hands together as your eyes fastened to the floor. You didn’t give him an answer, you just stared at the floor, just like he was a couple of minutes ago. After a couple of seconds of silence, Mondo sat down next to you. He let out a sigh and used his hand to stroke your back. "Hey it’s okay, or well- it’s not okay right now but uh..." Damn it. He wasn’t very good at this was he? "Hey, look at me." He cupped the side of your face in his hand as he turned it towards him. "It’s gonna be okay, I promise. This shit sucks, it’s fucking insane. But you’re going to be okay." You let out a sniffle and a sob as he stroked your cheek. "But how can you say that? Two of our classmates are dead! How can I, how can any of us be safe when two of us has died!" You cried out, and as your voice cracked under pressure Mondo could feel his heart break. "...Y/N, do you wanna know the one thing that my brother made sure to teach me? When a man makes a promise, he has to keep it, even if it kills him." Mondo told you, now letting go of your face and grabbing your hands. "It’s something I’ve always told myself, every single time I ever make a promise, I think of that. And I have never in my life broken a promise. So when I tell you this I want you to listen. You’re going to be okay. You’re gonna survive this shit, no matter what. I promise you will Y/N. Do you wanna know why?" You looked at him as you let out another sob. "Why?"

"Because you have me."

You spent that night with Mondo. The two of you keeping each other company and keeping each other calm. That night Mondo not only made a promise to you, but to himself. He had to protect you. It didn’t matter if he thought he could or couldn’t, he had to. He wasn’t gonna loose someone like you.

And for the most part, he was able to keep that promise. There hadn’t been any other deaths until then and Mondo was happy about that. What he was also happy about was that you and Taka got along well. After all, it would be a little awkward if his best friend didn’t get along with his...partner? Friend? He didn’t know. You two hadn’t made anything official or put any labels on your relationship but it was obvious that it wasn’t strictly platonic. You and him have shared a bed multiple times, much to Takas dismay. But it didn’t matter, because you and Taka got along. He wasn’t sure why, but Taka was the only guy that he felt comfortable with you being around. But anytime you hung out with any of the other guys he felt this burning sensation in his chest. He didn’t blame you or anything, he knew you weren’t gonna get with one of them, but it still felt bad. Like they were trying to take you away from him. He wasn’t so sure about the girls since he didn’t know if you were into that, but you were into him, which meant you were into boys. He hadn’t told you about this, he knew that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do. So he just kept all his feelings inside of him. Which also wasn’t a smart thing to do. He already struggled with a lot of self worth issues, so mixing in the paranoia about the other guys only made it worse. What if one of them convinced you to leave Mondo? And what if you realised that he wasn’t as strong and tough as he made himself out to be? What if you left him? He couldn’t loose you. Not now. Not ever.

But strangely, you didn’t spend much time with a lot of the guys. You mostly spent time with the girls. Him and Taka were the only guys you seemed to hang out with most of the time, but most of the time, it was with the girls. The one you spent most of your time with was none other than Chihiro Fujisaki, the ultimate programmer. You and her talked a lot, which at first annoyed Mondo slightly. An annoyance which you noticed pretty quickly. So when you asked him about it and he answered, you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Which only made him madder. With a quick peck on the cheek, you explained to Mondo that you and Chihiro were like best friends. "Don’t worry Mondo. Chihiro is like my Taka." Chihiro was like your Taka. Once you had put it like that Mondo felt better. He started to wonder why he was even worried in the first place.

But then came the accident.

It had been a rough evening for Mondo. Monokuma had given all of you new motives in order to get you all to kill. This time it was embarrassing or scandalous secrets. If a murder didn’t happen within the next 24 hours he was gonna reveal them all to the outside world. He had wished his motive was just one of the embarrassing things he had done when he was little. But no. His secret was the murder of his big brother, Daiya. He remembered the pit that had formed in his stomach as he read his motive. Everyone in The Crazy Diamonds were gonna find out. After keeping the gang together for so long it was all gonna be ruined. He felt shitty, he felt MORE than just shitty. And he didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. So when you had asked him what was wrong he simply stated that he wanted to be left alone. Maybe a bit more aggressively then he wanted to. And he beat himself up over it. Why couldn’t he just talk to you! Why did he have to be so stupid! That day he spent hours in the gym, working out and releasing his anger. But it wasn’t working. His thoughts kept flowing back to Daiya, and you, and his secret. What would you think of him after you found out? What if you started to hate him? He couldn’t let the last conversation you had with him before you find out be the one you had before. The one when he snapped at you and stormed off when the only thing you did was ask if he was okay. What had he done?! He had to find you!

But right as he opened the door to the gym he was met with Chihiro. She let out a slight yelp as Mondo had opened the door rather violently. "O-Oh! Mondo. There you are. Is this where you’ve been all day?" She asked him. "Yeah, what’s it fucking to ya?" Mondo answered, once again getting more aggressive then he wanted to. Chihiro frowned slightly as he raised his voice at her. Damn it, he knows he shouldn’t yell at Chihiro. "...I’m...did you want something or what?" Mondo asked, his voice a little lower then before. "Huh? O-Oh yes! I wanted to ask you...could I train with you?" This question caught Mondo completely off guard. "...train with me? Can’t you just train with Sakura and Aoi instead? How would you even get into my training room?" Mondo asked. Chihiro looked a little uncertain for a moment before taking in a deep breath. "Because..." she grabbed the door to the men’s room and closed it. Then she pulled out her tablet and pressed it against the automatic door lock. And with a small click, the door opened. Mondos eyes widened as he saw this. Soon he looked down at Chihiro. "I wouldn’t be able to get into the girls room..."

Chihiro told Mondo about her secret, or rather, his secret. How he’s been dressing up as a girl his whole life. How he’s always thought of himself as too weak. How he...how he wanted to change. He told Mondo about how he’s tired of hiding, tired of living a lie. He wanted to be like Mondo. He wanted to be strong like him. He told him that he admired Mondo. Admired him and his strength. As Mondo listened to him, he couldn’t help but think how, how did he have this much courage?! How could he face his flaws like it was nothing? He was so strong...and it just showed how much weaker Mondo was. Chihiro was strong, he faced his problems and wanted to change. But Mondo, Mondo was the opposite. He had hid away the entire day, working out just to distract himself. He had kept it all inside of him and refused to work on himself in any way at all. He had lashed out at one of the people he cared about simply because he didn’t want to be vulnerable around them...he was nothing like Chihiro...Chihiro Fuji-fucking-saki. That bastard. How dared he sit there and act like Mondo was as strong as him. As if he was anything but a coward.

"Are you making fun of me?! I’m strong? Are you fucking with me right now?" Mondo raised his voice slightly as anger seemingly seeped through him. "I’m not making fun of you. You really are strong Mondo." Chihiro tried to explain himself, thinking that Mondo got the wrong idea. "What do you want me to do? What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to just sit back, let my secret get revealed and ruin everything? Let my best friend and partner know I’m a murderer!?" Now Mondo started to shout. "Wh-Whats wrong?" Chihiros voice became fearful and worried as he tried to approach Mondo. But Mondo quickly snapped at him, turning his whole body towards him rather violently as he looked Chihiro dead in the eyes. "Why did you have to tell me all that? Are you trying to rub my failure in my face!? Huh?! Is that it!?" Mondo started to approach him as more and more fury built up inside of him. "N-No, I just- I really admire you! I admire your strength! I promise Mondo, I just want to become as strong as you are!" Chihiro backed up, but for every step he took, Mondo took one as well. And soon enough, Chihiro was backed up against the wall. He was shaking. Tears spilled out of his eyes as the taller male towered above him. "That’s right, I am strong...I’m strong! I’m strong! Stronger than you ever will be! You hear me?! I’M STRONG!" As Mondo shouted this, he bent down and picked up the object closest to him. A dumbbell. "Mondo you’re scaring-"

THUNK!

Chihiro didn’t get to finish his sentence as Mondo struck him with the dumbbell. With one hit, Chihiro fell down. With one hit, blood started to pour from his head. With one hit, the ultimate programmer known as Chihiro Fujisaki was dead. Dead and gone forever. One hit. That’s all it took. And with that one hit, Mondo came back to reality.

"....o-oh...oh fuck. Fuck! FUCK! CHIHIRO!" He fell down to his knees as he grabbed ahold of Chihiros shoulders. He started to shake him slightly. "Chihiro? Chihiro get up man! This isn’t funny! Wake up!" But his pleads fell on deaf ears. Because Chihiro wasn’t there. Chihiro was dead. He was dead because of Mondo. Chihiro trusted Mondo enough to tell him his secret and ask for help, and Mondo had killed him. Tears started to prickle Mondos eyes very soon. He let out one last breathy "fuck" and brought Chihiro close to him as he realised what he had done. He used to be the one that feared what someone might do to him. He used to wonder who he could trust, who might betray him. But in the end it was him, him who betrayed someone. Someone who could barely defend themselves. Someone who trusted him. And he betrayed that trust. "Chihiro...I’m so sorry..."

•••

And that brings us to where you all were right now. Mondo hadn’t said much during the trial. As everyone was discussing who might have killed Chihiro, the guilt was eating at him. He was a monster. He had killed someone who looked up to him and wanted to be like him. Every time he would try to focus on something else his mind just repeated what Chihiro had told him. Chihiro was strong. Strong enough to not hide away from himself. Unlike Mondo. Mondo did it when he was informed about the motives and he was doing it now...he couldn’t do this. As he looked around the room he saw that everyone was deep in their discussion. He looked at you, you had a frown on your face, he remembered the scream of pain you let out once you found your best friend tied up in the girls gym, blood pouring from his head. And even if this case clearly hurt you, you had to focus. You were gonna find out who did this. Your eyes were intense with raw emotion. That is, until you felt Mondo staring at you. You turned your gaze over to him, and as your eyes met his, they softened slightly. And that broke Mondo. He promised to protect you. And here he was, trying to get away with murder. If he got away with this, you would be executed. But if he spoke up...he would be the one dying. And as his hands started to shake he remembered what Daiya used to tell him. When a man makes a promise, he has to keep it. Even if it kills him. "Even if it kills him...." he said to himself in a very low voice. He had promised to protect you, that you would make it out alive. So even if he had to die, he had to do this. "Hey. Hey!" He said loudly, quickly getting everyone’s attention. Even if it kills him. "I have something to say..." for the first time in his life, for the last time in his life, he was gonna be strong. He was gonna be strong, like Daiya.

Like Chihiro.

Even if it kills him.

“WHY MONDO!? WHY WHY WHY?! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?! HOW COULD YOU KILL HIM!" As his best friend shouted at him he felt like curling up and hiding away. His words cut deep into Mondos heart, even if all the words were true and justified. But what hurt the most were the words he didn’t hear. Taka was screaming at him, but you, you just stared at him in silence. You looked at him with hurt and betrayal in your eyes, and yet, not a word left your mouth. Tears were running down the sides of your face, tears that he was responsible for. “It would seem like you’re all ready to vote!” Monokuma said gleefully, much to Kiyotakas horror. “W-Wait! No! Hold on!” Taka cried out as he wanted to get answers from his best friend. “No more waiting! No more holding on!” Monokuma trailed on. But Mondo didn’t listen. He knew what was going to happen. He was going to die. But at least he died for the people he loved. He looked at you. You had tear filled eyes and a big frown. Suddenly, the levers you were all supposed to pull appeared. As everyone pulled their levers, only you, Mondo and Kiyotaka had been yet to vote. “Y/N! This can’t be happening! Tell me this isn’t happening! We’re not...WE’RE NOT VOTING FOR MONDO!” He yelled out as sobs escaped his throat. “Hey...Taka...Y/N...” Mondos voice rang through the trial room. You both turned to him. “It’s okay...vote for me...be safe...” and so, he grabbed his lever and placed his vote. “No! Don’t do this Mondo! Don’t do this!” Mondo gave the lever a big yank. Finalising the vote. He looked at you, you looked at him. Through your tears you saw him nod at you. And so, you pulled your lever.

