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fluffy-dixon · 2 months

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Heyyy! So that's my first time writing a request so it's going to be bad. Anyway. I was thinking after an one shot or a drable,whichever one you prefer,of Daryl being realy insecure about his body and standing in front of a mirror and just judging himself(like every part of him,how he is worn down and reader needs someone better than him). And reader is 10 years younger than him so he thinks she is going to dump him for a younger guy. And at some point reader comes behind him and asks what's wrong and when she finds out she starts to reassure him he is so handsome and amazing and how she doesn't want another guy.(thats up to you but if he says something about the scars she kisses them...al of them ) so that's it. I hope you like this kind of thing❤️❤️

The Seasoned Archer

for @kkarina1311 - slight nsfw if you squint but mostly fluff

The soft glow of the bathroom light spilled out into the hallway, casting a warm rectangle on the wooden floor. Your hand hesitated on the doorknob, the faint sound of water running and Daryl’s mumbled words reaching your ears. The past few days had kept you apart—Daryl out hunting for the group, you helping with the recovery efforts in Alexandria after the whisperers’ last but final attack.

Last night, you noticed his distance, a quiet reserve that didn’t match the hours of conversation you shared when it was just the two of you. But you brushed it off; after all, you knew each other better than anyone else. Five years of trust had blossomed into something more—a love that made every moment together precious.

Now, officially together for a year, you couldn’t imagine a world without him.

Peaking around the door Daryl was in there, about to step into the shower, and something in his demeanour caught your attention. He was fully naked, his back to me, staring at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. His brow was furrowed, a solemn look fell across his face as he looked at his appearance closer, he rubbed his stubbly grey beard, shortly followed by ruffling his hands through his hair observing the now silver delicate hairs popping out between his chocolate brown existing ones. He let out a sigh rubbing the tired bags underneath his eyes. You could see the anxiety and worry that riddled through him.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside. The steam from the shower enveloped you.

“Daryl,” you said softly, you voice barely audible over the water. He jumped, spinning around to you and you saw the surprise in his eyes. Surprise, and maybe a hint of embarrassment.

“Didn’t hear ya come in,” he mumbled, reaching for a towel to cover himself. But you stepped closer, stopping him.

“Don’t,” you said, your gaze steady. “Don’t hide.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “I ain’t nothin’ special,” he muttered. “Just an old redneck with too many scars.”

“What’s brought this on?”

You moved closer, fingers brushing against his warm skin.

“Daryl, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he met your eyes. There was pain there, a raw vulnerability that tore at your heart. “I’m too old for ya,” he whispered. “You deserve better.”

Daryl’s fingers trembled, brushing against the mirror’s foggy surface. His reflection wavered, a mosaic of memories and regrets.

“You’re not just an old redneck,” you insisted, stepping closer. “You’re a survivor, a protector, and damn it, you’re my heart.”

His gaze flickered, torn between disbelief and longing. “I ain’t good enough,” he rasped. “Too many demons.”

“Demons?” You traced the lines on his chest, each scar a testament to battles fought. “These scars? They’re proof of your strength, your resilience. And your heart? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.”

Daryl’s breath hitched. “I ain’t young anymore, “I saw you with the others, they’re all more your age”

Your heart sank.

“I’m just trying to help darling. Yes, you may be 10 years older than me but what does it even matter in this world?! It literally doesn’t bother me, plus older mature whisky is much better” you winked.

He sighed.

“Daryl, listen to me.” Your voice firm, unwavering.

“I love every damn thing about you Dixon, there is no man on earth that could match what you do for me, I would be completely lost without you. My heart will FOREVER be yours. Always. I’m not going anywhere, not without you anyway”

His gaze softened, and you saw a flicker of hope.

“But—”

“No buts,” you interrupted. “I love you. Grey hairs, demons, scars, and all. I’m not going anywhere.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I ain’t good at this, Words and shit” he admitted.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “There’s no need for fancy words,” you said.

“Oh and…” you moved your head whispering into his ear, all sultry.

“…It requires a seasoned man to perform the actions to make me scream like that” you whispered, your teeth grazing your lower lip.

That was enough to tip him over the edge, Daryl encircled you, pulling you even closer, his lips found yours it was hungry and needy. Deepening the kiss his hands roamed all over your body, but you interrupted him, pulling back, arms still wrapped around his neck loosely, you spoke again,

“Daryl, you’re stuck with me” you whispered against his mouth, foreheads resting together as he panted against you.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed through the bathroom. Tears flowing down freely down his cheeks in happiness.

“I love you so much Y/N, you have no idea just how much you mean to me” his voice cracked.

“I’m eternally yours, Daryl Dixon”

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #norman reedus #twd #daryl x reader #daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader

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ja3yun · 5 months

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The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.5

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut(ish), mdni, cheating (i'm sorry), almost handjobs, heavy makeout, alcohol, serious longing, ynjake make stupid decisions, lmk if there is anything else.

wc: 4.7k+

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

a/n: hey...hi...how we all doing. listen if you hate me after this chapter I get it </3. I did leave this on a cliffhanger but the next part is the finale! i love my little pookie yn she's trying her best she just can't handle her liquor (she's so real, so me). hope you all enjoy and see you for the finale next week!

masterlist

The shower hits off your skin as you finally have time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days; seeing Jaeyun again, coming to terms with his engagement, getting forgiveness from him, and his dad’s words. It’s a lot to process. The one thing you can’t seem to understand though is his and Yeoreum’s relationship. When you first arrived it was as if everything was sunshine and rainbows with the way she was talking. Her nonchalant way of saying he got over you quickly, how they’re soulmates, but that's not what his actions are saying and definitely not what they’re argument was eluding to. Your mind scrambles to piece it all together, like, maybe it’s different because you’re here and once the wedding is over and you leave they’ll go back to the way Yeoreum painted them.

But he kissed your hand. He made all those CDs of your old mixtapes. He told you he loved you.

The warm droplets act as a blanket around you providing comfort and warmth as you run your fingers through your wet and soapy hair. Thinking about him just made more memories rise to the surface. How when you got stressed with exams he would make you take a shower with him and he would innocently wash your hair for you. His fingers would rub your scalp as if to ease the pain your brain was in from cramming so many topics in it at once. With his chest flushed against your back, he raked his hands through your hair and made sure he didn’t miss a bit. “I’m practicing. For when we’re old and brittle and have to look after each other.” He would say so casually. That was the thing about Jaeyun, he always made you feel like no matter what happened, his love for you was eternal.

You turn the shower off and step carefully onto the mat, but as a chap sounds from the door you jump and almost lose your balance. Gripping tightly onto the counter to steady yourself you curse under your breath and wrap a towel around your body. “Yes?”

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly.

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20.

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so good. If there wasn’t a bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lacey detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned. Like you had your old life back.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, or at least enough to fake it for the journey, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications.

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturday when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two baby guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom.

“I don’t know,” You desperately try to come up with an excuse as to why you won’t fuck him. It’s a boundary you can’t cross but if you tell her that you need to tell her about you and Jaeyun’s history. Your drinks are now in front of you both and you use that as the perfect excuse, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Shots. Doubles. Test tubes. Cocktails. You’re surprised you’re still standing.

The lights are blurred as you laugh at nothing, jumping around and splashing your drink on innocent bystanders along the way. Eunseo is off finding herself a suitor for the night so it leaves you on your own for a while. That is until familiar hands make their way to your hips and hold you still.

Your head slowly turns around, scared that if you go too fast you might vomit. A concerned look from Jaeyun is what you are met with as he speaks to you but with the music and your drunkenness you can’t hear him, instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle like you’re in high school again after seeing his face. “Jaeyun.” His name comes out with a laugh, “Come to dance with me?” Your head tilts, your eyes shut, and your mouth pouts.

“Y/N, come on sit down with us.” His head nods to the booth his fiance and best man are sitting at, their eyes on you both. Sober you would agree and keep your distance, but drunk you is in charge and you know fine well how that goes. She doesn’t make your life that easy.

“Baby” you whine, “One dance? Pretty please?” Your bottom lip hides your top one and Jaeyun almost falls to his knees. You’re so cute like this he could eat you up, or eat you out if he was in different circumstances. His eyes dart to Heeseung in a pleading manner and he seems to catch the gist, pulling Yeoreum to the bar for another drink.

Jaeyun gives in. “One dance, and then you’re sitting down.” His hands gently squeeze your hips like he used to when he was warning you.

“On your lap?” A smirk slips onto your face and your free hand plays with his hair.

Jaeyun blows out air and looks up to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. “No, Y/N.” He speaks to the sky before finding the courage to speak directly at you again, “On a seat.”

You were making this so difficult for him, if it wasn’t your outfit it was the reckless way you were behaving as if his fiance wasn’t just meters away. The skirt that was already short was now basically halfway up your ass and his hands longed to be placed there. You’re the bain of his existence and all his morals in this moment.

You bring your hands back to your chest, clutching the drink and downing it before throwing the plastic away and reaching up, doing some sort of dancing but to Jaeyun it’s more like one of those animal mating calls. You’re calling him to you and he’s seconds away from answering. His hands let go of your waist and hover over your arm, “Come on, let’s go sit dow-”

“You promised one dance and I have yet to see you dance Mr. Sim.” Your words slur but the tone is authoritative yet playful. Awkwardly, he grants your wish and dances with you, aware of where is appropriate to touch and what’s not but when you grab his hands to place them on your ass he squeezes impulsively, bringing you closer to him. “That’s it.” You say so innocently but it has his two heads fuzzy with need.

“Princess, we can’t dance like this.” Despite his words his hands never leave your backside. Here comes that pout again decorating your face and your eyes twinkle.

“But I’ve been a good girl.”

Oh fuck.

Jaeyun growls and squeezes your plump cheeks, the action pressing his cock against your lower abdomen. You jump a little asking for him to pick you up like you used to do and his mind is so overcome with desire for you his hands slide to the back of your thighs and hoist you up. Smiling proudly you look down at him, now slightly taller from the height he’s holding you, you lean into his neck and brush your glossy lips over his sensitive spot. Even after all these years and with more alcohol in your system than an aunt at Christmas you’re still aware of Jaeyun’s likes and wants.

Jaeyun carries you to the back of the club which was basically in pure darkness, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign and a passing strobe light. Every sensible fiber of his being is lost, the only coherent thought he has is to listen to his heart calling out for you.

He perches you up on the thin bar that’s screwed into the wall, the metal cold against your skin but at this moment you couldn’t care less. Your lips are now on his neck, kissing your way down to his shoulder and his chest rumbles with a moan. “Princess I’ve missed you so much.” His hands hold you steady, thumb rubbing against the lace on your corset.

“Missed you more.” You puff out, eyes locking onto his. “I love you”. The phrase slips out of your mouth purposefully for the first time in 4 years and Jaeyun’s eyes flash with something, something electric and his mouth is on yours quicker than lightning. His lips that you’ve craved finally find their way back home to you. “I love you so much.” You whisper, your lips always connected.

Grabbing his t-shirt you pull him in closer, scared that if you loosen your grip he’ll be gone forever. He feels your desperate touch and his tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he grinds his hips into your core. He uses your moaning as a gateway into your mouth, his tongue exploring around and coming into contact with your soft kitten licks. Just as before, a growl leaves him, kissing you so passionately and deeply. “Love you so fucking much, baby.”

His words fuel you to lose all sense of control and your hands slide down his torso to his jeans, pawing over his concealed cock. You missed Jaeyun more than anything, and god did you miss his dick and how it was tailor-made just for you.

As your hands slip into his jeans he stops kissing you and looks at you deep into your soul, begging for it, and then he really looks at you. You’re drunk, eyes glazed, you might not remember this, or worse, regret it. He's also doing the one thing he promised never to do to any woman. Cheat. His heart stops as he comes to terms with what he has to do.

“Princess, we can’t.” Reluctantly he grabs your arm and pulls it, the warmth of your palm gone, leaving his cock twitching and aching for you. You’re confused, looking between your hand and his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” The innocent question paired with your bambi eyes almost has him saying no and letting this continue but he shakes his head and holds your hand in his.

“Never. You’re such a good girl, yeah?” You smile and go to touch him again but he grabs your face with his hands, the action stopping you. “We just can’t.” You whisper a small ‘why?’ almost inaudible, “Because, baby, you’re drunk and this is complicated. I want you so much, please don’t think I don’t.” He assures you as he sees the tears fill your eyes. His lips kiss yours again and he’s playing with fire but if tomorrow you sober up and don’t speak to him again, he has to have one last kiss.

He picks you up and places you down so your feet are on the sticky club ground. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay Princess?” He whispers and turns around but your small hand is suddenly on his cheek, guiding it to face you. “What is it, love?” his hand lays over yours as he melts into your touch.

“Please don’t marry her.”

____________

A dull pain spreads across your forehead as the sun infiltrates the room rudely awakening you. There is a taste in your mouth but you can’t quite place it, it’s strange yet familiar. You don’t remember much, and what you do remember is blurry and without a timeline. There were shots, vodkas, and dancing, these are the only memories you have.

Looking around the room with squinted eyes you try to adjust to the light, it’s warm and you’re sweating which makes you feel disgusting and sticky. A groan leaves your lips and that’s when Eunseo turns to you, the first time you’ve noticed her since your sleep was disturbed. Her face is stern as her body swivels in the chair to face you.

“Good night?” She says bitterly. Oh, you’ve definitely done something wrong. Quick, think about everything, shots, too many more shots, dancing, a dark room? You shake your head to align your thoughts but nothing is coming. Eunseo scoffs and strides over to your bed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You really don’t remember?” Her tone is accusatory with a glint of sass. Now you really had to think about what she was referring to.

“Um, I remember you going to hook up with that tall guy with the pretty lips?” Maybe you could get her to speak about that instead of whatever awful thing you had done.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the hangxiety kicked in tenfold. “Think harder.” She demands, her whole body now facing you with her legs tucked under her, “When I was hooking up with the hottie?”

Think.

“I-” You had no answer for her, maybe after a couple of paracetamol and some coffee you could then hazard a guess but for now it was a distant memory buried under the alcohol that is admittedly still in your veins. “Eunseo what did I do?”

The question causes silence and the room has tension so thick not even a knife could slice through it. “Are you really sure you don’t remember?” She’s mad. Really mad.

Okay, so you got to the bar, had drinks, got drunk, danced with people, kissed Jaeyun, got in a tax-

Kissed Jaeyun.

That’s the taste in your mouth. It’s him. Dancing with him, kissing him, touching him, craving every inch of him, and Eunseo knows. She saw it.

Your rapid heartbeat is going so fast you think it’s stopped. Your face shifts from confusion to guilt and shock. “See! Now you remember! Please explain yourself.” You couldn’t. There was no excuse to be said without blurting out every detail of your life and more importantly, your life with Jaeyun.

Stuttering you look around wondering if there is any way to escape this conversation, maybe a secret passage that you can teleport from. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a way out. You had made your bed so now you have to lay in it. “Eunseo I-”

“No you know what, let me speak.” She stands up and clasps her hands together, “I can forgive you, just tell me you were so drunk you thought it was someone else, please.”

“It’s more complicated-” She cut you off again.

“I know he’s hot, okay? But to kiss my sister’s fiance like that, you don’t have any shame huh?” Her tone is spiteful as she spits at you trying to wrack up any rationality that you can muster.

“Eunseo please just listen to me.” I stand up and reach for her but she pulls away. Her demeanor is standoffish as she places her left hand on her hip. “It’s so much more than you think.”

“Oh, what? It was love at first sight? You thought it was Heeseung? Taking advantage of the fact they’re fighting?” A step forward from her has you stepping back, “Fucking tell me, Y/N because I am struggling deeply here.”

“He’s my ex.”

Her body stills, her hands laid flat in front of her as she processes your words. “Not your ex that…” she trails off thinking, her eyes following an invisible pattern on the ceiling as she tries to work it out, “Not that ex you spoke about? Surely not?”

Every inch of you wants to pretend it isn’t. Pretend that it's another fling and it means nothing to you but as you stare into your best friend's eyes you realise you can’t lie to her, not anymore.

“That ex.” You breathe out and sit down. “Eunseo, please hear me out.”

The thing about Eunseo is that she has always been understanding but as her gaze burns into yours you wonder if she’ll be so kind. Her weight sits next to you as she sighs and it’s your opportunity to speak. “When you invited me, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Jaeyun would walk in beside Yeoreum.” Your voice is pleading with her to believe you but her face remains the same so you continue, “I was so drunk last night I think instincts kicked in. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

She scoffs, “What was your plan, hm? Did you see him and go ‘oh yeah I’ll get him back easy’”

“Never. It has never been on my radar. It was the drink. I-”

Eunseo interrupts you by sticking her hand in your face, “You still love him, don’t you?” You can’t even look at her, just the swirling mix of her words and the memory of Yeoreum during her argument with Jaeyun swirling in your mind.

You nod, “Listen, I am not trying to break them up, me and Jaeyun haven’t spoken much. We’ve reconciled and that’s about it.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you wouldn’t tell her about the whispered I love you he shared when you saw him on the first night, or the mixtapes and handholding, she didn’t have to know. “I’m not breaking up this marriage.”

“Wow, so kind of you,” Eunseo scoffs, “Listen, I love you but I need you out of here.” Her tone is less venomous but still pointed. “Your relationship with him, from what Yeoreum has told me about his ex, isn’t simple. It’s deep. It’s dangerous to my sister’s happiness, and she will always be my priority.” Your best friend’s face is hard yet holds a fondness in it.

“I understand that, I wanted to leave earlier I just didn’t know when the right time was.”

“Now.” She stands up and crosses her arms as she faces you, “Now is the right time, Y/N. The longer you’re here the longer I have to worry about Yeoreum being left at the alter.”

“Eunseo he won’t-”

“Of course he fucking will, Y/N. He would leave my sister for you. That has been made perfectly clear.”

Wait. The argument Mr. Sim tore you away from, that’s what she was meaning. “What are you talking about?” You feign ignorance hoping she knows more than you do which seemingly it does. “What did he say?”

“He said enough. Look, Y/N,” She pinches her eyebrows, “I love you, and I know deep within me this isn’t your fault but please, go home. For me. For Yeoreum.”

You suck in your bottom lip to stop you from crying. If you lose Eunseo you’ll be right back to where you used to be, alone because of your own stupid mistakes. You rub your hands on your thigh and breathe out slowly, gathering your thoughts and calculating your next moves. There is animosity and hurt in the air and it breaks you. “Eunseo I-”

“I know, Y/N. But please. Don’t take Jake away from my sister.”

“What Jaeyun and I had, it’s so…” Pausing you stand and look at her, “It’s so difficult to explain. I don’t need you to forgive me, but please don’t tell anyone.” Your voice is above a whisper as you plead with her, “If you’re the only one who knows please keep it that way. He loves your sister and he is so happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted.”

A sorrow flashes over Eunseo’s face as you sob. No one in this world will understand the love between you and Jaeyun, not until they’ve experienced it themselves. You make your way around the room and gather your things, ready to leave him once again.

____

Unbeknownst to you, two doors down Heeseung and Jaeyun are having a similar conversation. You seem to be the topic of conversation the day before the wedding, just like Heeseung had warned you of.

Jaeyun is sitting on the bed Yeoreum refused to sleep in last night, his eyes tired as he tells Heeseung the details of what transpired last night. “She asked me not to marry Reum.” He breathes out slowly.

Heeseung’s body turns slowly, his eyes wide and head at a slant. His flabber has been gasted and as he looks at his best friend’s sullen look he only has one question. “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jaeyun’s voice is defensive like the answer should be obvious, but really he just wants to use this chance so Heeseung will tell him what to do. He loves you so much so that as soon as you asked him not to marry Yeoreum he almost instantly broke the wedding off. But he’s not that cruel, he knows there are too many people that will be hurt. If he really was going to call off this wedding he had to do it as respectfully as possible.

But did he even want to call off the wedding? Yeoreum needed him.

“I mean 'and' are you going to cancel the wedding?” Heeseung’s words prevent Jaeyun from answering internally. “Yeoreum isn’t exactly speaking with you right now, she was putting on a brave face in the club but look,” he gestures to the still-made bed, “She can’t even sleep in the same room as you. And you literally can’t see anything but Y/N when she’s around. I don't know what you said when you argued with her but it must have been bad.”

“I’m fucked, Hee.” Jaeyun plants his face into his hands and rubs vigorously into his eyes, trying to shake up his brain to make sense of it all. “Reum asked me yesterday after the walk if I would leave her for my ex.”

The sentence piqued Heeseung’s interest once again, and he wondered what his friend would have confessed. He doesn’t say a word, opting to slowly sit next to Jaeyun. “I-” Jaeyun starts to speak again, “I told her...” The pause is a cause of concern and Heeseung leans forward to try and make eye contact with Jaeyun.

“Jake do NOT tell me you told her you’d leave her high and dry for Y/N?” Heeseung’s hands are gripped to his knees as he holds his breath. The stillness and lack of response were enough of an indication of what happened for Heeseung to shut his eyes and sigh, “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s cold, mate.”

“I don’t fucking know, Hee. I love Yeoreum, she helped me over the past few years to finally get back to a state where I felt like part of myself again-”

“Do you love her?” Looking straight into Jaeyun’s eyes, Heeseung asks a question that has been on his mind since the moment he found out Jaeyun proposed. “Answer me this honestly, did you propose to her because you thought it would help you move on from Y/N? Or because you genuinely love her?”

Their eyes are communicating silently. That wasn’t true, he really loved Yeoreum and he wanted to marry her because they were in love, not because it felt like a fast-track way to get over you. Right? Jaeyun thinks hard.

“Let me tell you what I think.” The oldest speaks up again, “I think you asked her to marry you because you thought settling with her would make you forget about Y/N.” Jaeyun’s face scrunched up, confused by his best friend’s words.

“That’s no-”

“Answer me honestly, Jake.” Heeseung is trying his best to let Jaeyun see the truth, to finally put some sense into him. Jaeyun knows there has always been tension between his fiance and best friend, ever since they met it was like there was a wall between them no matter how many times Jaeyun tried to get them closer. But despite his quibble with Yeoreum, Heeseung wouldn’t say this for anything. And it’s not the first time he’s heard it either.

“You know I’ll support you, but you need to think about this. Think out what you truly want.”

He recalls a conversation he and his dad had with him a few weeks after he announced he was engaged.

“Son, this is pretty fast. Are you sure?” His dad kept a stoic expression and his tone of voice was stale. Jaeyun simply nodded and smiled before telling him ‘It’s what makes sense.’. With that, his dad heaved out a breath, “But is it what you want?”

“Of course it is!” Jaeyun’s voice was raised, “You don’t think I want to marry her? Why would I propose if I didn’t?” A knowing look from his father shut him up almost instantly.

“Jaeyun, listen to me seriously, marriage isn’t going to help you get over Y/N.” Jaeyun stands up. “Dad, I am over her.”

His dad shakes him by the shoulders, “You will never be over Y/N. And that’s okay, but that means this marriage to Yeoreum won’t make you forget, won’t help you the way you think it will. Seriously consider my words before this gets out of control.”

Heeseung waits for him to process his words, staying silent to give him time. He wanted nothing more than his best friend’s happiness. If you asked him a week ago, he would never have said anything, let Jaeyun go through with the marriage because at least he is somewhat content, finally living his life without you. But now that you’re back and he sees how obviously you and Jaeyun still crave one another, he needs Jaeyun to seriously think about tomorrow.

“Heeseung,” His breath catches in his throat before he utters the next words, “I need her.”

#aj writes #enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #the next chapter is...#you're either gonna love it or hate it besties

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atopvisenyashill · 9 months

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the chapter i’m on - asos sansa ii - is interesting bc it’s cited as an instance of sansa being cruel, classist, a bully, whatever, in her thoughts of arya but that is such a surface level reading it’s maddening to think people look at it that way.

sansa isn’t thinking “i’d much rather have margaery as a sister” she’s thinking around how much she grieves for arya, and her own guilty feelings over not seeing through joffrey quick enough. it’s really clear:

“how can i let my sister marry joffrey” she thinks as she’s crying, just seconds after thinking about arya and attempting to distance herself from hurtful memories. she’s not just scared for margaery, she is thinking of arya in margaery’s place. she is thinking of how joffrey hurt arya and how sansa had stood there and yelled at arya, not joffrey (which i don’t think is a failing of hers; a drunk 11 year old reacting badly to a wildly stressful situation is not a moral failing). she’s thinking about how she can’t stand there and do nothing again when she can save margaery the way she couldn’t save arya and all she has to do is speak up.

she’s just not saying it directly because she deals with stress by repressing her memories. she thinks around a stressful subject instead of naming it in her mind. thinking of arya and the possibility that she’s dead and the last time they spoke they were fighting, all of that is too painful, so instead she focuses on wanting to protect margaery.

then, with arya on her mind, she finally lets herself acknowledge some of her pain while she’s alone:

“sometimes there was even a girl who looked like arya” is the point of this chapter! she has sons to please willas but the little girl she imagines with him belongs to sansa and sansa alone. and in her dreams, that girl looks like the sister she’s lost. in her dreams, her entire family is reunited. in her dreams, she realized joffrey was a monster earlier and she saves arya and lady and nymeria from him and she gets to be the brave, noble lady of her songs.

the crazy thing is that this has happened before and people understood it then: ned does this constantly.

the most obvious one comes early and you can see clearly he does the exact same thing of thinking around who his thoughts have really strayed to:

“you can’t get your hands on this one, can you?” he is clearly thinking about jon. he is testing to see if robert has changed any over the years, if maybe jon isn’t in that much danger and ned had just discredited robert’s heart too much over the years. only for robert to rage about dany, justify the butchering of elia & her babies, and confirm all of ned’s worst fears are still true. jon will never be safe in westeros if his identity were to be known and ned made the right decision to lie all these years. it’s such an important scene in establishing ned’s character and the show does an equally good job of implying what ned is really thinking.

Beyond being an excellent masterclass in acting during this scene, it comes immediately after Ned has said goodbye to Jon and promised they’d speak of his mother when they reunite. There’s a clear link that we’re meant to make between the scene before and this one despite Ned steadfastedly refusing to think Lyanna or Jon’s names. It’s the same with Arya; we’re meant to link Sansa’s sudden terror for Margaery with her feelings for Arya.

With both Ned and Sansa, a lot of their true thoughts are in what they don’t think and not what they tell you they’re thinking. They lie to themselves and they lie to you and the “trap” is to recognize this and piece together how they really feel.

#valyrianscrolls #rani liveblogs asoiaf #sansa stark #ned stark #fathers and daughters #sisters #sansa x arya #getting on my soap box #the sun and moon in endless chase

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glorious-spoon · 5 months

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Not sure if you still post for the IT fandom but 18+reddie pretty please

Thank you! Number 18 was Ghost Towns by Radical Face, so here's a bit of established-relationship Reddie returning to Derry.

no past or future here

~800 words

Just past the Derry town line, Richie swerves the car to the right so suddenly that Eddie thinks an animal must have run out in the road. Then he brakes jerkily and guides it onto the shoulder, gravel crunching beneath the wheels. The close-growing goldenrod brushes against the passenger door as he throws it into park with a lurch.

Eddie lifts his head, blinking heavily. Usually, he drives—Richie likes to tease him for being a control-freak, but the truth is they’re both happier when Richie can fuck around on his phone and Eddie can focus on the road instead of biting his tongue on complaints about how fast Richie tends to take the turns—but he took a Xanax on the plane and he's still a little groggy.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yep,” Richie says tightly.

“You're not about to throw up, are you?”

Richie shakes his head. His shoulders heave, and he says, “No, I think I'm gonna fucking cry.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. And then, “Oh, shit, sweetheart, come here—”

Richie folds into his arms. It’s awkward with the center console between them, the cup-holder digging into Eddie’s hip, but he pays it no mind. Richie is clutching at him—shoulder, hip, the back of his head, quick frantic touches like he’s reassuring himself that Eddie is here—and his whole body shakes with sobs. It’s deeply jarring. Richie is a self-proclaimed crybaby, inclined to get teary-eyed at movies and romantic gestures and often enough during sex, but the only time Eddie has ever seen him cry like this in all the time they’ve been together was at his father’s funeral.

Just like he did then, Eddie holds him close and tries his best to hide his shock.

“Hey,” he says softly, into Richie’s hair. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, come on.”

“Yeah,” Richie says raggedly. His face is still pressed to Eddie’s shoulder; Eddie’s t-shirt is wet with tears and snot, but he’ll worry about that later. "This fucking place. Do you remember?"

"Some," Eddie admits. He's been getting bits and pieces ever since Mike's phone call. It's all still tangled up: the playground and the Barrens and the bridge with friendly phrases like suck my infected cockkk carved on it. Big Bill. Stanley. Mike and Beverly and Ben. Sepia-toned flashes of memory, all out of order. Playing Chutes and Ladders on the floor of the Denbrough house with Bill and Georgie. Standing in the funeral home in his one good suit, watching Bill stare at a tiny coffin with a blank, stunned numbness that seemed beyond tears.

There's more. He knows there's more. More, and impossibly worse.

“Something really bad happened to us here, didn’t it?” Richie asks eventually. His voice is still thick.

Eddie nods. That memory still feels slippery and shadowed, like he’s digging through dark mud to grasp at some slimy wriggling thing with sharp teeth, but it’s there. The echo of that fear. Richie’s voice, young and terrified and furious, screaming, welcome to the Loser’s Club, asshole!

“Yeah,” he says. His voice is rusty, creaking, strange. An old door hinge on an old house with something terrible underneath it.

His mind slams down on the thought nearly as soon as it surfaces, but the dread remains.

“Yeah,” Richie says. He straightens finally, wiping ineffectively at his face, and Eddie allows annoyance and instinct to override him for a moment.

“Stop that, Jesus, you’re just going to smear snot all over your hand,” he says, leaning down to root through the bag at his feet until he comes up with a packet of wet wipes, which he hands to Richie. Richie takes it, and gives him an extremely wobbly smile.

“I love you,” he says.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. “Yeah.” And then, “I don’t want to go back.”

“We don’t have to,” Richie says immediately. “Seriously. Say the word and I’ll turn around right now. We can be at the airport by three. We don’t owe this town shit.”

For some reason, even though he was just thinking exactly the same thing, that gives Eddie pause.

“Not the town,” he says, “but.”

“Them, yeah.” Richie sags back against his seat, then sets the wipes down to drag both hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Eddie says again, and this time he finishes it. “But we do have to, don’t we.”

He doesn’t phrase it as a question, but Richie nods anyway. His hands drop, flex in his lap. Eddie can see the scar on his palm—the familiar little white line that he’s run his fingers over so many times, marveling thoughtlessly at its similarity to the one on his own hand. And no fucking wonder. They both came from the same piece of broken glass. He reaches out to touch it, then brings Richie’s palm to his lips. Richie lets him do it, then cups his chin and draws him into a brief kiss that still tastes like salt.

“Okay,” he says when they break apart. “Okay.”

Eddie drops back into his seat and re-buckles his belt. Richie nods, and then turns the key, puts the car back in drive, and pulls out onto the road.

#it #reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my fic #prompt fic

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sisterspooky1013 · 6 months

Text

Gaslight, Chapter 27/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

PART FOUR

When Mulder stalks out and the door slams behind him Scully startles, and Byers squeezes her shoulders in reassurance.

“Well, that went about as well as a baptism at a whore house,” Frohike says dryly.

“It’s okay, Agent Scully,” Byers says, and she breaks away from him and walks back into the living room.

“Did you find anything yet?” she asks, scanning the surfaces around Langly’s computer. Her chest is tight and her eyes are blurring over, but she tries to distract herself with details.

“Sort of,” Langly says as he approaches and takes his seat. “We got as far as locating the database that we’re pretty sure houses the information we need, but the level of security on it is way higher than anything we’ve encountered before. We have some of the most advanced hackers we know working on it, but it’ll take time,” he explains.

“Okay,” she says with a nod, avoiding meeting any of the men’s eyes. “That’s good progress. How are you all feeling this morning?” she adds.

“Fine,” Frohike says, representing the group. “I don’t feel any different, but when I saw Mulder I just…knew him.”

“That’s good,” she says in a tight whisper. “Could you—” she starts, then pauses to clear her throat. “Could you take me back, please, Langly?” She just wants to be alone.

“Okay,” he says, stealing a glance at Byers. She can tell that they’re worried about her, but she can only manage her own emotions at the moment.

“We’ll call you as soon as we know anything,” Byers assures her.

“Thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without your help,” she says sincerely.

“Get some rest,” Frohike adds before she walks through the door into the garage.

She’s silent on the short drive back to the safehouse, and she can sense Langly’s discomfort. She bids him a brief farewell and makes her way inside, holding it together until she latches all four deadbolts behind her. She enables the security system, the final step, and then she falls apart.

The hardest part was his smell. Aftershave and toothpaste, and something metallic and earthy that stoked the fires of her deadened memory recall. The urge to touch him was so overwhelming, she’d had to fold her hands in her lap to stop herself. The cadence of his voice, the flash of his angry eyes, the way he shook his head in frustration. Like an earthquake pushing buried artifacts to the surface, memories tumbled forward unbidden, and it was all she could do to focus on the matter at hand.

She makes it to the couch and collapses in a heap, racking sobs rattling her chest and slickening her tongue. If he doesn’t believe her, what’s the point of all this? What future does she have without him? She may as well have carried on back in Ellicott City. The fabricated life that was prepared for her looks ideal compared to where she is now: alone, and afraid, and in danger.

You’re my one in five billion.

You made me a whole person.

You are my constant, my touchstone.

How could she have known that this would be even worse than living a lie? To remember with acuity how it felt to love him, to be loved by him, to understand the depth of her loss. Perhaps the people behind this really did do her a kindness. Perhaps she is the one who made the wrong choice.

Somewhere in the onslaught of tears, she falls asleep.

“What is this place?” Mulder asks, but the armed man just pushes him forward by his cuffed hands, and he stumbles to the ground.

“Mulder,” she calls out as she tries to go to him, but her own escort pulls her back and the metal on her cuffs digs painfully into her wrists.

They come to a set of glass doors and wait as their escorts request entry. The doors slide open, and she is nudged forward with the butt of a rifle against her back. As they pass through a small vestibule, a blast of warm, antiseptic air pushes her hair in all directions and it falls across her face, obscuring her vision. Someone grabs her upper arm, and she is pulled roughly away from the door and further into the building.

“Mulder!” she yells again, bending her knees and going slack in an attempt to prevent being moved to a new location.

“Where are you taking her?!” she hears him bellow, and then the sharp thwack of something striking his skull.

“Get up,” an unkind voice barks at her, and she is yanked to her feet. Her shoulder pops and a hot stab of pain lights up at the joint.

“Mulder!” she cries out again, tossing her head to the side to move her hair out of her eyes. She sees him on the ground, conscious but writhing and disoriented. “Mulder!” she screams again as they drag her away, the heels of her boots squeaking against the linoleum. “Mulder!”

She wakes with a start, her heart pounding and her ears ringing. It felt so real that she lays a hand on her shoulder, expecting it to be tender to the touch. As her heart slows, she realizes the burner phone the Gunmen gave her is ringing, and she scrambles to dig it out of her purse.

“Hello?”

“Agent Scully, are you all right? I’ve called you half a dozen times,” Byers says, part chastisement, part concern in his voice.

“Sorry, I fell asleep. What time is it?” she asks, noting that the sun has shifted in the sky, but it’s very much daytime.

“Nearly 3:00 pm,” he tells her. She almost feels guilty for wasting the day, but it’s not like she had anything productive to do anyway.

“Did you find something new?” she asks, sitting back down on the couch. She needs to use the restroom, but it will have to wait.

“No, not yet,” he says, and she feels a little pang of disappointment. “But that’s not why I called,” he continues. “Mulder came back.”

She’s so struck that she drops the phone. It slides under the couch, and she gets down on her belly and snakes her arm underneath it while yelling for Byers to wait for her. Finally, she fishes it out and puts it back to her ear.

“He came back? He’s there now?” she asks, trying to temper her own hope.

“No, we decided that it’s unwise to have him at the house as long as he still has his chip. Frohike and I are taking him to a diner, and Langly is on his way to come pick you up and take you there, if that’s all right.”

“Yes, I’ll be ready in five minutes,” she says as she stands and heads towards the bathroom.

“He’ll call you when he’s outside,” he says, and she hangs up.

She brushes her teeth, wipes away the streaks of mascara on her cheeks, freshens her makeup, and changes her now-wrinkled shirt. She looks at herself in the mirror and wonders what he sees when he looks at her. A stranger? She wishes she could recall how it felt to have him look at her with recognition. With affection. With love.

Her phone rings again and she leaves the apartment, her nerves a tangled mess.

When she enters the diner, which makes the average greasy spoon look like a Michelin star establishment, Mulder is on one side of the booth with his back to the door, and Frohike and Byers are seated across from him. Frohike looks up when she walks in, and Mulder twists in his seat to see who has arrived. His eyes flick once from her head to her feet and then he turns back to the men as she approaches.

“Hi,” she says softly when she arrives at the head of the table, unsure where to start.

He looks up at her and pushes his mouth into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Hi.”

“Mr. Spender has some questions,” Frohike says. “About the chip, specifically.”

