#I’m not ignoring I just get overwhelmed so easily and panic and then ghost

[deathgod-ben]

rereading old fics I’ve written, made me realized how much I progress during the years. But also how much worse I became when I stopped writing constantly for 2 years

#shitpost #aaaaa lil rant time #I’ll answer the asks tomorrow 😭 #I’m not ignoring I just get overwhelmed so easily and panic and then ghost

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where bridges start to mend. And Felix (like usual) holds the glue.

Or PART II of the fourteenth installment of the SKZ!pack Prequel Series.

Tags: SKZ, SKZ Drabble, Stay, Stray Kids, OT8, SKz!pack, skz!abo, Poly!skz, omegaverse, skz x you, skz x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, yang jeongin, kim seungmin, y/n, skz fluff, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz angst

Genre: Light Angst, Fluff

Title: Sleepless in Seattle (Seoul Style) Part II

Getting Hyunjin down to Felix’s dorm is a struggle, to say the least.

Luckily, you don’t even need to try to get the barely conscious omega to walk on his own, because Changbin sweeps him up and carries him easily, leaving your only job to open doors and summon the elevator. 

Changbin makes short haste of the trip, short legs moving at a surprisingly quick pace, which leaves you and Chan to trail behind. 

You do your best to ignore the other alpha, but it’s not easy, considering all you can smell is that damned scent of rain. 

It makes you want to choke. 

Changbin waits for approximately two seconds for the elevator before he’s turning to the two of you impatiently and saying gruffly, “This is taking too long. I’m taking the stairs,” and promptly disappears from view down the adjacent stairwell. 

You sigh, rubbing at your forehead, deciding whether to follow after him, when the elevator beeps, signaling its imminent arrival, and Chan is already holding open the door for you, watching you expectantly. 

Fuck, there are so many other things you’d rather do than spend a 45 second elevator ride alone with Christopher Bang-namely gouging out your eyes with a rusty spork, or braving Minho’s unending wrath by guessing his cats’ names wrong-but you’re still here, standing, and he’s still here, waiting with that expectant look on his face, and there’s nothing else to do but step into the elevator. 

You regret it as soon as the doors close. 

The smell of impending thunderstorm is overwhelming. 

You swallow and try to focus on anything but the other alpha. 

Elevator buttons just became a whole lot more interesting. 

Chan clears his throat, and you clench your hands into fists at your side. 

“Look, I feel like I need to apologize-” He starts, and you immediately feel panic well into your throat, bitter and vile. 

“You really don’t-” You plow him over, desperate for him to just stop talking. 

God, does it really take this long to get to the next floor? 

“No, I really do.” Chan says with finality, and you stare at the ceiling with abject despair, because honestly, it’d be just your luck for the elevator to give up the ghost right now, leaving the two of you stranded for hours with nothing to talk about but feelings and apologies, waiting for the fire department to come and rescue you.

You might just die if that were to happen.

Luckily, the elevator signals the arrival to the lower floor at that moment, and the doors swoosh open before Chan has a chance to say anything else. 

“Oh look, Felix’s floor. Let’s go!” 

You’ve never exited an elevator so rapidly in your entire life. 

Felix’s dorm door is already ajar, and you pause for a moment on the threshold, readying yourself for the absolute wave of scent that’s going to hit you the moment you step inside. 

One omega in heat is rough, two is going to be absolute hell. 

You feel more than see Chan appear at your shoulder, and hear him take in a deep breath through his teeth. 

Taking in a breath of your own, you step through the doorway. 

A cacophony of lemon and orange assaults you instantly, and your wolf howls-long and low and desperate-and shit, before you can lose all control entirely, you reach up to cover your nose with your palm. 

It smells so much like Felix in here that you’re sure you’re drooling. 

And Hyunjin’s suddenly strengthened scent isn’t helping much. 

Chan swallows thickly. 

“Where’s Changbin?” 

You glance over your shoulder at him, and once again, as if he’s been summoned by the mere mention of his name, the other alpha appears, exiting Felix’s bedroom, Hyunjin’s arm slung around his waist for support. 

Your boyfriend looks better now-probably Felix’s doing, omegas need each other when they’re simultaneously in heat-more alert and a little more like himself, though he’s still drawn and entirely too pale and weak for your liking. 

Your wolf growls protectively as he stumbles slightly and Changbin holds him up. 

And then the fragrance of sweet honey hits your senses in a cloud-tinged with the milder, less noticeable smell of leaking slick-and your throat tightens, teeth suddenly aching as saliva pools beneath your tongue. 

“Bin-” You cough out, still covering your nose slightly. 

The other alpha glances at you, and you’re not quite sure how he’s remaining so stoic in the face of two omegas in heat. He’s a stronger man than you are. 

“Felix is bad. He’s on day two and he needs an alpha. Now.” 

Hyunjin whimpers at the sound of Felix’s name and sags in Changbin’s grip a bit more. 

“Binnie. It hurts.” 

Changbin glances at him, reaching up to carefully card dampened blonde bangs out of his eyes with a soft look. 

“I know, baby. Hang on just one more minute for alpha and then I’ll make it all better okay?” 

Hyunjin nods reluctantly and curls into his side, hands covering his stomach as the cramping grows stronger.

Changbin fixes his gaze back on the two of you once more, eyes dark and expression grim. 

“He wants you.” 

Your wolf preens under the attention and the idea that Felix had asked for you specifically. 

Changbin settles his gaze onto Chan. 

“He wants both of you.” 

Your mind grinds to a screeching halt, your wolf snarling and clawing at your insides, immediately at the defensive, even as Chan clears his throat anxiously beside you.

“I don’t know if that’s a good-” 

“Why the fuck would he ask for him?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, your voice rising with anger and emotion, and Hyunjin whines and buries his face in Changbin’s chest as if your voice is physically hurting him. 

Changbin stares you down pointedly, arms going tighter around the cowering omega at his side. 

“I don’t know. But that’s what he said.” He holds your gaze sternly, lips curling back to reveal his teeth, and when he speaks again, his commanding tone has dropped into alpha territory, little more than a growl. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they’re both going to need to be knotted soon. So whatever asinine little competition you have going on between the two of you, Figure. It. Out.” 

Everything inside of you goes ice cold, freezes to a stop entirely.

Changbin straightens, pulling Hyunjin gently up with him. 

“I’ll take care of Jinnie. Handle Felix. When everything’s said and done, we’ll run them a bath in the common bathroom and then get them settled back in their nest together. Understood?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning to head down the hall to Felix’s small bathroom, carefully directing Hyunjin with a gentle palm in the middle of his back. 

They disappear from view and the sound of a door closing seals your fate. 

The smell of lemons slowly fades, as does the pulsing ache in your jaw. 

Beside you, Chan sighs. 

“Okay, so how do we do this?” 

You clench your hands into fists at your sides and grind your teeth for a moment of silence, trying to calm your irritated, furious alpha before you speak. 

It’s not much use. 

“Felix wants us both. You heard that part, right?” Your reply is short, biting, as if you’re goading him slightly, because you know for certain he did indeed hear that part.  “And I don’t understand, and I don’t want to, but I do know that one of my mates is in their suffering, and it’s going on the longer I stand out here, doing nothing, so I’m just gonna suck it up, and we’re gonna go in there, and do what we have to do.” 

Chan swallows again, and you want to reach a hand around his throat. 

“But what if we-” He hesitates, toeing the carpet in front of Felix’s once again closed door, and you try not to notice the way his worn pair of converse match his current nail polish. 

“What if we what?” You whirl on him, voice full of exasperation, motions reeking of irritation. 

He holds your gaze, which respect, it’s more than you would have done in the face of a pissed off, annoyed alpha. 

“What if we can’t control our instincts? What if we get too possessive? Go after each other?” 

You stare at him in open disbelief for several long moments, and then deadpan bluntly, “Then I’ll simply rip your throat out. Two of my problems solved with one stone if you will.” 

Chan stares at you for a brief moment, lips parted, as if not sure what to say, and you sigh, heavily this time, reaching up to run a hand through your hair as you ask with vexation, “C’mon, man. Don’t tell me this is your first time helping an omega through heat.” 

When the other alpha still doesn’t respond, you push forward, bating him a little, indulging in the anger, just for a moment, because it feels good to let your wolf bare its teeth, feels good to let the bubbling rage in the pit of your stomach well into something more like a threatening volcano. 

“Please. Bullshit. You seem like the typical knight in shining armor come to life-upperclassman, experienced alpha, ‘let me show you my studio, it’s entirely innocent’ type-swooping in to save little virgin omegas from their first heats, all intentions obviously completely selfless.” 

Something in Chan’s expression tweaks at your biting words, and his lips pull into a thin line. 

The scent of rain sours a bit, into something decaying, dead. 

“I don’t do things like that.” 

You can’t bring yourself to stop. 

You take a step toward the other alpha, hackles raised, dominance on display.

You let your voice drop into a stage whisper, cocking your brow at the alpha, a smirk crossing your lips.  

“C’mon, Channie. Don’t be modest. Tell me. Don’t you wanna brag about how many good little omegas have taken your knot?” 

“I don’t-” Chan takes a step to match your own, and now you’re nose to nose, his warmth breath washing across your cheekbones, the scent of rain making you dizzy. “-do that.” 

“Bullshit.” You repeat again, a hiss through your teeth now, as you drop all pretenses. “Every typical alpha I’ve ever known has been the same. Why would you be any different?” 

“Because-” Chan stops his words, popping his jaw in obvious agitation, and your wolf crows in triumph. 

Got him. 

“Why?” You press again, thoroughly enjoying watching him squirm now. 

The muscle in Chan’s jaw flickers, and you try to keep your focus on his gaze, try not to let your eyes flit down to the movement, dangerously too close to his lips. 

The thunderclouds are gathering now, dark and dangerous. 

“Because I fell in love with you, okay?”

Everything grinds to a standstill, for the second time since you entered Felix’s apartment. 

He stares at you, chest heaving, as if he’s just run a marathon, eyes large and dark, expression completely serious. 

You gape at him like a fish out of water. 

He goes on. 

“Is that what you wanted me to say?” He asks in clear exasperation, throwing his hands out, as if asking the gods above why he’s been cursed with someone like you. 

He laughs-a short, staccato, breathless sort of sound that lacks any humor-and you continue to stare at him. 

“I wasn’t that type of guy before-I was never that type of guy-but I sure as hell wouldn’t be that guy now.” He holds your gaze, his own fiery, and in this moment, you can see it, can see the alpha hidden deep within the dark depths of Chan’s eyes. Your wolf bares its throat. “I fell in love with you the moment Changbin showed me your picture, the moment I met you the first time, and Changbin? God, I’ve loved that stupid idiot ever since he first walked into my studio, ever since he showed me his first real composition.” 

Chan is breathing hard, and the storm is swirling. 

You can’t seem to tear your gaze away. 

He’s beautiful. 

He paces in the short space of Felix’s hallway, walking back and forth in front of you, tousling his hair with his fingers in an agitated movement as he talks, the curls spilling over his forehead and into his eyes. 

“And then Hyunjin-” He heaves a sigh and stops for a moment, letting his head fall back so he can stare at the ceiling. He glances at you once more, and there’s something softer in his expression now. “-did you know, the day after Changbin introduced me to all of you, Hyunjin tagged along to the studio and brought me a bottle of nail polish? Said the shade reminded him of my stupid accent or something. And then he painted my nails, right there, at the desk, while Changbin pretended not to watch from the corner of his eye, smiling the whole time.” 

You feel your breath catch in your throat, because no, you hadn’t known that. 

Hadn’t known any of it. 

Chan keeps going, resuming his pacing, and you wonder how long he’s wanted to get this off his chest. 

“I fell in love with you, and Changbin, and Hyunjin, and your whole goddamn pack, and I knew you hadn’t accepted me, not even close, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what I’d done wrong, what else I could apologize for, because you seemed-seem-to hate my guts, no matter what I try-” 

You find the courage to interrupt. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

Chan’s movements come to an abrupt halt, and he laughs again-that short, humorless chuckle that’s more like a scoff-and when he looks at you, his eyes are hard, sad. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

You feel guilt pool in the bottom of your stomach, replacing the anger. 

You glance toward Felix’s door, and then back to the alpha standing, waiting, in front of you. 

You take a step toward him, and go on. 

“I don’t hate you.” You reiterate, quieter this time, firmly, and a wave of frost starts to permeate the chill of rain. “I hate the way that Changbin introduced us, hate how he made me feel like meat on a platter.” You take in a deep, steadying breath, and slowly release your fingers from their fist, one by one. “I hate that everyone immediately loved you, hate that you disrupted the pack, hate that I feel this weird pull that I haven’t let myself explore because I don’t do that, I don’t believe in anything-fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it-that takes away someone’s free will.” 

Chan is watching you, still wary, but his expression is softening now. 

You take another step, staring at the carpet beneath your feet, the way your converse touch, just barely, the toes of his own. 

When you finally bring yourself to look up at him, you can’t help the sardonic hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

It’s all so stupid. So dumb. And yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop now that you’ve started.

“I hate your stupid accent and the way your stupid curls always look so soft. I hate that you have the exact same hoodie as Changbin that makes me just want to steal it and curl up in it and never give it back. I hate your stupid producer name-C’mon, CB97?-and the stupid raging crush Changbin has had on you for forever, even though he’ll never admit it.”

Chan smiles at that, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s there. 

You stare at the appearance of his dimple, take a deep breath, and force yourself to finish it out. 

No going back now. 

“But most of all, I hate the rain. I hate it. I’ve always hated it. The rain and thunderstorms and anything remotely related to bad weather. I’ve hated it all since childhood, and then you came into the picture, and all I could smell was the damned rain, the thing that’s made me uncomfortable, uneasy, scared, terrified, for god knows how long and your scent just-” 

Chan is staring at you still, but now his lips have pulled once more into a thin line, and he looks upset again, frustrated and guilty and angry all at once. 

“-makes you feel unsafe.” He finishes with slight defeat in his tone, hands clenched now at his sides. 

It’s your turn to laugh-humorless and higher pitched than normal and a little hysterical-and Chan looks entirely caught off guard. 

“No, that’s the thing! The thing I hate more than anything.” 

He cocks his head, and you try not to think about how much he looks like an adorable, curious puppy at this moment. 

“You make me feel safe. You! The alpha who smells like rain and thunder and everything I’ve ever been scared of, everything bad that has ever plagued me. I’ve never felt safer than I do when I’m with you, when you’re near, hell, even when you’re in the same room, I feel safe and watched out for and completely at ease. And I don’t understand it, not in the slightest, and that may just be the very thing I hate most.” Uncomfortable silence stretches for an unbearable amount of time after your confession, and you’re beginning to think that Chan might just turn on his heel and leave completely, when you feel his fingers slide underneath your chin and raise your gaze to his. 

“(Y/N).” 

“Oh god, don’t.” You groan, immediately trying to pull from his grasp at his tone, soft and tender and sweet. “I’m like Minho. I’m allergic to affection.” 

Chan chuckles, for real this time. 

“No you’re not.” 

“Ask him! It’s a real medical condition-!” You begin to protest, but before you can finish, Chan leans in and slots his lips with yours. 

It’s a short kiss-chaste and simple and very much Chan-but everything inside of you melts into warm goo at the feel of his mouth enveloping your own, and though you’d never admit it, you almost want to whine for more when he pulls away. 

He regards you for a moment, small smile pulling at his lips, and then he slides his fingers off of your jaw and steps back. 

“You’re not breaking out in hives.” 

“That you can see.” You retort back in a grumble beneath your breath, and Chan laughs at your pouting. 

“Okay, drama queen, we have an omega to take care of. But later-?” 

He leaves his question open ended, and he doesn’t need to finish, because you know exactly what he means, even if the words are unspoken. 

Your heart does a weird little triptych in your chest. 

You nod. 

“Later.” 

*********

The moment you enter Felix’s room, it steamrolls you like a train barreling down the track. 

The smell. 

God, it’s like if you were standing in an orange grove, surrounded by bakers making dozens of cookies, the vanilla and citrus marrying in the air and becoming an intoxicating cocktail that instantly has your insides clenching as soon as it hits your nose, your throat, your core. 

Behind you, Chan swallows thickly once more. 

You take a deep, steadying breath, and approach the bed on as steady legs as you can muster. 

You try your best to ignore the calls of your wolf, at least for now, the incessant cries of that’s ours, our omega, he needs alpha, give him what he wants, breed him, see how well he takes you-

Instead, when you reach the edge of Felix’s carefully placed nest, you reach out a hand and let your fingers hover over him, waiting for him to come to you. 

“Lixie.” You murmur carefully, so as not to startle him, and a shaggy, disheveled head of blonde hair crests the mound of blankets. 

“Noona?” 

“Yeah, baby.” You confirm, giving him the hint of a smile, as he fully emerges now, bundled in one of Minho’s overly large sweatshirts, hair tousled and sticking up in odd directions, fingers gripping the blankets so hard his tiny knuckles turn white. “I told you I’d come, right?” 

“You did.” Felix breathes out in awe, as if he didn’t really think you would. 

You take in a deep breath through your nose, and try to ignore the saliva building beneath your tongue, the ache starting once more in your teeth. 

Felix’s pupils go wide and dark, and you know he’s just gotten a whiff of your alpha pheromones. 

The scent gland at the base of his throat is actively weeping, filling the air with heady, sugared citrus, and it’s making your thoughts hazy, making it harder and harder to ignore the cries of your desperate wolf. 

Do it. Take him. Make him feel good-

Felix shifts on the bed, slightly baring his throat to you, and the movement tugs the blankets down low around his hips, and the sight of the tan skin of his bare thighs, the sudden smell of new slick in the air, has you biting down on your tongue so hard you taste copper. 

“Lixie.” You say his name carefully, choking slightly on the delivery, as you try desperately not to focus on the delicious smells coming from the omega in front of you. “Binnie said you wanted both of us. Are you sure?” 

You’d almost forgotten Chan was in the room, but he moves to stand beside you now, and you note the way he’s digging his nails into one of his palms, leaving crescent shaped indents, red and raw, in a desperate attempt to control himself. 

You get it. You do. 

“Yeah-” Felix pants out, affirming his answer with a brief, curt nod of his head, his fingers gripping the blankets once more. 

He lets his eyes flick between you and Chan, the pink tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

 “-Yes, alpha.” He corrects himself, staring up at you with large, dark eyes. 

“Good boy.” You praise in a low tone, your words dipping down into alpha timbre, and Felix’s pupils blow, the smell of oranges spiking as you lean over the bed to take his chin in your hand. 

He swallows hard, and you can feel the way his pulse flutters like a caged bird beneath the skin of his throat. 

The scent of slick is maddening. 

Chan tenses beside you, and you glance over your shoulder at him, watching him take in Felix with a sharp, predatory gaze, but his expression remains soft, like the omega is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

You can’t blame him. Felix is pretty and delicate and pink and everything a perfect omega should be. 

All of that only makes it all the more fun to ruin him. 

“Lixie.” You purr out, tightening your fingers on his chin, and the omega looks at you obediently. “I’m gonna walk Channie through this, okay? Are you okay with that?” 

Felix wets his lips once more, and glances at Chan, who has taken in a breath and held it at your words, as if he doesn’t dare to breathe. 

You smirk and tap a finger beneath the omega’s chin. 

“Eyes over here, Lixie. I need to hear you say it.” 

Felix slides his gaze back to you, and his eyes are slightly glassy now, a dreamy expression on his face, and you know it’s your combined alpha pheromones doing their job, taking the edge off, making him feel at ease. 

Good, your wolf purrs, our only job is to make sure the omega-our omega-feels good. 

After a brief moment, Felix nods. 

“Yes, alpha.” You release your hold on his chin and step back from him, and Felix whines at the loss of contact, almost breaking your resolve, but you settle down on the edge of the bed with a placating smile in his direction, and then turn to Chan. 

Chan, who is still staring at Felix, and has not moved from his current frozen position at the foot of the bed. 

“Channie.” 

The use of the nickname has him snapping to attention, gaze flying to your own, and you tilt your head, offering him a knowing smirk now, as you gesture with your chin to the omega lying on the bed. 

“You’re gonna have to touch him eventually, you know.” 

Chan swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and anxiety washes across the caramel irises of his eyes, his nails once again biting into his palm. 

“I know, but I don’t want to do anything wrong.” 

“Which is why I’m going to walk you through it.” You hold his gaze until he reluctantly nods, and Felix whimpers from his place on the bed. You glance at him and reach out to run a finger down his cheek soothingly. “I know, baby, be a good boy for alpha and hold on just a little bit longer, okay?” 

Felix groans and shudders with discomfort. “It hurts, alpha. Want you.” 

“I know, baby.” You repeat, leaning over to brush some stray hair from the omega’s eyes, letting your palm linger over his scent gland, pressed against the warm skin there. 

When you pull back, Felix chases after your touch like a flower chasing the sun. 

“Channie’s gonna make it better. Don’t worry.” 

You lock gazes once more with Chan, and you see his chest rise and fall with a determined breath, before he crawls onto the bed, careful not to disturb any of the pieces of Felix’s nest. 

Felix whines again and makes grabby hands at Chan, who looks to you in an almost pleading ask of silent support. 

You bite back a smirk. 

“Lixie’s delicate. You have to give him lots of reassurance and tell him how pretty and good he is and how well he’s doing. Slow and soft and careful.” 

You see Chan swallow, his pupils blowing as he catches a whiff of Felix’s heat heightened scent, and then he leans in, Felix’s hands tangling desperately in the front of the alpha’s shirt, even as he hungrily collides their lips together with a little moan from the back of his throat. 

Pretty, you think, watching the way Chan’s mouth gently works over Felix’s, until the omega’s lips are kiss bitten pink and slick with saliva. 

They pull apart, and you have to tell yourself to ignore the wetness gathering between your own legs just from watching them together. 

Chan looks to you then, and you shrug. 

“You’re a natural.” 

He’s breathing hard, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy with want. 

“Thanks, I think.” 

You turn to Felix, who is pinned beneath Chan’s body weight, fingers still tugging at the fabric of the alpha’s shirt. 

“And Lixie-” 

He turns his head to meet your gaze, pupils blown and expression dazed, cheeks heightened with color, lips flushed and full, still shiny with spit. 

God, he’s pretty. 

“-you’re doing so good, baby, being so good for alphas, hm? What does my pretty baby want? Tell alpha, be a good boy.” 

Felix melts under the praise, and you can practically see his omega-front and center with his heat-preening under the alpha attention. 

“I want-” Felix starts, his voice hoarse, his fingers curling tighter into the front of Chan’s shirt. 

He hesitates, as if afraid to say it out loud, and Chan takes the opportunity to lean forward and kiss him again, gentle and tender and slow this time, unhurried. When they break apart for the second time, he smiles down at the omega, open fondness on his features. 

“Go on, baby. You can tell us.” 

Felix shivers at the reassurance falling from Chan’s lips, and glances back to you once more. 

“I want both of you, alphas.” 

“You have us.” You repeat firmly, voice soft, as you lean forward and card your fingers through Felix’s hair. “We’re right here.” 

“No, like-” Felix licks his lips, stumbling over his words once again, and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. The freckles on his cheekbones wink like the stars of a far away constellation. “-I want both of you. To help me. Together.” 

“Oh.” Chan says dumbly, like he doesn’t quite get it, and then it clicks, and his eyebrows disappear into the hairline of his curls and his cheeks go a deep red. “Oh.” 

“There it is.” You laugh, already climbing onto the bed, and Chan looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. You smirk and reach out to pinch his chin between your fingers. “C’mon, pretty boy, I thought you were good at sharing.” 

Chan’s expression darkens with the challenge, his cheeks still a little pink, and your smirk widens, as you lean forward and nip his bottom lip playfully, pulling back as Felix whines from beneath the two of you. 

The smell of slick is back ten fold, and Chan visibly shudders from his spot astride Felix, his eyes swirling golden now, hot and copper and full of want. 

“Fuck, Felix.” The alpha swears low beneath his breath, the words almost a growl, and rolls his hips experimentally against the omega’s. 

Felix’s hands fly up to splay palm down with a solid thwack against Chan’s chest as he gasps, his lips parting and his eyes fluttering closed. 