•••

Taka was violently sobbing into the long coat that you had placed on his shoulders, Mondos coat that flew off him during his execution. It was the night after the trial. And Taka was completely destroyed. He was hysterically crying, letting out a sob in between every single breath he took. You stroked him on his back while trying to calm him down. “Hey...shh...shh...it’s...it’s not okay right now. I know that. But it’s going to be okay. We’re gonna get through this Taka. You and me. For Mondo. For Chihiro. He looked at you for a second before pulling you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay. You and me, we’re gonna get out of this alive. Because...” you trailed off for a second. “....because you have me.” Kiyotaka only started to sob more after you told him this. And you just kept stroking his back. “And I have you. We have each other. And we’re gonna be okay....”

“I promise you...”

#yandere #danganronpa #yandere danganronpa #yandere danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #mondo oowada x reader #mondo oowada #mondo owada #mondo owada x reader #yandere mondo owada #yandere x reader #yandere x you #chihiro fujisaki #kiyotaka ishimaru #kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #dr #tw yandere #cw yandere #tw possessive behavior #tw murder #cw murder #danganronpa spoilers #spoilers #tw swearing #cw swearing

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 19

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

While at first the days and nights that Mulder is away on a case feel lonely, she soon comes to appreciate the time to herself. She reads more, watches the rom-coms that he despises, has one-sided conversations with Priscilla, and gives her vibrator, long since relegated to the back of her bedside drawer, a second lease on life. When Mulder is home he’s more animated and energetic, their sex exciting and passionate. The things she loves best about him magnified, but also some of the worst. There have been a few nights he’s missed dinner without so much as a phone call, and her worry quickly gave way to irritation when he waltzed in the door raving about secret storage facilities hidden in mountains. They create new routines, new boundaries and expectations, and as time wears on, they adjust. He’ll call if he’s going to miss dinner, and she won’t guilt trip him when unexpected cases ruin their plans.

The day before Thanksgiving, he gets a tip from one of his sources about a UFO crash site in Utah and books himself and Monica tickets for that night. Scully questions whether he’s going to miss Thanksgiving dinner at her mother’s and he grimaces, saying he hopes to be back but as usual, can’t make any promises.

The last she hears from him is around 8:00 am on Thanksgiving day when he asks her to send his regrets to her mom. She tries to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she promises to pack up some leftovers for him to have when he gets home. When he hasn’t called by Friday afternoon, she’s a little bit worried. By Friday night, she’s panicking.

Not knowing what else to do, she goes to the Gunmen’s, using her own special knock that spells out “doc” in Morse code.

“Hey, Sis, are you okay?” Missy greets her with a worried frown, now an honorary fourth member of the trio.

“I haven’t heard from Mulder in over twenty four hours,” she answers, breezing past Missy and into the tech room. “I need you to find him for me.”

The Gunmen work their magic while Missy pours her drink after drink. They track his flight into Salt Lake City and then ping his cell phone just outside Provo around 8:00 pm Thursday night. After that, nothing.

“What do you know about the case he was investigating?” Byers asks, perched behind a computer with Missy’s arms draped over his shoulders, her chin resting on his head.

Scully rubs her hands over her face in frustration. “Nothing, other than an alleged UFO crash site. He didn’t give me any other information.”

“What about his partner, Agent Reyes?” Langly asks, “do you have any way to get ahold of her?”

“I’ve tried her cell a hundred times, it’s off,” Scully replies, feeling tears coming up again.

“Does she have a family, someone else you could contact to see if she’s been in touch?” Byers adds.

“She has a partner, Dahlia,” Scully explains, “but I don’t know her last name to look up her number. I’m sure it’s in Monica’s file as her emergency contact, but the whole Hoover Building is shut down for the holiday. I know that her first name is Dahlia, she works at a flower shop in Alexandria, and they live in Palisades. That’s it.”

“Well we can work with that, why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Frohike offers, resting his hand on her shoulder.

She shakes her head, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers, her voice small and afraid.

“I’ll come with you, Sis,” Missy says, replacing Frohike behind Scully and wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders.

After Missy has gathered her things and kissed Byers goodbye, she drives Scully’s car back to her apartment and plies her with more alcohol. They hold hands as they sleep, Scully’s dreams plagued by visions of Mulder detained, hurt, or worst of all, dead. If she’d had any idea that having the X files reopened would put his life at risk, she never would have entertained the idea.

Please come home, she begs God, the universe, Mulder himself if he’s somewhere listening. Please be okay.

The phone shrieks and she sits up abruptly, her head spinning. Early dawn light is just beginning to seep into the room and she feels like she hasn’t slept at all.

“Mulder?!” she blurts out, a thousand prayers on the tip of her tongue.

“No, it’s Langly, sorry. We got a number for Agent Reyes’ partner.”

Missy is now awake, and scrambles to the hallway to get a pen and paper so Scully can write down Dahlia Vidales’ phone number.

“Thank you Langly, bye,” she says and hangs up without waiting for a response. She dials Dahlia’s number with shaky hands, repeating please please please in her head over and over.

“¿Hola?” says a creaky voice, and Scully glances at the clock to see that it’s only 6:00 am.

“Dahlia?” she asks desperately, her head feeling thick and muddy.

“¿Si, Quién es?”

“This is Dana Scully, have you heard from Monica recently?” Her throat feels thick and dry, her ears ringing in protest of what they might hear.

“Oh, Hi Dana. Yes, I spoke to her last night around ten pm.”

She lets out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief.

“Was Mulder with her?” she questions, her jaw quivering.

“Si, she said their cell phones were confiscated and they had stopped at a diner to get something to eat. She called me from a payphone. Is everything okay, Dana?”

She’s shaking, her body suddenly freezing even under her down comforter. The tension she’s been holding for the last two days erupts in a wave of tremors and she starts sobbing.

“Did she say when they’ll be home?” she forces out around her tears.

“They were hoping to get a flight this morning, so sometime today, should be.”

“Thank you, Dahlia. Sorry to wake you,” she says, and hangs up.

Missy holds her as she shakes uncontrollably, her head aching as her racking sobs jostle her dehydrated brain. Missy runs her a hot bath and after some ibuprofen, two big glasses of water, a set of warm clothes and a hot meal, she feels physically much better.

Mentally, she has shifted from worry, fear, and despair to white hot rage. When he walks in that door, she is going to kill him.

———

“Later, Reyes, sorry to hijack your Thanksgiving,” he says with a regretful smile as Monica slides into a cab. He grabs the next one, chucking his duffel bag into the trunk and slumping into the back seat with an exhausted sigh.

It’s been a long few days. They’d located the crash site and even got a little peek at it from behind a utility shed, but soon after they were loaded up in a paddy wagon and interrogated for six hours in a place that was definitely not a police station. When they were finally released, it was without their cell phones, though the suits were kind enough to let them keep their FBI badges.

He needs a shower and a shave, and a good night's sleep. He hopes Scully has gone grocery shopping, and if he's really lucky, there will still be Thanksgiving leftovers. He’d tried calling her from the terminal but she hadn’t answered. At least he has a full day off tomorrow before getting back to the daily grind on Monday.

The cab drops him off outside Scully’s apartment building and he tosses some money over the seat before retrieving his bag. Once inside, he’s fitting his key into the lock when the door swings open and he finds Melissa on the other side.

“Oh, hey Missy,” he says with a touch of surprise.

“I was just leaving,” she replies with an icy stare, and he wonders if something is up with her and Byers.

“Okay, see ya,” he says as she brushes past him and down the hall.

The apartment is dim, a fire crackling in the fireplace the only source of light.

“Scully?” he calls out as Priscilla trots up to him, rubbing her flank against his leg. He picks her up and scratches under her chin, letting her rub her cheek against his two-day stubble.

“I’m here,” Scully says flatly, and he realizes she’s lying on the couch.

He picks up his bag and walks it to the bedroom, dropping it on the floor and discarding his suit jacket on the bed. Returning to the living room, he leans down to kiss her on the cheek and then stands between the fire and the couch, facing her.

“Did you have plans for dinner?” he asks, “I’m starving.”

She scoffs, but he can’t make out her face in the dim light.

“Make your own fucking dinner,” she spits at him, and he physically recoils. Scully very rarely swears, so when she does, it means something.

“Whoa,” he says with a concerned tone, “What’s going on with you?”

“What’s going on with me?” she repeats, moving to sit up. “What’s going on with me? Hmm, let’s see,” she continues, her voice shifting to angry sarcasm. “Perhaps, Mulder, what’s going on with me is that my boyfriend skipped town just in time to miss Thanksgiving dinner with my family and I had to answer questions all night about where he was. Or maybe,” she says as she leans over and snaps on the lamp on the end table, illuminating her face. Her eyes are red and puffy, pronounced bags resting underneath them. “Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t heard from you in over fifty hours, not a single phone call, or email, nothing. Maybe what’s going on with me, Mulder, is that I have barely slept in two days.” She stands, moving towards him, her voice rising in volume and her bottom lip quivering. “Maybe what’s going on with me is that I thought you were fucking dead, and I had to track down Dahlia to learn that not only were you alive and well, but you were also perfectly capable of calling me, but simply chose not to. MAYBE that is what is going on with me, Mulder!”

He stands there shell-shocked as she pushes past him, slamming the bedroom door shut as wails of agony erupt from the other side. Priscilla jumps up on to the coffee table and quirks her head at him with a meow.

“I have no idea,” he says to the cat.

He cautiously opens the bedroom door and finds Scully sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, a wad of tissues in her hand and tears streaking her face. She looks up at him with a wounded expression that he’s never seen before, and would never like to again

“I’m sorry, Scully, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he says softly, approaching her.

She gives him an incredulous look.

“How the hell would I not worry if I hear nothing from you for two days, Mulder? What was I supposed to think? And why didn’t you call me?”

“They took my phone, Scully,” he offers, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“What about the phone in your hotel room, Mulder? Or a pay phone, or a goddamn stranger’s phone. Your cell phone is not the only device available for you to contact me with.”

He’s starting to feel like he’s being lectured by his mother for staying out past curfew.

“Okay, Jesus, I get it. I’ll try to call next time,” he says with an irritated tone.

“You’ll try?” Scully asks him, the anger taking center stage again.

He shrugs. “Shit happens, Scully. You don’t know what it’s like out in the field. Sometimes you don’t have access to a phone, or you’re running down a lead and just can’t waste the time to make a call.”

The shift in her demeanor tells him that was the wrong thing to say.

“Waste the time?” she asks in a tight whisper. “Calling me so I know you’re okay is a waste of your time?”

“God, no, Scully, that’s not what I meant. You’re twisting my words around. Look, I’m exhausted, I’ve barely gotten any sleep, can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“YOU’VE barely gotten any sleep?!” she screams, then stands and walks towards him. Even with the ten inches he has on her, she looks larger than life, imposing, and scary. “I have been lying awake crying for two days worried about you!” she shouts up at him. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

He’s dumbstruck. He can’t remember the last time she referred to it as her apartment instead of theirs.

“Scully, you can’t be serious, all my stuff is he-”

“I said get OUT!” She cuts him off. She picks up his bag and walks it to the front door, tossing it into the hallway.

He walks slowly towards the door, waiting for her to say she doesn’t mean it, that they should get some sleep and talk about this in the morning. She stands beside the open door, her chest heaving and her jaw set, eyes focused on some far-away point but most certainly not on him. He steps into the hallway, opening his mouth to speak, and she slams the door in his face.

He hears the thunk of the deadbolt, and the sound strikes him as similar to the final nail in a coffin.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

#13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and spirits #ghost and hauntings #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

[high-supernatural]

Secrets pt.2

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: typical tvd themes, mean Kai, they kiss at the end ;);)

Summary: Kai merged with Luke and started feeling different soon after. He got sick and the reader took care of him, throwing him into a fit of confusion. She doesn’t judge him for anything and has the understanding that he’s a product of his environment and acts out of revenge and distrust of others. Kai knows this after having a conversation with her and decides to find out all of her secrets too.

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series***

V felt even more like she was losing him now. When he went to get Jo’s magic, she went into the woods, her safe space, and begged to have her old world back, no matter how terrible it was, she wasn’t alone, she had a team, a family.

She was out there for hours and went back after the sun had gone down, silently hoping Kai wasn’t in the room. He was.

She opened the door and saw him sitting on a chair he had pulled between the coffee table and the couch. She closed the door with her back facing him and walked to the bathroom while taking her sweatshirt off, wearing a tank top underneath.

Kai grabbed her wrist as she walked past trying to avoid him, “someone’s had a rough night,” he said looking at her red eyes.

“And someone’s suddenly all better,” she looked at him expressionless.

