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rwprincess · 3 years

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Two Worlds Collided

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A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

#john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #fem!reader #the breakfast club #breakfast club #reader-insert #80s fanfic

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sukirichi · 3 years

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earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one,

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

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Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @riri-marley @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch | bolder users cannot be tagged

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adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual !

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense.

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for.

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically.

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water.

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out.

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however.

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again.

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly.

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly.

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening.

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features.

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes.

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly.

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

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pleasantanathema · 3 years

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Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Revelations

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of death, violence enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (ohohoho we’re so hot on it now, just wait until the end of this one)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Thank you so, so much to everyone who has left comments, screamed in reblog tags, and just encouraged me to create this story. I have never felt so much love for a fic in the time I’ve been writing.

This chapter reveals a lot, and it’s a little longer than the rest, but it’s for good reason- the end of this is one of my favorite things I’ve written.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Reiner’s apartment truly wasn’t much. You thought he’d been joking, perhaps was even being humble, but the small studio apartment was quite dismal. The walls were stark white, a few faded posters peeling off the wall from neglect, a couple of medals and trophies lining a small bookshelf that was bursting with paperbacks and notebooks. A simple bed with a royal blue comforter and overstuffed pillows, the most compact L-shaped couch in front of a tv, and a corner dominated by a desk with two monitors and stacks of documents, manila envelopes, and crates of papers crammed below.

A kitchenet that looked hardly used was tucked away in another corner, the entryway to a small bathroom right near it.

There was truly nothing worth looking twice at, save a handful of framed photos scattered around.

You’d taken it all in rather hurriedly, still out of breath from practically running through snowy alleyways, the developing snowstorm covering the land like fresh linen. There was a window near his bed, which you gravitated toward after kicking off your damp boots by the door. Not much a view, either. Just more desolate, brick buildings and a sorry looking street below.

He told you once that he didn’t grow up with much, and it unfortunately seemed like despite joining the ranks of the military, he was still left with close to nothing.

“What are we here for?”

He was busy toiling with the thermostat, thick fingers mashing against the heat button to try to warm the small box of an apartment.

“You won’t like it,” he grumbled, golden eyes glancing over to you with a tinge of regret painting his brow.

“Then why bring me?”

“Because you need to see it.”

You tucked your hands under your arms, the chill of the winter’s day finally settling into your bones.

You watched keenly as he shrugged off his snow laden jacket, hanging it by the door before promptly locking it. He seemed as out of breath as you were, nose red from the cold, hands shaking as he fumbled with his phone. You bit the inside of your cheek with impatience, a small flame of ire licking its way into your chest.

Bringing you out here could get you killed. He knew that, right? Of course he did, but he did it anyways. Surely this matter of seemingly great importance could’ve been fetched by one of his comrades. You hadn’t quite considered the danger leaving the headquarters could bring upon you until you were dashing through the streets, the heavy paw of Reiner’s hand squeezing around your wrist. At one point in time, he’d shoved you back down another corridor, shielding you with the size of his body as particular caravan of cars turned down the roadway. He seemed to fear any pair of government eyes spying you.

He always was so careless.

He was busy texting someone, still standing idle, lip worried between his teeth.

Must be the girl you ran into that’s giving him a headache. He probably thought he could slip out and back again without a soul noticing, without anyone giving him grievance, but that bright eyed little cousin of his had ruined that. She’d been so excited to see him; he probably hadn’t been to see his family quite a while, seeing that he was on guard duty after his last mission.

How many days had it been since you’d been here? You’d honestly lost track of time, your world feeling like it had been caught in a slow turn of molasses. A few seconds could feel like hours, days felt like minutes, every heartbeat felt like it could be your last. You tried to add it all up in your head, eyes closing as you replayed all the events that led to you standing in Reiner Braun’s home in Marley.

A week and a half, you surmised. But it could be a little more, a little less. You think you would have kept your eyes on the sun a little more acutely, seeing that you’d missed it rise and fall for at least two days when you were bound in that cell.

“Are you alright?”

For a moment, you thought you had spoken the words. You were thinking them, but he asked you instead.

“That’s a loaded question,” you looked back down to the street, catching the sight of a line of what appeared to be school children marching in tandem down the sidewalk, snow in their hair and happiness on their faces, “but for the moment, I’m okay.”

Reiner pulled his lips to the side, considering your words. Maybe it hadn’t dawned on him that you couldn’t have been in any state of ease since you’d been promptly abducted and plopped down in this new world to navigate.

“Are you alright?” You encored, observing how his worried thumbs were still fast against the screen.

“Have I ever been?”

You made at face at that reply, corners of your mouth turning down while your shoulders shrugged. Fair enough.

Though, for the first time, a bit of pity crept into your mind. Reiner didn’t really ask for this life, did he? He was doing whatever he could to get by, fallen rather inelegantly into the position of being sent to Paradis, and was now being handed you to watch over, presumably without his full consent. You were both pawns in this world, kings and rooks dominating the board and playing you both for fools.

Being a Scout hadn’t been your intention, either. You’d once had other dreams: college, a career, a family, but you’d been grandfathered into the role by your government working parents, and cemented into it when they’d died. You had nothing else to do, so you served. You served your country, your friends, but you also served yourself, using the role to keep your life afloat, even if it sometimes meant spilling the lifeblood of others, even if it meant sacrificing aspirations and settling. Though, you would admit that some rather beautiful things managed to bloom from the barren soil. Regrettably, those had all been left behind, washed away by tides you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” Reiner grunted, sinking into the cushions of the couch, “she—she already opened her mouth. I’ve gotten Annie to settle things at HQ, but I imagine Chief is still furious.”

“Is it such a bad thing to take me out here? I mean, you could easily stop me if I tried to run away.”

“Could I?”

You debated his question. While you were quite nimble, you’d be like a rat in a maze trying to find a way out of this god forsaken place.

“If I let you,” you reasoned, a tinge of humor behind your words.

He smiled, all warm and soft, full lips parting. The realization that you hadn’t seen him smile in years pummeled into your chest like a heavy hand stealing from your lungs. It made the sorrow that much more palpable.

“For the record, Zeke is more upset I didn’t ask permission. He’s hellbent on his authority.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You also pinpointed something else of note, a picture glinting on his nightstand catching your attention.

It resembled the same one you’d seen on Zeke’s desk, only now you could make out the faces. Reiner didn’t pay you any mind as you reached for the framed memory, plucking it from its home, dust from the back of it staining your fingers.

A red booth housed five familiar faces, all grinning over half-drank pints of beer. Their arms were interlocked around each other’s shoulders, all the men young and handsome, Reiner and Bertholdt even more youthful than when they’d first walked through the doors of the Scout Office. Then there was Zeke seated next to Porco, the latter in that green jacket you’d seen him in earlier. But your eyes were set on a face you’d never thought you’d see again, a face that possessed the very recesses of your mind, only appearing late at night when you’d see it in corners, catch it lingering behind your eyelids. He was attractive, appeared personable, messy dark hair and distinct brow that matched the boy next to him.

“Reiner…” you whispered, still unmoving from your spot between the bed and the window pane, “who is this?”

He peered over his shoulder, any hint of a smile now vanished like etchings being erased from a page.

“You don’t recognize him?”

Him, a photo full of faces, and he knew who you were asking about. He’d probably stared too long at the ghost himself. You wondered if he ever placed the frame down at night to sleep better; you would have, if you’d killed someone you cared about.

“You know I do.”

Reiner held his hand out, long arm stretched across the back of the couch. You finally talked your feet into moving, shuffling across the hardwood as you placed the offending item into his upturned palm.

Then, you sat next to him, your knees bumping together as you tried to analyze the emotions stirring within. You couldn’t quite place any of them—Regret? Fear? Curiosity? Sadness? But they were quelled when Reiner placed his hand on your twitching thigh, pressing that anxiousness away for a moment.

“Marcel Galliard, Porco’s older brother.”

Your lips parted, both of your attentions centered on the souvenir held between you.

“It was his birthday, and we hadn’t had the chance to celebrate mine and Zeke’s yet either, so we all went out for drinks. I unfortunately don’t remember much from that night, but I remember being…happy, content.”

“Why’d you do it?” you asked it a little quickly, “why would you…save me, not him?”

“I told you, some things I don’t have a choice about.”

“But you—you could’ve said he killed me and got away, right? You did have a choice.”

You saw how his jaw clenched, muscles in his cheek flexing.

“I don’t know.” Agony lined his voice, the words soft, hushed.

That situation was something you both thought about far too often than you’d like to admit, a late-night mulling that never led to conversation.

“I’m sorry.” You took the photo away, placed it face down on the coffee table.

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past,” he said solemnly.

You could, however, lament it. Which is something you did perhaps too often.

━━━─── • ───━━━

Reiner wasn’t ready for what was to come. He knew he never would be, which is why he threw precaution to the wind and decided to lay his cards on the table now.

He had to pick a side. Even if these wars didn’t truly concern him, even if the fate of countries ultimately didn’t matter to his conscious, you did—you mattered, he mattered, and he had to start thinking about things on a smaller scale.

He wanted to go back to Paradis. He practically yearned to go back in time, to return to a place where being Eldian didn’t matter, where his status didn’t matter, where he could remake himself into something new. If it hadn’t been for his binds connecting him to Marley, he could’ve actually seen hope instead of sorrow on the horizon. He could never seem to cut the vines, could never actually get away from the people controlling his life.

But now, now he saw an out, and it was with you. When this cataclysm first happened, all he wanted was for you to be dead, for you to go away and leave him and his miseries alone to rot and wither. Being with you, however, reminded him of a life he could have. He just had to make it happen, he had to start molding his own clay, had to keep bearing the weight of the world like the weary Atlas until he could find a way to make it turn in his favor.

He was tired of wishing for death.

Which is why he had to bring you here and why he would handle the consequences that were waiting in the distance.

You might not be very helpful to Marley, but he could be of use to Paradis.

“I believe you,” he hadn’t noticed he was still touching you, fingers gripping onto your leg like a lifeline, “about Zeke. I believe you because I—we, Pieck, Annie, Bertie—we know he’s up to something beyond what he tells us and the generals. He is working with someone in Paradis. We don’t know who, but we do think we know what for.”

“Oh my god…oh my god. Why didn’t you—”

“You think I can just fucking say that when anyone could be outside my door listening?”

“I thought you said I wouldn’t like what you have to show me.”

He noticed how your shoulders relaxed, like you’d been holding in tension for far too long.

“That’s not…I have something else for you.”

He didn’t move just yet, not quite ready to actually set this all in motion.

This all hinged on you. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you quite well; of course, that was the you of four years ago. The you he had next to him now was older, scarred, burdened, but he still felt that same magnetic pull to you that he could never explain. He was just a moon consigned to orbit you, to be connected to you even when neither of you desired the attachment.

He knew you were going to be upset, livid; his skin was already prickled at the thought of how you would possibly punch him if when you read what he had to give.

At least you always looked pretty when you were angry.

He could still remember how Jean had cowered undeath his desk when you’d stomped into the office after discovering he’d used the branch’s own money to play in a high-stakes poker game while undercover. He’d been fishing for information on the elites, found himself tipsy, and then found himself on the receiving end of your fury. The only thing that stopped your yelling was Erwin, who, for personal reasons, didn’t want any fuss made over government money being gambled away.

Erwin. He’d never cared for how close you were to him.

Reiner finally stood, expecting you to sit and wait, but you were following him like a shadow, small hand wrapped around his forearm as he moved to his computer. When he sat down, that hand moved up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing into his muscle with encouragement. It didn’t really put him at ease.

He turned the desktop on, the monitor flashing to life. He typed in his password quickly, then went searching for that folder he’d kept hidden away so he’d never bother to look at it again.

“Hand me one of those,” he nodded his head in the direction of a small container of flash drives on the other side of his desk. You plucked one out of its resting spot and went ahead and placed it into the port on the computer. He knew you wouldn’t question why had so many on hand—you both knew how it all worked, you both kept important documents that had to be shuffled around digitally.

Familiar names lined the inside of the folder, ones he’d once tried to forget. He heard you suck in a quick breath and took a moment to look up at you. Your brow was set, tongue obviously caught between your teeth to keep yourself from saying anything.

This was his job. He was in charge of keeping tabs on The Scouts, he was the one who fed Marley all the information they could. Well, almost all of it.

“These are files I never gave over. They’re yours now. I never gave Marley everything they wanted I…I thought I was protecting you. There’s also a few files on Zeke that Pieck created in here, too.”

You both watched as he copied the folder over to the flash drive, one by one the names and dates slowly dropping into a new safe place for them.

He touched your waist, signaling you to step back. He rolled his chair out, ducking under the desk for a split moment to gather a box of the printed documents he had actually handed over; the action was a mistake.

You were leaned over him in an instant, hand clutching and moving the mouse so quickly it scraped against the desk. He attempted to reach up and stop you, but he paused—there were still bruises on your wrist, on your fingers, faded watercolors of surviving pain. He’d gripped your hand, your wrists, all day, why hadn’t you stopped him?

He already knew which file you opened; he didn’t need to look. But he did anyways, moving the crate to the side and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. His poor heart felt like it was going to burst.

Marco Bott’s face filled part of the screen, all sweet and freckled like he remembered. Those kind eyes were looking straight at him, judging him. Reiner was just waiting, he knew what was said in there, he wrote it all, still recalled how puffy his eyes were when he did it, how much he regretted it.

There was a pregnant pause, one so heavy he felt like he was being crushed.

This all hinged on you. He needed you to help him, needed you to help you.

“I fucking knew it.”

He was already flinching, shrinking. He watched the screen scroll, the black letters and white spaces all a blur.

“Threat eliminated by gunfire, killed by organized crime members after…” you hesitated, eyes dancing as you reread the words, “after his gear was removed to ensure death.”

He was on his feet before you could hit him, backing away from your clenched fists, chair rolling to be forgotten in the corner.

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Each word came with a step toward him. He was running out of space, nearly tripping over the edge of the couch as you encroached upon him.

“What did you do?” Your voice was getting louder, pain written across your face like he’d just stabbed you. “You told me there was no fucking truth about Marco!”

“There isn’t! Marco’s dead, there’s no changing—”

“There’s no changing the past,” you mocked his words, venom dripping from your tongue.

━━━─── • ───━━━

Your blood was boiling, wrath itching between your fingers.

You were going to kill him. You were going to wind your fists around his neck and watch the life drain slowly from his eyes like he fucking deserved.

You couldn’t believe you’d let you guard down, that you’d started to trust him. You always knew something had gone awry the night Marco died. He’d been slaughtered, ransacked with bullet holes across his body. It was like he had been dropped into the line of fire, dangled out like a piece of meat to be eaten alive.

And he didn’t have his gear, that’s what stumped everyone looking into the mess of it all. It was like he had walked in unprepared, like a boy on a suicide mission walking straight to his death. Thirty-six bullets and even more empty, splattered holes littered had riddled his corpse. Jean had fallen to his knees. Connie didn’t speak for a week. Sasha didn’t eat for days.

Because of Reiner’s decision, that man suffered, you all mourned, and you felt like you most of all had let him down. Marco had been your protégé, you’d taught him everything he knew, and that was the first mission he was allowed to go on after his training. You’d been tailing a rather violent gang, found their hideout, and were infiltrating for arrests and to see what was inside. Marco had been paired with Reiner and Bertholdt to lead the first wave of infiltration, while you and the rest waited for the signal to rush the back doors to the run-down ranch not far out of the city of Trost. They’d been up ahead by the barn that was sandwiched between stables.

But your signal turned to sounds of gunfire. You could still hear it echoing in your ears as you approached Reiner. The sounds of metal clicking, of repeated blasts from automatic weapons ringing across the hillsides like single note windchimes in a raging storm.

“Tell me why.”

Your fingers were digging into his shirt before you could stop yourself, the threads of the worn Henley threatening to rip from your nails sinking into it. You could actually feel his heart beat against his chest, a frightened bird trying to flee his ribcage.

When he didn’t speak right away, your anger flared, made you shove him back against the wall with all your might. It made your arms hurt, like you’d just slammed your hands against brick, a sharp pain that made you hiss.

“He overheard us—”

“Overheard what?”

You could tell he was getting a little infuriated as well, nostrils flaring as he looked down his nose at you. It must look funny, you pressing him against the wall of his own apartment. Reiner was nearly twice your size—he was bigger than most people, and he towered over you like a looming threat.

“Let me fucking finish,” he took a deep breath, eyes nearly glazing over, “He overheard Bertie and I talking about how we should relay the details of that gang, of organized crime in general, to Marley. We—we hadn’t had time to talk alone since we’d been prepping that shit for days. We didn’t know Marco followed us around to that side of the rooftop.”

“That’s it? He heard you whispering little secrets and you killed him for it?”

One of the buttons near the neckline of his shirt popped as your knuckles dug deeper into the fabric.

“He literally heard us say that we needed to find a time to call General Magath of Marley. If he lived and told someone that—,” his breath caught for a moment when one of your nails started to pierce his skin, “it would have compromised our entire mission. We’d been there for three years, and he could’ve ruined it all.”

You were at your breaking point. You could feel that terrible heat that comes with sadness creeping up your neck, snaking around to your cheeks. If you weren’t careful, you were going to cry. All this time, all this time spent wondering why, and this was why he had to die?

Killing wasn’t unusual in your life. It was part of the job, something you’d unfortunately had to do on a few occasions. You knew those strangers who ate your bullets or your knife had families, that they were people too, but most of them were monsters, thieves, rapists, threats to the corrupted balance of the governmental structure. But Marco…he was like family, and finding his limp, almost unrecognizable body had sent even the most hardened veterans into despair. Levi took off from work the next day; the only time he had ever missed a day on the job.

“Tell me how!” You truly didn’t mean to scream it, but the emotions raging in your stomach, your chest, it all ached too much.

“Be quiet, I have neighbors—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your god damn neighbors, Reiner!”

He finally moved then, his once idle hand now jerking up to your face to fiercely hold your cheeks beneath his fingers. You tried to smack his hand away, your own fingers digging and tugging at his wrist.

“Letme-go!” Your words were jumbled, your open mouth allowing his fingers to press your cheeks in between your teeth.

“You have to be fucking quiet,” he hissed, a whole new light shining in his eyes, a familiar rage you had seen when you’d fought against him the day Paradis was invaded. The reality of how large he was sunk in again; he looked like a vengeful god peering down at you, all hot-blooded and incensed.

You thought for a moment he wouldn’t hurt you, but then you remembered he already had. He had the inclination to be just as cruel as you could be.

His fingers stayed firm against your cheeks, holding you like he was daring you to speak again.

“Tellmehow,” you managed to spit out, wincing when he took the leverage he had on your face and used it to shove you back. You stumbled, banging into the side of the couch as you rubbed at the sore flesh of your mouth.

But he was unmoving, back straight against the wall, a statue built on the foundation of wrath and agony, waiting to crack and fall onto you if you made the wrong move.

“We knew their guards were patrolling. Bertholdt covered his mouth while I stripped him of his equipment, of his guns, and I pushed him off the roof and into their sight.”

He said it so calmly that it made you sick. But that was a reality he had to live with every day, wasn’t it? He had to replay in his mind over and over again that he had done such a vile thing, he had to justify it else it would eat him alive.

Your tears were hot, but contained, your lashes blinking them aside as you just stared at him. You opened your mouth to scream at him, you were so ready to spew hatred and let it burn him, but he was quicker than you.

With one step, he was on you, your hair wrapped in his fast as he wrenched your head to the side, smarting your scalp to silence you.

“Marco’s dead, and I’m sorry for it. You fucking screaming will do nothing but have the assholes who live below me calling the authorities and you’ll find yourself in a much worse prison than before.”

You didn’t like how he was right. Still, you glared up at him, brows pinched together in pain.

It felt like you’d merged into him, those rapid hearts within your chests suddenly beating as one with the same suffering, the same torment. You both had to live with the poor reality of your lives; you were killers, you were monsters too.

You were too close to him, could smell the heat of his skin, could feel his breath against your sore cheeks. Your hands were flat against his chest, trapped between you, his arm an anchor as it tugged at the roots of your hair, keeping your face turned towards his.

You couldn’t help but look at him, there was nowhere else to focus, only on him. It was like you could see the pages of a book open across his face, wretchedness and anguish painted in broad strokes in the fair wrinkles around his eyes, in the curve of his brow. It was beauty and pain bleeding together, the amber color of his eyes swirling as he searched your own face like he was looking for something. What would he find hidden behind your own grief?

“I hate you,” you whispered, breath long gone.

“I know.”

“And I’ll never forgive you.”

It was like he was moving closer, the time you were losing now completely stopped, frozen between your bodies.

“Don’t want forgiveness,” he caught your whisper and gave it back, “just judgement.”

His lips met yours with a bruising fervor.

The hand in your hair flexed, pulled you closer, made you gasp as your hands slid up his chest. Your fingers found his rumbling throat, and in the back of your mind, you recalled how just moments ago you were waiting to snatch the life from his neck. You felt his pulse beating beneath your thumb, a war drum beating hot and fast in his veins. Your mouth was moving against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, you didn’t know. All you did know was that this felt so wrong, like you’d taken a misstep and landed right into the lion’s lap, but that it also felt like absolution, like he was devouring your sins and taking them for his own.

Your mouth slanted for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as you fell into this new, strange rhythm. You’d thought about it before, kissing him like this, feeling those plush lips against yours, angry and hot and needy. You cherished the taste of him, like a dark, rich wine filling up your mouth, spilling over and enveloping your senses. Your tongue tempted him to open his lips, to let you in. There was no hesitation.

His other hand found your hip, fingers mean and pulling you impossibly closer. Your palms drifted up from his neck, found his face, thumbs smoothing over cheekbones. You could feel the soft hairs of his cheeks, his chin, sweeping against your skin. It all felt too good, like you were getting lost, delirium taking over. Nothing else mattered anymore, just the gratification of tasting his emotions, of taking his groans into your mouth and echoing them back. You pressed harder into him, kept your tongue tangled with his, noses brushing as you found new beats to your rhythm.

It was wicked, sinful, something your heart was pleading for and your mind screaming out against. But you couldn’t stop. You didn’t stop. It was as if you kissed for as long as you’d known each other. Every year passed by, every regret, every sharp turn of your tongues against one another, all the hurt and longing, placed into one moment of your bodies finding one another.

When the heat began to die, you were both still stroking the flames, deep, languid kisses turned into smaller presses of your lips against one another. It was intoxicating and you felt so drunk, so, so drunk off of him.

There was a stillness between you, like the gentle sigh and breaths of the world as it awoke to the morning sun when you finally stopped. A lulling peacefulness lingered in the wake of what you’d done.

His hands were still on your body, in your hair, looser now. Yours were still on his face when your eyes fluttered open.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, lips plump, wet.

“I know.”

Next Chapter

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #snk reiner #snk reiner braun #AoT #aot reiner #aot reiner braun #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner x you #reiner braun x you

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zombryz · 3 years

Text

★ needy ★ a Frieza story

This is based on a request I got from an Anon - “ Do you think you can do a Frieza X Reader where Frieza feels more comfortable about being around the reader so much that he gets a bit clingy towards the reader?“

This will be a multi-part series. Oh how I do love Lord Frieza ♡

TW - mentions of anxiety, kidnapping

“Yo!” You hear a familiar voice from behind you. You spin on your heel to find none other than the tall and hunky saiyan himself, Goku.

“Hi Goku! How are you?” You smiled sweetly at him. He’s been your friend for quite some time now and you’ve gotten used to having him around. His face always lights up when he sees you, as you have a way with people, in this case saiyans. Both him and Vegeta had a soft spot for you and they never really understood why. They eventually just gave in and would do whatever you asked of them, being completely wrapped around your finger.

“I’m great! You ready to do this?” He smirked, making a hmph noise before cracking his knuckles and furrowing his eyebrows downward showing that he meant business. You had invited him over today because you were moving into capsule Corp. He was in charge of moving all your big, heavy furniture. Bulma requested you move in a few months ago but after the whole ‘Beerus almost destroying the world’ thing you decided it might be a good idea to go ahead and finally move in. That way you would always be kept in the loop. You were Bulma’s best friend and you were always babysitting the boys anyways so why not just move in?

“Where do you want this?” Goku questioned holding your whole couch under one arm.

“Um, you can just put it in the loft! Thanks, Goku!” You replied with a kind smile causing his cheeks to turn rosy. You knew that he would do anything for you so you decided to return the favor by always being sweet to him. Everyone around here always called him an idiot and you didn’t feel that he was deserving of that.

He had moved everything into your apartment so quickly without even breaking a sweat. Goku walked back down the stairs dusting off his hands as if it was the easiest task the saiyan has ever had to do. You were so thankful to have him in your life.

“Gosh, thanks Goku. What would I do without you?” You reached up to ruffle his hair causing him to chuckle while he scratched the back of his neck.

“Don’t mention it! I’ll see you at dinner then?” He waved goodbye and took off using instant transmission. You were so excited to have a new place within Capsule Corp. Now if you needed Bulma, you could just walk down the hall instead of having to call her up. You sat on your couch and decided to get a nap in before dinner that evening.

Later that evening, everyone gathered for dinner on the rooftop of Capsule Corp. It was honestly quite cute to have everyone sit together like a big family. You sat with Lord Beerus and Whis to your right and Trunks and Goten to your left. Lord Beerus also took a liking to you, which you figured it couldn’t hurt to have a destroyer on your side. He took the time to actually learn your name which didn’t seem to be a regular occurrence with him and mortals. After dinner you were playing hide and seek with Trunks and Goten, they always outsmarted you by flying or fusing together. You told them that if you were going to play, flying or fusing was against the rules. They weren't too excited about this but they would go along with it because they were always happy to just be playing with you. You were their favorite.

After a tiresome game of hide and seek and finding the boys stuck in a tree you decided to head back to get some sleep. You yawned walking back inside Capsule Corp, that's when you ran into Bulma roaming the halls. She looked a teensy bit nervous and you felt the need to ask her what was wrong.

“Everything ok Bulms?” You approached her slowly placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down a bit without spooking her.

“Oh! Hey, Y/N. Y-Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Her words came off a bit on edge and you couldn’t help but think she was trying to withhold information.

“You sure? You don’t seem okay, you seem a bit anxious..”

“O-okay fine, you got me.” She shakily put her hands up in surrender and you finally let go of her shoulder to cross your arms together. You raised your brow curious to what she was going to say next. “Both Goku and Vegeta left. They went to train with Whis on Beerus' planet..” she paused. You felt as though there was something else she was leaving out. Your brow remained raised, unsure of where this was going. “….we have no way of staying in contact with them, I-I feel a little… unprotected I guess.” she shrugged as if saying it aloud sounded silly. Your eyes widened. A skip in your heart, earth’s greatest protectors - gone? What does this mean? Is there even a threat to earth? Is there going to be a threat? Your head spun a bit when you realized Bulma was still staring at you, she clearly needed comfort from her friend and not a freak out session.

“Come here Bulms, it’s going to be okay” you grabbed one of her arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. “We still have Piccolo and Gohan with us. Oh! And the boys. We’ll be fine if anything happens we’ll just call up Tien and 18.” You unconfidently replied, breaking off the hug you held her shoulders in place so that she could see your trying sincere smile. Her anxiety seemed to knock down a few clicks as you helped calm her down.

“You’re right, It’s going to be okay.” She inhaled and exhaled loudly calming her nerves, “Thanks Y/N. Well, I guess I’ll try to get some sleep now. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to come get me, after all I’m only down the hall now!” She winked as she removed your hands from her shoulders and gave you a swift smile and wave before turning back down the hall towards her place. Finally, you can go back to your new apartment and relax. It had been a long day.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and your living room was pitch black, the only light was emitting from your loft porch. Humming to yourself you walk around your dark room looking for the light switch, it was your first night in your new place and you cursed yourself for not knowing the layout of the room before it had gotten dark. You shuffled around reaching both arms out to feel around the walls for the light switch. At this point you were becoming annoyed, “Ugh” you grunted out loud. You pause for a moment to take a breather and that's when you see them. A pair of what looked like glowing red eyes in the far corner of your living room, they were locked on you and looked like they were coming from behind a lamp that Goku had placed there earlier in the day. You hesitate to scream, figuring maybe it was just an outlet or maybe the boys playing a prank on you. They started to move as if whomever they belonged to began standing up at their full height. That's when you started shaking and you could feel your palms becoming clammy with fear. Whatever it was was charging a ball of energy, the color matching their terrifying eyes. Now would be a good time to scream you thought to yourself, but you were frozen like a deer in headlights.

Shit, shit, shit.

Finally, you let out a gut wrenching scream hoping Goku or Vegeta would barge in and save you from whoever let themselves in your apartment. The being disappears from in front of you, in a frenzy you panic and look around not sure where it went.

“Ah, ah, ah puny earthling.” The unknown creature was now behind you and clapped its large scaly hand over your mouth forcing no more noise out of you. “We don’t want the big bad monkey’s to know that I am here.” It tsked. You were stuck. Trying to calm your breathing you gave in, there was no way you could fight it off. Okay, what now? Still shaking you bring your arms down to your sides not realizing you grasped the hand that was placed tightly over your mouth. “Try that again and I will not hesitate to eliminate you right where you stand, under any normal circumstances you would already be dead at my hands, but unfortunately for the both of us,” a pause, almost as if it was annoyed to say the next part, “I need you to stay alive… for now.”

An understanding, you nodded your head in acceptance and it freed your mouth. All of a sudden the lights came on, blinding you. You covered your eyes trying to get the burn to go away when you finally opened them and saw it, well him? For a lizard man, he was oddly beautiful. He stood taller than you and had ivory skin with amethyst like crystal domes on his head, shoulders, and chest. His figure was rather slender but muscular. Flicking behind him was a long, ivory tail to match. It appeared to be made of pure muscle. He stood with one foot in front of the other showing off his three toed limbs. Wow. You had seen alien creatures before but never one quite like this.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” you cleared your throat and pulled at your shirt, fixing your appearance unconsciously.

“Rather compliant aren’t we?” he questioned while letting his head hang low, twisting his mouth to form a menacing and twisted smirk. “I will spare you the mechanics of my grand plan,” He raised his head to look you in the eyes while he spoke, “I have been watching you for quite some time, human.” This caused you to raise your brow in curiosity. Why was he watching you? “The monkeys left, and you see.. That will just not do, will it?” he started playing with his nails as if this conversation was boring him.

You decided it was best for you not speak unless he asked you to and so he continued on.

“For now, you will be my hostage. My pawn, if you will. I need those infuriating baboons to come back to earth, I will not continue chasing them around the galaxy just to get my revenge.” He clutched his hand into a fist, anger seething through his teeth.

It finally clicked, standing only a few feet away was the ruthless and power hungry emperor, Lord Frieza. You swallowed your fear, not sure how you got here or why but you weren’t going to fight back in any way risking him to deem you no longer worthy to be in his presence. Goku and Vegeta have told you war stories about him. How did he come back? A single tear began rolling down your cheek causing you to sniffle quietly. Frieza must’ve noticed because he reached out and grabbed your face almost crushing your jaw with the action.

“Oh, do not grow worried little one. I will not hurt you…” a beat. “Today.” He chuckled evilly releasing your face. Great, you remembered Bulma telling you that there would be no contact with Goku or Vegeta. How long would you be Frieza’s prisoner? A panic sweeping over you, your head spinning and just like that your world went dark. You were knocked unconscious, Frieza had forced you to sleep.

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

“Mom! Mom, wake up!”

Bulma wiped the sleep away from her eyes. She sat up, yawning not sure if what was happening was a dream or not. Finally, fully awake, her eyes focus on Trunks who is hovering over her in a panic.

“It’s Y/N! I heard her scream, I went to check on her and her door was cracked open and there was no sign of her!” The worry in his voice caused Bulma to jump out of bed.

“Trunks, I need you to go get Piccolo and the others. I am afraid something bad is happening.” Bulma tried her best to hide the worry in her voice.

Trunks left and Bulma started pacing her dark room, she had an itch of who might be involved. “Frieza.” she said to herself sternly, slamming her fist into her other hand. She thought to herself, how the hell am I going to get a hold of Goku and Vegeta?

#frieza #lord frieza #dragon ball #dbz #dbs #dbs vegeta #dbs goku #bulma #whis #beerus #fan fiction #frieza imagine #bryannawrites #needy #friezaneedyfic

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luckyspacerabbit · 3 years

Note

would you ever share the background you created for kai leng? i'd be so interested in hearing it!

Hehe, yes! Thank you for waiting anon. I wanted to really think this through and make sure I was working with all the possible details of his character.

Okay, so my goal with fleshing out Kai was not to excuse him as a villain or to necessarily redeem him, but to humanize him and hopefully incur sympathy because I find his depiction as a mysterious lackey boogeyman to be 🙄 one dimensional and playing on racist tropes like the yellow peril ✨ (also bioware making him predominantly chinese + a lil russian. extrapolate what u will lol)

So here is my background for Kai :) Lots of childhood headcanoning and then some general talk about his character/why I chose certain elements as I did (such as dumping that dumb phantom blade for butterfly swords AEORHIG)

Childhood: According to the wiki, Kai is Earthborn, and from his general heritage we can assume that he grew up in Northern China (omg that's where my ancestors are from). The most populous city there is Beijing, which, if there was a spaceport or alliance recruitment anywhere, it would be there.