 You reach out to grip his chin, and Felix opens his eyes once more, gaze filmed over with desire, and you smirk, letting your hand trace down the column of his throat, tracing his weeping scent gland slowly and deliberately with the tip of your finger. 

Felix gasps again, and this time, it’s a coherent word. 

“Please.” 

From atop him, Chan groans, low and primal in the back of his throat, and you meet the squirming omega’s gaze with dark, hooded eyes, your fingers tangling into his hair as you lean in. 

“My pretty omega. Pretty Lixie. You’ve been such a good boy. Such an angel for alphas. I think it’s high time we gave you a reward.” 

#Skz #stray kids #ot8 #skz!pack #skz!abo #poly!skz #omegaverse #skz x you #skz x reader #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #kim seungmin #han jisung #yang jeongin #y/n #skz fluff #skz angst #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz!pack prequel #pack!prequel #prequel series #new #update #femreader #intersex alpha reader

[samstree]

His Impossible Happy Ending

(Cinderella AU for Geraskier, read on AO3)

“Please, just call me Jaskier. I never cared for the name Julian, or the title Prince for that matter. Sounds rather formal between friends, don’t you think?”

The prince leads Geralt to a bench in the royal garden. The night sky is clear. Moonlight softens Prin—Jaskier’s fond expression, reflecting off of the delicate golden embroidery on his pale-blue doublet. There’s a sparkle in his eyes when they meet Geralt’s gaze.

“Friends? Is that what we are...Jaskier?” 

A grin spreads across the prince’s face. Geralt’s heart picks up when Jaskier reaches out to cradle his face, caressing his skin there gently.

“I hope? Or maybe I can hope for more. My father did hold this royal ball just so I can select my betrothed.” 

“You don’t even know my name.” Geralt desperately wishes to stay in this moment forever, with Jaskier so close and his cheeks rosy in the night chill. 

But alas, he’s only allowed into the royal court because of the disguise—one of magical nature that only lasts temporarily. It is the reason he looks like an ordinary human lord right now, without a witcher’s white hair, or freakish eyes, or sharp fangs. It even came with a full set of royal attires made out of silk.

“I don’t need a name. I feel like I’ve known you forever.” Jaskier’s eyes darken as he leans in, his other hand flush against Geralt’s chest, against the silk that will only exist for a night.

The crisp night air is mixed with the fresh smell of grass in the garden, but on top of it all is the floral scent that is only Jaskier. Geralt lets his senses be overwhelmed by the presence of the prince, by his soft breaths ghosting over his skin and those enchanting lips well within reach.

Tonight is all he’ll ever have. Smiling sadly, he meets Jaskier halfway, their lips only a hair’s breadth away when—

The bell strikes. Once, twice...

Geralt startles at the piercing noise, pulling back from the prince. Is it midnight already? It can’t be this fast...fuck, he needs to get out of here before the magic expires. 

Jaskier stares at him, confused. “What is wrong?”

“I need to go,” Geralt splutters, “I—ah, I need to leave right now. I’m so sorry, my prince.”

Jaskier’s face dims at the apology and his vulnerable expression tugs at something in Geralt’s heart, making him ache beyond imagination, but he can’t afford to linger. The bell is still counting down his sentence. 

He takes Jaskier’s hand and presses a kiss there and turns to leave, only to be pulled back by the prince’s insistent tug.

“Wait, you don’t have to—”

“Please believe that I wish to stay, Jaskier, more than anything...but it’s important that I leave right now.” Panic bubbles up in his throat as the other man continues to ignore his plea. Instead, Jaskier only stills him by his shoulders with the steadiest look in his eyes.

“Stay,” Jaskier whispers, and it’s all it takes.

Geralt can break free easily, but somehow is unable. He’s too weak in the face of his dream, so close to touch yet still so far away.

To his horror, the magic starts fading as they hold each other’s gaze. Geralt can feel his hair change and his teeth sharpen. Chaos stings his eyes which are surely turning back to their monstrous yellow. His face crumbles out of shame.

And yet, Jaskier never wavers. 

If anything, the soft adoration in those baby blue only grows, ever so beautifully, as the swirl of magic circles around Geralt and returns his clothes back to his usual raggedy dark fabric. 

The bell strikes twelve.

The sound still echoes in the air as slender fingers return to Geralt’s cheek. He lets out a surprised gasp. Steadily, with the utmost determination, those same fingers thread through what is now silver-white hair. Tears glisten in Jaskier’s eyes.

“You think I wouldn’t recognize the man who saved my life? That I’d forget the witcher who gallantly jumped in between me and a dozen enemies, who offered me comfort afterward.” Jaskier lets out a wet chuckle, his heart picking up in response to the witcher’s. “I’d know you anywhere, Geralt of Rivia.”

The witcher can only stare as Jaskier continues to trace the shell of his ears, the tiny scar under his eye, and then, the pad of his thumb falls to the corner of Geralt’s mouth. It’s not often that his breath is taken away, least of all by a prince who's only supposed to be a fantasy that can never be.

“So you know it’s impossible for us." Geralt’s voice cracks. “I’ll always protect you from afar, Jaskier. Always.”

At those words, tears are now falling freely down the prince’s cheeks, which Geralt carefully wipes away. Under the stars and the moonlight, Jaskier presses his lips to the witcher’s, tasting of salt and heartbreak.

“Ridiculous witcher. Nothing is impossible.” Jaskier pulls away flushed. “As long you are here with me.”

Under the stars and the moonlight, the witcher might just get his happy ending.

 ---

I heard ocassional fluff is good for you health or something, so this happened ;))

Tagging: @stinastar @persony-pepper @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @writinginsecret5 @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list!

#i screamed many times because of how tooth-rottingly fluffy it is #geraskier #geraskier fic #no warnings #the witcher #fluff #prince!jaskier #cinderella au #pining geralt #soft geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia

[lavenderfluorite14]

Such Sweet Delirium

Reiji Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Laito Intrudes on an experiment gone wrong. Reiji loses his cool.

Explicit, 18+ |TW: Dubious Consent/Non-Con, Drugged Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Blood Sucking, Ownership Kink, Female Reader, Breast Worship, Hickeys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Possessive Reiji, Light Edging, Canon Typical Reiji Cruelty, I couldn’t just write porn I had to write a character study too lol, Slight Laito x Reader, Tagging non-con for the consent issues surrounding drugged sex, Reader is conscious and responsive but very high

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Please be mindful of the tags! This is the most explicit thing that I have ever written lmaoooo 🥂

Read it on AO3!

Reiji’s lab spun in a nauseating carousel of color. The last thing you remembered was drinking a beautiful, shimmering liquid that Reiji said he had brewed himself. It fizzed all the way down your throat, an insistent warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. Now sprawled across his sofa, you surrendered to dizzying oblivion. Somewhere above you, Reiji scribbled furiously in a black notebook, tutting irritably.

“Tell me what you are feeling. Be specific.” You swallowed thickly at the order, begging your tongue to move.

“The…...the room…..the room is-”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“S-spinning. The room….is spinning” you slurred.

“How fast?”

“Fast.”

“I said how fast?”

“I….I can’t….”

Reiji tsked angrily, snapping his notebook shut. Flinching, you tried to turn away from his sharp gaze but a cold hand pinned you flat against the couch. Your delayed reaction time was no match for his vampiric strength.

“I can feel your heart racing from here,” he said, curling over you, pinning your wrists above your head. “Had I known you were such weak prey I would have given you a smaller dose. It isn’t as fun when you can’t fight back.” You wriggled underneath him, jerking weakly against his cruel grip. Reiji laughed, amused at your feeble attempts to escape.

“Although, I don’t hate this delirious expression,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by his hungry stare. “I suppose this isn’t bad every once and a while.” His rich baritone rumbled in your ear, his proximity making you tremble.

“I didn’t think I’d interrupt this so soon,” interrupted a dark chuckle. Laito lounged against the doorframe of the lab, eyeing your entwined forms. “You must really like this one, Reiji,” he teased. Reiji’s iron grip tightened around your wrists and you whimpered pitifully. “It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking,” Reiji spat imperiously. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer!” Laito insisted, his eyes glinting with mirth. “But now I can see you were a bit distracted.” You lolled your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Laito’s smirk widened.

“Christ, what did you do to her?”

“Such language is atrocious. You shouldn’t speak that way.”

“You fucked up the dosage, didn’t you?” Reiji shot up quickly at the accusation, swiping his notebook from the couch as he crossed briskly back towards his desk. Laito’s smirk cracked into a grin.

“Do you need something, Laito?” Reiji asked coolly. As Reiji began tidying his work space, Laito sauntered over to the couch, his green gaze boring into you. Crouching down, he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. You shivered under his cold touch. “I came for the aphrodisiac you promised me,” Laito said, trailing his fingers down your neck. He stopped to trace the hollow of your throat, caressing it with his thumb. “But if you don’t have it, I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time inst-”

“Of course I have it,” Reiji scoffed. Plucking a vial of blue liquid from his stores, he crossed the room and offered it to Laito. “Now please take it and leave.” Reiji’s words hung in the air like frost. Laito rose languidly, like a cobra rearing back to strike, then swiped the vial from Reiji’s gloved hand.

“Maybe next time, Bitch-Chan,” Laito said, winking at you. “And Reiji,” Laito called, pivoting in the doorframe for one last jab. “I know it can be hard to control yourself, especially this close to a full moon, but try not to tear this one up like the last one, ok? You should save some for the rest of us.”

“Get out!” Reiji snarled, storming across the room. Laito darted off, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Reiji slammed the door behind him.

The ceiling swam before you in lethargic swirls of periwinkle. You had no idea what Laito meant, but you could feel Reiji fuming in the doorway. What was he talking about? Reiji never lost his cool. You couldn’t imagine him doing something like that. “You let him touch you,” Reiji seethed.

“Reiji, I...I didn’t….I didn't want-”

“Please be silent.Your behavior today has been dreadful.” Reiji prowled towards the couch, his long shadow casting a dark pall across your face. You closed your eyes, terrified to meet his furious eyes. “You couldn't do a thing?” He queried, towering above you. “You couldn’t cry out? Or swat him away?” His voice was ice.

“I…..I froze….”

“I suppose that’s to be expected from a woman like you,”

“I’m so-sorry,”

“How should I punish my little harlot?” Finally bending down towards you, Reiji cupped your face firmly with his gloved hand. “Your pupils are still so dilated. I doubt you’d feel my whip at all.” The thought made you shiver, and not completely out of fear. Reiji thumbed your lip idly as he thought.

“Suck….my blood?” He tsked at your suggestion.

“You ask for it so brazenly, sometimes I think you enjoy it. Hands up.” You heaved your arms up over your head as Reiji smoothly rolled your top up your body, tossing it aside once it was completely off.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve been too lax with you,” he mused, settling firmly on top of you. You were particularly aware of his pelvis, pressing insistently against the cradle of your thighs. He cupped your face, drawing you close. “I need to teach you exactly who you belong to,” he said, his gaze drifting down hungrily to the column of your neck. “I’ll remind you so thoroughly of your place that even a dumb whore like you will be able to remember who owns her,” he promised, sinking his teeth viciously into your throat.

Reiji’s first bite was hard and precise, the sharp pain briefly thrusting you into lucid panic. But soon you were left with the warm afterglow of pleasure in the wake of its pain. It never stopped hurting, not entirely, but his bites always left you with a fluttering warmth. Reiji’s mouth was on you. You couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Reiji began a fast, desperate rhythm that pulled blood from you quickly, sending you reeling. You whimpered as your world whirled impossibly faster. When darkness began to flicker at the edges of your vision Reiji pulled away, burying his face into your neck. “You bring out the worst in me,” he sighed. Mouthing along your throat, he continued downward towards your collarbone. You braced yourself for another bite, but recoiled sharply when Reiji placed a delicate kiss upon your chest.

“Look at me, jealous of that pervert.” He kissed your chest again, skimming his fingers across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “Arch your back.” Curving your spine upwards, your body brushed against Reiji’s lean frame. You trembled as his hands ghosted along your back, making their way towards the clasp of your bra. Reiji unhooked it with quick ease then tossed the lacy fabric away, greedily cupping your naked breasts. A thin, breathy gasp escaped from you as Reiji dipped between them, kissing your soft curves. You tangled your hands in his hair, humming your approval. In response he tweaked your nipple harshly, sending a jolt of pain through your cloud of pleasure. You yelped at the enticing contrast.

“Let me remind you of your place. You are nothing more than food to me,” he said, pinching your nipple again with a renewed vengeance. You drunkenly brought your hands back to push him away, but he easily pinned them back above your head. “You are meat. Your blood is the only worthwhile thing about you.” Reiji sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, drawing deep from you. Crying out, you tried to ignore the pleasure his bite ignited in you, trying to focus only on the pain.

“I can taste your arousal,” he groaned between mouthfuls. “Does your masochism know no bounds?” Reiji’s insults didn’t last as he dove back down again to litter your chest with angry bites. He’d kiss you, so tenderly it was almost painful, then pierce your sensitive skin with his sharp, pointed fangs. Once satisfied, he’d lick, suck and kiss the abused spot until an angry mark began to form. He left bruises everywhere in his wake, a garden of purple hickeys blossoming across your breasts.

The drug made it nearly impossible to meaningfully fight back but you didn’t really want to. Reiji’s words stung, but you so rarely had his attention like this. Was it because the full moon was close? You knew vampires had trouble controlling their urges when the moon was full. And Reiji so desperately wanted control: of his brothers, of you, of himself. Was this frenzied beast the real Reiji, or was his protesting, rigid persona the real him? Impossibly, you knew he had to be both. Both enraptured and repulsed by his own desires and completely unable to hide it. That was really why he was mad. Reiji’s wet tongue interrupted your musings as he lapped against your sore nipple, sending a shudder through your entire body. Unable to remove your wrists from his grasp, you retaliated by wrapping your legs around his hips, trapping him against you. Now it was Reiji’s turn to shudder, rutting himself against your core. He was hard.

“My, you really are out of it,” he murmured, grinding himself against you openly. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” You panted, trying to match his thrusts. Reiji released your wrists, propping himself up on his left arm. Delicately biting the fabric across the tip of his pointer finger, he slid his glove from his hand. Ripping it away, Reiji’s bare hand skimmed down your body and over your curves. Flipping up your skirt, his fingers slid between your thighs.

“For this,” he says, tracing your wetness through your panties. Your eyes fluttered shut. “Reiji,” you breathed, arching towards his fingers.

“Say my name,” Reiji ordered softly, dipping underneath the fabric and rewarding you with long, firm strokes. You called his name again and he moved up towards your clit, circling it once before quickly pulling away. You whined at the loss.

Reiji begins a vicious rhythm, rubbing your clit with firm circles, then backing off when your pleasure mounts. He only returns to your clit when you beg him to, crying out for him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you whine in frustration as a needy ache builds inside you. Reiji just smirks down at you, enjoying your torment. When tears start building in your eyes, he finally slides a slender finger into your heat. Beckoning upward along your inner wall, he firmly massages your g spot. Mindlessly, you grind down on his fingers, chasing your pleasure.

“Who makes you feel this good?” he asks, his ruby eyes alight with lust.

“You do,” you gasp.

“I asked you who,” he demanded, cruelly massaging your inner wall. You jerk at the pressure, almost cresting over the plateau.

“Reiji! Reiji Sakamaki!” you cry, desperate for release.

“Good girl,” he smirks, thumbing your clit. You gasp in delight, the rough, consistent circles of his fingers finally hurtling you towards your peak. “You don’t deserve this,” he growls in your ear, his deep velvety voice bewitching you. “But when I see you like this, I can’t stop myself. You’re mine.” Your orgasm hits you hard, squeezing Reiji’s fingers in hot contractions. Pleasure washes over you in a wave, your entire being gently pulsing. Reiji smugly guides you through your orgasm, only stopping his ministrations once your twitching has ceased. You sigh, melting back into the cushions of the couch. Above you, a belt buckle clinks.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Reiji says, gripping your thighs and yanking you forcefully back towards him. As he settles above you, he presses the tip of his member against your eager entrance. Pushing forward, Reiji sinks into you with ease. “My little harlot is so wet for me,” he teases, before setting a ruthless pace.

Reiji fucks you selfishly, chasing his own pleasure now that he’s satisfied yours. You lay back, still enjoying the lingering effects of his drug. His thrusts pull soft, pleasured moans from you as he plunges desperately into you. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sensations, happy to let him use you. Occasionally he’ll sheathe himself all the way inside of you and grind desperately against your cervix, trying to get as deep as he can.

“I can’t believe you like this. That you like me,” he pants softly, definitely to himself. Reiji lets you pull him down so that he is completely flush against your body. “I do. I like you, Reiji.” A groan rips from him and he stills, spilling himself inside of you.

You stay that way for a moment, holding each other tenderly in the afterglow of your love-making. You wish you could stay like this, enjoying the feeling of his body as it presses you into the cushions, gently stroking his back as both of your breathing returns to normal. But Reiji recovers faster than you do. “I’ll clean you up,” he offers, his tone clipped.

Reiji cleans you thoroughly with a warm wet towel, which feels strange but is not unenjoyable in your impaired state. It’s deeply intimate in a way that is definitely uncomfortable, but you think it’s his way of taking care of you. You close your eyes, pliant. His large hands drift over your body, tugging your top back over you and righting your skirt. Once he is finished you curl on your side, completely spent and ready to sleep. As you begin to drift off, you feel something warm and soft envelop you. A blanket? Maybe. Where did he get a blanket?

Reiji watches as you snuggle into the blanket he has recently taken to keeping in his desk, a genuine smile flickering across his stern features.

#reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers #reiji x reader #Reiji Sakamaki x Reader #my little harlot #the night shift

[secretlysheikah]

Slowed

I have created another one shot in honor of hitting 300 followers on the blog! I don’t know where you all came from, but welcome. My name is Sheikah and I want all of your tears. 

So to thank you all for deciding to join me as I wonder aimlessly and create angst for you all to consume. You are amazing and have helped me through more than you guys know. I love you all. And to show you, I wrote pain! :D

enjoy!

Start here:

Metal clashed loudly in the clearing making Wild’s ears ring painfully. He was amazed that he could still hear the other’s shouts and warnings over the din of blades and monster roars. Wild stood near the edge of the skirmish, hesitant to get any closer to the others as they fought. He was still wary about accidentally hurting any of them, even though he had been fighting with others for a few weeks now. Early on Time had arranged practices with all of them fighting together so he could get the feel for fighting as a large group but still, the worry lingered like a ghost. So he hung back and cut through the enemies that tried to overwhelm the heroes fighting in the center. 

The attack had been a surprise, monsters from different eras came spilling out by the dozens into the clearing where they had been planning on making camp for the night. The sudden onslaught forced most of them into a tight group at the center of the would be camp. All of them, except Wild who had rushed to the outskirts of the fray unwilling to get too close to the whirling blades of the others but desperate to help in his own way. So he ducked and spun under spears, dodged savage swings of swords and all the while worked to help thin the hoard. His cloak felt wet from the black blood that splattered onto it with more being added by the second though that didn’t slow his frenzied attacks.

The tides of the battle seemed to be turning in their favor as the monsters continued to fall when there was a desperate shout from the center of the group. Wild whipped around, hood falling off of his head as he looked towards the call. Four had been cut off from the others by three large dog looking monsters, his shield was raised as he defected attack after attack but Wild could tell the young man was struggling. Four’s eyes looked crazed and he couldn’t seem to find an opening to fight back or gain more ground. His headband, slightly askew, was covered in red and black and Wild felt his throat close up when a particularly harsh blow knocked the shield out of his hand. One of the dog monsters reared back, a triumphant smile filled with sharp teeth and brought it’s sword down in a powerful arcing slice with obvious delight. There was nowhere for Four to go, nothing he could do and Wild’s feet were moving before his brain could catch up.  

Wild shouted Four’s name as he darted forward, summoning a bow he knocked three arrows as he went. He dashed in front of Four and leapt into the air and felt the familiar slowing of time as he focused and took aim. He could see Four’s eyes slowly widening in his peripheral vision, felt as the sword, meant for Four pressed hard against the skin just under his right ribs and fired.

The arrows found their marks in the eyes of the three beasts, and they let out morphed roars of pain and rage as they stumbled back and away from the pair. When Wild’s feet touched ground time seemed to slam back into full motion once again. The sounds of battle sounded muted to his ears as Wild summoned a new blade from his slate and threw it as hard as he could into the throat of the monster that was about to strike Four. The beast gave a garbled cry, sank to its knees as it clutched at the hilt before it fell to the ground dead. 

More roars from the other recovering monsters had Wild spinning around searching for a weapon. In a blink he grabbed the smaller hero’s sword out of his slack hand before spinning back around to face the remaining threats. In two swipes of the borrowed blade Wild decapitated the other two monsters that had lumbered their way closer with ease. Their bodies crashed heavily onto the ground. The force of the fall sent strong rumbles through the earth under their feet before they watched the beasts melt away, leaving a smear of black in their place. Determining the threats were well and truly handled, Wild straightened, his cloak falling closed around him and turned to face Four with a sheepish smile and offered the sword back. 

“Sorry for taking it, I didn’t think I had time to summon another one,” Wild whispered and watched as Four slowly took the sword back. His eyes were flashing a myriad of colors and his mouth worked as he tried to articulate what he was thinking. 

“How did you do that?” Four asked and Wild tilted his head unsure what the other was asking. 

“Do what?” 

“The arrows, the, the time, everything slowed down, you were so fast, how?” Four stammered, eyes still flashing odd colors in the light. Wild blinked at him unsure as to what to say. Four had noticed the time slow down? He thought that was all in head, something born of adrenaline and the need to act. Something fluttered at the edge of his memory and a low thrum of dread pounded at his heart.  

“You have to teach me,” Four said, his eyes a bright blue as a wide smile spread across his face in obvious excitement. Wild could feel red creeping into his cheeks, too many emotions were happening all at once and he didn’t know what to focus on. He pulled his hood over his face to hide the blush, and he let out a shaky little laugh and felt his tongue growing numb. 

“Well I mean, I didn’t even know, really that it wasn’t... I mean to say I don’t even know how… To… “ Wild stammered but found he couldn’t speak anymore. His breathing was starting to quicken, ringing tickled the edges of his hearing. His heart dropped when he finally registered the way his limbs felt like they were beginning to lock up. No, please, not here, not now. He couldn’t tell if the sound of battle behind them was starting to die down or if the growing ringing in his ears was blocking out the sound. He swallowed down the rising panic, aware that Four was tilting his head in curiosity. Things were starting to grow distant and he grit his teeth and forced the feeling back as hard as he could. 

“Wild? Are you okay?” Four asked and Wild managed to nod and gave a small smile which he hoped was convincing. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I think I’m going to go check the woods, make sure we’re alone,” Wild said quickly and forced his stiffening legs to walk out of the clearing. He could hear a stammered ‘oh okay,’ come from Four before he pushed his way through the bushes and into the peace of the woods. He couldn’t let the others see, he didn’t want them to see. He felt warmth on his side and he pressed a half numbed palm against it, only just managing to register the red that coated it. Oh Hylia above why now, he didn’t have time for this, this couldn’t be happening.     

The ringing in his ears was becoming louder and louder and he searched for a place to hide. He stumbled over a root and threw out a hand to steady himself and noted how his fingers were growing stiffer as the memory pulled at him. He let out a whine and threw himself forward, desperate to find cover. He only managed a few more steps before his shoulder connected with  a tree and he spun to the ground though he barely felt the impact. 

Everything was going numb, his limbs were little better than stone but he managed to crawl behind a tree. He pressed his back against the trunk, it would have to do, he couldn’t hold the memory back any longer. A shudder ran through his frame, the forest grew dim and distant around him as it was replaced by the bright light of a different time and place. His last thought of the present was the hope that he didn’t bleed out before the memory was through.

 Then he was gone. 

*****

Link was breathing hard, the weight of the armor weighed him down but he smiled despite the heat and the weight that wrapped around him. His superior was in much the same way, except for the scowl that graced his face. The Captain held his sword high as a flush of red colored his cheeks. His fellow soldiers jeered at the man and it was hard not to join them. 

