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babblydrabbly · 2 years

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take care of yourself, rick flag

rick flag x argus agent gn!reader - general - hurt/comfort - 2k words - warnings: language. mentions of bruises/injuries. cuddling ♡

Rick catches a cold on a mission and experiences mild consequences. You resist the urge to say 'I told you so'.

Rick awakens with a sharp inhale.

The last thing he expects to see Is you, sitting there across from him in his own living room. Particularly when he can’t even remember how he got there himself. You stop flipping through channels on the television to glance over at Rick unhurriedly from the armchair.

“How do you feel?” You greet.

Rick moves to sit up but is stopped by a sharp pain radiating from his right temple. When he lifts an aching arm to inspect the area, he’s met with a thick barrier of gauze. A pain seems to spread as he shakes the sleep off- the stuffy feeling of pressure in his nose and under his eyes, the pins and needles in his throat as he works to swallow dryly.

“Like absolute shit. What the hell happened?” He rasps.

“Borderline concussion. Don’t fuss with it.” You say before turning back to the screen. You mute the sound with a click and set the remote down.

Crossing the small space over to where he’s laid out on the larger couch, you have a seat next to him. It’s when you reach toward him that he notices your dominant arm is in a sling. Bandages of your own peek out from it up to your wrist as you busy yourself with checking his temperature.

The cool, smooth touch of the back of your hand soothes the feverish skin above Rick’s furrowed brow.

“Shit. The crossfire...” He finally utters. Rick’s eyes widen. “The mission.”

He makes to sit up and you immediately veto the idea. Under normal circumstances, your gentle push across his chest would hardly be enough to stop Rick from moving. But between his head and his aching bones, Rick’s body falls back onto the cushions without resistance. His vision skews just a fracture, and when he tries to sniffle, no air makes its way up his nose. He grimaces.

“What happened, Y/n?” There’s an edge to his rough voice. That responsibility as task force leader bordering on obsession over every detail, every possible misstep.

“Jesus, you really did a number on yourself.” You chuckle, smiling.

Rick flashes you an irked look.

“Well, I already told you, but you were a little out of it when they were making sure you could sleep again. Mission’s over, soldier. Job well done.”

Just as you expect from the man you knew so well, Rick doesn’t look pleased. Not when he can’t think past the blur of pain medication and the last few days in and out of sleep. “Who’d we lose?”

“No casualties. Just a few fractured limbs,” You nod your head down to your arm, “and maybe one of the funniest fucking tumbles I’ve ever seen.” You grin.

Rick frowns, sniffling. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, what do you remember?”

Rick’s eyes flicker down to the space between the two of you as he tries to concentrate past all the damn cotton muffling up his head.

He remembers setting the squad up for an air drop out the back of the helicraft. Remembers landing down into the compound with you right on his six. He can even recall you shouting something- something that doesn’t reach him, and then the world tilting on its axis until he was looking at you, running toward him, your feet still on the ground but entirely upside down. Then, blackness.

“Did I…did I get hit?” He wonders aloud. You watch him pat himself down and check for any more bandages. “What’s so funny?” He grumbles at your sudden burst of airy laughter. Colonel Rick Flag certainly didn’t pout, but whatever it was you were looking at, it came close.

“You sneezed.” When he stares at you, bewildered, you contain your laughter as best you can before explaining further. “Remember that fever you ignored?”

“That wasn’t anything.”

“Bull-shit, Richard. I watched you sneeze in the middle of a firefight so hard, you slipped and ate shit so badly you knocked yourself out.”

Rick stares at you, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come his scowl deepens. “......You’re lyin’.”

“The doc said you had a sinus infection and you might have caught some vertigo. You fell like a tree, Rick. I thought you killed yourself.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me, Y/n.”

“It’s true! Harkness and I had to drag you all the way back to the rendezvous point!” You exclaim in your own defense.

“What did I say about taking care of yourself, Rick?” You ask with a soft smile. More to the room than to him. “If you don’t choose when you rest, your body will do it for you.”

It was your mantra, particularly when the missions stacked on top of one another. When rest was nonexistent and Rick seemed to burn through more hours than he had. He gave one hundred percent of himself to whatever he had to. More than one hundred. Meeting you through the task force in the beginning felt like a challenge because you had been the opposite.

You had no military background. You’d gained your skill set through the private sector. A borderline mercenary. Rick wasn’t surprised to find you didn’t take the job as seriously. But he was curious when the constant arguments had shifted into friendly rivalry, which turned into the partnership the two of you shared now. Your trust came with care- a foregin concept to him, really. You asked if he’d eaten. If he’d slept. You sometimes shut his laptop on his fingers when he ignored you in favor of finishing up one last report detail.

When Rick tries to sit up again you give him your good arm to help this time. You leave him to hobble over to his bathroom where he flips on the light. Rick is startled by the face in the mirror.

He’d had his share of looking like crap after a tough assignment, but it wasn’t just the scrapes and bruising purple-yellow patch peeking from under the gauze wrapped around his head.

His entire visage was pale, save for the deep, dark bags under his eyes and the burning red nose, scaly and dry around the nostrils. Rick groans as he pats some water over his cheeks and neck before drying himself off with a towel. He attempts to blow his nose, but except for some greenish yellow mucus to wipe away, there isn’t much he can do about the painful blockage that seems stuck under his cheeks.

Rick quickly examines the new medication bottles beside the faucet- all in his name- before punching off the light and exiting the bathroom.

He gets settled down on the couch again creakily while you busy yourself in the kitchen with something out of view. There’s a throw blanket he’d been asleep under apparently. Something thick and still warm and not at all an item Rick would own. When he pulls it over his lap, he momentarily wishes he could smell again, if only to find out if this mystery blanket smelled anything like you.

You return with two steaming mugs. Rick takes his with a faint nod, unsure of the sudden, cared-for feeling in his chest. He watches you as you get settled in beside him on the same couch. You tuck your feet beneath you and grab the remote.

“What do you wanna watch? St. Louis vs. Gotham’s on soon.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up with a stuffy huff.

You glance over at him, “What?”

“Thanks for bringin’ me home, Y/n. But you don’t have to stay if you wanna head back. Think I’m good to go.”

You roll your eyes at the colonel. Still, you search his face for any hint you’ve overstayed your welcome now that he really was awake.

Hindsight had made the situation something to laugh at. Another story to look back on. But for a split second, when Colonel Flag had fallen face down into the mud, a cold spike of fear had overridden you. You were supposed to follow the mission plan at all costs. All of that was forgotten as you ran back and covered his unconscious body from the bullets until you could drag him to safety.

You were lucky you were a contracted agent and not a Belle Reve asset like the others, otherwise the orders you had blatantly disregarded coming from your ear piece would have gotten your head blown off, you were sure. And as punishment, despite the mission success, you’d been tasked with monitoring Rick in the hospital wing and bringing him home.

Luckily for you it was no punishment at all.

You turn back to the television and begin to surf the channels idly. Rick catches the near-visible smile as you shrug him off. “I’m good.”

The two of you watch the last half of a long action movie for the rest of the afternoon. Rick finds himself nodding off as you try to find coverage of the baseball game from earlier, until his head finally dips down towards the arms he has crossed over his chest. You yawn, too, and eventually drift off to the low tv volume and Rick’s ragged but steady breathing.

It’s dark outside when you rouse from sleep. You blink against the blue glow illuminating the living room. God, what time was it?

You move to reach for your phone laying on the coffee table when you find yourself stuck. The warm weight on top of you stirs in his sleep.

Rick’s face presses against your stomach with a soft, muffled rumble. The weight of his head is almost too much for your aching, decommissioned arm but you don’t dare move.

You must have stretched out as you dozed off. Rick too. And now you found yourself with the towering colonel lying between your bracketing legs, his big arms wrapped around your middle gently. The images on screen flicker against the side of his face as his eyes flit beneath his closed eyelids.

Your fingers thread their way through the parts of his hair not wrapped up in gauze, combing through it as you watch him. He was a large, heavy furnace under the fluffy throw blanket you had brought him back at the hospital. The bastards were letting him lie there shivering through his chills, and you’d told someone off for not doing anything. Fucking Bell Reve.

You smile down at Rick. Even in his drugged up haze, he’d remembered to bring it with you when you’d forgotten.

As if feeling your gaze on him, Rick finally wakes. You lock eyes with him as he cranes to look up at you, your smile still on your face.

“Who won?” He quips, his voice still a tired, hoarse thing.

You dare to keep carding your fingers through his dark blond locks. Dare to not break this spell he seems to be under, there in your arms. You shrug and shake your head.

“Don’t know. Fell asleep.” You admit quietly.

He hums in response. You think for a moment he might have fallen back asleep, until he shifts to raise himself on his elbows with a groan.

“Careful-” Your palm hovers around his shoulders as you mourn the loss of his warmth in an instant.

But before you can sit up and pretend it never happened, Rick doesn’t get off you. Instead, he nudges you around until he’s lying beside you, his arms wrapping around your torso again. He adjusts the blanket til it covers you both comfortably.

You let your hand fall back onto him- let him rest his head higher up on your chest this time until you can run your nose and lips across the top of his head, breathing in his scent faintly. Rick mumbles something you don’t quite catch.

“Hm?”

Your heart skips a beat as he looks up at you, his lips so close now you could close the gap between the two of you with little more than a centimeter of space.

“I said get yourself some rest too, Darlin’.”

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag #rick flag fanfiction #Joel kinnaman fanfiction #dceu fanfiction #mywords*

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ditttiii · 4 years

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Enchanted To Meet You || 5.5 || JK’s Interlude.

Banner by: @thebannershop

◈ Summary: No one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates, for that matter. Humans don't have soulmates, but shapeshifters do. What are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren't even human

BTS is on a hiatus and ARMY thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. You believe that too, at least you did until you realised that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as Hybrids because apparently, you all are soulmates.

◈ (Hybrid AU // Soulmate AU) (Fluff // humour // smut // angst // eventually NSFW) (NC-18) (Ot7 x Reader) (slow burn)

◈ series master-list

◈ Word Count: 2051

◈ Warnings: Maybe one curse word? PG-13 (sfw)

You're the debt that brought me back to my life 너는 내 삶에 다시 뜬 햇빚 The Second Coming of My Dreams as a Child 어린 시절 내 꿈들의 재림 I don't know what this feeling is 모르겠어 이 감정이 뭔지 Is this a deceitful dream? 혹시 여기도 꿈 속인건지

Jungkook hates quite a few things in his life at the moment—hates having to hide from his soulmate, hates that he has to pretend like he was just a rabbit and not a living, breathing human too, however more than anything else he hates himself.

God, he despises himself now more than ever. He had hurt you, made you cry, made you fear your own home. He was supposed to be someone you felt safe with, and yet he almost gave you a heart attack today.

Jungkook at the moment feels like a fraud, a sham as he gazes at you—looks at your peaceful, sleeping face. Small, warm puffs of breath hits his head and he feels his fur move under the soft force.

‘Tingles’, He thinks.

He feels your warm presence cocoon him as his body heat mingles with yours. Here, curled beside your sleeping figure like this, he can't help but curse himself. His self-loathing at an all-time high, as he thinks back to what had happened a few hours ago.

He knew it was a possibility, knew that it could happen.

The chance of you coming home suddenly and catching him in his human form wasn't an improbable one.

Jungkook, though, couldn't stand it anymore. It wasn't like he would have died if he hadn't shifted, but being a rabbit all the time wasn't the most comfortable feeling ever either.

His bones ached, and his muscles were sore because of the prolonged shifted state.

He also wasn't used to being in his animal form for an extended duration of time. He'd usually shift back after a few hours, and so this wasn't a problem he had been aware of before.

The feeling of staying shifted for days on end had him feeling claustrophobic. It was the kind of claustrophobia he thinks he would experience if he was locked inside a too tiny box with his limbs wrapped awkwardly and uncomfortably close to his body.

Suffice to say it wasn't the most comfortable state of being.

His plan was to make use of the few minutes while you were out shopping to shift back to his human form and just stretch. He hadn't planned on staying like that for longer than maybe ten minutes. But when he had shifted-back the relief—oh god, the relief was almost intoxicating.

It's potency so concentrated, he had ended up groaning out loud as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The numbing, constant aching of his bones and muscles, more than anything else, had left him feeling exhausted for the last few days. The pins and needles feeling when he had shifted back was enough to send him tumbling down onto the floor, as his unsteady feet refused to hold his weight.

Jungkook had been practising boxing with his trainer before all of this had happened. He also had a black belt in Taekwondo—the very principle of which was to harness an indomitable spirit. He was fit, active, athletic and buff. Staying shifted for extended periods into a form so much smaller than his human one, was borderline torturous at times.

Jungkook simply did not know how he was supposed to hold back.

He had many qualities that he was admired for, but iron like self-restraint wasn't exactly one of them. Maybe, more like the lack, thereof the aforementioned, self-restraint would be more appropriate.

Jungkook wasn't born talented. Not like the rest of the band members. As a student, he wasn't really the brightest pea in the pod either, his math skills are still nothing to boast about.

What most people saw was the end product, the final result that would come out after Jungkook would spend hours, days—months, perfecting it. He had said it before, but in reality, he wasn't as perfect as his stage persona portrayed him to be. While BTS's Jungkook was perfection personified, with his precise dance timings and on-point vocal notes, Jeon Jeongukk struggled.

When Jeongukk had first joined BTS, he had been more of a dancer than he was a singer. He had never, ever had the assumption or even the hope, that he would be chosen as the main vocalist. When he was rejected during the auditions for Superstar K, the talent show, Jeongkook was heartbroken.

It wasn't something he had ever talked in-depth about to ARMY, but his confidence in his vocal skills had taken a hit that day. He had chosen his then idol, IU Noona's song, and had sung it for weeks, perfected every single note until the feel of that vibration, the beat of that rhythm had synced to his very pulse.

But he was rejected, cast out before his audition could even be broadcasted.

He till date can't fully understand why bighit, let alone seven fucking agencies, had thought he was worth their time. Maybe it was fate playing its card and bringing him together with his soulmates, or it was just a coincidence—he didn't know why and probably never would.

He knows that it wasn't exactly a necessity for all of his soulmates to be idols, you clearly weren't. He knew precisely how lucky he was, and was therefore so utterly thankful that he could share his passion and love with all of his soulmates.

Yes, All of his soulmates, you included.

Jungkook isn't a snooper, not really. Sure, he has always been curious by nature, and his maknae persona only fuelled that image, thus overtime making him seem more like the baby in the group—but no he wasn't a snooper.

He knows how much he values his personal space and, so would never deliberately try to breach upon someone else's but you—god you, made him do things he would never choose to do before.

He hadn't wanted to, or well maybe he did want to, but he definitely didn't mean to. It wasn't like he had been planning to check your laptop folders.

No, because when just stretching hadn't quite fully loosened his body, he had thought he'd do a quick dance routine and get the blood flowing. How was he supposed to know that he would find BTS songs, their songs, his songs on there?

He shouldn't have been surprised, but he still was. Their fandom was pretty big, and the chances of a college girl listening to their music were pretty high. You were part of the demographic that they aimed and catered most towards, so it was to be expected, but it still caught him by surprise.

Dressed in one of your loose hoodies and a pair of loose pyjamas, he looks at the screen.

His breath still hitched in his throat as his eyes widened, glossy, doe-like large and oh so so curious.

His grip on the back of your chair slips, as he stumbles before getting a hold, and slowly sinks down onto the empty seat. Thinks about how you have probably spent hours pouring over your medical texts in the same exact chair, and that makes him feel closer to you.

He has been curled around you, has slept with his face literally pushed into your cleavage, but somehow the simple act of sharing a space that you spent a lot of your time in, sends his heart racing as a small smile overtakes his lips and he bites them to stop it from spreading entirely.

He fails, of course, he does.

He clicks on the folder titled 'BTS' and watches a list of sub-folders pop up on his screen. His heartbeat rises—thuds and beats strong enough that he feels it in his ears, in the back of his throat, in the wrist that touches the table as he glides the mouse across the surface.

His palms feel sweaty, and he feels this anxious feeling pool somewhere deep in his stomach, as his gut squeezes. It feels like his conscience is telling him something. That he shouldn't be doing this. This feels like something dangerous, but something he desires. The folder the screen displays the apple to his Adam.

You? his forbidden fruit.

His breaths grow shorter, as he unconsciously tries to be as quiet as he can be and leans forward to look at the vast array of songs you had. As his eyes rake over the meticulously named albums with their years after them written in brackets, he almost chuckles.

He isn't surprised to see that you were anal about categorizing your songs too. From what he had observed of you in the last few days, he would be more surprised if you weren't.

His finger glides over the scroll wheel of the mouse, as he reads the titles of the songs. Every single song they had released was on there—Official and covers.

Every. Single. One.

Whether you were just a really dedicated ARMY or it was because of the soulmate bond, he didn't know, but it doesn't matter to him what the reason was.

Because there they were, he and his hyungs splayed all over your computer screen. Their photoshoots all lined meticulously year after year, their random pictures that you had probably picked up from twitter or weverse grouped by year and then there were screenshots.

Screenshots of tweets, weverse, certain parts of interviews of theirs, that you had ever liked were all there. It was fascinating, surreal, insane to be able to see himself and the hyungs through your eyes, the eyes of their soulmate.

Somewhere, between finding you in that shelter, to now living with you, he had stopped thinking of you as human, as someone different.

Yes, you weren't quite the same as he was, but he didn't care anymore. Because you loved him, you cried for him, you laughed with him and more than anything else you completed him. Filled his aching, longing soul with love until it overflowed and he felt full, content—sated. His thirst for your presence quenched, for once in all his life.

However, the realisation that he had found his last soulmate hadn't fully sunk in yet. He couldn't even imagine what the others must be feeling right now, he was sleeping curled around you and, yet all he wanted to be was closer, it was this all-consuming feeling that kept pulling him under, dunking him in its depths.

The crazy part was he didn't even mind it anymore, he would drown in the deepest depths if he could feel your hand pulling him closer in there, your lips locking with his as you breathe air into him, save him, make him yours.