He let go and looked away, “yeah… well…” he looked at the book he had in his hands, “turned out I wasn’t really sick, I just needed Jo’s magic and had Luke’s,” he looked back at her, still expressionless.

“Well, congrats, you can go back to being an even bigger dick now,” she was about to walk to the bathroom when she saw what he was holding.

“Why are you holding my journal?” she asked.

“Well…” he completed his coined dramatic pause, “I figured since you know all my secrets I should know yours,” she just stared at him so he kept talking, “SO, I got to reading, then I thought to myself, ‘self, this is way too personal to be reading alone, you should read it with her’, and so, here we are,” he smiled.

She didn’t see any malicious energies behind what he said, but still she asked, “what kind of game is this, Kai?”

“No games,” he said childishly, “have a seat,” he motioned at the couch.

She sat with her knees to her side, staring at him, waiting for him to start attacking her with everything she has in her journal.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

He crossed one of his legs over the other and flipped the book open, clearing his throat, “2007, age 10,” he read, “the last time I went to the prison world,” he stopped to look at her, “man you’re really obsessed with me,” he said with a smirk.

“Mhm, keep reading,” she raised an eyebrow.

“2007, 11th birthday, page 12,” he gasped in sarcasm, “what’s on page 12?” he flipped to the page and read, “I was at school, I didn’t want to go to school this day, it felt different. It felt like danger. I remember begging my parents not to make me go, but they did anyways, assuming I wanted to ditch on my birthday,” he paused to say, “those assholes,” before continuing, “I convinced Audrey and Kai to ditch with me into the basement right before we heard screams. We hid behind the vents behind a tall shelf and covered our ears when we heard the first bomb. The school crumbled onto us, but we couldn’t move. I remember begging in my mind that nobody would find us, I felt like they were here for us,” he paused again, “paranoid much?” and continued, “a group of people came into the basement calling my name, but I wasn’t going to say anything,” he looked up again, “hm, maybe not so paranoid,” and went on. “They got angry when they couldn’t find me and set the basement on fire before leaving. We almost couldn’t make it out after they left, but then I heard my dad calling for me.”

Kai flipped back to the original page he came from and looked at her, “that was tragic,” she kept staring at him, saying nothing.

“aaaand not so long after, ‘2007, 1 week after the first attack,’” he read and flipped to the page numbered beside it.

“Me, Audrey, Kai, and my parents made it to the western coast of Europe to find a boat. We traveled from Lyon to the coast of the Celtic Sea,” Kai paused again to say “I didn’t know that’s where you were from,” and chuckled before returning, “learning how to hijack cars on the way. We saw nobody the whole way. When we did, they were dead, or a monster. We didn’t know what happened yet. Everything was destroyed and I felt nothing. I went into survivor mode. We stole a boat to head towards America… we made it halfway before the waters got rough. The boat started filling with water until it was fully under. Everybody got onto a lifeboat except me, I was under the water. They started going without me until Audrey jumped and saved me. That’s when we made our deal.”

Kai gasped again, “is that why you don’t like the ocean?” he smiled through his next words and chuckled, “it is, isn’t it?” flipping back to the other page.

“You having fun yet?” V asked.

He ignored her, “what was the deal with Audrey?” he asked, “maybe it’s on this page,”

“Page 24,” she told him, “The good stuff you’re looking for is on page 24.”

Kai read again, “age 15,” he stopped again, “no dates this time, weird,” he continued, “we made it to America just days before it was attacked. We had enough time to find the community of hunters we came here for, barely. Angels were taking over. The biblical apocalypse. I don’t know what to believe anymore. My dad turned into one of those murderous vamps and we had to let him go. When we were captured my mom was killed. Me and Audrey made it out of captivity, I don’t know where Kai is anymore,” he trailed his next words, “he was with us when we were caught, he was with us through captivity, but he started to change. I woke up one morning and he wasn’t in his cell next to us. I never saw him again. I want to believe he’s dead but I know he’s somewhere far worse. It’s just me and Audrey now. We have the community but it’s thinning.”

V looked at her hands and back at Kai, “there’s letters I wrote him even though I knew I’d probably never find him in the back if you want to read those too,” she said softly.

Kai closed the book slowly and put it on the table between them, “I’m good, I think I have enough to figure you out now too.”

V put her feet on the ground, “cool, can I go now,” she rolled her eyes and didn’t give him time to answer before going into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

Kai leaned against the door and heard soft sobs and couldn’t help but feel a little bad about how he went about this.

When she came out of the bathroom Kai was leaning against the wall outside of it. She took a step back and waited for him to talk, “I need to run to the gas station, come with me?” he asked.

“I don’t want to,” she responded softly. He gave her a pouty face and she ended up going anyways.

They walked to the gas station to get snacks and drinks before Kai sat at the bus stop bench, “what are you doing now?” V asked annoyed.

“I want to talk to you,”

“You talk enough, constantly,” she responded. Kai just sat smirking at her, so she sighed and sat down next him, looking in another direction.

A moment of silence went by before he spoke, “I don’t know how to talk to you, V,” he gently placed his fingers on her upper arm prompting her to snap her head and look him up and down as her reflex response.

“That’s crazy because you’re always talking,” she snapped.

He took his hand away. “I think I care about you, but I don’t know how to talk to you, and I only have a few things I want to say,” he looked into the distance, and she looked at him, “just say them,” she said.

She looked into his eyes when he spoke, “I’ve done some… really bad things. Some I won’t even admit. But they haunt me, eat at me, and I can’t get rid of them. I killed my family, kids too. And it got me locked away for 18 years. I came back and killed more of them, I didn’t learn anything from being there,” she still looked at him, listening, when he looked away to finish.

“There’s times I’m afraid I’m gonna kill you too. Or anybody, really. It’s not a revenge kick. I slept on the couch because I woke up with my hand on your throat and I thought about it for a split second. My entire life I’ve been the freak, feigning for hits of magic like a kid on drugs. I became the coven leader, and nothing really changed,” he stopped and looked at his hands before continuing.

“Except now I can feel things and I don’t know how to process. I remember everything I’ve done and I know it was wrong, but part of me still doesn’t care,” he sniffed and looked the other way to avoid tears before looking back down, “everything I’ve done in my life has been the wrong thing. I don’t know how to do the right thing. When I was in that prison world there were times I’d try to end it multiple times a day, now that I’m here I think about it a lot because I know it’d work this time. I’m not a good person, V, I never have been, someone like you shouldn’t be around me.”

“Look at me,” she spoke, “your family sucked, not you,” she moved his face to look at her with her finger, “they isolated you because you were different and they didn’t understand, that’s not on you. They beat you, didn’t let you touch or come near anybody, treated you different, and over time you turned yourself into somebody they thought you were. You tried being who you were, but everybody around you acted like you were different, so that’s who you became.”

“How do you know all this” he whispered.

“When I look at you I can see past the things not even you can see in yourself. I can see who you really are in that deep place, and I can see who your family made you out to be on the outside. You’re not evil, Kai.”

“You know what I’ve done, V—” he interrupted.

“I know what you’ve done, and I know your motives behind it. I still think what you’ve done says more about your family than it does you, because that’s who they built. I see you on the outside and see something they built in their image. Underneath that I see revenge, hatred, and an aimed vengeance. Deeper I see someone who wants to let it go but can’t because they hurt every aspect of your being. But deeper I see that you just hurt, all the time, and it doesn’t stop, and I get it, you’re confused a lot.”

There was a long pause, Kai looked away and V looked at him still.

She sighed and scooted closer to him, “you aren’t evil. Not only can I see that, but you prove it. A real psycho wouldn’t have had the conscious to sleep on the couch or talk to me about anything. If you were really a psycho with no feelings, I’d either be dead or you wouldn’t be here because you’d break the pact,” she grabbed his hand and he looked at her again.

“Get it through your head this time,” she spoke soft, “you aren’t evil. I’ve seen enough evil to see it a mile away and I wouldn’t want you that far away from me.”

She interlocked their fingers as they looked at each other. Kai had an expression on his face that told her he wanted to close the space between them but part of him didn’t believe what she was saying, he was scared and frustrated with himself.

She took her hand away to wrap her arms around his neck, bending her knees up onto the bus stop bench to her side and got closer to his face, “believe me,” she whispered before laying her lips on his.

He placed a hand on her waist and the other on her knee, giving into the kiss.

They moved their lips together for what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds before V pulled away with her arms still around him, “do you believe me then,” she asked.

“If I say no, will you kiss me again?” Kai said almost speechless.

V pulled him into another, more passionate kiss, rubbing her thumb through his hair as his hand made its way up to hers, placing the hand that was on her knee behind her, pulling her deeper.

She opened her eyes slowly, “we should head back,”

“If you promise you’ll do that again, okay,”

“Pinky swear.”

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #kai parker imagine #kai parker fluff #kai parker fanfic #malachai parker #tvd #tvd fanfiction #tvd au #tvd series

[lastwagontrainhopper]

A guiding hand

Royai week day 2 - Serene (let’s collectively ignore how late I am posting this ok thaaaanks)

Summary:   “She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke again, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ” ”

---

The Colonel and his Lieutenant share a late-night conversation. (Blind!Roy)

Words: 2489 

Tags: Blind Roy Mustang, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant

read on aot

“They had left their windows wide open, letting in a soft breeze to relieve them from the heavy summer heat. The curtains were rising and falling without a sound, fluttering in the air like ghosts. Even the streets around the house were quiet at that hour; the only thing that broke the stillness of the night was Riza's voice.

"As for Senator Harn's wife, she was wearing a very elegant apricot-colored dress. With her signature high hairdo, of course.”

Their blankets had long been kicked away to the bottom of the bed in a messy pile. Roy was lying on his back, facing to the ceiling, one hand playing idly with a lock of Riza's hair.

"Apricot?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "That's the yellow with a touch of pink, right?”

"That was pretty much it, yes." Riza was lying on her side, her head against her hand, elbow propped up on the pillow. The room was covered in shadows, but the flickering lights from the window on the street allowed her to see the outline of Roy's face.

"And you said Harn had a royal blue jacket...That must have made for an odd contrast.”

Riza smirked. "Yes, that's what several people seemed to think. It looked as if the General and his wife had not consulted with one another before coming to the gala.”

A sly smile spread across Roy’s face. "Ha! And you just know the rumors about their marriage are already flying high. It's sort of ironic, considering how Harn is constantly babbling to the Parliament about the “traditional family” and the “sanctity of marriage” and whatnot." His hand came to lightly circle Riza's wrist, his thumb tapping the back of her hand. "I’m sure you now understand how crucial fashion is in Central. It's not just a matter of taste: it's inherently political.”

"Sure," she answered, unconvinced. "Anyway. The Harns didn't capture the guests' attention that long, since the buffet was brought shortly after.”

Roy hummed appreciated. "And that was a good one. I've rarely tasted crab this delicious.”

"Yes, and they must have put as much effort into the presentation as in the cooking, because the set-up was magnificent. Everything was served on glittering silver plates, which reflected the glow of the chandeliers. On each table, the dishes were arranged in a sort of pyramid, culminating with the piece of meat or seafood. It looked extremely fragile, like...like some sort of house of cards, or crystal architecture, defying gravity - but they all stood the evening without crashing down. It was breathtaking.”

This had become the most constant part of their day. Almost every night, as they lay in bed before going to sleep, Riza would describe to Roy a long list of the things he hadn’t been able to see during the day. When they had first started this habit, as they were working on the the reconstruction of Ishval, Riza's descriptions had been much more pragmatic, like a mission report: which building seemed in need of repair? Which tribal leader looked unsatisfied during their morning meeting? She did her best to give him this information as the day went by, but there were always important details that she missed.

As the years had passed and the two had distanced themselves from the military, Riza's description had slowly become more lyrical. She began to tell him about beautiful sights that he was missing – a particularly colorful sunset, or the way the city lights looked at night. As time went by, she started to enjoy these conversations and more more, and they became increasingly long. It got to the point where, as Riza saw something pretty during the day, she found herself immediately thinking of the way she would describe it to Roy later at night.

"You should try to write a book," he had told her once. "You're so good at this - I can picture in my mind everything that you're telling me about like I was seeing it."

"It wouldn't be the same," she had answered, shaking her head. "I like hearing your reactions."

He had arched his eyebrows, smirking. "And yet you scold me every time I interrupt you.”