He hadn’t been hit once during their little sparring session and Link could tell the Captain was getting frustrated. The taller man dashed forwards again and Link let him sword held at the ready and watched as the older man swung his blade. Time almost felt like it was slowing down as he spun easily away and landed another hit on the shiny metal of his superior’s back. More jeers and whoops of laughter came from the small crowd and Link couldn’t stop the small smile growing on his face. 

 He knew what his superiors meant to do when they demanded he spar with them. This was meant to show that even though he had been chosen to wield the Master sword, he was still nothing compared to them and he would be damned before he let that stand. The Captain stumbled forwards before spinning around and leveling a harsh glare at him. The man was practically beside himself with rage and Link felt his own eyes harden at the look. It wasn’t his fault the Captain telegraphed his moves so openly, he’d be a fool to ignore the obvious tells. He gave the Captain a small smile and a jaunty wave and revealed in the man’s deepening flush. 

The Captain held Link’s stare for a moment before he lowered his blade and gestured for his subordinate to come to his side. Link blinked slowly at the pair and feigned an air of nonchalance as they whispered to each other. To be completely honest he didn’t like the looks they were giving each other. He sighed, planted his blade into the soft overturned earth at his feet and removed his helmet to wipe at his brow. 

“What’s the hold up?” One man cried from the sidelines followed by laughter and more jabs. 

“Can’t hold a candle to that boy!”

“Well my money is still on the Captain.” 

“You’re a fool, I hope you like losing your rupees,”

The banter continued on for a few more minutes until the Captain turned and commanded silence. His face was a bright flush of fury and his fellow soldiers stopped their conversions so fast it was like the sound had been cut off. The Captain made a gesture, cried another command and everyone snapped to attention and waited for their orders. 

“Training has concluded for the day. Get to the barracks and wash up for dinner. Anyone found exchanging rupees will be whipped for insubordination, dismissed,” The Captain barked and looked over his shoulder at him. Link could feel that the cold stare he was sending him  threatened violence. Link stared back, unblinking as he too made his way to leave the clearing.  

“Not you,” the Captain hissed and Link slowed to a stop, squeezing the hilt of his sword tightly before he nodded stiffly, replaced his helmet and stood at attention. The Captain turned to face him and they both stared at each other while they waited for the others to depart. There were grumbles and muted complaints as the group of men shuffled off towards the barracks but Link paid them no mind. He watched the Captain’s eyes sharpen as he stared at him and he matched the stare with one of his own and he could feel his jaw tightening ever so slightly as he did so. It only took a minute for the men to leave the three of them in clearing but it felt like an age, and Link felt ready to snap by the time the Captain finally addressed him.      

“How, tell us how boy,” The Captain commanded and Link felt confusion slam into him so hard he almost staggered in surprise. As it was he just blinked at the two men stupidly for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Hell he didn’t even know what the other man was talking about. He racked his brain and tried to remember what he did that could have sparked this situation but came up with nothing.

Link eyed the two men that stood before him and noted the various levels of frustration, anger and a dark curiosity that hung about them like a cloud. The Captain had his fists curled at his sides and the lackey had his  arms crossed with a faint look of disgust on his face as they waited for him to explain whatever it was they thought he did. It seemed to be a constant thing with these two. The Captain, angry and fuming and his lackey, haughty and mildly disgusted as they berated him or demanded answers to questions he simply had no answers for. 

The Captain was practically shaking with rage when Link didn’t answer fast enough, and he drew his sword from its sheath. Link felt his eyes widen in surprise, his mind spun at the clear threat and he felt distinctly off kilter and on edge. The sword he had been using for practice hung down at his side nearly forgotten. The tip of the blade wavered as his quickly fading fatigue mixed with his confusion and the sudden spike of adrenaline that made his muscles jump.   

“I don’t understand, what do you mean?” Link asked, feeling his confusion building into a steady thrum of apprehension and suspicion. Was this some sort of trick to somehow get him sent to the whipping post? But why? He couldn’t make heads or tails of the odd question. What was he supposed to be explaining?  

“Don’t be stupid, you know what you did. How boy, tell me how,” The Captain spat as he stalked forward, his sword knocked Link’s own sword away before he shoved him hard. Link stumbled back unsure where the anger was actually coming from now. He doubted it was just due to humiliation now, but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. 

“Sir, please, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Link pleaded, raising his sword to block a sloppy swipe that was sent his way. 

“The time boy, you move too fast to be natural.” The Captain snarled, sword rising again as he lunged forward. Link felt his eyes widen and he took a couple of hasty steps back. His sword moving in quick blocks to keep the other’s sword from hitting him.   

“I felt time slow down when you dodged me, you slowed down time and I want to know how,” Link blinked in surprise letting his guard fall for a moment too long and felt the Captain's sword connect with his arm. A hard reverberation rattled the bones in his arm and he gasped and pulled away, arm stinging. The look on the other man’s face had Link’s heart freezing in his chest. His cheeks were still flushed but he could see a malevolent gleam flashing in his dark eyes. His skin crawled at the look, and he bit down on the fear and steadied his stance.

“I assure you I don’t know what you’re on about,” Link said as calmly as he could, all the while analyzing the way the Captain held his sword to where his feet were planted. The Captain shifted his weight slightly and Link moved to match, taking great pains to watch the micromovements of the man’s sword. He didn’t know how to defuse the situation, so he had to settle for staying on guard and waiting for the next swing. 

Which was why he was surprised by the harsh blow that connected with his side, knocking the air out of his lungs in a harsh gasp. The subordinate, that bastard, had taken advantage. The world spun slightly as he turned to face the other man and he worked at gaining his breath back. His side felt almost numbed and a faint note of worry played in the back of his mind but he didn’t have the time to pay it much mind.    

“That was a dirty move,” Link wheezed slightly as he focused on making sure his sword didn’t bob too much. He hated how his hands shook, hated how the two men smiled at one another. 

“No no, that was war. Maybe this is just the thing to get you to show us how you do your little magic trick,” The Captain said before he sent a nod to his subordinate and they both began to move closer. Link swallowed hard and gripped his sword tighter as he watched them start to circle him. The Captain made the first move, stepping in close with a wild jab which he parried but had to duck away quickly when the subordinate's sword came whistling by his head. Link grunted at the movement feeling an odd pull at his otherwise numb side as he moved. However there wasn’t time to ponder it before another sword came sweeping in low. 

“Come on boy! Surely you can figure it out” the subordinate jeered as he moved in quickly with another flurry of quick jabs causing Link to shuffle and twist to avoid them. 

“This is madness!” Link shouted, feeling the Captain at his back and rolling out of the way of a brutal downwards strike that just missed his shoulder. He felt the world roll with him in a sickening spiral and it was all he could do to get unsteadily to his feet. He barely knocked away another sword swing that came in fast aiming to harm. Because that’s what they were trying to do, that’s what they were always trying to do he thought bitterly as he continued to block and parry. 

Link made a sloppy swipe at one of the men and took a step back then another. He was desperate to gain more ground between him and these people who were meant to be training him, but the world dipped around him. His feet grew clumsy and slow and his heel caught on a stone sending him crashing into the dirt. 

He couldn't get enough air in, he felt woozy and lightheaded. The training yard was blacking out around the edges and he just managed to roll out of the way of a strike before it could cleave his armor in two. Now fully convinced they were trying to kill him, Link struggled to scramble backwards eyes darting around at the two men who were laughing and coming closer. 

“What’s the matter boy?” One of them asked, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He tried to blink away the black, tried to move back more but it was like he was trying to move through thick tar. His arms gave out and he flopped back onto the upturned dirt, head spinning and side aching. A shadow blotted out the fading light above him and he blinked in confusion as a hand roughly jostled his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, only tried and failed to move away when a hand gripped his wrist pulled it away from his side. He hissed in pain but there wasn’t anything he could do, his strength felt like it was bleeding away.  

“Ah Hell, looks like you managed to cut him,” The voice of the Captain said just above him and he felt himself being turned roughly on his side. Fingers tugged at the edges of his armor and pain flared through his side as they landed on something tender. 

“Great, I broke him. Well if he was better at defending himself this wouldn’t have been a problem,” The subordinate scoffed before Link felt himself being kicked back onto his back once again. Link let out a wheezing breath and flopped his hand roughly against his side feeling for the damage but all he could find was the slice in his armor that seemed to be slick with what had to be blood. 

“Well what do we do with this? Mark it up as a training accident?” The subordinate asked and the Captain let out a quick bark of unamused laughter. 

“Ha, and deal with a tongue lashing? I don’t think so, not for this whelp,” He said and Link watched through half fogged eyes as the Captain stood from where he had been crouching and looked down at him. 

“Is that camp of bokos still lurking around the barracks?” The Captain asked and was answered by an affirmative grunt from the subordinate. Even through the encroaching darkness that was swallowing up his vision, Link could see the devilish smiles that were quickly spreading across the men’s faces. His fingers twitched in the dirt, but that seemed to be all the strength he could muster. 

“We’re going to have to make this look convincing,” the subordinate said, sheathing his sword and moving closer. 

“What if he says something?” He asked as an afterthought and Link felt as hands pulled his helmet roughly from his head and tossed it away with a clatter. Link let his head loll to the side for a moment before he pulled himself back from drifting off. 

“It will be his word against ours, I wouldn’t worry too much,” the Captain said with a sniff as he bent down close and patted his cheek. Link glared at him with all the defiance he could manage. The Captain snorted and gave his cheek a bit of a harder strike that made Link’s eye’s flutter a moment at the sharp sting. 

“We will continue this later, gotta figure out how you do that little trick of yours after all,” He said with a sharp smile. If Link could have said anything he would have raged his defiance, to Hell with the punishments they would have rained down upon him. The Captain seemed to sense what he wanted to say because he let out a low, dangerous chuckle and adjusted his grip on his sword. 

“But for now you’ve got other things to worry about, ” the Captain sneered as he reared back and cracked the pommel of his sword against the side of Link’s head making the world and everything in it disappear in a blink. 

*****

The first thing Wild became aware of when the memory dissipated was the feeling of pressure on his side. The next was the feeling of a bone aching cold that had seeped into his fingertips. He let himself drift for a second, swimming in the lingering disconnect that followed the wake of a remembered memory before awareness and panic flooded his limbs. He had been hurt, bleeding out, he was dying. He gasped and grabbed unsteadily at his side desperate to apply pressure and stop the bleeding but found someone else’s hands already there. Confusion and a muted terror had him scrambling, he didn’t know where he was or who or what had gotten so close to him. 

“Stop, Wild stop!” A gruff voice commanded him but he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to struggle. There was a curse and suddenly the pressure was gone from his side and instead someone was grabbing at his arms. He squirmed in the grip for a moment before his brain caught up with the situation. He blinked and suddenly the world was back in focus and he was staring at the hero of Twilight who was looking at him with a mixture of concern and anger. 

“Damn it Wild, listen to me!” Twilight shouted and Wild felt himself cringe at the sudden rebuke and he quickly stopped moving. Twilight gave him a quick once over, making sure that he had his attention before he went back to pressing a cloth against the slice on Wild’s side. Wild couldn’t help but notice how Twilight’s hands were covered in red and he swallowed thickly. 

“What were you thinking, running off like that?” Twilight scolded as he pressed a bit harder against his side. Wild winced and feeling the desperate need to hide, he pulled at his hood until it covered his face. Twilight apparently didn’t notice his discomfort and continued on as he dug through his pack with one hand, searching for something. 

“How did you find me?” Wild asked in a small voice, and was graced with a stern glare. 

“Four tipped me off that you had run off and the nifty trail of bloody hand prints were a huge help,” He dead panned as he let out a gasp of triumph and forced a bottle of potion into Wild’s shaking hands. 

“Were you trying to hide this from us? You gotta know we don’t do that sort of thing, Hyrule will murder you himself if he ever finds out that you’re hiding an injury,” Twilight started as he gestured for him to drink. 

“What, n-no I wasn’t, I didn’t, I just...” Wild squawked as he fumbled with the cork in the bottle. Nerves and blood loss made the task close to impossible and Twilight grabbed the bottle away and removed the cork and handed it back roughly. 

“You weren’t? Because that's what it looked like to me kid, now drink the damn potion,” He said hotly and Wild could feel humiliated tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

“You scared the Hell out of me!” Twilight continued to rage as he lifted the edge of the cloth away to judge the damage. 

“I was calling for you, and you didn’t answer! Then imagine my horror as I stumbled across you leaning against a damn tree, pale, eyes distant and staring and covered in blood. Hylia help me, I thought you were already dead!” Twilight said and Wild felt shame burning at his throat. He glanced to the side and saw Twilight eyeing him and he hastily sipped at the red potion, grimacing at the bitter taste.  

“Why did you leave?” Twilight asked softly and somehow that tone of voice was even worse than the yelling. Wild swallowed down the lump in his throat, and took another sip of potion before he answered. 

“I was checking for more monsters,” he began lamely before he was cut off by a snort. 

“Bullshit, tell me the truth, Wild! Are you intimidated by us? Did we do something to make you want to hide your injuries? We wouldn’t think you weak for asking for help you know, we would never,” Twilight continued and Wild felt like he was trapped. His foot bounced in irritation and it was all he could do to sit still. 

“No nothing it’s like that!” Wild said quickly and Twilight offered him a confused look in response.

“Then why?” He implored leaning in close so he could look into Wild’s eyes that were hidden beneath the hood. 

“Because I’m broken okay!” Wild shouted suddenly, making Twilight flich at the unexpected volume of the response. Wild’s breaths were quickening as he clung desperately to the bottle in his hands like it was a lifeline. Twilight opened and closed his mouth for a moment not sure what to say. The sight would have been funny if it weren’t for the current situation. 

“Everything was going so well, I thought I had them under control and then just now I felt myself slipping and I couldn’t let you guys see, I didn’t want you to know, not yet,” Wild was babbling he knew but he couldn’t get himself to stop. 

“I thought it would be quick, just a minute or two and I would be fine, but as I was looking for a place to ride it out I noticed the blood and I couldn’t do anything besides hope I wouldn’t be too long,” He was practically hyperventilating now, and Twilight was staring at him wide eyed. 

“Hey, hey calm down, just breathe for a moment.” Twilight soothed as he shuffled closer and placed his free hand on his shoulder. Wild nodded quickly but that was easier said than done. 

His mind was racing, ‘once Twilight finds out he is going to tell the others,’ Wild thought to himself and that thought was enough to shoot panic through his core once again. Twilight will tell them and then they will throw him away. It was clear that he is too broken to be helpful. What team would want someone who could freeze up at any moment, at any possible trigger at any possible time? He was a liability, and now they would all know. 

“I need you to calm down and explain a couple of things please,” He said slowly, like he was trying to calm a wild animal. 

“And while you do that, can you please work on finishing that potion, it will help you feel better,” Twilight coaxed tapping the side of the bottle with a blood stained finger. Wild took a couple more gulping breaths of air and nodded before he sipped on the bitter liquid again. When he was a modicum more calm he began to explain. 

“My adventure, it wasn’t, exactly a smooth one.” He started and already his voice sounded horse and raw. Twilight nodded and gestured for him to continue. 

“I was, still am I suppose, living with the effects of my adventure. I had lost my memories you see, and during my quest I would get these flashes of my past memories.” He said distantly as he looked everywhere except at Twilight. He gave a light cough and continued. 

“These flashes have the unfortunate side effect of me freezing up. Sometimes for a few seconds, other times for minutes at a time. It appears this one just past was one of the longer ones.” He whispered and he could feel Twilight lean in and tap the bottle once more. Wild took another drink, this time not really tasting the disgusting flavor. 

“I’ve had a couple while I have been traveling with you all. Up to this point they were smaller ones, easy to hide for the most part. But this time it seems I got… Unlucky,” He said before finally downing the last of the potion in one quick swig. He felt a chill run down his spine and he handed the empty bottle back over to Twilight who took it slowly. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” He asked as he finally dropped his hands away from the bloodied cloth and stowed away the bottle. 

“Why? I was scared. Scared that once you all found out... “ Wild began and was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He finally looked over at Twilight and found a sad, worried look plastered across his face. 

“You thought we would, what? Throw you out?” He asked and Wild felt a twinge in his heart at the hurt tone that colored Twilight’s voice. 

“Look, I know I am a liability, don’t pretend I’m not. I don’t know what could trigger a memory or when, or even how long they could last. I figured that once you all found out that I am broken beyond repair, that for the good of the whole, you would… “ He couldn’t even finish the sentence. His throat burned too much and just the thought of admitting it hurt his soul. 

“We would never, we all have our secrets Wild. This doesn’t make you broken or even a liability really. It would have been better to have known this sooner, we could have made sure to keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe,” Twilight sighed as he scooted closer and sat next to him. Wild felt the lump in his throat again and he couldn’t find the words to respond. 

“I can understand where you’re coming from though, but this is a good group you can trust,” Twilight said as he tugged at Wild’s sleeve, pulling him closer so he could wrap his arm around his shoulders. 

“How can you be so sure?” Wild muttered thickly. He felt the effects of the red potion as it finished healing him. His head came to rest on the soft pelt that wrapped around Twilight’s shoulders and he sighed. Twilight hummed as he considered how to answer. 

“Well, the people that know my secret haven’t said a word. They trust that I will let the other’s know when I feel comfortable,” Twilight said and Wild leaned away wobbily to look at him. 

“You have a secret?” He asked and noted how his voice sounded just a touch slurred. Twilight chuckled and pulled him close once again.

“I do. In fact how about this, I can tell you’re worried I will tell the others. I know I would be, so I will tell you mine. That way you can tell the other’s my secret if I tell them yours. Does that sound fair to you?” Twilight asked, giving Wild’s shoulders a little squeeze. He thought over the offer for a moment before asking a question of his own.

“What if your secret is something mundane, like…” Wild waved his hand around for a moment as he tried to think of something. 

“Like you secretly like the taste of radishes, or something like that?” He asked and Twilight let out a loud bellowing laugh. 

“You don’t like radishes?” He asked and Wild pulled away again to level a look at him.

“No one likes radishes Twi, anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to sell you something,” Wild watched as Twilight practically sobbed with mirth and waited patiently for him to finish. 

“I promise, my secret is way bigger than that. Now do we have a deal? You look about three seconds away from falling asleep and we still need to make it back to camp.” He said and Wild huffed and nodded as he laid his aching head against the farmer’s pelted shoulder again.

“Alright then, you know that wolf that shows up every once in a while in camp, or to bring you and Hyrule back to the group?” Twilight asked tapping against Wild’s forehead to get his attention before he slowly helped him to his feet. Wild wobbled a bit as he regained his footing, and Twilight took his arm  and laid it across his shoulders, baring some of Wild’s weight. Wild sagged against him gratefully and together they slowly started back towards camp. 

“Well that wolf isn’t what it seems,” Twilight hedged and Wild snorted. 

“Yeah we all know that the wolf isn’t a wild one, come on Twi. If your secret is that that wolf is your pet then you’re gonna have to do better than that,” Wild scoffed and he could feel Twilight shaking ever so slightly where his hands held onto him. 

“You are kind of right, that wolf is not wild.” Twilight said and Wild eyed him and waited.

“I know this because I am, in fact, that wolf,” Twilight said and Wild felt his jaw fall open in surprise. He had not been expecting that and he found his next question tumbling out of him before he could really register what he had just been told. 

“You’re the what now?” Wild gaped and he could feel the tremor grow more pronounced. Twilight coughed and refused to look at him. 

“I am that wolf. It is one of the… I guess you called it side effects from my adventure.” Twilight said as they moved through the brush towards camp. Wild had to actively work to close his mouth. He hated to admit it but he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around it. Whether that was due to the blood loss and the potion he had taken, or simply just the oddity that was Twilight’s admission was yet to be seen. 

“Twi, are you serious?” He asked and he watched as Twilight swallowed. Now it was his turn to look at everything else around them.

“I am serious, and I don’t know how the others haven’t figured that out yet. I mean look at the marks on my skin for the love of the Goddess.” He said with a nervous chuckle. Wild nodded slowly, not really sure what to say. He could tell that this was a big secret that he just entrusted to him and that made a warm glow bloom in his chest. Wild could feel a smile slowly spreading across his face at the thought. He felt honored that Twilight was willing to put his trust in him and it was at that moment that he knew he would never betray Twilight.  

“You can trust me Twi, I will never tell a soul under one condition, you answer a question for me,” Wild said and he felt Twilight stiffen under his arm. 

“Okay, what is your burning question then?” He asked and Wild felt a grin spread across his face. 

“Do you actually like radishes?”

#holy crow #this is so cool #300 followers #i can’t even #thank you all so much #secretlysheikah #the sheikah writes #one-shot #linked universe #wild linked universe #twilight linked universe #linked universe fanfic #linked universe one shot #linkeduniverse #loz #legend of zelda #angst #wild linked universe angst

[curlsofsagesmoke]

More Analysis of Leadership in TMNT because I Cannot Be Stopped

(really at this point these are just notes for myself as I work on my really long really ambitious tmnt fic, but this is also kind of a follow up to that first analysis I did of the Leo/donnie leadership plot line.)

I've already discussed Leo and donnie as leaders, but I was thinking about season 3, and there are some really interesting moves that the writers make in terms of Raph maturing as a leader in Northampton (and donnie kind of getting the short end of the stick, but what else is new).

so aside from how poorly the writers handled the Leo/donnie plot, which I discussed in the post I linked above, it seems like the season two finale was meant to be the writers' way of saying "hey look we gave donnie a chance to lead and he fucked up, so now we're gonna pass the mantle onto raph." because raph does slip into the leader role in Northampton.

on the one hand, it's annoying to see donnie's leadership potential get shunted aside yet again. I do think all four of them have the potential to be great leaders if they have the chance to mature and develop their skills, so I'm not mad at raph getting the chance to be a good leader. however, the writer's spent two seasons building up donnie's potential as leader, and, as I've mentioned before, we get no closure from them abandoning this plot line. in the farmhouse arc, donnie (and Mikey!) gets forced into that goofy, slightly less competent younger brother role that we saw most often in season one (regarding the a-team/b-team thing).

on the other hand, I love to see any kind of character development for these characters, because it's so rare for anyone in TMNT (2012) to go through lasting change. like seriously, there is not one single stable character arc in the entire show. and raph does make a pretty good leader! his problem with leading (seen in New Girl in Town) is that he panics under pressure. out at the farmhouse, where the threats aren't as serious as the ones they faced in the city, raph becomes a pretty good leader. he's the one watching over and encouraging Leo, training with April and casey, and attempting to continue donnie and Mikey's training in the forest. he's calmer, seems less angry, and is more mature. we do love to see it.

admittedly, this could've fit in really well with the "donnie as leader" plot started in seasons one and two. the invasion was a huge blow to donnie's pride and it probably did shake his confidence in himself a lot. if the plot line had continued into season three, the farmhouse arc could've been a good way for donnie to kind of recover from the failure that was the invasion. we could've seen him struggle to accept his mistakes and learn to overcome his self doubt, the way that Leo did in season one (many times).

raph becoming the de facto leader could've fit in, too! not only would it have been an obstacle for donnie to overcome (aka accepting that just because raph is a good leader on the farm doesn't mean donnie is a bad one in the city) but it probably would've been a good character move for raph, too. raph would've gained a deeper understanding of Leo's burdens and responsibilities, and it's a good way to show how he's matured over the course of two and a half seasons.

and the vision quest episode (kind of the only episode in the whole farmhouse arc where anyone undergoes any kind of serious character development) would've been sick as hell if this plot was continued. because as it stands, vision quest doesn't make a whole lot of sense. they all have challenges to overcome, but the writers tried to force the characters back into the roles they occupied in season one. donnie needed to learn to use his strength as well as his mind, raph needed to learn to control his temper, mikey needed to learn to focus, and Leo needed to overcome his injury (which the splinter-ghost implies is a mental/spiritual block that Leo put in his own path).

but that doesn't make any sense! it's been two and a half seasons at this point, and there should've been more nuanced challenges. Raph's temper in season three isn't nearly as bad as in season one, and it doesn't make sense for him to have to go through that whole learning moment again. same with mikey and his focus; yes he's still immature and easily distracted, but not nearly as much as in season one. donnie's strength challenge is dumb, too, because it's not strength that allows him to defeat tiger claw---it's leverage, which is more of a mental victory than a physical one. and don't even get me started on Leo. "pain is all in your head" is quite possibly the worst lesson in the history of fiction. Leo went through serious trauma and almost died, and splinter-ghost expected him to simply ignore it, as if it was like doubt holding him back? he need physical therapy, not to have to fight a giant shredder in some kind of weird spirit world.

imagine this instead. Mikey's challenge is stillness. he doesn't have a problem focusing when he needs to, but he's a very physical person, and he needs to learn to use his head: to calm himself down, to be still, etc. etc. Raph's challenge is similar. he needs to learn to control his emotions; not just anger, but also his panic and anxiety. he needs to pull himself back into the moment when he gets overwhelmed and prevent himself from panicking when things go wrong. donnie's challenge is confidence. after the invasion, understandably he's shaken and he's probably having trouble trusting himself as a leader, so he needs to learn to accept failure and trust his skills and his instincts. and Leo's challenge is patience. at the farmhouse he gets frustrated really easily by how slowly he's healing, and in the invasion he lost his patience really fast when he and donnie fought. during the vision quest he needs to learn to have patience with himself and not push his limits too far.