I headcanon that he was born to a bit of an unsteady family, where it was likely there was estrangement and unsafe conditions between the mother and father that may have created a sense of helplessness and neglect from a young age.

In my canon, Dan Hyun's mom, Hannah Shepard was the head of an agricultural research facility on Trident, and was an old friend of Kai's mom (From University, possibly).

As conditions worsened throughout Kai's childhood, his mom decided to take a chance and flee with Kai (age 10 at the time) to Hannah Shepard's science facility on Trident (Sentinel Agricultural Research Facility), where she and Kai would stay for about two years as his mom worked to save enough money for their own place .

Since Dan Hyun was already being homeschooled, it was easy enough for Kai to join up alongside her.

Dan Hyun (12 at the time) was extremely happy to have a friend since life on the facility could be really lonely-- but with all these changes Kai was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when Dan Hyun felt put off by his competitive attitude. After so long feeling neglected and growing in a tumultuous home environment, he craved external validation: homeschool provided an avenue for that. They developed their own academic-based competitive rivalry that counted towards friendship, but grew distant when he moved out with his mom about two years later.

When Dan Hyun was 18 (Kai at 16), she managed to apply to an Alliance Research Training program and receive admission-- something that was considered highly prestigious, despite her parents' reluctance. Kai had already begun to build resentment towards her due to the way her parents treated her (very preciously, sheltered, and without exposing her to the difficult parts of life) in contrast with what he lacked in family and world kindness, creating a drive to supersede her and compete with her once again, if only to have tangible proof that just because he began in a lower place didn't mean he couldn't surpass the vision of success.

After this event, they would strike up a still somewhat friendly rivalry again that continued until Kai enlisted in the Alliance at the age of 18 (his attempts to join directly at 16 failed in my canon lol, but he sure tried )

Alliance Service:

Kai took the combat-driven route while Dan Hyun was receiving training for her eventual research establishment in Akuze, meaning that in their line of work, they never crossed paths-- Though they maintained occasional communication and met up here and there whenever Kai was back from his tours.

This is where I believe his decline truly began.

Some habits, like his desire for tangible proof of success and seeking external validation, manifested more heavily in this time. Collecting badges off of dead soldiers (To remember his skill first hand) is a notable one, but I speculate he relied heavily on the word of his commanding officers to counter his self-esteem. Titles were incredibly important because they were proof. When he began to feel a loss of control which led to emotional outbursts and breakdowns, he would fall back on these bits of evidence that he had done something, anything.

The weight and violence of service combined to break away his mental strength and conditioned him to that of a soldier.

Famously, he was discharged in 2186 after his N7 designation. In a bar fight on shore leave, he murdered a Krogan (OKAY. Listen. The wiki says "first-degree murder" but first degree requires premeditation and bar fight implies heat of the moment. So IDK I think the details around this one are a little fishy. He was on leave but he was a soldier, so ? he probably just had a weapon on him? Okay, I'm not excusing him but premeditation is a bit different from manslaughter so just something I've pondered. It separates intentional killers from accidental murders).

At this point, he is formally incarcerated and set to serve a twenty-year sentence.

Cerberus Contact:

The year is 2177, and Kai has lost everything he's ever worked for. His prestige is gone, he is at the worst place he has ever been, his mom won't talk to him, and he has no one. He had even stopped hearing from Dan Hyun, the only person he could have considered a friend once.

Through a small TV in the prison, he is able to hear about the attack on Akuze, and its one survivor: Alliance Scientist Dan Hyun Shepard. In the attack her biotic abilities (Which she had kept secret for many years) were revealed, prompting immediate recruitment into the N7 Program and a contract for ten years of service. This drove Kai into rock bottom-- while he had nothing, Dan Hyun was steadily on track to uprooting the only thing he had ever felt like he had accomplished.

This is when Cerberus intervened, promising him a home, freedom, belonging, and success.

So of course Kai agreed. Why wouldn't he? He had nothing left in his miserable life and there would never again be a place for him.

Cerberus Intervention:

It's my belief that Kai wasn't necessarily "alienphobic" in the beginning. Instead, I think The Illusive Man saw a very clear opportunity to recruit and nurture a broken man into a pawn of service. TIM is incredibly smart-- everyone who works for Cerberus is. He knew what Kai needed was validation, the promise of success held directly on the tip of his tongue to drive him into tenacity and action.

Organizations like Cerberus, even in real life, prey on people at weak points, fulfill their needs and drape their ideology on top like icing on a cake. That's not to say that Kai is completely innocent-- he ate the sweets and readily threw the world to the side in order to attain more-- but it does give some perspective.

Kai in Cerberus:

In ME2 we know there is some apprehension on Kai's part about the role Shepard will play. He is already starting to feel slighted from failures with Rasa and takes even the possibility of rejection from TIM extremely hard and with violent emotional outburst. This evidences how much TIM has whittled him away over the decade of service. Kai feels as though he owes everything to TIM, that TIM saw something in him-- failing him is disproving that and accepting what Kai has feared all along: that he truly is a worthless and incapable person.

Kai and Shepard:

Kai is best known for his direct antagonism towards Shepard in the events of ME3, directly killing their allies and potential love interests in a way that is extremely personal. Yes, it is part of the job, but at the same time, it's clear Shepard gets under his skin. It's because in the end, after all that setup, Shepard is the one person who can take it all away from him.

They can replace him as TIM's prodigy/ They can bring an end to the organization that gave him everything (From his cybernetic enhancements (uh indoctrination cough couch) ) to his purpose in life. Kai threw it all in with them because he didn't see another choice.

My Canon: The End

So how do things end for Kai in my canon?

As you're aware, you can unalive him, violently. But Dan Hyun is very emotional and due to their shared childhood, I like to believe that there was still a grand feeling of kinship between them, a recognition of the other due to shared insecurities. I don't think there was ever a time Dan Hyun looked at Kai and saw anything other than her slighted friend (which is very romanticized, but SHE is very romanticized), it was just about getting Kai to see that too.

She locked him down the best she could, yelled, cried, and beat the shit out of him, but ultimately, preserved his life. After the crucible had been fired and Thane (alive ofc) attended to, she sought to right things between her and Kai: whatever form that takes. Who knows if he'll ever be able to live comfortably in society again-- but at least here, he has the chance.

Random Tidbits:

Some notes! At his best, I like that Kai is portrayed as Loyal, Hard Working, Methodical, Clever, Tenacious, and Factual. I think sometimes he can be written off unfairly as wimpy or scared, but in truth, he's very sure of his abilities and able to calculate his chances extremely well. He's smarter than fandom gives him credit for.

He has an interesting conflict between arrogance based on title and humbleness. He knows he wants to be the best but he never airs it-- like when Rasa suggests that he wants to be the leader for Humanity but he grows quiet and says to just focus on where things are at right now.

His time as a soldier absolutely affected him in ways I think sharpened him to the killer he became. It instilled values that remained with him in Cerberus, such as when he berates Bates for abandoning his squad and calls him a traitor. Kai doesn't betray-- he's quite literally ride or die.

Also? The ninja sword is super dumb because Kai is Chinese and the swords and Phantom's themselves are designed to appear Japanese in aesthetic. Ninjas= Japanese, but China did have their own sect of Assassins which I believe gave birth to Wu Ching as a type of Martial Arts? Or was drawn from it hmm

To keep to accuracy, Kai would have trained more towards their martial art techniques which focuses on close combat and quick movements, as well as the use of dual blades called butterfly swords (You'd likely recognize them as a set of rogue daggers).

That's all for that meta! Phew. If anyone actually read to the end, hey wassup, hope you enjoyed, and take most of this with a grain of salt since it's my headcanons and background work :) Thank you again for reading!

#my meta #kai leng #anon #asks #PHEW #THAT TOOK A WHILE #HAHAH #dan hyun shepard #mass effect #meta

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waywardscorpio · 3 years

Text

His Queen & Her King

Taglist: @callmekda @braunstrowmangirl @phoenixoffiretwo @luna-loo @scuzmunkie @fanfiction-san @superdakotawinchesterus

Chapter 2

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Pissed off Jeff, Readers Dad Triple H, Godfather Shawn Michaels and Uncles Kane and Undertaker, Pregnant!Reader kidnapped.

*Third Person POV*

*A month after the road trip and Jeff, putting another bundle of joy inside his mate*

Y/N was walking through the hallway of the arena while she had one hand on her belly and the other carrying her bag of food and drink. Her baby belly was a little more noticeable now. "Hey Y/N" Undertaker said. "Hey, Uncle Taker." She said looking up at him. "How are you doing?" She asked. "I'm doing fine. How are you and the little ones doing?" She looked up at him confused; because she thought she was only pregnant with one. "The doctor only said, one baby." She said softly. "You don't know do you?" He asked her. "Know what?" She asked. "You're a very rare type of human omega that can get pregnant even though you're already pregnant. It isn't dangerous to you or the babies. But it will put you in danger. Some Alpha's will do whatever it takes to have you and that includes holding you captive and breeding you to make soldiers or a small army" He said. He's older than some people actually know. "But I won't let any harm you." Taker said to her before walking down the hallway.

Y/N, let the words from Undertaker go around and around in her head as she walks to Jeff's locker room. "Hey, Babe." He replied as she walked into the room. "Hey, Darlin'," Y/N replied back to her as she was looking at him from across the room. "We need to have a talk tonight after work." She said to him as she looks at him. "Are you okay? Is the baby hurt? What is wrong?" Jeff said standing up and moving swiftly towards his love. "I am okay. The baby is okay. We just need to talk. I'm not leaving you before you even ask that question next." She said as she looks up at him rubbing his cheek. Jeff relaxed into her soft gentle touch.

"I think you should stay near Undertaker for my match. I have a feeling something is off and it gonna get ugly tonight." Jeff said getting an unsettling feeling that something isn't bad is going to happen and Jeff trusted Undertaker with Y/N's life more than anyone besides her parents. "But I'm supposed to go out there with you tonight Baby," Y/N said to him as she looked at him. "I know Babe, I want you to go out there too. But I have an uneasy feeling that something is going to happen tonight and I don't want you getting in the line of fire or our baby." Jeff said walking to her and carefully rubbing her belly. "Alright, I'll stay by Undertaker tonight." She said looking up at him.

Jeff walked Y/N to where Undertaker was at so, he knew she made it there safely and unharmed. "Hey Taker. Is it okay that she stays with you? I have an uneasy feeling that something is going to happen." He said looking at the taller male. "Yes, she is more than welcome." He said as he looks at a very reluctant Y/N. "As soon as my fight is over Baby, I will be right back here before going anywhere else." He said kissing her lips gently rubbing her cheek and her belly. "Please be careful out there tonight" She said resting her head against his chest. "I will Baby." Jeff said promising the love of his life he would be careful.

Jeff, walked out to the ring getting ready to fight tonight. "This match will be turned into 4 on 4 tag team match. It will be Jeff, Matt, Triple H and Shawn Michaels Vs Edge, Christian, Sheamus and Finn Balor." Lillian announce to the crowd and viewers at home to hear. Y/N's head shot up looking at the tv wide eyes. "No, that wasn't the match he was supposed to be in. Who changed it?" She exclaims looking up at Taker who grabs her hand and heading towards Stephanie's office. "Momma, Dad can't fight and Uncle Shawn can't either." Y/N held her belly on instinct. "I tried to stop the match before it was made. Someone changed it before consulting with us first. Nothing I can do to change it." Steph was furious that someone did this and was about to rip someone a new asshole. "Uncle Taker and Kane please take Daddy's and Uncle Shawn places. They can't fight and the person knows that. They'll be at a disadvantage." She pleads at the two males. Kane looks at Undertaker. "I'll fight tonight." Taker was having a internal battle with himself because he told Jeff, Y/N wouldn't leave his side till the match was over. "Please Uncle Taker" Y/N began to cry in desperation. "Okay Lil One. I will do it. But on the condition you stay by your mother at all times no mater what. Jeff will just have to understand." He said walking out with Kane, and heading to the ring. "I promise" She called out. She hugged her mother tightly. "I got you Baby Girl" She said hushing her Childs cries.

Lightening rang through the arena as Takers music came on and fire surrounds the ring. Jeff sees Kane and Undertaker walking down the ramp. "I have been informed that Triple H and Shawn, will be taken out the match and Undertaker and Kane will be put into the match instead." Lillian announce but silently sighs in relief. "Y/N is supposed to be with you" Jeff said to Taker quietly. "Calm Jeff. She begged us to come out because she knew you'd be at a disadvantage since her Daddy Triple H and uncle Shawn are still healing from two weeks ago. She didn't want you guys to take a chance yourselves considering you two have a tag team title match coming at WrestleMania." Kane said. "I much rather my pregnant mate be safe than myself." Jeff said. Kane and Taker understood his point but also couldn't leave their fellow wrestlers defenseless. "She is safe I promise you. She is with her mother and her momma's ready to rip someone a new Asshole." Undertaker said to him.

Jeff didn't fight with the older man. He knew Y/N, was safe either way. As the match got started Matt and Edge started it off. They didn't hold back on each other either. Lefts and rights were thrown hard and on purpose. "Come on Matt" Kane holler holding his hand out for Matt to tag him in. Matt kicked him Edge in the ribs which gave him the leverage he needed to get away from him so he can tag in Kane. Kane steps over the ropes and started hitting Edge with right, Lefts and wasn't giving him any breathing room. Edge uppercuts Kane when he gets the chance which stuns him and Edge is able to tag in Balor. He has a advantage for a few seconds before Jeff was tagged in and went to town on Balor. Jeff was letting his anger out on his opponent. "You got this Jeff come on" Matt said cheering on his brother. Jeff had twisted his arm behind him and leads him to his corner to tag in the Undertaker.

The match was drawing to a end when Undertaker was tagged back in. He hit Christian with the Tombstone Piledriver and with a count of three Jeff and the others got in the ring raising the Undertakers hand who won them the match. After the mini celebration in the ring everyone walked out. Edge stops Jeff to give him a message. "Hey look I know we aren't the best of friends but I wanna let you know that I saw someone watching your car earlier after you guys got here and someone was following Y/N. It is someone new because I don't know the persons face or scent." Edge said. "Thank you, Edge. I have an uneasy feeling tonight's not over with. whoever made this match done it on purpose but didn't expect Kane and Undertaker to step in." Jeff said to him. "Lita has been uneasy all night worried saying they're coming but didn't get to see their faces when she had a vision. Just be safe." Edge said before walking over to Lita. Jeff mouths a thank you to her. She only nodded her head in response.

Jeff walked to his mother-n-laws office and walked in. "Hey Baby. How are you and the baby?" Jeff asked his mate as he rubbed her back and belly knowing she is tired. "We are perfect. Just tired. How much longer till we can go home?" She asks her mate. "We will be staying with someone for a while. Just got a message from a friend that someone has been watching us and following." Jeff said to Y/N. She whimpered a little in fear. "What?" They heard Steph say. "Baby go get your stuff while I talk to your mom and dad okay?" She nods her head softly. Undertaker was in ear lengths and stayed near her walking her to the dressing room to get her things while Jeff talked to her parents. "Edge stopped me after the match to let me know that people have been following me and Y/N since we been here, and that the scent is unfamiliar and not known around here. He also mentioned Lita had a vision that someone is coming but she couldn't see their faces." Jeff said to Triple H and Steph. "Why are they after you or her or both of you?" Steph asked. "I don't know but I think is has something to do with her being pregnant by me." He said to her. "Whatever it takes you protect her, you here me?" Triple H said to him. "Yes Sir. I'll give my last breath to protect her if that's what it take for her to live." Jeff said unknowing that that statement was about to be put to the test.

While Jeff is taking to Steph and Triple H, Y/N is getting her stuff ready to go when the lights in the building suddenly shut off and came back on. In a blink of an eye Y/N was gone. Jeff ran down the hallway to his dressing room. "Holy hell. Taker are you good?" Jeff asked helping him up. "I was hit over the head after the lights went out. When they came back on she was gone." He said to Jeff, holding the back of his head. "It is newbies trying to rise up through the business so, their going after one of the top dogs here. Y/N's going to be their pawn to use as an advantage. They know no, one will do anything to harm her but they know you will go looking for her. If it comes down to it they'll do unspeakable things to her. Especially since they know she is able to get pregnant multiple times at once. She is a Human Omega it is rare for ones like her to be able to carry more than one baby at a time." Undertaker said to Jeff. Jeff paces thinking at what way he can approach this with out his Omega Mate getting hurt. "Jeff you aren't in this alone." Shawn said walking in the room with Kane, walking over to his brother and checking the back of his head. "We will fight with you over her" Triple H said. "Just be ready for a battle to start." Steph said.

"The battle started the minute the took her." Jeff said calm and deadly. Steph smiled to her husband knowing they picked a good man for their daughter. Jeff walked out to the ring and grabbed a mic. He was careful and tactical with his words even with how angry he was. He won't give the kidnappers the satisfaction to see his pain because once he does they have the power. "You come here" He said to a camera man. "Sir?" he said stepping in the ring with Jeff. "I want you to tape this live." He said. The male nods his head in fear sensing the anger and absolute power dripping off the man. He put the cam on his shoulder and began to tape. "I hope you sick fuckers are listening. You think it was wise for you take a mans pregnant mate. Especially a dangerous man like me who will stop at nothing to get her back. You wanted a battle? A battle you can't possibly come out standing on top. We will see who is left standing when I am done with you because you opened the gates of hell and stepped into my cage!!!" He said looking into the cam. "I won't be alone when I get my hands on you."

"Just know if she has so much as a scratch on her.. Well I show just how sadistic I am when I'm provoked or pushed." Jeff said. "Oh one more thing. Y/N Darlin' I'm coming for you." He adds. She heard her Alpha on the tv and she smiles to herself knowing the men that took her are about to know why Jeff is one of the most feared men in the Wwe besides Undertaker and Kane. "What are you smiling about whore?" One said. "You fucked up. You'll see just what he is going to do to you

#jeff hardy x reader #jeff hardy #WWE Raw #WWE #wwe smackdown #WWE NXT #wwe x reader #stephanie mcmahon #Triple H #fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #x reader #vampires

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theanoninyourinbox · 3 years

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Longstar Au Thunderclan Boogaloo

First, i’d like to thank all of you for your support of my au, I was really surprised at the support! Seriously thank you!!

Second, some details I forgot to mention last time. Cinderpaw still gets hit by the car, but instead of being forced into being a medicine cat, she genuinely enjoys working with Fireheart and Yellowfang. Flamewish makes a bunch of jokes about how her brother stole her apprentice, but she’s just glad Cinderpaw survived. And Longstar still gets kicked in the face by the rabbit, but manages to turn his head at the last second. He still loses some of his vision, but only about half - as he ages it gets worse, but by the time he goes completely blind, he’s got a grandkit that helps him work through his struggles.

Anyway, onto the next part!

In the space between book canon, Longstar is out looking for a juicy mouse for his hungry wife, who’s caring for their first kits, when he’s caught off guard by the scent of dog. To his dismay, he finds a ravaged dead dog with a large grey molly breathing her last nearby. She rasps out for something in the dark, and passes. Longstar looks around, and finds a terrified kit hiding under a nearby bush, bleeding from a paw. After a rushed run back to camp, the kit is treated by Fireheart and Cinderpelt, and Flamewish scoops up the traumatized kit to snuggle with Swiftkit and Foxkit. It’s quickly agreed he’s staying with Flamewish, and Longstar deduces he’s the Dark that the molly was referencing, and Dark-kit is officially adopted by the leader of Thunderclan. Canon continues until...

Swiftpaw comes to her father, worried that her problems hunting and anxiety outside of camp will keep her from being a warrior. Longstar remembers a tale about a warrior who guarded the camp after an injury crippled him, and works with her mentor Mistlenose to get her up to speed on hunting, while working with Fireheart and Cinderpelt with her anxiety. Foxpaw and Darkpaw join her to be supportive, and Darkpaw discovers a love of healing, leading to him apprenticing under Cinderpelt. Canon continues until...

Ashfur! He has zero romantic intentions towards Foxfur - for one, she’s his niece! Ew! Also he has a mate - Flyshadow, Frostfoot’s daughter. They’re holing off on having kits for now, but are absolutely smitten with each other. Flyshadow’s brother Coldlight has a crush on Sandstorm, but with his selective mutism and shyness, he’s never told her. Canon continues until...

Brambleclaw! Foxpaw absolutely bothers the snot out of him, but he has a plan - he hates the leaders of Thunderclan, despises Whitestorm for betraying his old friend, and Longstar for usurping his father’s rightful place. That's right, Brambleclaw is a Tigerstar apologist. His mother and sister have no idea how much he idolizes his father, or that his ghost has been visiting him in the night. His plan is to use Foxpaw to get close to Longstar, and eventually usurp the old foxheart Whitestorm, then murder Longstar and return Thunderclan to a pure, kittypet free clan, feared by the other clans. So he puts up with her, hoping to get closer so he can enact he and his father’s plan. Canon continues until...

The new Prophecy! Fireheart has a vision of a flaming cat and a shadowy tiger. and Foxpaw starts having strange dreams. She meets up with the others, with Brambleclaw following behind, claiming she needs “a real warrior” to back her up. Tawnypelt is happy to see her brother, but a bit suspicious - he seems like he’s hiding something. Foxpaw and the older Crowpaw bond over their status as apprentices, and after a while, Crowpaw opens up about his phobia of water. He tells Foxpaw and a supportive Feathertail about his adoption into Windclan, and how the first thing he can remember is drowning, and then being dragged out of the water by twolegs. He fled, and was found wandering Windclan by Deadfoot, and adopted. The three create a strong friendship, which continues canonically until...

The Tribe! Feathertail is still the silver cat of the prophecy, but survives just barely, breaking her back and becoming paralyzed. Stormfur promises to come back for her, plus he still falls for Brook. The rest of the gang continues on by canon until...

The trapped cats and Shrewpaw! Sandstorm is the one who gets driven off instead of Graystripe, and the clans all mourn her as if she died. Shrewpaw manages to yeet himself farther than canon, getting clipped on the hip and spun across the road. He drags himself back to Thunderclan, pheasant clenched in his mouth. His hind leg never fully heals, but he throws himself into cat-physical therapy with Cinderpelt to get back on his feet. Canon continues until...

The return! The cats are greeted lovingly by their families if not the rest of their clans, and Foxpaw and Crowpaw become Foxflight and Crowfeather. Shrewpaw, now Shrewleg, and Ashfur help Foxflight mourn for Sandstorm, her mentor. Brambleclaw sees this, and feels a surge of jealousy - that’s HIS Foxflight, his pawn! But he holds it together, fake consoling Whitestorm. Canon continues until...

The elders! Mudfur is still ill, and Frostfur, Speckletail, Loudbelly, and Shadepelt decide to stay with him. However, Flamewish insists in giving them a chance, and convinces them to go to her previous Twolegs home, where they’re taken in and cared for like kittypet royalty by the twolegs and their neighbors, as they deserve. Canon continues until...

Smokepaw falls! Russetfur spots him clinging desperately to a root, and Mudclaw bravely climbs down, retrieving the terrified apprentice from his certain doom. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Canon continues until...

The Tribe again! Graystripe is reunited with Feathertail, who’s flattered by Crowfeather’s requested name. Darkpaw has the vision of Spottedleaf, and the clans marvel at the Lake Territory. Canon continues until...

Hawkfrost and Mothwing finally meet up with Brambleclaw, but their conversation is interrupted when Mothwing spots Crowfeather, and thinks she’s seeing a ghost - but then Hawkfrost is like, wait, I see him too? And Crowfeather is startled, but, do I know you? And it’s officially revealed that Crowfeather is Tadpole! A joyous, if slightly confused sibling reunion takes place, and Crowfeather gets to introduce his adopted family to his missing siblings! The only one not delighted is Brambleclaw, furious at being upstaged. But he feigns delight at the events. Canon continues until...

The death of a leader. Tallstar passes, but with Mudclaw at his side. He begs his Deputy to treat the other clans with kindness, as he treated Smokepaw. Mudclaw is fervent in his promise to be a better leader than he has been a Deputy. Onewhisker is seen talking angrily to Brambleclaw, but Brambleclaw dismisses suspicions by claiming to be trying to calm his fellow warrior down. Canon continues until...

The moonpool! Darkpaw follows the spirit of Spottedleaf, and finds the Moonpool. At the next half-moon, he’s named Darkmoon. Canon continues until...

The Windclan Revolt! Onewhisker attacks Mudclaw on his way to becoming leader. Things go mostly the same, with Swiftpool being saved by Crowfeather and the following Feelings Confession, but this time it’s Foxflight and Longstar chasing down Onewhisker. He’s nearly crushed by the tree, but instead is knocked clear, breaking his hind legs and cracking him on the skull. Mudclaw calls for the medicine cats, and when Onewhisker wakes later, he has no recollection from the start of the Journey onward, and professes no animosity towards Mudclaw. Now Mudstar chooses to spare him and he is confined to the medicine den until he heals. Canon continues until...

Way different romantic drama! Foxflight and Shrewleg fell hard for each other on the Journey, and Ashfur and Flyshadow just decided to start trying for kits. It’s too bad Brambleclaw keeps starting rumors about secret relationships. They go nowhere fast, and Brambleclaw scrambles to keep a hold of his plans. Crowfeather and Swiftpool keep meeting up in secret, and consider running. During this time, Darkmoon finds out about the Tigerstar training program, and warns not Brambleclaw, but Hawkfrost, about the consequences of his actions. Hawkfrost mulls over when he tried to drop a moth wing by the medicine den, but one was already there. Canon continues until...

The Badger attack! Midnight warns the runaways and they return, but not in time to save Cinderpelt. Flamewish spots Crowfeather, does that math-circling-the-lady meme, and drags Crow, Swift, Fox, and Longstar into the den after the fight, and commands the nervous duo to spill it right now sO HELP ME STARCLAN! And they spill it, the whole secret romance. There’s a moment of silence, then Foxflight starts the Traditional Thunderclan Threats to a Siblings Datefriend, Lonstar assures Crowfeather and Swiftpool he isn’t angry, while Flamewish demands details of the love confession, was it passionate?!?! This leads to Longstar and Mudstar hashing out a deal - as long as their clans are at peace, the two can be in a relationship. This deal eventually spreads to the other clans, allowing more cross-clan relationships. (Deadfoot is simultaneously disappointed and impressed by his son, Mudstar can’t stop laughing) Canon continues until...

The blood on the lake. Brambleclaw snaps, and lures Longstar to the lake, where he’s foxtrapped. Hawkfrost is visited in his dreams by Yellowfang, who yells at him to wake up and stop his idiot half-brother gET UP OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN!!! (Yes this is exactly where Flamewish gets it from) Hawkfrost makes it to the shore as Longstar falls, and knocks Brambleclaw off the Thunderclan Leader. The two tussle, and Hawkfrost frees Longstar, killing Brambleclaw with the stake.

Sometime later, Swiftpool tells Crowfeather she’s pregnant.

And that’s it for the moment! Next up, the Three, the return of Sandstorm, and Sol that smarmy heretic. Thanks for reading, and I appreciate your support!

#Warrior cats #warrior cats au #longstar au #longtail

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

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Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Seven // “Tobi”

Tobi

Expendable. This is the word that Obito Uchiha hears most frequently from his “savior” and Master, Madara: Expendable. “Everyone in that group is expendable, Obito. Pawns. A means to an end. Getting attached is pointless; they are not your family; I am.” And maybe he’s right, but ... it’s already too late for Obito. He IS attached to this group; they’ve become the family that he’s never had. They weren’t Expendable by any stretch of the imagination, and Obito lives just to be around them ... even when he’s forced to act like the simpleton that Tobi is. Still, there are times when the Uchiha can have a lot of fun with these people — and this Mistletoe game is definitely one of them.

Itachi

Itachi is a difficult one for Obito to read , and even harder to understand. On one level, he’s positive that Itachi knows (or at the very least suspects) that “Tobi” isn’t who he portrays himself to be. But on the other hand, two things that Obito can read for sure are that Itachi is sick, and his depression is so immense that it crushes out almost all other thoughts. Itachi is the sole reason Obito keeps presenting himself as the idiotic Tobi, because to reveal himself would mean death, swift and sweet. He’s not even sure that Madara would have the power to stand up to Itachi. Nevertheless, the time and place for such thoughts isn’t standing under the mistletoe. “Heya, Itachi-san! Ya ready to kiss Tobi now?” Itachi merely nods, but makes no move to approach Tobi. So Tobi walks up to him instead, moves the mask just slightly off his lips, and kisses his cheek. “There ya go!” Itachi goes, and Obito breathes out a sigh of relief. Still, though, he can’t help but feel a little sad, at what he feels to be the impending demise of his fellow clansmen.

Sasori

Sasori has mixed feelings about Tobi. On the one had he feels that he’s just a simplistic moron who doesn’t really warrant a second thought. But on the other hand — Tobi seems really, really attached to his Senpai, and Sasori’s partner, Deidara. Attached in a way that seems, at times, in a way that’s more than purely friendly. Almost like he — but wait, why does Sasori even care what Tobi may or may not feel for the young blonde? It’s not as though Sasori has (or desires) any kind of claim on Deidara, right? The fact that Tobi is standing in front of him right now and Sasori wants nothing more than to murder him and toss his body to the wolves has absolutely nothing to do with Deidara, right? The fact that Pein keeps Sasori back at the hideout more and more to help with strategizing, and sends Tobi out with Deidara in Sasori’s place ... it was all for the best, right? “Oh boy! Tobi gets to kiss Sasori-san!” Sasori grimaces, as he always does, at the grating voice coming from behind the mask. Instead of waiting for Tobi to kiss him, Sasori takes the initiative by leaning up and quickly kissing his cheek. He walks away feeling inexplicably angry ... and it’s not until much later that night, as he’s sitting at his desk working on a puppet while everyone else sleeps ... that he realizes that when he kissed Tobi, he smelled the shampoo that Deidara used. He continues working but doesn’t get much accomplished, as he spends half the night pondering why the idea of Tobi being around Deidara makes him feel so unsettled.

Kisame

Ugh; this kid. Or was Tobi older than that? Kisame honestly had no idea how old Tobi actually was; he doubted that any of them did. Granted he acted like a tall 10 year old — but surely that’s just an act. He’d have to remember to ask Deidara later — did Tobi have any special combat skills? Did he know any useful jutsus? What was his fighting style like? So many unknowns, so many things to wonder about. And throughout it all, wafting from Tobi and straight into Kisame’s nostrils, that unmistakable scent of a predator. But in the wild, the only way to show superiority to a predator was to show that you weren’t afraid. Kisame walks confidently up to him, and flashes him a wide smile that showcases all of his razor-sharp teeth. “You ready, kid?” Tobi nods, and to Kisame’s credit, Tobi actually DOES seem intimidated by the death-trap mouth. That, and the fact that samehada, who is currently strapped to Kisame’s side, has his head up and staring directly at the man in the mask. Kisame steps forward and kisses Tobi’s forehead, then quickly walks away again, before his own fear can leak through his brave facade.

Zetsu

Zetsu flat-out declines to kiss Tobi. Partially because he knows exactly who he really is, and the two have been “friends” for so long that a kiss would just be strange. The other reason is because he hasn’t eaten in two days, having just returned from a long-term mission about an hour ago. He’s so hungry that anything and everything looks delicious, and if he were to try and kiss “Tobi” right then — there’s no doubt that he would have eaten him. And Madara would surely skin him alive for that. So he simply nods at Tobi, and nobody questions why the two don’t exchange a kiss.

Pein

Mysterious and concealed. That’s how Pein (or rather Nagato) would describe “Tobi”; mysterious and concealed. Being around Tobi gives him a strange feeling deep in his sunken chest, that maybe, just maybe, Nagato isn’t the one running this show. That Tobi is actually someone he needs to watch out for. Still, though, it is unfitting to show one’s misgivings to one’s (possible) enemy. As far as Tobi knows, Pein just thinks of him like one of his “children”. Pein approaches him and kisses the cheek of his mask, not giving Tobi time to remove it. “Thank you, Leader-sama!” Pein nods and walks away, wondering whether he just imagined a hint of condensation in Tobi’s voice upon calling Pein “Leader”.

Konan

When Obito was growing up, like many of the kids in Konoha, he didnt’ have a household with a mother and father in it. He was raised by his grandmother who, although loving and kind, didn’t really provide Obito with the kind of matronly emotional support that he needed. When he came to the Akatsuki, Konan more or less filled that role for him. As she did with everyone else, she cooked for him, she washed his clothes, she cleaned up after him. She scolded him when she felt he did something reckless and foolish, and, most importantly, she cared about him. To have someone care about you in a reality where you sometimes don’t even care about yourself is an amazing feeling. Konan approaches him with a shy smile on her face, her tiny dimples showcasing the young girl she had once been. Aside from Rin, Konan is probably the warmest person Obito has ever met. He moves his mask, thinks about it, and gives Konan a gentle kiss on the tip of her chin, then another on her forehead. Then he pulls her into his arms, embracing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan,” he says, in a low, almost-Obito-like voice. “For what?” “For being Tobi’s friend.” Konan blushes and smiles; as she leaves she tells Tobi that when he’s done with his turn, to come and get some of the pie she’s made, to which Tobi happily agrees.

Hidan

Hidan is blushing pretty damn hard as he walks up to Tobi; after what happened when it was Hidan’s turn under the mistletoe, it’s understandable why. “Listen, you orange fuck — don’t pull any of that shit you did last time, alright?” Tobi tilts his head and studies him as if confused. “What do you mean, Hidan-san? Didn’t you like kissing Tobi?”, he asks, and then, his voice dropping into a somewhat playful whisper, “Tobi sure liked kissing YOU.” Hidan blushes even harder, and mutters a “Just do it already, weirdo.” Tobi removes his mask enough so that Hidan can see the flash of his teeth, smiling before tilting Hidan backwards ((and Hidan is surprised at how strong Tobi is)) and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. As it was last time, Hidan is visibly flustered. Tobi smiles even wider; in truth, Hidan is one of the few in the Akatsuki that Obito likes the least. He finds him to be emotion-driven and overly violent, and these things don’t make for a very good teammate. Still; there’s no denying that to be able to shut Hidan up, even for a few moments like now, is indescribably satisfying. Hidan is still standing there in a daze as Tobi slides his mask back into place, and Tobi can’t keep the glee out of his voice as he asks, “Aww Hidan-san; do you wanna marry Tobi now?” This snaps Hidan out of it, and his loud cursing and stomping off can be heard throughout the entire house.

Kakuzu

“Isn’t this ridiculous game over yet??” “No, Kakuzu-san! Don’t be shy; come get a kissy from Tobi!” Kakuzu just rolls his eyes; he’s never really been sure what to think of Tobi. He’s been on zero missions with him so he had absolutely no knowledge of his battle prowess or combat skills (but judging by the way Deidara complains about him, they can’t be all that good). Also, there’s the thing with him covering his face with that mask. Kakuzu isn’t really one to judge that; HE wears a mask as well. But with Tobi it’s not just a mask; it’s the long black clothing underneath the long Akatsuki robe. It’s the thick gloves. It’s the way not a single piece of skin save his toes ever sees the light of day. What’s he hiding? Kakuzu strongly suspects that Tobi might be one of the more elite ninjas listed in the Bingo Book, and if that’s the case, all Kakuzu has to do is wait for the right time to catch him off guard, capture him, and collect a (hopefully substantial) bounty for him. He approaches him and lets Tobi press his mask against Kakuzu’s mask in their version of a kiss. He resolves to study the Bingo Book in-depth tonight before bed; surely Tobi’s identify must be in there somewhere.

Deidara

The look on Deidara’s face is as he approaches Tobi is indecipherable, even to the one who has the sharingan. Fear, anxiety, excitement — and something else Obito just can’t read. And as for Obito himself — what exactly IS it that he feels for Deidara?? He’s nothing more than a pawn, right? A means to an end, as Madara would say. But ... there have been times. Times away from the various hideouts, out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but their packs and their thoughts, that Deidara has shown himself to be remarkably different from the Deidara that the others (except, likely, Sasori) sees. A quiet young man. A deep thinker. Sensitive and kind. And — “Oi, Tobi; can I ask you something?” “Yes, Senpai?” “When — when I was under the mistletoe ... did me and you kiss? Or did I really faint like you said?” A beat of quiet, and then, “Senpai always says that the past doesn’t matter, so why should it matter if we kissed or not?” Deidara chuckles and shakes his head. “You always choose to remember the most random things I tell you, hm. Damn you — I can never tell what goes on in your brain, Tobi.” “You wanna know what Tobi’s thinking right now? Tobi thinks that Senpai — Senpai is one of the most beautiful creatures Tobi has ever seen.” Deidara blushes fiercely at this, and tries to cover up his embarrassment by saying, gruffly , “Let’s just get this over with, Tobi, hm.” So Obito obliges him. He moves his mask to expose his mouth, sweeps Deidara’s long hair back, tilts him, cups his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and gently leans into him with his lips. Deidara resists at first, hesitant, but eventually he finds his arms circling Tobi’s broad shoulders, holding him tightly. He HAS to hold on because he’s terribly dizzy; he’s not quite sure what’s happening to him, but Deidara feels as though he’s falling down a very deep hole inside of his mind, and Tobi is the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. The kiss finally ends when (and only because) Sasori suddenly comes out of his room, yelling “Brat! I’ve been calling for you for ten minutes; you know I don’t like to be kept waiting!” Deidara steps away from Tobi, and he’s stumbling as though he’s a bit disorientated. “G-Goodnight, hm.” “G’nite Senpai! Sweet dreams!” Obito watches Deidara walk away, just barely conscious of the strange glance Sasori pitches in his direction when Deidara reaches his room.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #deidara #sasori #tobi #obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #zetsu #kakuzu #hidan #kisame #pein #konan #naruto shippuden #headcanon

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blufox234isadumbname · 3 years

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storyboards ig of the dream smp but as a stageplay because I had Bang! by AJR in my head

vvv explanation of why i think the song is fitting below vvv

From a set design stand point, this stageplay performance would have a stage, with a main podium in the centre back. The podium is about a metre and a half high, with stairs facing the audience. Possibly, there can be a small entrance in the stairs for actors to enter in/out of. Atop, there's a stand where the button will be, which has significance during the first and final chorus. Aditionally, screens on either side of the podium (with steps behind them for hidden access to the podium) can be used for displays, such as the L'Manburg flag throughout the performance This is just what I had in mind,, I imagined this as a stageplay because MMMMM THEATRE :))))

as for the song: I imagine that this song has mostly Dream as the speaker, refering to the events of the Dream SMP. Dream is a puppet master, he controls and enables the conflicts to gain benefit. He's making a fun and catchy tune about reaping the harvest from war as the cost of it means nothing to him. Here's how I imagined it;

I get up, I get down and I'm jumpin' around And the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinkin' it's time To grow (bang! bang! bang!)

> the opening lines are for the start of the dream smp, where Dream is settling down with friends, it's all peaceful and lovely until Dream hands off the attention to Tommy. Through that, he sparks the brief wars over the discs. That in advertedly causes the next war to erupt

So I got an apartment across from the park Put quinoa in my fridge, still I'm not feelin' grown Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinkin' it's time To go (bang! bang! bang!) (here we go)

> Tommy finds L'Manburg with Wilbur, dancing around, and creates new beginnings with other members. At this point, Tommy only started his development as a character, he's not exactly "grown" yet even after taking responsibility of L'manburg. hence the line. Even so, they all salute together as a nation.

So put your best face on, everybody Pretend you know this song, everybody Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!)

> Eret reveals himself as the traitor and presses the button atop the podium , where Dream's allies come to attack the L'maburgians. The line "put your best face on" is refering to the betrayal, Eret lying to all of them to join Dream's side. I imagine that this is also in reference to Dream's mask, a symbol for siding with Dream. All those who "put (their) best face on" would don the same mask as him, or rather become another pawn to Dream. A symbol to show their loyalty to him. And the line"pretend you know this song" is about pretending to hold the same ideals as the hero's side until reveal. In this case, Eret pretended to follow with their song of freedom to join the side that they were trying to emancipate from

I'm way too young to lie here forever I'm way too old to try so whatever Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!)

> Dream only initiates most conflict because he can, he's a reverent of chaos. He sees the war as fun for him. He's gotten tired of the stillness so he just joins in the war for fun and for his benefit. And the "bang" directy refers to the exploding of L'Manburg near the end of the war. He dances with Eret, with him leading. He's the one using Eret to get what he wants in the war, using him the puppet he sees him as.

Feel like I'm gonna puke 'cause my taxes are due Do my password begin with a one or a two? Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinkin' it's time To grow (bang! bang! bang!) (metronome)

> This is where the Schlatt Administration begins, with everyone rattled about while Schlatt, Quackity and George stand on the podium. (not for long, George just looks around then dips) The taxes refer to Niki having her's raised, while the password refers to Fundy's secret base, where he hid his Spy Diary. The third line refers to Tommy, starting his growth of character and rallys to take back L'Manburg

Man, I'm up to something, ooh-dee-la-dee-doe Thank you all for comin', I hope you like the show 'Cause it's on a budget, so ooh-dee-la-dee-doe Yeah, come on here we go, yeah, come on (here we go)

> The Manburg Festival is here, with the first line about Wilbur turning insane. In time with the metronome ticking, symbolising the ticking time bomb that is both the festival and Wilbur, the festival goers just have their heads go side to side. The second is about Tubbo's speech, thanking the citizens for attending. The third about Schlatt revealing his intentions of executing Tubbo, him and Quackity holding Tubbo down on the stand

So put your best face on, everybody Pretend you know this song, everybody Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!)

> Now, WIlbur's best face is one of insanity, revealing hsi intentions of chaos instead. The song of freedom he knew became warped and twisted, to the point of being unrecognisable at least in his mind. The "bang" here is caused by Techno, appearing behind Wilbur, firing the rockets to the podium in time with the beat.

I'm way too young to lie here forever I'm way too old to try so whatever Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!) (Bang! bang! bang!)

> Like Dream, Techno wants to cause anarchy for his own benefit and also because he can. At this point, both WIlbur and techno hold the same ideals and agree; that to end it all, Manburg has to "go out with a bang" Tommy tries to object but he gets punted away

Been a hell of a ride but I'm thinkin' it's time To go

> Tommy's has had enough, everyone is rallied together as Pogtopia and fights

So put your best face on, everybody Pretend you know this song, everybody Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!) (here we go)

> Finally, we see Dream's own act of deception. He isn't the one to betray Pogtopia, however he baits them into thinking they are safe as he surrenders. He does in fact know the song, but couldn't care less. And as the final "bang" goes off, Wilbur emerges onto the podium and presses the button on the stand, just like Eret (reference to when it was never meant to be)

So put your best face on, everybody Pretend you know this song, everybody Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!)

> The withers are released by Techno, putting back on his face of anarchy and fighting the government system. The song he knows is not one he particularly likes, so he challenges it and threatens to abolish it. Meanwhile, Wilbur finally reaches the peak of his insanity, seeing the song no longer real. He finally goes out with a bang upon the button press, and dances around in the ashes while everyone else runs around in fear

I'm way too young to lie here forever I'm way too old to try so whatever Come hang Let's go out with a bang (bang! bang! bang!) (here we go) (Bang! bang!)

> Finally, the villians come together and dance around, with Dream taking the lead like with Eret. He is, after all, the true villian of the SMP. Techno faces away to the podium, to tear down the symbol of power. Wilbur collapses, dying to the hands of Phil and crying because of his actions. And Dream bows, happy with the result of such a chaotic performance and hopes the audience thinks the same.

#wilbur soot #technoblade #tommy innit #dreamwastaken #dream smp #dream team smp #story board #stageplay #performance #mcyt #shitty sketch #my art #blusart #eew eww #he lp

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immortalonus · 3 years

Text

Where You Belong: Chapter 3

A/N: I hate this chapter so, so much. Unfortunately, I also couldn't find any way around it. If I got anything wrong, chances are I just missed it, so feel free to let me know.

Read on AO3 here.

“...Humans with ghost powers!? Crazy, right?” Valerie snorted, then paused.

“Or humans that turn into ghosts, or ghosts that—stay human when they die or whatever. The important thing is that there was a part of Ellie that was real. And if it hadn't been for Phantom, I'd have just left her there with Plasmius, to do whatever—to hurt—to—”

Valerie took a moment, struggling to admit out loud what she had already begun suspect for herself.

“—kill her. he was gonna murder a little girl, mama, and if Phantom hadn't convinced me she still had some human in her, if I hadn't listened to a ghost, I woulda let him.”

Phantom, if she hadn't listened to Phantom, specifically. It was a detail that still irritated her every time it came up.

The ghost boy had been so persistent, for so long in his charade of being a “good guy,” that most days, she simply tuned him out.

And truly, was that so wrong?

Up to that point, Everything Phantom had said in his own defense had been nothing more than talk. Oh, he said sorry, he said he felt bad about it, but at the end of the day, what had he done?

Ruined her fathers job and her life, then fled the scene like the criminal he was.

Stole for the hell of it and couldn't even be bothered to take the blame when he got caught.

(Valerie still had no idea why the ghost thought an “evil mind controlling clown guy,” was a reasonable excuse, at all, for anything.)

Who was always ready to fight, but never to help.

Never, not once, in all the wretched aftermath of the Grey's financial dissolutionment, had Phantom come to their aid. Not in the immediate events that came after, nor during the process of her father's dismissal, when he could well have stayed his expulsion simply by appearing, proving Damian Grey's assertions of spectral interference months before he would have been otherwise believed.

Not during the move from her childhood home to her current residence down in Elmerton. Too strapped to hire assistance, it had been down to Valerie, her father, and Fenton, who had taken his weekend off to help her move instead.

No haunting the creditors who dogged their every step, even now.

Hell, he couldn't even be bothered to tell the public that it was his fault her life was ruined! In private, yes, where he knew no one could hear. But never where it mattered, to whom it mattered, since that would require Phantom to actually give something up for once and admit what he did was wrong. Which he would never do, because Phantom, like all ghosts, was a fundamentally egotistical creature, right down to his very core.

No, Valerie had good reason to believe that she had Phantom all figured out: A showboating prig, full of hot air and false excuses, distinct from other ghosts only in his capacity to fool the masses into believing he was ever anything more.

Then Elle happened.

The ghost girl's mere existence had managed to throw Valerie's world into a whole new tailspin, leaving her reeling even as events conspired to yank more and more of her footing out from under her, teetering on the edge of her own understanding as all her convictions suffered blow after blow.

Living ghosts.

Ghostly humans.

Friends acting as enemies.

While enemies acted as friends.

“I woulda let him kill her.” She repeated, “Just like I let him kill—end—All those other ghosts I gave him, just handed 'em over for whatever freak experiments he had cooked up.”

Just like she had snuffed out who knew how many other specters during her own patrols.

How many of them were still alive in there, she wondered, underneath the ghost?

Her mother's brows seemed to furrow in response, worried, no doubt, over what exactly her daughter had done.

“I didn't mean it mama, it wasn't my fault! It was all Plasmius, you know Plasmius? That knockoff Nosferatu all the time picking fights with Phantom. He used me and he lied, and—“ Valerie licked her lips futilely seeking moisture from a mouth gone dry.

“He played human to do it.”

Valerie felt a flush of rage and shame wash over her at the words. She had been used all over again, played for a fool and manipulated just like her so-called “friends” had used her before, dangling control and importance in exchange for the very essence of her soul.

To learn that she had struck the same deal with a different kind of devil, that all her power was a tool in someone else's hands had curdled into an ache that rivaled the raw burn of a whole new betrayal.

Because unlike the A-listers she'd run with not too long ago, or even Phantom, who she'd always hated, Vlad Masters had been a man she'd seen fit to trust.

“Plasmius was Masters, and—God, they even share the same first name—My sponsor, the guy who gave me my first suit, trained me up, even kept me and daddy off the streets when things were at their worst. And me stupid enough to think it was 'cause he cared.”

A hard exclamation escaped her throat at the thought, to forceful for a scoff, too sharp for laughter.

No such thing indeed.

“Everyone's out for something. Masters—Plasmius, he was out for Phantom, and I was just the pawn that was supposed to get take him out.”

That's part of what scares me too. Why was Plasmius so dead set on Phantom? Why'd he sink so much money into taking him out? Why does Phantom hate him back?”

And it was peculiar, how much Phantom seemed to hate Plasmius. Valerie had thought for a long time that it was some kind of territory dispute, a conflict over a rare and valuable thin spot between realities. After years of chasing after Phantom, however, it became more and more clear that the ghost boy's resentment of Plasmius went beyond that of simple competition.

The mere mention of the vampiric specter was enough to turn Phantom tense and snippy, as though the mere thought of the other ghost irritated him, somehow. After witnessing the two up close, Valerie's suspicions had cemented into certainty: Phantom hated Plasmius, and he hated him personally.

“There's so much I don't know, and no one to tell me. Plasmius doesn't know that I know, and until I get out from under him, that's how it's gotta stay.”

How Valerie was supposed to get out from under Plasmius was another question entirely. Plasmius, in Vlad Master's guise, was the sole reason the Grey family had managed to keep on top of its debts for as long as they had. To make matters worse, he also provided most of the materials Valerie's suit consumed for its more elaborate systems and weaponry.

Even so, the temptation to throw it all away and smash Plasmius' smug face against her boot was a strong one, stayed only by the fear of what would happen to her father if she tried.

“Phantom went squirrelly on me too,” she said. “I thought maybe I could get something from him, since we never ended that truce. But in the end, he was still just a ghost.”

She hadn't wanted to go to Phantom, in those days between Elle's escape and her decision to plunge into the Zone, had felt too much like would be admitting something, somehow, to do so. Had it not been for the fact that Phantom was her sole and only choice, she was sure she would never have asked at all.

Once she'd made the decision to do it, he'd been easy enough to track down. She found him—where else?—but In the middle of a fight, duking it out at altitude with one of the countless animal ghosts that regularly made their way across the paltry excuse for a veil stretched across Amity Park.

The fight had been easy, the conversation that came after it, much less so.

How could someone be alive and dead at the same time? Were they alive and dead at once? all the time? Did they alternate at will? Were they born? Were they made? How many were there? A lot? How did she spot a human-ghost if she saw it? Was there a way to tell? Or did you have to guess?

Phantom had been the one to tell her that these human-ghost, ghost-human things could exist in the first place, which had lead her to expect, rather despite herself, that perhaps he could explain them, too.

So it was only natural, really, that in that moment precisely, he had chosen to clam up. He knew nothing of these miraculous hybrids, could find out nothing concerning them, and as to finding them, he had no clue at all. Nevermind that it had been he who had first told her such beings were possible in the first place, the ghost was a veritable well of ignorance, utterly unable to aid in her pursuits.

“Ghosts are narrow minded and selfish, they go round everywhere like they've got blinkers on both sides of their head. You stick an idea in front of their nose, and they grab it if they like it, and shove it away if they don't. They don't consider where you got the idea from, they don't think about why its there, they don't even goddamn care why you picked it up in the first place. All that matters is somethings blocking their little slice of the world, theirs, specifically, 'cause they wouldn't never consider any other kind.

That was Phantom's problem, he wanted a truce yeah, but his way, not mine. A truce for beating things up, not a truce for trusting and talking or or anything that might give trouble to him. That wasn't how he wanted it to work.

He was even worse with Elle. She's the only other one I could talk to—not counting you, ma—who could tell me anything about anything about what was going on!

And Elle, I couldn't track her down. When she said she had places to be, I thought she meant like Phantom when there wasn't anything fun for him to hit, not just gone! I tried tracking her, I did, but it didn't work. Either staying human hides her, or she's run too far to track.

Stupid Phantom wouldn't help me with that, neither. It was just 'oh she's fine,' this and 'why do you care' that, like I can't worry about a human girl wondering on her own without nobody to make sure she's even fed!”

Not only had he been absurdly reluctant to answer her questions, but even had the audacity to wonder if they were at all related to her continued association with Plasmius. It was an insult, beyond all doubt, as though he didn't know how little choice she had.

As though he wasn't the one who forced her into making it.

“I guess so far as he figured, if Elle wasn't being kidnapped, then she was fine. It didn't matter that she's a kid, or alone, or was stealing apples just to eat. She was strong enough to survive on her own and not melt, and that was good enough for him. He just sat there when she left, too, watching her scat like any other ghost."

Did he know how far she intended to run, or simply fail to understand why he should care?

"No matter how well he thinks he means, Phantom can't help the human parts of her. Just because she could beat any man that tried to take doesn't mean that she doesn't get—scared, or lonely, or—“ Valerie wriggled uncomfortably in her pallet of dust. “—Or that she doesn't need people. Phantom can't give that, and Plasmius is a sick piece of shit, so that left me. Just me. If I let that go, then Elle'd be alone for real.”

The worry in her mother's gaze didn't lighten, exactly, but it did shift, consternation giving way to curiosity mixed with a hearty topping of concern. It was easy to imagine the question she would have asked, if she could but speak.

“Then what is it do you think you're doing all the way out here, hm?”

Valerie sighed. This, at least, she had a clear answer for.

“I'm on a mission. There's this thing called the infini-map. Don't have all the details, but with a name like that?” She scoffed, “don't need 'em. Whatever it is, its good enough to send Plasmius into a fit just at the idea of laying claws on it.

If I could get something like that, imagine, I could find Elle in a heartbeat. No more lookin', no more running blind and hoping for luck. And when I find her, I could use it get out from under Masters thumb for good. Use it, sell it, whatever, with that thing, it would be easy. Me and daddy could be set for life.”

At the time, the idea had seemed brilliant. With her search for Elle stymied, and rental payments approaching their inevitable due, she had latched onto the idea of a Ghost Zone mission the instant her so-called benefactor had brought it up. It was a chance to bleed “Mister Masters” of a little more of his money, without actually having to tolerate his presence for any length of time. Even better, it presented an opportunity to do right by her father while staying far away from the quiet anger, the soft, dispirited sense of regret that had seemed to overtake him as jobs remained scarce, and Valerie continued to hunt.

Perhaps most selfishly, it was the opportunity for the Red Huntress to become what Valerie had had always wanted her to be: A free agent, no puppet masters, no expectations, just the world, and herself within in it.

It was one thing she truly did not regret, even now, lying in the dirt looking up at the memory of a memory ripped to tatters in her hands. Whatever else happened in this strange, wild place, it was her decision, her choice. She was finally in control.

Thinking of control, there was another reason why she wanted to speed up her search for the ghost girl.

“Elle's a good kid, but she <i>is</i> a kid, with a ghost in her she don't even know to fear. I'm not sure how long she can fight it like that without anyone to tell her what's going on. She needs someone who knows about ghosts,who can show her how to fight back, 'cause if she doesn't, I'm not sure how long she'll last until she ends up Plasmius."

“Or Phantom.”

It was an ugly theory, but explained a great deal. The identical looks, the raw antipathy towards Vlad, in particular, or how a full ghost could see himself as related, somehow, to a being that was something so much more.

All ghosts came from somewhere, and Valerie rather doubted Elle was truly Plasmius' only attempt at capturing a hybrid of his own.

“'Cause I think they're the same kinda thing. It explains why Plasmius wanted her so bad, and they change the same way, too. They go from being a ghost, ectosignitures and all, to being alive. Not some fake, but breathing, heartbeats, everything. There's something in them that's really, truly alive.

Plasmius and Elle, they're both alive," she whispered, "but only Elle's human, and I don't know how long that's gonna last.

I can't stay stupid about all this ghost shit, neither. There's so much they won't tell me, and Elle's my ticket to figuring it out. If I can find her in time, I could fix it. Bring her to the Fentons, maybe, take out the ghost before it gets too big, make cash, move out me and daddy and Elle all together. Either way, this is how I do it, right here, right now. This is my chance.”

No more being lead around like a particularly witless donkey for his carrot wielding master, no more suppressing every violent impulse that threatened to take her over any time she chanced to look “Mister Masters” in his insufferable face, no more long, interminable periods of her nose against a grindstone day after day, scraping her fingers bloody against poverty's wall in the way her father seemed convinced was better, somehow, for all the pain it so obviously caused him.

“I know it's risky, but it's worth it, it's gotta be. If I can get the infinimap, then I can fix everything, all at once. I won't owe nobody nothing, and I can start fixing things again, for everyone.”

And perhaps her mother agreed, as the shadow that had gathered against her brow seemed to ease, relaxing back into something more serene.

Valerie smiled, running her thumb over the place where her face once was, pointedly ignoring the sensation of absence in favor of the smiling visage still shining across her display.

“See, I knew you'd see it my way.” Valerie was pretty sure she'd had to have gotten her sense of adventure from somewhere, after all. “It's hard, but I'm fine. And when this is all done, it'll be more than fine, it'll be better.

Just you wait.”

Overlay image: Session end.

The memory of Theresa Grey vanished slowly, victim of her daughter's own reluctance to see her go. But vanish she did, sunshine grew pale and laughter faded, memory crushed into data and erased of meaning, and Valerie was once again alone.

She sighed, finally allowing herself to lower the photograph as she reached over for her other parcels, which she began collecting into a small bundle atop her chest.

Technically, she could reach over to put her mother with her boots and rations instead of the other way around, but found herself suddenly disinclined to do so. Without the stress of the day to keep her going, she found exhaustion pushing down at her very bones, keeping her pressed against the meager comfort of her body warmed hollow of dirt.

No, lifting herself up as little as possible seemed a very enticing proposition indeed.

She grabbed both her boots, then her gloves, peeled off to reveal the same skintight leather which coated the rest of her, the remains of her wallet, and a single, battered bag, too smooth for leather, too thick for silk: All supplies from her earlier run in with the thieving insect from before, pared down to those goods and supplies she could actually use.

She chose not to dwell on how few of them there were.

Her mother came last, placed gently at the head of the pile, where she could look it over one last time.

She should have done this sooner, she knew, perhaps even the moment she entered the Zone. Keeping the photograph on her physical person was too much of a risk, one born of foolish sentiment and thoughtless desire. She had just wanted so badly to keep one good thing with her, somewhere tangible and real, she'd disregarded the threat she put it in.

Because if there was one thing death was guaranteed to do, it was steal everything and everyone it thought was yours.

Valerie placed her hands over the small collection, reaching once again into the inorganic hum prickling ever at the edges of her mind.

Unit_1 selected (Gen_Storage:)

Report

Status: Stable (20% full)

Contents (See details)

Intake request:

Intake selected? (Y/N)

>Yes

Processing…

A flick of her mental fingers, and it was done. Boots, bag, and all turned into their own kind of mist, dissolving into the small pocket dimension that followed her always, shadows diffusing into the surrounding light, the weight of them dissipating until nothing but the memory of their pressure remained.

Valerie brushed her fingers over the space they left behind, a half smile tugged at the corners of her trembling lips.

“Goodnight, Ma,” She whispered. A grief like seaglass hung heavy on her heart, smoothed over edges cut no longer, though the heft of its sorrow lay leaden even yet.

“Sleep good now, you hear?”

No voice answered in response.

Valerie no longer expected it to.

Deep in the realm of the dead, a figure turned on its side, curled against itself on its small outcropping of stone. Legs up to its chest, arms clenched tight around its shoulders as it heaved, breath by mortal breath, seeking some moment of repose.

#Valerie Grey #Danny Phantom #Fanfiction #Where You Belong #Chapter 3 #Writing

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cinnamon-roll-seth · 4 years

Text

Not Good For You (Part Two) || JJ Maybank

- Part One

Two weeks after you and JJ’s break up you attend a party with the intentions of getting over him but he has other plans.

It had been two weeks since your breakup with JJ and although it killed you inside you’d stayed a far distance away from not only him but the rest of the crew as well.

You didn’t intend to push them away, especially not Kie whom you’d known your whole life, but you couldn’t help but think about what JJ had said. Of course they’d choose him, he’s a pogue. You’re a kook, you don’t have any business being friends with any of them.

Your father was practically throwing a party at the expense of your feelings. He was hardly around, he didn’t see how deeply the break up had affected you. Your mother, on the other hand, was worried for you.

You wouldn’t leave the house, spending hours a day simply moping around the halls. You also quieter than usual. You had your issues with your family, and truthfully they hadn’t seen you much in the past few years since you’d become friends with the pogues, but when you were around them you were usually happy and talkative. Now you’d hardly said a word in days and looked like nothing but an empty shell of her daughter.

JJ hadn’t been doing too well either. He was angry and withdrawn. The others had never seen him this way before, not even after the multiple times he’d gotten beaten senseless by his father. That night after you stormed off he’d told them about the talk he’d had with your father.

They all told him that he was an idiot for letting your dad’s words get to him and begged him to go to your house and make things right, but he stood his ground even though every part of him wanted to listen to them.

JJ felt guilty watching them miss you. The five of you had spent practically all everyday all day together for the last couple years and although he’d been the one actually dating you the breakup was hitting them just as hard as it was hitting him. He could tell they didn’t want to bring it up much for fear of upsetting him.

Three days after that night the four of them had woken up after a night of nearly no sleep. John B had yawned before saying, “Ugh I wish Y/N was here. She makes the best coffee.”

Upon seeing the hurt on JJ’s face he’d apologized and they’d all tried their hardest not to mention her since.

They all were currently laying around the chateau in silence when suddenly John B speaks, “You know what, I’m sick of this. I’m sick of being all sad and depressed because of...” He trails off but the others already knew what he was going to say, “We should throw a party.”

“A party? John B do you really think that’s a good idea?” Kie asks, running a hand through her hair.

“Think about it guys! I mean, back in the day there was nothing that a good old kegger couldn’t fix, remember?” It was silent for a moment while they all soaked up his words.

“I’m down,” Pope shrugs and Kiara nods as they all look towards JJ.

“JJ? You in?”

“I don’t know. Maybe count me out on this one?” The blonde boy replies and the other three groan.

“Oh come on JJ. You never used to turn down a party! And besides, maybe you’ll meet somebody and move on from-“ Pope stops talking as Kie harshly elbows him and turns to glare at her.

They all stare at JJ as he thinks it over and finally sighs, “Sure, yeah.”

Kie and Pope cheer as John B smiles, “Great, it’s a plan then.”

—

“Y/N do you still have that diamond hairpin that I let you borrow a few months ago?” Your mother asked as you watched her get ready for a party her and your father were going to.

“Um maybe?” You responded, knowing damn well you gave it to JJ to pawn off.

“Well can you go check your room for it please? It would really help out my outfit.” She pleads and you sigh.

“Yeah, I guess.” You walk out of your parents’ room in across the hall into your own, nearly screaming when you realize somebody is already sitting on your bed waiting for you, “Jesus Kie, you scared me! What are you doing here?”

“Y/N we miss you. All of us do, we’ve all been struggling with loosing you, especially JJ,” She whispers the last part but you hear it anyway and shake your head.

“Kie if you’re here to try to fix things between me and JJ then you should probably just leave. He told me exactly how he feels and trust me when I say that he is not interested in getting back together so please just stay out of it.”

Kiara’s heart sinks and she’s tempted to tell you the truth about why JJ said those things instead she shakes her head, “No no, Y/N. That’s not why I came. I- we’re having a kegger tonight on the beach. Please come, I miss my best friend.” She pleads.

“I don’t know Kie. Watching JJ flirt with and be all over other girls knowing I’m not over him doesn’t really sound like my cup of tea.”

“I doubt he’ll be doing that. Besides the beach is huge, you don’t even have to see him if you don’t want too!” She insists.

“And what about the other boys, what do they think about it?” You ask wearily.

“They don’t even know I’m here but I know they’d be so happy if you came. They miss the hell out of you Y/N. It’s not the same without you there.”

She stares at you for a moment while you think. You have missed them and going would probably get your mom off your back. But what about JJ, you know your heart isn’t ready to see him again. You know what, screw JJ. Like Kie said, the beach is big enough and there will probably be enough people there that you won’t even have to see him.

You sigh and nod, “Yeah sure, I’ll go. But if I see even a glimpse of JJ I’m out.”

—

“Damn it Kie, we’ve been looking for you all- Y/N!” John B yells when he sees you walking behind Kiara and you laugh as he runs forward and picks you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“Hey JB,” You smile, moving to hug Pope as well.

“Where the hell have you been?! We’ve missed you!” Pope asks after you pull away.

“The land of the dead,” You laugh, referring to your house but also referring to your mental state the past two weeks, “But in case you were wondering I’ve missed you idiots too...I suppose” You add at the end, jumping away as John B attempts to punch you playfully in the shoulder.

“Don’t ever disappear like that for that long ever again.” Pope says softly and you look at the ground, feeling guilty.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. We understand that you needed some time.” Kie reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. You look up and smile at her weakly.

“Yeah well I’m over being sad. Now if somebody doesn’t get me a beer right now I’m leaving,” You smirk and they all laugh.

“Yes your highness,” John B bows playfully and runs off towards the keg.

—

“And that’s when he said ‘just yank the damn thing out!’ Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard him say,” The kids around you laugh as you tell them the story of when John B stepped on a fishing hook, chugging down the rest of your sixth (or seventh?) beer.

As the night had progressed you surprisingly hadn’t seen JJ and you were relieved for that, instead inserting yourself into a group of tourons that were already wasted and would probably pass out on the beach, unable to navigate the way back to their hotel.

You were also quite tipsy, just enough to have that extra courage to do things you normally wouldn’t, which is why you currently stood wrapped up in the arms of some random touron that you didn’t bother learning the name of.

The kids around you began a new conversation and you turned and stood on your tip toes, leaning in to the boy’s ear, “I’m going to get another beer and then you should take me back to your hotel.”

He nodded, eyes going wide, and you wink before walking over towards the keg. You fill your cup to the brim and head back to the group, waving at Kie with a smile as you pass her talking to one of her coworkers at The Wreck. You’re nearly back to the group of tourists when the voice you were hoping you wouldn’t hear tonight calls out your name.

You ignore him and keep walking but he follows and grabs your wrist, gaining the attention of the tourons near you, “Y/N can we talk?”

“Oh hey JJ. Guys, this is my ex-boyfriend, JJ. He broke up with me because I’m rich.” You say sarcastically, taking a sip of your beer.

“That’s not why. Y/N please, I need to talk to you, in private.” He pleads and you shake your head.

“Isn’t it though? You broke up with me because you were afraid of ‘dragging me down to your level’ and ‘ruining my hopes and dreams’, because apparently you think I’m only capable of being happy if I’m rich right? So yeah, essentially you did break up with me because I’m rich and your not. Or was it the fact that I’m too clingy and pathetic? What, did you come to tell me? That I need to move on because you haven’t loved me for a long time? Well sorry JJ but for once in my life I don’t give a shit what you’re about to say next so can you leave? I was doing just fine having fun over until you had to come ruin it. Jesus, you really don’t want me to move on and be happy. Who’s the pathetic one now.” You snap as everyone around you ‘oohs’ and you hear one of them say ‘damn bro, she told you’.

“God damn it Y/N. Of course I want you to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I- I didn’t mean anything I said that night. Please just let me explain.” JJ says again.

You hadn’t seen him tonight but he’d seen you. He’d watched from afar as you talked and laughed and when he saw you in the arms of that boy his heart broke even more. He couldn’t stand seeing you with someone who wasn’t him and with that he finally decided to tell you the truth.

Finally you roll your eyes, “You have ten minutes to explain yourself.” He tries not to smile in triumph and nods, pulling you away to a quiet spot, away from people.

“The night of Midsummers I had every intention of finding you Y/N. I wanted nothing more then to find you and have you in my arms. As I was looking for Sarah, to give her John B’s note, I ran into your dad-“ You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Of course my father has something to do with this. What did he say, huh? Did he tell you how dirty and poor you are and how much he hates you and doesn’t like you? Yeah he told me that same thing multiple times JJ but I didn’t break up with you because of it.”

“Yeah he started out with that. And I told him that I wouldn’t break up with you. But then he started talking about how being with me would ruin your life and how one day I’d get into trouble and drag you down with me and you’d have to give up your dreams.”

“And did you ever once stop and think about what those dreams were? Or did you just automatically assume? Just because I’m a kook did you think my main goal in life is to go to a fancy college, marry a handsome rich man, and have some spoiled little rich kids running around?” You ask angrily.

“No! No of course not. I- to be honest I don’t know what I thought.” He admits sheepishly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah well you wanna hear my dreams for my future? The ones you were so worried that you would ruin? JJ when I think about the future I dream about having more adventures with you and the others. I dream about us getting married out in the middle of the water on the HMS Pogue with the people we love most watching, one of them can get ordained to perform the ceremony, I don’t care who. I dream about finding a cute little house close to the water that we can call home, like the chateau, some place where our children and their friends can hang out and call home. I dream about having a bunch of little mini JJ’s and mini Y/N’s running around, probably having to break up a few fights if they have a temper anything like their father’s. I dream about growing old with you and watching our grandchildren grow up and have their own adventures just like we did and our kids will after us. Or so I thought. Funny how you broke up with me because you were so worried about ruining my dreams but you breaking up with me is the thing that ruined them huh?” You laugh humorlessly.

“Y/N I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, I know that. I know that I was wrong for what I did and what I said. But Y/N I can’t live without you. These past two weeks have been hell without you and I just want you back. I’m done listening to what other people think I swear.” He replies softly.

“I thought you fell out of love with me? Yeah because I’m too clingy.”

He shakes his head furiously, “That was a lie. I only said it to push you away, like you accused me of when I said it in the first place.”

“You called me pathetic JJ. You told me that you felt bad because I have no other friends and that you knew the pogues would choose you over me because you’re a pogue and I’m a kook.” You reply softly, more hurt now than angry.

“No. No you’re not Y/N. You might have a kook family and live in a kook house on the kook side of the island but you are a pogue. You’ve always been a pogue and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner-“

“You’re an idiot for a lot of things.” I laugh softly and he returns it.

“Yeah I guess I am. My point though, Y/N, is that you are a pogue. In fact the pogues aren’t the pogues without you. Nothing Is right without you. You do have friends, we are your friends. Nothing will change that. Even if you don’t forgive me right away or at all, even if you don’t want to take me back. I don’t care what happens as long as you’re in my life because without you nothing is the same.” Your face softens as you see a tear rolling down his cheek and reach forward to wipe it away.

You stay leaned in, just staring into those blue eyes that you love so much, the same ones that have caused you so much pain in the past to weeks. Finally you sigh and whisper, “Of course I forgive you. My dad got in your head, that’s not your fault. And I’ll admit I am a little stubborn.”

He smiles, “Does at mean?”

“Kiss me you idiot,” You laugh and obeys, cupping your cheek softly as he leans in and kisses you sweetly. After he pulls away he just rests his forehead against yours for a moment, soaking up as much affection as he can after missing it for two weeks.

“You didn’t address the pathetic comment,” You joke, pulling away and he laughs, standing up and offering you his hand.

“I say we go find out friends, yeah?” You take his hand and nod.

“Hey I thought you wanted to go back to my hotel?” The boy from earlier calls out as you two walk past.

“Sorry bro, she’s mine. Hey, maybe you should talk to your friend over there though, she’s been staring at you all night!” JJ calls and you laugh as he pulls you towards the pogues who are now grouped together around a fire.

“Hey! I see you two made up. Did dumbass here finally listen to us and tell you the truth?” Kie yells jokingly as the two of you sit down on a log across from her.

“He did and I’m not letting him take ‘advice’ from my father, or anyone, ever again.” You answer, curling into his side.

“I don’t plan on it. I promise, I’m never leaving you again. What do you say about making your dreams a reality?”

You smile as he wraps his arm around you, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

So here it is, the end 🥺 I hope it did part one some justice and fixed your broken hearts. Can I just take a minute to tell you all how shocked I was when part one blew up? I did not expect it to get that much attention but I’m so happy it did. Ever since I posted it I’ve been reading all of your comments and it makes my heart so happy so thank you 💕 I’ll be writing more soon so if you liked my writing then be on the lookout for that 😉

Taglist- @itsskythoo @rudyypankow @downbytheouterbanks @obxlife @justsomegirlontheinternet @alltimekp @starkeybaby @timotaychalabae @fernweh-fangirl @howdyherron @mavelfanatic @hotel-colson @yeehaw87 @sofiluvschu (I hope I didn’t forget anybody!)

#jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #jj x reader #obx jj #multifandom

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bonkers-4-hatter · 4 years

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Anon asked: Overhaul from mha with a insecure chubby s/o! It’s ok if you haven’t seen him or aren’t comfortable with him! I understand!

Gotcha anon! I’m not gonna lie, I’m a simp for this man (along with so many others) I’m good with writing him! I just hope I do him justice is all! Enjoy!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of insecurities and some rude ass comments from a loved one. It might trigger those affected by this. Please be warned.

Also side note, this is another long one ya’ll! Like I couldn’t stop writing. I’m sorry if you guys don’t like these long headcanons, but I just couldn’t stop and I hope I did this charcter justice with these! <3

When he first met you, he honestly didn’t care about you, you were just another pawn in his plan and it was that way for a while.

At the start of your relationship, whenever you brought your insecurities up, he would just ignore you.

“Your insecurities mean nothing to me, there’s other things to worry about in this filthy world”

The more time he spends with you, the more he warms up to you.

It makes him very standoffish at first, he’ll insult you and poke at you and your insecurities in hopes of waving off these weird feelings.

“Instead of complaining, do something about it (Y/N).”

“Every time I see you, you’re eating, maybe you wouldn’t be so big if you put down the fork.”

Not going to lie, he’s going to be an even bigger dick as he tries to figure out his feelings.

“Maybe I should’ve found someone else that fits my standards.”

He wouldn’t hold you at night in your shared bed anymore the more he tries to push you away.

“Why would I want to hold someone so unappealing? I have a reputation to uphold, or did you forget (Y/N)?”

Your only solace during that time is Eri. You know the poor girl has been through hell and back and you know you can’t do much, but you can give her that love and support she craves.

When Kai spews those hurtful words, instead of crying as you would, you spent time with Eri.

She brought you comfort when all Chisaki brought you was a crushed soul.

Reading, playing dress up, cooking and just having Eri around brightened you up so much and helped you with your insecurities.

“(Y/N), can we bake cookies today? I like them, they’re yummy!”

“Can I hear the story about the Princess and the Frog? I love the way you tell it, it’s so funny!”

Chisaki notices your improvement in your mood...he’s noticed for a while actually.

You haven’t had a conversation or really looked at him in months and if he was honest with himself...he missed you.

Missed your touch, your laugh, the softness you had and the warmth you emitted. He honestly thought pushing you away was the best option, but in the end it only hurt him and you more.

He took time to come to terms that he loved you...deeply. You no longer were a pawn on a chess board like everyone else, no, you were his Queen and he realized how much he fucked up.

Of course he noticed you coddling Eri more and caring for her more than before. The way you interacted with the child and how much you smiled around her brought a dull throb to his chest.

One night when you both were in your shared bed, turned away from each other as was the usual he decided to finally talk to you and get everything else out in the open.

Turning around, his eyes landed on your back, head laid on the pillow and not moving giving the illusion of you sleeping, but he knew better. You were still awake.

Placing a hand on your protruding hip, the warmth you radiated brought him a sense of comfort.

“(Y/N)...can we talk?” His gruff voice whispered against your ear, his hand caressing up and down your exposed side.

“What is it Kai?” Your monotone voice wasn’t what made him pause his soft touches, it was the use of his name. You usually called him a pet name or at least, ‘Chis-kun’.

Hearing you just call him Kai was another blow. He had to fix this otherwise he feared he was going to lose you for good.

Gripping your supple hip, a quiet gasp escaped your lips, head turning to look back at him.

Sitting up, he quickly gripped both of your hips and flipped you over so you were settled on his lap, large hands grasping your softness, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your soft flesh.

“Let me go Kai,” You struggled against his strong hold not particularly liking your current position. You were not ready for more verbal assaults from him about your insecurities.

“I miss those pet names...your laugh...(Y/N)...I miss you.”

Your struggles stopped as you stared down at him, his unmasked face settled in an unreadable expression, but his eyes...were sad. In all of your time knowing this man, you’ve never seen his eyes this crestfallen before.

Kai showing emotion was something you never expected, even going into a relationship, but now they were clear as day to you.

“What?” You opened and closed your mouth a few times, still trying to grasp this whole situation. “What happened to you?”

It was a valid question, a bit insensitive, sure, but given the names and shit he’s said to you, this was minimal.

“I felt something I haven't felt before with you and I thought ignoring you and pushing you away would make me feel better...foolish on my part really, it made me crave you more (Y/N).”

Large hands skimmed down your bare legs sending shivers up your spine. His words made your face flush at how genuine they were. You knew when Kai was lying and in this instance, he wasn’t.

“I’m...I’m sorry for those things I said to you, the moments where I was supposed to comfort you, I belittled you, I’ll try harder to be a better lover if you’ll give me another chance.”

His hands were still rubbing up and down your chunky legs as he said those words. Holding you close to him like this probably brought him comfort as he tried to tell you his feelings, something he wasn’t used to.

Cupping his cheek, his eyes softened, something you weren’t used to, but a gesture you would love to see more of in the future.

“You were awful, worse than any of my own insecurities honestly and Eri was the only thing that lifted my spirits and made me feel happy all these months...it’s going to take time to build up that trust we had. Those words cut so deep, I understand trying to figure out feelings, but hun...there’s better ways to figure out your feelings without hurting those around you.”

Lifting a hand from one of your legs, Chisaki cupped your soft cheek, thumb caressing your soft jawline. It was nice to see this different side of Chisaki, being open and vulnarable with you and telling you about how he felt was new territory for your relationship and it made you happy to know he was trying and letting you in, even just a little bit.

“I know that now (Y/N), please give me another chance, I love you, you are the only person to see me like this,” His hand on your cheek slid around to the back of your neck, pulling you down to him, lips inches apart. You shuddered at the sensation of being so close to him again. “I love everything about you and I know I haven't told you that, let me show you everything I love about you and this body of yours and I’ll show you and tell you everyday just how beautiful you are, to hell with those insecurities of yours.”

You felt your eyes grow wet, the sinsirety of his words hitting you deep. Without another thought, you pressed your lips aginst his, chubby hands sliding around to the back of his head, fingers tangling themselves into his soft black locks as the kiss grew heated.

Rolling the both of you over, Kai was on top of you, hands and feet moving position so he was above you, caging you on the bed.

“Seeing you flushed and gasping for air makes me want to take you, mark you as mine for all to see.”

Biting your lip, more heat rose to your round cheeks. “Then do it Chis-Kun,” Moving your head to the side, you exposed more of your neck, his favorite place to mark you when he does. “Mark me all you want.”

Without a second thought, he dove into your neck, mouth latching onto the soft, plush skin of your neck and started sucking marks onto your delicate skin.

After that night which ended with both you and Chis-Kun tangled in the bedsheets, marks littering both of your bodies and content expressions on both of your faces, he held true to his words.

Whenever your insecurities got the best of you, he was there to reassure you, tell you how wonderful you were and to listen to him and not those negative voices.

He’d hold you if you were having a bad image day and no matter what he had to do that day, it was moved because you were his priority.

When you were with Eri, taking care of her, he’d show up and iinteract with both of you, of course, he wouldn’t show too much affection since Eri was there, but seeing you take care of the young girl makes him yearn to have kids of his own with you.

Talks to you more about emotions and what he’s feeling. Does still get frustrated when he can’t find the right words and will either storm off, or not talk to you for a while.

Will come back with a clear mind and try again with what he was trying to say. Usually when he comes to bed and finds comfort in your warmth.

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originalwinnercheesecake · 3 years

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Chain of Iron theories: Who is the Killer

Its coming up on a week since last made a COI theory post. I said that I was going to try to post all my theories on COI BEFORE it comes out next month, so this posed a problem. So mow I am going to give my input on one of the biggest Mystery’s for COI, Who is the Killer? So in COI Belial will have a new minion who will target the shadowhunters, manages to kill 5 of them (same number Tatiana needed for the ritual) and is difficult for them to apprehend because they are somehow able to disappear. CC has left some hints that the killer is actually another Shadowhunter that Belial has somehow managed taken Possession of, despite protection rituals that should have been placed on this individual at birth ( My theory on that is that since this book is called “Chain of Iron” we will learn that Belial controls all his pawns with “chains of iron”. All hidden on their persons and glamored to look like ordinary accessories.) Our synapse for the book says that James Herondale has been having strange nightmares and fears he may actually be the killer. In COI he will start to tie himself up to sleep at night. We all know its not James right? In mysteries like this you always throw out your first guess/ the obvious guess. I have seen a lot of posts theorizing on who the true identity could be. I have seen some theories do not make much sense to me and some that were really good.

One theory that seems off to me is the idea that the killer is actually multiple killers, more specifically a collection of the survivors of Belial’s illness. If you support this theory I get your reasoning:Belial was able to briefly posses these people before, and the illness may have left biological changes in them. But here’s where I am confused, the killer is implied to be a massive threat wielding enhanced dark magic. At the end of COA there are 30something cured shadowhunters released from Silent City. CC says that the killers body count will be 5. If Belial has 30something new pawns that he can posses, gift his terrible powers to, and send out to prey on shadowhunters, I feel like there should be a lot more than 5 victims. I know Beial is not yet at full strength from battling Cortana, but he should at least be stronger than that. I have also heard theories that it is one of the Blackthorns. This also does not make much sense to me, given that for one thing none of them have training, Tatiana and Grace already have established rolls in Belial’s plans, and while I know Jesse is a part of Belial’s plan I believe his part will be save for COT after he has been resurrected. IF Belial were using Jesse’s empty body to walk the earth, then wouldn’t he also need to stop anyone from trying to resurrect Jesse?

I have heard many theories on Elias Carstairs being the killer. Many of them just want to make Elias out to be CC’s newest and most horrible monster parent, and absolve Alastair of any responsibility or need to apologize for the cruelty he has shown to our mains. If this is your reasoning for believing Elias is the killer than let me stop you right there. CC has written multiple series and her skills have evolved beyond the need to rely on such easy black and white tricks. But I also saw some people posting about how Elias goes home so late and stopped writing to his family. Some are theorizing that the real Elias Carstairs was intercepted and killed on his way back home and that the being that arrives in COI is actually an eidolon demon pretending to be Elias. This theory is AMAZING. It makes a lot of scenes, would give Belial another spy in a key place, and could potentially explain why Cortana starts acting so weird. I love this theory I do. I am just putting it t the side right now because I need the real Elias alive for other Carstairs family theories, and again have been working with the theory that the killer is a real shadowhunter whom Belial is controlling with another “chain of iron”. My theories are below.

1.) Lucie Herondale is the Killer

I am working with he theory that all Belial’s pawns have “chains of Iron” on them, which means all three blackthorns have them. In old art CC released of Grace she is seen wearing a pearl necklace that I was convinced had to be her’s. Tatiana’s (who probably consented to wearing hers) could be anything, maybe that stupid, creepy bird, she wears in her hat. Jesse... is mentioned several times to wear a locket.... that we know is connected to Belial.... and was weakened when he took it off to give to Lucie... who is wearing it now. Do you people see where I am going with this? It can also be noted that one of the parts of Lucie’s arc is that she is frequently overlooked in favor of James and how that is a mistake on peoples parts. Everybody knows that James has powers, he has had 4-5 years of people helping him figure out what they are and how to control them. Nobody but ghosts know that Lucie has powers, she has no training, and is only starting to understand what they mean. James is vulnerable but so is Lucie. I do not want her to be the killer. Lucie is such a fun character, and I was so happy to finally have a female Herondale play a role that was close in size to her male relative’s. I truly feel that Lucie deserves better than to be just a tragic character in the story. I want her to be that plus a hero, but I cannot deny that she is a possibility.

2.) Charles Fairchild is the Killer

I have seen Charles name appear on multiple lists of theory’s on the killer’s identity. People never really give reasons as to why they believe he is the killer. They are just mad at him for choosing to put his career higher on his list of priorities than his relationship with Alastair, or him being the killer would hurt less because he is not written to be a fan favorite. If you are someone who wants the killer to be Charles, but are unsure how likely it is your in luck. Because I can give you a whole list of reasons it is likely

Charles is already acting strange. We know he made some kinda screw up in Paris and had to come home. Apparently Charlotte is sending Tessa and Will to Paris to Start the fix up and Charles will go back afterwards. Well based on what we have gotten on Charles making a mistake like that is unlike him. Casting Long Shadow’s reveals that Charles has been working as a politician since he was 13 and is normally known for being very dependable and reliable. That’s part of the reason he is considered such a shoe-in for Counselor once his mother retires.??? I have theories on Charles mental state (which I will address in a later theory post that will be centered around the Fairchild’s) and do consider the possibility that he was sett off by fear over the outbreak or grief over losing Alastair... But this sudden change could be from other things as well

As of COG2 Charles is engaged to Grace Blackthorn, who controls him like a puppet. Grace herself is the puppet of Tatiana Blackthorn, who is the puppet of Belial. So Charles is now part of a very dangerous carnival. Charles decade of study and knowledge of clave politics at the top could be very useful to Belial in taking them down. Also previous short stories say that Charles spends most of his time in Idris for work and when in London usually stays at home going through law books and records. So I could easily believe he does not completely know his way around London and (like the killer is hinted to) would need to use a map to get around.

Now on to my biggest reason for theorizing Charles for the killer. Charles and Matthew’s relationship with each other. Charles and Matthew do not get along, like at all. They did once, but that was a real long time ago. A lot of the reasons they don’t get along is dumb sibling stuff: Charles calling Matthew an immature child, kicking him and his friends out of rooms in their house, and lording his increased age over Matthew. Matthew making more noise to annoy Charles, telling everyone Charles embarrassing middle name, and regularly sneaking into Charles room to steal his cologne instead of just buying his own. We are not hear to discuss any of that. All of that has me laughing because it is peak sibling rivalry. Rivalry aside Charles and Matthew model the old dynasty trope for Ssons with Charles being “the Heir” and Matthew being “the Spare”. The Heir’s life is decided for them as soon as they are born, they will succeed their parent and continue their legacy. The Spare is just that, a back up plan kept around should the heir die, become disabled, never marry, or turn out to be infertile (happens way more than people like to think about). Charles struggles with the weight of his parents expectations. Matthew is more or less the Black sheep of his family, living his life day by day with no grand plan. Because of this he is cut off from them in a way, and goes through a lot of loneliness and isolation in his own house. Neither brother see’s the others hard time; the other has what they themselves want: Charles has attention, Matthew freedom, so they wrongly assume the other must be doing fine. This is a lot like Matthew and James relationship in Dust and Shadows. Matthew and James talked things over with each other and were good after. Matthew and Charles stay apart and ignore each other when they cannot. They will not just talk and be good after. So maybe if put on different sides they will fight out their issues with each other? On the subject of Matthew having to fight Charles, lets say hypothetically Charles is the killer and is possessed. We know from previous books that clave protocol is to place a kill order on possessed members. If that becomes the case do you think Matthew would be able to follow through with those orders? Be able to hunt, fight, and kill his older brother? No. No matter how rough their relationship I doubt Matthew would ever be able to do that. It would be to much for him, to similar to his “sin”. He would want to catch Charles, then try to find a way to free him from possession. Maybe if Mathew could successfully accomplish this then maybe he could forgive himself for his “sin”. If Matthew tries to save him and fails than at least this time other people would know and could potentially get him some help.

3.) Filomena DI Angelo is the Killer.

Ahh our upcoming new arrival from Italy. Why are you coming to London girl? Haven’t you heard about all the crazy things that happens there last fall? What possible role could you play in the story that couldn’t be filled by one of our many already existing characters from COG2? (Do you even know your way around?) How suspicious that Filomena should show up around the same time as this killer? Wouldn’t it be great for the story if the killer came from a different country? Wouldn’t that do wonders for showing how powerful a threat Belial is? His dark influence stretching across country lines, maybe even across oceans! We have already been told that TLH characters will need to travel to other countries. How the villain is less one person and more a force. Filomena could start that. She could provide reason to search countries besides London for Belial’s influence. Proof of it being so wide spread would definitely make Belial feel more like a force. Oh but wait, cheesecake wait. Filomena cannot be the killer! That would make her evil, and CC said she was a nice girl! Oh I am sure Filomena is a nice girl, but people tend to change when under demon control. But she is a girl and the killer is hinted to be a male shadow hunter! Are we sure the killer isn’t presented as male because Belial is presented as male? Is it impossible that while on the hunt as the killer Filomena DI Angelo dress in men’s cloths in order to more safely move through the streets? I feel like we have saw that trick once before in TID.

All we really know about Filomena is that she came to London, will interact with some of our established characters, and she will get a crush on someone we know, thus presenting herself as a possible love interest. Matthew was my first guess, hey he was every bodies first guess. CC shut that down, Filomena is not being brought in to fix the love triangle between James, Cordeila, and Matthew. Matthew is one of the only ones to not have at a least semi-confirmed endgame ship. So this means that Filomena will probably not be endgame with her crush. Why? My next guess was her crush was on Anna. Ariadne is shown to be relentless in her attempts to “win Anna back” and Anna is not having it. Tweets time and time again depict her basically telling Ariadne “Its not going to happen. Give up and leave me alone”, but falling on deaf ears. So maybe Anna will try to get a new girlfriends and keep her around until she is ready to forgive/ go back to Ariadne. Well Anna is more a secondary character, a loving big sister figure to our mains. She gets less page time because of this. We already know she will spend time with Cordelia, Lucie, Ariadne, Eugenia, Thomas... not much page time left for Filomena. After further analyses I have theorized that Filomena must have a crush on Thomas.

A quick google search on the name Filomena shows that it is an Italian name that means “loving friend” “strong friend” and “lover of music” all these sound kinda like Thomas. (Filomena is also the name of a character in the 14th century Italian collection of short stories called the Decameron, who liked to make stories up about plagues... or so some digging around google told me ). This could fit quite nicely into Thomas’s story. First of all to everybody who has been calling Thomas “gay” please wait a moment to be sure. Thomas does not yet publicly or self identify as gay. He clearly has an attraction to one man, but CC says that he has not yet realized his sexuality and will spend TLH figuring out. He might be gay, but he could just as easily turn out to be bi or pan. For the sake of this theory lets assume Thomas is Bi. Thomstair is definitely endgame. We know Alastair is gay, and CC usually likes to pair gay characters up with bi characters in queer ships, see Malec and Heline. Should Thomas be bi, should he start to become close and develop feelings for Filomena, it will have to go wrong. More wrong than he considers his feelings for Alastair at the end of COG2 (Filomena do not hurt this boy, he has been through enough). We got a tweet that suggests Thomas is interested in the killer, and a hint that he is planing something big. We got a kinda frightening picture that suggests the Killer may be very interested in Thomas.

If Lucie is the killer she will somehow be freed from Belial’s control,. I can 100% guarantee it, Charles I feel will have a 50/50 chance, Filomena will die from it. It would be a herculean task to free her, and she is not important enough to the mains for them to actively try and do anything more than give her a merciful death. Should she and Thomas become close than it will break his heart. But if Alastair is there for him afterwards, able to emphasizes and offer him comfort that will go along way to redeeming Alastair to Thomas. The whole experience could be love is hard, both men and women have the ability to hurt you. but the right person will make it up to you and it is good to forgive them when they do. I personally think that would be a pretty cool direction for Thomas’s arc to take.

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ronsenburg · 3 years

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i saw this post and IMMEDIATELY started writing an essay, so I moved it here so as not to clutter up someone else’s post...........

it absolutely blows my mind that, today in 2021, i honestly can’t remember what’s canon from the turnabout serenade case, what i read in a fanficition, and what is my own personal HC. like, it’s been more than a decade since i played the case for the first time and it’s probably been 5ish years since the last time i played AJ (definitely forgot to play it again before writing youngblood which is.... contributing to this) so i really don’t know if what goes on in my head is accurate, but, over the years, i’ve come up with a Lot of Thoughts, which i’ll discuss below.

tldr; it’s all about power (the desire for, the subversion of, the need to maintain), but if you’d like the specifics, here you go:

daryan: i think the explanation that he did it for “the money” is a line. please don’t mistake me, daryan is an asshole and a murderer, im not discounting that, but in court ive always thought that he was playing the part that everyone- especially klavier- is expecting of him. he’s the bad guy. might as well make it a finale for the books.

i’ve always seen daryan and klavier as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to family and career aspirations. where i imagine klavier came from a well off and well loved family before his parents died, i see daryan from a working class, difficult upbringing. i read a few papers on the psychology of children/parenting style of police officers and decided early on that daryan’s dad was also a cop. his mother is either dead or (more likely) left them early on. dad coped by working a little too hard, gambling/drinking a little too much, and was overall not around a lot and kind of an authoritarian/controller when he was. it left daryan with a lot of anger he had to cope with, about what it means to be a cop, the idea of a “just cause” and the ends justifying the means, and an issue with authority (which is laughable, considering what a bully he turned out to be. sometimes we emulate our parents unintentionally; it’s the only thing we have to model our behavior on). so daryan started off at a disadvantage. klavier started off loved and supported and surrounded by expensive belongings, but the death of his parents and the subsequent emotional and financial abuse by his newly appointed guardian/brother left him in a similar place by the time he and daryan met. i think it was probably the foundation for their bond, and i think it’s why klavier decided to become a prosecutor instead of following in his brother’s footsteps and why daryan ultimately decided to enter law enforcement as well. i think they had a lot of optimistic, idealistic thoughts on being better than the people that hurt them, on utilizing the law to make the world a better place. i don’t think klavier ever conceived that kristoph could have wanted him in the prosecutors office as another pawn to play, and i don’t think he realized how fluid daryan’s morality could be.

shipping alert—you guys know me, im crazy for the idea of a “best friends to on again off again lovers to tenuous coworkers to bitterly disappointed in but still harboring feelings for the other person despite being on opposite sides” dynamic between daryan and klavier. i honestly can’t separate the ship from the case and im sorry about it. if you read youngblood you know that i think daryan started to resent klavier pretty early on, when they were still together, when the band was still successful, because klavier was able to move forward and work through the issues of his past while daryan was seemingly stuck. yes, daryan had made detective and the gavinners were a hit, he’d risen above his initial social standing and thrown off the control his father, he had money and fame and a future. but everything he had was because of klavier. daryan needed klavier, emotionally, morally, financially. but even when klavier was professing his love for daryan, both privately and in the form of chart topping songs, he didn’t need daryan. it was obvious (and of course, healthy, but how do children of abuse learn what a healthy relationship looks like without help? especially when the only relationships you’ve ever had are codependent and, in some ways, just as toxic?) and so things spiraled. daryan got possessive and angry again and klavier got distant and they broke up and got back together and broke up and didn’t get back together but kept ending up back in each other’s arms for comfort and for support and because how the hell do you move on when the person you’ve been in love with since you were 15 is sitting next to you on a tour bus and is also your partner in a homicide case and singing songs he wrote about you on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans?

okay, shipping glasses off, sorry. but no matter how you look at their relationship, daryan’s promotion out of homicide was probably the most distance they’d had from each other in years, as it removed a large chunk of the daily “working relationship” aspect. and without klavier there to act as a moral compass, it was likely easier to slip back into his earlier thoughts about what constitutes justice and his intense hatred of being pushed around by someone who has more power than you. so enter the chief justice with a son who is sick, dying even, but can’t get the medicine he needs because there’s a government out there telling them no. The reasons are arbitrary: the medicine could be used as a poison and can’t be found anywhere else so it might come back to bite the country in the ass if it’s misused by criminals. newsflash: pretty much all medicine is poisonous if it isn’t used correctly, should we stop using penicillin entirely because some people might be allergic to it? they’ve essentially condemned a whole bunch of people to death because they’re worried about their reputation. and that doesn’t sit well with daryan, who is caught up remembering the bullshit justifications his dad would spout when he knocked him around, that kristoph would give when withholding every single penny of money klavier was entitled to until he agreed to do what kristoph wanted. it isn’t right, it isn’t fair and unfair laws shouldn’t have to be upheld, especially when they’re the unfair laws of a country you most definitely did not swear to uphold and protect. it was never about money, though daryan agrees to take it when the chief offers it to him, more for his comfort level than for daryan’s need or desire. it’s about justice and putting a bully in it’s place with a (seemingly) victimless crime that should be so easy given his role in the international division of criminal affairs and klavier’s sudden hard on for the country of borginia. seriously, how could this have been any more straightforward? daryan is capable of murder, though. all cops are. and if it came down to a “them or me” shootout, of course he’d pull the trigger.

machi: when you come from nothing, the desire to have something of your own is overwhelming. the idea that machi is famous and financially set is disingenuous; he is not individually famous, he is Lamiroir’s “blind” pianist. yes, she views him as a son and seems to care deeply for him, but his main purpose in her life is to perpetuate a lie. machi has been abandoned before; what will happen to him if lamiroir suddenly remembers who she was in the past? what if she has a family and a true son of her own and has no use for him? what if their secret is found out and the public rejects him for his role in it? he is 14. what does he know about being provided for? about contracts and trust funds and royalties? he ended up in an orphanage originally because he was unwanted, and that led to a life of poverty and hardship. abandonment issues are rooted in fear and are rarely logical. i find it far easier to believe that machi did it for the money, but more for the power money might have given him towards independence in an unfeeling and capitalist world.

kristoph: i won’t get into this, because this is supposed to be about daryan and machi and the guitar’s serenade, and kristoph is not really involved in that at all. but i think everything that kristoph has ever done in the game, good or bad, is rooted in a pathological need to constantly be in control. i think that kristoph and klavier both have very intense personalities that they have sought to control over the course of their lives for the sake of their careers. kristoph believes that to be a good lawyer, you need to play your cards close to your chest, that to show your hand is to expose a weakness that the enemy can exploit, that to show no weaknesses at all places you in a position of power. klavier believes that to show his true self, to display his weaknesses and fears to the public, would result only in their rejection. as such, they both wear masks of their own creation even under the most intense of pressures: kristoph as pleasant and calm, klavier as magnetic and dynamic. note the primary difference in their rational? klavier wants to be wanted, while kristoph wants power. and power corrupts, after all. once you have it, what could be more overwhelming than the idea that you might lose it all? it can drive even the most rational people to commit acts of passionate irrationality in the name of holding on to that power. and kristoph has so many pieces involved in his strategy to maintain.

#i love daryan crescend i'm so sorry #i cut this to spare you all the pain of my rambling and also my inability to use caps and proper punctuation #gonna tag this as klavdar so you can avoid it just in case it bothers you #i think it's hilarious that this is JUST AS MUCH ABOUT KLAVIER as it is about any of these other people #shut up krissy #i have a lot of feelings about this case okay #man i'm still obsessed with lamiroir and machi's portrayal in 'dirty sympathy'#excellent stuff i'm going to go read that again #klavdar #i don't think i ever managed to squeeze in my hc about the specifics of kristophs abuse towards klavier into any fics #specifically the financial aspects of it #but its absolutely an effective weapon #klavier's money from his parents would absolutely be in a trust and controlled by kristoph until he was legally able to access it #he would have to ask kristoph for EVERYTHING #can you imagine how easy that would be for kristoph to turn against him? as a means of control? i just......#broke: kristoph physically abused klavier when he was a kid #woke: kristoph didn't have to abuse klavier when he could manipulate him so completely with money and mind games #all the while making klavier believe that he was truly looking out for him and any hurt klavier experienced was selfish and misguided #and klavier's fault #:|

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