Kami, he wanted you to make him yours, mate him, mark him.

He knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon, you didn't even know they were your soulmates. Sure, you liked them as artists, but what teenage or college girl didn't have a favourite band? They could very well just be a passing fascination for you at this point, a fleeting interest, a secret guilty pleasure before you move on with your life.

Wasn't that how fame usually worked? It was eager, intense, loud until it suddenly wasn't and one was left with a gaping hole in their heart, that they aren't ever able to fill after.

Jungkook didn't want that, he didn't want that for his hyungs either. It was something he had figured out years ago. He wasn't about to let this fickle, fleeting fame catch him in its lusty claws.

He would give this life his all, pour literal sweat, blood and tears into it, but once his extended contract ends, he will step back.

He will bow down low as the curtains close for the stage of 'The Golden Maknae' and, the path paves for Jeon Jeongkook. The boy who had come from Busan with a heart full of hopes and dreams and had ended up achieving and getting more than he had ever even imagined or hoped for.

He would be thankful to his fans, to his company, to his Hyungs, to this industry, for taking care of him and letting him fly under their warm protection, but he would be done. As the curtains fall close, the mask will slip, and he'll turn, and you will be there.

You with your bright grin and glimmering eyes would look on at him proudly, and he'd kiss you, hold you and know that he didn't want fame because he had you.

And you were all he had wanted for as long as he can remember.

After all, you are the cause of his euphoria, a home with you his utopia.

Filling in the plot, adding it the finer details.

Since the taglist is pretty long now and I can’t continue to keep them all in my comments, I will be putting the taglist up here from next chapters onwards. Tumblr is glitchy and some of you might not be notified so I am sorry about that. However, if you are a regular reader and have left me feedback time and time again, whether it was a comment or an ask with your thoughts on this story, I’ll tag you down in the comments since I know you definitely do read the work and appreciate it and I am so grateful for your support.

Thank you for reading 💖

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janekfan · 4 years

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Starve

The slim aperture of light that fell across one unblinking eye illuminated its retina a soft, peculiar green, pupil dilating in a raw attempt to Know, as if the narrow gap Basira created by opening the door to take her turn in checking on Jon could slip it something new. Some relief for the weakness, the hunger, the pain of not feeding his god. She couldn’t help the visceral shudder; he was creepy, inhuman, there was no way around it, and as soon as his pale lids closed so did the door, key turning in the lock with dull finality.

“How’s he?” She couldn’t help the way she jumped when Daisy’s voice seemed to echo in her ear.

“Alive.”

Deftly, she pocketed the key. “You can bring him something to eat later.”

“A statement?” Daisy’s eyes narrowed.

“That would negate all the work he’s doing.” Before walking away she turned the handle a second time to make sure it was well and truly locked. He wanted this. He wanted to stop. More than that, he wanted to live and may have even found a reason. He was trying.

It didn’t stop her guilty disgust of him.

Funny that.

“Reheat the soup from yesterday.”

“He won’t, can’t, eat that.” Still not recovered fully from her stint in the Buried, Daisy was exerting herself to keep up with Basira’s quick and purposeful stride and when she stopped in the breakroom, bleak and empty despite the pair of them, she gulped down a glass of water.

“That’s not our fault.”

“Basira--”

“Jon chose this. He chose to feed off the trauma and fear of other people and they had no choice.” She wasn’t being fair. Anyone could see the strain being an avatar put on their human host. “But he had a choice, Daisy.” And now he, because of the pair of them, he has incentive.

“Just give me the key.” Basira rolled her eyes and Daisy narrowed hers.

“Fine, lock me in there with him then.” She made tea, used a mug for the soup and didn’t bother with adding a spoon to the tray with the napkins. Slipping a chilled bottle of water into her back pocket she glanced at Basira expectantly.

“It’s early.”

“And yet.”

Burning.

Gnawing.

Aching.

Jon swore he could feel the pieces of him being eaten away. If you won’t feed me, I’ll feed on you. Take all you’ve got until there’s nothing but monster left and the more he tried to resist, curl up around that spark of himself that was left, the more it hurt when the Eye lashed out in his mind, howling with hunger and rage and wrath at being denied.

It was dark here. Lonely here. Tim would laugh were he alive to see his old boss crying for the comfort of another living thing in this place. Someone, something to anchor him, console him, make him feel like any of this was worth it. That he wasn’t the biggest disappointment London had ever known.

Even if he didn’t deserve it.

Coward.

Beast.

Tormentor.

He wanted the Admiral.

A pang like a knife wound, he would know, ran him through the middle and he curled tightly into the jumper he’d found while rummaging in the early days when he had the strength to be bored. It hurt such that he found himself checking for the warmth and wetness of blood he was sure would be there.

Nothing.

Empty.

Cold.

He wanted Martin.

Daisy squeezed through the doorway and shut it with one hip, listening to the lock slide home before moving forward to set the tray on the desk and toss a spare shirt over the lamp. She hadn’t mentioned how easy it was for her to see in the dark to anyone yet. He was wrapped up in an unfamiliar jumper, shrouded in a familiar scent so faint she wasn’t sure he could smell it, and so oversized on him to the point he was nearly swallowed.

“Jon?” He never answered right away, taking at least a few moments to become aware of someone in the room with him since last week, but she warned him just the same. “Light’s coming on, Jon.” Settling beside the cot despite the pressure on her knees, she examined him in the dim. Despite the dark brown of his skin, he was pale and drawn. Diminished more each and every day without a statement. Withdrawal? Seemed more akin to starvation and she could relate. Daisy would need to discuss it with Basira. There wouldn’t be anything left if she let this continue.

“You’ve dropped a stone at least.” And was trembling. Gently she laid a hand against his neck, counting out his rapid pulse, taking note of his elevated temperature. “Feverish, too.” She mumbled. “Up you get.” It took some shoving and cajoling but she managed to get him propped against the wall with a mug of tea in his hands. Most days it was all he could stand. The sleeves of his stolen cable knit hung from wrists she could have held together in one hand.

“Ma’tin?” That was new. He’d recognized them up until now.

“No, but think of how cross he would be if you didn’t finish up your tea, hm?” She tapped the handle for emphasis but he didn’t seem to notice, blinking hard in an attempt to clear his vision.

“B’sira’s cross.”

“She is.” Cor, but he looked ill. “She’s not well pleased with your eating habits.” It was the wrong thing to say and immediately he folded in on himself, somehow becoming even smaller in a way she didn’t think was possible. “Hey, Jon, I didn’t mean--” It was eerily quiet, almost poetic. The tears scattering over his scarred, his marked hands, into the tea he gripped like a lifeline. “Alright, s’alright, Jon.” This wasn’t good for him. Locked down here all alone like an animal being taught a lesson it was helpless to learn. Awkwardly, Daisy patted his shoulder, wincing at the heat coming off him.

“Sorry.” He didn’t speak much anymore, too afraid of compelling either of them.

Too afraid.

Weren’t they all. But at least Daisy had Basira. At least Melanie had Georgie. At least Martin was sure he was making the correct decision for the rest of them.

“I brought soup? Think you could eat something?” Somehow he paled further, the sip he took from the cooling tea small and tentative and thankfully he kept it down, even finished close to half before swaying so abruptly she had to catch it out of his enervated fingers.

“Jon?”

“Jus,’ could I.” He swallowed and Daisy recognized the effort to avoid a compulsion and it looked so borderline painful she almost told him to go ahead and ask but he gained control of his wayward tongue, words clumsy and slow. “Lay down.” Licked chapped lips. “Please.” She helped him lest he just collapse there, going so far as to settle his head in her lap.

“There we go.” He turned his face into her soft shirt while she scrolled through a playlist, turning the Archers on low and ignoring the moisture steadily soaking her skin. She hadn’t been able to coax any water into him, instead using it to wet the napkins so she could provide some type of relief. Gently, she followed the slope and curve of his too prominent collarbones, swept up the column of his throat to brush over hollow cheeks and a damp forehead. With her other hand she pet back his salt and pepper hair, overgrown and long and filled with tangles she teased out with dexterous fingers. She let him rest like that for a while before the pain in her body forced her to move. Taking a swig from the water bottle after stretching, she knelt to offer him some, concerned when he didn’t shift. Patting his cheek elicited no reaction, she could hear the pulse in his overheated blood, thready and so fast.

“Jon, Jon, I need you to open your eyes for me.” No change, not even when she shook him hard by his boney shoulders, yelled into his face. She stumbled upwards. “Basira!” Legs on fire with pins and needles, Daisy held herself up by the door, pounding on it and calling out for Basira only to be met with silence. “Basira!” Shit. There was no reception down here. She glanced behind her. Jon hadn’t moved, just as slack as before, closed eyes wrung with black shadows, mouth slightly parted and chest barely moving with the effort of breathing. So caught up, Daisy nearly toppled forward when the door was removed and replaced with Basira, gun in hand, fear scent wafting off her in roiling waves.

“No! No, Jon’s ill. I can’t wake him.” She pushed past, “I’m getting a statement.” Basira held her shoulder fast.

“Maybe this is a good thing?”

“What?” Daisy all but shouted, pawing at Basira for the keys.

“Wait, wait. He can’t hurt people like this, take statements, maybe can’t even hover around in victims’ dreams. The Beholding will keep him alive, right?” Daisy was shell shocked into stillness and couldn’t even find anything to be angry about, not really. Basira had a point. Maybe this would be easier on all of them, Jon included. But just as quickly the thought passed as she remembered him crawling into a coffin for her after having the Boneturner rip pieces out of him for nothing.

“Well I don’t want to test it!” Her partner was currently stronger than she was. If Basira didn’t want to give up the keys there was no way to make her. “Please.”

“Daisy.”

“I get it, I know. But he’s. Our friend is still in there, Basira.” Frustration made her eyes prickle with tears she refused to let fall. “He’s tried so hard to do as we asked. Are we really going to abandon him completely because it’s convenient?” She could see the shift in Basira’s face and knew she was victorious.

“He wanted this. He wanted to be stopped.”

“I know.”

“One.”

“Thank you.”

“A short one. Wait here.”

The Dark was so heavy. Pressing in all around him, smothering, suffocating, strangling him. And he hurt. He was so hungry he hurt deep, deep, deep inside. Beyond the place where his ribs once were. Could he die like this? Would his god allow it?

What else was left to take?

The change was so slight he almost didn’t notice at first, almost didn’t hear. But the Eye did, searching, thirsting thing, hungrier than he could ever be for Knowing. And even this hurt, was agony after so long being deprived and if Jon were stronger, he’d be afraid of what would happen after. StabburnriptearremovecutslashwoundscarhealHURTKNOW

“Back with me?”

Who.

His eyes were open, staring, wide.

“Jon?”

His head in someone’s lap. Martin’s jumper, warm, safe, soft. Martin. Martin.

“I’ll keep going then, shall I?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just let the words come slowly, evenly, like a morphine drip steadily taking the edge off the worst of it all with each and every glorious syllable.

Unbidden, he cried for even that slight bit of relief. Sharp, stabbing, harsh, now dulled as the Eye turned its attentions from him to the statement Daisy, Daisy was reading. The pounding agony of his head retreated enough to think. To notice her hand stroking his hair, wiping away the tears he couldn’t seem to stop until long after she stopped speaking. Still cradling him, still touching him carefully like he might break under the weight of her palm.

“Jon?” He felt drugged. The larger share of the throbbing discomfort distanced while the last of the latent fear was devoured. Somehow, he dredged up a smile, watery and wavering. Somewhere in the room a tape recorder switched itself off.

“Daisy.” She sighed, the tension slipping out of her bones, and set aside the statement to lay the backs of her fingers along his skin.

“Fever’s down. That’s a relief.” Despite himself, Jon was exhausted, could already feel the drowsiness chipping away at his fear of sleep. When his eyes opened he realized he hadn’t been aware they’d closed in the first place. His head was on the pillow, a warm weight lined his side and he tipped just far enough to see when an arm slung itself over his skinny waist. “Rest, Jon. M’not going anywhere quite yet.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724659

#the magnus archives #tma #jon sims #jonathan simms #daisy tonner #basira hussain #Hurt/comfort #fever #sickfic #my interests are like the tides #I'm so sorry #tma fanfic

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fictional-semantics · 4 years

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“Iᖴ TᕼᗴIᖇ ᒪIᐯᗴᔕ ᗩᖇᗴ Iᑎ Oᑌᖇ ᕼᗩᑎᗪᔕ, Tᕼᗴᑎ ᗯᗴ’ᖇᗴ ᗩᒪᒪ ᔕᑕᖇᗴᗯᗴᗪ.”

Name: Mikoyan “Elias” Shigi Qutuqu

Age: 18

Height: 6′0″

Abilities: Tracking magic, protective magic, extensive knowledge of ancient runes, archery, judo, strategy, magic tattoo, wind control

Drawbacks and Weaknesses: PTSD, trust issues, cold and distant, a bit too snarky, can be a bit rude, lets his emotions blind him, gets frustrated easily, and is deaf in one ear

Appearance: Short black, wavy borderline curly hair, light brown skin, onyx eyes, lean and muscular physique. Is rather tall but not the tallest guy around. Has beauty marks dotted on his arms. Has the tattoo of a wolf on his wrist.

Personality: Grumpy, sarcastic, snarky, distant, detached, seemingly emotionless, Will Fight You, edgy, snarky, rude, “all around bad boy”, compassionate when he wants to be, motivating, dedicated.

Fun Facts: Likes to paint and draw in his spare time, listens to a lot of rock and roll music, loves hiking, was a champion speed chess player, top student in ancient languages, plays soccer, actually cares a lot, is considered a heart throb, and he really likes dumplings.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The cave shook with his anger, his anguish, his raw emotion. Power flooded from his hands, scorching the air in front of him. “How dare you?” Elias shouted.

Sarian’s face twisted into a snarl, his eyes shifting to a glowing, sickening red. The voice that came out wasn’t his, but raspy and demonic.

“I may not be your brother, little one, but you’ll be seeing him soon enough. Die!”

In a blur of motion, he lunged for Elias’s throat. Rage consumed his senses, and raw instinct took over his body. He flung his arms in front of him and raised magic to his vocal chords.

“Amrapndel!” He shouted. The air in front of him solidified, and the evil version of his older brother was sent smashing into the cave wall, shaking the rock around them. Snarling, the demon rose and flicked his wrists.

Hundreds of sharp, gleaming needles flew towards him, their ends shining silver, promising death.

Somehow, death didn’t scare him. Losing to this monster did.

I won’t lose.

Elias slammed his hands into the ground beneath him, pushing all his emotion into the rock. The earth responded, rising up to protect its caller. The needles collided with the rock and stuck there, impaling themselves deep in the granite.

The wolf tattoo upon his arm opened its jaws, unleashing a powerful howl that reverberated through the cavern. Elias’s veins flooded with power, a glowing green need to destroy. Black ink rose from his tattooed skin, surrounding him in a cloud of black rage.

He was done with this.

“How is it that you see through my illusion?!” The demon growled at him as he stalked out from behind his stone wall.

“Because,” Elias’s voice was cold, filled with hate and anger. “I’m not Mikoyan anymore. And Sarian,” he lifted his wrist in the air, flashing his tattoo. “Lives within me!”

The black mist around him howled with hunger before the overwhelming blast was released. The demon was blown off of his feet and against the stone wall. His crumpled form was pinned in place, helpless. Elias stalked toward him, slowly, cruelly savoring the moment.

I’m not weak.

And I never will be. Never again.

“Please!” The demon begged, struggling to move. “Mercy! I can’t go back to the Plane! I just can’t!”

Elias’s face didn’t budge. Nor did his intent. “You should have thought of that before insulting my brother’s memory.”

The black wind swirled around them, biting and clawing at his enemy. It was an equivalent to the knives in Elias’s heart. Blood gushed from the creature to the cave floor.

“Besides, there’s no use begging for something I don’t have. Not for creatures like you. Now...” he paused, pushing all of his intent, every moment filled with anguish, hate, rage, and sadness to come to the surface of his mind until he felt nothing, numbed by pain.

He pushed it all into one, simple word, the pure venom and magic burning his lips.

“Die.”

Taglist: @imintheunderworld @carnationwrites @writerfae @rhyseoshaughnessy @jfictitional @alasyorickimagraveobber @musicofglassandwords @inherentlywritten @semblanche @sarahmariaria @andiwriteunderthemoon @kimblewrites @captainrynna

please let me know to be added!

#wip: for the lost #character intro #wip moodboard #character moodboard #c: elias shigu qutuqu #original writing #writing #creative writing #fantasy #dark fantasy #writeblr #excerpt #writeblr community #my wips

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whumpfish · 5 years

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“Don’t Let Them See You Cry” for Bad Things Happen Bingo

requested, with shame theme, by @i-blame-my-love-of-whump-on-ryan, who I would honestly really like to thank for inspiring me to challenge myself like this. It’s grown into the beginnings of a whole story arc for this character, and one I would definitely not have come up with just sitting around.

Avedis Risinger is an OC of mine. For the purposes of this exercise, she’s ended up captured on her forces’ raid on the prison colony she was born in... and is now under the direct responsibility of the same warden’s wife who tortured her as a girl. (This is the tail end of what ended up being quite a long sequence; Ave is borderline obsessed with not appearing weak in front of others and took a while to break.)

---

"I gather you still have a child's inclination to play pretend," Ma’am said in a light, casual voice that Avedis knew was anything but. "If you insist…"

She crossed the room to pick up Avedis's jacket, then returned to stand in front of her. Avedis tried to seem apathetic. So after forcing her to strip in front of that damned camera she was going to--what? Aggressively re-dress her, two dislocated shoulders and all? It would hurt, yes, but in a way she was fairly confident she could manage.

"Fair warning," she told Ma'am, unable to hold back the remark though blood from her bitten lip showed at the corner of the mocking half-smile, "I've gotten dressed in worse shape than this."

"Dressed?" Ma'am echoed, eyebrows arched in mock surprise. "No, no! You told me at the beginning of this little interview that you didn't need a uniform to be real military officer, to be someone with a modicum of dignity. And since we're indulging that fantasy for the moment, I'll be taking you at your word."