I don't even have a conclusion for this little rant. at this point I'm just salty about the writing in the show---not that the writing is straight up bad. it just seems like the writers didn't care about the characters enough to include character depth, character arcs, or meaningful relationships between the characters when they were writing the show. but I guess that's why I'm writing that fic; if you can see the problem, you can fix it, and boy do I see a lot of problems.

#wow another rant #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #donatello #raphael #michelangelo #Leo 2012 #donnie 2012 #raph 2012 #mikey 2012 #casey jones #April o'neil #fic #actually this is a shameless plug for my fic as well #rant

[cheri-translates]

Alone on Christmas

A one-shot dedicated to my Secret Santa partner, @beautiful-mystic-mess​

♡ MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU PRECIOUS GIRL ♡

And major appreciation to @ginkgowritings​ who initiated this wholesome exchange and for feeding us quality Gavin content :>

Mildly suggestive!

[ a week before christmas ]

“How could you do this?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You. Are. The. Worst. Boyfriend. Ever.”

“I know.”

“How could you leave your adorable girlfriend alone on Christmas?”

“Mm, she’s adorable.”

“...”

A zephyr rakes up dried leaves, pulling them into a dance in mid-air. This dazzling display would have left you in awe, if you weren’t currently fuming.

Gavin presses a chaste kiss to your right temple. You huff, a cloud of mist leaving your parted lips.

It’s nearly impossible to stay mad at him.

“I’m going to miss this,” you grumble, voice slightly muffled by the azure scarf you’re sharing with him. 

Giving your laced hands an angry squeeze in the left pocket of his jacket, Gavin halts in his footsteps in the middle of the empty park.

“I’ll only be gone for two weeks, and even though I might not be contactable…” his voice falters when he sees the tears prickling the corners of your eyes, glistening under the glow of streetlights.

Eyes widening, he quickly removes himself from the scarf and stands in front of you, wrapping the wool evenly around your shoulders. Cradling your face, he tilts your chin upwards and gently scoops away the pearly droplets with his calloused thumbs. 

“I really am the worst boyfriend,” he murmurs, slight panic in his eyes.

The last thing you want Gavin to see before he leaves tomorrow is your crying face.

You smack him in the chest, then turn away to rub the heels of your palms roughly against your face. However, it’s a futile effort as the tears return in a continuous, unrelenting supply.

“What if... what if something happens?” You choke, words surfacing in a blubber as you sob messily.

Gavin turns you around to face him, as though he’s inspecting a fragile antique. He draws you into an embrace, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

A light swirl of wind tangles and tosses the scent of mint in your surroundings.

“Nothing will happen. I promise.” he whispers into your hair.

He draws back, flitting his lips across your face, every peck removing the tears, the sadness of his impending departure, and the clouds of uncertainty. 

The ticklish sensation causes you to giggle.

Gavin gazes into your slightly reddened eyes, then brings your right hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your engagement ring.

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

--

[ four days before christmas ]

The house is silent, save for the occasional tapping of the keyboard and the almost imperceptible whirring of Sparky Jr. Jr. the Zoombot.

“Maybe Kiro’s Christmas album could turn this gloomy season around,” you muse to yourself, scrolling through your playlist before settling on a bubbly rendition of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” to inject some festive vibes into the room.

Leaning back against your chair, you return your gaze to the document on the laptop screen. You thought burying yourself in work would make the days more bearable. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have such a desired effect.

Whenever you worked at home, Gavin would drop by the study room and bring you warm drinks, your favourite snacks, and words of encouragement to keep your momentum going.

You stare at the pink, bunny-shaped post-it note stuck to the top right corner of the laptop: I’ll be home soon. You can do this, my girl.

He had stuck it there before he left. But it seems he’s also taken your motivation along with him.

You sigh.

--

[ christmas day ]

The dullness of winter hangs above you as you drag your feet down the familiar street, boots sinking into the soft snow. 

The streets are livelier than usual, with raucous children pressing their ruddy cheeks against the glass windows, cooing over the newest toys.

Aside from you, no one is alone. Seeing everyone accompanied by their partner, friends and family gives you a stark reminder of how the person you wanted to spend Christmas with is currently in an unknown location and in an unknown condition.

Catching sight of your gloomy reflection in a glass window, you hurriedly smoothen the crease in between your brows, perking yourself up. You don’t want to ruin the company’s Christmas party for everyone.

This year, your contribution to the party is in the form of baking Christmas goodies. Not wanting to mess it up, you even sought the advice of Victor beforehand on how to make the perfect chocolate cupcakes. 

Although the goodies turned out slightly different from the images he sent you, you trust that your employees wouldn't dare to complain given that the fate of their monthly salaries rests in your hands. At least, not in your presence.

--

After storing the box of cupcakes in the pantry’s fridge, you head over to the main office. 

“Boss!” Minor greets enthusiastically once you step inside, squatting down next to the Christmas tree standing tall in the corner of the room.

Although the branches are already weighed down with tons of decorations, Minor continues digging through the cardboard box filled with ornaments, seeking to further embellish it.

“We’re almost done,” Kiki says proudly, taking a step back to admire the tree. “All that’s left is for Eli to-"

“Kiki!” Willow interrupts loudly. “I think we need more fairy lights.”

“Eli?” You repeat, utterly confused. “Wh-”

“Anyway,” Anna pipes up, handing you a Santa hat so you can match with the rest of them. “Since you’ve been such a wonderful boss, we thought we should give you something you’re sure to love.”

“Yes, make a guess!” Minor chimes in, standing up and clasping his hands together excitedly. “We’ll give you three tries.”

A thud from the file cabinet draws everybody’s attention. The door swings open, revealing none other than a familiar figure curled up in a foetal position at the bottom shelf.

But how is this possible? 

A ghost? 

Did you finally go insane after plowing through all those proposals for Victor over the past few days?

“Bro Gavin! You were supposed to wait for our signal!” Minor huffs in mild irritation.

“...it’s really cramped.”

You watch, frozen in position, as he struggles to extricate himself from the clutches of the cabinet. 

Straightening up and patting some dust off his hands, his face breaks out into a handsome, slightly sheepish smile as he mouths your name. 

“Gavin!” You lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He responds instinctively by pressing you closer to himself, and you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he chuckles softly.

Ignoring the flush on your cheeks when you hear whistles from around you, you draw back, staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

Then, you fire a series of questions at Officer Gavin:

“Are you real?”

“Yes.”

“When did you get back?”

“This morning. The mission ended earlier than expected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to give you a surprise.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nope...?”

“Gavin helped with the decorations.” Kiki pipes up excitedly, pointing at the unevenly cut paper snowflake garlands strung on the walls.

Catching the hesitance in Gavin’s response and Kiki’s input, you lift his hands up. As expected, you notice the razor-thin paper cuts donning his fingers. 

You bring them to your lips, blowing on them. “My Gavin is a poor liar as always.”

“And I thought their posts on Moments were bad enough...” Minor gripes good-naturedly, gesturing for everyone to leave the room. “We’ll go decorate the pantry now~”

Knowing glances are exchanged among the group as they flee from the scene, giving the two of you some privacy.

All the heaviness in your heart from the days before seem to melt away as you stand on your tiptoes, kissing him with all the fiery passion you have in your being. You can feel him laughing against your lips.

“It’s only been seven days,” he breathes in between kisses. You feel like crying with joy, but only laughter bubbles from your throat. Breathless and blissful laughter.

“Seven days is too long,” You respond, planting kisses on whatever skin you can reach on his handsome face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he echoes. He pulls your face away from his just so he can simply look at you, his liquid pools of amber drinking you in.

The door slams open with a thud.

“Did anyone miss me?” Eli bellows, strolling into the room with a tower of presents.

-

The party commences soon after that. Gifts are exchanged (Minor knitted Thorny a mini Santa hat), glasses are clinked, and separate conversations take place.

While it’s nice to be a part of the liveliness, you feel pretty overwhelmed and drained soon after. Offering to bring the cupcakes out, you politely excuse yourself from the intense discussion with the girls on which was the worst Christmas movie on Netflix this year.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Gavin is currently engaged in a conversation with Minor (though it looks more like a one-sided effort on the latter’s part). You decide not to disturb their moment of bonding, and head out by yourself.

-

Taking small sips from a glass of water, you fiddle mindlessly with the round magnets on the refrigerator, relishing this short breather. 

Once you feel sufficiently rested, you pull the fridge doors open, retrieving the familiar box.

“Are you okay?”

The sudden voice causes you to jolt, and you almost drop your precious cupcakes.

"Mm, I’m fine. Just bringing the desserts out," you tell Gavin with a shrug.

"That can wait," he says simply. One large hand glides between yours and the tray, snatching it away, and sliding it onto the counter next to you. “I said I’d make it up to you when I got back.”

Now that the obstruction is out of the way, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours. You giggle, hands moving up to lace through his hair as you try to bring him closer than he already is. 

He crushes you tightly against his body, easily lifting your feet off the ground and seating you atop the counter. There isn’t even enough room for air to fit between the both of you.

His teeth travel upwards, grazing the soft lobe of your ear, making you shiver deliciously.

“Gavin, not... not now,” you’re trying very hard to keep your volume down. 

“Hm?” His warm breath tickles your skin. Caressing your cheek, he peppers feathery kisses down your jawline, ending with gentle licks and nibbles on your neck. “Why not?”

What happened to the boy who used to blush at the mere thought of talking to you?

“We’re in the office,” you respond lamely, attempting to pry him away without using any strength whatsoever. Your body betrays you, and you feel your grip around his neck tightening so he couldn’t go anywhere even if he tried.

Someone in the doorway clears their throat.

As though you got scalded, you release your hold on him and hop off the counter.

You lift your head to see a teasing Eli, his brows arched in bemusement as he splays his fingers over his eyes. "Please refrain from using the office furniture inappropriately.”

While you smoothen your slightly rumpled clothes and, Eli stuffs a Santa hat into Gavin’s hand. 

“Here,” Eli says, injecting faux urgency into his voice. “Wear this.”

“No.”

Already expecting Gavin to refuse from the get-go, Eli waggles his brows.

“If you wear it, maybe you could...” His voice dips into an audible whisper. “Slide into her chimney tonight.”

Gavin coughs, dealing a painful blow to Eli’s torso. “Get out.”

“Ah, my spleen.” Eli winces exaggeratedly, grabbing the box of goodies off the counter. “I’ll keep the others occupied. Please lock the door next time. You’re welcome.”

With a wink, he makes his way back to the meeting room, shutting the door with a click.

Pretending that you didn’t hear Eli’s comment, you meet Gavin’s gaze once again. After staring each other for a few seconds, the two of you burst into embarrassed laughter.

He takes you into his arms with a contented sigh, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head.

"Merry Christmas. I’m happy to be home.”

-

ENDING THIS WITH ANOTHER POOR EDIT:

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #cheri tries to write

[whump-town]

Pretending

@genevievedarcygranger and I are dorks so here is my take on the thing we did together

Fingers stretch up past his throat, a thick arm pushing at the walls of his esophagus. Stretching it until his head is pushed back, lips parting to breathe around the obstruction. The fingers find his brain, wiggling and tearing through the dura mater as if it’s nothing more than jello. His thoughts shift sluggishly to when Jack was just a baby. The beaming sun against his back as he held his son on one knee, watching in horror as Jack smacked and tore through the cake in front of him with chubby grabbing fingers. He can feel those fingers cupping at his brain, making his knees weak and his body light. Aired out thoughts as nothing lays between his mouth and his thoughts. As if he could float away.

“Daddy?”

Leaning forward on the bench, Hotch presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Post Traumatic Stress, he’s sure Reid would identify easily enough, is crippling him right where he stands. In every little thing that he does. He’d just stepped outside for a book in the yard he left on the chair after watching Jack swing and been hit with such intense panic he’d fallen down into the grass. Couldn’t think or move. Jack had found him hunched over himself pressing his forehead into the warm ground, trying to think past the feeling of his paralyzed lungs.

The park had been their compromise - Jack lives in intervals and the park is a fantastic compromise to easily forget what he’s seen.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, clenching his jaw and focusing on the burn of the sun against his back. It takes an excruciating amount of energy but he lifts his head back up. Settles an unsteady smile and red-rimmed eyes on his son. With a hand that tremors, he cups Jack’s cheek. “What is it, buddy? Want help going across the monkey bars again?”

Jack frowns at him - a face Haley used to love. She’d laugh until she cried, always assuring him that he makes the exact same face. And despite the fact that he’s supposed to be making sure Jack has a normal childhood he’s crying in the park. Thinking about when Jack was so small he fit in the crook of Hotch’s elbow. Flailing asleep in the nursery counting Jack’s little breathes, terrified of what would happen if he walked away. Haley sitting in his lap, the two of them watching the boy they brought into the world together. How Haley had warned him he was going to blink and find he’d lost everything and now he’s sitting on a park bench having taken it all from her.

“Sorry,” Hotch rasps. He rubs his eyes, clearing his throat and forcing his body upright more. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Monkey bars?” He pushes himself up onto his feet, smiling as he offers Jack his hand. Waiting for the boy to grow distracted again by the overwhelming amount of options of things to climb on.

Jack looks over his shoulder to the monkey bars, envy burning his chest as he watches a girl older than him make her way across them. “Yes please,” he chirps, his small fingers wrapping around Hotch’s calloused ones. He beams up at his father, seeing only the man that takes him to the park and cuts his sandwiches into shapes that vaguely resemble dinosaurs. Past the sadness and how tired he is. “One day,” Jack says, pouring his concentration into jumping over the raised edge of the playground. He holds Hotch’s hand a little tighter, giggling when Hotch pulls him up even higher. He lands with a grunt and grins back at Hotch. “One day,” he continues, “I’m gonna be big and strong and --” Jack trips over his feet as he eagerly tears off for the monkey bars. He manages to stay upright. “One day I’m gonna be all growned up, just like you! And then I’m not gonna need no help!”

Hotch nods, following at a slower pace. Between the heat and sweater he’d chosen to wear (to cover the bruises still purpling and angry up his arms) he’s hot and the weakness of his body from too little sleep is draining him rapidly. He knows making it back to the car - a distance of only a few yards - will leave him light-headed and vision hazing. His body aches needs sleep and rest but he has to take care of a four-year-old and both of those things are nearly impossible.

“I wanna be as tall as you!” Jack says, pulling himself up on one of the bars. “Do you think I can?” Jack asks as Hotch ducks down into the contraption. “Mommy said I could,” Jack informs him. “She said I’d be just like you!” He beams at Hotch as he says this, thrilled by the idea of being just like his father. Tall and strong and nice and funny.

Hotch nods.

“But your hair is the wrong color,” Jack pouts.

Hotch smiles, genuinely, at that.

Jack doesn’t understand the amusement and frowns. “Why isn’t your hair yellow?”

Hotch bends down and picks Jack up, holding him around his hips so that Jack can reach up and grab onto the bars above his head. It makes his ribs flare up but he doesn't pay the pain any mind, it won’t stop him. “My mom and dad had dark hair. You have mommy’s hair,” Hotch says. Haley promised this constant talking phase would eventually wear off but Jessica’s theory was that it was just Jack’s way of making up for the “creepy” way Haley and Hotch never seemed to have to have verbal conversations. Haley just rolled her eyes and repeated her earlier promise - little kids just like to talk your ear off, he’d stop with age.

Hotch hopes he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you have mommy’s hair?”

Hotch smirks, “it doesn’t work like that, buddy.” They get to the end and Jack kicks his legs. “Want to drop down?” Jack makes a panicked sound, clearly not liking that idea. One of his hands leaves the bars and grabs Hotch’s wrist so that Hotch can’t let go. “Alright,” Hotch relents. “Do you wanna go again?”

“Yeah!” Jack just let's go, trusting Hotch will catch him. “Just one more time, though. Cause then I’m gonna go down the slide.”

“Alrighty.”

They begin again. Jack is light but Hotch’s ribs scream from having his arms raised up. The bones of his hand groaning as pressure is placed on them. It makes him light-headed, the sharp pain and the dull swelter of the heat. He steps forward, knee buckling, but he keeps both hands on Jack - the boy doesn’t notice.

“Good job,” Hotch praises, voiced rasped as Jack finishes. He lets Jack turn and settle down into his arms, pulled in against his side. Jack pulls both his hands down, showing his father the red patches of irritated skin. “Does it hurt?” Hotch asks. His thumb is nearly the size of Jack’s palm as he presses over the hurt. “That’s how you get callouses,” Hotch mumbles lowly, smirking at Jack’s surprise.

Jack forgets the pain in an instant. “You promise?”

Hotch hums his confirmation and Jack eagerly squirms at the idea. Hotch sets him down on his feet and Jack jumps up excitedly. “Daddy,” Jack calls, turning around and tearing off in the direction of the other equipment. “I’m gonna go to the slide!” Jack pays him no more mind and with a sigh, Hotch leans into the metal bar to his left. Knees shaking and head spinning.

He pushes himself upright, glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eye. He’s in the clear, he knows, but he’s still careful. Makes sure to keep his gait even and strong as he clears the space between monkey bars and the rest of the playground to the bench screaming his name.

“Daddy!” Jack yells from the top of the slide, waving.

Hotch stops and waves back, waiting for Jack to get distracted again before forcing himself forward. He sinks, bone-tired, back onto the bench. Scared that if he’s upright for another moment he’ll pass out. His vision swarms and dips with the heat around him, logged by his exhaustion.

He feels something splash on his pants and at first, he ignores it as just a ghost sensation. They happen and he’s anxious and uncomfortable enough he’s sure his body is just playing all kinds of cruel jokes at his expense. When isn’t it? It happens again a few minutes later but it’s not the same feeling. He looks down and he sees blood-- not just a stain that happens to be red, he sees blood far too often to mistake it for anything else-- and glances over to his left to locate Jack. The boy is obviously to him, shouting happily as he shoots down the slide. He lifts his hips enough to work his hand into his pocket to the handkerchief nearly all his pants carry. He presses the material to his nose, faking to just wipe it in case either of Jack looks over.

His nose is bleeding.

Back when he worked in Seattle, he’d seen a guy get shot in the leg. The bullet nicked an artery and he’d seen that bright blood, the way it gushed so quickly it was hard to put pressure over the flow. Frozen in fear, he’d never seen anything like that. Sitting here on this bench he looks down at the bright blood and gets lost. Frozen once again.

“Daddy!”

Hotch swallows thickly, grimacing at the taste of the blood that’s slid down the back of his throat. He clamps his hand over his nose, still smiling despite the fact that Jack can’t see it. “Hey-” Tears swell in Jack’s eyes as he sees the blood. “I’m okay,” Hotch assures. “It’s just a little blood, buddy.”

Jack whines softly, clearly not convinced. “Daddy, I wanna go home.” He tugs at Hotch’s sleeve. “Can we call Aunt Jess now,” Jack asks, anxiously. He worries the fabric of Hotch’s pants between his fingers, shifting as he waits for a reply.

He wants to assure Jack that they can stay a little longer but he sees the tears pouring down Jack’s face and Hotch nods. He leans to the side, digging his phone out of his pocket. It’s probably not his most coherent text but he manages to put together a few words - the letters all a blur - and it takes only a moment for her to respond. She’s on her way. He sags forward, head falling into his hand. “I’m sorry Jack.” He feels Jack’s hand come up to rest against his cheek, his warm palm sliding until Jack is hugging him. Even if he has to stand up on his toes.

Jack squeezing his neck. “It’s okay,” Jack assures him. “Me ‘n Jess are gonna get you a bandaid and a popsicle and then you’re gonna be all better.” Jack doesn’t let go. “It’s gonna be okay, right Daddy?”

Jack’s conviction is so strong that Hotch doesn’t bother explaining that he can’t put a bandaid over his nose and that it’s going to take more than a popsicle to fix this mess he’s created. But for now, he’ll let Jack hold onto him and “help” him walk to the car. He’ll let Jessica smother him with her worry and take it in stride because it’s important Jack understands getting help is just a part of life - even if each time Jessica touches him his stomach will roll.

He’ll choke down enough of his dinner to assure everyone he’s fine.

And, with any luck, he’ll manage to pretend his way into truly being okay.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s gonna be okay.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

[celosiaa]

enough for now

A gift for @taylortut​ who I love so very much!! She didn’t ask for it but I did the dang thing anyway based on things that you’ve said you like! I hope this brings some little bit of extra good to your day, my dear <3 even if it is a lil angsty lol

CW flashback, panic attack

Focus. Focus.

You’re wasting your time.

You’ve already wasted enough.

Hunched over his desk, Tim squints against the dim light of his lamp scattering across the stacks of files and books and blueprints littered across it. He had been nursing a migraine all day—all week, really—and had no real choice at this point but to get used to it, carry on, shove it all down. Since no one had bothered to tell him that the Circus was what they were after, he has a lot of catching up to do, research that Martin should have known he himself would not be capable of.

Added to the fact of his most recent attempt to escape this hellhole making him sick and weak. Again. So here he was, drinking in the sustenance of whatever godforsaken thing that keeps him here, hour after hour making him stronger. All because he let his anger rule again. Ran away.

Just keep on running then, Tim.

Coward.

Christ. One fight with Danny, and it still stings.

Because it’s true.

You left him you left him you left him there with that thing—

Blood—torch—stage—lights—clown—Danny Danny Danny Danny—

Stop stop stop

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he can’t help the small noise that escapes him—though he does not hear it over the fading static in his own ears.

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

Breathe in; breathe out. One moment to the next. What his therapist taught him after…after. After nothing. There’s nothing, there never was, there’s only now. There’s only the Circus. There’s only his migraine, pounding pounding pounding against his skull, the fury, the bitterness, the knowledge that he’s caught in a trap he’ll never crawl out of—

THUD.

Easily startled these days, Tim jumps bodily at the sound, snapping his head around toward its source. He had not thought anyone would still be here at this hour, as he’d seen Martin go home hours ago for some desperately-needed sleep, and the others had gone out to the pub that night. They couldn’t be here, could they? Surely the archive has protections against those creatures since…

Since nothing.

Nothing happened.

Nothing is happening.

The crash had come from Jon’s office, he’s sure of that. It reminds him of other days; other times when that sound would send him fetching a sports drink from the break room, checking to make sure Jon hadn’t hit his head on anything whenever his POTS flared badly. When they had been friends; brothers, even. Near enough to it anyway.

No, nothing else could have made that sound. Jon was back.

Standing on his own somewhat-shaky legs, Tim gives himself a moment for his vision to clear before striding toward the darkened office door, fury already rising in him at the idea that he was being watched again, distrusted again, betrayed again. He swings the door open.

“Finally decided to show u—oh god.”

Lying on his back on the floor is Jon, beard fuller than he’s ever seen it, painfully thin and grey as a ghost. His clothes hang off him as if three sizes too large, the ones Tim knew had once fitted him snugly, not even a few months prior. What in god’s name had happened to him that he was this emaciated? This ashen?

What had he done this time?

Anger bubbles even stronger now, tingling at the back of his spine.

But something…something feels off about this. Enough for him to bury the resentment, if only for a moment. Just to make sure.