"Stop being overdramatic,” she had retorted. “Now let me continue." They had left it at that.

Sometimes Riza would rest her head on his chest as she went on with her stories. This was what Roy preferred.  Ever since losing his eyesight, he had grown much fonder of physical contact, even casual, with her - after all, it was the surest way he could know that she was by his side. But Riza liked to remain slightly further, just next to him, so that she would be able to observe him during their late-night conversation. His face would take on such a special expression at those times, almost peaceful, or...serene.

Serene. That would have been the last word anyone would have chosen to describe Roy under normal circumstances. Despite his reputation as a slacker, he was a man that was constantly busy thinking about one thing or another, pondering, planning his next ploy – or his next date with a certain Lieutenant. His eyes in particular had always betrayed the constant working of his mind: they were restless, always darting around the room to study the people they were talking to, noticing details in their postures, noting suspicious movements out of the corner of his eye.

And, Riza knew it well, even the moments of rest didn’t bring Roy much serenity. More often than not, his sleep was plagued by violent nightmares that would wake him screaming in the middle of the night - or at least, that tensed and distorted his expression as he slept.

This had not changed since the Promised Day. But since Roy’s fight in the underground of Central, his blind eyes had lost their piercing look and had taken on a milky appearance. In the first few weeks, Riza had hated meeting that blank stare - it reminded her too much of what his eyes used to look like, as well as symbolizing her failure as a bodyguard.

But eventually, she had come to see a certain beauty in them, and in the calmness they brought to Roy's expression. He was still as expressive as ever, with his trademark crooked smile and taunting eyebrows. But in the evening, when they were alone together, his face truly relaxed. As Riza described the day's events to him, he would focus entirely on her voice, letting his mind recreate the image she was painting. His eyebrows would loosen and his forehead became smooth, free of its usual furrow; his mouth would fall half-open. At this particular moment, Roy took on a serene expression that Riza had never seen on him before, and she never got tired of looking at it.

"I need to tell you, unfortunately," Riza broke the silence that had settled, "that you were not the best-dressed man at the reception.”

Roy propped himself up on his elbows, frowning with surprise. So much for serenity.

"What? Who was?”

“You’re not going to be happy about this,” Riza said, trying to hide the small smile in her voice. "But Colonel Birks made quite an impression. He wore a rather daring suit, made of a black  fabric from which red velvet patterns stood out.”

Roy huffed with indignation. "Velvet! Nonsense. He obviously can’t stop pushing the boundaries of extravagance – and of bad taste.”

"I don't know," Riza said evasively. “I thought it was pretty elegant…and I wasn't the only one.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "Outdressing the president should be considered insubordination," he muttered under his breath. "I'll call Ms. Zhao tomorrow. I need something more avant-garde for the next gala. Maybe with some silk mixed in with a cotton suit?”

He lay down again on the bed and raised his arm, inviting her to come closer. Riza moved to nestle up against him, putting her head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest. Roy wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his nose in her hair. Whenever he did that, his breaths would tickle Riza's neck, making her giggle; she would always pretend to be annoyed but it, but they both knew better.

After a moment, Roy tucked some of her hair away from her face. He brought his lips close to her ear. "Tell me again what you were wearing."

Riza felt a shiver go down her spine. That deep voice that Roy used when he whispered always got a reaction out of her, no matter what cliché or silly thing he would say.

A wry smile crossed her lips. "At this point, you know my wardrobe better than I do, Roy. ”

"I know," he answered, unabashed. "But I like hearing you describe it."

Riza chuckled. “Well,” she began, “I was wearing the flowy emerald green skirt that Rebecca got me for Christmas, a brown leather belt, and my white blouse. The one with the embroidery on the collar. ”

He hummed in appreciation. "With your golden high heels, I'm guessing."

"With my golden high heels," she nodded, "because even though my feet are killing by the end of the night when I wear them, they do really go well with that skirt." Her hand started to play with the ring that Roy wore as a necklace. "I didn't put much makeup on because of how humid the weather was. But I did wear my bright red lipstick."

She felt his cheeky smile even before he spoke. "I can recognize it by taste, now."

If they weren’t pressed so close together, she would have dug her elbow into his ribs. She rolled her eyes instead. "I also had my gold bracelet to go with the shoes, and the earrings you bought me to complete it all. What else...my hair was in a bun, and, of course, I had my necklace."

She expected Roy to follow up with a flirty comment or a joke; that was usually how this type of conversation went. Instead, after a moment, he let out a sight. When he spoke, his voice had a melancholic tone to it.

"That right there is the one sight that I really miss. ”

Riza felt her smile drop. A lump appeared in her throat. Roy rarely complained about his blindness; even in the months following the Promised Day, he had adapted to his new lifestyle with impressive resilience. At first, it seemed as if his disability had affected his Lieutenant, plagued by guilt, more than himself. Still, Riza knew that he must have carried a lot of silent regrets through the years. There was so much Roy had had to give up, so many compromises he had had to reluctantly accept on his plan to reform Amestris – and on his personal life.

Riza disentangled herself gently from his grasp and straighten up, half sitting, to observe him. One of his arms was folded under his head, and he still seemed to be looking at the ceiling - but of course, that was just an impression. She ran a hand through his hair, brushing them away from his face. He smiled slightly at her touch, but she didn't need to see the pupils of his eyes to know that his heart wasn't in it.

She didn't like seeing him like this. With thoses cloudy eyes, melancholy turned his serene expression into a confused one - like he was a child that got lost and couldn't look for his way home.

Riza laid down again and rested her head on the pillow, her face turned toward Roy. She started to gently stroke his arm. "At least, you can keep in your mind the image of what I – and you – looked like in the prime of our youth," she said after a moment in a playful tone, trying to comfort him. "You won't need to see us get all old and wrinkled.”

To her surprise, Roy's face saddened further.

"Don't say that. Beautiful women are like fine wine, they only get better with age - that's what Chris used to say. I always wanted to see how you would look as you grew old.”

Riza raised her eyebrow, surprised. "Really?" she answered in spite of herself.

He nodded. "Not everyone ages gracefully, of course. But I know that wrinkles would look flattering on you; you have such elegant features. And silvery hair never fails to give this distinguished look - at least on women," he added, running a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. His eyebrows furrowed. "Do I already have grey hair?"

Riza felt her shoulders relax. "You're almost completely bald by now, Roy."

He winced. "Please don't joke with that. I don't know what I would do if this were to happen.

Riza simply smiled, and they fell back into a comfortable silence. She watched Roy’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, lulled by the calm rhythm.

"You know, I always wished I could see you grow old, also because it would have meant that we made it."

Riza felt her breath catch in her throat.

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, hoping her touch could tell him what her words couldn’t.

“We did make it, Roy.” Now of all time, she wished he could see her face.

"I know," he said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. "I know."

Riza propped herself up on her elbow. She close her fingers around his, and squeezed firmly.

"Listen. We'll just do like with everything else. When my hair turns grey, I'll describe it to you. And as for the wrinkles," she placed his hand on her face, "you can see that for yourself."

Roy made a small smile. For the first time, he turned to face her, placing the tip of his fingers on both sides of her face. That was something he never tired of doing. Before he had lost his sight, he had always been able to read her like a book, understanding the meaning behind even the most subtle of her facial expressions. Now, he could do it in a much more literal sense, by tracing the surface of her body, reading the lines on her skin as if they were words written in braille.

"And when my face is so wrinkled it's unrecognizable,” she continued, "you will know the story behind each one of them.” She injected a smile into her voice. “The ones I already have on my forehead, for example, come from the stress of having spent so many years asking you to do your paperwork.”

His fingers brushed her forehead, and he smiled, abashed. "And you're all the more beautiful for it, my dear." He reached toward her and, guided by his hands, placed a light kiss on her head. “I can’t wait to see the rest.” ”

#royaiweek21 #royai #blind roy #fma #fanfic

[severetimetravelnerd]

I Don’t Know(ft. G Dragon and MINO) (6)

Part 6

When Jiyong stumbles into your home drunk, you start to remember things long forgotten.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Taglist:

@kwonnansi​

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@yee-hawwwwwwww​

@slayergroupie0128​

@herewecomeitsjekki​

@happygirl327​

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 2840

WARNINGS: slight smut, drinking.

——————————————-

6 years ago

It was late. Jiyong had just finished watching a movie and was wrapping up. He was just about to go to bed when he heard loud singing and knocking from the front door. Rushing to get the door before anyone else woke up, he opened it to find you, flushed and swaying, with an idiotic smile on your face.

“Jiyong!”

And you threw yourself at him. He caught you, whisper shouting at you.

“What’re you doing? Why did you drink so much?”

You pouted, eyes becoming sad. His heart clenched.

“It was Mina’s bachelorette.”

“Why’re you here?”

You looked around, confused.

“I don’t know.”

Your eyes widened.

“Do you not want me here?”

Your lips started trembling. Jiyong sighed.

“No, it’s not that. Come with me. Just… don’t make any noise.”

Immediately, your face lit up and you yelled,

“Yay!”

He smiled looking at you, gently shushing you. You were an adorable drunk. You pouted.

“Why do you not want me to talk Jiyong?!”

“Because it’s 2 in the morning and I don’t want you to wake up everyone else?”

“Oh. Good point.”

He held your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Sit here and don’t move, okay?”

You reached out and grabbed his hair.

“Woah! So fluffy! Your hair is surprisingly soft for someone who dyes their hair so much.”

Jiyong froze, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. You ruffled his hair, laughing.

“You’re surprisingly cute Jiyong.”

He turned red.

“J-just wait here, okay?”

Still flushed, Jiyong went up to his room to get make up remover for you. By the time he got back though, you weren’t there anymore. It was relatively easy to find you though. He just had to follow the sound of the crashes.

He found you in the kitchen, crawled up on the counter, trying to reach the chocolate wafers. He sighed and reached over you, getting the wafers and handing them to you.

“What’re you doing?”

“I was hungry.”

“Okay. Turn towards me.”

“No. I want to eat and you’ll steal my wafers.”

Jiyong didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

“Y/N, I’m not going to steal your wafers. I just want to remove your make up and get you to bed.”

“Sleep is for the weak Jiyong.”

“Says the girl who once slept for three days straight.”

You huffed and widened your eyes.

“Hey! That was after not sleeping for a week!”

“Why didn’t you sleep for a week?”

“…I procrastinated.”

“Exactly.”

Tired of you rambling, Jiyong gently grabbed your waist and turned you towards him, standing between your legs.

“You can continue eating. I just want to remove your make up.”

And as he gently wiped off all your makeup, you stared at him, wondering how he was so beautiful. When he looked up and caught you staring, you blushed and stuffed a wafer into his mouth.

“What was that for?”

“Consider it a gift.”

“Come on, let’s go up.”

You started whining.

“No, Jiyong. I’m tired. I’m just going to curl up here and sleep.”

Jiyong raised his eyebrows.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“On the cold marble counter top?”

“Yes.”

“Where there is barely enough space for you to sit?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. Muttering under his breath, one of his hands gently went under your knees and the other went around your waist as he carried you, enjoying the way your arms went around his neck immediately for support. Your face went red and you buried your face in his neck, leaving you unaware of his adorable smile. He opened the door to his room and gently put you down on his bed. Sounding adorable confused, you asked,

“Why are we in your room?”

“Because if you wake up Mirae, she’ll kill you and you need to change. Here, take this t-shirt and shorts. I’ll be outside. Call me once you’re done changing and I’ll help you to Mirae’s room.”

You felt happy when you wore his clothes. Your drunk mind didn’t comprehend why, but it felt nice. It was comfortable. It was familiar. You looked around at his room and stared at the pictures he had up. You were in some of them. It made you feel nice. At least he cared. Even if you didn’t remember this the next morning, it was nice to know he cared. You were interrupted by a gentle knock and Jiyong came in.

“You should have called me.”

“I was looking around.”

He sighed, ruffling your hair.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

And as he held your hand, you pulled him closer, burying your face in his chest.

“Jiyong, can we just stay here like this for a while?”

His breath hitched, but he sat there next to you in silence, allowing you to rest against him. After a while, he realised your breathing was getting slower and sleepier. He was about to get up and tuck you in when you grabbed his hand. You mumbled something in your sleep.

“Don’t go Jiyong.”

His heart melted when he saw your small hand wrapped around his. He moved you in and lay down next to you, letting you snuggle into him and just enjoyed the moment. He stayed like that for a while, until he was sure you were asleep, and then got up and slept on the couch. Seeing you in his arms in the morning would have been too much. He didn’t want to give himself hope.

 4 years ago

There was a family get together at Mirae’s place. You were practically part of the family, so of course, you were there too. You smiled at everyone as you stepped away from the light and the noise, wanting a bit of fresh air. You walked away, enjoying the cold, fresh night air. You walked towards the back, walking through some grass when you heard the grass behind you rustle. Tensing, you turned around, prepared to punch whoever was following you, but only found a very surprised, sheepish Jiyong trying to light up a cigarette. You walked over to him, stifling a laugh at the way he refused to meet your eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m here to smoke.”

You looked at him sceptically.

“Weren’t you supposed to be trying to quit?”

He looked at you suspiciously.

“What’s it to you?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you.”

You moved away, not liking the smell of the smoke, and you stumbled. Jiyong’s eyes widened and he grabbed your arm, pulling you into him.

“Be careful! You could’ve gotten hurt. Why’d you move away?”

Your face scrunched up when he breathed out the smoke on your face.

“I don’t like the smell of cigarettes Jiyong. You do what you want, but I’m going to just walk for a bit.”

You gave him a light smile, wrapped your shawl around yourself tighter and walked off. Jiyong watched you walk away with a growing sense of panic. Suddenly, he found himself putting out his cigarette and jogging up to catch up with you. He never smoked a cigarette around you again, because he never wanted you to walk away from him like that again.

 ***

Minho sat down at the table, with you sitting right next to him, your hand on his thigh. Jiyong’s jaw tensed. You didn’t realise but Minho did, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Jiyong while taking your hand and saying,

“Hi hyung! It’s nice seeing you here.”

Jiyong barely managed to politely smile and nod at Minho before getting up to leave for the bar. It was going to be a long night. Minho felt a little guilty for driving away his hyung, but the overwhelming feeling was still relief, because seeing you with his hyung just reminded him of everything in the past.

Two hours later, Jiyong could barely stand when Hwiyoung, the designated driver for the night, helped him into his car. Hwiyoung had very kindly offered to drop off everyone, but you had declined, knowing that they couldn’t find out about Minho. Jiyong was drunk, and while that was nothing new to him, he was used to taking someone home with him. After meeting you again though, he couldn’t, because every time he was with another woman, all he could see was your face, your smile, your lips, everything about you. He was lost in thought, thinking about you when Hwiyoung stopped the car for Somin to get out. Just wondering out loud, he asked,

“I wonder why Y/N didn’t just come with us. You and Y/N literally live on the same floor.”

Somin laughed.

“I’m sure she had her reasons. But we don’t live on the same floor. I live on the 9th floor and she lives on the tenth floor.”

“Meh, close enough.”

Hwiyoung was about to start the car again when Jiyong suddenly sat up, barely aware of what he was doing when he told Hwiyoung,

“Hwiyoung, thanks for the lift, but I’ll get off here.”

“What? Why? This is so far away from your place.”

To make things less suspicious, Jiyong smirked and said,

“Yeah, I know, but a girl I know just texted me to meet her at the ice cream place down the road, so I’ll just go.”

“Oh, okay then. See you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Hwiyoung.”

 You were slowly unwinding after Minho dropped you home, changing into a tank top and shorts and listening to music while going through your emails. You smiled when you saw Somin’s. She really was a lifesaver. You opened up the email and a chill went down your body. It was about the meeting with Jiyong. The one where you thought he was making fun of you. The more you read of it though, the worse it became. Why was he apologising? Why were the colours he picked your favourite colours? Why did he pick tea, peonies and poems? Oh no. Oh good god no. You shook your head. You had to be wrong. He couldn’t possibly like you. After years of making you feel awful, he can’t just change his mind. Just when you were finally happy. You snapped your laptop shut. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You couldn’t afford to. But just as your mind went back to it, you heard the doorbell ring.

You were suspicious about who could be knocking at your door so late, but you knew who it was the moment you heard his drunken singing of ‘If you’. Your blood froze, but you opened to door to see what he needed. Icy, you asked,

“What is it?”

Jiyong didn’t respond and walked straight into your apartment, looking around in wonder.

“Get out of my apartment.”

Jiyong just turned and flashed you a light, trusting grin. You just stared at him in disbelief. He came close to you and cupped your cheeks.

“Wow, you look really pretty.”

And before you could react and pull away, he moved away, covering his face and blushing. You looked at him, drunk out of his mind and sighed.

“Can you stand on your own?”

He jumped.

“Yeah, I’m going to take that as a yes. You’re too drunk to go home on your own, so I’m going to call you a cab, okay? I know we have to be careful about your image but I know this one guy-”

And before you could complete your sentence, he fell on you, pushing both of you onto the couch. His forehead was resting against your collarbone. You blushed as you looked around. It was a very awkward position to be in. You were just about to push him off when he held your hand and very sleepily said,

“Don’t go Y/N. Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

You froze. You never fully remembered what happened when you were drunk, but this brought back memories. Why was it that you had a vague memory of saying that to him and him actually listening? You looked down at him. He was asleep already. Sighing, you pushed him off and got up, shaking your head as you forced yourself to not think about what you just remembered. Or what Somin’s mail told you. You couldn’t afford to. Not when you finally got over him. Not when you were happy with Minho. You went and got a blanket to cover Jiyong with. It was cold without one. You looked down and decided that you didn’t want to be alone at home with Jiyong. Too many memories. And it would have killed Minho if you did. So, you called him.

He sounded quite surprised when he answered.

“Hey Y/N, all okay?”

You smiled when you heard his voice. You could already see the raised eyebrows on his face.

“Hey Minho. Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was just changing. What’s up?”

“Do you mind spending the night here, with me?”

You could hear him grab his car keys and wallet.

“I’m on my way. What happened?”

“Jiyong is here.”

Minho had just gotten into the elevator when he heard that. His heart stopped for a second.

“Jiyong turned up here drunk and passed out on my couch. I don’t want to be here alone with him, which is why I called you.”

You paused.

“Minho, sweetheart, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. Nothing happened. He just passed out here. I like you. I’m with you for you.”

You could hear Minho shakily take a breath.

“Yeah, I know Y/N. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry.”

 When you opened the door fifteen minutes later, you were expecting to find a worried, sad Minho. You were not expecting to be pushed against a wall and kissed hungrily. Before you could get used to it and kiss him back, Minho wrapped your legs around his waist and his mouth had already moved on from your lips to your neck, hell bent on leaving marks. Minho couldn’t help it. His fear got the better of him. He had to feel you. He had to feel you to know that everything was real. That you were his girlfriend. That he wasn’t just lying to himself.  His hands desperately went to your tank top and bra and ripped them off. You gasped. You knew something was off. This felt different. Minho had never been this aggressive with you. But the moment his tongue met your nipple, all thought left your mind and you moaned, letting him carry you to the bedroom.

  ---

Jiyong woke up early the next morning, wincing at the sunlight that was hitting his face. Yawning, he slowly stretched and looked around. Where was he? Did he go home with a woman last night? He furrowed his brows. No, that’s not right. He was with Y/N and her team last night. Oh shit Y/N. that’s when everything started to come back. And then suddenly, in the span of seconds, he went from confused to happy because if he was in an unfamiliar place, that meant you had let him stay. He looked down at the blanket covering him with a newfound appreciation. You had put that blanket on him. You still cared enough about him to do that for him. He grinned and jumped up, wincing from the ache in his head. He had to do something as a thank you. As he went to get water, he suddenly found a packet of pancake mix. His smile got wider. That was one of the few things he could cook and luckily, pancakes for breakfast were your favourite.

A good twenty minutes later, you stirred, the sounds from the kitchen disturbing you. Wait. Sounds from the kitchen? If you weren’t cooking, who was? Turning around, you saw Minho with his arms wrapped around you. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and slid out of his arms, throwing on his shirt from last night before walking out into the kitchen. You were taken aback when you saw Jiyong flipping pancakes and adding them to a stack next to him.

“Jiyong, what is this?”

Jiyong grinned. You called him Jiyong again. He was in the middle of flipping a pancake, so without turning around to face you, he said,

“Good morning Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash here last night when I was drunk. As a thank you, I made pancakes.”

He had just flipped the last pancake and turned around with a huge smile on his face only for it to fade. And fast. It first faded because he saw all the new marks on your neck from last night because of how loose Mino’s shirt was on you. It faded more because a shirtless Mino had walked out of your bedroom, wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you. He looked up at Jiyong, surprised at first, then nervous and finally, with a challenging raise of his eyebrows, he said,

“Good morning hyung.”

#kpop scenarios #kpop angst #g dragon scenarios #mino scenarios #kpop series #g dragon angst #g dragon fluff #mino fluff #mino angst #mino smut #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #angst #fluff #smut #g dragon #kwon jiyong #mino #song minho #bigbang scenarios #winner scenarios #fanfiction

[duncanxtrent]

F is for Fever

(Another prompt done by the always amazing @trash-that-loves-total-drama cause My brain is short circuiting and honestly they have helped a ton with me writing ok let’s go)

(Also for context Trent and Duncan both are students of Hopes Peak in a non despair universe cause I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE THIS BUT I HAVENT HAD OPPORTUNITIES TO!!!)

“Where’s Duncan been?” I ask

“I don’t know… He’s been hanging out in his room all day…” Jake mumbles.

“That’s… Mildly concerning…” I say

“Aren’t you his roommate? You should know!” Huey shouts.

“I don’t know, he’s usually asleep when I wake up, and today was the same. He might have just slept in.” Jake shrugs.

“Well if that idiot misses another class unexcused I guarantee the school will be sent into another killing game panic…” Sonic groans.

“Do you think you could check on him, Trent?” Monika asks

“Could you excuse me from class? Then if so sure!” I respond.

“I can get you pulled out of class! Though I will be dropping off any homework by your dorm.” Athena adds.

“Yeah that’s what I expected…” I say rolling my eyes.

I quietly get up from class and walk down to the boys dorm house. I quietly knock on Duncan’s door.

“Hey dude you doing ok?” I ask

Silence.

“It’s your boyfriend!” I call out.

Still silent.

“If you open the door, I’ll cuddle you for the next hour.”

I hear some mild groaning from inside. And then some shuffling as the door unlocks. Duncan opens up and I nearly gag.

He has snot and various other liquids dripping from every pore on his face. He has cold sweat running down his forehead and his cheeks are red. There are bags under his eyes and he looks like he just faught off an army of Monokumas.

“Dude!!! What happened?” I shout.

“Eh whaddya mean?” He groans.

“You’ve been missing from school all day! And you look like absolute garbage!” I cry out.

“Whaddya mean? I just slept in a little…” He mumbles.

“Dude… It’s 2 in the afternoon…” I explain.

Duncan looks at me shocked.

“You’re not fucking serious?”

“I am…”

“Dear fucking god…” He groans nearly face planting into the door.

“You doing ok?” I ask

“I’ve just been dealing with something ok? Tell the teacher I’ll be back Tommorow or whatever…” He groans trying to shut the door.

I stop the door from shutting and slide in. “Nope… You’re clearly sick as fuck and I am not letting you get away like that…”

“What the fuck are you gonna do?” He says letting me into his room.

“This” O say scooping him up on my way him. His face goes redder than it already is as I carry him bridal style to his couch.

I plop him down on it and take out some toast I had saved for tommoroww breakfast. I hand him some and he quietly starts munxhing on it.

I pull up the blanket around the two of us and I qrap his arm around him as we sit there quietly.

“So this is what were doing huh?” Duncan asks muffled

“Until you’re better? Yes.” I say cuddling closer to him.

“… Alright” He says snuggling next to me. “Just dont blame me if you get sick too.”

“Why would I do that to my boyfriend?” I say smooching him.

“Still cant believe You and I can say that now.” Duncan mumbles.

“What? That were boyfriends?” I ask

“Its still crazy. I never thought you would actually like me back” He says sniffling.

“Ive always liked you back, idiot.” I say comforting him.

“I know… I guess Im just… Happy”

“Good. Thats all I need to hear.

(God this is short but here it is)

#duntrent #the ABCs of Duntrent #istg #go follow them #they are too amazing to not have more followers #where has my writing energy gone? #the never ending void! #where else? #also Jake and June are just friends of Duncan and Trent in this au #in case that wasn’t clear #😅 #god this took too long to wrire #and its also so short too!

[oliverwxod]

The hardest part is letting go (Part 2) - Geralt imagine

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex. 

Summary: Part 2 to this 

"Another day, another slay" Jaskier mumbled under his breath, strumming a small musical tune , "wait no... Another day... Another... Another..."

 "You okay?" Y/n chuckled to herself, throwing Jaskier a look. "You've been mumbling for the past 10 minutes"

 Jaskier looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a sigh. 

 "I need some inspiration" he huffed. 

 "Things got too boring for you?" Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow up at him. 

 "Oh- no - that's not what I meant I just-" y/n laugh at his stuttering. 

 "I'm not offended" she laughed "it's fine, I'm bored too".

"You should be glad" Geralts voice came from the trees, the two of them squinting to see him appear out of the mist that had not cleared due to the early morning sun that was still trying to rise and cut through the clouds so a new day could begin. 

 "Glad for what?" Y/n questioned, staring at the Witcher. He looked like he hadn't even slept last night. Y/n guessed that he didn't, not when he had paid to spend the night with a woman. 

 "That you're bored" he spoke, staring at her briefly before looking away. 

 "But being bored is so- boring" she complained, stretching her arms out and yawning just to make her point stronger. 

 Jaskier let out a laugh, Geralt once again hated how Jaskier was looking at Y/n. Like she had hung the moon and the stars, he'll even all the other planets that existed up their. Geralt scoffed under his breath.

 "Lets move" he grunted, swinging himself on to his horse with ease, whereas Y/n and Jaskier both struggled with theirs. 

 "Where to?" Jaskier spoke "another great Witcher adventure, maybe I'll get my inspiration" 

 "Why don't you write a song about me" Y/n spoke, a teasing gleam in her eyes that spoke trouble. She flashed a quick grin to Geralt who glared at her. 

 "What makes you think that I haven't already?" Jaskier teased back. He hadn't ever had the confidence to ever come up with a comeback to her teasing before. A spark lightening up in Y/n's eyes that had Geralt grunting again in distaste.

 "Can I hear it?" She asked, smirking at the bard. 

 "Nope". 

"What? Why not?" She whined "please Jaskier" 

 "I'm going to save it" he spoke proudly.

 "Save it for what?" She asked, confusion closing over her face and curiously running through her. She was eager to hear it, a song written about her by a bard. A talented one at that.

 "For when the times right for others to hear it, for they will all fall in love with the mighty Y/n once they do. And I don't think you're ready for all the people to love you" Y/n let out a laugh. 

"Well now I really want to hear it".

 "Would you two stop this wanton talk, " Geralt spoke harshly. He hated it. Couldn't deal with the bards constant talking and Y/n's teasingly. He knew she was only doing it because she was bored. 

 "Just because you barely speak doesn't mean we can't. It's just teasing Geralt" she spoke, her voice didn't hold any kind of annoyance though.

 "Watch it" he glared in response to her first comment. 

 "Oh mysterious Wicther, why do though not speak" y/n spoke exaggeratedly, calling out to the Forrest, arms spread open in exclamation. "Why does though not laugh or play" 

 Jaskier started to strum a tune making her laugh, before he carried on, turning her words into a song.

 "Very funny" Geralt huffed, glaring once again at the two of them who had both broken out into fits of giggles. "The two of you are children" he spoke gruffly, turning his nose up at them.

 Y/n rolled her eyes when she met Jaskiers eyes, the two of them sharing a smile as Geralt had ridden ahead, now leading them. 

 "Soooo" Jaskier spoke, it had been quiet for nearing an hour as they all rode, the pathways were widening suggesting they would probably be reaching a village soon. 

"Has anybody ever been in love?" Y/n coughed, a laugh spluttering from her lips at the question. 

 "Why does that amuse you dear Y/n?" Jaskier asked, smirking slightly at her .

 "Just wasn't expecting such an - outrageous question" 

 "You think love is outrageous?" Jaskier asked shocked. Geralt found himself actually listening to their conversation with interest this time. 

 "Of course it is" she spoke. 

 "What makes you say that?" The bard asked, slowing down. 

 "Because I imagine it to hurt, a lot" she said quietly. "Because there's going to be a point where the person you love is going to love someone else"

 "That's a depressing way to look at it" Jaskier stated. Silence falling over the trio. 

Geralt was a little shocked by her words, y/n seemed to be a joyful soul, much like Jaskier, he thought she would easily be the kind of person who believed in love, the kind of girl that would want to get married and have a family. The conversation died there, the only sounds being those of the silence in the forest and the chirping of birds and distant chatter from a nearby village.

 "There was once a man" y/n spoke gaining the attention of the two men and breaking the silence. "He wanted to prove his love to his wife. So he went on an adventure, He climbed the highest mountain, swam the deepest seas and slayed a silver dragon. Do you know what his wife did?" She left the question open, neither Geralt or Jaskier knowing but staring at her curiously. 

 "She left him" she said, her voice quietening "she left him because he was never there." 

 Geralt stared at her, figuring out what she was trying to say. The way her posture had changed and the way she had cowered in on herself allowed him to understand.

 "Your parents" he said out loud. Y/n's head whipped round to his direction, meeting his eyes. 

 "Yes. My mother left my god forsaken awful Father" she said "and me"

 "I'm sorry-" Jaskier started. "Don't be" she glared at him. 

"She was a coward and he was an asshole" Geralt was unsure for the first time ever what to say. He wasn't good with emotions especially other people's emotions. He didn't want to say the wrong thing and upset her. 

 "I met her" he spoke up. Y/n stared at him once again, speechless. "She paid me" 

 "For what? To kill a monster because once again she was too much of a coward?" Y/n spat a new spiteful side revealing itself. 

 "No. To take you away from there." He said plainly. This was the explanation y/n had been waiting for since she had been traveling with the Wicther after he turned up one day stating he had to protect her. 

 She had always assumed it was her Father who had given him the job of getting her out of the kingdom when the war started. Her father had said it was no place for a princess to be, one of the only good thing he had ever done was letting her leave win the Witcher. 

 She never knew it was because of her mother that the Witcher was actually there "Oh" she replied, in somewhat shock. 

 "She wanted you out of there, war or no war." Geralt said. 

"Wait, you're a princess?" Jaskier spoke in shock. Both Y/n and Geralt momentarily forgot he was there, turning to see Jaskier jaw dropped open in surprise. "I've been- I've been travelling with a princess- talking to a princess-"

 "Jaskier" Geralt spoke "not so loud out here in the open." Conscious of their surrounding he scanned the area briefly. 

 "Let's just keep moving" y/n spoke "we can talk about it later". 

 "So we established that Y/n will never fall in love but has the mighty Witcher or Rivia ever fallen in love" Jaskier asked changing the subject only a little. Geralt gave him a stern look before answering quickly and shortly. 

 "No" 

 "Not even once in your whole entire life time?" Jaskier asked. 

 "No" Geralt spoke again, clearly bored with the conversation. 

 "Witchers don't feel anything" y/n spoke. "Can confirm that" she whispered the last part under her breath but Gedalt still heard, but turned a blind eye to it.

 "Well if neither of you don't believe in love than you sound perfect for each other" Jaskier said, oblivious to the silence and roaming thoughts he had created inside both of their heads with his simple words. 

 The two of them dared not to look at each other, awkwardness falling upon them as they silently follow Jaskier. A cloud of thought running through Y/n's mind.

 Would she be sad if she ever had to leave Geralt? Yes. Would she be sad if Geralt fell in love with someone who was not herself? Yes. It was all starting to make sense. The way she felt under his stare, his brief touches. How she always felt queasy when Geralt spent the night with a woman in a inn room and she was left by herself. Shit. It was all falling into perfect sense. She liked him.

 She liked the Wicther who did not feel anything. The man who barely spoke to her. The person who never seemed to care. 

 Similar thoughts were going through Geralts mind. Why he always felt so angry when Jaskier would talk to y/n, taking all her attention with him. How he would always feel that little bit more protective over her when anything or anyone even came near her. If explained why his heart skipped every time she mentioned that she didn't want to be traveling around all her life, a hint at the fact she would have to leave at some point. Maybe even return to her kingdom if the war was won. 

 "A village" Jaskier spoke excitedly. Geralt looked up, briefly glancing at Y/n, seeing she was already looking at him in question. He looked away quickly before getting off his horse and walking further into the village. 

 People stared. Villagers stopped still, pointing, gossiping, watching them with caution and hostile glances. An inn was up ahead of them, not too far into the village. They could get some food and drink their, maybe even a bed each for the night.

 ----------------------------

  "Do you have three beds for the night?" Jaskier asked the inn keeper politely. "We've been travelling a while" The inn keeper stared at them before his eyes landed on Geralts, eyes narrowing slightly. 

 "Two" the inn keeper spoke cautiously. "We have two beds" 

 "That's fine"y/n spoke as Jaskier began to protest. 

"Thank you Sir" No one spoke about the bed situation, leaving it for a later problem. Instead they were all too focused on getting food, sitting in a corner of the inn waiting with baited breaths and silence. 

"So, Jaskier" y/n spoke. "Have you ever been in love?" She threw his question back at him, watching as the bard blushed. 

 "Uh- well" 

 "He falls in love every night he spends with a different woman" Geralt spoke. Y/n let out a laugh as Jaskier glared at the Witcher. 

 "I do not" he defended himself. He looked at the two of them seeing how neither of them seemed to believe him. "Okay, so maybe sometimes i do. But not all of them" he admitted. 

 "A bard that gets around. So how many?" Y/n asked in curiosity. She watched as he blushed once again. 

 "I'm not telling you that-" 

 "7" Geralt spoke. 

 "Actually it's 8 but- hey!" Jaskier said realising what just happened. 

"Okay mr Witcher what about you"

 "Too many to count Bard" he huffed, smirking at him. 

 "So like a hundred?" Jaskier asked, but only received a look. "More than that!" He exclaimed, his jaw dropping again. Y/n was silent hoping the question wouldn't turn to her.

 But of course Jaskier being the curious person he was asked her. 

 "What about you?" Jaskier said, meeting her eyes. She frowned at him, before looking to Geralt for help, but she found he was looking at her too, his stare intense. 

 "Well- I've lived in a castle, surrounded by guards for my whole life so that would be zero".

 "What!" Came Jaskiers reply first "you mean, you mean you've never?" She glared at him for bringing attention to it. Shaking her head through the blush that coated her cheeks, gaze flickering to stare at the table. She could feel his stare still on her, but she dared not to meet his eyes. 

 "Sorry y/n" Jaskier spoke "I shouldn't have asked you, I didn't mean to make you feel-" 

 "It's fine, I asked you first" she said. They were silent, no one knowing what to say. It was broken when the inn keeper came over, bring 3 bowls of hot stew and rolls of bread, the three of them thanking him gratefully. 

 They finished their food quickly, relishing in the warmth of the meal. It was only when they were finished that Y/n finally spared a look at Geralt, meeting his eyes and finding he was already watching her, his lip caught between his teeth. He didn't look away, not backing down from her gaze. 

 Y/n gave in, quickly looking away and engaging in conversation with Jaskier.

 "I'm going to sleep" Geralt spoke standing up. "Jaskier, you take the other room" he spoke chucking him the key on the table. “Y/n you share my room, I'll take the floor".   

"She can share mine-" Jaskier spoke. 

 "No" he said bluntly as he turned to leave. The two of them watched him retreat away to the door, silent for a quick moment before Jaskier turned to her with a shit eating grin.

 "You don't see the way he looks at you do you?" Jaskier asked. 

 "What do you mean by that?" Y/n replied, confused.

 "He wants you." he spoke, voice teasing him, y/n lightly hit his arm.

 "Stop playing" she said. 

 "I'm not. That man” he spoke gesturing to where Geralt had disappeared to “wants to fuck you" Jaskier smirked.

Y/n was staring at the door the Witcher had gone through just moments ago, Jaskiers words burning into her head. How was she meant to face him now?