She searched the front of the uniform jacket, humming lightly, then stopped. "Ah! Your pretend name. A. Risinger." She worked the nameplate free, flicking the pin open. "And this goes… here, I believe."

Avedis would tell herself later that disbelief, out of everything, should not have been her reaction then. That it was stupid not to connect the old hatpin routine and this, and brace for it. At least enough not to yelp in surprise, let alone pain, when the needle threaded the skin between her collarbone and her right breast.

It exited once it had run its full length, and Ma'am fastened it. Ma'am freed the fleet commander wings next, holding the pin up between them.

"What does this mean, in your pretend army?"

Avedis glared back at her, swallowing back the blood still trailing from the cut in her lip. "It means people do what I say because they respect me. Not because I beat it out of them."

The pin went in deeper, rougher this time. Avedis had to force herself not to bite her lip again. She hadn't had that impulse in so long. She wanted to believe it didn't mean anything that it was resurfacing now. She sucked a breath in through clenched teeth, but didn't make a sound.

Ma'am closed the pin. Her hand moved up to the collar, and the eight-pointed stars on the lapels. "And this must be your pretend rank… you wanted to make-believe that you are a… what, again? Airship captain?" She pulled the right one free and held it to the side of Avedis's neck.

Avedis flinched, and the burning sensation at the bridge of her nose returned, warning of tears on the way. A reaction she couldn't control, fueled by frustration and anger at a reaction she couldn't control.

Happy with the reaction, Ma'am lowered her hand slightly, and impaled the insignia on the skin over her collarbone instead. "There," she said. "Less messy down here."

You're not hurting me, I'm just mad!

She used to scream it over and over when she'd started crying in here, trying to redefine her tears, take the weakness out of them. There was a flood of other memories threatening to roll in behind the sobbing screams of her younger self, and she leaned into those newly resurfaced words like a barricade.

The left lapel pin went in.

"You're not hurting me." She only mouthed the words at first, almost without realizing it. "You're not hurting me."

Ma'am turned the uniform jacket over in her hands, searching for more sharp elements, then lowered it, seeming disappointed. "The rest is embroidered, unfortunately… although that's a thought! I might find one of the other convict offspring to help me stitch these on. We could make another film for your friends back home. Well, your pretend home, that is."

She looked down, watching the progress of the progress of the four trails of red down her chest. Tiny wounds, really, she told herself, trying to reason away the shame and despair welling in her. They’d itch and ache like piercings will, but she'd be all right. As long as they weren't tears. "You're not hurting me," she mouthed again.

"That's for later, though. I will say, no convict trash ever escaped for more than a few weeks without getting killed. I suppose you should be commended for the record you've set." She unfastened the brooch below the collar of her dress. She drove the pin into her beside her name and wings and closed the clasp. Avedis choked back another yelp as she felt it glance off the bone before the pin was angled up again to exit. "I hereby award you the Order of Inescapable Reality."

"...not hurting me, you're not…" Avedis's lips moved slightly, softly, constantly now. She tried to tell herself this didn't mean anything, that it couldn't, shouldn't affect her this way. That it was stupid and cheap and tawdry and she was above it. But that inner voice seemed far away, and crushingly irrelevant.

"Airship captains have captain's chairs, don't they? Let's see if you remember this one." Ma'am dragged a chair over.

She remembered the ankle restraints on the legs as they were fastened, memory rushing back in response to sensation, and she clamped down on the thought, trying to stop it there. She didn't resist when chain of the collar around her neck was unhooked from the ceiling and reattached to the chair back, she just sat down, unprompted. Dislocated joints and part of a chair in between you and any attempt you made at fighting back. The illusion of possible resistance had probably always been part of the torment. Avedis kept her head bowed. It was a trick she'd learned over grave injuries and friends' funerals: if you looked straight down, tears fell without touching your face, leaving no evidence.

"You're not hurting me." It had grown to a whisper. She barely noticed. “You’re not hurting me...”

Ma'am laughed. "You do love to pretend, don't you?"

#bthb #bad things happen bingo #whump #whump prompt #whump fic #prompt filled #my card

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robalchemy · 5 years

Text

Coming Out Of The Empath Closet

Like most of these posts, I’m never really sure where to begin or how to lead in...But the title says it all; I’m an empath. So why write a blog post about this? Why make it public? Why make it a big deal? why even share it at all? Well, that last question is the biggest one I’ve been faced with most of my life. Why WOULD I share this about myself in such a close minded world? Why would anyone dare to allow the deepest parts of them out for all the world to see? It’s absolute insanity in our self-centered, closed minded, drive-through, fearful, dogmatic culture we call the western world in 2019. And I’m JUST bringing this out at the age of 35, so could you imagine trying to explain this to the school psychologists in the early 90′s? That would surely have been a one-way ticket to ALL the anti-psychotic drugs! Okay, so there’s a LOT to unpack here, so let’s just take it one spoonful at a time, yes? My biggest reason for bringing this aspect of myself out into the open is primarily for anyone else who’s in the same boat as me, but for a multitude of reasons, is perhaps conflicted by it. And believe me, I’ve been through ALL of these barriers time and time again. You never know what anyone will think. And this concept of normality and fitting in has been just pounded into us so hard for so long. Maybe you’re worried that your friends or family will think you’re crazy. Maybe you’re beginning to question your own sanity. Maybe people have TOLD you you’re crazy. Maybe people have put you down for it. Maybe people have made you feel like the absolute dumbest piece of shit that the face of the earth has ever seen for being so fake and ridiculous. Maybe religious people in your life want you to believe you’re all up in the devil. Maybe people have said it’s just a phase. Or that you’re fishing for attention. I’ve been to all of these places more times than I could recall.

And I WANT to tell you that this is all somehow not true, not real. I WANT to tell you that. But unfortunately, people’s judgments are VERY real, whether we like it or not. And so many of us can FEEL these judgments in so many ways. For me, I feel the intention other people have in conversation. I (more often than not) already know what their point is going to be before they’ve even finished the first sentence. I know when someone is lying to me. I know when someone’s trying to manipulate me. I even physically feel when someone is THINKING about me. (It feels like an extreme hot flash running up and down my spine and in my head.) So yes, judgement has, does and will happen. We can’t change that, nor is it our duty or right to change ANYONE. That’s not what any of us are here to do. So what should we do about both negative reactions or even just FEAR of negative reactions? Not a damn. Freaking. Thing. Which brings me to my second point of why I’m bringing this up: If we can’t be honest and true to ourselves, what CAN we be honest and true to? The truth here is that we all have the things and characteristics that make us US in this life. Would you be ashamed that maybe you have brown eyes? Would you shame someone else for liking ice cream? Of course not, it’s absolutely absurd! And these abilities that in truth, EVERYONE has - Are no different. These are just other characteristics of the way we are that are immutable. We can’t change them. We can’t delete them. So why not embrace them? That’s a question that would have made me VERY nervous even just months ago. In short, this is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been, since childhood. And it’s been a major factor in leading a VERY misunderstood life. Personally, I was VERY lucky to grow up in a family that was very open minded to these things. It’s not like I was identified as an empath and knew I was empathic when I was a kid. Back in the 90′s, that term was akin to ‘Witchcraft’ and late night infomercials for “JoJo’s Psychic Alliance Hotline for $5 a minute”. My Mom was strongly empathic, my sister is probably the strongest empath of any of us, and my Dad even developed some of his abilities later on in life, as well. (Although I’m probably closest with my Brother, but I really have no idea where he stands with any of this, and that’s completely okay too.) Growing up, my Mom always just described me as being very sensitive. And that really IS a very apt description. But she knew what I had from day one, whether she shared it with anyone or not. I’m not sure what my sister recognized in me at that time, but still, in some ways she could read me better than anyone. I also grew up OBSESSIVELY creative. And I haven’t changed even a little bit. This is a very common trait among empaths of all varieties - I don’t yet fully understand why, but somehow it also seems very fitting. As a creative soul, I can see possibilities that nobody else can. I can process certain kinds of abstract concepts intuitively and instantly. I can visualize almost to the level of hallucination, that’s how I always knew where to put the lines when I’m drawing. So even aside from all this empathic stuff, my brain was never wired “normally” to begin with. And growing up - The schools, psychologists and so many teachers saw this and insisted to my parents that something was wrong with me. I had to be “fixed” because back in those days, not fitting into the same box as everyone else was BAD. This was just the tip of the iceberg for a central theme in this life for me. So just for fun, I’d like to get into the specifics of some of the things I experience that maybe not EVERYONE else does. Since childhood, my main “odd” experience is that I feel the emotions and intentions of either those immediately around me, those I observe or those I interact with. This is actually the trickiest part of it all for me, because for decades, I had no idea that many of the things I was feeling weren’t mine. Can you imagine how screwed up that makes a person feel? The thing that made me aware and able to discern which emotions were and weren’t mine was...Well, it was freaking OBVIOUS once I began opening up to new perspectives. I knew I wasn’t perceiving the world incorrectly, yet my emotional reactions often did not remotely suit the circumstances I was in. I was just so used to it that it was just a part of life for me, and second guessing my own thoughts became normal. This caused me to repress it for so many years, but it never went away. It just kept getting more and more pushed down and compact over my lifetime until it reached critical mass and EVERYTHING I’d built up over this life began exploding out of me since it had nowhere else to go. I experienced this as chronic, severe long term depression and anxiety in recent years. That’s a long story unto itself that I’d rather not go too deep into, but the point is: Being THAT unhealthy and repressed nearly cost me my life. I became a borderline alcoholic, because that was the only way I knew to feel better. I also became obese. (Fun fact, in the last year, I’ve dropped ALL that weight!) And many times, I was borderline suicidal. I even went through several psychologists who were at a complete loss and fired me as a client because they couldn’t help me. Friends, THIS is what happens when we fall out of alignment with ourselves. This is why being true to ourselves goes FAR beyond a warm fuzzy sentiment. Now imagine being able to feel the intentions and emotions of anyone you direct your attention toward or interact with. Even through a screen. Now take a look around at the world we’re living in right now. It’s so disturbing and unspeakable to me that I don’t even want to go into examples, because even just tuning into the very concept of these negative emotions hits me so hard that I can feel it physically. And as much as I hate to say it, I live in Canada’s Arkansas. The part of the country I live in is Canada’s undisputed capital of bigotry, racism, xenophobia, selfishness and just fear driven hate in general. And I’ve lived here for 35 years. Just do the math on that and maybe you can begin to see how challenging it can really be just EXISTING as a person with empathic abilities. Now, the root word of ‘empathy’ is - You guessed it! So for me, this also goes the other way. When I see the VICTIMS of all this hate, I feel it exactly as they do. En masse. I can’t even begin to emphasize how strongly I feel it, and how much it hurts beyond what physical pain can offer. Because you can relieve physical pain sometimes, yes? This has created for me the challenge of even HAVING any faith or good will towards humanity when I can FEEL what we do to each other every minute of every day. Yet, in spite of all this - I’ve lived my life with an inexplicable and very deep sense of compassion and wanting to HELP this world, in spite of knowing what it’s capable of and the things we do to each other without so much as a second thought. I can’t even stomach how anyone can exist that way. On the flip side, I don’t come across genuinely highly positive people very often, but when I do - OMG WHAT A FREAKING RUSH!!!! I’ve never done cocaine, but that’s what I imagine it must feel like. Occasionally, I come across people who truly have the highest of intentions and hearts full of love and good humor. I feel it as soon as they approach me. When this happens, I get a very light headed rush, the world starts to look REALLY bright or “bleached” and the internal feeling is like a combination of excited butterflies in the stomach, an absolutely ELECTRIC surge throughout my entire body, very warm pins & needles that give me goosebumps, and I just instantly want to take this person, clone them 30 or 40 times and go to a party with only them. It is the starkest contrast I could imagine. So that’s the basic version. If we want to go even DEEPER into this rabbit hole, I would only tell you about the most recent MONTHS of my life. I can’t even begin to describe the work I’ve been doing on myself and where its taken me. (I will in the near future...) But in short, I’ve begun to accept, embrace and develop these parts of me. Well actually, they’ve kind of been developing themselves. So before, I was basically limited to the definition of a physical and emotional empath. In recent months however, I’ve been cracked so wide open that I’ve been experiencing things that I had no idea my mind was even CAPABLE of perceiving. To name just a couple - The degree of the sensitivities I’ve always had have increased ten fold. If I’m chatting with someone online, I can feel them to the point of their pulse. This is not an exaggeration. I’m willing to bet that some of my friends who are reading this right now are friends that I’ve been chatting with on messenger, and I’ve said something like “Okay, let’s change the topic because I just felt your heart rate spike and your adrenaline kick in”. (I actually feel much more than that, but I still want my friends to TALK to me, so I’ll leave it there for now!) I can feel the intentions and intensity of the energy of people around me in traffic. This tends to be not so much emotional, but rather I feel a spectrum of the quality of people’s energy from SHARP to GENTLE. Those are honestly the best words I can find. Not strong and weak, intense and mellow, but sharp and gentle. Another interesting thing I’ve noticed of late, is people will just randomly start pouring their hearts out to me. Perfect strangers, it can be just helping a customer at work or paying for gas at 7-11; And 2 sentences in, they begin rattling off their entire freaking life story. People give me EVERYTHING. Constantly. This used to happen occasionally, but in recent months, it’s been almost every day that I’m in public, often multiple times a day. This goes beyond just chatty people, it’s flat out rigorous. For me, this is kind of a trap, because once it starts - I can’t get people to stop even if I shout at them to shut up. (Not that I do, that one’s just an allusion.) I don’t understand exactly why this happens, but I have a faint idea that some part of people, probably subconsciously - Feel my receptivity and take it as an invitation to pour out everything they’re holding in. I’ve always been uncomfortable in large crowds. Hell, you don’t have to be even remotely empathic for this! Needless to say, this has also been taken to the extreme. But on the flip side, I can also feel nature every bit as strongly. Being in nature has become my drug in recent months. It takes absolutely everything in me that’s heavy, and replaces it with the most merciful rejuvenation and love that I think I’ve ever felt in this plane of existence. It’s like being beaten up at school by bullies all day, then going home and just crying in your Mom’s arms - It’s something I can’t even come close to putting into words. It’s sentient, and it feels me as I feel it. It’s beyond catharsis, it’s beyond being understood. That’s truly as close as I can get to describing it, I literally don’t have words for it. When I go walking in the ravine by my house, it feels like the trees are my oldest friends who know me better than I know myself. And they know exactly what I need and how I need it. 20 minutes among the trees does more for me than anything any human has ever been able to make me feel, with the sole exception of my wife. It’s unconditional mercy. And to think, I used to think this kind of stuff was for tree huggers...Well, maybe try actually hugging a tree, and see where that takes you! Like I said, there’s a LOT to unpack here, and I’ve only started to scratch the surface. But I can only type so much in one sitting, so I’m going to leave this post as it is here, save for a couple closing words for anyone who resonates with this... Again, the point here isn’t to show off these things or claim that I have something others don’t - We ALL have the exact same abilities to the exact same potential extent. Some of us are simply at different points along our own journey and evolution, there’s no rank to this or any sort of being above, below, ahead of or behind anyone else. We’re just all at different points of our own unique path, and no two among the approximately 8 billion people currently on this planet are the same. So truly, there’s no pissing contest here, so please don’t interpret it that way. The point is to simply SHARE for a couple purposes: To give anyone out there going through similar experiences validation and hopefully a bit of courage to embrace this aspect of their path rather than fear it, be ashamed of it or resent it. The second point is that in sharing this, I’m simply taking my own step towards being as authentic as I can be. This is simply who I am, it’s who I’ve always been. We can’t deny our truest nature and we should never be ashamed of it, and in putting this out there, I’m being true to myself so that hopefully others can be inspired to be true to themselves. Thankyou for helping me realize more of my own personal truth in sharing this with you!

#empath #empathy #intuition #intuitive #spiritual #spirituality #spiritualawakening #spiritualjourney

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noraarchontis · 5 years

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I Don’t Love You

Chapter 4: Desire

Link: AO3 | FF

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Her blood boiled when she saw her sect leader’s pale face in the arms of Zewu-jun. She didn’t know what was going but by the troubled look in the noble cultivator’s face, it was obviously something that Jiang Wanyin did. Wen Qing had no doubt about it.

The door to the outer chamber was opened wide as Lan Xichen carried the man in purple robes in his arms. Wen Qing opened the doors to the inner chamber and let Lan Xichen laid Jiang Wanyin down on the bed. She checked Wanyin’s pulse immediately. The pulse was lower than normal but stable; the blood circulation was slow with signs of poisoning.

She needed to check about it all with Lan Xichen but for now, she looked at him and said:

“Tell the servants to call my brother and bring all the herbs with him. I need him now!”

Lan Xichen nodded and walked out to tell the servants.

Wen Qing opened the outer robes that had been constricting her sect leader’s body. She wiped him from all the sweat he was accumulating and opened her case filled with long hair-like needles and pins. She started with three long pins placed on the sect leader’s stomach, a few shorter ones on the chest and the arms.

Everything was placed in its position. She closed her wooden case and debated on placing a needle on the sect leader’s forehead to keep him asleep but that would be reckless. Since she didn’t know what actually happened, it wasn’t a risk worth taking when it came to Jiang Wanyin.

When Lan Xichen returned to the room, Wen Qing told him to sit down and asked him:

“What happened? I didn’t remember he was looking this pale in the afternoon.”

It didn’t sound like a question; she tried to mask the annoyance she had inside, yet it did nothing to help. The man in front of her should already know that she wasn’t annoyed at him, but at the idiot who was unconscious and lying on the bed.

The idiot that Lan Xichen loved.

“It was poisoning,” his voice was clear. “He drank the suppressant after drinking alcohol, and it didn’t go well with him.”

Wen Qing clicked her tongue, making a tch noise as the irritation in her heart grew. This wasn’t the first time it happened, but she didn’t know since when did this man begin relying on alcohol for sleep.

“Did he throw up?”

Her eyes glanced at Lan Xichen then returned to her sect leader.

“No, he would’ve felt better if he could get it out of his system.”

Wen Qing sighed and pressed her fingers between her eyebrows. The frown was getting deeper but it slowly disappeared when she saw the noble cultivator looking at Jiang Wanyin with such gentle eyes. She failed to see what Lan Xichen saw in him that made him love the stupid and reckless sect leader. Yet, it was probably the same thing that made her unable to ignore the sect leader too. No matter how much problems he created for himself, health-wise.

“What was his initial condition and why did you give him your spiritual energy?”

Lan Xichen looked at the lady physician and turned his eyes away again when he had learned the look in her expression. Though she didn’t want to admit it, physician Wen Qing was worried, borderline panicking. The calm in her face was a calmness of a physician that had seen worse in her life and knew what the priority was first.

“Wanyin’s body was cold, so I transferred some of my spiritual energy to keep him warm. His heartbeat was irregular but seemed to have steadied over the time,” he paused and placed his hand on the open palm. Jiang Wanyin’s hand was damp but wasn’t as sweaty like before.

“It’s probably better to get the toxin out of his system as soon as possible.”

Wen Qing clicked her tongue when she heard that. She knew what she should do and how she should handle it. There shouldn’t be any worry in that field.

“How did you know the toxin was formed because of the mix?” Wen Qing asked; it almost sounded like an interrogation.

“The small paper in his hand was crushed. I can only assume that he was taking it recently,” Lan Xichen explained. From the look in the physician’s face, he had passed all the questioning she had.

The lady physician sighed when Zewu-jun explained everything she asked clearly. She didn’t have to worry as much if Lan Xichen was the one Jiang Wanyin chose to be his partner, but she knew the man himself hadn’t made any decision about that. The strong belief Jiang Wanyin held about Lan Xichen and the past Lianfang-zun was almost ridiculous to her, yet she couldn’t hold it against him. If it was true, she couldn’t do anything else except support whatever decision her sect leader decided.

A sigh escaped her mouth as the door opened and showed her little brother’s face entering in. Wen Ning carried a big wood case with him and placed it on the floor before greeting his sister and Zewu-jun.

“Sister, Zewu-jun…” Wen Ning bowed then looked at the sect leader Jiang on the bed, unmoving.

The sister sighed and walked toward her brother, already giving all the symptoms from her observation and the one Lan Xichen told her. It was almost like a test for Wen Ning, but he had become accustomed to this over time.

While the two siblings were doing their things, Lan Xichen moved his seat closer to the bed. He held Jiang Wanyin’s hand and kept transferring his spiritual power to his beloved. The worry in his heart ceased when he noticed Wanyin’s body was getting warmer as he kept transferring his energy. Lan Xichen hoped that he would wake up soon, so they could talk about it.

It didn’t take long for Wen Ning to grind all the herbs he needed for the sick sect leader. When he turned around, he saw how tenderly and lovingly sect leader Lan was holding sect leader Jiang’s hand. He blushed when Zewu-jun caught him staring. He brought the bowl of mixed herbs and placed it on the table near the bed. He began taking out the needles and pins, and put them inside a small bowl to be tossed later.

The older sister and Zewu-jun were watching him the whole time, and it made him a little self-conscious. He tried to ignore it as much as he could and when he was done collecting all the needles, he looked at his older sister with a nod.

“We need to wash him, so if you don’t mind stepping out for a while,” Wen Qing was looking at Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen smiled and stood up, saying:

“It might be difficult to move him around, I can help.”

She didn’t answer immediately; instead, she kept looking at Lan Xichen for a good while before nodding and hummed her answer. Zewu-jun’s help wasn’t something she needed since they had done this many times before, Jiang Wanyin’s weight wasn’t something new anymore to them. However, the anxious look in his eyes told her something else. It told her of how much he actually cared for the person he loved to the point of breaking his sect’s rules.

Yes, she was born and raised as a Wen but didn’t mean she didn’t know about other sect’s rules. Wen Qing had heard many times about Gusu Lan Sect’s rules and their motto of being righteous. The significance behind the forehead ribbon was known to almost all sects, and that included her and Wen Ning as well. Now, she wondered if this was Lan Xichen’s way of showing his passion and love toward the one he loved, even breaking if it meant breaking the rules he held dear in his heart.

Just how many rules had Lan Xichen broken because of Jiang Wanyin?

Wen Qing moved from her spot and took the basin filled water with some clean cloths. She placed it on a different table and directed Lan Xichen to get the unconscious man to sit, so they could open and change his clothes. Wen Ning scrambled to get the clean inner robe from the wooden wardrobe, one just enough to give warmth to the sect leader’s body.

Lan Xichen did exactly what the physician told him to let Jiang Wanyin leaned on his shoulder and untie the white inner robe. After he was done untying and undressing, he grabbed the wet cloth from Wen Ning’s hand and began wiping him clean. His eyes turned wide when he saw the long scar across his beloved’s chest. It wasn’t the same scar as the ones he saw on Wanyin’s back; this one felt painful just from the look of it. His hand moved and felt the raised skin against the wet cloth; he wiped it gently like it was a fresh scar still trying to heal.

The older sister saw everything in the cultivator’s face, the changing expressions and the gentleness in his hand. The warmth in those dark golden eyes as he watched for the man in his arms and the love he was pouring in every movement of his hand. It hurt how Jiang Wanyin chose not to believe in this.

It hurt because she knew just how much Lan Xichen loved Jiang Wanyin, and he tried to show it all but to no avail. Jiang Wanyin was too stubborn to accept the fact that he was and could be loved by someone else.

Too stubborn to accept the fact that he deserved to love and to be loved.

Lan Xichen’s hand moved and held the body against his arm as he tried to clean Jiang Wanyin’s back. Another fresh cloth was given to him and he tenderly mapped out all the scars on the man’s back. A few small scars with other long ones were carved on the skin and he felt it, all of them as he wiped them off. The red marks he saw this morning had turned into a darker shade of blue, and all he could do was quietly rub them off as if trying to take it off from his beloved’s pale skin. He tried his best to repress his other negative feelings.

Once he was done, Wen Ning gave him a dry cloth to dry their sect leader. Lan Xichen did what he was told and dry the man he loved slowly like he was trying to find a connection between all the scars and small marks.

Silence filled the air the whole time he was doing it. His careful yet elegant movements, and the looks on his face, he was giving too much away but what else could he do? This was the man he loved.

Jiang Wanyin was the person he loved. And, the siblings knew that much about him.

A long and deep breath escaped his mouth quietly as he dressed the man in his arms with a night robe. Lan Xichen raised the right arm and slid the robe in, and he did the same with the other one, covering all the scars on Jiang Wanyin’s back for none to see. His eyes turned to the lady physician and she nodded, giving him a confirmation before he laid down the man back on the bed.

Wen Ning took a handful of herbs into his hand before rubbing them onto the sect leader’s chest and abdomen. The movement of his hand was careful as Zewu-jun kept an eye on him. He looked at his sister once he was done and moved away.

“Hold him up,” Wen Qing said to Lan Xichen who was still by the bedside. “We need him to drink this too.”

Lan Xichen nodded and carefully lifted Jiang Wanyin up. The cup was pressed against the lips and slowly it was gone. He held him there for a moment, wiping the soft lips with a smaller cloth before lying him back on the bed. He stood still by the bedside, looking at the siblings and wondering what else he needed to do.

“We’ll let him rest for now. You should rest too, Zewu-jun, I’ll keep an eye on him,” said Wen Qing as she watched her younger brother took care of his herbs and equipment.

He hummed and looked at the person he loved. The paleness in Wanyin’s face slowly fading in exchange for a healthier color. The frown between his eyebrows was no longer there, leaving him with a peaceful look as he slept. Yet, all these didn’t convince him enough to leave him alone.

Lan Xichen knew that it would be better for him to leave and let the lady physician took care of him but he couldn’t. No matter how much his reasonings told him to leave, he didn’t move. He wanted to stay there where he could see his beloved with his own eyes and believe that he was alright.

Jiang Wanyin was alright and safe from the harm’s way.

“Allow me to stay, Lady Wen Qing,” he asked. His long fingers brushed against the hair that was covering his beloved’s face. “I will call you when something happens.”

Her hand froze and the bowl filled with needles almost fell if Wen Ning didn’t grab it on time. She wasn’t expecting anything for sect leader Lan to say something like that. It took her a while to realize the bowl in her hand was gone and she was staring blankly at her little brother. The younger brother smiled and took care of the needles.

Wen Ning said his greetings to his sister and Zewu-jun before walking out to give some space for the two to talk. He could sense that it was something important and he wasn’t needed there anymore.

“Why would you want to do that, Xichen?”

Wen Qing asked and heard the door closed with a quiet thud. There were only the three of them in the room now: two sober-minded people and one knocked out on the bed.

The question made him smile because he had heard it many times today. The reason why he was doing what he did for this man.

“Do you always have to question my reasoning, physician Wen Qing?”

There was no malice in his words and she understood that. She had been asking him all day with all the ‘why’ behind his actions, and there should come a point where it ended. Perhaps those whys would end here when she really knew the intention behind this person.

“It’s easy to mark him when he’s unconscious,” the physician explained; her eyes looking at the sleeping man. “I can see that you love him as a future partner and an alpha. Can I trust that you won’t force your way in?”

The question was valid in her stance. It was a question about Jiang Wanyin’s safety, something that should not be taken lightly especially for her. What she told him never passed his mind, not for a second. He loved him but he wanted to mark him when Wanyin himself was conscious of his decision.

What Lan Xichen wanted from Jiang Wanyin was his consent and approval. He wanted it all to come under no pressure from anyone else, only from the man himself. He wanted Wanyin to know that he was loved and could be loved by someone despite all his strengths and weaknesses.

“No, who am I to dare do such thing to Wanyin, physician Wen Qing,” his voice was calm and soothing.

It was never in his intention to hurt Jiang Wanyin. They both had been through pain enough for someone they love.

Wen Qing smiled, knowing that every word that came out from Lan Xichen’s mouth could be trusted by her. It saddened her knowing how painful these two young birds’ love story turned out to be like this. Yet, she knew the pain and trauma inside her sect leader’s heart was something he had to deal before he could accept someone else’s love. She wanted to apologize, bowed down to Jiang Wanyin’s feet and apologized for everything her clan did to him, but she knew it wasn’t something that he wanted. Besides, it wouldn’t bring back his family.

So, all she could do was to look after him like a family. Or, like a replacement of his past family…

“I believe you,” she finally replied; it felt like she could finally breathe again after holding it for a while. “Go and see your kids before their night-hunts. They’re probably wondering why this idiot sect leader isn’t there, and tell them to take care of the kids.”

Her words were clear-cut, and he nodded in agreement.

“The two of them are no longer kids, Lady Physician.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

“Wangji isn’t but Wuxian is still one. Probably getting worse as we speak,” Wen Qing glared at him. “Go! And come back before I need to leave.”

Lan Xichen covered his quiet yet polite giggles and excused himself, leaving Wen Qing by herself to look after Jiang Wanyin for a moment.

Wen Qing sighed after she heard the door closed and looked at the sleeping sect leader. Jiang Wanyin’s face was no longer ashen pale but he would be once he woke up again. He still needed to get the toxin out of his body and it might be rough for him. The new dose she gave to him might need to be replaced for a while, she didn’t need to see another stupidity like this in the future. She would give him the previous dose of suppressants and hoped his body would adjust slowly to that after this incident.

She took a breather, in and out as she kept staring at him. It calmed her knowing there was someone who really loved him for who he was. Wouldn’t it be easier if they could just confess? If Wanyin could be honest with himself for once and pursue his happiness?

Maybe it wasn’t that easy after all… Not when he had to take care of everything inside himself first.

“You deserve to be happy. Don’t punish yourself for the past,” it sounded like a quiet plead. “You deserve this happiness, Jiang Cheng.”

Everything was dark when he opened his eyes and laid there, blinking. His heart was beating fast as his lungs gasped for air to calm his nerves. The robes he wore was drenched in sweat, adding to another cause for his bad dreams. He laid still. The twitches in his muscles tingled and made him unable to move from wherever he was lying down.

He closed his eyes again, a frown formed between his eyebrows. It had been a while since he had gotten such a dream, and he didn’t understand why it decided to appear now. The dream about his family’s death, the fire that engulfed his home, and the dream about the ugly scar on his chest. The scar that constantly reminded him of his failures and weaknesses.

Jiang Wanyin sighed and opened his eyes again. The surrounding around him wasn’t as dark as he first opened his eyes, perhaps his vision had gotten adjusted to such darkness. He took another breath, in and out, and tried to figure out where he was. Everything around him looked familiar from the painting on the wall and down to the chair beside him, except for the person who was sitting on the chair. This person he wasn’t familiar at all.

The man was slumped against his bedside, not too far from where he was lying but enough not to disturb them both. The dark hair was long and messy while the white ribbon on his forehead looked familiar to the Gusu Lan sect. It reminded him that it could be his brother dressing up like a Gusu Lan disciple just because he could.

One of the man’s arms was supporting the head that had laid down with eyes closed and breathing still. The other was holding his hand, not too tightly or loosely. He tried lifting the hand away but failed. The hand wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to wake this person yet.

Jiang Wanyin fell back to the comfort of his head pillow and stare at the man’s face. The soft features of his eyelids and the contented smile on his face reminded him of Lan Xichen. The man who was always smiling, no matter what others threw at him. It was a miracle that Zewu-jun could smile like because if it were him, he would have used zidian on them out of irritation.

Another heavy breath came out as he kept looking at the peaceful face beside him. If only he could wake up seeing such a face in front of him, he would be very happy. Seeing the peaceful face of a man that he loved every day…

It caught his breath. He couldn’t think about something like that, not in this lifetime or in the next. How could he dare to think that he could have a happy ending when his parents and his sister couldn’t? Who was he joking with… He didn’t deserve this happiness. Out of anyone, he was the last person who would dare to think of such an ending for himself. His life had no future like his brother.

Wei Wuxian deserved this bright and shining happiness. After all, he had sacrificed everything and even died because of it. While him, his greed, envy, and arrogance had once blinded his eyes from seeing the right and wrong. Who was he to think that he deserved such happiness? He didn’t deserve or need it. He couldn’t be any more selfish than he was now. His sect and people needed him… They needed a strong leader who was willing to throw everything for them, so that was what he was going to be.

Another heavy breath escaped through his mouth. The warmness this hand gave to him was something he wanted but not he needed. His people needed him to be strong, they didn’t need to see what he wanted for himself. Besides, it was impossible to think that anyone would accept him anyway. Even the matchmaker had given up on him, after all an omega man and a leader like him…

“Wanyin…”

He couldn’t finish his thought, only stared at the man’s sleeptalking. How nice would it be if he could marry Lan Xichen… That man had gone through so many hardships, even betrayed by his own trusted brother and still, he opened himself to the people. He believed in the goodness of everyone’s heart and tried to see that instead of the bad. While him, it took him a while to even call Wei Wuxian as his brother again and accept him back in Lotus Pier.

But, Lan Xichen must have hated him now. It wasn’t entirely hard to hate Jiang Wanyin because he himself hated him. If it was that easy to hate himself, imagine how easy it was for others to hate him.

He breathed in and out again, trying to clear his mind from all the thoughts. Everything would be fine, they were leaving this morning back to Gusu, so he didn’t have to worry about this until later. All he wanted and needed to do now was to go back to sleep, and he did.

Jiang Wanyin closed his eyes and felt the long fingers holding his hand tighter. It warmed his heart and he wished for this hand to always be there for him. Even if it were only in his dream…

The morning greeted him again with a bright and harsher light. He blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes to see the ceiling of his room. It calmed him knowing where he was.

He took a deep breath and let it out. The light shining through the window was warm against his skin like the hand that held him the entire night. Though the person wasn’t there anymore, the warmness lingered and made him smile.

Yesterday was such a terrible night, wasn’t it? The way things just went wrong, and how his physician would probably send someone to make sure he was taking his medicine correctly too. He was such a mess, or he had always been a mess since the beginning.

He smiled despite knowing he would get scolded by a particular someone. It was nice to not have a nightmare once in his lifetime. Besides all the yawning and the aching in his body, he felt better after the second round of sleep he had. He was sure that his physician would force him to rest again in the afternoon.

Jiang Wanyin pushed himself up and leaned against the wall behind him. His lower back began throbbing but it wasn’t a problem for him. All he wanted to know was what time it was and who was with him last night (because he refused to believe it was Lan Xichen).

A quiet knock came and the door to his inner chamber opened. The sight of purple robes with a ponytail entered his room. He carried a basin and some cloths in his hands.

Their eyes met and the man almost lost his balance, trying to catch the flying clothes.

“Sect… Sect Leader Jiang.”

It was Wen Ning, and he did look good in their color.

“I’m awake,” he said and noticed the soreness in his throat.

Wen Ning nodded, saying:

“I...apologize for coming in without permission,” he stuttered while looking down to the ground, afraid to meet the eyes of the sect leader. “I deserve to be punished.”

Jiang Wanyin sighed when he heard that. None of his disciples wanted to be punished, yet this one asked for one. Wen Ning did nothing wrong by entering his room; he probably didn’t know that he was awake. It was a coincidence, not his fault.

“I accept your apology. Your punishment is to look after Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui whenever they are here,” Jiang Wanyin paused, thinking for a little bit before continuing. “That includes going to night-hunts with them.”

Wen Ning stared at him, his eyes opened wide showing every emotions and confusion in his head.

“What? Any complaints?” Jiang Wanyin snapped but his stomach was saying something else.

His stomach felt like it was stabbed multiple times and all he could do was curled himself. His throat began to hurt and the retching came back to him like last night.

Wen Ning immediately jumped and ran toward his sect leader, giving the empty basin in his hand to the other. The dry cloths were left on the bedside as he rubbed sect leader Jiang’s back as he relieved everything into the basin.

It was acidic and painful. Jiang Wanyin felt like his throat was slit and drained. The retching didn’t stop after he threw everything up. It kept coming to him and he tried to hold it in before it stopped. He leaned back, catching his breath and spit the remaining feeling in his mouth to the basin.

Wen Ning handed a cup to the sect leader and was quickly downed to clean whatever remained in his mouth. Once he was done, Wen Ning gave him the dry cloths to wipe his mouth while he took care of the basin. When he came back to the room, the sect leader had already closed his eyes and looked like trying to calm himself down.

“How are you feeling, Sect Leader Jiang?” Wen Ning asked, giving him a cup of warm tea to the leader’s hand.

Jiang Wanyin held the warm cup on his hand and focused on his breathing. No matter how much he wanted to reply, he was more afraid of the gagging to come back to him. He drank from the cup slowly and held it there. The aroma of this tea wasn’t something he was used to drinking, maybe the kitchen staffs were trying something new?

Wen Ning took the cup away when the sect leader placed it down. He smiled when the cup he got was empty. It seemed that Zewu-jun was right for serving this kind of tea, he’d definitely let him know how sect leader Jiang finished the whole cup without throwing up.

“Sect Leader Jiang?” Wen Ning called again, and this time all he got in reply was a heavy breath.

“I’m fine,” sect leader Jiang said. “What happened last night?”

Wen Ning hummed, thinking from where he should start telling him. Since Zewu-jun and sect leader Jiang didn’t seem to currently have a good relationship, he was trying to be careful to not mess things up further. So, he started with:

“Zewu—,” no, he should try again.

Wen Ning cleared his throat and tried again.

“My sister told me that you were poisoned, Sect Leader Jiang. Zewu-jun brought you to the room while my sister took care of the toxin.”

Should he tell him about Zewu-jun staying up all night to take care of him?

“I don’t know what happened after. Sister told me to mix up the herbs and gave it to you before I went back.”

No, maybe he shouldn’t. What if it made their relationship more complicated?

“Zewu-jun was here this morning to take a look at you. I—,” Wen Ning wondered if he should ask. “I can call him back if you want.”

His body tensed as if he were about to get punished. Wen Ning waited for the word or hand to come but it never came. All that came was a heavy breath and a groaned.

“No, they are be leaving soon. Don’t call him back,” Jiang Wanyin commanded.

He felt gross after throwing up but surprisingly, his robe was dry, unlike last night. Did the siblings change him in the middle of the night? Or was it his brother, Wei Wuxian?

Wen Ning nodded and sat still. He wondered what else he should do to make his sect leader better.

“Did you go night-hunting last night? With Jin Ling and your nephew?”

The question caught him off guard. How was he supposed to leave knowing that his sect leader might need anything from him at any time?

Wen Ning blinked a couple of times before answering:

“No,” he replied. “Sect Leader Jiang needs my medicine and I can’t abandon my duty.”

His hands were gripping his robes hard. He tried his best not to tremble in front of the sect leader but it seemed to be failing fast. The fear inside him was slowly inching out, trying to eat him alive.

The sect leader, on the other hand, grinned when he heard that. It was refreshing to know that Wen Ning could finally talk to him back without falling apart. He knew he didn’t give them a good first impression, even blamed Wen Ning for the death of his sister and her husband. And, he wished to change that. It wasn’t his fault after all. He was simply at the wrong time and place.

“You finally speak your mind in front of me,” Jiang Wanyin sounded proud. Though Wen Ning wasn’t exactly like a little brother, he could look like one to him. “Don’t be afraid to speak your mind. Use your voice confidently.”

Wen Ning looked at him and his hands were no longer twisting his robe. He gave the sect leader a wide smile. The fear inside him disappeared as he watched the sect leader.

“Am I allowed to take a bath? I can see that your mixed herbs are still on me.”

Wen Ning nodded with excitement. He was glad that his herbs worked though it was painful for his sect leader.

“Yes, Sect Leader!” He replied, a little too loud than he expected. He lowered his voice immediately, “I will let my sister know that you’re awake. Please excuse me.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded as the man walked off and closed the door. He sighed, leaning back on the wall for a second and appreciating the silence. He closed his eyes and wondered what his mother would say if she knew he was sheltering the clan who killed her… He laughed, knowing that his mother would probably whipped him while yelling:

“You’re such a disappointment!”

He sighed, his fingers playing with the ring on his finger. He was such a disappointment. Not even now, from the day he was born.

Jiang Wanyin was a walking disappointment the moment he was born into this world. But, he did not regret saving the Wen with him.

He never did.

Their walk to the morning meal was quiet. Today was their supposed departure day but his heart felt heavy for some reasons. It didn’t seem right for them to leave just yet. He didn’t know why, he just knew.

He turned to his side and see his husband’s face. Lan Wangji’s face was still and peaceful, a total opposite from his. The curve on his lips was different from years ago when Wei Wuxian first saw him in the Mo Village. His husband was grieving then, and he had put him under many difficulties during their journey but here they were. Yet, he was the still same from all those years ago, only Wei Wuxian was able to read his husband’s expression a little better than before.

When Lan Wanji turned to see him, Wei Wuxian looked into those golden crystals. He wondered why did it take him all these years to realize his husband’s feeling toward him. If he did realized it earlier, could they avoided all these mess that he made?

Wei Wuxian let out a heavy breath, decided not to pursue that thoughts any further. The past should stay in the past, and he should focus on fixing his relationship with Jiang Cheng. After all, that was only thing he could do for now.

“Wei Ying.”

He smiled, still looking at his husband as they walk.

“Yes, Lan Zhan…”

Lan Wangji held his arm and stopped them from walking. He bent down, closing his eyes before pressing his lips against his husband. A few smooches were left before they broke the kiss with Lan Wangji staring at him.

“Oh, naughty Lan Zhan wants attention in the morning,” Wei Wuxian teased, looking around to see if there were anyone else besides him. “Good thing no one is here. What if others see you doing this, Lan Er Gege?”

Wei Wuxian giggled, pressing his lips against his husband’s soft lips again. Lan Wangji kissed back, his hands were on his husband’s back and holding him close.

“Okay, before you can eat me all you want,” Wei Ying broke their kiss. “Tell me what did your brother say about my brother?”

The light golden eyes were still looking at him, as if telling him to quiet down. So, Wei Wuxian kissed him again for the last time before they started walking again.

“I’m worried, Lan Zhan. I’ve never seen Jiang Cheng like this before, okay, maybe once after the Wen destroyed Lotus Pier. But…” Wei Wuxian held his thoughts and looked into his husband’s eyes. “But, there’s no such threat anymore. What else is he worrying about?”

Lan Wangji let out a silent breath and planted a kiss on his husband’s forehead. Their hands were intertwined now, as if offering comfort to the other.

“Brother had an arrangement with the past Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Wangji explained. His voice was calm and collected, though he knew it wasn’t in his place to explain anything.

“Arrangement? With Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu? What kind of arrangement, Lan Zhan? I’ve never heard of this before.” Wei Wuxian was surprised, more shocked at the revelation. Jiang Cheng never told him anything about this, not even when they were kids. Did Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu arranged it without telling them at all?

“Wei Ying, calm down,” was all Lan Wangji could tell him. He himself didn’t know the details of the arrangement since it had gone cold, but why did big brother suddenly bring it up to Jiang Wanyin?

“Lan Zhan, what kind of arrangement is it? Is that what’s troubling Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian continued to ask but got no response from the older. All he got was silent as the answer.

It wasn’t particularly a silent. Wei Wuxian noticed the slight change in his husband’s face when he asked his questions. The older man was thinking about it too, and seemed like they both were pretty clueless about the matter.

“It was an arranged marriage,” Lan Wangji responded, and it stopped Wei Wuxian dead on his track.

This wasn’t the first time he heard about arrange marriage. His sister, Jiang Yanli and her husband Jin Zixuan’s marriage was supposed to be an arranged marriage before Uncle Jiang broke it off. It was his fault really. Had he not punched Jin Zixuan on his face, maybe they would get married earlier. But, in the end, they still married each other out of love, so his actions didn’t do much to severe the relationship. (He still felt bad about it though)

“My guess is between my brother and yours?”

Lan Wangji nodded, giving him a quiet:

“Mm.”

It was obvious because who else was there. If Madam Yu had already arranged for shijie to marry Jin Zixuan, it left them with Jiang Cheng assuming this was before he came into the family.

Wei Wuxian sighed, if this was the case, what was bothering Jiang Cheng this much? Zewu-jun was such a nobleman and responsible too. If he weren’t with Lan Zhan, Zewu-jun would probably on his list of men he wanted to marry. Thank goodness and heaven that he married Lan Zhan in the end though. He might prefer Hanguang-jun than his brother by a slight bit. But, really what bothered his brother so much about it?

“Then, last night. What happened last night?” Wei Wuxian pressed. “Jiang Cheng didn’t look good, his face was as pale as ashes, and it seemed to get worse when brother-in-law was there. Did something happen between them?”

Lan Wangji pondered in telling his husband about last night. He didn’t want his husband to worry but he knew if he didn’t tell him, Wei Ying would continue to worry for the rest of the day. Or, for the rest of the time until he knew what happened. There was no way Lan Wangji could win against his husband in this matter.

“Brother said it was poisoning,” Lan Wangji explained. “Jiang Wanyin took his medicine after drinking alcohol.”

Guilt started to sink in. Wei Wuxian didn’t notice that his brother was taking any medication at all. What kind of medication did he take? And, why was he the only one out of the loop in this? He frowned, thinking back to what happened before and after their evening meal.

“Wei Ying, morning meals first.”

Lan Wangji’s hand was on his husband’s waist, pulling him closer and hugging him.

“Not your fault, Wei Ying,” left Lan Wangji’s mouth.

Wei Wuxian smiled at the words. His husband did know him very well though he wasn’t telling him about the guilt that was eating him inside. What a husband he had and wish the same for his brother too…

“Thank you, Lan Zhan. Let’s go eat before the kids finish all our food,” Wei Wuxian said, walking with his husband’s hand on him. The unsettling feeling inside his heart was still there, but he ignored it for now. It wasn’t in his place to say anything about his brother’s life but if he could shoulder some of the burdens, he would.

After all, Jiang Cheng was still his brother and family, no matter what happened to them before.

#mo dao zu shi #xicheng #魔道祖师 #曦澄 #lan xichen #jiang cheng #nora's writing #i don't love you fic

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glass-neo-alchemist · 6 years

Text

Monsters

I made some really quick edits to this but tumblr’s a butt and won’t let me edit the actual post to here it is again!!

quick summery for those who have not read Bleeding heart, Morcant is a lady werewolf who Jekyll saved the life of by patching her up, she was really what makes him go like borderline mad scientist really in my opinion,

she's also really hot

also they cannon fucked!!!

HENRY JEKYLL IS A MONSTER FUCKER

In hindsight, Henry Jekyll probably should have been more cautious when it came to the letter that had appeared on his doorstep in the dead of night. It had appeared somewhere between midnight and four in the morning, the time between Edward Hyde leaving the society and returning. The letter was rather drab, paper grayed and dirty with messy handwriting. However as Hyde read through it any caution that either of the two would have was thrown to the wind. The letter was signed by their first fling, the daunting werewolf Morcant, and was addressed to Jekyll asking for him to meet her at the edge of the forest near East End London.

Hyde breezed through the lobby and up to the office, nearly sprinting there in excitement.

“Morcant! Can you believe it? We haven’t seen her in nearly three years!” Hyde grinned at the letter, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Wonder what she wants from us.” He glanced over to the mirror with a smirk at the image of Jekyll, currently trying to get another look at the letter in Edwards hand. At the comment he glared at the blond man even with his own light blush on his face.

‘ Stop it, she could be in trouble, we don’t know why she’s requesting us.’

“Oh I can think of a couple of reasons-“

‘ Stop!’ Edward wiggled his eyebrows up and down and Henry rolled his eyes*. Edward chuckled again, rereading the letter. It wasn’t big on specifics but neither did Morcant, just that she was in town and wanted to meet. Suddenly Hyde’s eyes lit up and he turned back to Henry in the mirror.

“I’m finally getting to meet her!”

‘ What?’

“She’ll be able to meet me, the better version of us of course.”

‘ You can’t go! What would she think? It not like she’d recognize me in you.’ Edward’s delighted expression turned to a glare at the other man.

“Says who? She’s a werewolf she could probably smell it or something.”

‘ Probably, or she could decide to ask questions later and tear our throat out.’

Edward sighed and glared and the ground.

“Fine whatever, you can make first appearances” his head darted back up to scowl at Henry. “But you can’t keep me from meeting her.” Jekyll looked away from him, pursing his lips before sharply nodding. Hyde grinned wickedly back and started shuffling through his jackets for the transformation potion and Henry looked at him, perplexed.

‘ What are you doing?’

Hyde grabbed the vile from his pocket and cocked his head with a sideways grin.

“Well it's not like there’s a time stamp, so we go now.” he said like it was obvious and Henry hummed in his throat a begrudged agreement.

Edward took the top off the vile, dug around in his pocket again for a moment and deposited a small white pill** in the mixture before quickly putting the cap back on and shaking it roughly, taking the top off again and letting a cloud of smoke pop out the top, Hyde puffed out a laugh.

“I still think you’re a wimp for adding the painkiller.”

‘Ah yes, because you definitely loved the agony of the first time around’ Jekyll said, monotone. ‘ You might not completely remember it, but I do, and it was terrible’*** Edward snickered before raising the vile to his lips.

“You’re still a wimp.”

He chugged the liquid, body convulsing, but all-in-all the worst thing Henry had to go through was having to wipe off the green substance off his face. Henry cracked his knuckles and stretched, only to have his shoulders caught by the small size of Edwards vest. He changed and headed towards the door, it was still pitch dark out and nearing four in the morning and his body was starting to ache from exhaustion, but the prospect of seeing Morcant again kept him moving, along with Hyde’s incessant rambling, and his curiosity of the mysterious werewolf was one that had stayed in the back of his mind for a good amount of the last three years without seeing her, this was what was keeping him from really questioning what was going on, although it was strange, morcant had waited nearly seven years last time, this was rather recent all things considering. Maybe that was the thought that had him slowing down as he entered the edge of the forest, his eyes trying to make out the world around him in the dim light coming from the east end’s downtown. He heard a snap in the darkness and he jumped, spinning on his heel, and was about to call out as something barreled into him, knocking the wind out of him and off his feet. He let out a yelp as clawed hands were pressed to his face, but all the fear left him as his eyes focused on bright yellow ones directly above him, sparkling with delight.

“Henry Jekyll!” Morcant said leaning down to press her forehead to his, her messy hair falling down to cover Henry as well as his hands rose up to be placed over the other’s that were still caressing his cheeks.

“Morcent! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Henry said as he was helped to his feet by the grinning werewolf, who was currently dressed in some loose robes, not entirely different to those Henry had gifted her all those years ago, but black, and fitted her better, still probably not something acceptable to be worn out of ones room, but still.****

“I am sorry love, you surprised me,” she quirked her head to the side, puzzling “You… feel different from the last time we met, my dear doctor.”

‘HAHA SHE’S TALKING ABOUT ME!!!’ In the shadows, Hyde was circling Morcant relentlessly, nearly jumping up and down in joy at the sight of the werewolf.

Jekyll chuckled nervously, glancing away from her, nervously rubbing his arm, almost sheepish.

“Yeah, about that, there’s something you should probably know…” He started, only to be cut off by Morcent suddenly spinning on her heel and back towards the woods, her long ears pointed sharply up, and a hand raised to silence him, she scanned the darkness before whispering to Jekyll softly.

“We can finish this latter, but I didn’t come here just to see you…” Henry tried to look around the woman to try and see what she had found, she quickly glanced back to the man as he did so.

“I’ve been tracking something.”

“What?” Henry asked as she edged further away from him

“Another werewolf, he’s unstable and he’s been intruding on my territory, killing innocents, causing havoc.” She started towards the darkness, Henry could see her skin start to twitch as she started leaning forward, changing into her wolf form,***** but Henry could still hear her voice as she sunk into shadows.

“Get back to your home, we will meet another day, Henry Jekyll, but right now the woods is for monsters.” she disappeared into the woods.

‘But we are monsters! No fair, I could have helped her.’ Hyde glared at Jekyll ‘ Just couldn't get it out fast enough, huh?’ Henry gave him one of his ‘are you fucking serious‘ faces and sighed looking to the spot where she had disappeared.

“It’s too bad, I wanted to talk to her more, maybe we could come back tomorrow?...” Henry mostly muttered to himself as he took a couple of steps back, feeling a bit forlorn in the dead silence.

Well mostly silence.

Jekyll’s eyes went wide as he was suddenly aware of the deep breathing that had been sounding in the background, and dread filled his veins as he slowly turned on his heel, back to the East End, and started to sprint for his life.

As he expected, the creature immediately took chase, the woods exploded as the werewolf was hard on his heels, snarling and screeching, and Henry could only hope Morcant was still close enough to hear it. Branches were snapping and the ground began to shake as it came closer and closer, Henry finally feeling it’s hot breathe on the back of his neck, whatever Hyde was screaming about was drowned out by Jekyll’s own fear and blood rushing through his head, he didn’t even notice the tears running down his face. It was too dark and any sense of direction he had was thrown out the window as the world spun as the good doctor’s foot caught on the root of a tree. Henry was thrown to the ground and landed hard, he desperately flipped on his back trying to get away from the monster.

The only warning he got was the glint of the moonlight off the claws of the werewolf.

Swinging down viciously, the world seemed to slow down as the horrendously curved claws dug deep into Jekyll’s stomach, the unfortunate creature and the doctor met eyes for a moment, it’s evil amber and his terrified red, and Henry could see the sick twisted joy in it. The werewolf had opened its jaws to take a bite out of Henry’s throat, but was stopped by the dark shape of another wolf knocking it the the ground.

Morcant was back, her hulking wolf form clutching the other wolf in a flurry of teeth and claws, as Henry, completely panic induced, clutched at the weeping wound in his midsection, shirt ruined, torn and blood soaked. His hands were covered in blood and when he examined them for a fleeting moment, there were three of them. Henry tried to get to his feet only to fall back to the ground coughing up blood, looking around desperately, the only thing clear the image of Hyde, staring down at him with an outstretched hand, looking physical and not the usual wispy demon. And as Henry heard Morcant screech behind him and the thud as she was thrown against a tree, he didn’t hesitate to grab Edwards hand.

Before, with all the action happening around him, Henry had been spared the brunt of the pain of his injuries due to adrenaline, but switching to Edward was definitely one of the worse pains he’s been for a while. The feeling of flesh moving over his bones, pins and needle covering his entire body and the feeling of being electrocuted filled his brain, his soul tearing in two, Edward Hyde choked on blood and green elixir pouring from his mouth, and pouring out his eyes, bones cracking as he gripped the ground, but he given no time to recover as a growl alerted him to their attacker. Hyde, quick as a flash, grabbed a deadly pointed stick from the ground he had noticed while Henry had been busy coughing out their internal organs. Grabbing it, not letting the pain get to his quite yet, he drove the stick into their attackers throat.

The werewolf choked, clawing at his own throat to get out the foreign object, only to have his neck completely snapped by Morcant, who had once again recovered and drove her sharp teeth into the back of his neck, only releasing him once his body was completely limp. Body falling to the ground, Morcan huffed through her snout before shifting back to her more human form, Hyde grinned up at her.

“E’llo luv.” he said, rather light headed and delirious at this point. Morcant hesitantly reached out, gently tipping Edwards head from side to side, he could not resist letting her do so if he even wanted to, giggling a little at her shocked expression.

“So you are the change in my dear doctor.” she muttered softly scanning his face. Edward smiled a bit wider, but his hand reached up to grip her wrist, still lightly holding his chin, and he gripped onto her tightly as he eyes started to slump, as his breathing became labored.

“I’ve been so looking to reintroduce my’elf…” his words started to slur as he fell to his side, clutching his midsection, before spasming once more, form changing once again as the green elixir that had covered Edward’s face now was on Henry’s and his face was contorted into pain as his entire body shook as tears fell from his face******. Morcant grabbed the fail man into her arms and placed a hand softly on his cheek, wiping away the tears and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, the doctor’s breathing slowed and evened slightly as his eyes drifted shut. Morcant held his sleeping form to her naked chest and tucked his head to her shoulder, hefting him up in her arms and sprinting the short space from where they were to the edge of the forest. Morcant muttered an apology to Jekyll’s sleeping form and plucked his cloak off of him, and wrapping it around her shoulders one handed. Morcant looked at his wound once more, his clawed stomach had not stopped bleeding, and her heart dropped to her feet as she found that he was not only covered in his own blood, but also the blood of their attacker, he must have gotten it on him when Hyde had stabbed him through the neck.******* Morcant glanced back to the forest, then to the city with disgust, but then once again looking to the dying figure in her arms, who she squeezed tight, before continuing to walk to London, whispering to Jekyll softly.

“Welcome to the monsters of the woods my dear doctor.”

actual notes at the end of the thing!!

*yes they are referencing to Jekyll and Morcant fucking **in this version, i made it so that jekyll and hyde add an extra ingredient to the transformation solution thats basically pain killer cuz ow *** Edward went on a complete endorphin high throughout the first transformation, cuz he was literally coming into existence Jekyll did not get that cuz he already existed ****Morcant wears robes when she's near societies *****Morcant can change at will if the moon is not full, its not controllable if it is ****** Hyde fuckin wimped out the moment the adrenaline started to drain and switched back to Jekyll, his thought process basically being like “oh shit I just did that I’m so cool- oh what the fuck hell no fuck this shit I’m out *******to become a werewolf you need both a wound from one, and their blood

#the glass scientists #henry jekyll #edward hyde #arens talkin cursive #fic #dr jekyll and mr hyde #morcant

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xreaderfic-land · 6 years

Text

What Lies Beneath Part 5 Red Hood (Jason Todd) X Reader

Summary: Coming back home to Gotham after several years was a tough choice, but you needed to put the past behind you. You blame yourself for Jason’s death and hope that with a medical degree you can have a second chance at saving the kids of Gotham’s streets, but the past won’t stay buried. As the Red Hood invites himself into your life and the little safe bubble of a lie you call life bursts you’re left struggling to cope. Your secret studying of toxins used by Gotham’s villains is sure to land you in hot water eventually, but you’re always up for a challenge. Life is a game of survival and it’s time you joined in.

Co-Author: @inkteller-17

Tags: @jason-todd-rh @totallynotashieldagent

Tags OPEN

WARNINGS: LANGUAGE, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE

Catch Up Here

Your POV

Red slowed to a stop in front of your apartment allowing you to ease off. Re-adjusting your bag you fished for your keys. After a whole night of administering cures to kids, you weren’t quite ready to nod off; there was paperwork and some unwinding to be done.

Chewing your lip your fingers curled around your keys. Peeking up at Red you noted that you sort of owed him and voiced your sudden idea.

“Did you want to come in? I can order some take-out, my treat. I mean unless you have somewhere to be.”

Red was silent for several heartbeats as the creeping darkness thickened around you both. Rocking back on your heels you prepared to accept his silence as a negative to the invite, but his sudden dismounting corrected the thought.

Red made sure to pull his keys free of his bike before shoving them in his pocket.

“I can spare a couple hours more then I’ll have to head out. Missing one night of patrol isn’t a big deal, but two might be pushing it.”

You nodded in understanding while leading the way to your place while talking over your shoulder.

“So, what are you craving?”

“A burger and beer sounds amazing right now, but pizza would work.”

Opening your contact list, you called the local pizza place that you had been getting very familiar with since being home. As you paced by the kitchen Red silently lifted your bag free of your shoulder and deposited it on the couch.

Red plopped down into the cushions beside the bag while mentioning a topping he wanted. A few minutes later you were ending the call.

“They are running a little behind so could be here after the thirty minutes; hope that’s okay.”

Red shrugged while you sank into your recliner with a sigh.

That special kind of peaceful silence descended between you both. Curling your feet under you your body relaxed into the seat fully while Red worked to shed his jacket.

Once comfortable again Red spoke up “You have off tomorrow?”

“I’m actually on call the next few days which is nice. Why do you ask?”

Red threw an arm over his head

“Just curious. I’m assuming you’ll be hauled up in your apartment working though.”

“Unless I get invited out to lunch or something with some friends you’re probably right.”

Red made a sound of understanding before you turned the tables.

“What about you?”

“Same old shit different day. Patrols, follow up on leads, and now help you out with the cure whenever you’re ready.”

As Red mentioned the cure you rose from the recliner and collected your bag. Walking back toward the study you busied yourself with tossing the old needles and other garbage littering the bag.

Holding the bag at an angle you tried to peer inside to make sure the bag was completely cleaned out.

“You look like you’re searching for Narnia.”

“Ha. Ha. Just trying to make sure no old stuff gets mixed in with the new stuff next time around. Hey, do you think you could mark down on the map with a different colored marker where we stopped tonight?”

Red moved toward the map only stopping briefly to playfully bump into you. Instinct had your hand swatting lightly at his forearm. The whole encounter was silent but the air around you both was so light and comfortable.

Lowering the bag your eyes studied Red’s backside as he uncapped a marker. Your eyes traced Red’s muscular backside noting the obvious dips and rises apparently through his form-fitting black top.

Your lower lip found its way between your top teeth the longer you studied him. As Red circled a few spots of the map you zeroed in on the simple way he held the marker.

While everyone tended to hold writing utensils relatively the same way something in your brain registered as familiar. Your fingers curled against the fabric of the bag as you tried to pin down what exactly that familiar thing was.

The sound of hurried banging at your front door had you and Red twisting around. Silence followed for a moment before the banging returned.

“Pizza place wasn’t as behind as they thought. I’ll be right back.”

Dropping the bad on top of the table you walked out of the study not waiting for Red’s reply. Your hand trailed to your back pocket ready to free some cash as you pulled the door open.

“That was-”

Your words were cut off as a body suddenly fell into you sending you and the stranger to the floor. Pushing yourself upwards you weren’t given the opportunity to scramble away as the strange man clung to your legs.

“Pl-please help me.”

The man’s voice was a scratchy whisper as he looked desperately up at you. Your heart threw itself against your rib cage as your brain raced to process everything.

Shaking your head free of its daze you noted the thick black ring around the man’s irises before anything else.

“Red, I need a dose of the cure, quick!”

The calm doctor tone that usually sounded on instinct within the confines of the hospital was damaged a bit by a slight waver of uncertainty.

Quick thundering footfalls immediately sounded as Red crossed the distance between the study and living area within seconds.

Unable to really move with the stranger still desperately clinging to your legs you mutely reached for the syringe in Red’s hands. As you uncapped the needle Red managed to rip the man free of your legs with a swift jerk.

Red fisted the man’s shoulder with a tight gloved hand while holding him into a sitting position. Your eyes noted for a fleeting second the coiled muscles and tension riddling Red’s form before you focused on the other man.

Sweat beaded the man’s forehead saturating his hair while his chest jerked in uneven inhales.

Rocking forward you failed to locate the usual injection site below the man’s ear and cut Red a curious stare.

“Give me the damn cure! What the hell are you waiting for?!”

The man’s outburst had Red shaking the man none too gently

“Speak kindly to someone about to save your damn life, ass-”

“Red.” Your voice was a hiss silencing him now wasn’t the time. Looking back at the man now reaching uselessly for the syringe you asked him “How did you get infected?”

The man’s hand dropped as a violent wave of tremors wracked his body.

“I...I was helping some kids escape these th...thugs. I man...managed to push them out of the way, but the thing, whatever th...the goons were using g...got into me. It didn’t t...take long before I felt terrible. I tried to s...sleep it off, but it just got worse. Some of the ki...kids I had helped out to...told me about you. I got here as s...soon as I co...could.”

The man with shaking hands lifted his shirt to reveal the puncture site. Almost centered on his sternum was the quarter-sized ring and angry lifted latticework of veins.

Before you were given the chance to fully consider the man’s story his breath came in a sharp gasp. Your eyes shot to his face finding his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Shit! Lay him down!”

Red immediately lowered the man onto the floor as you searched for a clean vein. As the man’s shakes turned into convulsions Red pinned the man’s arms down allowing you to inject the cure.

Pulling the needle-free you rounded the man’s body and sat on his legs while his body rode out a seizure-like state of muscle spasms.

Closing your eyes your fingers found the pulse point within the man’s ankle and began gauging his heart rate.

Several minutes of silence interrupted by the man’s body loudly convulsing on the floor passed before the man stilled.

Climbing toward the man’s head you went through a check. Forcing open his eyes you found the dark ring around his irises, much like the other kids, to be disappearing. Checking his pulse to be slowing into a normal range you let free sigh.

Rolling back on your haunches you finally looked up at Red who was still crouching motionless beside you.

“He should come around soon.”

Red was silent for a few heartbeats as his leather gloves clenched tight “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Sighing you brushed hair from your face “Red, he almost died.” Your eyes scanned Red’s mask “Not only that but now we know for sure there’s people running around injecting kids with God only knows what.”

Red shook his head “That’s not-”

Red’s words died as the man inhaled heavily with a cough. Redirecting your gaze, you scooted closer. Placing a steadying hand on the man’s arm you helped him sit up.

“How are you feeling?” You glanced at the disheveled man trying to get his bearings.

“My body is already starting to not ache.” The man gave a quiet chuckle to his observation “I thought I was a goner for sure that time. Man, lady, you have some lifesaver stuff there.”

Your head cocked to the side at the man’s odd chipper mood. Considering he’d just had a brush with some serious conditions his bounce back was a little unsettling.

“Um, I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’ considering the effects are already kicking in.”

Pushing to your feet you watched the man fluidly mirror you. Red stepped closer to you as the man went about stretching and seemingly doing an internal check. An unsettling smile came to rest on his features the longer he stood there pleased with his reaction to the antidote.

Red shifted at your side catching your attention. Red had his arms crossed as he faced the man in your living room. The tension that had been rolling off him before was borderline waves of something else that you failed to place. Your brows furrowed as he rocked back and forth.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Red’s clipped words beat you.

“Alright dude time for you to get moving along. I’ll walk you out.”

The finality of Red’s last words had your brows lifting “Red, he doesn’t need an escort.”

Red turned to you sharply and for once you were glad to be spared of his gaze “I have to head out anyways, remember?”

Mutely you nodded while Red none to gently shoved the other man toward the door who spoke up at being roughly shoved outside. “Easy there Big Guy.”

“This is me being gentle. You want to know what manhandling feels like keep dragging your feet.”

Red “helped” the dude over the threshold and outside before turning at the waist to give a few parting words.

“Double-lock this door and check your windows after I leave. Call me if you need anything, got it? I’m installing security tech into your place tomorrow.”

You failed to withhold the eye roll that came over you.

“Y/N.” Red’s tone was clipped and leaning heavily toward Worried Mother Hen.

Heaving a sigh “Red, I’ll be fine. I already have security-”

“Well, it's getting upgraded. I’ll see you later.”

Before you could even utter another syllable, Red shut your front door. Planting your hands on your hips you heaved yet another sigh. While crafty counterarguments and the need to reopen the door and tell Red straight made your fingers twitch there was no point.

Growing up as friends of the Batman and Robin(s) crew you knew when to just let some things go. Wasn’t worth the hours' long argument.

Scrubbing a hand along your forehead you decided after the day you’d had it was time to just relax. Checking the clock, you figured there was time before the pizza came for real.

Going through your apartment you locked things up like Red asked.

*********

Jason POV

Shoving Mystery Creep further outside Jason made sure they were both far enough from Y/N’s apartment before twisting him around.

“I’m going to ask this nicely once. Who the fuck are you and how did you know about this place?”

The other guy yanked his shoulder free of Jason’s crushing hold and lifted his hands defensively. “Whoa now. I told you-”

Jason was gripping the dude’s shirtfront and yanking him close within seconds.

“Answer my question before I break your fucking kneecaps, asshat.”

Sweat dotted the man’s forehead as the scent of fear suddenly drenched the air. Jason’s nose wrinkled beneath his helmet as the man frantically worked to spit out a coherent sentence.

“I...I was injected by some thugs. Like I said, I was hel...helping some kids and got stuck with the needle. The kids told me-”

Jason gave the guy a rough shake “Keep lying and things only get worse for you. The kids didn’t tell you shit, so how did you know?”

“I...I…” The man stumbled over his words trying to piece together something from thin air.

Jason felt his patience slip as he craned back his right arm ready to “help” the dude remember his story.

Ready to let his arm sling forward the dude transformed before Jason’s eyes. Going from a shaking sniveling creep to a calm, steady, and ready to do something stupid creep.

Before Jason had time to pull back the guy was breaking his hold and throwing a swing. Stepping back Jason let the guy hit air before leaning to the side and delivering a quick shot to his ribcage.

The air left the dude in a huff as his one knee dropped to the asphalt. Jason pulled free one of his guns and clicked back the safety before taking aim.

“Want to try that again?”

The other guy chuckled “She’s stepped onto a larger playing field and you know it.”

Jason’s teeth ground together. Ignoring the dude’s attempt at distraction Jason bit out “You going to answer my earlier question or am I going to have to gunshot wound persuade you?”

Creeper Man glared up at Jason before a smile cracked across his features “Nah, I have places to be.”

Jason’s finger twitched against the trigger, but he never fully pulled it back because the dude yanked free a smoke bomb from someplace and set it off.

Swearing under his breath Jason ran into the haze but the guy was gone. Scanning the surrounding area Jason found there to be way too many possible exits to accurately track him. Flicking the safety back over Jason shoved his gun back into it holster.

A string of colorful curses left his lips as he stomped back toward his bike. Cranking the engine Jay was suddenly tearing off down the street. Mentally Jay noted he needed the extra security setup outside of Y/N’s apartment sooner rather than later.

Heading toward his safehouse to gather supplies Jay’s anger climbed to new heights. He mentally beat himself up over the fact that the creeper had gotten away.

A creeper that had not only known about Y/N’s cure but where she lived. The man’s face burned itself mockingly into Jason’s mind as he tore through Gotham.

Heading toward his meet up location with Dick for patrol Jason prayed to whatever higher being was out there that Dick wasn’t a dick tonight. Getting the slip from a scumbag was annoying enough, if Dick got on his nerves there was a substantial risk of Jason shooting his ass just because.

Rolling to a stop Jason inhaled deeply as Dick stood, illuminated by headlights, in all his Nightwing glory. Flipping off the bike’s engine Dick cocked a questioning brow.

“Don’t. I’m here. Let’s do this and be done.”

Jason’s sharp tone was enough to have Dick nodding in silent agreement to shelve his questions for later. Jason and Dick effortlessly scaled a building to an outlook point.

Bracing himself against the rooftop railing Jason stared unseeingly downwards.

“You sure you ready for this? Might be a simple shakedown, but-”

Jason motioned toward the gathering of men in the alley below moving boxes worth of stolen merchandise as he spoke, “If you’re quite done let’s get to kicking ass instead of having a Dr. Phil moment.

Before Dick could say anything else, Jason vaulted over the side while drawing his guns. His earlier frustration wasn’t going anywhere, and he had the perfect outlet. Taking aim Jason had a bullet embedding itself into one guy’s upper thigh and another into some other guys shoulder.

All non-lethal shots that would hurt like a bitch, but at least he was feeling a little better.

Eventually, the shouts, gunfire, and bone cracks morphed into whimper broken silence. Clicking free empty ammo clips Jason nodded at he and Dick’s handy work.

Quickly reloading Jason looked over to Dick as he rummaged through a box of stolen goods. Jason could tell from Dick’s body language he was irritated about something.

“Let’s go, Hood. GCPD will be here soon.”

The typical choir of pleads to be cut free sounded from the thugs tied up. Jason snorted a laugh at the poor souls before following Dick back toward their bikes.

Once within range Dick turned on his heel and shoved Jason.

“What the hell was that?”

Jason’s anger sparked back to life “I’m sorry when did I start having to report to you again?”

“Dammit Jay.” Dick’s whispered words held an edge to them that Jason bristled at.

“I got here to help you, Dick. Listen, I have a life outside of just helping you-”

“I know that you jerk, but you nearly got your ass handed to you a few times back there. Whatever has you preoccupied is something you need to get rid of.”

Jason rounded on Dick getting inches from his face “Do I tell you how to do your job? No, so don’t tell me how to do mine. And for the record, I had everything under control.”

Dick leveled Jason with a bored look “Oh, yeah, so getting knocked on your ass by three guys half your size was all part of your marvelous plan?”

Jason was silent at Dick’s words because honestly, he’d been hoping his glorious fail went unseen. Backpaddling several steps Jason slowly turned on his heel.

Dick rubbed a hand along his neck “You’ve been distracted to say the least since Y/N got back. What exactly have you-”

“This is not the place nor the time to discuss that. To be honest Dick it’s not any of your damn business.”

“To hell it’s not. Y/N is-”

“Not a topic of discussion. I’m fine and so is she.”, Jason stalked toward his bike, “There’s nothing you need to worry about.”, Straddling his bike and cranking the engine Jason gave a few parting words, “I have to run and check something. Need something text; otherwise, I’m patrolling Crime Alley tonight.”

*******

Your POV

Rubbing your eyes you pushed away from the work table in the makeshift lab room. You’d managed to prep another working cure that might prove better than the one you’d been administering.

Glancing at the clock you gave an almost crazed burst of laughter while grabbing at one of the two remaining pizza slices.

After Red had left you had planned to just organize the lab a bit before relaxing with some television. Too bad that idea had been three hours ago and since then the lab was, even more, a mess.

“Why do I always do this to myself?”

You spoke to an empty apartment and a mostly asleep Gotham city outside your walls.

The sound of rustling in your living room had your back straightening. Dropping your pizza and getting to your feet you searched for something to use as a defense. Spying nothing but pens and paper you cursed at recalling your pocket knife in the kitchen.

Heaving a quiet sigh, you put on a brave face and tiptoed out into your dark living room.

Eyes straining through the darkness you failed to immediately locate the source of the sound. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly rose as the sensation of someone behind you suddenly registered.

Throwing your elbow back hard and fast like you’d been taught you managed to strike the person’s sternum making them grunt in pain. Spinning around you noted the person was male due to the way their grunt was lowly tenured. Readying a crippling kick to the dude’s future kids you were surprised by his evasive move.

As he stepped back out of range leaving your foot to hit air you readied for a strike to his throat instead. Once again you hit air as the dude effortlessly moved out of the way.

As you started to pull your arm back you were caught off guard as his hand curled around your wrist. Before you had time to react the dude was spinning you around and pinning you to the front of his chest.

“Not bad, Y/L/N.”

The lowly spoken sound of your last name had you torn between wanting to sag in relief and crush Red’s foot.

“What the hell, Red!?”

Stepping forward you jerked free of his gentle hold as he laughed. With your eyes fully adjusted to the dark room, you glared at the innocent set of Red’s body language as he shrugged.

“What?”

Shaving at his chest “Don’t ‘what’ me you jerk. I thought you were an intruder. You’re so lucky I don’t break your ass!”

“Oh yeah?” Red reached to flick on a nearby light “Is it weird that I really want to see you do that?”

You flipped him the bird “You’re insufferable.”

“Yet you manage it.”

Huffing a breath, you tried to calm your racing heart rate “What are you doing here?” Before Red could respond you added, “And stop breaking into my apartment you dick!”

Red snorted a laugh “If your security wasn’t so shitty I wouldn’t be able to.”

Crossing your arms “Is that why you’re here at” you glanced at the clock again “midnight?”

“That and you owe me food.”

You stared at Red unblinking for a second as you registered his total seriousness. He had broken into your apartment again just for pizza and to install security.

“You’re a real douche canoe, Red. You know I should really beat your ass.”

“Oh, please by all means do. I have to see this.”

Red’s teasing tone had your fists balling for a moment before you just leaped at him. In the back of your head, you were fully aware that he was a vigilante that exercised his abilities to kickass on the daily, but a part of you didn’t care.

Determination set in and that was all she wrote. Some of the moves you’d learned courtesy of being friends with the Batfam during your younger years came to the forefront with ease.

For a moment your brain flicked to a memory of Jason, Dick, Alfred, fourteen-year-old you and Bruce all in the manor’s training room.

Forcing the thought aside you focused on now.

Running toward Red you used his wide-legged stance to your advantage as you quite literally climbed up his body. Using one foot to plant against Red’s thigh your other lifted to curl over to his back. Straddling his shoulder you had a lot of room to do whatever you wanted.

Red’s one hand flew up to grip your thigh pulling at you as he stumbled back a few steps. Using the side of your fist you landed a hit on his lower back to loosen his hold on your thigh.

Having bought yourself a little time you climbed down off Red’s back as if you were hopping off a horse. Behind him allowed you readied to kick out the backs of his knees but Red was a hell of a lot faster than you.

Before you could even get close to hitting his legs Red was rounding toward you and grabbing your leg. With one quick thrust Red had you falling backward off balance.

Your back rubbed against the floor of your apartment as Red made quick work of sitting on your thighs and gripping your wrists.

Your chest heaved for breath as Red’s mask was mere inches from your nose.

The silence in your apartment was only broken by the sound of you both breathing for several moments.

Your eyes searched the glossed red helmet desperately trying for once to see what lies beneath it. Inhaling you steadied your breathing but remained still under Red for another moment.

“Not bad Y/L/N. Not bad, you had a good teacher.”

You huffed a laugh “Courtesy of more than just a couple teachers actually. I don’t know a lot, but enough to get by.”

Red shifted above you for a moment “You should consider getting back into practice. Gotham can be a dangerous place, and a lady like you needs to know more than just how to stun and run.”

You rolled your eyes “Well, you keep breaking into my place and I’ll be all practiced up.”

Red sighed behind his helmet making you laugh. Sniffling your nose to rid it of the sudden itch on its tip the scent of sweat hit you.

“Ew, dude you reek. When’s the last time you showered?”

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not nice is you smelling up my living room and forcing me to endure the smell as you continue to pin me to my floor.”

At your words, Red was immediately releasing his gentle hold and rolling up off you in one fluid movement like he hadn’t realized his actions.

Pushing yourself upright “For real though when did you last shower and sleep and stuff?”

You watched as he rubbed the back of his neck for a moment “I’ve yet to really do much besides be on the run for the last couple days.”

Your nose wrinkled “Yeah that’s gross. You need to get out of those clothes.”

“My, my doctor if you wanted to see my-“

“I swear to god if you finish that sentence I will kick you in the shin.”

Hood wisely stepped to the side of your raised leg while chuckling to himself.

“Like I was saying, I hope you have a change of clothes otherwise you have to endure a pair of scrubs. Which I know for a fact aren’t going to fit you properly.” Walking toward the double-doored closet in your living room you opened it. “I’ll wash those while you wash you.”

“Damn and here I thought you’d have good bedside manner and offer a sponge bath.”

You couldn’t fight the laugh that came from you as Red dutifully removed his leather jacket. Folding it a bit he draped it carefully over the armrest before unbuckling his thigh gun holsters.

Red continued to fist the holster “It okay if I strip in the bathroom and pass the clothes to you?”

His soft-spoken question threw you a bit off guard. For a moment the big tough Red Hood morphed into a little kid suddenly unsure and scared to do wrong.

If Red wasn’t standing with body language screaming that he was unsure about his decision you would have laughed. Nodding you gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll see if I have anything in my closet that by the gift of gods will fit you.” Motioning down the hall “Lead the way.”

Red turned stiffly on his heel and walked to the bathroom connected to your bedroom. The bathroom door cracked closed as you waited for him to strip down and quickly shove the clothes out.

You didn’t bother to tell where anything was because it was a small bathroom and he was a big boy he could figure it out.

Lifting the armful of clothes, you dumped them into the washer and returned to the bedroom to begin your search. Digging into the back of your closet you recalled having an oversized hoodie from college that you’d boughten and never used.

Clicking your tongue, you tried to think of bottoms to barrow out to Red. Slowly your brain went off track and you found yourself staring at the bathroom door.

The sound of running water and steam was all you processed for a moment. Chewing your lip, you found yourself wondering what would have the big bad smug Red Hood self-conscious.

When he’d begun stripping down you’d fully expected him to rip his shirt free and make some bad jokes or something, but what you got was not that at all.

Your lips thinned at the possibilities before you shook your mind free of them. It didn’t matter though because everyone was entitled to their secrets.

Going over to your dresser you pulled it open and drug to the bottom of the drawer hoping for a miracle. Then, just like that, the miracle happened in the form of basketball shorts that you had accidentally borrowed and never returned from a college friend.

The college friend had been a girl you’d roomed with for a semester who had a boyfriend that always stayed over. Needless to say, you’d snagged one of her manfriend’s shorts during an accidental laundry day mess.

Smiling at your surprising success you turned toward the bathroom “I’m tossing the clothes in quick.”

Throwing the clothes into the bathroom and shutting the door you went to take Red’s clothes out of the washer. Next, you grabbed the pizza box from the lab and took it to the kitchen.

Tossing the box and plating the last slice of pizza you almost felt bad for eating the whole thing earlier. Shrugging you set it down on the coffee table as you relaxed into the couch.

Grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch you snuggled onto your couch that was sadly neglecting use. Since moving in you’d barely spent time on the poor thing, it looked brand new.

Curling your legs up you got comfy as a wave of stress hit you. Always being busy meant feeling weird when you didn’t have anything to do.

As the shower cut off in the bathroom your eyes trailed to the end of your couch to the leather jacket resting there.

It wasn’t long before Red came out with your borrowed clothes and his helmet on.

A laugh broke free “Wow. Civilian clothes and working the helmet is a weird look for you.”

Red shook his head while plopping down at the other end of the couch.

“Just so you know I rigged that new security system,” Red said while motioning toward your front door “I reinforced the locks on the door. Also, I wired a camera into the main electrical of your apartment. The camera is hidden from view but at least now you won’t blindly open your front door to creeps.”

Built into the wall was a tablet-sized screen that streamed a live feed of what was just outside your front door. Your eyes watched for a moment as a few people and cars drove by before nodding in admiration.

“Nice. Thanks.”

Red hummed a response but said nothing more. Like usual that special kind of comfortable silence descended upon you. Stretching your legs out your toes almost brushed Red’s thigh.

Looking up to Red who was staring straight ahead at a blank television your brain resurrected an old memory.

The memory of being at the Wayne Manor having a movie night with Jason sitting next to him just like so. His smiling features came to you with enough clarity to steal your breath away.

Jerking your feet up against your chest you willed the image to go away. To return to the past that you seemed to never be able to outrun.

Tears burned the backs of your eyes forcing you to blink rapidly.

“Y/N!”

You jolted at the sound of your name. Red slowly came into clarity leaning toward you with one of his hands resting on your knee.

“Sorry, what?”

Red reclined back slowly “You okay? You were zoned out pretty bad.”

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Your fingers played with the soft fabric of the blanket as something dawned on you. It had been several weeks since you’d been home, which meant several weeks of Red Hood in your life.

Looking at Red you smiled at the realization. He’d wiggled into your life and had helped you do a lot lately. A constant someone without any old ties to. Someone new.

And more importantly another someone that you couldn’t picture your life without. That thought stuck you for a moment because honestly, you had no idea when that had happened.

Red was a mix of childish snide remarks, gentle encouragement, and fierceness that left you always on your toes. The longer you thought about it you realized something. Something that explained Jason’s earlier brief memory resurrection.

Your eyes scanned Red’s form again as you mentally admitted it. Red was helping distract you from the one person you never fully got over.

For better or for worse Red was becoming someone that you needed more than you cared to admit because with Red the suffocating pain that came with being back in Gotham got just a little bit easier to endure.

Taking a breath you tried to steady your racing heart and mind.

A yawn worked itself free as drowsiness suddenly hit you. Getting up from the couch you draped the blanket across Red’s lap. Walking over to the kitchen and pulling a draw open you found what you were looking for.

Fighting off another yawn you walked back in front of Red.

“Put out your hand.”

Red hesitantly did as you asked before you dropped a certain metallic item into his palm.

“Use the key and stop breaking into my place. Okay? You need a place to crash, get patched up, or hell do your laundry just come here. We haven’t known each other long, but I trust you enough to not steal any of my stuff or suddenly turn into a serial killer.” You wrung your hands nervously “Please don’t make me regret this.”

The silence that answered you for once wasn’t comforting and made your skin crawl. It hung in the room thick with so many things.

“And thanks Red.”

Without really thinking you bent slightly to place a quick kiss to the forehead area of Red’s helmet. Pulling away, your brain finally caught up with the rest of your body and you wanted to punch yourself in the face.

Turning on your heel you nearly ran toward your bedroom and clicked the door softly shut.

Climbing into bed you let yourself accept the fact that what you’d just done may have ruined the delicate friendship you’d made.

You even accepted that your help with the cure had just been sacrificed because for some unknown reason a part of you decided that that had been a good idea.

Calling yourself a boatload of colorful names you wished for the ability to turn back time. Tossing and turning in bed, sleep somehow managed to find you even amidst all the cringy self-embarrassment.

Morning sunshine cut through your closed lids forcing you awake after only a few hours of rest. Groaning, you kicked your comforter away before sitting up.

Rubbing your eyes you slowly padded from your bedroom and into the kitchen to make coffee. As the coffee machine began to brew you gazed out into your living room.

For several moments you stared blankly at the neatly folded throw blanket sitting on the cushions before you finally remembered what you’d done last night.

A loud singular curse left your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Oh, my gods. No, no, this, oh wow. Excellent job, Y/L/N. Fan-fucking-tastic. Poof, there he goes. No more help with the cure you dumb—dammit! I cannot believe I did that. Who kisses a dude’s helmet after he’s so nicely helped them? Me. I do that dumb crap and mess it all-“

Your self-ticked off rant skid to a halt when your eyes landed on the little half folded piece of paper resting next to the sink.

Cocking your head to the side you reached for it and found ink staining the inside.

Y/N,

You took off before I could say thanks last night, so I’ll do it here. Thanks for the shower and single slice of pizza. Also, thanks for the key. I’ll try to not break in anymore, wouldn’t want you to break something trying to pick a fight with me. Anyways I had to take off, but if you need me you know how to get ahold of me.

Later Doll.

The stress of having possibly made a massive mess dissipated as you reread the note in your hands. A small smile crept to your lips as you slowly set it back onto the counter.

Your phone which you had forgotten to check all night suddenly buzzed to life. Unlocking the screen, you spied more than a dozen missed texts and calls making your shoulders sag.

Reading the most recent one from Dick you were about to reply when a knock sounded at your front door.

Stepping around to answer it you checked your newly installed security screen and found Dick.

Heaving a healthy sigh, you unlocked the door and left it to swing open. Traveling back around to the kitchen you tried to get a sip of coffee into your system before the sure to be coming scolding came.

“Morning Y/N.”

“Morning Dick want some coffee?” Dick shook his head “What brings you by then?”

Dick leveled you with a look while propping himself up on your counter. “Girl, I’m going to cut to the chase, what are you doing with Hood?”

Your eyes rolled as you filled a cup of coffee “How did you even find out? You and the boys spying on me now?”

“No, but maybe we should.”

Your eyes cut to his “How about not.” Taking a sip of coffee, you hummed in content.

“As for how I know let’s just say I found out through the grapevine. I have to know though, what are you up to?”

You bushed hair from your face while quickly crumbling up Red’s note before Dick spied it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it, Y/N. You need to be careful-“

“Listen Dad Wing, I’m a big girl I got this. I don’t need to be babysat over this everything is fine. You should give Red Hood some slack too; the guy isn’t all that bad.”

Dick’s lips thinned as he shifted on his feet obviously annoyed.

“Y/N I just want you to be careful.”

“And I am.”

Your soft words did nothing to alleviate the tension in Dick’s shoulders as he stood in your kitchen. Dick was like the older brother you never had and when it came to certain things, like now, it really felt real.

When it came to his weird extended family’s safety he could be one hell of a force.

Giving him a soft smile, you reached across the counter to pat his forearm “I’ll be okay Dick. If anything happens you know I will reach out. I just didn’t say anything because it hasn’t seemed necessary.” Re-cupping your mug you blew on the hot coffee for a moment “Red is someone outside of the family that I have run into a few times and chatted with no biggie.”

Dick studied you for several heartbeats as his fingers tapped agitatedly against the counter. After a while, he exhaled “Fine. Just, I’m serious, be careful around him.”

You smiled reassuringly “Yes, sir.”

“Dork.”

Finishing up your coffee a thought struck you “How're the boys?”

“Good. I need to check on Tim later I’m pretty sure he’s been skipping sleep again just for the sake of trying to hack a certain system for Bruce.”

“And Dami?”

“Last I knew he was trying to recruit Alfred to help him convince Bruce to adopt a chinchilla.”

Your brows furrowed “What, why?”

“Apparently they found a bunch of them being illegally smuggled into Gotham the other night and Damian wants one.”

You laughed at the image of Damian fawning over yet another pet.

“Pretty soon you guys could open the Batcave and start a Batman-themed petting zoo.”

Dick snorted “I don’t think Alfred would appreciate the extra bodies to clean up after.”

The sound of a phone buzzing had you both looking to your phones. Dick silently shook his head as he quickly typed back a sort of large response.

Your brows lifted as you silently prayed for however was now dealing with Dick’s irritation.

“How’s Babs and Cass by the way?”

Dick huffed a breath before hitting send and looking back up at you.

“Um, good. Cass is a few cities over digging into a case. Babs is, uh, yeah. She’s doing well. You talked to any of them?”

You shook your head “Nope. You consider taking Babs on a date? Maybe that would-“

“I’m not going to push things. We’ll work it out but right now our schedules are too messed up to try anyway.”

You mouthed an ‘o’ of understanding. Dick and Babs had been riding the fence of on and off again for so long you never knew where they stood. Feeling like a jerk for bringing up the topic you were about to voice an apology but stopped short.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” Dick thirst a hand through his black locks before shifting on his feet “Hey, I have to run. I would invite you to come have lunch with me and the boys tomorrow, but they just want it to be us guys.”

You waved off his concern “I would have declined anyways I really need to clean this place. Go have fun though.” You rounded the counter to hug him “Talk to you later.”

Dick pulled away with a smile “Yeah. Take care.”

You waited until you were sure Dick had driven off before going to your lab. You went about starting to check the new cultures before you cleaned your place.

******** ******** ******** ******** ******** ******* ********

Across Gotham, heels clicked against craved and potholed pavement; the sound echoing off the long ago abandoned buildings.

Rain fell from the darkened sky coating a woman’s perfect physique clothed by a simple trench coat. Red hair wet with water turned a dark shade of crimson.

The sound of shuffling alerted the woman of her target.

A little kid boy about seven surfaced from under a pile of cardboard boxes that were doing a terrible job of sheltering him.

Bending down the woman smile gently “Hey there little one.”

The little boy jumped as he turned toward the lady “Whoa. Where did you-“

“What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s…it’s Mika.”

“My, what a strong and handsome name. It fits you well. Out here surviving like a big man, must be tough, huh?”

The little boy nodded as he stared at the pretty woman before him.

“Tell me Mike would you like someplace dry to stay tonight?” The boy nodded again “I thought so. I’m on my way home would you like to come with me? I can make and give you just about anything you want. How does that sound?”

The boy’s brows furrowed “Why?”

“Because a big boy like you deserves a loving home.”

“You want to adopt me?”

The hope that suddenly sparked in the child’s eyes was exactly what she’d been waiting for.

“Yes, darling.” The woman spoke with an outstretched hand.

The little boy shivered against a sudden freezing wind as he stepped closer. As the little boy’s dirt-caked hand laid in the woman’s it was like a Venus Fly Trap.

A gentle yet unyielding hold.

“Come, Mika, let’s go home.”

“Yes, Miss uh?”

“Ivy, darling. Ms. Ivy.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #redhood x reader #batman #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #what lies beneath #reader insert #reader imagine #reader interactive #reader is female

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cocoarosalia · 6 years

Text

Truth or Shot (LadyNoir)

Follow A Sister on AO3

“Chat, i don't know about this” Ladybug said eyeing the high end bottle of tequila between them and the makeshift spinner that was aimed right at her.

“What’s not to know” Chat Noir rebutted with his famous sly smile.

“Truth or shot?”

When Ladybug asked Chat to be her drinking partner this wasn’t even close to what she had in mind. And yet, she shouldn’t have expected anything less from his usual grandiose theatrics. Especially after her tearful cries to him for comfort.

And it was so stupid too. What did it matter that her boyfriend for the past 6 months suddenly just decided to up and ditch her for some skank with massive tits? Wasn’t her fault she wasn’t packing a pair of state fair, blue ribbon watermelons under her shirt. But even with that ladybug still found herself buying the biggest bottle of vodka her wallet could muster and crying to chat to drink with her until she forgot who she really was under the mask. He agreed but only on two conditions.

A) she let him buy the alcohol for the occasion (because according to him her choice was “insultingly cheap”)

B) that they drink it his way (“What’s the point in destroying bad thoughts if you can’t have a little fun”)

Had she have known that his way consisted of a russian roulette of shots and dirty black secrets she would’ve easily settled on just chugging it alone in her apartment until she passed out watching old cartoons. But that was just the effect Chat had on her. One teasing smile and a gaze into those way too sexy emerald eyes and she could follow him to the ends of the earth.

Which coincidentally happened to be at the bottom of a Don Julio bottle.

Ladybug eyed the clear bottle again. On the one hand she could just keep everything buried in the shadows and just drink to her stomach’s discontent. On the other hand was the fact that she knew she had rather loose lips once alcohol got involved. So the way she saw it it was either voluntary truth or involuntary spewing of information….

She’d rather be aware of her stupidness first-hand

“Alright kitty, what do you wanna know?”

God, she could feel her hands pricking with pins and needles as she awaited her dreaded fate. This was such a stupid idea and she knew it but she was desperate for mental escape. But what would he ask? Would he ask of her identity, her true feelings of him, something even worse? Her heart beat erratically as she stared down his alluringly green eyes. She steeled her nerves, prepared to deflect anything.

“Last tuesday when you said my new scarf looked dumb and then said you were kidding...did you actually mean that?”

Oh that’s right, this is chat we’re talking about...he’s about as deep as water poured on a glass counter

Ladybug groaned in a mix of relief and annoyance “Yes kitty I meant that. The scarf actually brought out your eyes quite nicely”

“Works for me!” He grinned with his usual boyish charm. Taking the tequila bottle by the neck he carefully poured himself a shot and tipped it back. She couldn’t contain her composure as she snorted at his face twisted in disgust.

“Now explain to me why YOU’RE the one drinking again?”

“Oh simple” he said casually “Refuse to answer, you drink. Decide to answer, I drink”

“So either way, one of us is getting smashed”

“Or both of us, depending on how the night goes”

Ladybug’s lips split into an eager smile. “Sounds fair to me” She took hold of the spinner and whipped it around “Now let’s see how far we can really go”

Unsurprisingly, the arrow landed on everyone’s favorite feline. She looked at his face for any kind of discomfort but it appeared his poker face was air tight as he balanced his shot glass on the tip of his nose.

“Well kitty?” she said, leaning back into her chair atop a cafe roof “Pick your poison”

“Ooo sexy choice of words my lady” Chat replied, still relaxed in his own chair “But for the sake of fun i’ll choose truth”

Ladybug drummed her fingers along her chin, humming absently while she thought about her question. When it finally hit her, her eager smile slid into something more devious and rather mischievous.

“What was the last thing you searched on your phone”

A flurry of giggles spilled from her lips as she watched Chat nearly fall out of his chair and directly onto his poor kitty cat ears.

“W-why do you wanna know that?” He demanded

She smirked at his clear discomfort “Because either I get to learn about all those naughty fanfics that I KNOW you read on your off time OR I get to see you squirm and down another shot”

Ladybug was really starting to turn her opinion around on this whole game of his since it meant watching the inner machinations of her poor kitty’s mind (which of course amounted to nothing more than a knocked over milk carton). Chat wracked his brain endlessly for some type of loophole out of this, but, sadly he could find none and had to concede defeat.

He straightened out his back and cleared his throat. Ladybug rolled her eyes, all of this for a silly secret. What a ham.

“The last thing I looked at were porn fics about us”

She was stunned silent. She didn’t think he’d actually admit it! She moved to blindly just pour herself a shot but then paused. What if he was lying? Even better, if he was telling the truth...just how filthy were these fics of his?

“I’d like your phone please minou” She said plainly

Chat’s eyes were as wide as the twinkling moon above them “FOR WHAT!? I told the truth”

Ladybug clicked her teeth disapprovingly “Now kitty, such an outlandish answer demands proof don’t you think?”

“Not really, no”

she swooped up his phone into her hands before he could even have time to blink “Isn’t that unfortunate for you then”

She fully expected for him to be lying, covering up something more embarrassing under something lewd and outrageous

Oh how she only wished

Pages upon pages, bookmarks beyond bookmarks of various levels of smut were plastered along his phone screen. And the worse part was that it ranged! One minute she could be glancing over a sweet intimate peace on them revealing themselves to one another and in a heartwarming flurry of emotions they would pour out their love in a beautiful show of trust and acceptance….

And the next she’s reading one where Chat has her strung up in a hotel room with a vibrator shoved up between her legs while he’s smacking her ass and she’s calling him sir and begging for more

Suffice it to say the cat was well out of its bag

Ladybug gently put the phone down with her face matching well to her suit and was instantly met with both shot glasses filled to the brim being pushed her way. She glanced up at him, considering protesting but his reply left her with nothing to combat against

“One is for me telling the truth. The other is for putting me through that humiliation”

She sighed and bravely downed both shots, the plan was to get wasted after all

Shortly after that little fiasco the pair fell into something of a rhythm. They asked about each other’s lives and families, experiences and regrets and within about 3 shots each they were pretty fucking comfortable with one another.

“Did your parents ever give you the birds and bees talk?”

“My father? Not a chance in hell. The man tossed me a ‘my body and me’ book and never looked back. Have you ever, you know, ‘walked in’ on your parents?”

“I so supremely do NOT want to relive that trauma (I still will never look at marshmallows the same ever again) so I move to drink.”

“Booo lame ladybug”

“Oh shut up you weren’t there in the fall of my 11th year”

“Was it really that bad-”

“YES IT WAS THAT BAD NOW LET ME DESTROY THE MEMORIES IN ALCOHOL”

It was about 4 more shots in and the realization that, yes, Ladybug has had a wardrobe malfunction once before (AND ON THE ONE DAY HE HAD TO TAKE OFF FOR OTHER WORK) that she began to finally feel all the booze hit her system. Suddenly the space around her began to feel hazy and warm while her suit felt itchy and too tight. Her glazed eyes peered over at chat gulping down another shot. And then, she had that thought. The kind of thought that only borderline drunks and rabid fangirls has.

Chat was stupidly attractive

Ok, obviously she’d never say he was bad looking at all but he was a FAR cry from what he used to look like when they were just plucky teenagers trying to figure out what the hell a hormone even was. He used to be nothing but skin and bone, Lithe, lanky, and in much need of a well cooked homemade meal. Not to mention his speech wasn’t much better with his sizeable collection of horrendous puns and white knight way of “courting” her. It was cute and all, maybe even charming sometimes, but she never felt anything more than a fluttering crush that would peter out under the immense weight of her puppy love crush on Adrien Agreste.

But somewhere in between their usherance into adulthood and agreeing that fucking during work time would NOT be the best use of their time, Chat decided to get all….stimulating.

I mean just a heads up that he would run off and be remodeled into the son of Adonis himself would’ve been appreciated. He grew to a dizzying 6”3 seemingly overnight, towering over her tiny frame and taking an annoying amount of pleasure from their height difference. He grew his hair out longer and was apparently hitting the gym EVERY. FUCKING. DAY cause while he wasn’t a beef cake he definitely was not the one you’d wanna fuck with in a bar fight

But on a rooftop with all her inhibitors drowned in a sea of Don Julio?

She’d fuck with him. Ohhhh She’d fuck with him goooooood.

Ladybug suddenly stood up from her seat and slowly raked her eyes over Chat’s sculpted body. He looked at her with a confused expression. ‘He has no idea, does he?’ She mused ‘That makes this even more fun’.

It was as if her body was running completely on autopilot, operating on nothing but blind desire. She sauntered her way to the other side of the table, her hips swaying to an almost exaggerated extent. She could tell that Chat was getting antsy now, his tail flicking around nervously. She was getting way too close for someone not saying a word.

So when she just plopped herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms possessively around his neck it was like the air was being knocked clean out of him.

“W-woah there cowgirl!” He sputtered nervously “I think your seat is on the other side of that table over there”

Ladybug ignored him, much to his dismay. She just pressed her body in closer, the smell of the alcohol seeping from her lips. It left his mind empty for a moment. Normally the smell of alcohol made him feel a little nauseous but with it being mixed with her cherry gum that she must’ve been chewing earlier it left him with a all too familiar tingle sitting at the meeting of his legs. She really needed to hop off him...preferably sooner rather than later.

She lifted her head from the cook of his neck and looked up at him. Damn, she was even cuter and sexier up close. Age clearly did wonders for his favorite bug. Her face still had its usual plush cheeks, dotted with freckled that looked like stars dancing across her face. And she even stayed pretty much the same height (to which he will never get over since it meant he could plop his head atop hers which, come on, who wouldn’t). But she must’ve sold her first born to Aphrodite cause when they met she was as thin as paper with the non-existent curves to match.

But now?

Now, she apparently just decided to have the body of a valley with abs of military grade steel and an ass that just refuses to quit (that he would honestly murder for). She was all the woman he could dream and drool for, powerful and athletic but still quite huggable after a bad day

And let him reiterate...she REALLY needs to hop off him

“Kitty” She sang sweetly in his ear “Let’s keep drinking”

Chat laughed nervously “I would say sure but first you’d need to be off of my lap for me to reach it and second I think you’ve had just about enough liquid courage in your system.”

She puffed out her cheeks defiantly. “Bullshit” She slurred out “I can get it my damn self! Just stay right here”

…….

“Oh this isn’t even fair”

Ladybug sat up on her knees, still nested comfortably on top of his legs and stretched herself backward to grab the bottle off the table. He had to hold on to her lower back with both hands just to keep her from falling off. Chat suddenly got a full open view of her smooth plane of stomach, delicately sculpted abs and soft peaks of breasts.

His mouth felt horribly dry, and there was really only one way he wanted to quench it

“Hah! Told you I could do it!” She exclaimed when she sat back up. Ladybug was a giggling mess, but not entirely at random. She knew what she was doing and she knew EXACTLY how it was affecting her favorite feline (These suits are obscenely thin). But she didn’t care. Chat wasn’t kidding about that liquid courage thing either, she felt like she could do anything her little heart desired. And unfortunately for his self-control that meant him.

“Congrats buginette but that still doesn’t change the fact that-”

“Chaton” She interrupted, the booze lightly clutched in her hand “Where do you go when we don’t patrol together”

He initially thought she was joking, teasing him about being unfaithful or something. Her eyes spoke to him differently though. There was a kind of mirth behind her eyes, a playfulness that gave him a feeling of high alert. This was still a game to her. But to what end? He hadn’t the slightest clue.

He attempted to laugh it off “Don’t tell me you think i’m swaying my tail for another superhero. I’m a one cat woman, Ladybug. Plus you could easily snap me in half over your knee so I’d rather not cheat on you”

He petted her head softly. If he could just lull her into passing out on his chest then he can just drop her off at her apartment and deal with his own biological problem in the comfort of his own apartment with some well written smut (Satisfaction Brought It Back, here he comes!). But Ladybug wasn’t giving in that easy.

She shook off his warm hand and started to giggle drunkenly “Someone’s a liar~” She cooed “That means that it’s BOTTOM’S UP KITTY CAT!”

Chat suddenly had the tequila bottle forced up against his lips. He swallowed down two big gulps of the burning liquid and spat out the rest. Ladybug laughed almost maniacally at his predicament.

“Christ that burns” Chat said after catching his breath “And are you insane? I’m not lying!”

Her laughing dyed down to a light chuckle “That’s not what that cute baker girl told me~”

The color that once painted his face was dyed a complete white. There’s no way she knew. He always waited at least 5 minutes before approaching her apartment. She’s just crazy! Yea...she was just being a crazy, deluded drunk…

Right?

Her lips were just a hair’s breadth away from his ear “From what I hear, you’ve been visiting that Marinette girl eeeevery night when you’re not with me”

“A-and what about you” He said defensively “It’s not like you’ve been able to keep your hands to yourself around that model Adrien….A-at least from what I’ve heard anyway”

Honestly he couldn’t care less that she was more into him as a civilian than a hero. As time wore on and they got older he realized that if she liked him one way then chances were that she’d like him the other way too. He was honestly just being a pussy about the whole thing but figured that he’d wait until she was ready. Until then he had no problem playing her mystery lover that she could visit in the dead of night. His window will always be open for her.

Ladybug hummed in agreement “Hmm that is true I do enjoy rocking his little model world whenever I can”

‘I know she’s talking about me but that salt doesn’t burn any less’

“But the way I see it” Her eyes darkened with a predatory hunger “He’s not here right now, is he?”

Chat felt like he was having an out of body experience. Ladybug, his partner in justice, woman of his heart and subsequent wet dreams was currently smacking her cherry alcohol tasting lips to his. It was all he had ever wished for in the dead of night. He had reached his nirvana!

….until his stupid conscious had to come kicking him in his leather bound tail

He let out a small whimper of regret. He could feel Ladybug just starting to poke her tongue through his lips right before he took hold of her face. He pulled her away and caught his breath. The look in her eyes set his whole body on fire, eyes foggy with wanton desire and lips tinted pink with what little kissing she could get in. Fuck, he wasn’t drunk enough for this!

“Look,” He said reluctantly “I want this, sweet merciful christ I want this so fucking bad it quite literally hurts to not have my tongue down your throat right now.” He sighed for what felt like the 15th time that night “But I am a gentleman first and I won’t take advantage of you like this. You’re drunk, possibly emotionally damaged as well, and it would honestly be scummy of me to prey on that just because I want to fuck you into the morning light. I’m taking you home, you’re gonna go to bed and we’re gonna forget any of this even happened. Plus, who knows, you might just reconcile with your ex or some sappy shit like that”

“Well that’s fucking stupid”

Huh?

Ladybug honestly looked annoyed by his impassioned speech. She put the alcohol back onto the table and wrapped her arms back around Chat’s neck. She even wiggled her butt on his lap to punish him a little.

“I don’t give a ripe, flying fuck about that dickless fuckboy.”

Chat doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say fuck so many times in a sentence….it was honestly super hot

“As much as i’ve been fucking Adrien I know he has his sights on another. So I’m currently 0-2 on getting consistent dick and it’s making me want to beat the nearest criminal till he bleeds out”

‘This feels like a one-sided conversation and I genuinely do not care’

“Now you listen here, kitty cat. I like you. Hell, I think I might even love you. Certainly enough to have been wanting to fuck you since entering college. So are you gonna let me have what I want?”

‘This night could not possibly get any better!’

He leaned in to give her everything he had and more but paused ‘Oh wait. Yes it can!’

“One question before we wake up the neighborhood”

Ladybug clicked her tongue in irritation “What now?”

Chat laughed at her eagerness and nestled in her chest “What exactly was your ex’s name anyway?”

“What does that matter?” She was getting impatient, how cute

“Because,” Chat dropped his suit and looked up at her with a dangerously playful look in his eye “Famous model Adrien Agreste wants to make sure he calls him by the right name while i’m bragging about how good i’m giving it to you”

Ladybug didn’t even bother making a show out of dropping her suit as she grabbed the tequila one last time, taking a massive swig “His name was Liam”

Adrien took it from her hands and swallowed the rest

“Let’s see if we can make you forget that”

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