Why do you care?

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

“Jon,” Tim says loudly, crouching down beside him, shaking his shoulder in the process. “Hey, up and at ‘em.”

But there’s nothing—not the usual small gasp as he comes around from the faints caused by POTS, no twitching, only stillness. Tim’s stomach does a turn as he checks Jon’s head for bleeding, any sign of injury, but nothing. Nothing at all.

What the hell happened?

Glancing around him for anything to do, he spots a file box within arms reach that he drags over towards them, propping Jon’s feet upon it. He rolls up his sleeve a bit then, to feel his pulse—and finds himself distracted by the bone-dry nature of  his skin beneath his fingers; the slight shuddering of his limbs. But his face has almost a sheen to it, unnatural, unnerving.

“Jon,” Tim repeats, a bit louder, patting at his exposed bit of arm. “Come on, you’re alright.”

A bit of a moan this time, a deeper breath—and Tim lets out a breath of his own, one he had not realized he had been holding.

“Mmm.”

“Wake up, Jon,” he says loudly, shaking his shoulder for a second time.

At this, Jon’s entire frame tenses under his hand, eyes flying wide open to scan feverishly around the room.

“Woah, easy,” Tim barks, a bit alarmed. “Easy. Just stay down.”

It seems that Jon had either not heard him, or had chosen to ignore—as he sits up rather abruptly against Tim’s hand on his shoulder, this time locking eyes with him. But before Tim can recover from his surprise enough to speak, Jon’s eyelids begin to flutter again. He’s about to go down.

“Lie down, Jon. Lie back down.”

He’s sure Jon didn’t have much of a choice anyway, but Tim finds himself glad that he happened to be there to prevent him smacking his head against the industrial carpeting all the same. Something is wrong wrong wrong, and it sends away all his rage for the time being—and he is filled with that instinct to protect Jon, from himself or from something else. He cannot even bring himself to care which at the moment.

“Wh—Tim,” Jon slurs with effort, some recognition in his expression at last.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

With a pang in his chest, Tim realizes he does not know whether or not that will bring him comfort.

“I’m gonna get you some water, alright?”

No reply—merely a distant look in his eyes as he brings a hand up to press against his own cheek, shaking with the effort of it. Bad, this is bad. He’s never this out of it when he comes back around; not even after they had woken up quarantined together in the hospital, dozens of deep wounds covering both of them in the wake of the Prentiss attack.

Focus. Water, food, then questions.

“Just—just stay there, for god’s sake.”

Wobbling a bit against the disorientation of his migraine, Tim brushes a hand all along the walls to the break room, crossing his fingers that Jon (or perhaps Martin) had restocked Jon’s Lucozade supply. As luck would have it, there are a few left over from whenever Jon had last shown up to work in the archives. Tim had not taken care to keep track.

He doesn’t deserve it.

Not anymore.

Stop; he has to stop—more thinking like that, and he knows he will leave Jon stranded on the floor of his office, only to be found by a newly-infuriated Martin in the morning. And in what condition…Tim could not say. Where had he been all this time? And why did he look so awful?

He grabs a cereal bar from the counter top on the way out of the room.

When he returns to Jon’s office, his stomach drops at the empty space on the floor where Jon had been—until he spots him, sitting with his back pressed up against the back wall of the room, between the bookshelf and the filing cabinet.

“Thought I told you to stay put,” Tim mutters irritably. Though he has to admit, he feels something tight unraveling a bit in his chest at seeing him able to sit up. No matter how ill he looks.

“Tim,” he says in a voice of gravel and salt, as if to reassure himself of its truth.

“Yeah, bad luck.”

Tim takes the cue of the fearful look in Jon’s eyes as he stares up at him, and sits at a bit of a distance on the floor within his eyeline.

“Drink this,” he orders, opening the cap of the Lucozade before holding it out toward him. “Slowly. You look like shit.”

He had been hoping that Jon would simply roll his eyes and respond with a sardonic “thank you,” but…nothing. Instead, he can barely keep hold of the bottle, watching it shaking in his own hand before tentatively bringing it up to his lips. Just a sip—and it’s enough to rattle something in him, seeming to bring him around to the present a bit. He downs the next sips with more confidence, less hesitance. With a great deal of satisfaction, Tim starts unwrapping the cereal bar, ready to hand it to him whenever he was ready.

“M’sorry for this,” he murmurs after a few minutes have passed in silence, no longer meeting Tim’s eyes.

“What the hell happened, Jon?” Tim asks in desperation, needing to know where to put his anger. Shutting down the part of himself that hoped could be placed on Jon again.

Silence greets him. No indication that Jon had even heard him.

Until the shaking begins.

The bottle drops to the floor as shuddering overwhelms his grip—and both hands fly into his hair, clutching hard at it, pressing balled fists into the sides of his newly-ashen face. As his breath picks up speed, so does Tim’s heart, and he wants so badly to reach for him. More than anything, he wants his touch to be the comfort it once had been, anything to stop this from happening. But he had burned that bridge ages ago now.

So did he, he reminds himself. So did he.

“What happened?” he repeats, a little softer all the same.

“Nothing,” Jon whispers, offering just the faintest hint of a smile, a flash, before it fades. “Nothing ha—happened.”

A knife.

A knife in Tim’s chest.

Stop thinking stop thinking stop thinking

“Where have you been, then?”

Even as he keeps his voice low, the shuddering picks up speed and intensity, taking Jon’s breath up to something approaching hyperventilation.

“It’s f-fine,” he stammers between gasps. “Fine, don’—ha—don’t.”

“Whatever this is, it’s not fine.”

A small bit of laughter, then—choked, cut off by his own desperation for air. He tips his head back against the wall behind him, drawing his legs up even tighter as he tries to find his breath.

“The—Cir—ha—Circus.”

Tim’s body is flooded with ice; pins and needles pricking at his scalp, the tips of his fingers.

“Breathe, Jon,” he murmurs through his own lightheadedness, has to push through. “What do you mean, the Circus?”

“Got—got me,” comes the awful reply. The one he had been dreading.

What had they done to him?

How long was he there?

Why was he allowed to escape, and not Danny?

Shut it down shut it down shut it down

Be here. Be now.

“Breathe, Jon.” A little closer, still not touching. Wouldn’t dare. “Just breathe, alright?”

“S’fine.” Another laugh, a small, panicked smile. It makes Tim sick.

“No—ha—nothing. Ha-happened.”

You’re lying you’re lying you’re lying

Danny’s gone, and you’re here, and you’re lying.

“Ah—ha—Tim.”

Even so, something in Jon’s voice, his panic, his absolute terror over whatever is happening in his head right now breaks through the bubbling wall of fury rising around Tim’s heart. It may be back tomorrow, or the next hour, or the next minute. But Jon needs him.

Jon needs him, and that’s enough for now.

“Breathe, Jon,” he murmurs softly, moving slowly to take his hand in both of his own. Not even a flinch from him—just squeezing tight enough to bruise, tight enough to anchor himself here, tight enough to remind Tim of better days, better times. Times when this would never have been a burden. When his presence would be enough of a comfort to bring him back down.

“You’re safe. You’re safe now, and I’m here.”

For the moment, it’s the truth. Tim will take this moment and bury it later, deep deep deep, where the other memories of their friendship now live. Easy to forget; easy to look past in anger.

But, for now.

“Breathe, Jon. I’m here. I’m right here.”

#tma #my writing #cw panic attack #cw flashback #hurt/comfort

[weeb-stomper]

Won’t be Without You

Villain Deku x Fem!Hero!Reader

A/N: Hello! This is my first fan fiction that I’ve written. It’s completely unedited, so I’m sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors. Feel free to message me with suggestions and corrections, I appreciate any input you’d take the time to offer! 

Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, violence against reader, language

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

     A dizzying sense of nausea crashed over you like a wave from the ocean, stirring you from unconsciousness. A dull, throbbing pain in your head made itself fully known as your head rolled forward, chin resting heavily against your chest. You tried and failed to bring your hands to your face, only then realizing that they were bound tightly behind you. Jerking your head upright, you tried again to tug your hands free. Horror swept through your mind, and an attempt to kick out with your legs confirmed that they were also well-bound to the seat you sat in. The scratchy and rough material peeled away at your skin as you struggled, a slick, wet feeling rolling down your hands and collecting on your fingertips before falling to the cracked pavement floor. The disgusting, rhythmic dripping of what could only be your own blood pounded in your ears over and over again like a drum, causing you to double down and fight harder against the restraints.

    Small whimpers and yelps left your mouth as you thrashed in a desperate attempt to free yourself for what felt like hours, only stilling when you had long since used the reserves of your strength. Only now, huffing out ragged breaths and sweat rolling down the slope of your neck, did you stop to look around the makeshift prison cell. The room was dark, a small window set high into the wall acting as the only source of light. Sounds of zooming cars could be heard faintly every once in a while, their headlights pouring into the room and bathing it with artificial yellow light before abandoning to the pitch-blackness once more. In the moments of illumination you could see the bland, red-brick walls of the oppressive room, the shapes of the barrels and crates surrounding you revealed by the streaking lights. The sound of a far-away door clicking open stopped your inspection in its tracks.

     Your head shot towards the noise, panic washing through your mind, and you could see light pouring into the room from the top of a set of stairs about 15 feet to your right. Trembling, Y/N hung your head once more and clenched your eyes shut in a poor attempt to pass as unconscious. The sounds of two distinct sets of footsteps filled the room. They approached your bound figure at a steady and consistent pace, one coming to stop directly behind you while the other took up post in front of you. A rough, calloused hand slid across your shoulder, and you couldn’t stop the resulting shudder. The ensuing chuckle was far too familiar. You jerked away from the sound, tucking your head forward against your chest in a sad attempt to create distance between yourself and Shigaraki as you bucked wildly against your restraints. The thought that those killer hands had touched you, even for a second, almost caused you to pass out right then and there. Tears pooled in your eyes, choked sobs and grunts escaping your throat despite efforts to stuff them down. A much smoother hand gripped your chin, easily yanking it up from its semi-protected position, and you froze completely when your y/e/c eyes met a nostalgic set of striking emerald green ones. Confusion clouded your already overwhelmed mind.

     “...Izuku?”

     A wicked smile twisted your previous classmate’s face as he stared at your grief stricken expression, his hot breath fanning across your sweat-soaked face. 

     “Surprised?” he asked excitedly, his hand sliding up from your chin to rub tears away from under your eyes. “I’m so happy to see you, Y/N. I’ve missed you so much since I went away.”

     Reeling, you took in the sight of your childhood friend. Midoriya was crouched between your knees, easily balancing on his toes as he looked at your face with melancholic adoration. He wore a crisp white dress shirt tucked into creased black slacks, a simple belt with a small silver buckle adorning his waist. A dark green tie hugged his neck, disappearing underneath a pristine black dress vest. The black leather glove on his right hand hid the thick scars that you’d always thought were so beautiful. His wild curls had been cut shorter, revealing a neat undercut on the back of his head. He looked exactly as handsome as he had when he’d disappeared during your freshman year at U.A, almost four years ago.

     “This is where you’ve been this whole time? No one’s seen you in years, Izuku, we thought you were dead!” you spat at him, turning your head to escape the affectionate touch. “Don’t touch me!” you almost screamed. “Do you have any idea what this has been like for us? For your mo-”

     SMACK

     The coppery taste of blood filled your mouth as you sat in stunned silence, your cheek already beginning to swell. Your head swiveled towards Midoriya slowly, as if on a post, and you looked up at him with defiant eyes. He was standing again, teeth bared in a vicious snarl as he bore down on your bound form. The tension in the air ratcheted up to an unbearable level as the stare down continued, not caring about igniting his wrath at this point. You were mad, you were hurt, and there was no way he was going to let you walk away from this either way, so you were going to let him feel the full array of the pain you’d endured during his absence.

     “You’re telling me you ditched Katsuki and I to be a villain and you still hit like a sissy?”

     He bristled at the jab, fists clenching tightly at his sides as he worked to restrain himself.

     “You’d do well not to antagonize me. I’m happy to see you, but not that happy.” he said, voice laced with malice.

     “I’ll do whatever the hell I want!” you screamed. You stilled when a weight settled onto your neck.

     A hand now gripped the base of your neck from behind, one finger missing. Anger and indignation melted into stark terror as Shigaraki leaned in close to your ear, the sound of his sickening laughter biting into your sanity and making your skin crawl. As if to solidify the unspoken threat, the black detachable collar of your hero costume dissolved into ash. Midoriya crouched between your bound legs once more, fixing you with a level stare.

     “I’ll be straightforward. I want you to join the league. Be with me again, like before.”

     Your eyes blew painfully wide, mouth falling open. “You’re joking.”

     “Don’t you remember what those ‘heroes’ did to us? They bullied us, they ignored us, they called you a villain. Kachan humiliated us almost daily and no one batted an eyelash. And now he gets to be the #1 top hero? How is that fair? Why should you dedicate your life to a society that hates you? Join us, you and I can be together again.” His hand snaked up from his side to press against your cheek again, thumb running gently across your bottom lip. “We can be together the way we always wanted.”

     Your nausea returned full-force as his fingers ghosted across your face greedily. What is he talking about? Izuku had been your closest friend. He’d supported you through bullying and family crisis, self-esteem issues, classroom anxiety, and just life in general. In return you’d done the same by answering a seemingly endless stream of phone calls about the most recent heroics from the news or glimpsed on the street or supporting him through a particularly nasty confrontation with Katsuki. But despite your closeness, you’d never been or even wanted to be involved. If he had romantic feelings for you then this was the first you were hearing of it, and it wasn’t good news. Setting that aside, you decide to press this moment of vulnerability, hoping to stir some sense of the golden heart you’d always admired.

     “Zuku, is this really who you want to be?”

     He recoiled from your like you’d struck him, nursing his hand against his chest, and a jolt of fear ran through your icy veins. “Who cares who I wanted to be? I pined for hero society my entire life and they rejected me!” he bellowed, rising to a standing position to pace a few feet in front of the seat. “If they don’t want me the way I wanted to give myself to them then they should at least take responsibility for the person I became instead.”

     You scoffed at the delusional rant, anger boiling lowly behind your y/e/c eyes as you stared up at the shell of your friend. “That’s bullshit and you know it Zuku! We got into U.A, we made it into hero society! Hell, you were a top performer in the hero course! It was all within your reach, and you skipped out to join these guys!” The muscles in your neck twitched with exertion as you worked to remain perfectly still, a lifted finger dancing tauntingly in your peripheral vision. You took a deep breath and lowered your strained voice. “We never stopped looking for you. y’know. You could just come home with me. Walk away from all this right now and I’d never say a word.”

     Calm down. Katsuki’s probably out looking for me right now. I just have to stay calm till he turns up.

     At that, Midoriya stopped pacing. He turned to face you, a pained expression on his face. Striding forward, he waved off Shigaraki. You sagged against the seat in relief. The adrenaline that had pounded through your veins had been burned off, and all it left behind was absolute exhaustion. You were unable to resist when Midoriya ran his fingers through your hair, both of his hands trailing down your jaw to hold your face between his palms. He inclined your head towards him and pity surged through you at the glossy look in his once optimism-soaked eyes.

     “Do you still love me?” he asked in the most pitiful voice you’d ever heard from him.

     You leaned into his gloved palm, nuzzling it weakly. “Of course I do, Zuku. You’re my best friend. But...I just can’t do this for you.”

     He knelt down between your legs again, scooting as close as possible before resting his forehead against yours.

     “Please agree to stay with me. I won’t be without you again.”

     “Come with me instead.” you said, not hiding the desperation in your trembling voice. “You and I are the only ones who know you’ve been here, and I’d never say a word. We could make something up and go back to normal.”

     Midoriya sighed heavily. He stood up, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before walking towards the door. Shigaraki followed without a word, shooting a vicious smirk over his shoulder.

     “Where are you going?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice as he drew closer to the door.

     “If you won’t agree to stay then I’ll just have to keep you here by force, doll. You’ll come around eventually, but until then you’ll just have to stay right where you are.”

    Completely drained and unable to thrash anymore, you sagged limply in your seat. Darkness enveloped you once more as the door clacked shut, and dread ate at your gut while you prayed for someone, anyone, to save you from the man you’d devoted your life to finding for four agonizing years

#bnha #mha #yandere deku #villain deku #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #mha shigaraki #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #deku x reader #mha x reader #x reader #anime #manga #fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #self insert #bnha x reader

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can we get angsty fic of Yvette and Vuz-ass make a deal for curse removal? Yvette isn’t aware of the catch. Vuz took MC’s humanity away at the same time as Yvette’s curse removal. Mc joins Vuz and make deal with demons for powers.

Written by @an-awkward-ghost

“It is always a pleasure to see you, my child.” The greeting was raspy, amusement coating it like honey. Vuzgamad never felt truly threatened by Yvette, no matter what she did or what she said. It was all a game to her, like an owner who didn’t expect their dog to bite them, and only watched fondly as it growled and whimpered and barked.

But Yvette did know how to bite, and she would draw blood when she did. It was only a matter of time.

“You said you wanted to make a deal.”

Years of experiences had taught Yvette everything she needed to know about deals. It was similar to a battlefield, where each party needed to plan their movements and proposals to the full extent. They couldn’t allow their opponent to have an unfair advantage. Quite ironically, however, they were willing to go to any lengths to cheat the other party to gain said unfair advantage – so long as they weren’t caught, anyway. Yvette wasn’t planning on letting anything slip past her, because there was no doubt Vuzgamad wanted to cheat her.

The day the demon did one thing even the slightest bit truthfully, would be the day hell froze over.

“Straight to the point,” She hummed, making a small tsk sound right afterwards. “That impatience will do you no good, girl. Don’t you want to chat a little?”

Yvette gave her a fulminating glare, blue eyes glinting dangerously. “If it doesn’t regard whatever deal it is that you want to make, I have nothing to say to you.”

“So ferocious. So brash. Well, it is to be expected, I suppose…” Vuzgamad finally, finally turned to look at her, a small smirk playing at the edge of her lips. She got the gesture and movement right; if Yvette hadn’t known she was a demon, if she hadn’t been able to see marks and the hollow eyes, she would have thought it was just another human, if a little awkward.

Vuzgamad had learnt too much about human behavior recently. It set Yvette on edge.

“Simply put, your curse has reached its peak. It’s about time to remove it.”

“…Excuse me?”

She must have heard the demon wrong. She fought to keep her breathing steady, to avoid giving Vuzgamad the reaction she wanted, but she could feel excitement bubbling inside her all the same. She schooled her expression – no, no, she couldn’t dare to hope. She couldn’t dare to believe her, not when she had been the one to curse her in the first place.

She couldn’t let her emotions override her logic. She needed to keep her yearning in check. She needed to. She needed to. The disappointment would crush her otherwise.

For a second, Vuzgamad’s eyes flickered from her expression to her hands, scanning for the slightest twitch. Her smirk stretched.

Then the demon feigned disinterest, turning to whatever she was writing. Yvette felt eerily like a child that had stumbled into their parent’s office and interrupted their work. The sensation made her shudder with disgust.

This demon was not her mother. She would never be, because Yvette had left her real mother – and any chance she had at a normal life – behind when she had decided to run away from home.

“The power your curse provides can be harvested, so that’s what I will do. Take it away.”

Her heart leaped. Yvette worried for a second that Vuzgamad could hear it. She cleared her throat, trying to crush her rising hope. Focus. She had to focus. “There must be a catch of some sort.”

“Isn’t there always, dear?” Then, silence. She was enjoying this – perhaps she wanted to see Yvette fidget? She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. She wouldn’t – couldn’t – play right into her hands.

“I do not trust you, Vuzgamad. I will not accept your deal.” She intended to say this with conviction, but her voice wavered. Vuzgamad huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I have not finished speaking, child.”

“Could have fooled me…”

“Oh please, it was a dramatic pause. You know all about those, don’t you?”

“You were doing an excellent job at getting straight to the point.”

“Ah, so you are the only one who can have a dramatic flair?”

Yvette’s scowl deepened. “Stop. Wasting. My. Time.”

“So brash! Where did your manners go, child?” Another tsk sound. Vuzgamad turned the paper over so she could continue writing. “Yes, yes, there is a catch. The energy I harvest from you – your curse with it – will be used to bring about the end of the world. You must have known that already.”

“I hardly doubt you could destroy the world with-”

“Do you honestly think I’d have wasted years for a plan I wasn’t quite sure would work?”

Yvette bristled. With a quick movement of her hand, her cane snapped into existence. She twirled it artfully, a warning. “I do not accept.”

“Really.” The demon’s voice drips with sarcasm. “Do keep in mind there is no other way for you to get rid of that curse, save for that girl’s ability to love. We both know you won’t choose that option,” another brief, amused look, “or you could kill me, but I hardly doubt you’ll have much luck this time.”

There it was, that overwhelming desire. To be free. To be normal. To have the one thing she’d wanted almost all of her life. And it was locked behind a word and a sense of duty to her Assassin Title. If Yvette accepted, then…

Then… what?

Vuzgamad was sure her plan would work. Yvette knew it would fail.

Whatever it was that Vuzgamad believed, her curse didn’t feel powerful enough for the feat she was suggesting. Yvette was quite used to keeping the energy in check, after all. She would know better than anyone if her curse was truly at its peak.

Now this was the perfect opportunity to cheat her opponent. Yvette put on an act, refusing at first, to keep Vuzgamad from realizing what she was trying to do, before she finally agreed.

She could shoot two birds with one stone.

…

“Sounds like quite the big catch, though. Are you sure about this, Yvette?”

“I’m aware of the danger. Vuzgamad doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Vinca gives her a sidelong glance, wary. “Is it tonight?”

“It is.”

“And I probably won’t be able to talk you out of this.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Does the pipsqueak have a better chance?”

The corners of Yvette’s lips quirk upwards at the mention. “Not any better that yours.”

Vinca moves to touch her gloved hand again, giving the interaction with Vuzgamad a few days ago another look. “I guess it’s worth a try. If she does anything, we can just gut her.”

“Assuming we’ll manage this time,” Lazareth mumbles, looking just as uneasy as Vinca is. Yvette ignores them both, fiddling with her phone to get in contact with MC. She can’t wait to share the news.

…

“You brought company,” Vuzgamad notes, drily.

“What is it that you always tell me…? The more the merrier, was it?”

Vuzgamad laughs. It’s an awful sound, like a claw scrapping metal, inhumane and atrocious. Yvette winces. Vinca glares daggers at the demon, hands twitching towards the tiny knives on her dress, though she grits her teeth and makes no other movement. Lazareth casts the room a quizzical look, obviously on the hunt for a hint regarding whatever ritual Vuzgamad was going to use.

MC stood beside them, the very definition of calm. Yvette smiled to herself, knowing MC had taken her lessons about how to school her expression to heart. Having everyone by her side meant the world to her, emboldening her, giving her the strength she needs to face Vuzgamad and emerge victorious.

The thing is… nothing went as planned.

The curse removal was less painful than she expected it to be. Energy swirled out of her and into a device Vuzgamad had prepared, a small gray stone which quickly turned into a bright, pulsing orange. It was an odd sensation, not having to subconsciously keep the curse in check. Yvette felt almost hollow, but she quickly shrugged the feeling away.

She felt cold. For the first time in ages, she felt cold.

The chill of the wind bit into her skin like tiny knives laced with a numbing substance. Vinca moved to her side, watching her worriedly, her hand hovering over Yvette’s elbow and sending a shock of warmth through her system.

The curse had been blindingly hot, never warm. Yvette half-expected it to be scalding, but this warmth was soothing. Yvette found herself unconsciously leaning into it.

Smiling, Yvette looked up to meet MC’s eyes. And her whole world shattered when she saw none of the loving support MC had always given her, just stony indifference.

MC then walked towards Vuzgamad, who gave her the stone without a word.

Lazareth bristled at the sight. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

They glare at each other, the tension skyrocketing by the second. Yvette blinks. Blinks again. Blinks once more, trying to comprehend what’s happening, trying to understand why MC is standing beside Vuzgamad and not her. It doesn’t make sense. It is unexpected, and for a second Yvette feels a different kind of cold – it descends on her with a rush of panic

Vinca steps in front of her like some sort of human shield. Yvette can’t see the blonde’s expression but she can easily imagine it, all furrowed eyebrows and stormy blue eyes.