TAGS: @sdavid09​ @c-s-stars @bitcheswithbrokenhearts​ @fandomhell97​ @flowercrownsandmetallicarms​ @tdntu0​ @soulmatelove96​ @saelwen-the-shy-elf​ @momc95​ @kingniazx​ @diab1a​ @whatanicepanohthatsjustme​ @marvels-gurl​

#Geralt imagine #Geralt of rivia imagine #the Witcher imagine #Witcher imagine #Geralt x reader #Geralt smut #geralt fanfic #Witcher smut #Witcher fanfic #the Witcher fanfic #jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 2 (Elriel)

As promised, it’s in Azriel’s POV which was actually super hard for me to write for some reason. Don’t ask why it’s in first person when Elain’s isn’t. Just go with it I’m so tired.

I LOVED reading the comments on the last post they brought the biggest smile to my face so thank you all so much for the love!

Part 3

______________________________________________________________

~Azriel~

At first, I’d thought it was just attraction.

I mean, it was inevitable. She'd shown up in the middle of the night, dressed in a thin, rose-colored robe that did absolutely nothing to hide the curves underneath, smiling at me like I don’t deserve to be smiled at.

It was obvious I’d be attracted to her.

But it was also different. 

Because usually, when I’m attracted to a woman, I go after her and get her out of my system the old fashioned way. But with Elain Archeron... it’s somehow more than that. 

Don’t get confused, I’d be more than happy to have her under me. Or on top of me. Or trapped between me and a wall. 

But I also crave her smile, her laugh. Her blush. 

Fuck, I love that blush. 

The woman turns red at any sort of innuendo, like she’s never been flirted with before. At least not properly. 

I’m damn near addicted to it. 

Which might explain why I’ve developed a routine in the week after moving into my apartment. I get up and get ready, walk with her to work, fight the temptation to go across the street and kiss her stupid, then walk with her home. 

It’s only a total of ten minutes together a day, but it's enough to drive me fucking crazy. 

Crazy enough to do it over and over again, just like I am right now. 

I knock on the door to her shop, keeping my unspoken vow to never go in the flower-infested place. 

“Hey,” she says with a grin as she comes down to meet me, locking the glass door behind her. “How was work?”

“Well, a three-hundred pound man got a tattoo of a raccoon on his back. Shit took three hours and was bigger than in real life.” She giggles, and my lips twitch at the sight. “You?”

“I sold a lot of bouquets, since it’s wedding season. Nothing special.”

We start the short walk back to our apartment complex, walking close enough that our arms occasionally brush. The feel of her soft skin on mine has me gritting my teeth, and we’re still four minutes out. Fuck.

Elain shivers slightly, and since it isn’t cold, I take it to mean I’m not the only one affected. I could be a gentleman and let the reaction go, but... 

“Are you cold?”

Soft brown eyes meet mine, and there’s a bit of surprise in them. “No.”

“You sure? You shivered.” 

Those eyes narrow slightly, well on to the game I’m playing. “I’m sure.”

I can’t stop the smirk from forming on my face, but she just sighs and turns straight forward again. 

“Any plans for the weekend?”

I’m practically baiting her into saying she’s doing something with her boyfriend, even though I doubt that’ll be the case. I haven’t so much as seen the guy around the entire week. 

If I were him-

No. We’re not going there. 

“Not really, actually. I might go to the MOMA.”

It’s easy to picture her in a museum, staring adoringly at overpriced pieces of art a child could probably recreate. “Art fan?”

“Not really. My sister has an exhibit this week and wants me to come. I like her art, but she’s the exception.”

For some reason, this makes me smile. “Nothing’s good enough to impress you?”

Her eyes narrow in the cute way they always do when I tease her, and she says, “Nothing makes me feel anything. Art should make you feel something. Right?”

Is she seriously asking me that? “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a museum.”

Elain stops walking suddenly, and I turn to face her with raised brows. “Ever? You’ve never been to a museum?”

I shake my head, confused as to why she’s confused. Is that not normal?

“What about on school trips?”

Oh. 

That explains it. 

I turn and keep walking, knowing she’ll catch up in a second. When she does, I say, “Maybe my school was low on field trip funds or something.”

The lie tastes like dirt in my mouth, so I light a cigarette to wash it down. 

She rolls her eyes like she knows I’m full of shit and keeps walking. 

“You look beautiful today, Elain.” 

Her cheeks go pink at the words, and the urge to punch her boyfriend grows. If a woman blushes every single time someone calls her beautiful, she probably doesn’t hear it enough. 

And I know I tell her everyday, but it’s especially true today. She’s in one of her probably hundred dresses, and it’s tighter around the waist and loose around the bottom. 

I think it was designed just for her.

Or maybe just to drive me insane. Either theory works. 

Her hair’s down, framing the soft features I’m disgustingly obsessed with, and there’s a pink tone to her full lips. She looks like a goddamn flower. 

I hate flowers, I remind myself helplessly. 

We keep walking, and I’m so focused on thinking about anything except the way that pretty little dress swishes around her thighs that I don’t even realize we’re back at the complex. 

I open the door for her, and she goes inside but waits before heading up the stairs. 

“What are you doing?”

Her cheeks go a bit more red, even as her eyes narrow. “I’m wearing a dress. You go up first.”

“Elain Archeron,” I scold instantly, mood brightening already, “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of trying to look up your dress.” 

I probably would’ve, but that’s another point entirely. 

She bites her lip, and my blood starts to thrum. “I didn’t say that, actually.”

“Oh, I see. You just want to look at my ass, then.”

A laugh bubbles out of her, and I take mercy and head up the stairs, pausing once every now and then to shake my butt in her face. 

“You’re a child,” she laughs, pushing my back to make me go forward again. 

I’m laughing, too by the time we make it to the hallway with our apartments. But the joy falls away as we stand outside, both nervously silent. It feels like the end of a date, for some reason. 

Maybe because we were laughing and smiling and flirting. Maybe. 

“What’s your name?” she asks, exactly like she always does. 

Fucking unable to help it, I lean in close enough our noses brush, smiling when she sucks in a breath. “You ready to pay the price?”

Every day it’s the same response. She usually shies away, rolls her eyes, and drops it, but today she surprises me. “What’s the price, exactly?”

Her voice is a little scratchy, and her legs are tense, like she’s pressing them together. For a moment, I can’t even breathe, let alone tell her. She looks so adorably naive and beautiful right now. It’s hard to focus on anything except the heaving of her chest, the lip tucked between her teeth. 

Bu it’s the raw desire in her eyes that makes me finally respond. “I want you to give in. I want you to kiss me like I know you’re dying to. I want you to admit that it’s me that turns you on, me who you think about at night.”

Her breathing’s rougher now, and it ignites a fire in my blood. “I want you to tell me you want me, Elain. Because we both know you do.”

“I...”

Fucking hell, she’s going to kill me. I’m desperate to hear the words, so when I speak, it sounds like a plea. “Say it.”

But something comes over her, and the cloudiness sweeps from her eyes instantly. She takes a deep breath and places a palm against my chest to shove me away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a boyfriend.”

Her favorite thing to say, apparently. 

“I love him,” Elain says with strong, fake conviction. “I... I don’t want you.”

A harsh laugh forces itself out of my throat. “Beautiful little liar.”

Her cheeks go pink, and I smile in spite of the tense conversation. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are, but that’s okay. I get it.” Before I can stop myself, I’m moving to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “But I’m not telling you my name until you stop.”

Before she can respond, the door behind her swings open, revealing a man instantly recognizable as the boyfriend. He’s in a disgustingly cheap suit, about 5′11 with red hair and golden brown eyes with his hair pulled back in a low bun.

I automatically want to punch him for some reason, but I deny myself the satisfaction. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, glancing between me and Elain. There’s something in his voice, but it’s not suspicion. It’s surprise. Like he can’t even fathom the idea of seeing her with another man. 

Fucking idiot. 

A woman like her is always going to get male--and probably female--attention. 

“Nothing,” Elain says instantly, taking a step towards him. “This is our neighbor. He moved in Monday.”

“Oh. Hey, man. I’m Lucien.”

I ignore his outstretched hand. “The boyfriend?”

A bit of the friendliness leaves his eyes, and he pulls Elain to him and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “The boyfriend.”

“How exciting,” I mock, sounding like a total prick. I don’t really mean to, but I can’t help it. I mean, this is the guy she’s with? Objectively, I’m man enough to admit he isn’t exactly ugly, but he sounds about as interesting as a can of beans. 

He probably works a desk job. Something in finance. 

And he has Elain? 

It makes no sense. 

Lucien The Boyfriend ignores that statement and looks down at Elain. “I missed you this week,” he mutters before pressing a quick, grossly wet kiss to her lips. 

The surprise in her eyes makes it clear he’s not usually so... affectionate. 

I have to cough to hide a laugh. 

He’s trying to mark his territory, but if he actually looked at his girlfriend’s face, he could easily see how stupid it looked. 

“Have a nice night, lovebirds,” I say sarcastically as I unlock my door, still chuckling to myself. If he kisses her like that, gods know how he fucks her. 

Poor woman. 

~Elain~

Well, that was uncomfortable. 

And embarrassing. 

The little laugh her neighbor had barely attempted to hide made her skin burn. Lucien wasn’t a bad kisser, but neither of them had really been ready for his sudden display of affection. 

Plus, it’s not like the man had tried to hide his reason for kissing her. They hardly ever touched in public. 

Or at home, really. 

It’d been three weeks since they’d slept together, so she knew the kiss was for their audience’s benefit. 

She ignored the gross feeling inside her gut and went to the kitchen to start dinner. 

“That guy’s rude,” Lucien commented, sliding on a bar stool and loosening his tie. “And he looks like a drug dealer.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost overpowering. He thinks anyone with tattoos is a drug dealer. “He’s nice.”

“So you’ve met before?”

Elain sighed, not knowing how to answer this. “Sort of. He works at the tattoo place across the street, so I bump into him some. I don’t even know his name, though.”

Why was she lying? 

I bump into him? 

Seriously? 

She’d walked with him every day this week. And thought about him all the time. 

Not to mention tonight, when she’d been a second away from finally finding out what his mouth felt like against hers, what it tasted like. 

Gods, just the thought of that encounter made her sweat. 

He knew exactly what he was doing to her. 

And her mind knew, knew, he was dangerous and might very well be involved in all sorts of illegal activities, but her body didn’t give a single shit. 

She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone before. 

But that was just attraction. What she had with Lucien, that was love. A lifelong, everlasting love. Right?

She slid the plate of reheated chicken and rice in front of her boyfriend and muttered, “I’m going to shower.”

He nodded, not even looking up. 

Two hours later, they were watching a movie in bed, neither of them paying much attention to the screen. There had been a tension between them ever since the weird kissing incident. 

She wasn’t mad, but it had just made her feel a little strange. 

He seemed to notice it, too.

“I love you,” Lucien whispered quietly, rolling on his side to look down at her. “I know things have been weird recently, and I’m sorry. I’m just stressed at work, but I don’t need to bring that home with me. I just... I love you. You know that right?”

She nodded immediately. “I know. It’s okay. I love you, too.”

A small smile on his face, he leaned down to her and kissed her. There was no awkwardness now, thank the gods. 

She thought he’d pull away like usual, but he tilted his head and took it deeper, sliding his tongue in her mouth.

Surprised, she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Something in the back of her mind was hatefully muttering that he was only doing this because of their neighbor, but her body didn’t really mind. It had been weeks, and just being touched made her happy.

Supporting himself on his elbows, he came over her, resting in between her thighs. A hand snuck down and tugged her robe open, then she heard his belt buckle open.

Normally she’d want to take things slower and draw it out, but she didn’t mind tonight. Her body needed him and whatever contact it could get.

A few moments of shuffling, then he pressed against her, and she gasped as he immediately started to move. Okay, maybe a little more drawing it out would have been helpful. 

Her hips moved with him, trying to keep up with his increasing pace. Lucien grunted in her ear, breath hot on her neck. 

It was too much too soon, and he seemed to sense that. His hand came to her breasts, and she moaned softly as he molded one to his touch.

The sound seem to affect him, and he stilled above her, then kissed her deeply.

Elain laid underneath him, heart racing, and tried not to raise an eyebrow. Or laugh. Or cry. 

That was it? The first time they had sex in almost a month, and that was it?

He pulled out slowly, kissed her brow, and rolled over. Her mouth dropped open.

He wasn’t even going to make sure she finished? Because she sure as hell hadn’t. And more than that, he rolled away from her?

They didn’t always have great sex, but it was usually better than that. And he always held her afterward until she fell asleep.

She felt cheap. Used.

Definitely unsatisfied.

Now more than ever, it felt like they were fifty years old. She made him dinners and kept the apartment clean, he worked a desk job at an investment bank, they came home, barely talked, then had unremarkable sex.

She’d known for a while they were in a slump, but now it seemed like it was a permanent thing. 

After waiting until he started snoring soundly, she slipped a hand between her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension.

Gods, that had been awful.

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe it was because she was so worked up from...

Her neighbor’s smirking face popped into her mind. The ache between her legs got worse, and she moaned as she slipped a finger inside herself.

Sitting up suddenly, she pushed his face out of her head. This was wrong.

She couldn’t... fantasize about another man while in the same bed as her boyfriend.

Elain threw her robe on the ground and walked to the shower, ignoring the fact that she’d already taken one tonight. She’d wash this night away and forget about it.

But he appeared in her mind again, shaking his head with a smile. That’s not possible, beautiful.

Hard to forget someone when they were mentally stalking you.

~

The next morning, Lucien was gone before she even dragged herself out of bed. She was technically late, but she didn’t even care. Perk of being her own boss. 

Elain trudged around, getting ready slowly. It had been a long night. Even after her very cold shower, she hadn’t been able to clear her mind and relax. 

When she opened the door, she couldn’t repress her groan. Apparently, his face was stalking him in her head and real life.

“Long night?” he asked, a small, almost victorious smile on his face.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at that expression. She knew him well enough to know he was trying not to laugh. “Yes.”

“Same. Noisy neighbors.”

It took a few moments, but a furious blush exploded on her face as she realized what he was talking about. She knew the walls were thin, but... “Oh, my gods.”

He’d heard!

Oh, gods.

This was really, really bad. 

“Have fun?”

She glared at his annoyingly handsome face, barely resisting the urge to punch that smile away. “Yes. So much fun.”

She was, in fact, a dirty little liar. 

“Mmhm, sounded like it. All three minutes of it.”

An indignant sound escaped her, and he started to laugh. She ignored how lovely the sound was and chanted, “Shut up shut up shut up.”

“Not a chance.” He glanced down at her legs. “Hey, do you need help waking there? Or are you too sore from all that terrible se-”

She slapped a hand over his mouth, and he smiled under her fingers.

“You’re such an asshole,” she told him. “I love him. And he’s a great lover.”

The asshole just raised an eyebrow.

“Usually,” she amended. “He was tired.”

Gently, he pried her hand off his face. “I could be in a coma and do better than three minutes.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal. And beyond disturbing.”

He smiled. “We going to work?”

Elain glared. “Only if you promise not to make any more comments about my sex life.”

“I haven’t made a single one!” He protested, still smirking. “I’ve been joking about the lack of your sex life, baby girl. Keep up.”

“Oh my gods,” she growled, pushing past him and yanking her door shut.

“At first, I didn’t even know what you guys were doing,” he told her, walking easily beside her as she stormed down the stairs and started down the empty sidewalk. “I heard his weird ass grunt and thought he was working out or something.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But then I heard you moan, and I-”

“I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“Anyway, I heard the boyfriend start snoring, so I figured the debacle was over. But I heard you again.” He smirked down at her. “Wanna tell me what you were doing over there?”

From the look on his face, he knew damn well what she was doing. “You-”

“No, I know you weren’t doing me. Would’ve been a lot louder if you were.”

Her glare could’ve frozen the Sahara. “I was going to say that you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

The man just smiled, more than happy with himself today. Gods, he was insufferable. “I might be annoying, but at least I last longer than your little boyfriend.”

The way he said that made her jaw clench. What was it with the men in her life being completely useless today? It pissed her off. “Oh, I seriously doubt it.”

A dark, almost promising look crept into his hazel eyes, and he leaned down to murmur, “I promise you one thing, Elain. If I had you under me, I wouldn’t stop until you were screaming my name. Maybe not even then.”

She didn’t bother pointing out she didn’t even know his name.

Then he pulled away and smiled, and she noticed they were in front of her store. “Have a nice day, gorgeous.”

She was so fucked. 

_____________________________________________________________

To all my Lucien stands, I don’t really believe he’s complete shit in the sack (yes, yes I do), but I’m trying to write a story here, okay?

Part 3

@astreia-oniria @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @wineywitch202 @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @bamchickawowow @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #azriel #elain #elain archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #bat boys #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #illyrians

[whumpcollector]

Project CHIMERA Pt.1: A New Age

Hey everyone. I’ve had this little project stewing for a long while. I’m experimenting with the writing style and such so please give me any feedback you have! (Also formatting this thing has been a nightmare so if anything comes off as difficult to read please lmk and ill fix it)

TW: Dehumanization. Themes of imperialism. Descriptions of blood and injury.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 1

Date: Celendor 3, 991

It is a glorious day. Truly it is. Today marks the beginning of project CHIMERA. I have been assigned to lead this project by Emperor Vystlat himself, an honor I intend to prove myself worthy of. The equipment is still being set up and the facility brought to full function, but within the week we will be able to begin the production of the first batch of clones. All going well we will have our first subjects by the end of Celendor.This will be a new age for the empire.

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Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 4

Date: Celendor 12, 991

The first batch of clones are growing better than anticipated. Within two days they have already passed the embryonic stages and have reached infancy. If this rate continues they will be juveniles within three days at most, and we will be able to begin the initial stages of CHIMERA ahead of schedule. This is better than I ever could have hoped for. Soon the need for the empire’s children to die in order to spread our prosperity will be gone. Soon, the glory of the empire will go uncontested.

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                                   ---Security Clearance Level: 5---

Official Report of Progress: Project CHIMERA

Date: Celendor 12, 991

My glorious Emperor Vystalt,I am more than pleased to report that project CHIMERA’s progress has been greater than I ever anticipated. The first batch of clones have reached the juvenile stage and are being awoken as I write this report. After a day of acclimation we will be able to begin their training. Initial physiological tests have revealed that cell growth rates and immune system responses are greatly enhanced compared to the average human’s. With further research we may be able to adapt these properties to other medical fields. While I do not wish to get ahead of myself, the prospective avenues of research are truly promising.

I shall personally inform you of any and all major developments.

May our glory shine upon the world,

-Dr.Archimedes Yarru

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Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 6

Date: Celendor 13, 991

It appears that our genetic manipulation has worked a bit...too well. These clones are not the blank slates that we had anticipated, but have managed to develop personalities during their time in incubation. The good news is that the information we imprinted them with during the incubation phase has stuck as well. We won’t need to teach them the basics. In theory their training can continue as normal, but some issues have reared their ugly heads. We are already receiving resistance to the idea of training from some of the subjects, and an alarming amount of them have developed dispositions that aren’t exactly compatible with being a soldier. Still, this is a minor setback at most and I have been assured by the training staff that things will progress as intended. I hope they know what they’re doing, but the emperor chose them personally so they must be good at their job.

Despite this hiccup I can’t help but be hopeful for the future. Every other aspect of CHIMERA has gone off without a hitch. I’m already seeing promising results from my initial tests of the clone’s blood and muscle cells. I will have to study them closer to get better results, but that will come in time.

Damn it's been 22 hours since I last slept. I should probably do that now.

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Celendor-15-991

To: allstaff

Subject: Plans going forward and clarification of CHIMERA details

It has come to my attention that there has been some confusion throughout the staff, both due to the unforeseen personalities of the clones and with general project protocol. Allow me to rectify these issues here.

[1] The classification of all subjects are as follows. Please remember this to avoid any failures of communication in the future.

Stage gamma: Subjects in the initial stages of testing. They will physically resemble adolescents, generally ages 12-15.

Stage beta: Subjects that are through initial training stages and have been curated into specified roles to receive specialized training. They will also reach physical maturity, resembling 20-22 year olds before their biological development and aging slows.

Stage alpha: Subjects that have finished training and are capable of being sent into the field.

Note: The ages attached to each stage are to provide a reference point to help identify subjects at a glance. Subject’s early rapid aging and the subsequent cessation of said aging makes any attempts at estimating age past a certain point futile. Please refrain from doing so

Addendum: This also means that there will be no attempts at assigning or recognizing birthdays. Yes Arthur, we mean you. Sate your addiction to cake on your own time

[2] Despite the unintended development of personality within subjects all current training protocols and methods will be utilized. The head of the training staff has asked that I pass along this message 

    *[While I understand that these new developments may be difficult to handle for some of you, it is imperative to remember that these clones are not people. They are more akin to automatons or even puppets. There will likely be many attempts to resist our training, do not waver. These clones are meant to be the bulwark of the empire. They need to be forged and tempered into weapons of war. If that requires us to break them first we must accept that. Use a heavy hand, accept not disobedience, and do whatever it takes to ensure the compliance of the clones.

                                                                                            Taskmaster Grestin]

[3] Remember that project CHIMERA is still in experimental phases. The genetic makeup, physiology, and even mental development and reception to training will vary from batch to batch and even subject to subject. Adapting to such differences will be crucial to ensuring progress of the project. If you happen to notice any abnormal physiological phenomena or behavioral anomalies please report to me. While these subjects are meant to be made into soldiers for the empire they also provide a plethora of opportunities for other fields of research. Within that vein, please refrain from killing the subjects. I understand that taskmaster Grestin’s previous statement emphasizes the importance of discipline but please, do show some restraint when possible. Creating these subjects is currently an expensive and, quite frankly, unreliable process despite our initial success. There is a reason this first batch only consists of 10 subjects. Please do not lower that number.  

                                                                                        -Dr. Archimedes Yarru

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 9

Date: Celendor 19, 991

Well Grestin has definitely earned the title taskmaster. I get that any training intended to produce super soldiers is going to be intense but, damn. I’m almost worried that she’ll kill the subjects long before they get into stage beta. Hopefully I’m just being overly anxious. I trust that Grestin won’t push them too harshly too quickly.

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

Medical Report: Subject Gamma-A-8

Date of Admission: Celendor-20-991

Subject Gamma-A-8 was submitted to the facility infirmary at 8:26 AM on the 20th of month Celendor, year 991 by staff member Jules Armidin. Subject Gamma-A-8 was admitted due to severe injury and physical exhaustion. A complete list of afflictions has been attached to the report.

After initial treatments Subject Gamma-A-8 has been stabilized and is currently recovering. It is estimated the subject will be fully recovered within 10-14 days with no long term injuries or afflictions.

Attached - Trauma_Report_GAMMMAA8   

[ Subject Gamma-A-8

Muscle tearing located in the left and right biceps, triceps, and pectorals

Hairline fractures located in the left ulna, left and right radius, and sternum

Compound fracture located at the tibia

Eye spasms indicative of long term sleep deprivation Mild concussion

General bruising located across the arms, legs, and abdomen

Lacerations across the back                                                       ]

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Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 10

Date: Celendor 20, 991

At least the subject didn’t die. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr Yarru’s Personal Log.

Entry 11

Date: Celendor 21, 991

Well if anything at least I have been able to study how the subject’s body responds to physiological trauma. The results are nothing short of remarkable. Almost all of the major injuries have been healed to the point of not impairing the body's functions, including bone fractures. I was as shocked as the doctors when a compound fracture seemingly mended itself overnight. It hasn’t fully healed, but the subject is capable of moving the leg to a degree, which is still nothing short of amazing. Accelerated Healing was something that was coded into their base genetics but this is more than what we could have ever expected.

I wonder if this trait is shared by all subjects or if Gamma-A-8 is a special case. Perhaps Grestin’s methods will prove fruitful in more ways than one.

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Dr Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 14

Date: Celendor 28, 991

It has been less than one month since the beginning of project CHIMERA and the results are already beyond my wildest dreams. Despite my initial reservations almost every subject has taken to the training regimen, no doubt due to Grestin’s expertise.

Note to self: Don’t piss her off

Subject Gamma-A-8 has had a difficult time keeping up with the other subjects. Despite the subject’s remarkable natural healing it seems unable to match the raw strength and speed the other subjects possess. I am hopeful that it will be able to catch up, or at least be able to function adequately in whatever role it is assigned. If not, well, 90% success rate is still more than acceptable given the circumstances.

I feel as if I have gathered as much data as I can working on the peripheries. Blood samples and medical reports are all well and good but they can only get me so far. I haven’t had a chance to interact with any of the subjects thus far. I think it's about time that I change that.

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Tags: @haro-whumps @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

#whump #sci fi whump #dehumanization #Dr. Yarru