“Okay,” she says with a nod. “What would you like to know?”

Realizing that there isn’t anywhere for her to sit except next to him, Mulder slides to the back of the booth to make space for her. She sits on the outermost edge of the bench, giving him as much space as possible though every cell in her body is reaching for him.

“Well, for starters, how did you obtain this information? I assume you didn’t stumble across the chip by accident?”

His tone tells her that he is very much still on the defensive, which is understandable. If he hasn’t had the same experiences she has, if he feels rooted in his fabricated life, this kind of news would be incredibly unsettling, and she probably wouldn’t believe it herself.

“I knew that something wasn’t right,” she begins, keeping her body facing forward while giving him intermittent glances. “I had reasons to believe that something was being kept from me, but I learned about the chip from a man who only identified himself as Alex. He was a defector of sorts who previously worked with and for the men who did this to us. He told me about the chip and its function.”

“And you believed him?” he asks, incredulous.

“I had doubts, of course, but I believed him enough to give it credence. That same night I removed the chip from my husband’s neck…or the man who I was told was my husband. It was clear by the next morning that what Alex said was true,” she tells him.

She feels his eyes on her and she turns her head to find him giving her an appraising look.

“In what way was it clear?”

She sucks in a breath.

“He described it as a feeling of blankness. He felt off, but he couldn’t say exactly how right away. As the day wore on, he realized he couldn’t remember things he’d known the night before, like what our son likes for breakfast or how to do the job he’s held for over five years.”

“I thought you said the chip erases memories, but removing it caused memory loss as well?” he clarifies, and his tone is slowly shifting from defensive to curious.

“Well, yes and no,” she says, pausing to consider the best way to explain it. “Alex said that the chip contains memories, manufactured ones that help you to accept your new life as reality. So Cal, my husband, never actually knew what Peter likes for breakfast. That information was given to him by way of the chip. And he likely never learned how to code for his job as a software developer, that was also part of the manufactured memories. So when the chip was removed, those false memories were removed with it.”

Mulder sits back, pondering.

“What about the medication?” he asks.

“To my understanding, the chip holds the new memories, and the medication helps suppress recall of the existing ones. I’m sure it’s more complex than that, but my experience was that once I stopped taking the medication, I started having vivid dreams. When I removed the chip, I started remembering during waking hours when exposed to something that triggered a memory.”

He turns his head towards her and they lock eyes for a moment. She’s back in the kitchen from her dream, lost in the depth of his evergreen irises. Her belly tumbles, her heart aches, and there is a single throb from between her legs. He makes her feel everything possible that there is to feel with just a look.

“You remembered me?” he asks with an edge of skepticism.

She nods, not trusting her voice to remain steady, and Mulder heaves a sigh and looks at his coffee cup.

“So you removed your husband’s chip?” he asks the tabletop, and Scully looks over to Frohike and Byers to confirm that they also see where this is headed.

“Yes, I did,” she says.

“I gather that you went to medical school?” he says, lifting his head.

She swallows.

“Yes, I did.”

He gives her a doubtful look.

“A doctor and an FBI agent?” he asks tartly, and she feels like she’s losing him.

“Agent Scully is a trained medical doctor,” Byers pipes in. “She was recruited into the FBI out of medical school, and her training has been helpful to your work on countless occasions,” he says sternly, and she feels a surge of gratitude for him.

“Okay,” Mulder says, acquiescing. “I guess there’s little risk, right? If you don’t find a computer chip in my neck, will you call off your cronies?” he says, giving them each a questioning look.

“We don’t have any cronies,” she says with some irritation, “and I’m very confident that I will find a chip in your neck. But if I don’t, I can promise that we won’t contact you again.”

It’s a risky bet to make, but she feels like there are no other viable options.

“Deal,” he says, holding out his hand for her to shake.

She freezes, struck by the prospect of touching him, but she doesn’t want him to read her overwhelm as hesitance. She takes his hand, and he wraps his fingers around the back of her palm, dwarfing it. His skin is warm and smooth, and she closes her eyes for a moment as she recalls how it feels against her cheek.

“Deal,” she says hoarsely.

They set up a makeshift surgery center in the Gunmen’s van outside a Walgreens. Mulder, still unwilling to trust them, asks Byers to hold a mirror up to the site of the incision so he can observe via reflection in a second mirror that he will hold in his hand. This, he tells them, will help him feel confident that if there is a chip, it came from his body.

When Scully brushes an alcohol swab over the back of his neck he shivers, and she reflexively lays her hand on his shoulder. He startles, and she pulls it away quickly, murmuring, “Try to hold still.” They wait for the lidocaine to take effect, and then she asks him if he’s ready.

“Can you lift the mirror up a bit higher?” Mulder directs Byers. “And then tilt it down a bit. There, that’s perfect.”

She can see Mulder’s face reflected in the mirror that he’s holding, and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes on the task at hand. He doesn’t flinch when she drags the blade across his skin and a bright red line of blood beads along the incision. Carefully, she goes deeper, then retrieves the forceps and a square of gauze, blotting away fresh blood and exploring the tissue beneath his scar. When she sees a silvery glint, she stops.

“I see it,” she says, stilling her hands.

“Where?” Mulder asks, his eyes flicking around as he tries to make sense of the image reflected back to him.

Scully moves to the side so Byers can bring the mirror closer. They shift around to perfect the view, and Scully rinses the area with saline to clear away the blood.

“Right there, see?” she asks, indicating the chip with the tip of the forceps.

“I think so,” he says. “Can we leave the mirrors like this while you take it out?”

She puffs a little irritated sigh, but if this is what he needs in order to believe her, then it’s worth the awkward angle she’ll have to take to extract the chip. Slowly, she nudges the chip free from the surrounding tissue, then rinses it again.

“Do you see it?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Mulder says flatly.

She steals a glance at his face in the mirror, and he looks pale and stricken. She is at once empathetic to his distress, and delighted at the prospect that he’s finally coming around.

“I’m going to place it on this square of gauze, and then you can have a closer look,” she tells him, meeting his eye in the mirror to gain his consent.

She frees the chip, wiping it onto the square of gauze before she sets them both in the center of his palm, and he examines them closely while she sutures his wound. When she’s finished, she sits back and joins the Gunmen as they all watch Mulder, waiting for his reaction.

He’s hunched over with the chip inches from his nose, and while he appears to be giving it a thorough inspection, she sees that his eyes are unfocused and vacant.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and he looks up at her with a mildly surprised expression, as though he’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he asks with childlike helplessness, and without thinking she reaches out and lays her hand over his wrist, squeezing once.

“I was hoping we could figure that out together,” she says, working to keep the maelstrom of emotions swirling around her heart and mind out of her voice.

He nods, then looks away.

They destroy his cell phone, which he’d already had the good sense to turn off, and ditch both it and the chip in a dumpster behind an adult video store. Confident that his location can no longer be tracked, they all return to the Gunmen’s to make a game plan. Frohike pours them each a shot of tequila, and she considers telling Mulder about the poker night they spent drinking the first half of the bottle, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him.

“To the truth,” Frohike says, raising his glass.

Mulder lifts his glass in a halfhearted toast, then takes several small sips. He’s been withdrawn and sullen since she removed his chip, and she desperately wants to ask him what’s on his mind. Is he remembering anything? Is he remembering her? She sees him toying with his wedding ring and realizes that she is not the woman on his mind right now.

“Hey, we got something from LiminalLurker,” Langly calls from his computer, and Scully, Byers and Frohike scurry across the room and huddle around the screen.

“Did she get in?” Frohike asks excitedly.

“Not quite, but she found a vulnerability that she has her team working on. This is the most promising lead we have so far.”

“Get in to what?” Mulder asks, and she looks back to see him still seated on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees.

“A heavily guarded database that we think belongs to the Spurious Project,” Langly tells him. “If we can get into it, we should have the keys to the whole damn kingdom,” he finishes with a mischievous smirk.

“Spurious?” he asks, and she realizes that there is still so much he doesn’t know. She isn’t sure if he’s ready to hear it.

She walks back to the couch and sits on the other end of it, leaving him an entire empty cushion as a buffer. He keeps his head down, though she sees his eyes flick over to her.

“It’s the name of the group that developed the memory manipulation program, to our understanding,” she says, and waits for him to ask questions.

He’s quiet for a few moments, continuously running his thumb across his wedding band. It hadn’t occurred to her to remove her own until the day prior, and it felt like a betrayal to bury it at the bottom of her purse, even though she knows that Cal wasn’t the one who gave it to her. If anyone on this planet is capable of understanding his turmoil, it’s her.

“Why—” he starts, and then pauses to pull in a deep breath. “Why would someone do this? Why would she—”

He stops again, shaking his head. He’s overwhelmed, she can easily see that. Part of her feels guilty for putting him through this.

“I don’t know,” she answers. “We saw or learned something that we weren’t supposed to, and this was how they chose to ensure that we wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

He sits up and runs his hands through his hair, then looks over at her.

“What did we see?”

She gives him a sympathetic smile and shrugs.

“You don’t remember?” he asks.

“No,” she tells him. “Not yet.”

The doorbell chimes, and they all look at one another.

“Check the camera, Ringo,” Frohike whispers harshly, and Langly rolls his chair over to another bank of screens.

“Looks like a door to door salesman,” he says, and Byers moves toward the door.

“Wait!” Mulder says, and they all freeze. “It could be a decoy, right?” he suggests without much confidence.

Scully feels a smile tug at her mouth. This little glimpse of him is like a balm on her heart.

“Shit, you’re right,” Frohike says.

The doorbell rings again.

“C’mon,” Frohike says with a come hither motion, and Mulder and Scully rise from the couch and follow him into the back of the house. In a messy, cluttered bedroom, Frohike throws back an area rug and tugs on a small metal ring set into the carpet. A door appears in the floor, and it becomes clear that they are meant to climb down into whatever darkness lies below. “C’mon, hurry up,” Frohike says again, urgently, and Scully descends blindly down the hatch.

The small space is dimly lit, and once Mulder makes his way down the ladder, the trap door slams shut over their heads and plunges them into pitch black. They hear the muted thump of the rug being thrown back over the door, and then Frohike’s footsteps as he leaves the room.

Scully strains her ears, but she can’t make out anything. The harder she tries to listen, the louder the ambient sounds in their little den become. The hum of something mechanical that she hopes is ventilation, the steady rush of Mulder’s breaths, and then the wet tick of his mouth opening in preparation to speak. She waits, but he doesn’t say anything.

“What?” she finally asks in the smallest whisper she can produce.

“Nothing,” he whispers back, then clears his throat.

She hears the scuff of his feet on the floor before he bumps into her, knocking her off balance. She barely suppresses a surprised squeak as she reaches out for something to grab onto, and what she ends up grabbing is the front of his T-shirt over his belly. She fists the fabric to steady herself, and he cups both her elbows in his hands for the same reason. When she is no longer at risk of falling, she reluctantly lets go, and so does he.

“I was going to say that I’m sorry,” he says softly. He’s standing so close to her that she can smell the tequila on his breath.

“For what?”

There’s a pause, and she revels in the heat of his body radiating against her, and the familiar smell of his skin.

“For not believing you,” he finally says. “And for being kind of a dick about it.”

“It’s okay,” she says sincerely. “I would hope that most people would exhibit some degree of skepticism if told by a stranger that their entire life is a well-orchestrated cover up.”

He chuckles, and she lets herself smile in the dark, teeth and all.

They hear footfalls, and wait as the rug is moved and the door is tugged open. She cringes and closes her eyes as a blast of light blinds her, then tries to feel her way to the exit. Mulder grabs her hand and leads her to the ladder, then stands back to let her go up first. She gives him a long look, but he doesn’t seem to feel anything. Not yet.

“Who was it?” Mulder asks as they re-enter the living room.

“Just some folks who wanted to tell us the good word of Jehovah,” Frohike says dryly. “But they didn’t look very godly, if you ask me.”

“You think they were looking for us?” Scully asks fearfully.

“They may have been,” Byers says. “Mulder’s chip was here long enough that they could have tracked his location. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here, Mulder.”

Mulder gives him a strange, unreadable look.

“He’s right, it’s not safe,” Scully says, backing up Byers.

“I know, I understand,” he tells them both. “It’s not that, it’s just strange that you keep calling me Mulder. It’s just—it’s not my name.”

Scully sucks in a breath. One step forward, two steps back.

“Do you have another safehouse?” Scully asks the men, and Frohike shakes his head.

“Never thought we’d need a backup,” he admits.

“Okay. Then Jeff can stay with me. If that’s okay with you, Jeff,” she says. The fake name leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Mulder considers this for a moment and then nods.

“I don’t have anything with me, clothes or toiletries,” he says.

“You can borrow some of my things for tonight, and we’ll do some shopping for you this evening,” Byers offers.

“Okay then,” Mulder says, clapping his hands together once. “We better get going.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

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smilesrobotlover · 7 months

Text

Whumptober day 15- makeshift bandages

Sorry I’m a little late, I slept in fhsksbkssbsk. Anyways this one is kinda silly, idk what I’m doing with whumptober but I’ve had this idea in my head where Legend meets the dads so here’s this silly lil thing dbsksbsksbk.

Warning for a bloody stab wound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legend stared out at the ocean, listening to the waves as they crashed against the beach he was on. He breathed in the salty breeze, several old memories flooding his mind from the smell and sounds. He had mixed feelings about the ocean. On one hand, it reminded him of the pain and loss he had to endure, but on the other hand, he had the best memories at the beach. Whenever he got overwhelmed he would try to find a beach area to unwind, occasionally humming his song…

He was lucky that he was close enough to a beach in this world. The other heroes were great, but they would always burst into arguments and overwhelm Legend. In order to keep himself from getting riled up, he’d walk away, and so he found a beautiful beach to think about all that’s happened to him. He stared out at the horizon, watching the land across from him. But something was strange about it when he really studied it. He narrowed his eyes and noticed that there was a boat traveling to where he was.

A boat?

If Legend recalled correctly, they were the only ones here. So who was on that boat? And why were they heading towards them? He stood up and watched the boat closely. He didn’t know what that was, but he might as well figure it out before it got too close. Legend took off his clothes and took a deep breath, praying that no one could see him now, and he jumped into the water. He felt the familiar magic twisting his bones around and fusing his legs together into a beautiful pink fish tail, and he pushed against the water towards the boat. When he got close he kept his distance, but stared at the bottom of the boat. He didn’t know what he was expecting, he couldn’t see the people on the boat so he didn’t know if they were a threat. He circled the boat for a little bit, finally popping out of the water to get a good look at the people onboard. He only saw one person, but from what he could tell, they weren’t a monster. Was that the puppeteer? Legend narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t see the person very clearly. Truthfully he didn’t know what the puppeteer looked like. But he was from either Sheikah, Hylian, or Gerudo from what he heard, so he should be on this boat, right?

The person Legend was watching suddenly looked at him, and Legend quickly dove back into the water, panicking. He wasn’t supposed to be seen.

Legend quickly swam underneath the boat, trying to head back to shore to report on what he saw. Just when he was out in the open, a sharp pain went through his tail, and he let out a scream. Legend sunk to the ocean floor as his tail throbbed, and he looked at it to see a spear straight through his tail. Blood was mixing in with the water, and the pain was so bad that he couldn’t move his tail. He quickly reached for the spear, trying to gather up the courage to pull it out, but the pain was too much. A shadow went over him, and Legend noticed that the boat was on top of him. They’re after him, he thought in horror. He was going to get captured and possibly tortured for information on the other heroes, or he was going to get murdered for being a mermaid or for being a hero or something. He needed to get out now, but he couldn’t move his tail, he was stuck. He turned and saw a net coming towards him, and he gasped as he was scooped off the ocean floor, his tail throbbing as he folded up in the net. The net pulled up quickly, and Legend broke the surface coughing.

“Let me go! Let me go!” He started yelling as the net pulled him closer to the boat. He weakly punched the air, trying to land a hit on his captors.

“Woah woah woah! Hey it’s ok, it’s ok!” He heard a man yell out, and he was cut free from the net and was carried out gently, which surprised Legend. Was he not a captive?

Legend let out a yelp when he slipped out of the man’s hold, and he fell to the ground harshly. He heard the man curse under his breath and he was leaned up against him.

“Nice going Rusl.”

“I didn’t think he’d be so slippery!”

“He’s part fish, what did you expect?”

“I—I don’t know! Leave me alone!”

Legend looked up at the man he was leaned up against, who he assumed was named Rusl. He had dirty blonde hair that reached to the middle of his neck, with some scruffy facial hair on his chin and an interesting mustache around his mouth. He had light blue eyes and had a gentle expression when he looked down at Legend. He frowned apologetically and rubbed Legend’s arm.

“That got you good,” he muttered, looking at Legend’s injured tail, where another man with reddish-blonde hair looked over. “How… how does it look, Leon?”

Leon gave Rusl a look before returning to his tail.

“Well, the spear went right through his tail so, I can’t imagine it’s anything good,” he answered, grabbing the spear which caused Legend to whimper. “Linebeck, look away,” he said, and Legend noticed a tall man with dark brunette hair turn away, looking nauseous. Rusl held onto Legend’s hand as Leon broke the spear in half, pulling it through his tail. Legend hissed at the pain and felt his tail go numb.

“Hey Leon, did you ever consider that doing that would cause splinters?” A very short man who looked a lot like Hyrule stepped up, staring at the broken spear concerned.

“He’ll be fine.”

“Not if he has splinters.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Legend gulped and looked at his bleeding tail, feeling dizzy from the sight as Leon put pressure on the wound. He felt the magic twisting through his legs and he groaned in pain as his tail split back into two legs. Leon yelped at the sight, throwing his red cape over Legend before continuing to deal with his legs.

“Woah,” he heard Rusl mumble at the sight. “You can turn into a… fish?”

Legend let out a pained breath, smiling at the kind man. “A mermaid.”

“I see. I’ve never heard of mermaids before…”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really a mermaid, it’s just an item that I use whenever I get into water.”

Rusl stared at him blankly, and Legend chuckled at his confusion.

“It’s weird I know.”

Rusl smiled as Leon sat up and turned behind him. “Oy, Talon,” he called out, “bring me some bandages!”

“We don’t have any bandages!” He heard the man named Talon yell back. He sounded like he was inside the boat.

“Then bring me something that can be used as a bandage for Din’s sake!”

“Ok ok, don’t cuss at me!”

Legend took a deep breath, trying not to pass out from the pain and the blood, and Rusl rubbed his arm again.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he mumbled, and Legend waved it away.

“It’s ok, thank you for taking care of me—“ Legend was interrupted when he saw a man walk up to Leon with bandages. He felt his heart stop when he nearly recognized him, and he sat up, almost hitting Rusl’s chin with his head. “T-Tarin?” He blurted out, and the man looked at him in surprise. He looked behind him and looked back with confusion plastered on his face.

“Are ya talkin’ to me?” He asked, and Legend felt disappointment and embarrassment when he realized that he was definitely not Tarin. His hair was thinning at the top, his facial hair connected all the way to his sideburns, and his blue eyes did not match Tarin’s dark brown eyes. Legend looked down, tears uncontrollably welling up.

“I-I’m so s-sorry—I thought you were someone else,” he stammered.

“Oh, it’s ok kid, no harm done,” Talon said softly, handing a shirt to Leon. While Leon tore the shirt apart and began wrapping his leg, Legend stared at Talon. He had such a kind face, and now that he was looking at him more, he was looking a lot like his uncle. A lump formed in his throat and he looked away.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” Talon asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m Link,” Legend said without thinking. He probably should’ve kept his identity a secret, but these men were all so kind that he didn’t think about it. Leon froze and looked at him intensely.

“You’re Link? Are you traveling with other Links?”

“Um…” Legend stopped himself this time. They were all looking for the group… was it smart to say yes? “I… uh… I don’t know.”

“… you don’t know?”

“Uh… well I…” Legend looked around, panic beginning to bubble up in his chest. Rusl cleared his throat and Legend looked up at him.

“We’re only asking because we’re looking for our respective Links,” he explained. “Y’see, my son is Link, and most of us here also have a son named Link, we were hoping that our Links would all be together.”

Legend narrowed his eyes. Rusl’s son was Link? Which Link was he the father to? He honestly looked nothing like them. Not to mention his ears were rounded, not pointed. Was his son Sky? Sky had very small ears, but so did Warriors, maybe Warriors was his son…

“Hey,” Leon interrupted Legend’s thoughts. “It’s a simple question, are you traveling with Links?”

“Leon he’s overwhelmed, be patient with him,” Talon muttered, and Leon sighed.

“I-I’m sorry, Link,” he muttered, and Legend smiled.

“Hey, it’s ok. Who’s your son?”

Leon sat up straight, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Um, his name is also Link… and uh… he has long blonde hair, he’s kind of braided it on one side though, and he’s very young…”

Legend hummed. “That sounds like Four.”

Leon nearly jumped up at that, causing Talon to yelp slightly.

“Four? As in the Four sword?”

“Uh, y-yes. We had to give each other nicknames so… he’s known as Four, mostly ‘cause of his eyes but also because of his four sword.”

Leon smiled slightly, then looked down. “He’s alright?”

“Last time I checked, yeah. He’s safe and sound.”

Leon sat back, running a hand through his hair, looking relieved. Legend smiled and sat up away from Rusl.

“Really, all the Links I’m traveling with are fine. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you.”

The men all made different sounds of relief at that, but Legend couldn’t help but notice the Linebeck man watching him strangely. Leon finished tying his bandages and gave his knee a pat.

“We'll take you inside, and maybe we’ll find you some clothes you can put on.”

Legend wrapped the red cape around him tighter in embarrassment. “Um… it’s ok my clothes are all on the beach.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Leon said, standing up. “Ok Linebeck you’re safe to look.”

“No, no you are not safe to look, Linebeck. There’s blood everywhere,” The short brown haired man stopped the tall man.

“Oh come on, his leg isn’t bleeding,” Leon muttered.

“There’s still blood everywhere!”

Legend chuckled at the men bantering, they reminded him of his own group. Rusl gave a small sigh and pulled Legend closer to him.

“Let me take you inside then,” he said softly. “I am… so sorry about this.”

Legend wrapped his arms around his neck as he was lifted off the ground. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault anyways.”

Legend heard the others snort.

“No it was definitely his fault,” Leon said.

“I said that I saw a mermaid,” Linebeck started up, “and Rusl wasted no time to grab a spear and chuck it into the water.”

“He was so fast I didn’t have time to process what was going on!” The short brunette chuckled.

“He has a good aim I must admit.” Legend saw a different man with strikingly blue eyes leaning against a strange bird man. “It’s not easy to throw spears into the water, I’ve definitely tried.”

Rusl looked down ashamed. “Guys, enough.”

Talon picked up on his mood and stood up. “Alright y’all, let Rusl put Link inside. Leave him alone.”

The other men stopped and Rusl quickly turned to enter the inside of the boat. Legend watched him quietly as he was settled down in a bed. Rusl grabbed some blankets and set them down on top of Legend, and before he could leave, Legend grabbed his arm.

“Hey… it’s ok,” he said firmly. Rusl stared at him for a moment but smiled.

“Get some rest. We’ll get you once we reach the beach.”

Legend nodded and watched as Rusl left the bottom deck. He sighed and laid down, happily letting himself get rest.

#idk if any of y’all remember that meme I made where the guys are all making fun of Rusl #while trauma from shooting his son with an arrow in the leg was resurfacing #yeah this is what that meme was applying to dhsksbksnsk #rip rusl #I’ve been writing him to be very impulsive/ decisive #like he just does things mostly on instinct without putting much thought into it #I mean he does put some thought into the stuff #but he’s very quick about it #he doesn’t overthink #which… honestly he might now #lol #whumptober #whumptober day 15 #whumptober 2023 #strangers across eras #link between links #lbl legend #more hint at the puppeteer :3c

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tinyletterz · 1 year

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♡ winter wonderland— [ twst ]

: winter prompts with the twst students :

♡— contains: gn! reader, fluff!!

— [ note: WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG??? AND you guys are acutely enjoying my works?! what thank you sm for 75 followers! as always, ortho is platonic, the rest can either be seen as romantic/platonic ]

heartslabyul

— riddle takes you ice skating. he skates like a professional; it’s something he enjoyed when he was younger. if you don’t know how to skate he’s going to teach you, helping you whenever you slide and fall. after skating he’s going to bring you to a cafe and bask in the warmth

— trey is rather busy during the holidays, helping his family's bakery in the winter months. he's always thankful for your help in the kitchen, delivery orders to customers, or just keeping his siblings busy.

— cater wants nothing more than to sit in front of a fire with you. listening to the quiet cracking of fire and your voices filling the room just add to the calming atmosphere. he would take a picture if he didn’t feel so comfortable with not moving, but maybe this is a memory to keep in his mind

— ace started a snowball fight with you. it turns out he’s very strategic in his plays and doesn’t just throw blindly. forts we’re built, words were said, and only one will remain victorious. despite his plans, he’s too easily caught off guard and you take the final blow

— deuce also takes you ice skating except he has no idea how. the entire time you guys are holding hands, trying to keep deuce from losing his balance. and if you can't skate wither? oh boy what a ride the two of you will go on. and if they’re are little kids who can skate better?? they will make it their life goal to teach deuce to skate

savanaclaw

— leona drags you along with him to take care of cheka. his nephew wants to go to all different shops and restaurants, but his parents were too busy. now, because leona has to suffer, you do to. but cheka's so much fun to be around, playing with the other children in the snow, buying warm cookies from the cafe for you and leona to share. all of you are bundled up warmly you don't even feel the chilly wind pass by.

— ruggie invites you to charity events to help people in need. he knows how it feels, so he wants to give extra blankets and fold his grandmother made for the people. your extra hands and conversation make the moment more meaningful

— jack brings you sledding. he is a trained veteran in the art of sledding so you’ll be perfectly safe. the moment is breathtaking as you slide down the mountain with the snow flying past. no jack’s tail isn’t wagging from happiness, it’s just really cold okay?

octavinelle

— azul is going to master the art of making hot chocolate with you. he's still new to dwelling on the surface, so there are plenty of things he's not used to. piling marshmallows on top of marshmallows, adding hints of vanilla and mint, finishing the warm drink with whipped cream. he truly enjoys seeing what concoction you brew up together.

— jade will bring you along to go hiking the snow-covered mountains. there’s so much wildlife that only blossoms when the frost arrives. of course he knows it’s cold, so he encourages you to bring layers onto of layers. while taking moments to stop he brings warm drinks and takes in the scenery with you

— floyd bought matching sweaters for both of you. they’re probably ugly sweaters too, but he thought they would look so good on you and him! he will follow you around until you wear the sweater and show you off to jade and azul

scarabia

— kalim will pull you outside with him to enjoy the early snow. as soon as he spots the first snowflake on campus he's already ready to enjoy the wintry scene with you. making snow angels, building snowmen, just simple enjoying the winter weather with you.

— jamil teaches you how to make traditional food from his culture even though he's sick. the cold got to him too quickly and despite your protest, he refuses to sit around sick and let you cook by yourself. it turns out to be a fun experience, even if you almost make a mess of the kitchen while telling jamil to get some rest.

pomefiore

— vil loves window shopping you with. seeing all the shops decorated with holiday decor, the flashing lights, the fresh smell of ginger in the air. he enjoys watching your expression when you see something displayed in the shop that caught your eye. and even though you're not "supposed" to buy something you see in the window, expect vil to purchase it for you.

— rook wants to enjoy the scenery with you by his side. it’s only once a year that the world Im has come together to help those in need, the snow falling ever so gently, and the flowers that bloom when the ground is covered in snow. such beauty, how marvelous! and he gets to enjoy the scenery with you by his side

— epel visits winter markets with you. he used to go to them with his grandparents when he was little, so he wants to bring you with him. the handcrafted jewelry, freshly baked goods, and live music for entertainment. he wants you to enjoy yourself, while showing you the places he went while growing up

ignihyde

— idia thinks this is the perfect time to binge an entire season with you. it's way too cold outside and what better than to spend the time to do something meaningful? he has snacks laying about his room so you never have to leave, the temperature is just right, all that is needed is you to say yes to his invitation

— ortho builds gingerbread houses with you. he’s interested in the architecture and creating little gingerbread people to fit inside the house. he loves decorating and playing festive music to fill the rare times of silence. 10/10 best experience and ortho would love to do it again sometime with you!!

diasomnia

— malleus is another one who just wants to roam the streets with their lights. he'll mostly take you with him at night to enjoy the lights when they are brightest. he is like a child and wants to drag you to see all the light and their designs

— lilia can and will fight you with candy canes. it is a battle to the death and he is determined to win. he's going to poke you with the point he creates with the cane and it will be a duel to the death. hopefully, you are prepared.

— silver wants to take this time to learn to knit. if he’s going to be asleep for most of the time he would at least want to have something comfortable with him. he’ll come to you and ask if what he’s making is comfortable, he’ll come to you for color and pattern designs. don’t be surprised if you find him asleep in the middle of knitting because it’s just very comfortable

— sebek needs you help with baking. he wants to create something for the entire dorm so he goes to you, the most tolerable human. and despite his loud voice and the occasional bantering, sebek enjoys himself when spending time with you

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Note

is ur requests still open? if so can i request chishiya x reader inspired from the song "i guess" by mitski?

I Guess

Sorry for the delay! Unfortunately, I'm still plodding through older requests.

Even though the song is about a break-up, I kind of took some creative license haha. Hope you don't mind! Though I can always write a break-up version instead.

Chishiya x GN Reader (1st person insert)

__________________________________________

‘I guess—’ A cough forced its way out of my lungs, blood dribbling down my chin. ‘I guess this is the end.’

‘No, it’s not.’

Chishiya’s form hovered over mine. Face pinched in focus, his hands were pressing fiercely over the bullet wound in my abdomen. We had been cornered, hiding behind a bus shelter as the King of Spades dawned on us. I had felt the blast tearing through my stomach long before I heard it. And now, every push of Chishiya’s hands sent a new wave of pain rolling through my limbs.

‘It’s no use,’ I gurgled. ‘It’s too late.’

‘It’s better if you don’t talk. You’ll only make it worse.’

‘Chishiya.’

‘I told you, stop talking.’

‘Shuntarou.’ I slid my hand over his. ‘It’s okay.’

He stilled, and I felt his fingers brush over mine, sticky with blood. His brow furrowed slightly, and although the moment vanished in an instant, I had glimpsed it. The conflict, the doubt, the loss.

‘We’ve been together for so long,’ I croaked. ‘It was bound to happen eventually.’

His eyes were dull, unreadable. ‘If you’re gone…’

‘I know.’

This whole time, we had been a pair, a team, two halves of one whole - without one, the other would be left wandering, unsure of how to live.

With the last dregs of my strength, I lifted a hand to his face, running my thumb along his cheekbone. ‘Please listen this time. You’ve always ignored me, but this time it’s different. You can’t live like this forever… people wither away when they’re alone. You’re going to have to learn how to be somebody else.’

‘That’s stupid,’ he said stonily. ‘I don’t need to.’

‘Kuina needs you. Arisu and Usagi too.’

‘Kuina’s fine on her own.’

‘Please.’ I coughed again, tasting the thick tang of blood. ‘Please just try. For me. You can’t live as an empty shell.’

Disapproval was written all over his face, but there was also a quiet acceptance there. That he would try, that there was no changing the inevitable, that this truly was the final chapter. For me, at least. The silence stretched on, still as the surface of a pond, yet deeper than the ocean at night.

The night. How many nights had I spent by his side? Lying on the rooftop, discussing different moons and their atmospheres… lying tangled in Egyptian cotton, and whispering secrets like prayers under the lamplight… sitting up into the early hours, sharing fragments of our former lives.

Those memories hurt to leave behind. They were more precious than treasure.

‘Shuntarou.’ I clutched his fingers tighter.

Although darkness was pulling at the edges of my vision, I could see his eyes searching mine. Even if he had never said it, there was no need to.

Not three words, but two.

‘Thank you.’

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no arisu #aib #chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 7 days

Note

Neato answers buddy! :D

1: What's one video game the duo would like to go into? (It must be a story game not like Minecraft or any multiplayer)

2: Let's say the starburst duo got sucked into resident evil 2 remake & had to go through the events ( Leon A, just them, & no powers) will they be able to beat it & escape?

3: What's the worst panic attack the duo ever gotten?

4: How would Jon, Chris, Kon & the super-twins cuddle together?

5: Between the super-sons, the super-twins, starburst duo, & timkon, who wins in a game of basketball? Rules: only hover a few inches above ground (if able to) first to 10 scores wins, & the group with the least amount of points get face covered up in make-up.

Aww thanks @pin-crusher2000 . these are always fun to answer XD

1) Hmmm…..Well I have been having in my mind for the longest time a sort of crossover between DC and of all things CoD Zombies so…..Maybe one night Chris and Jake find themselves awakening inside a denounce and hellish version of the infamous Alcatraz Island, crawling all over with not just the undead but also hellhounds all led by an equally demonic Warden and the Duo have their powers severely dampened. They don’t have to rely on firearms to protect themselves but the waves of undead charging at them are endless and there’s seemingly no escape. Thats when they get help from a certain voice of a girl who guides them on their little haunting adventure, explaining that ancient evil which brought these undead to life had sucked the Duo into this world to break a sort of cycle their reality was within to ensure their own dominance or reality.

The girl’s name is Samantha. She would tell Chris and Jake how all this really began

Basically The Starburst Duo in a combination of Mob of the Dead and Origins basically lol.

2) Oh definitely so. Their parents taught them very well on survival techniques for those types of scenarios where both the Dead and the Monstrous Rise and they’re left powerless. As such, them fighting alongside the lovable rookie cop that is Leon Kennedy in the world ravaged by the T Virus can seem right up their alley no matter how freaky the effects of said Virus can be like, and not just those Nemesis T Zombies

3) Chris: The one he got once a more complete picture of his memories as Lor Zod and all the harsh treatment he got from his birth father and after sending the General and his army back into the Phantom Zone, being surrounded by all those reporters and his super hearing picking up on all the sounds of suffering all over Metropolis, unable to reach his family and eventually the pressure getting so bad, he straight flew away from the sight as fast as he could and far away from everything as fast as he could. It was once he was far away enough at the other side of the globe that he managed to calm himself to an extent. It really took another whole week wandering the earth in secret and about another week and a half staying with the Graysons until Chris finally was able to approach the Kents once again.

Jake: Probably in the immediate months after he was discharged from Bludhaven General Hospital for his recovery from his fateful and haunting duel against Victor Zsasz, it’s easy to envision Jake getting increased anxiety with capers and cases involving kids like himself in grave danger or far worse. He might get the job done if it involves rescuing said kids but his mind has gone into full overdrive with panic and fear as those memories of finding those slain orphans and how cruel Zsasz was are surfacing. It usually takes his allies, friends and loved ones present to help calm him. Also of course, plenty of nightmares and bad dreams about that particular case are a lot frequent for him, especially on those first few months afterwards.

4) it’s a five person longways pile on either the living room couch or a king sized bed. Conner would be at the core with Chris to his immediate right side and Osul to his left. From there, Jon would be snoring happily next to Osul while Otho in turn is cuddled up next to Chris. Conner’s loud snoring is blissful ambiance for the younger siblings.

5) I would say it’s major tie between the Super Twins and the Starburst Duo, not simply for their power levels and ability to learn as they play. It’s moreso how well in tune those two teams really are with Chris and Jake complimenting each other’s strengths and weaknesses with both stern direction and experience. Thr Twins on the other hand have superb understanding of what the other of doing and how to follow suit given their years working side by side back on Warworld

#chris kent #jake grayson #starburst duo #osul ra #otho ra #jonathan samuel kent #connor kent #resident evil #leon kennedy #call of duty #call of duty zombies

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reztoru · 1 year

Text

───── Hard To Love

彡 You and Suguru are childhood friends spending your final moments together exploring each other and reminiscing on memories before he leaves you with a broken heart.

tw / cw : angst no comfort ,, talk of scars — not self-harm related, unhealthy relationship?¿

pairing : Geto x gn!reader

gender not specified, no physical descriptions of reader

w/c : 2.4k

The room you were in was dipped in moonlight. Glowing blue rays shifted over the items scattered around, illuminating everything in a soft, ethereal glow. A gentle breeze from the window blew the curtains, casting dancing shadows over the walls. It breathed with a sense of calmness as if the world outside seemed to be put on pause. And the silence was only broken by the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance, reminding the inhabitants that they’re not completely alone. This space is a sanctuary where one could reflect on the beauty of the night and the serenity that it brings.

“Where’d you get this one?” Suguru questioned, pointing at a scar.

“I fell when I was younger.” You smiled down at him, “the roads were awful, and I tripped over a crack.”

“Was that when we were running to the store?” he asked, tracing a little circle over it, giving you a toothy grin. “You cried like a baby, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a smack.

At the time, you both were just small kids, naïve to the dark future that is yet to arrive. Racing down the street, trying to reach the store before it closed. When suddenly, you tripped and tumbled over on the ground, hurting your knee. Suguru ended up carrying you all the way home.

That was in simpler days when your hearts were whole. You didn’t have to worry about the stresses of life and could just enjoy being kids. Your biggest worries were probably if your parents would let you have ice cream for dinner, or if you would get in trouble for staying up past your bedtime.

And looking back on it now, it was a rather fond memory. It reminded you of the changing sides of Suguru that only morphed and grew with time. Yet, over the years that you’ve come to know him, you found he’s hard to love. Because to love him is to navigate through a dense forest amid a winter storm; something that requires patience, perseverance, and a willingness to embrace the unknown.

Though there’s always been a certain allure to Suguru. Maybe it’s his enigmatic nature, or his ability to woo everyone he encountered. Or perhaps it was the fact that his mind was ever-changing, there’s always something new to discover — if he’d allow it. Nonetheless, there’s no denying that he was a fascinating person; who’s worth further exploration.

And so your fingers danced across his surface, the same way he did to you. It left behind goosebumps in its wake. He shivered as you pushed him onto his back, sitting on his abdomen. You gazed down at him, caressing his face. And oddly enough, you felt tears bubbling up — almost as if you knew what was about to transpire. You closed your eyes and leaned down to press your forehead against his.

“Are you leaving again?”

Suguru paused for a moment, rubbing circles into your hip, “Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Don’t know yet.” He knew, oh, he knew. He’d be leaving indefinitely. He wouldn’t be coming back home to you. The reality of him being the one to break your heart, after years of saying he’d keep you safe, was a reality he didn’t want to partake in. But alas, the cards he was dealt were not favourable to a domestic life with you.

You’d always think to yourself, if he was going to lie, at least do a good job. Maybe he was hoping you’d push a little more, something — anything. But it’s hard to navigate between boundaries being overstepped, and being a good ‘friend’. If only you’d have done more, said more, did more; maybe things would’ve ended differently.

But how do you reach out to somebody who was always so close in your grasp, yet never fully placed in your hand? You couldn’t force your way in, you couldn’t do anything unless he let you.

So, you watch from the sidelines as he struggles with whatever is going on inside of him. You watch as the waves of life tear him down, piece by piece. With every touch of the sullen blue waters, it seems like a piece of him is taken away. It’s heart-wrenching to see the person you love be ripped apart from the inside out. When all you can do is offer words of sympathy from the shore, hoping that he’ll find his way back to you.

But, you know he won’t come back. It was a case of the right place, wrong time. Maybe you both could’ve been something in another life, but not in this one. In this one, your love was cursed and doomed to fail. Akin to a flower next to a sprouting weed. A flower once beautiful before it festered into nothing.

You poked at his abdomen, “this one?”

“A mission went wrong, and I ended up getting wounded.”

“Oh, left you with a nasty scar, huh?” you let out a breath, looking solemnly at his face.

When you had opened your eyes, Suguru let himself get lost in your beautiful hues, hoping to find the answers he wanted — needed. Realistically, he knew they wouldn’t be there, but he had hoped they would be. His search in your orbs would always prove to be fruitless, but he’d spend an entire lifetime looking in your eyes for a place he could nuzzle into and call home.

And as his gaze landed on you, his soul screamed and clawed at his throat, begging for a reason to stay. He searched his mind for any justification to remain by your side, to continue living in this moment with you, but none could be found. No matter how much he wanted to remain with you, he knew he had to go. Not before he considered one last thing — to take you with him. To share his sombre journey and to have you be his companion in the unknown. But even that request was met with a certain stillness, and he knew his future was to be faced alone.

And there was a moment of silence before the words tumbled out of your mouth, as if you had heard the calls coming from within, “I love you.” They fell out barely above a whisper, something you wouldn’t have been able to hear at any other time of day. You weren’t aware he heard you when you whispered out your thoughts — but the thrum of his heart told you he did. You didn’t want to look at him, scared he’d disappear, so you shut your eyes again. Feeling him beneath your fingertips was enough for you; enough for now.

“You’re stunning,” he said, letting a finger run down your shoulder, “Absolutely breathtaking.”

And he looked at you as if you were the most precious gem in the world, with so much love — and regret. It left you feeling confused. You never really knew what he meant even with the simplest of words. There was always a second layer to them that had a completely different meaning.

For that reason, without a doubt, loving Suguru was an experience that left you with more questions than answers. You found yourself analyzing every word he said, trying to decipher the implications behind them. It was as if you were on a journey to explore the depths of his psyche. You wanted to trace the twists and turns of his thoughts, to draft out the labyrinth that was his consciousness, and to create a map of it that you could keep close to you. But the more you tried, the more elusive his mind seemed to become.

It was like a maze that kept changing, with fresh paths appearing where there had been none before. And as you delved deeper, you sensed a change in the air. The warmth and familiarity that you had once felt were replaced by an icy chill that seeped into your bones. Like a winter night that slowly descended into sub-zero, with each passing moment bringing a new wave of cold that threatened to overwhelm you.

Nonetheless, you let yourself fall back into him, desperate to know more.

“Where’d you get this one?” you asked, pointing at a scar on Suguru’s upper arm.

He let out a brassy chuckle, “Satoru and I got into a disagreement, and he ended up leaving me with this little guy.”

“Little? Suguru, that thing is pretty big.”

He shook his head, giving you a soft smile. You were there the day he got it — he never told you he was left with a nasty scar though, reasoned it out to him deserving it. You were ultimately the one who de-escalated the situation. With fat tears in your eyes and a loud voice, throwing snacks at them, the ones you had bought for the four of you not long prior.

A mission of yours went sideways, and you wanted to bask in the presence of your cherished friends. You had set up pillows and blankets and got everyone their favourite treats. Much to your dismay, upon return, you were met with your room in disarray. He couldn’t even remember why he and Gojo had been arguing. All he remembered was the pain he felt seeing your sour expression. He knew they had messed up — a lot, like a lot, a lot. Your room was trashed, and they may have destroyed some of your precious items in the heat of the moment.

He’s surprised you stuck around after that whole situation, albeit it took some time to forgive them. Your heart is a little too big, a little too warm, he thought. Gojo would say you’re just weak, but you’d knocked him on his ass more than enough times to say otherwise. Your triumphant smile as you placed a foot on Gojo’s back, head held high. You’d tease him for weeks about it, any time he tried getting mouthy. Suguru wasn’t immune to the onslaught, either.

“Somebody needs to knock you both down a peg,” you’d say, “and that’s why god made me. Can’t have your egos getting too big, now can we?”

During that period of youth, you all had a good going. You lived under a vast expanse of blue sky, and each breath you took was warm and comforting. These distant memories now feel like an abundance of sweet treats, cigarettes, and cold drinks. They were pockets full of lighters, youthful smiles, and the kind of laughter that fills your lungs and makes your eyes water. It seemed as if nothing could go awry.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. He knows where it went wrong; he knows when it all fell apart. The once bright and hopeful future began to dim. In the same way a flame is stagnant as it flickers and dies out. The smiles faded, the laughter became less frequent, and the warm air turned cold. And the sky was no longer an endless expanse of cerulean tones, but a gloomy grey that mirrored the sadness consuming your souls.

He lets himself come back to you. Allowing his hands to trail down your body, his orbs following along to inspect the entirety of your skin. He needed to engrave you wholly into his memory. This is a moment that he’ll cherish, for however long the world will allow him to have you.

The bittersweet reality is that he is blessed with loving you — with having you for a brief moment in time. But he won’t be able to keep you by his side with the way his life is going. He’ll have to let you go soon, and he knows. It shoots a pain through him; so until his time to go rolls around, he’ll busy himself with you.

Thus, he kissed every birthmark he found and hunted for every scar, too. He wanted to know all the stories you had to tell. Listen to your dewy voice; allow it to melt in the room. To have your entire essence consume him and hold on to every inch of his skin. So when he inevitably goes, your presence will linger with him; long after you’ve moved on.

And regrettably, that moment has arrived. His time to leave you alone to face the dawn and the endless stretch of time beyond. The relationship that you have both so carefully cultivated and tended to over the years is coming to an end, and his eyes meet yours in one last point of connection. He watches as the bond that you have shared dissolves into nothingness, leaving behind only the memories of what once was.

“I have to go now,” he mumbled.

In this position, he had the perfect view of your broken eyes. He was able to watch the heartbreak claw its way into you; digging its nails deep into your soul. He could watch as the pain snuffed out any remaining light, tearing it down and eating it away. And your eyes become glossy as you nod, giving him a half smile. He felt the warmth of your body pulling away, leaving him cold — lifeless.

As he got up and started gathering his belongings, you could see the sadness in his dark hues because the goodbye was coming too soon. He pulled you in for a final embrace; feeling as it became a little tighter; a little more desperate.

You tilted your head up to him, taking in every last second of his closeness. He leaned down to steal one last kiss — his final act of selfishness towards you. And his kiss was bittersweet, a reminder of what you were about to lose. But he held on, unwilling to let go just yet. And when he finally pulled away, you were left with the memory of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, and the sting of loss in your heart.

“Come back home, yeah?” you whispered.

Suguru pondered a moment — his movements coming to a halt. Maybe somewhere along the line, he could have also loved you and felt the same swirl of emotions that came along with it. Maybe in another life, in a different reality, you both were destined to be together. A life where death and destruction didn’t loom around every corner; where his mind wasn’t so corrupt. Perhaps in that life, he could’ve given you what you wanted, but not in this life — no. In this life, he’s regretful of the fact you had the misfortune of falling for him, because he’s a hard person to love after all. So he decides he’ll leave you with a broken heart and empty words.

#𓂃 ⋆｡°﹆ ⁞ spirit writes #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto angst #x gn reader

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vox-ex · 2 years

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one more before we go

Supercorptober Day 4 “office"

thanks to kmsdraws for the prompts

Kara helps Lena move out of her old office at LCorp before starting her Foundation.

////

Kara and Lena sit on the floor of her office, backs pressed against the wall and empty take-out boxes from a couple of their favorite places spread out between them.

It's been a long few weeks, and they both needed this. A chance just to be together. A chance to try and make sense of everything that's happened.

The room around them is bare. No more furniture. No more pictures on the walls. It's almost like it could have never existed at all. But it did, and it has seen a lot. It's seen some of their happiest moments — and their saddest.

Kara rubs her hand over a small mark on the carpet, the indent from where the legs of the couch used to sit, pressed unevenly into the surface still. It's one of the only things that would ever tell you that this room has a history. She looks around and catches a few other marks. Reminders etched into the walls like scars from too many times of almost losing Lena that Kara wishes she could hide from her memory as easily as the paint and plaster have.

But she can't. Just like everything else in this room, they're here, a permanent part of her and Lena's story. And she can't help but feel grateful in spite of it, for Lena, for the chance to be with her here at all, and for the chance at more.

Lena shifts beside her, and Kara watches the lines of her profile as she looks around the room. She can't help but wonder what Lena is thinking. If she can see the good things. If she's grateful too. Or it's too hard — the room too tainted. If she can only see what it has become in her brother's hands.

"Do you think you'll miss it?" Kara asks quietly, unsure of the question even as she asks it.

Lena just shrugs, her eyes still on the balcony window opposite them. "I don't know — In a way, I think, but this place it — " She lets out a breath, her shoulders slumping a little " — it hasn't felt like mine for a while now."

Kara nods, understanding the confliction — the pain tethered here for her.

"But still," Lena continues, finally looking at her, "I met you here."

And at that, Kara takes Lena's hand and squeezes it gently, a smile touching the corner of her mouth.

They sit in silence for a moment, each lost in their thoughts, before Kara finally speaks up again.

"We'll make new memories," Kara says, bumping her shoulder against Lena's in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Lena smiles. "I know."

But even as she says it, Kara can see something in her eyes that tells her that Lena isn't ready to let go of this place yet.

So she does the only thing she can think of. Maybe the only thing she's thought of since the first time she saw Lena in this room 4 years ago.

She kisses her.

Soft and gentle at first, letting Lena be the one to draw them closer, to kiss her back deeper.

When they finally pull apart, Kara can see the disbelief is gone from Lena's eyes, replaced with something warmer.

"Just thought you might want one more good memory here," Kara stutters shyly.

"Thank you," Lena responds, a little out of breath, her cheeks a little flushed, and her eyes alight with something that Kara knows all too well...hope.

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorptober2022 #supercorptober #sg prompts #I love two fools in love with each other

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 7 months

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Fuck it. I really like how you write Undertaker so could you please do an undertaker x reader, dealers choice? Could be fluff, le comedy, or ANGST, surprise me 💕

I apparently jump on angst when it comes to Undertaker, OOPS-

You think endless years of life and loss have shattered your lover into pieces.

Whatever else he may be, you believe the UNDERTAKER is a very, very broken man.

How long has he even been alive for, you wonder? How many people has he lost over his lifetime? Other than the vague fact of, All of them. You don’t want to be another one, but… he knows better than anyone else the cycle of life and death.

It’s simply obvious that he thought he could put a halt to it.

It’s sad to watch him, as you see him now, in this derelict church, sitting among rotted pews and jagged pieces of smashed-in stained glass. There are vines and flowers everywhere; you get the distinct sense that he doesn’t think it’s a beautiful thing.

… This whole place. It reminds you of his heart. Maybe that’s why you assume he doesn’t think it’s beautiful, because he has a very low opinion of himself by this point.

Living has eroded his self-image to nothing, like water beating a rough stone until it’s perfectly polished. You think this place is beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way.

You think he’s beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way. In a contrast to this place, he hasn’t let the new blossoms of moving on grow over him. He’s rooted himself, allowing the memories of his losses to consume him and make growth impossible.

You lower yourself next to him, and it’s telling that he barely even moves. He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t let his grip loosen a single bit on the chain of mourning lockets that are wrapped around his long nails and draped over his fingers.

God. You can only imagine what’s running through his mind.

You’re quiet as you lean your head against his shoulder. Any words you can think to say sound hollow when they ring in your skull, so you don’t say anything. You just sit, and exist next to the person you love more than anything in this world.

Finally, he’s the one to break the silence.

“It never gets better, y’ know.” His thumb runs over the locket resting in his palm. His eyes are weary, red-rimmed with the evidence of someone who’s cried until he has no tears left, and continued crying regardless.

You tilt your head with a soft hum. A request for elaboration.

The breath he takes is a gasp for air after breaking the surface of nearly drowning. “That’s what ev’ryone told me. ‘It’ll get better.’ ‘Time heals all wounds.’ ‘What do y’ think they’d want y’ t’ do?’”

His hand might crush the locket if that weren’t the very thing he’s been trying to avoid with every effort he’s made. “It’s a bunch of shite. It doesn’t get better. It never heals. An’ how the hell would anyone else know what they’d want me to do? There ain’t no movin’ past a hole in your chest that keeps gettin’ bigger and bigger, somethin’ that ain’t there but it feels so damn heavy y’ can’t get outta bed sometimes.”

He swallows, and it’s audible, and he finally turns to look at you. Fluorescent green eyes are only hidden from you by a film of tears. Suddenly, every scar you can see dotting his body makes you think he’s stitched together with nothing but memories.

As if that’s all he is anymore. A vessel for the memories of all the people he’s ever loved, instead of being the person he used to be.

“I don’t want to let go.” It’s spit out furiously, a response to a question you haven’t even asked yet. He brings the lockets close to his chest and curls into you. “They’re all gone now, (Name). My mum… my dad… the first one I loved… all the other family and friends and lovers I cared about since then…”

He looks up at you, pleading with you to understand.

“They’re gone,” he says in a voice that’s barely a whisper. “If I don’t remember ‘em… if my life goes on jus’ the same as it did before I lost ‘em… don’t that mean I didn’t actually love ‘em? But I did… I did, darlin’… jus’ like I love you.”

The way he says it makes it abundantly clear: if he thinks he didn’t love all those people, and that he didn’t love you, because he moved on after losing them, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Once again, everything you can think to say seems like a blade to shove and twist in his already gaping wounds.

So you put your arms around him, and hold his broken pieces together as best you can, and murmur a declaration that feels louder than it sounds. “I love you too, Adrian.”

#tehgreatboo #grief tw #Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Undertaker #reader insert #romantic #drama #angst #hurt/comfort #UGHHHHHHHH MY HEART IS SPILLING OVER DAMMIT!!!!#I uh - I wrote this pretty fast and surprised myself?? damn XD #one hell of a queue

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flipomatic · 1 year

Text

Say It - Chapter 1: Shine

Summary: After Yang stopped laughing, her expression softened once again. It was a look that made Blake’s heart freeze in her chest, one that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her. “I really am glad that you came tonight.” The grip of Yang’s fingers tightened minutely between Blake’s as she spoke, her tone quiet and low. Maybe a human would’ve had trouble hearing it above the music, but even with the bow Blake’s cat ears picked it up perfectly.

“Well, you did invite me.” Blake replied bluntly, ignoring the increased hammering of her heart in her chest. She considered telling her, sharing those thoughts she held so close. To tell Yang how much she appreciated the talk the other day, or how incredibly strong she thought she was. Or even to tell her about the forest and how grateful she was to have picked Yang as her partner.

Many times that Blake and Yang don’t say what they’re thinking, and one time when they do.

____________________________________________________________

The sun was setting in the distance as the day drew towards a close, casting a steadily elongating shadow of Blake’s form across the ground. Soon it would vanish as the fragmented moon rose over the school and blessed the students with its soft rays of light. Though Blake’s hand was tucked securely into the crook of Sun’s arm as she walked, her mind had already wandered far from there. It drifted towards a sun of a different sort than either of the ones present.

Blake’s mind traveled to a memory from just a couple days before, when her partner had pulled her aside to talk. It hadn’t been a conversation that Blake went to willingly, but she didn’t regret it.

With a wink and a flirty line, Yang had invited Blake to the dance. That was normal behavior for Yang. If that was all she had done, then Blake would’ve ignored it. It would’ve been easy to roll her eyes and deflect that effort to lighten the mood.

But that wasn’t all she did, not by far. What wasn’t normal was the talk preceding it, the story Yang told about her mother and her childhood. The warm hug that Yang gave her in that classroom stuck with her, along with the emotions conveyed within it. Blake learned something about Yang that day, about her immense drive but also her restraint and caring heart.

The night before the dance, Blake went to sleep early.

Now, as the sun set above and she approached the front doors of the dance hall with Sun by her side, she felt more alive than she had in weeks. The doors opened in front of them, letting light and music pour out of the enclosed space.

The two walked forward into that light together, and Blake’s eyes locked on the person standing near the entrance. Any other person might’ve looked around at the decorations, like Sun was doing, or combed the crowd for people they knew. Blake didn’t that or anything else, just looked straight ahead.

She only watched Yang, who stood behind a podium and was examining something with her eyes narrowed in concentration. She tapped her finger against the slanted surface a couple times, lips shifting in a half frown. She wore a stylish white dress that showed off her shoulders and accented the vibrant purple of her eyes.

When the sound of the doors shutting echoed into the hall, Yang finally looked up. Her eyes locked onto Blake’s, and her frown shifted immediately into a bright smile.

“Welcome to the dance!” Yang practically glowed as she greeted them, gesturing with one hand towards the dancers behind her. Blake knew that Yang only actually glowed when she used her semblance, yet it was hard to believe that she wasn’t doing so now. “Glad you could both make it!” Blake allowed her lips to quirk up as she nodded in reply.

“Thanks!” Sun responded with the same high level of energy as Yang. “The place looks great!”

Yang’s eyes left Blake to move to him. “You can thank Weiss for that, she made the final touches juuuust before it started.” Her eyes twinkled with the extended word, as if there was a joke being left unsaid.

“I think I will.” Sun lifted his head and looked around the crowd, turning back to Blake after a moment of searching. “Want to come with?”

There was something she needed to do first, something important. “You go on ahead.” Blake gently removed her hand from his arm. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“See you on the dance floor.” Sun winked, gave a half wave, and then vanished into the crowd. Blake didn’t watch him go, instead turning her attention back to her partner. Yang, who was gleefully using a pen to check something off on her podium, looked back up at Blake.

For a few seconds, silence hung between them. Or rather, only the music emanating from the dance floor carried through the air past them. Blake inhaled to speak, but the words she looked for faded before they could leave her lips. She foolishly hadn’t expected this to be difficult. “How’s the dance been going so far?” She asked an easier question instead.

“Better, now that you’re here.” Yang’s smooth reply was accompanied by a toothy smile, one that stretched across her face. She looked at ease, unbothered by the tumult of the dance she had planned going on around her.

“Did you still want to, umm…” Blake could feel her cheeks warm as she tried again to put this question together, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood what Yang said before. A worse fear flashed through her mind, sending a cold chill down her spine. What if Yang had been lying to her? She had no reason to think that, no indication that Yang had ever been anything but honest, but it had happened with others.

For a moment Yang gave her an odd look, as if she didn’t understand, before her eyes lit up with recognition. “To dance?” She asked with a smirk.

Blake fought back an unwanted and unasked for wave of relief as she nodded her reply silently. When Yang extended one hand towards her over the podium, fingers outstretched and eager, she took it without any further hesitation.

The walk onto the dance floor was only a handful of steps, but with Yang guiding her by the hand Blake hardly paid attention to them. Yang’s grip on her fingers felt steady and secure, much like Yang was as a person. She weaved them effortlessly past the moving couples until they stopped in a relatively open space.

Yang turned back towards Blake, releasing her hand and stepping close so they were less than a foot apart. She gingerly placed her right hand around Blake’s back, while offering her left one up and to the side. Blake knew how she was supposed to respond. She lifted her left hand to Yang’s shoulder and brought her other one to meet Yang’s waiting hand. Their fingers intertwined in a way they hadn’t before, with those two points of contact spreading a comfortable warmth to Blake’s chest.

As the pair started to move, to step forward and backward in time with the music, Blake eased into the patterns of the dance. Her nerves and fears from before had been unfounded, now she could just enjoy the evening and their time together. That was what Yang had told her before, to slow down and relax. Blake was starting to realize that she truly meant it.

She kept her eyes on Yang as they danced, exploring her features and searching for something; she didn’t know what. She was always watching the people around her, waiting to see how they would react and what they would do. Even now, in this calm moment, Blake’s behavior didn’t change. Her partner looked serene as they moved in a way that was so different from her usual self. She hardly looked like the same woman who could take down a whole pack of Grimm by herself. Her lips were lifted up in a soft smile, eyes glimmering in the low light of the dance hall. Yang always wore her emotions clearly visible like this to anyone who took the time to look, even if Blake didn’t always understand what she saw. Her eyes swam with emotion, practically overflowed with it. They were purple now, as they usually were, but Blake had seen them red and angry.

The first time was when they became partners, all the way back at the start of the school year. Blake had decided to hang back and watch in the forest before committing to a partnership with anybody. After how her last partnership ended up, well, she was being cautious. When she saw Yang, she watched and waited first. After seeing her search for her sister and demolish a large Grimm in the process, Blake made up her mind and hadn’t looked back.

With every passing day she was gladder that she did. Somehow, she had found a partner who would be there for her, who would fight by her side. She found someone who would offer advice when she struggled, who would be a ray of light in the darkness. To have a partner she trusted to watch her back was a new feeling, one that filled Blake with comfort and warmth.

She hadn’t told Yang yet about the forest; there was never a good time. Maybe now as they danced, maybe she could muster herself to share a bit more with the woman who shined in her life like the sun.

Yang suddenly interrupted her thoughts by pulling her hand up to spin Blake around, much faster than the song they danced to called for. She laughed as they came back together, likely at the confused look on Blake’s face. Blake couldn’t help but smile back as the pair kept dancing.

After Yang stopped laughing, her expression softened once again. It was a look that made Blake’s heart freeze in her chest, one that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her. “I really am glad that you came tonight.” The grip of Yang’s fingers tightened minutely between Blake’s as she spoke, her tone quiet and low. Maybe a human would’ve had trouble hearing it above the music, but even with the bow Blake’s cat ears picked it up perfectly.

The song carried on around them, but the words didn’t come. The treacherous fearful part of her brain hissed to pull back, to flee, to not let these feelings grow. Blake shoved that feeling down but couldn’t stifle it entirely. “Thank you.” Was all she managed to say.

“For you, anytime.” From the look in her eyes, from everything Blake knew about her, Yang seemed to mean that.

A moment later when Yang pulled back for a spin, she also released Blake’s hand. This was the end of their single dance together. The two bowed once before Yang turned and walked away, quickly replaced by Sun.

Blake took up a very similar dancing position with him, resuming her movements to the music. It was different, dancing with him, but still fun.

Even as she danced the rest of the night with Sun, she wouldn’t forget that single dance with Yang. How could she forget her partner, the reason she came to this dance at all, and the person she was most grateful to have met.

Perhaps, Blake thought as she glanced over to where the rest of her team had gathered, she had finally met the right people. Perhaps someday she’d be able to tell them.

_________________________________________________________

Despite that, or perhaps because of it, there were many times that Blake and Yang didn't say what they were thinking.

Next Chapter

#rwby #bumbleby #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby fic #flip writes #chapter 1 of what I hope to be a decent length fic #wish me luck #bumbleby fic #edit: added the line at the end #because my friend was scolding me #for having the framing device only in the summary #so now it's clearer

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