"You have one minute to explain before I gut you out. Both of you."

Vuzgamad chuckles. She turns in MC's direction with a maniac grin. "Yes MC, do explain to my child and her friends your decision." The glint in her eye reminds Yvette of the day she has first meet the demon, when she had ruined her life with the curse. She looks at it now and immediately understands her life will be ruined yet again.

MC shrugs. "Helping you was kind of pathetic. I decided to join the winning side."

"Pathetic?" Vinca repeats, her voice like acid. "I don't know if you hit your head or something, pipsqueak, but the only pathetic thing around here is your existence. Are you trying to shy await from that fact? Or are you just too delusional to-"

"MC." Her voice wavers, but it still rings sharply through the room. Vinca stops talking, choosing to seethe in anger while Lazareth gives them both one long, worried look. Yvette ignores everything - Vuzgamad's amused stare, MC's own disgusted one - and focuses on the woman she remembers MC to be. The woman she fell in love. The bike mechanic in front of her is a stranger, an illusion. "It's a lie. S-some sort of joke in very poor sense. It must be."

MC smiles. "The only joke around here is you."

Everything she is feeling is replaced by anger. Anger at Vuzgamad, anger at herself, anger at the world. The thing she desires the most slips through her fingers once more, as it seems destined to do.

The person she trusted above everything else. The person she can't believe is turning her back on her like this. The person she had given everything for, standing before her, letting all those precious, precious memories rot at the edge of her consciousness, not showing any remorse at all.

Yvette's first thought is that she is possessed. One look into her eyes confirms she is not.

The cold is but a distant memory, her pure being enveloped by the heat of her frustration.

Vinca gasps, taking a few steps back. "Yvette, your eyes!" Her eyes open wide, "your curse!"

Lazareth brandishes his weapon, bewildered. "The ritual was a hoax."

Vuzgamad bats his words away with a hand, still chuckling. "Hardly. I merely gathered enough energy for the curse to weaken, not to break. Yvette's conflicting feelings have strengthened it beyond comprehension." She pauses to bark a small laugh when Yvette's eyes snap towards her, blazing. "Child! What did you take me for? Did you think I didn't know your curse wasn't ready for harvest yet? It would have taken another decade, probably, but this little event speed the process up. Isn't it glorious?"

Yvette took a deep, calming breath. She could feel the curse's energy replenishing, fueled by her anger. It wasn't close to its usual amount, but Yvette could feel it nonetheless. The curse was stronger. One slip and everything would burn.

 "Where are the tears, Yvette?" MC asked. "I was expecting some serious waterworks from you! Too bad."

“Oh, that is it!”

Vinca’s knives flash. The realization MC has turned into an enemy – an enemy she will have to fight – locks Yvette in place. She can only watch as the knives soar through the air, directly towards MC’s shoulder. Ah, Vinca wants to paralyze her. Maybe so they can focus on Vuzgamad first. Yvette can get behind that plan, she wants to interrogate MC further.

But her thoughts quickly dissipate when the knives stop in mid-air. MC smirks, tapping the side of her head with a lazy, confident motion.

Lazareth grunts. “Telekinesis?”

“Isn’t it cool?” She asks. A flicker of her wrist, and the knives turn.

Yvette summons her sword with a trembling hand. Its weight offers some semblance of comfort, of control, but a quick look around reveals they are at a disadvantage. Eyeless demons are pouring out of the shadows in one big, crazed mass of bodies. They could probably take them on with little to no problem, but Yvette doesn’t think she’s in a good emotional place to endure the fight.

Her concentration spills into reality, turning it into a distraction that won’t last more than a couple of seconds.

It’s enough time to escape.

And so, she meets Vinca and Lazareth’s questioning gaze and orders a retreat, gritting her teeth, wondering how and why everything turned out the way it did.

She should have never assumed she could cheat Vuzgamad.

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #lovestruck swm #swm #sin with me #yvette holte #sin with me yvette #angst #yvette x mc #swm yvette

[nekomasmngr]

unwind

➳ synopsis: You wanted to be warm more than anything. After a rough day at work and the bitter weather that seemed to cloud your mood, you couldn’t wait to get home and shut yourself away from the world. But, as much as you yearned for warmth, that wasn’t the only thing you needed today.

➳ genre: slice of life, comfort to fluff, established relationship between you and Suga!

➳ warning: just in case, there are mentions of being overworked and exhaustion, fidgeting behavior, self-deprecating thoughts, signs of an upcoming breakdown, post timeskip!suga, patient and loving suga <3

➳ word count: 3.861k

➳ a/n: here’s my sfw secret santa gift for @bugmomwrites !! this was a joy to write and i think i have a thing for writing long one shots for suga and i’m really glad you enjoyed reading this! posting this on record cause im quite proud of it hehe (っ◔◡◔)っ

Warmth. 

That was all you had in mind. It was all you needed. 

Feet were being dragged as you trudged along the side of the road. Adjusting your form that was bundled up in layers to trap your own body heat. Yet, every step you took, every breath you released; warmth just kept escaping you. 

Your mind felt so muddy. You fidget and flex your fingers to try to keep them from freezing stiff from the brisk blow of the cold air, yet you had your attention recalling the events that occurred earlier in the day: the mistakes, the slip ups, and the lectures you got from your ever so judgemental inner critic. You’ve probably spent most of your energy making sure to get through the day as best as you can even if it meant feeling more overworked and exhausted than usual. 

Today wasn’t kind to you at all. You just wanted to warm yourself up with a nice bath, maybe order in some pizza and pig out on some ice cream, close the blinds on your windows and turn up a good sob story, maybe even cuddle up with your fluffy blankets and pillows—

A sharp buzz from your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts of relaxation, with a text from Sugawara that read: ‘Hey bubba! how was work? I’m almost at your place! can’t wait to see you!’

Oh no. 

It was date night with Suga. 

How could you forget?! 

Suga’s job at the elementary school demanded a lot of his time and attention. You, being the supporting girlfriend, didn’t want to be a distraction or an added burden to his job. So, you both agreed to focus on yourselves for the meantime. But, you both also decided to dedicate a night, once a week to see each other again— hence, date night.

Knowing the holidays were coming up, both of you had been assigned more tasks that usual, as the year comes to an end. Days were long and nights were lonely, weekends would be filled with other demands and unfinished deadlines. The time spent apart couldn’t be more evident that it was now and this night would be the first date you would have in weeks. You wouldn’t deny it— you missed Sugawara desperately. 

You started to think of what you both could do for date night. ‘Would he want to go out for dinner? Maybe see that new movie that was just released last week? Hm, or maybe we could catch up with some of his old friends, it is the holidays after all. Oh no, I have to change my clothes. Maybe put on a nice dress? But, it is colder at night, maybe some dress pants? Ew, that’s like going out with work friends.’ 

Your thoughts were running through every activity you could do and all the other things you needed to do to prepare for the date. An overwhelming burn rose inside of your chest, bubbling up with a mixture of excitement, panic, and nervousness. 

Another gust of wind blew through your face, biting your cheeks and nipping your nose. You were instantly reminded of the earlier weight you just had on your shoulders. The exhaustion you still felt made you think of how much energy you had already lost and how much you would have to use to get through tonight. It would take too much energy to entertain someone today, even if it was your boyfriend. 

You frowned for even thinking of cancelling date night. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you did? He might think you’d rather not spend time with him at all or worse, he might think you believe that both of you started to drift apart. 

You were slowly feeling more irritable at the different thoughts and little noises that just irked you more than they should. If you had to see Suga today, you definitely didn’t want to accidentally snap at him. Your head started to get dizzy as you kept thinking whilst fighting off your fatigue. 

Inside, you knew you missed Koushi so much. Just seeing him would probably make you feel better, with that smile of his that always brightened your day. However, you couldn’t ignore your aching muscles, the crick in your neck and the stress on your back. Your nerves were on fire and all you really wanted was for it to stop.

It seems as though your thoughts held your attention ever so fervently, because next thing you knew, you were standing right outside the door to your apartment. 

With a sigh, you squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before jamming your key into the door. Stepping inside, you were greeted by a deafening silence. 

You had some coats and jackets strewn across your common area. The weather had been getting chillier lately and you had different articles of clothing available to you if ever you needed the extra warmth. A few knick knacks, memorabilia, and picture frames decorated the walls and shelves. The slight mess was homey to you. It made the place look alive and lived in, but right now it was an unearthly empty apartment. Something didn’t feel right. You didn’t know what it was, but the walls didn’t hold the warmth you yearned for. 

Frustrated at your dissatisfaction, you took a straight path to grab a glass of water that would hopefully clear your head. 

In the middle of your third glass of water, a knock at the door sounded. 

You flinched at the sound. Suga.

You mentally kicked yourself for getting distracted. You were so preoccupied with your own thoughts and feelings, you completely ghosted your own boyfriend. If only you had better focused and weren’t so bothered by every little thing that did bothered you; you would actually be a better employee or a better significant other— just someone better that deserves love. 

Dejectedly, you put down your glass and timidly inched towards the door. Opening it to meet soft doe eyes that looked at you in anticipation. Suga started out with a simple greeting and a bright smile that slightly put your aching heart at ease.

“Hey,” you replied, giving him a small smile in return. 

Entering your apartment, he started to get comfortable as you always allowed him to do so. Taking off his coat and putting down his bags, he turned to you to start the night’s activities. But you cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” your eyes casted down on the ground, both of your hands coming together to fidget with your fingers. 

“Oh, for what?” 

“I didn’t reply. I—,” with hesitation, you bit the inside of your cheek at how ridiculous you must have looked with your weak excuses, “I had a rough day and I’m just really…” Everything suddenly came rushing back to you: your thoughts of self-criticism, your slip ups at work, the cold that prickled your skin, the wasted time you spent on being preoccupied with your own thoughts, your tiredness and headaches—  all the things that seemed to drive you to your limit. 

You sounded silly with your struggle to form words without getting choked up by your exhaustion. You shut your eyes tightly to try to reset your mind and say what you wanted to say straight. 

Suddenly, gentle arms wrapped around you as you were pulled into a warm embrace. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright.” A familiar hand rested on the back of your head and soon you rested your forehead onto your boyfriend. “It’s okay, there’s no rush, love.” 

Time seemed to stand still as you took in every bit of reassurance that spilled with his every word. Suga immediately saw your inner battle as he was attuned to most of your quirks and habits. He knew you just needed someone to hold you close. 

Unlike the present, most days, you would be filled with so much energy, just bouncing around, talking about the most random things. Bright smiles, heart-filled laughter, and matched chaotic energy exchanged between the two of you. 

You could easily ease up the most stressful days of work, where he’d come home tired from teaching the kids and administrative work for the school. But as soon as he saw you, all his exhaustion seemed to turn into more energy. You’d be so eager to listen to every word he would say about his day and he’d be just as happy to tell you all the cute little things the kids did— any sign of his own exhaustion had disspelled.

But of course, there are the days when you would be just as exhausted as he would be on those days, if not more with all the extra energy you spent trying to keep yourself together. Perhaps, today was one of those days. 

Tender lips pressed on the crown of your head. You felt soft movement against your skin as you heard your boyfriend’s kind words, “Is something wrong?”

You deeply sighed into his chest, your breath expelling heat that warmed the both of you. Shoulders and back muscles instantly relax into his strong arms. Your head slowly motions into a nod, but you don’t quite want to face him just yet. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

You bit your lip and buried your face further into Suga’s chest, shaking your head. 

He smiled at how adorable you had become and piped out a suggestion, “Hmm, how bout a nap first?”

You turned your head to look up at him, but your eyes shifted away as you saw his soft gaze. “But, date night…” you trailed off, not knowing how to say that you didn’t want to cancel on him. 

“It’s okay. You need to rest first, okay? We can talk later, but right now, take as much time as you need.”

Keeping an arm around you, he led you to your room and stopped at the side of your bed. Your own arms instinctively wrapped around your form to trap the leftover weight that lingered from the absent arms. 

“Do you need anything else?” Sugawara asked, fluffing up your pillows and opening the bedsheets up for you to slide right in. 

You took his hand and tugged him beside you; a signal for him to take a nap with you. 

As comfortable as you may have looked, with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around his middle; your body didn’t fully relax just yet. You didn’t usually feel this shy when cuddling with Koushi. In fact, being vulnerable with each other was something you loved most about your relationship. But, there are still days when you would retreat into your own shell, when your mind kept up with your racing thoughts that only ever burned at your tired heart. 

Smooth thumbs ever so gently rubbed on your shoulder, pulling you out of the tension you were holding yourself hostage. Like a silent knock of permission, you were reminded of his overwhelming presence; the absolute love and lack of judgement that you would always be reassured of. No amount of shame, guilt, or sadness that you might feel would ever be hidden from Koushi. Just as he could never hide something from you. 

Trying to steady your beating heart from the rush of emotions that just went by you in such a short time. You slowly focused your mind on what's happening now, at that moment. 

With plush covers enveloping you, head resting on your loyal pillow and your favorite part— warm arms that led to careful hands. Suga dragged his palms slowly from your shoulder to your head. 

You felt gentle fingertips push against the middle of your brows, unaware that you had furrowed them in an attempt to make sense of your thoughts. 

“You can go to sleep, love.” Sugawara whispered, with a voice so soft and deep it was like a lullaby to your heart. With a last hum, you acknowledged his words and focused on the steady beat of Suga’s heart that hushed you to sleep.

Cold.

That was what you awoke to. 

Sitting up from your nest of blankets, you pouted at the absence of your boyfriend from your side. Stretching out your limbs from your position, you heard satisfying cracks from aching joints that have been stiffened for what felt like hours. Taking a glance at the clock on your nightstand, it had been a little over an hour since you were sent off to sleep in the sweet arms of home. 

Raising your nose into the air, you gave a whiff of something utterly delectable. Muffled sounds of padding feet and subtle rustling of metal, you suspected someone was in the kitchen area. With the thought of the mystery that was happening outside of your room, your stomach grumbled loudly as to add to the equation. 

As you entered your small common area, you were fixed on a familiar head of fluffy grey hair that seemed to float across the living space. Your boyfriend was carrying a couple of plates and glasses and arranged them on top of the placemats and utensils that rested on the low coffee table. All that was missing was the food.

Wondering if you had just imagined the earlier scent of delight, a couple of paper bags that were placed near the floor of the couch caught your eye. You perked up at the size of the bags and the likelihood of the great amounts of foods and snacks that could be inside. 

As if on cue, Sugawara greeted you with a shining smile that struck a good light into your soul. “Good morning, sleepy Bugs!” He walked towards you and gave you a sweet peck on the cheek. “How was your nap?”

“Um, it was good,” slightly suprised from the amount of affection you had just been given and from the sight before you, you remember feeling rejuvinated after that nap he suggested you take. “It was really good.” 

After having rested, you definitely felt better than you did the whole day. Suga definitely grounded you when you needed it the most and gestures like that never ceased to warm your heart at how he knew you so well. 

Fixiating your gaze on your boyfriend, you observed him unpacking your favorite foods from their packaging, placing them neatly on your dishware. 

“What’s all this?” You gestured to the set-up he had laid out on your coffee table. He gave a little shrug and looked up at you with a small smile, “I figured you would be hungry once you woke up, so I got us dinner.”

He was right once again. Your stomach cried at the sight of your favorite foods spread out infront of you.

“And since, it’s still date night. I thought we could just have a little self-care date just here.” he said as he motions to his little dinner party layout; both of you would be seated on the ground, with backs against the couch facing the television, fresh food on both your plates, a couple of bags of chips and soda on the side. It was comfy and casual, but seemed just perfect for the two of you. 

With a blanket on his lap, Suga looked up at you, head held high in anticipation of praise and a smile that lured you to sit by his side. 

“You sure you don’t want to go out?” you asked just to be sure. Your eyes locking on his, analyzing any hesitation or disappointment he might have over having to have to stay in on date night.

“Any moment spent with you is a date to me already.” He admitted with a grin. Your face scrunched at the sound of his affectionate line. You snorted until you both let out a laugh at how cheesy that sounded. “That was too cheesy, even for you.” You smiled at him. 

He whined at your tease, but quickly pushed your plates to yourselves eager to dig into your meals. 

As you ate, you conversed about what he had planned for the night, thinking of the time he must have spent devising this lovely impromptu evening. 

“We could watch a movie together,” he offered, “maybe do some skin care, what do you think of that?” 

“Skin care? You want to do that?” 

“Yeah! I want the full experience! I wanna get a fluffy headband to pull back my hair.” As if to show proof, he excitedly shook his head, making his fluffy grey hair bounce around. 

“I want to know about those uh, face washers?” he thought for a moment, turning away to take a peak at another paper bag that you didn’t notice before. “Or was it face masks? You know, to bring a little glow to the skin.” Suga said as he brought out some sheets of face masks that he must have bought when you were sleeping.

You almost awed at the sight of how enthusiastic and prepared he was. But, it was nothing unexpected of your boyfriend. Any spontaneous antics you would come up with, he’d support it either way, whether it was a surprise visit at each other’s work areas or a 2am drive to the nearest 24 hour fast food restaurant for a ridiculous craving; it was always something exciting with Koushi.

After a second to think, you answered honestly. “Yeah, we could do that. My skin’s feeling a little dry lately.” 

Immediately thinking of the other products you had that the two of you could use, but curious eyes pulled you from your thoughts as Sugawara studied your face, “Oh yeah, it does.” He leaned back and nodded, “You might need the whole treatment more than me, Bugs.” Taking a bite of food, he put on a classic innocent smile, but that could never fool you. 

How cheeky he had become all of a sudden. You groaned at his little act of mockery and gave him a sharp shove on the shoulder. 

The little joker lurched forward, spilling his food back on his plate, “Oi! I could’ve choked on my food!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, do you need some prune juice to water it down, old man? ” you retorted back at him. 

The night continued on with your customary jokes and teasing. As Sugawara planned, after your dinner, you were both seated on the couch, swaddled in your comfiest clothes and blankets. Headbands clearing any stray hair away from each other’s line of sight, as fresh face masks adorned your gleeful faces. 

It was refreshing to not have to worry about what happens next and how much energy you had to spend to act as though you were enjoying. It all just came so natural with Suga. You didn’t have to keep up a facade, like a professional one at work, thinking over each task and mistake you inevitably made and repenting for it. 

Tonight was just about the two of you. Addressing each other’s needs and soaking in each other’s genuine presence. It was a slow day, nothing extraordinary, but it satisfied you both to know the security you felt in each other. Feeling as though you were both constant in each other’s lives, especially in this age of uncertainty. 

As the night came to a close, you both retreated to your earlier position. Limbs entangled with one another, the comforting beating of each other’s hearts slowly tuning in sync. You both haven’t quite fallen asleep yet, having felt the air fill up with unsaid thoughts and yet, none were uttered as a blanket of silence covered the entire room. 

You didn’t know how long you both just laid there, but you remembered feeling the dancing fingers that were playing with your hair, halting its movements. Followed by a light poke on your cheek which brought you out of your own trance.

“Hey,” Koushi chimed in, “we forgot to do one last thing.” You hummed as you turned your head expectantly at him. 

“But we don’t have to do it, if you don’t wanna talk about it okay?” You nodded in agreement, paitently waiting for his next words.

“We haven’t talked about your day yet. How was it?”

Ah, you knew this was coming. Sugawara would never let you go to sleep without acknowledging both the good and the bad things of the day. Having spent a good 4 hours on your date night, ignoring the bad and recharging your emotional battery, it seemed like a good time to bring up what bothered you. 

In a way, this was something you were grateful for. Recounting the events of the day felt easier to talk about  now rather than how you would have expressed them earlier that evening. Allowing yourself to understand the bad things in life validated those rush of emotions you felt which didn’t seem as muddy as it was before. Which is why you would always be grateful for Sugawara for being who he was. Knowing that he knows how you work made you feel special, made you feel seen by someone who was a witness to all of the different parts of you. 

As you end your cathartic narrative, you gave your boyfriend the softest of smiles that hopefully showed how thankful you were for being able to have a safe space for your emotions.

He mimicked your look and added, “I know it’s sometimes hard to admit these kinds of things.” His smooth palms took your hand that was on his chest in the softest of grips, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. 

“But, you can always talk to me about them, alright?” 

It was in the way his eyes glowed along with the moonlight that spilled in from the window, hinted at something deeper than just ‘these kinds of things’. Trust seeped out from his gaze and into yours as you understood his real message that Sugawara meant. That he was here for anything; anything you wanted to say, anything you wanted to do, and anything you felt like—

He was here for you. 

Sugawara wrapped both of his arms around your frame for a firm embrace and poured every reassuring emotion into his hug. Making it known to you that you can always count on him to be there for you. 

Basking in each other’s arms, you savored in the overwhelming soothing warmth that you both shared. A knowing inkling chimed at the back of your head bringing to light the earlier encounter with the unknown missing presence after having entered your empty apartment.

Warmth was missing.

More importantly, Suga’s warmth. 

This was all you needed to unwind from the worldly chaos that you go through everyday. It is in his arms where you feel the safest and it’s a place you wouldn’t want to leave anytime soon. 

His actions today showed you how attentive and dedicated he was to you. Pure love and care was all that you felt while being with him today and you believed in him to be there, with just as much love and care (if not more), in the days to come.

#sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #secret santa event #hq headquarters #nina writes

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 15 (Final)

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story. 

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Lying upon the cart, you wished to be dead. It was ironic that in the beginning, this very cart had transported you into this world as Jinyoung’s treasure. Now, he laid beside you, unmoving. Fresh tears soaked through his shirt, your head strewn across his chest, hoping for a glimpse of his heartbeat.

Tired eyes lingered at the body next to him and you reached out for Jackson, shaking as the wound continued to stain through any bandaging Jaebum had done. You wondered if Jackson’s body would ever dry up.

Jinyoung’s only seemed to maintain what blood he had due to the sword still embedded in him.

The remaining fight had ended once Argo was dead, his men looking between each other for guidance.

“Should we kill who remains?”

“Let’s say they’re all dead, they might as well be,” another decided, backing off and holding his hands up in surrender. They soon departed the battle site, leaving behind their fallen leader and men, and you to mourn your losses.

“Don’t remove the sword from him,” Jaebum said in all but a whisper, cutting Argo’s limb away and freeing him from the hunter.

You had been numb to the whole procedure, unable to help the three men pick up what you still had, merely stumbling along with Jinyoung’s body as they carried it to the cart now attached to Jinyoung’s horse. You had silently climbed up then, curling up beside Jinyoung and had laid there ever since.

You wished for something or someone to rid you of the excruciating pain that burdened your heart and mind. Flashes of your life shared with Jinyoung played out one by one, tormenting you further.

You already longed to see him smile again.

Eventually, you grew aware that you were no longer on land. The sea breeze was brisk and the waves choppy. You ignored all offers from the others to eat, and you lost count of how many times the sun rose and set.

You pleaded for an emptiness to overwhelm you instead of the constant memories, the ghost of Jinyoung’s lips upon your skin.

It was bittersweet when the cart finally stopped moving. You had no energy to get yourself down, Mark scooping you up and carrying you inside a small cabin.

You hated how much you relished the comfort of a bed, and the warmth of a blanket, soon drifting off into a dreamless state.

“It’s time to get up now,” Youngjae called when he finally found you awake, offering you food.

“I don’t want to eat.”

“Tough, I will force you if I have to,” he retorted, coming over to your side and holding up the spoon to some porridge. You glared at him yet he only shot one back. “How dare you not eat!”

You merely stared back at him.

“That’s what he would say, you know. He would scold you for being foolish.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you lowered your head. “He’s not here.”

“How do you know that? He’s always been in here,” Youngjae mentioned, reaching to touch your chest softly. “Can’t you hear him in your head telling you to get up and live on?”

“I’ve lived on without him once. I don’t want to do it again.”

“Have we held a funeral? No, now start eating or we’ll have to but for you!”

Glowering at Youngjae, you took the spoon from his grip and swallowed down a mouthful.

Your friend eased his stern expression. “There, that’s what you need to do.”

Days after awakening, you were pulling yourself up with the sun, helping Youngjae plant a vegetable garden and setting up your new home. You had no idea how you had acquired such a place but you were certain Jinyoung would have loved it here with you. It was a small farmstead, with two simple cabins. So far, you and Youngjae shared the one you had woken up in, whilst Mark and Jaebum set up in the other.

With Jackson and Jinyoung.

You hadn’t been brave enough to enter the place yet, unsure if you would be able to handle seeing his listless body again. You couldn’t seem to will yourself into death, no matter how much you had tried to. You missed Jinyoung and still cried yourself to sleep every night. Yet, you regained your strength, healing from your injuries well and soon felt back to usual self physically.

You wondered just how selfish a human could truly be to continue to survive in this world without the one person who you wanted to do everything with. You felt a coward, to still be breathing in the air that Jinyoung and Jackson should be doing as well. It bothered you when you stopped to think about it, which with your returning energy, you tried not to allow to happen often.

There was a lot to be done around the farm. Mark helped where he could, but it was Youngjae who you saw the most of each day.

Still, despite living, eating, and doing chores, you weren’t in connection with the world anymore. You hardly spoke, never smiled, and tried your best not to look too much at your remaining friends.

Each time your gaze lingered on their faces was enough to bring back the pain again, causing the air to be knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe through.

“She’s having another panic attack!” Youngjae shrilled as you bent down in the garden bed, gripping at your chest with one hand and planting yourself in the soil with the other. You felt the wind brush passed you as Jaebum arrived at your side, trying to help you breathe properly again.

It was in these moments where you would see Jinyoung instead, his dark eyes etched with concern as his words of comfort fell into your hair, willing you to breathe for him again. You would watch him painfully, knowing he wasn’t there and yet your hopes would rise, all the same, your breathing returning. And then when you blinked after your ordeal, Jinyoung was no longer there, Jaebum sighing in relief that you were recovered instead.

He said it was part of the trauma you had faced with what happened that day. You wondered if that was why you started to see Jinyoung more often as well. Much as you had when living with your Grandmother, you started to talk to him as you did your chores, fond of the image of him helping you wash the vegetables you had fetched with Youngjae from the nearby village, or hanging out the washing and peeking around the corners at one another.

Even though you knew it was detrimental, you welcomed the visions.

Still, it was deep in the night where you realised just how alone you were. No image of Jinyoung could substitute the warmth of his arms that were lacking within this bed. You despised the night now, the moon and all the stars in the sky. They had lost their beauty the same time you lost the man who whispered sweet nothings upon them.

You willed for the sun to arrive quickly.

“Y/N, are you going to come in for breakfast?”

“I’m going to hang out the washing first!” you called back to a grinning Youngjae, the man looking at the cabin and then back at you.

You paid him no mind, picking up your laundered items to hang up and make the most of the drying sun. Reaching for a blanket, you struggled to hoist it over the line.

“Here, let me help you.”

“Jinyoung, don’t be silly, you’ve never hung out a single thing in your life.”

“There’s always time to learn, don’t you think?”

You smiled sadly. “It would have been nice to see you do laundry.”

“Let me try now.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” you replied, blinking back your tears. You stretched up on the tips of your toes and hoisted it over the line, cursing Mark for having hung this section of the washing line too high for you to easily reach. Once the blanket fell over the line, you let out a triumphant huff of air and then spun to grab the next, losing your footing and ending up in the arms of a man you hadn’t seen in weeks.

Jinyoung smiled. “Always falling for me. It’s a bad habit of yours. How would you be able to cope in this world without me catching you each time?”

You merely blinked, trying to decipher if you had truly gone mad. His grip felt too real around your waist and there as an unmistakable level of warmth that had never once come from your hallucinations.

Shakily, you reached up for his face, gasping when you connected with his cheek. “You’re alive.”

“Well, I sure hope so. How could I leave this world whilst you’re still alive in it?”

“But you … you…”

“Later,” he murmured, his lips curling up into a delighted smile. “We can talk later. Right now, there’s something I need from you.”

“What is-”

You knew he was truly back when his lips pressed into yours, caressing you right down to your soul.

“You all tricked me!” you exclaimed later over dinner, even glaring at the pale Jackson who merely shook his head at you.

“Now don’t go adding me in this, I think I really died.”

“Then how are you sitting at this table with us? Are you a ghost?!” Jaebum huffed, looking at his hands and then held them up at him. “I worked tirelessly on you both! Don’t underestimate my efforts to bring you back from the brink of death, brother!”

Mark chuckled as he pulled off a piece of the fresh loaf of bread you had made. “In all fairness, we did try to tell you, Y/N. You just didn’t want to hear anything about either of them.”

“She’s someone who needs to see things with her own eyes to believe in them,” Jinyoung mentioned, chewing on his food before grinning at you. “It was more effective that she found me alive than you telling her I was recovering when you didn’t know how long that would have taken.”

“I’m right here, you know,” you grumbled and Jinyoung nodded.

“And she’s really impatient so Jaebum would have gone insane with her hanging over his shoulder looking for new signs of life.”

“Enough!” you exclaimed, slapping your hands down on the table. Looking at each man to see if they dared to talk, you then nodded. “Let me get this straight. You discussed a plan like this?”

“It wasn’t one we wanted to take but if anyone got gravely injured we needed to put them into another world to heal.”

“You all acted like they were dead to me!”

Jaebum nodded. “They were close to it. But I gave them both a tonic to keep them going until we got here so I could start the treatment properly. You weren’t functioning no matter how often we tried to bring you back to the present so you didn’t realise I had purposely slowed down their breathing.”

“I was mourning the loss of the love of my life.” You turned to glare at the evidently healthy man beside you. Jinyoung sheepishly shrugged at you. “Clearly, I wasted a lot of emotions on you.”

“I’m touched, really.”

“Did you cry for me?” Jackson wondered as you rolled your eyes, now looking at everyone around the table. “Anyone?”

“I did, don’t worry,” Youngjae offered hastily, which made the men all laugh.

“I’m still ridiculously confused!” you announced and stood up, storming off outside.

Jinyoung joined you a moment later, reaching for your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Glancing at the wounded arm that was strapped to his body in a sling, you grunted. “Will you be lame in that arm forever?”

“You did a good job with that sword, I doubt I’ll ever be able to fully regain strength to it.”

Your annoyance eased and you spun to look up at Jinyoung worriedly. “Really?”

“I’m grateful to have been blessed with a spare,” he mentioned cheekily, holding up his other arm. You hit it as he laughed heartily and you stopped to smile, listening to the bright sound. It was the first time he had truly laughed with so much ease.

“You’re different.”

“I feel like I’m the same.”

“No, you’ve never been like this,” you told him, stepping to his side and gazing up at him adoringly. “You’ve always been looking for the invisible threat. You’re relaxed right now.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Jinyoung beckoned you closer. “Jaebum gave me a very strong pain relief this morning. It’s still working its way through me.”

“You’re being very playful, so it’s not just the medicine. You’re not the same Jinyoung I’ve ever known.”

“I played with you when we were children!”

“Well, yes, but I mean even then you carried a hardness in your eyes. You never showed your emotions easily. All day long you’ve been laughing, smiling, and sharing everything with those handsome eyes of yours.”

“Do you not like it?”

“No, I love it.”

“Good.” Jinyoung kissed the side of your head. “Because I don’t have to hide anymore. No one is looking for me.”

“You’re free.”

Jinyoung nodded happily. “We all are.”

You finally got your wish. Every day, you woke up in the warmth of Jinyoung’s arms, soft kisses starting the morning before going off to prepare breakfast together for everyone. After that, you did chores on the farm, now raising your own animals to further live off the land. You were also building a third cabin since word had reached you that BamBam and Yugyeom were alive and were on their way to join you all.

Each day was full of activity, though you didn’t mind working hard. There was constant laughter and the youth you had all been robbed of from the Rebellion returned through playful water fights and endless teasing. And when you found yourself growing tired from being the only woman on the farmstead, you would go into town to spend time with your friends you had made there. In turn, they visited your home, though you were certain it wasn’t just to see you.

You hadn’t realised just how charming the men you lived with were until you watched them in action.

Looking at Jaebum sweet-talking a cat he had found hungry in the neighbouring fields instead of talking to Bethie who was interested in him, however, showed you that some of them had a long way to go before they could fully be free from the shackles of their upbringing.

But each day brought them one step closer.

Falling onto your bed exhaustively later that evening, you groaned when Jinyoung climbed in beside you and gestured for you to move. “I’m too tired.”

“You need to get under the blankets, it’s the middle of winter.”

“You know that being pregnant makes me feel hotter than normal.”

“Still,” he said with a warning tone and you sighed, picking yourself up only to pull back the blankets.

By the time you were about to slip back into bed, Jinyoung had extended his arm out for you and was waiting. You smiled, though took your time gently nestling into his side.

Not for your sake, but for his.

“You always offer me up this arm to rest upon.”

“Well, considering we go to sleep on the same sides of the bed each night, how am I meant to give you the other?”

“I’ve offered to swap but you never accept,” you pointed out, glancing up at him. “Why?”

“You freed me with this arm,” Jinyoung mentioned, shifting his head so he could kiss your temples. You closed your eyes with sheer delight that tingled throughout you from his soft gesture. “You see it as something awful.”

“I would never wish to harm you.”

“I see it as you setting me free from the Rebellion. Having you lay upon it is my way of showing how grateful I am.”

“But it hurts you.”

“A small price to pay to still be here at your side,” he reminded and you nodded, lifting your head to kiss him.

“You followed me here to Nowhere.”

He grinned. “There’s no better place than to be nowhere with you.”

“We have quite the adventure to tell this child that I’m growing,” you said, rubbing at your slightly protruding belly. “What should we keep to ourselves?”

“How about we skip the ten years we were apart for.”

“Why? That’s the best bit!”

Jinyoung balked a little. “How is that the best part of our story?! The best was obviously when I kidnapped you.”

“And I hated you.”

“You could never hate me.”

“I hated you until I saw your face,” you corrected with a giggle and Jinyoung shook his head.

“We really have been through a lot. Maybe we need to think about how we share this tale with our offspring in the future.”

“I’ll write a book!”

“If you do that then it will be greatly exaggerated.”

“Says the man who wrote an entire love letter about comparing me to the moon and stars.”

Kissing you to silence your teasing remarks, you soon fell into a heady embrace, parting when you were certain your soul was about to burst out of your body and jump into his. You smiled and Jinyoung kissed you briefly before nodding. “However we tell it, let’s make sure we do it together.”

“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Anywhere might be nicer than nowhere,” he offered but before you could respond, Jinyoung was sizing up your lips again. “No matter where you go, I’ll follow you.”

“Of course, you’re mine.”

“Mm,” he hummed, a satisfied smile tugging his plump lips up. “I’m yours.”

_________________

Thank you for enjoying this series. There may be an Epilogue shared at a later date in 2020. 

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[hanakobound]

Hanako has a panic attack! I really don’t think this kid is mentally okay so i would really like to see how you think his panic attack would be like

hanako having panic attacks headcanons!

A/N: Forgot to include “…and how you, as his soulmate, would treat him.” Honestly I can add more to this, we’ll see! Hanako seems vulnerable when he would have panic attacks. Instead of getting an annoying child who needs constant care and affection, you’d see him as someone who needs to be protected somehow. I hope you like it, though! Let’s look forward to more headcanons later on.

Everyone knows how Hanako is. He’s playful, you would find him mess around with Kou and tease him often. If you’re unlucky, you get dragged into it, too. He’s childish. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he would act like a brat about it. If annoying you meant getting what he wanted, he won’t stop until you decide to say yes.

He’s a mess, really, which makes you wonder if he was even capable of having panic attacks in the first place. Hanako seemed like the type of guy who knows what he’s doing — everything’s well planned, giving him no reason to be worried or embarrassed — so, how was he like?

There’s still a lot you don’t know about the honorable number 7, nor his previous self, Yugi Amane. As a ghost, you’d figured he won’t worry. It’s not like he has anything to lose, anyway.

Hanako did have his regrets, however, and he hasn’t been completely open to you about his younger brother, Tsukasa, and their past. You’ve met the other Yugi when he appeared on the rooftop, and that’s the first time you’ve ever seen Hanako be still, as if the numbness of his body was taking a toll on him.

He’s saved you from spirits countless of times, but this was that one time you were able to save him since he didn’t move, at all, just seeing the sight of his younger brother in front of him kept him still.

Hanako wouldn’t often get panic attacks, but when he does; his emotions get the best of him. He’s… not normal, his mindset isn’t either and you can tell because of how he’s behaving and his personality, but he’s not in the proper condition to face anyone.

If he feels a tiny bit threatened, or even terrified, he’s easily overwhelmed and he can behave inappropriately. By this, he can harm you without intending to do so.

With his case on the younger brother, he hasn’t moved on yet. There’s always that lingering feeling of guilt, disgust with himself, and it only gets worse when he sees just how welcoming Tsukasa was, regardless of being the same guy who murdered him.

You can’t do much without Hanako opening up to you, and it’s better not to force him. Instead, when he would be frozen in place (this only happens when he faces Tsukasa so far…) You would be there, as his friend, and hold onto him.

You would call out to his name, and he would snap out of his thoughts thanks to the sound of your voice. You would always be around, you promised to stay by his side as his assistant before he can trust himself to tell you his problems.

You thought he would only have his panic attack whenever Tsukasa was around, but apparently he would also experience that when he can’t seem to find you anywhere.

Out of nowhere, the older Minamoto had asked you to help him by accompanying him as he checked out the clubs that were up for registration. Of course, seeing it was sudden, no one ever really saw where you went or what you did.

You didn’t show up in the bathroom, making Hanako worry. He tried to ignore the feeling, though, and figured you were with Kou. When Kou showed up, his worries only grew deeper and his hands started to tremble.

“Kid, where’s (N/N)-chan? Have you seen her?” Hanako asked Kou, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. Kou gave him a dirty look, “We’re literally just the same age! No, not that I'm aware of... I haven’t heard from senpai.”

God, it took Hanako everything to keep himself calm. Or at least, he tried to. He started to look after you as he searched around the academy, his heart dropping when he came to the realization he checked the last place and still hasn’t seen you.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even had the slightest clue as to why he has a bad feeling over you disappearing. What if a supernatural got to you and he wasn't around to save you? What if he was too late? What if-

Hanako was tearing up, he didn’t realize the tears streaming down his cheeks were the sign of how much he cared for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He fell to his knees, hands covering his eyes. To anyone seeing the sight, it’s bad.

The poor boy seemed so fragile, like a lost kid who hasn’t found his way back home, and he fears that it might just be the case. He was on the verge of giving up until he heard your soft voice calling out to him.

“Hanako-kun? Wait, are you crying?!” As soon as you saw him on the ground, looking up to you with helpless eyes, you immediately ran up to him and cupped his cheeks, making him face you.

It took him awhile to respond, and when he did, he didn’t waste anymore time before pulling you into his arms, completely hugging you close to him.

He felt cold, and worse of all, he was shaking. “I didn’t know where you were,” He whispered to you, his grip doesn’t seem like he’s planning to let you go anytime soon. “I was so scared, I don’t know—I didn’t want you to leave me.” The way he expressed his genuine worries to you was enough to let you know that for once, he actually meant his words.

Hanako trusted you more than he ever trusted himself. You haven't seen him vulnerable in front of anyone. Right now, giving him comfort and reassurance that he’s never alone and you won’t ever leave him was all he needed. That’s what you did.

With you returning the hug as you placed your hand to gently pat on his back, it was enough for a response that Hanako understood. He didn’t want to lose you, and he wanted to make sure of it.

Last updated: April 03, 2020

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #hanako x reader #hanako-kun x reader #hanako kun x reader #yugi amane #yugi amane x reader #jshk x reader #tbhk x reader

[newcaptainofsquad9]

I’m Your One and Only, Right?~Sub! Park Jimin x fem! reader

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Summary: Jimin acts clingy and a bit jealous during your time out with a friend, forcing you both to go, leaving you a little angry at Jimin’s actions. However, once you return home, you couldn’t stay mad at your boyfriend, at least until he started to beg.

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Angst

Word Count: 2, 235

Warnings: Smut, don’t read unless you’re 18 and above. Sub Jimin and some of the kinks that come with it.  Author’s Note: More Jimin, yes I know I need to do other members to and they will get done soon. I ya’ll enjoy these sub fics because I would like to write more.

I should have known Jimin was being petty the moment we walked into the Whailen Arcade with Baekhyun, all in a fit of mega watt smiles and giggles. Excluding Jimin, who gives Baekhyun a tiny twitch of the lips before pointing at a skee ball machine. 

“Y/N!” he shouts, “bet I could score a hundred points easily.”

His plump cheeks raise up in that cutsy smile, making my heart skip a beat. I open my hand for him, he takes it, squeezing it rather hard. Hard enough for me to gasp. Jimin’s eyes soften as he lessens his grip. 

“S-sorry jagi,” he whispers. 

“That hurt a little Jimin.”

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he whines, “I just thought-”

“Y/N! I forget this place had Tekken!” Baekhyun bellows from across the arcade, “I can totally beat you in a first to five!”

I shake my head and scoff. 

“Oh you’re on!” I say. 

“But, skee ball,” Jimin says, while rubbing a soothing had down my arm. 

His voice is low and laced with sweetness; a deadly combination with his thick lips in a pout and downcast eyes. I wrap my arms around his waist, lean in and rest my forehead against his, meeting his intense, yet intimidating stare. A stare he usually saves for the intimate bedroom moments. An unwanted shiver crawls up my spine as Jimin’s hands find the tender spots on my sides. 

“A-Are you all rig-”

Jimin ceases my words with a kiss; a tender one that forces my heart to hammer and rattle at my rib cage. I kiss back for a moment, a small peck with a hand on his chest to nudge him back, yet Jimin doesn’t move. My eyes open to see his closed, nose scrunched up in concentration. I apply more pressure onto his chest, finally making him move. What the hell is his problem? 

“Jimin, what. The fuck,” I say, “we’re in public.”

Jimin bites his lip, eyes sweeping from across the room then back to me. 

“I know jagiya, I-I just really want you to play skee ball with me,” he groans. 

I raise an eyebrow. 

“And a makeout was your way of asking?” I say, “children come to this arcade too Jimin.”

His eyes soften, his mouth opens then closes as Baekhyun walks up to us. 

“Are you still down for some Tekken Y/N?” Baekhyun asks, “or was I interrupting a couple thing?”

I turn to him and shake my head.

“No, let’s get some matches in,” I say, “that all right with you, Jimin?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at Baekhyun, but nods anyway.

“I guess we can skee ball after,” Jimin grumbles.

...

After doesn’t come, I’m too engrossed in the clock running out on Baekhyun and I’s match. We’re tied 2-2, I’m up two rounds and both of our characters are down to their last few pixels of health. Baekhyun’s character, King rushes in for an elbow, luckily I’m able to side step, to deliver a high kick. I miss and tap my thumb back against the joystick, forcing my character, Nina back a few paces. It’s my chance to rush in this time, however I freeze as Jimin wraps his arms around my waist, lips brushing against my ear.

“Y/N,” he whispers, “I wanna play skee ball, please?”

His kisses the area below my ear, leaving me still as Baekhyun jabs my character. 

“Woo hoo!” he cheers, “caught you slipping and won! What a comeback!”

The feeling in my hands manage to return, along with the anger that overwhelms and flushes my skin. I turn around in Jimin’s arms, witnessing his blank stare transform as his brown pupils grow large at my heated expression. 

“Jagi-”

“Don’t you fucking Jagiya me,” I growl, “you made me lose!”

Jimin scoffs, making my blood boil even more. 

“Y/N I-I-”

He pauses as his lips curling into a frown when his hand comes up to touch my arm. 

“Don’t! I don’t wanna play skee ball anymore!” I declare, “I’m going home!”

Baekhyun frowns. 

“Ah, dude,” he groans, “why’d you ruin the fun Park?”

Jimin grits his teeth at Baekhyun with chest puffed out along with his cheeks. 

“Me? You were the one who-”

Jimin’s mouth closes once I grip his arm tightly and pull him back from Baekhyun. 

“I’m sorry for him, Baekhyun,” I say, “it was a fun time while it lasted.”

Baekhyun only blinks, nods sharply and waves. 

...

“Jagiya, jagiya, Y/N,” Jimin urges, “please talk to me!”

I continue to ignore Jimin as I push through the threshold of our shared apartment, drop the keys into the tiny bowl on the coffee table and slump down onto the cream colored sofa. Jimin slides right down beside me, suffocating me with his clingy essence. 

“Y/N, could you look at me?”

I groan and push against his chest.

“Space Jimin, please?” 

Jimin whines, but does what he’s told as he scoots over, leaving plenty of room between us. 

“Can I hold your hand?” he asks. 

I roll my eyes and place my hand down in the middle of the space, allowing him to intertwine our hands. 

“Y/N, are you a-all right?” 

I scoff at his question. Do I fucking look all right? Could not pick up the fact that I was having fun and his clingy ass ruined it?

“Y/N-”

“No, Jimin!” I shout, “I’m not all right! you made me lose the game and fucked up my time with Baekhyun!”

Jimin scowls as his eyes furrow in an intimidating manner. 

“What else would you have done with him if I wasn’t there?” he ponders.

“What the fuck are you suggesting Jimin?”

He hesitates, mouth opening and closing as he slides back over, pressing himself against me. God, I don’t have time. I rise and he predictably follows. My skin flares again as a flood of tears build up. I can’t believe he’d even fathom the thought of me cheating. 

“Y/N I didn’t mean it!”

“Then what did you mean Jimin? Do you really think I’d do that to you? Are you insane?”

Jimin pushes the coffee table back with his foot prior to getting down to his knees while never breaking his grip on my wrist. I try to step away, yet his other hand flies up to my knee. 

“Jimin-”

“You’re right!” he gasps, “I am insane! For you, Y/N, I love you so much. I-”

He pauses again as my lip quivers and the tears flow down my cheeks. Jimin’s up in an instant, hands cupping my cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the tears. 

“Don’t cry Jagiya, I didn’t mean it,” he whispers. 

“But you still did it Jimin,” I say, “maybe I just need some time away.”

Jimin pouts, his arms wrap around my waist as he leans into me. His chest and forehead press against me. This time I don’t move, feeling him this close soothes me. 

“Please, I know I’ve been a jerk today.”

“No,” I say, “more like an asshole.”

Jimin giggles, his breath hitting my ear as his lips ghost across my neck. 

“I know,” he whines, “can I make it up to you?”

I nod as I lace my fingers through his black locks, eliciting a low groan from him. 

“Of course you will, you’ve been so bratty all day,” I snap, “you were jealous, weren’t you?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as my grip tightens on his hair, not a word coming from his mouth, forcing me to panic. 

“Jimin, this isn’t too much, is it?” I ponder. 

His eyes pop open, brown pupils shrouded in lust.

“No, it just feels so good mommy,” he moans. 

My body jolts at his sudden switch into the pet name. Jimin usually uses the mommy card when he wants to submit fully. This time however, I don’t want to be nurturing, I’ve got something better in mind. 

“No mommy today baby boy,” I say, “try again.”

Jimin gulps and drops back to his knees.   

“Mistress?”

I don’t even get a chance to nod as Jimin’s fingers scramble on the button and zipper of my jeans, forcing my breath away. 

“Jimin-”

“I’ll make you feel good mistress, please-”

“No,” I command, “bad boys don’t get to touch, on the couch.”

Jimin freezes, but don’t move, keeping his lips between his teeth while aiming those saddening eyes. Maybe it would have worked if he wasn’t a brat earlier. 

“On the couch baby,” I say.

Jimin hops up before I could repeat. My eyes follow the tent growing in his black jeans as he plops down on the couch. I follow slowly, taking my sweet time to hover over him then straddle him. He growls, it comes deep from his throat once I sit directly on his growing problem, eyes shut as his head lulls back. 

“Jimin, sweetie, eyes on me.”

Jimin tilts his head and squirms as bounce up and down on his lap. 

“God, mo-mistress don’t tease,” he moans. 

I tilt my head in faux confusion as my hand wonders down his toned chest before stopping at his belt. 

“It’s not teasing when you brought this upon yourself sweetie.”

I gasp at how hard he feels under me. 

“J-Just punish me already!” he cries, “I just want to feel you! Please!”

I slide from his lap and down to the floor to make quick work of his belt, tossing it aside to roll his zipper down. His bulge is more prominent in his boxers, I gently palm at it as I bring the boxers down to Jimin’s ankles along with his jeans. His member pops up, it already hard upright and leaking with pre cum. 

“So hard for me already baby,” I say, “I’ve barely touched you yet.”

Jimin stifled a moan as I tapped my fingers against his hard cock.

“Hmm, no. Bad boys don’t get to be silent,” I say, “open your mouth, let me hear you.”

“Ah! Y-Y/N, mmm,” he groans as I slide my fingers around him then pump slowly. 

“Huh? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Y/N I’m-”

He cuts himself off with a high pitched moan as I speed up, jerking him at a steady pace. The way his eyes roll prior to shutting lights a fire within me, forcing me to close my legs at how wet I’ve gotten. 

“Jimin, tell me,” I say, “tell me what you were going to say and I’ll go as fast as you like.”

Jimin squirms, his hands clutching onto the soft fabric of the couch for dear life. 

“Oh God!” he shouts, “I-I’m sorry, Y/N.”

There it is, exactly what I wanted to hear. I slow my movements just a bit, licking my lips as Jimin bucks into my hand. 

“Continue,” I say.

Jimin blinks. A gleam of sweat slicks down his forehead as he breathes through his mouth. Tears build in his eyes, making my heart sink. 

“Jimin, baby, talk to me, are you all right?”

“Yes, mistress,” he says, “I-I ah, I’m sorry, for today- I just get so worried. I felt like-”

“Like what Jimin?” I ask.

He whines as I let go of his member, stand and sit beside him. His eyes shift over to me expectantly.

“Come here, you can touch me,” I whisper, “you don’t have to call me mistress.”

Jimin scoots over, wrapping his arms around me as his dick presses against my thigh. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Over course you can.”

Our lips meet, Jimin hitting me with so much passion that I fall against the couch. His hands travel down to my shirt, reaching down to squeeze my breasts, making me gasp against his mouth. 

“I want you so bad, Y/N,” he says, “can I be inside you?”

As soon as I nod, Jimin’s clawing at my jeans, dragging them down along with my panties. A sigh escapes me as the air hits me, along Jimin’s intense stare. The tears in his eyes still linger as he pushes himself against my warm center. We both moan as he enters fully, his arms clutch onto my sides while I cling onto his shirt. 

“Jimin, tell me what you’re thinking baby,” I breathe, “please, I- ah!”

Jimin pulls out then slowly thrusts back in, sighing against my neck while he steadily moves. 

“I-I’m your one and only, right? Y/N?” he whispers.

I nod through half lidded eyes as his thrusts continue to build until his hips knead into my own at a quick pace. 

“Ah! Fuck yes! Jimin, you’re my one and only, do you understand?”

Jimin grunts as his thrusts start to slow.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” he groans, “I’m so close, is it ok if I?”

I nod. 

“Go ahead, I want to feel all of you.”

Jimin gives me a few more powerful thrusts before spilling himself inside, groans against my neck as he trembles. I hit my high as well, my feet clenching hard as my chest heaves along with his. 

“Jimin-”

He cuts me off with a deep kiss, pulling out as he does so. 

“Are you sure you forgive me?” he asks. 

I get lost in his deep, brown pupils before answering. 

“Yes, now could you please?”

I gesture to his mess down my legs and he brightens. 

“Oh! Of course! I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere!”

I roll my eyes as he kisses my forehead and bolts up stairs.   

#bts pjm #pjm #bts smut #sub!bts #sub!jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x fem reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #park jimin imagines #park jimin imagine #park jimin smut #jimin smut #byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #sub!kpop #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bts jimin #bts jimin park #park jimin x you #bts jimin x reader #bts jimin x you #dom!reader #bts fanfics #bts fanfiction

[rvmmm21]

. you know who i am? .

k, so i didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand. also, my first time writing in present tense? idk how to feel about it, but i guess it’s different. it felt so different writing for like actual humans lol. my first ‘normal’ fic, this is!

please for the sake of this making sense can we all pretend jennie, joy and irene are around the same age? also look who had fun with brand names. moi.

anyways this is [badgirl/bully!joohyun ‘persuading’ clumsy freshman!seungwan to be her assignment buddy] 

...

University culture is grating.

It’s overwhelming and it suffocates her. She has no time to prepare herself for the apparent runway the halls have become, what with the stupid-rich kids treating every day like it’s a fashion show; Seungwan can barely blink from one person to the next without being smacked across the face with fur coats from Chanel, Louis Vuitton sunglasses hidden under Prada nylon bucket hats and Off-White tracksuits tucked into Balenciaga socks. She hadn’t considered a future in law enforcement, but had she done so, anyone who tucked their trousers into their socks mid-calf would find themselves behind bars with the rest of the criminal scum. End of.

Just as she dusts her hands of that smug little sentiment, Seungwan finds herself with a face full of hair, and an even bigger nose full of what smells like laundry detergent. She lets out an embarrassing squeal, and the girl turns round to face her. A ghost of a scowl brushes across her face before she fixes her with an indiscernible gaze.

That scowl is an awful colour on a face as pretty as yours, she impulsively thinks.

Seungwan knows no more about the history of art and the intricacies of sculpture than the average Joe, but she’s sure Michelangelo missed the mark with David. She inwardly laughs at the thought of the man dedicating his entire being to crafting his flimsy idea of ‘perfection’ when she’d just bumped into it; the real thing. Of course, if that was defined by forming new constellations from faded freckles on flawless skin, or vantablack tresses framing sharp features like a painting, then yes; she was, by very definition, ‘the perfect (wo)man’. Easily outdoing anyone within a 50-metre radius.

Heck, make that 500.

The girl glares intimidation and Seungwan manages to save herself the humiliation of drooling in front of the white-hot beauty and her friends with a quick gulp, already feeling crimson seeping into her cheeks.

Perfect; now that she’s watched whatever new potential friendship this was blow up in her face, all she has to do is avoid her at all costs from here on out.

She mouths a haphazard apology and zooms past before anything can come of it, keeping her head down even after she’s well out of sight. Seulgi, Seulgi, Seulgi, save me, she brisk walks and begs all the way to class.

~~~~~~~~~~

A small commotion rings through the lecture hall of keyboard clicks and lethargic shuffles, calling to attention the girl who’s just spilt her drink down her front, now frantically digging around in her backpack for anything she can use to soak it up. A few jeering giggles are stifled, meanwhile students close by donate tissues and sympathetic looks. They are gratefully accepted with rapid-fire bows and machine-gun stuttered apologies.

“That freshman’s just ruined her rep, huh?” Jennie chuckles, “blindly walking into people… can’t even keep liquid in the cup. Give her a dog collar and a sign and she’s good to go.”

“Eh, I thought it was cute.”

Jennie’s retort comes quick.

“Sooyoung, you think anything in a skirt is cute.”

“What,” the girl says, ignoring the implication, “Haetnimie doesn’t wear skirts. And she’s not even wearing one right now. Plus, I didn’t say ‘she’s cute’, I said ‘it’s cute’. Learn the difference, idiot… it’s not like I wanna have at her or anything…”

Jennie shoots her an incredulous look and Sooyoung relents the banter. They both turn their attention to the girl sitting next to them, completely un-present in the moment. Sooyoung notices who she’s looking at and leans in to nudge her.

“Joohyun,” she whispers, poking her in the ribs when it’s obvious their friend is well on her way to signing a contract with NASA with how apparently well accustomed to space she is, “what do you think of her? Or are you still mad she walked into you?”

“Nah, forget it,” Jennie waves her off before she’s even had a chance to respond, “she’s not interested. I had to literally pay her money to go on a stupid double date with me in high school. I washed five cars for her to not even hold his hand once during the movie.”

Instead of participating, Joohyun sighs, casting the girl in question a seemingly uninterested stare. Unbothered eyes take in the sight she’s presented with: frustrated brows knitted together under a wispy caramel fringe and a blot of taro milk tea the size of Canada staining her baby blue jumper.

“I want her.”

The words are so simple her friends almost miss them entirely.

Sooyoung and Jennie battle for first place in an impromptu competition of ‘who’s-the-most-shocked’.

“You’re joking! Yah, you’re so annoying seriously, now?! You couldn’t have ‘wanted’ Min-seok in year nine?! I paid good, hard cash for that stupid boy!”

Joohyun looks at her, smug as a cat.

“I did it for you, Jennie. I didn’t even remember his name was Min-ho.”

“Min-seok.”

“Yeah, right.”

Sooyoung, wide-eyed and on the verge of passing out, grabs Joohyun by the shoulders, ignoring the glare she receives for it. “Joohyun, seriously? You’re serious. You want her like want her? Or want her like you wanted that cookbook after that trial week of Food Tech during summer break?”

Joohyun regards her, absolutely blasé. “I don’t follow recipes.”

“Exactly. Are you play-”

Sooyoung’s statement dies down with the rest of the class as the lecturer walks in. Furious clicking, hurricane scribbles and flipping pages are all that remain as the lesson kicks off, Jennie and Sooyoung casually scrolling through Instagram while the professor speaks. Joohyun leans forward, elbows on desk and chin resting on interlocked fingers. Her full attention is on the poor girl on the other side of the hall, intermittently peeling the cold, damp fabric away from her body, face flushed and avoiding all eye contact. Joohyun snickers at how uncomfortable it must be to have to sit through class in a wet jumper, how awkward and squeamish she looks.

Strawberry-tinted lips curl into the faintest smirk.

Hello cutie.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yah! Kang Seul-Gi!” Seungwan calls out to chocolate-swirly space buns and baggy gym clothes hurtling towards her from across campus grounds, “where the heck were you?!”

“Sorry sorry! Overslept!”

“What!? Your class starts at noon! … and this is like… day 1!”

The girl looks like she’s barely had the chance to screw her head on the right way as she joins Seungwan on the steps of the university entrance.

Seungwan’s sweating buckets; physically and metaphorically, both from the waves of humidity and her all-exclusive one-idiot circus show this morning in class. That little muck up makes it to the tippy top of the endless list of embarrassing things Seungwan has stored in her long-term memory.

“You okay?”

Seungwan palms rosy cheeks as she takes another mouthful of her rainbow sherbet cone.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.”

Seulgi chortles as her best friend recounts her ordeal, trying to subdue the sea of smart alec remarks bubbling under her skin.

“So that was great, too. And now I’m a laughing stock. A meme. They’re probably editing my stupid face as I speak…”

Seulgi reverts back to the first incident. Of course she would.

“Sooo… not like in the dramas then?”

Seungwan hangs her head, “not at all… she looked like she wanted to kill me.”

Seulgi lets out a snort before prodding her with more curious questions. The cogs in Seungwan’s brain churn and stutter as she tries to filter as many redundant adjectives as possible, only using ones she deems absolutely necessary to describe the most beautifully terrifying girl she’s ever seen.

Just then, as if Seungwan had meant to conjure hell itself, the three girls make an appearance from round the corner, chatting amongst themselves and taking Seungwan and Seulgi by surprise. The latter glances down where steely fingers are squeezing her wrist, as if that’d activate some magical cloak of invisibility. Seungwan’s as good as swallowed her tongue, shakily motioning to the girl in the middle of the black velvet storm with her eyes and a few nose twitches.

“H-her…” she stutters, finally getting her brain into gear after they leave, “… her.”

Innocent eyes double in size at the realisation.

“Wha-wait no, her?! You bumped into… her?! Her, Bae Joohyun leader of killer senior pack Bae Joohyun?”

Seungwan’s heart only thumps faster at the panic in Seulgi’s voice, but her words still mean nothing. The other girl swipes the dangling question marks off the top of her friend’s clueless head.

“Yo Wan-ah, you have to lay low. I mean why would you even – oh geez wow you really messed up. Can’t you look where you’re – I can’t even begin to – why would you – oh my gosh!”

Seulgi’s disjointed sentences allow enlightenment to trickle in and Seungwan slaps a hand over her forehead, mortified.

Oh god no. That’s the Bae Joohyun?

She’d heard the rumours. Many, rumours. Bae Joohyun who makes her juniors cry. Bae Joohyun; precious daughter of the most elusive mafia gang leader in all of Korea. Bae Joohyun; ice queen senior, sole roost-ruler of Hanyang University and the biggest bully you’ll ever meet.

Positively preposterous, empty claims with no evidence whatsoever to back them up… she hopes.

“Pft yeah okay she’s… mean, but she’s not like… jesus or anything she can’t… like… part the Red Sea or, turn water into vodka I don’t know,” Seungwan tries and fails at consoling herself, receiving nothing but an apologetic pat on the back from the girl beside her.

“Yeah well… she’s not the messiah but everyone treats her like it. And for the sake of your own neck, you’d better start too. Watch out, Wan-ah.”

Seungwan hadn’t paid any mind to those wet-eared freshmen whom she’d overheard during orientation gossiping about Joohyun and her charming little posse; but perhaps she should have.

She gulps, too afraid to think of anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan often fantasizes at work. There has to be some way to pass the time, after all.

Deep down she’s a sucker for romance, she knows it far too well; she envisions herself ten years down the line, letting whoever she has on the other end of the phone know that she’ll be home soon, that work has just been extra grueling today, and that she cannot wait to give them a cuddle. She’ll stir the dinner pot while she tells them stories, pausing in between to remind her lover how beautiful they are. Perhaps one day, the honour will be hers, to see her soulmate walking down the aisle.

But as the tinkling of the doorbell rings through her café, Seungwan files those cloudy fantasies for later and greets her first customers with a smile.

She hasn’t been sleeping very well, worrying her mind with ridiculous thoughts and impossible scenarios. All involving Joohyun as a tick-tocky alligator and herself as none other than Captain ‘I’m-actually-innocent-why-are-you-still-trying-to-eat-me’ Hook.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s five minutes to closing time. Seungwan suppresses the yawn in her chest and blinks away the moisture in her eyes. Just zero to sixty, five times in your head. You got this, Seungwan. Gosh, there’s no one in the café and hardly anyone outside. She briefly contemplates closing early.

“Small iced Americano.”

“Coming r – aii!! Ai…!”

Seungwan’s adrenaline spikes so high she could serve it ice cold in a coffee cup right now. Caught completely off guard, she begins stammering nonsense behind the till, crinkling the leather of her dark brown work apron and then using the hem of her polo shirt to wring clammy palms none the drier. All the while her customer stands there, brow quirked and card held out between slender fingers. Her expression, although slightly amused, threatens her to take her money, or else.

Before she can open her mouth, a buttery voice snaps her out of her trance.

“Hello, Seung – wan… hey, don’t we have Korean Literature together?”

Seungwan tries not to spontaneously combust on the job as she instinctively slaps a hand over her name tag. It’s useless though, it is now known. Known to her, of all people. The notorious Bae Joohyun; dressed in Acne jeans and an over-sized midnight Balenciaga cardigan, she looks like any other young, caffeine-dependent university student. But Seungwan knows a lot better.

Oh god save me… what the hell is she doing here!? This has to be a set up. She’s here for me. I’m going to die tonight. Mummy, daddy I love you.

“J-J-Juh…”

She can’t say it. All the years of schooling; learning the alphabet and how to enunciate your words drain out through the holes in her ears. She gawks dumbly, moving her head in what could be considered to be a nod.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you,” she doesn’t even bother trying to sound surprised, “I’m Joohyun.”

Don’t I know.

All Seungwan can do is nod again, hating herself for even breathing right now.

Joohyun clicks her tongue and fiddles with the card in her hand, impatient, “soooo… is this Americano free, or…?”

Yes, yes it’s free, please just take it and go! I’ll upgrade it to an extra-large if you want, on me! If it means I’m spared for the rest of my student life, take it all! Jesus, how did you even find me?!

“Ah, yes. Sorry! Uh, yes that’ll be um two fif – two… two thirty.”

There’s a shaky exchange of a debit card and a forgotten peace treaty iced Americano before Seungwan takes an unconscious shuffle back from the register, eyes glued to the smudge on the toe of her right sneaker, unable to meet Joohyun’s piercing gaze for too long.

“Thank you, Seungwan.”

The way she lingers on the ‘S’ whispers shivers down the girl’s spine. She glances up at the worst possible time, too, nearly jumping out of her mismatched Muji socks when she sees Joohyun’s hibiscus-tinted lips bloom into a coy smirk.

“I’ll see you around.”

And with what a shivering Seungwan could’ve sworn was a terrible attempt at a wink, Joohyun is gone. Clutching at her chest, she tries to slow her accelerated heartrate, praying she doesn’t need heart surgery after what she’s just been through.

Seulgi’s so hearing about this.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Daebak,” Sooyoung scoffs, side-eyeing Joohyun as she twiddles her pen.

“What else did you say?” Jennie presses, taking a sip of her chai latte.

Joohyun merely hums, disclosing no further details of her little cafe incident. She misses Jennie’s disbelieving grin when the walking, talking definition of awkward bumbles into the lecture hall, just on time, armful of texts and messy cinnamon locks matted to her face.

Sooyoung can’t resist a jest. “Joohyun, look. It’s idiocy on legs.”

Joohyun bites back a snort as her eyes follow the girl stumbling and murmuring apologies all the way to her seat. She slumps into the chair with burning cheeks, brushing her hair back with her fingers and fiddling with her gingerbread fringe. Too cute, Joohyun thinks, gritting her teeth.

It happens about mid-way in the class. The mention of pair work triggers the uniform eye-roll, groan and grumble combo, more so from the seniors, who sure as hell don’t want to be paired with icky, snot-nosed first-years who can barely lift their spoons to their mouths. The grumbling evaporates when it is stated that, although compulsory, it is not a fixed-paired assignment.

Seungwan breathes a sigh of relief along with a few others, content to set up camp in the aisles of the library, perfectly undisturbed. But she suddenly feels paler than chalk; flashbacks of heeled boots, midnight cardigans and heart surgery flooding into her veins once more when she catches a pair of stealthy pupils regarding her from across the room. A deceptively sweet smile sparkling on those dreaded lips, breath-taking and utterly petrifying all at once. Even from the other side of a bloody lecture theatre, Bae Joohyun has Seungwan sweating bullets and unconsciously fidgeting at her collar to release steam no one else can see.

About a minute away from hurling herself out the nearest window, Seungwan diverts her attention to her notebook at the last second. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan stabs her chopstick into the egg yolk, watching it dribble all over her rice. She’s jealous of her own best friend who doesn’t have to live every waking hour with a red sniper laser dot on her back.

Should’ve majored in art too, goddamnit, she curses, poking her lunch in a dazed stupor.

“Wan-ah!”

She scoffs at the familiarity, but Seulgi’s crescent moon grin makes Seungwan momentarily forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

The black cursive of Han Kang’s literature stares up at her as she tries to digest what she’s reading, but she swears her brain allocates the worst times for that sneaky Bae Joohyun to pop up like an unwanted advertisement. Seems like now, she’s going to have to sit through an entire trilogy.

Despite the crippling dread, Seungwan can’t help but wonder. They’re so silly, but she wonders them anyway. She feels free to let her mind wander in the safety of the university library.

Bae Joohyun; Seungwan’s mind is unchanged; she’s the most beautiful girl she’s laid eyes on. It’s a unique kind of beauty; mysteriously edgy, knife-like and femme fatale. The grin Joohyun gave her in class this morning, she knows she should be running from it, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it’s been playing in her head on repeat ever since.

Seungwan unintentionally imagines what it would be like to kiss that sunset-infused smirk right off her face.

Too bad she’s a mean one, she sighs.

She doesn’t get much further with the actual task at hand when her blood-pressure plummets; she watches leader of the killer senior pack, Bae Joohyun, artlessly sit down in the chair next to her. It’s like the world stops spinning for the second it takes their eyes to meet, and Seungwan quivers in her seat, thoughts of literature fleeing out the back of her brain.

Trying to be polite, she gives her a courteous nod and returns to her reading. But Joohyun just sits there, staring, peppering her body with smoking bullet holes – it frightens her in the weirdest way. She can’t help the tiny bubble of… excitement? At the fact that Hanyang’s notorious Bae Joohyun is sitting next to her. Probably to get close enough to kill her, of course, but she’d count her blessings, no matter how terrifying. The thread finally snaps, and Seungwan is able to channel her inner stone statue no more, wordlessly excusing herself and stumbling to the bathroom.

It’s empty and silent; exactly what she needs. She flicks some cool water over the burning in her cheeks and dabs at the heat welled in the corners of her eyes.

But just as she’s about to leave, Joohyun’s standing in the doorway; cloaked in all her intimidating aura and eclipsing her only exit.

“Bathroom break so soon?” Joohyun’s voice drips into her ears like melted honey as she observes a wry smile crawl onto her face, “we’ve barely gotten started. Let’s get back to work… partner.”

It’s kicking in only now what Joohyun is saying. And it takes everything Seungwan has to formulate a pathetic response.

“Oh right, a-about that,” she nervously chuckles, averting her gaze and scratching the back of her neck, “uh, I-I was just um… I don’t wanna drag anyone down with – you know because you’re a senior and all – was m-maybe thinking –”

She doesn’t get very far when Joohyun begins advancing, walking towards her with such sure, dominating strides Seungwan has no choice but to back away, the piercing squeaks of Adidas sneakers easily drowning out the clicking of Louboutin heeled boots. Joohyun sports that coy smirk the whole time she’s cornering poor Seungwan, further and further back, until…

A tiny yelp is torn from her as her back hits the wall. Seungwan strains up to meet her eyes, 5 inch boots are a very useful intimidation tool. Her heart feels about as fragile as sugar glass, and she thinks it would do her good to invest in those styrofoam packing peanuts and a roll of caution tape.  

Joohyun observes the little caramel-haired mouse girl she’s caught; pressed against the cool, beige tile, both hands out in front of her, quivering like a jello pile. She quickly notes the way the top of Seungwan’s head just about grazes the bottom of the wall-mounted paper towel dispenser, and it stretches her grin even further. She looks irresistible, those doe eyes the colour of warm cocoa. Who knew she had a thing for sweet faces, well-intentions and weak-hearts?

Realising her hands aren’t doing anything to keep the other girl at bay, Seungwan drops them like a tonne of bricks - she’s never felt so small and helpless in her life. The rich scent of vanilla and mint tickles her nose; Joohyun’s too close, and she really needs those fragile stickers to go over the thumping in her chest. But she also wants to nuzzle in closer to that intoxicating shampoo smell.

“P-please… I-I didn’t mean to…”

Her voice sounds so tiny and fragile, it tugs on Joohyun’s heartstrings.

“You know who I am?” she demands in somewhat of a growl, caging the smaller girl in with both arms pressed on either side of her head, causing her to gasp out, “you’ve heard?”

Seungwan shrinks a little more, petunias searing onto her milky cheeks at the proximity, but terror-stricken nonetheless. It’s burning, and it’s too much.

A small ‘mm’ and a teary nod is all she can offer.

Joohyun shoots her a challenging smirk, a kaleidoscope of obsidian pebbles flicker in her darkened eyes as she brings a single finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her so she’s forced to look up.

“And you still think you have a choice?”

Seungwan wishes she could rear up at the challenge, hammer some humility into that smug attitude in front of her; put Bae Joohyun in her place. But who is she to change the way the world works? Girls like Joohyun toy with what they want, and get what they toy with; the natural order of things Seungwan has no hope of re-routing. Her resolve, her dignity and everything she’s built up in her 20 years on earth crumbles at her feet; she doesn’t bother picking up the pieces.

With that, she looks up at the girl who still has her locked in with her eyes alone, and meekly shakes her head.

Seungwan can finally breathe when Joohyun detaches herself from the wall and runs both hands down the front of her blouse. She hears a chuckle and before she knows it, there’s an arm around her waist, moving them in tandem.

She doesn’t see the triumphant smile etched into Joohyun’s rosebud lips, like she’s swallowed a coat hanger. All she knows is that they’re now bound by this assignment, and that Joohyun is leaving with exactly what she came for.

Seungwan hides a shy grin of her own.

#wenrene #university au #bully irene #red velvet #i got carried away #seungwan the cafe worker #seungwan doesn't mind #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios