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licorice-tea · 4 months

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Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet)

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: strawhat!reader, gender neutral reader, feelings and fluff (my faves🤞🏽), so much tension, no resolution of that tension… yet😏, lowkey “i hate everyone but you” trope, very brief mention of some canon typical violence, but no actual violence <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: lalalalala i love law😇 i actually wrote about twice as much as what’s here to begin with, but i felt like it was too long for one post, so i might upload it as a second part later if anyone wants that! as always ty for the love, and i hope you enjoy! (did i write this instead of finishing part 3 of my Zoro mini series? perchance. (that will be up soon though!))

Part 2

It’s a day like any other on board the Thousand Sunny- calm waters, music, occasional shouting, and just one abnormality. Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, is a guest on board the Strawhat Crew’s ship in the aftermath of Dressrosa. And despite their hospitality, he finds practically everything about life on board their ship to be draining…

Every potentially quiet moment is interrupted by the crew’s shenanigans.

For starters: the cook and swordsman argue over every little thing, and most of their arguments escalate into fights. The navigator is actually a petty thief or a con-artist at best, and her double, the sniper, takes it upon himself to cause dangerous explosions at least once a day. The musician is an incredibly loud pervert, though the shipwright is somehow even louder and more dramatic. The archeologist is alright- she’s quiet, but Law finds her constant observation more eery than comforting. And the captain is still somehow convinced that his doctor could be used as a source of “emergency food.” Then there’s you; the one who brings whatever you’re working on at the time up to the deck so you can work in the sunlight, wears your weapons like they’re accessories, who only takes breaks from working to visit with your nakama, and always offers a charming smile when you catch Law staring… which happens multiple times in the course of the day.

Law is often irritated, rigid, and cold- so different from your own optimistic and nonchalant demeanor. At breakfast, he doesn’t talk much. Just eats his meal and thanks Sanji before excusing himself to go pour over anatomy books from the ship’s library. He does so for hours, not once joining the Strawhat Crew on deck or even taking time to explore the ship on his own. Nami frequents the library, as well, but she’s taken to drawing maps in her room or on deck since their guests arrival. When night begins to settle overhead, he may return to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, before going right back to his work.

At first, one might have been inclined to think Law didn’t like y/n at all. They can often see his gaze trained on them form from the corner of their eye, but chooses to ignore it sometimes and address it with a smile others. He almost never speaks to them if possible, only offering a nod or a mumbled response to whatever they says. But, he goes out of his way to sit by them at mealtimes and to find himself in the same narrow hallways as them, so that their arms brush. Those are the moments he obsesses over in his mind while he dozes off from his textbooks- the feel of their skin against his, and their kind acknowledgements- always void of harsh judgment.

It’s not just the lack of cruelty in essentially eveything they do, to Law; it’s the presence of love. Love for their nakama, their work, people and places they barely know, even him. He doesn’t recall ever having met someone so full of love that goes beyond superficial kindness- because they can be sarcastic and moody at times- besides perhaps Corazon.

And to y/n, there’s just something about Law that peaks their interests. Maybe it’s the feeling of having someone new around, or something even more indescribable and foreign to the pirate.

Zoro is asleep in the men’s cabin tonight, so y/n is keeping watch. It’s the usual arrangement for the 2 night owls of the crew- when Zoro has truly exhausted his body, he sleeps below deck with the others, and y/n has no trouble staying up through the night.

They turn on some quiet music on their speaker, a must have for any music lover. For a while, they just watch the sea and sky. Nights at sea are like a blackout. But, there is no need for light with strong eyesight and the even stronger moon and starlight.

So it’s no surprise that they see, just out of the corner of their peripheral vision, the top of a white and black speckled hat bobbing up and down as it moves toward the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widen ever so slightly and their breath catches in their throat. The guest makes them feel silly, in a way, for not being able to discern their own feelings toward him, nor his toward them. They get so caught up in their thoughts about him that eventually they give up. Y/n shakes their head, mentally chastising themself for even being embarrassed or flustered in the first place. And with that confidence boost, they decide to go talk to him.

Next thing they know, y/n is standing before the kitchen door with no plan in mind for what they’re going to say to their crew’s ally. They open the door, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee brewing on the stove.

Y/n clears their throat to announce their presence, and Law whips his head around to see who it is. They offer a friendly smile and a little wave.

“Hi.” They speak softly, as if afraid to break the peace of the night.

A beat passes with no response from Law. Internally, he wishes they hadn’t walked in on him at this moment. The light from the overhead lamp catches in their eyes, and he feels entirely too seen. Not in the way he feels seen by someone like Robin, though, whose constant observation makes him feel uncomfortable; like one wrong move and he’ll have hell to pay for. No; y/n sees him and he’s scared that he might start spewing nonsense to avoid revealing his feelings. And suddenly his cheeks are on fire, and everything is quiet, and all he can focus on is the stars in their eyes that he tries so desperately to look away from.

They tilt their head, likely in concern, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to mumble, “Hey.”

“Cant sleep?” y/n questions, their starry eyes (as described by Law) flickering over the coffee pot on the counter and back to him.

Law shrugs, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes to hopefully hide his warm face. “I wasn’t trying to sleep.”

“Hm…” they hum in response, “Want to keep watch with me then? If you aren’t busy.”

He thinks they’re just being friendly, like always. When they first met, Law was confused. It made no sense for someone so mild mannered to have a bounty of well over 500 million (now almost double that amount in the time that’s passed), though he didn’t doubt that looks could be deceiving. But even in the midst of battle, of which the two had been in several together, they refused to take kill shots or anything of the sort. So he was still unsure of how they had earned such an impressive reward for their capture. Still, they clearly had a high regard for life, and he had come to learn that they truly were just that kind hearted, not to mention witty and generous. And judging by the “Sora: Warrior of The Sea” sticker he’d noticed on small a journal they carried, which was one amongst many; a bit of a nerd, too. All of these things and more had made Law secretly impartial to them. Or at least, those were the reasons he has listed in his mind to make sense of these feelings.

So he nodded, much to their surprise, and mumbled again “Sure.”

The curve of their smile opens up into a grin, and y/n leaves while fully expecting Law to follow (whenever his coffee was ready.) Which, he does.

#part 2?#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #law x reader #x reader #law fluff #trafalgar law #law x you #straw hats #straw hat pirates #straw hat reader #teehee #i love writing fanfic😇#new hobby😈

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nipuni · 2 months

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Happy finishing Dr Who!

I saw you've been watching other David Tennant things - have you seen his and Catherine Tate's version of much ado about nothing? Very good chaotic vibes and I highly reccomend. It's on the internet archive.

Do you have any favourite dr who eps?

Thank you so much!! 🥰 We have and we love it! So far from his filmography we have watched: Taking Over the Asylum, Blackpool, Casanova, Einstein and Eddington, Hamlet, Much Ado About Nothing, Richard II, Decoy Bride, The Escape Artist, Broadchurch, Mad to be Normal, Around the World in 80 Days, Inside Man, Good Omens and Doctor Who of course 😊

As for favourite DW episodes ooohhh there are so so many, let me pull up a list so I can go in season order 😆

S1: Father's day, The empty child/The doctor dances, Bad wolf/The parting of the ways

S2: The Christmas Invasion, New Earth, The Girl in the Fireplace, The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit, Army of Ghosts/Doomsday

S3: Gridlock, 42, Human Nature/The Family of Blood, Blink, Utopia/The Sound of Drums/The Last of the Time Lords

S4: Voyage of the Damned, Fires of Pompeii, The Doctor's Daughter, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, Midnight, Turn left

Specials 2008: The Next Doctor, The Waters of Mars, The End of Time I and II

S5: The Beast Below, Vincent and the Doctor, The Lodger, The Big Bang

S6: A Christmas Carol, The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon, The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People, The Girl Who Waited, The Wedding of River Song

S7: The Rings of Akhaten, Hide, The Name of the Doctor, The Day of the Doctor

S8: Deep Breath, Listen, Mummy on the Orient Express

S9: Last Christmas, Under the Lake, The Zygon Inversion, Heaven Sent, The Husbands of River Song

S10: The Pilot, Oxygen, The Pyramid at the End of the World, World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls, Twice Upon a Time

S11: It Takes You Away

S12: Spyfall part I, Fugitive of the Judoon, The Haunting of Villa Diodati

S13: The Halloween Apocalypse, Eve of the Daleks, The Power of the Doctor

Specials 2023: Wild Blue Yonder

and if I had to pick my most favourites I think they would beeee The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, Doomsday, The Family of Blood, Blink, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, Midnight, The waters of Mars, The End of time I and II, The day of the Doctor, Heaven Sent, The doctor falls and Wild Blue Yonder 🥰

This ended up being so long I'm so sorry 😭 AHH we are already rewatching and loving it even more the second time so this list will just get longer over time lmao

Thank you for the message!! I had so much fun answering this 😊❤️

#doctor who #david tennant #nips replies #dw report

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sgt-reckless · 2 months

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I have finished watching all of the RTD and Moffat seasons of Dr Who!

General vibes of each season:

S1: Perfect, No notes

S2: A pretty good season, plays it safer than S1

S3: Marta, my beloved. And we get the master, who is great. An absolutely jam packed last half of the season, from Human Nature 2parter to Blink to finale trilogy

S4: God, I love Donna. Such a season fun. Turn left is one of my favourite episodes of Dr who, easily. The masters Lightning powers are goofy AF.

S5: You can tell everyone is sort of getting used to the change in show runner, don't super love the start of the season but Amy's choice and beyond are all pretty good.

S6: The River Song season! A lot of good episodes, you can Def tell they were having fun here. The season arc is not great though, especially how it resolves.

S7: Easily my least favourite season of pre-chibbnal NuWho. Why are Amy and Rory back? What's the point? It just takes up time from Clara, who I actually quite like in this season, but she Def needs more characterization in this season. Power of Three is a really good episode, minus its real quick ending. Bells of Saint John is such a bad episode.

S8: Pretty solid season, minus two absolute stinkers in the later half (Kill the Moon and In The Forest of The Night). We get missy and Danny pink this season, and more focus on Clara! It's pretty good.

S9: Season 9 is either real good or pretty boring. Hell Bent and Zygon Inversion are stunning episodes, Heaven sent is a nice end to Clara's story. Husbands of River Song is a super nice Christmas episode. Ashildr/Me did nothing for me, I think Maisie Williams was still trying to do that naturistic acting that stuff like she did on GoT and that doesn't super work with the energy of Doctor Who.

S10: My favourite season, not a truly bad episode in there. Worst is probably the Lie of The Land, mostly just BC the ending falls on its face. But every other one hits and hits hard, even like Smile which is a super good filler episode. Twice upon a time is a very nice final episode.

#doctor who #dr who #9th doctor #10th doctor #11th doctor #12th doctor

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comfortpickles · 2 years

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finished my re-watch of the show & read brenda’s interview about what happens after the finale, and wanted to think up my own interpretation of what happens to the characters after the show - based off a blend of the canon, the actor’s person opinions on what would have happened to their characters , and also my own opinion on what would have been realistic for everyone. just for fun! under a cut because its long and i cringe at myself

Ricky stays single for awhile after Amy leaves, focusing on his education and parenting john. Starts to reconnect with Clementine, as friends but also a sweet and innocent crush on both ends as they study together and hang out around the coffeeshop often.

Shortly after they get together - bam! Amy comes back after their agreed upon summer semester in NY, and decides to go to school in CA. She wants Ricky back and to reunite as a little family - still confused and conflicted about what she wants in life. Fueled by a sense of obligation and some semblance of love, Ricky sadly dumps Clementine and gets back with Amy.

They make it official and marry with a courthouse wedding, bringing only John and their parents along - not wanting to waste time on planning a wedding for a third time. They convince themselves that they’re really in love this time, but ultimately, they don’t. Ricky misses Clementine and Amy finally admits there is no excuse behind it, she just doesn’t want to be married to Ricky. Maybe not married to anyone. They divorce just as quickly as they got back together.

Ricky realizes that Clementine was the first person he felt a real, genuine passion and romance for in a long time. He tries to get her back, but she’s hurt and can’t forgive him after being rejected by him for Amy TWICE.

Adrian had dumped Omar for constantly pressuring her about her future and decided to stay and finish her studies here. Her, Ricky, and Jack had been a trio of friends throughout college. She took Ricky’s advice and started therapy. Her life took a positive, free-spirited spin, actually having fun and enjoying herself with casual dating and pursuing her law career! Just as she’s about to move on to law school, Ricky falls for Adrian yet again - after seeing her genuinely change and being her friend the entire time, always with a soft spot for her. They get together, and Adrian finally realizes that she IS genuinely over Ricky, and finally they are both genuinely content in just being FRIENDS.

Adrian, after finally getting to know herself and coming out as bisexual, realizes that she is in love with Grace - who realizes she is a lesbian during her time in college. Maybe only after school and years somewhat apart do they realize their feelings for each other. They get together and stay together, marrying and becoming a power couple of Doctor (heart surgeon Grace) and Lawyer (Adrian! immigration law). They have a bunch of kids - some adopted, two with sperm donors. Wealthy life

After dropping out and divorcing, Amy turns a new leaf and tries to discover herself and what she wants. She uses the money from the house Anne sold to travel the world instead of paying for school - with John in the summer, solo otherwise, and gets an artsy career of sorts while she lives a more nomadic lifestyle. Living a good life. Bisexual. Either John is her only kid or she has another accident baby with Ben in college - but her and Ben do not end up together. Maybe the Boykewich money can fund her lifestyle, lol. I imagine Amy finally just wanting to do her own thing and heal her inner child in adulthood. Not wanting to work a normal job at all, after having no free time in her teens.

Ricky manages to win back Clementine with time, trust, and romance - and they end up marrying, Clementine becomes step-mother to John and they have two more kids together. Happy, stable middle-class family.

Ben goes on to get a bunch of therapy and gets into a succession-esque plot as Leo’s businesses grow bigger and bigger. Idk if he’d be more of a Kendall or Roman Roy. I am choosing to ignore his S5 horrid cartoonish characterization for this entire thing lol

I like to think Henry somehow safely bailed out of joining the army and was Ben’s roommate in NY. Alice too?

Madison does end up a cocktail waitress in Vegas, single and living a hectic life for awhile, but her and Lauren still end up together after a gay rom-com plot pulls them closer together

Jack idfk what he does, stay in college football til he graduates and then ends up a personal trainer on instagram, moves to the valley. never settles down

Ashley gets married to someone completely new in Italy and decides to live in Europe with dual-citizenship, her and amy make up years down the line, and now she’s just the cool ass european aunty of john who visits for major occasions only

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nev3rfound · 3 years

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option two : b.b

after nightmares continue to haunt his nights, bucky knows there’s one person left who could potentially provide some form of comfort, but is she still willing to see him after all this time? (1.5k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

5k giveaway celebration

warnings: angsty, sad bucky, minor spoilers for ep1 of tfatws requested: nope, just something i’ve been thinking about since ep1 of tfatws

It felt real, as if he were back there holding the gun with no remorse.

Cold sweat covers Bucky’s body as he pants heavily, feeling the cool tags against his exposed chest rising and falling with his deep breaths that refuse to calm down.

He knew it wasn’t real, it was all in his head. But he knew it happened, even if it was many years ago, he still held the gun in his hand and pulled the trigger.

“It’s not real.” Bucky mutters to himself, glancing up to see the TV silently blaring a football game that he has no interest in, but it proves as a worthy distraction for the time being. “It’s not real.”

Remaining seated on the wooden floorboards with a blanket draped over his lap, Bucky glances over to his phone knowing there are two possible options ahead of him.

A sigh ghosts his lips as he stares at the contact list consisting of five names, only one having been used in the last week, well, month.

“James, you’ve got less than ten contacts in this phone and I’m the only person you’ve called all week.” Doctor Raynor sighs once more as she reaches for her notebook, not caring about the look of disdain crossing Bucky’s expression.

“It’s not like I’ve got anyone else to call.” Bucky shrugs it off, hearing her pen pause on the paper.

“Well, you’ve been avoiding messages from Sam for a start,”

“He doesn’t count.” Bucky remarks, hearing another quieter sigh leave her lips.

“Okay, then when was the last time you spoke to her, huh?” She counters, noticing his tense form relax at the mention of you. “Come on, James. If you want to help yourself, you have to keep in touch with those who still care about you.”

“I don’t even know if she does anymore, Doc.” Bucky admits, trying to hold back the sadness in his tone as Raynor closes her notebook.

“You have to try, James.” She reminds him. “Otherwise you’ll never know.”

Swallowing his pride, Bucky presses on the contact and listens as the number rings out. He’s counted the rings endlessly, knowing the hesitation there would be at the other end of the call.

“Hello?” He holds back the desperation clinging to his throat upon hearing someone answer, a loud yawn echoing through the line.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Bucky lowers his head into his metal hand, even if it’s a different arm, it’s still part of the same tormented history. “I, could you come over?” A whisper leaves his lips as silence protrudes. “P,please?”

His ears perk up at the sound of sheets ruffling. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

Before Bucky can say his thanks, the line goes dead and the realisation sinks in; he’s going to see you again.

Bucky listens closely, hearing you outside of his apartment. He can hear you knock once softly, and a second time with more confidence.

He knows he should hold back a moment and pretend he hasn’t been hovering beside the front door since you hung up a mere twenty minutes ago, but he can’t help himself.

Unlocking the several locks covering the door, Bucky opens it a sliver, allowing you to slip in.

Keeping your head down, your focus remains on your feet as Bucky closes his front door before turning to you.

“I, I didn’t think you’d come.” Bucky admits quietly, afraid to hear what you have to say in response.

“Well,” You start, now lifting your head up to see him and your sentence falters in your mouth. You can’t deny that he looks worse than you envisioned, even during those late nights and early mornings when he woke up screaming in your arms, he’d never looked so grief-stricken like this.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes out, following your gaze to his tired eyes, scratches covering his arm from attempting to claw it off in his sleep as sweat still clings to his chest. “it’s not great.”

You scoff under your breath as you follow Bucky through to his small kitchen where he pours you both glasses of water. “That is clearly an understatement.” Accepting the glass, you take the moment to reflect whilst he’s occupied. “How long has this been happening?”

Pausing at the sink, Bucky stares down into his glass of water, remembering the countless nights they attempted to drown him or try shock therapy. And how every time it didn’t work, he remembered it all.

“A while.” He mutters, his grip tightening on the kitchen ledge as his metal hand clenches around the glass, shattering it into the sink.

“James,” You call out, slowly rising from your seat and moving toward him. “I’m right here, you’re here too, alright?”

Standing beside him, you reach out for his hand, easing his grip on the counter until he lets go.

“You’re right here.” You repeat to him as his eyes remain tightly closed, his jaw locked and left hand still clenching the broken glass. “You can let go, Bucky.” The words leave your lips in a whisper as the remainder of the glass drops into the sink, and Bucky turns his body to face yours.

“It wasn’t real,” Bucky tells you weakly. “please tell me it wasn’t real.”

Without thinking twice, you lift your hand to rest it against his cheek and Bucky instantly cradles it with his flesh hand, keeping it in place.

“It wasn’t real, James.” You confidently state as he moves your hand and presses a gentle kiss against it. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” You sigh as you both remain in the dimly lit kitchen, the only movement from Bucky as he turns the tap off.

“Nothings been the same since Steve,” He can’t help but trail off, knowing he doesn’t have to explain himself around you. “and I just couldn’t face it, not with all that history.”

Stepping backwards, you let your hand slip from his as you lean against the counter, crossing your arms. “But what about the rest of us, Bucky? You just stopped answering, after everything we’ve been through.” You try to keep your voice low, remain calm, but after all this time, it’s difficult to not let your feelings get in the way. “I’ve lost all of you. Sam, Wanda, Peter, Clint, Bruce, Thor and now you too.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” Bucky breathes out. “I never meant to hurt you, I, I’ve been making amends.”

Walking past you, Bucky rummages through his bedside table, revealing the well-worn notebook.

“Was that?” You don’t have to finish your question before Bucky nods, flipping through the pages to a series of names scribbled down.

“These are all the people I wronged or hurt or who were affected by the Winter Soldier.” Bucky explains, holding the book out to you.

He watches closely as your eyes scan over the names, flipping through the pages seeing those crossed out or circled or left untouched. Until you see the last name on the list, yours.

“Y/n, I’m truly sorry for leaving you, for causing you any pain.” Bucky begins to explain as you close the notebook, placing it back on the counter out of sight. “I know I can’t take back what I’ve done, for disappearing for months without warning, but I,” Unable to fight his emotions, Bucky cracks.

You reach out as he curls up to the ground, quiet sobs wracking through his body as you hold him close.

“It’s okay,” You shush him as you fall to a sitting position, Bucky curling his head into your lap once more. “we can talk about this in the morning, okay?”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Bucky tenses beneath you before sparing you a glance, allowing you to see those blue eyes, the ones you’ve missed falling asleep beside and waking up to, those same blue eyes that hold so much pain you can’t comprehend.

“No,” You whisper, running your fingers through his short hair, missing how the long ends used to feel against your face in the mornings. “I promise, I won’t go.” You lean back against the cabinets as Bucky begins to relax beneath you, his metal arm outstretched whilst his flesh arm remains around your waist, hugging you close.

“This is real, isn’t it?” Bucky sadly asks, looking out toward the dark hallway of his apartment, seeing nothing besides the faint glare of the tv. “I, I’m not dreaming this again am I?”

The thought breaks your heart as you rest your hand on his shoulder, running your fingers along the faint scar that remains etched into his skin.

“It’s real, Bucky.” You tell him, trying to disguise the cry that is lodged in your throat. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Despite your words of comfort, Bucky closes his eyes uneasily, wondering when he’ll wake up from this dream to the painful reality he truly lives in.

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keijifairy · 3 years

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big little things 〃

♡ kageyama, nishinoya, oikawa, iwaizumi, bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, suna do that show how in love they are with you.

genre. fluff fluff fluff

warning. kinda spoiler for timeskip! bokuto

author’s note. hi,, im so sorry for promising to write but not writing :// i hope this disgustingly fluffy thing will make up for it as a late thank you for 400+ followers!!! aaaaa what 💗💗💗!!!!!

+ writing this was super fun but also kinda upsetting bc sum of these are inspired by real life love stories wow </3

༘ kageyama frozen by your door with a painfully awkward smile and an assortment of wildflowers in his grasp is truly a sight to behold. before he picks you up for a date, he plucks flowers from the park near his house and shoves them into your hands with an incoherent compliment he exclaims (along the lines of “your face looks pretty”, you realize when he mumbles it the next minute and looking at anywhere but your face). you accept them with a giggle and return the sentiment with your lips brushing his cheek which blossoms into a deeper shade of red. hinata doesn’t believe that the rigid boy with a volleyball for a brain could be a sappy romantic like how you describe him to be.

༘ nishinoya is well aware of your sweet tooth, which is especially fond of chocolates. packs upon packs of the tiny chocolate kisses you secretly pop in your mouth during classes are stashed in his fridge, backpack, and even in the pockets of his uniform as a result. “it’s for emergencies,” he assures you with a proud grin whenever you find yet another family bag of hershey’s somewhere near him. you didn’t guess that not getting a particularly good mark on a test or homework piling up as the days pass were the so-called emergencies he proclaims: when your shoulders sag and your feet shuffle on the ground without a thought, the taste of chocolate lingering in your lips come as a surprise. his favorite laughter finally reaches his ears and nishinoya can’t help but gift you with another of his own chocolate kiss.

༘ oikawa is stubborn, incredibly so, but he’s only doing his best — even tries to push himself past his limit. it’s no surprise to enter the gymnasium to the thud of the ball as it hits the ground and you observe how strands of his hair stick to his forehead while his heavy breaths fill the room. you offer to help, to wait for him until he’s had enough—for too many to count—but he only flashes you a grin and lightly urges you out to the door every single time. oikawa couldn’t bring himself to focus if he watches you jolting awake every now and then instead of resting after bearing the weight of school — though he worries either way. with his phone leaning against his bag, he initiates a video call that gives you the perfect view of the boy jumping in the court through your screen as you make your way home.

༘ iwaizumi has never gotten used to the ridiculous amount of nail polish you have collected ever since the both of you settled into your own home. he looks back and forth between your face and the small bottle of polish in your hand with his lips pressed together. “do you really need six bottles of blue?” you scoff and correct him for the nth time about the exact name of each color and end it off with a “none of your business, haji.”, causing him to narrow his eyes at you in concern with an exasperated sigh. quite ironic of him, acting so bothered and all, when you catch him watching a “how to build a nail polish shelf” video the next day.

༘ bokuto still calls one of his teammates every wednesday morning to inform them that he would have to miss practice, and atsumu still snickers on the other end of the line with an, “again? are ya sure yer not just slacking off?” wednesdays are scheduled for your doctor’s appointments, after all, so bokuto always makes sure to make it up to the other guys by doing extra drills or staying another hour the next day because he doesn’t intend on missing a single meeting. hospitals and clinics aren’t places you enjoy and you don’t feel comfortable talking with the doctor on your own, but you don’t worry too much — especially with bokuto seated beside you, listening intently to their words with his thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand. his presence alone is enough to ease your anxieties. (his teammates don’t have it in them to be mad, only thinking about how whipped bokuto is for you).

༘ akaashi knows the moment you open the door with your eyes trained on your shoes that the day hasn’t been the kindest to you. he approaches you in quiet steps, taking your bag from your hands and placing it on the couch. you think the way his hand holds yours so delicately is enough to make you cry as he guides you to the bubble bath he had prepared at the right time, as if his sixth sense had told him of what you were feeling. the scent of lavender oil lingers in the air, and the flickering candles cast a soft glow throughout the room; it’s a comforting silence, save the occasional sniffles that tone down as akaashi gently scrapes through your scalp with shampoo. when the suds of soap are rinsed off of your body and he caresses your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in the comfort of your bed, sleep crawls into your eyes as a “thank you, keiji.” falls from your lips. he only kisses your forehead in response.

༘ atsumu takes tentative sips on the cold can of cherry cola you offer to him every day. it’s the only drink you purchase at the vending machine during lunch period and what you grab when you two stop at the convenience store for movie night snacks. he doesn’t bother to buy himself one, as you immediately nudge the can on his cheek as soon as you open it. its taste is something he could never get used to, but he swallows it nonetheless, only to convince you afterward that he couldn’t finish it on his own — and of course, he teases you, just like in every opportunity he grabs when you’re simply minding your own business and completely unaware of the trick up his sleeve — and always, you’re left stumbling over your words as you stare at him in shock? embarrassment? offense? perhaps a bit of all of them? but he does know that “that was an indirect kiss just now.” of his and your adorable reaction make cherry cola worth it.

༘ osamu comes home in your arms with drooping eyes and a worn smile. his words are almost incoherent when he mumbles them on your shirt, eventually turning into snores when you tell him to at least wash his face. owning quite a famous shop with the best onigiris in town (your words and his) can be hectic; with the day spent molding countless onigiris and tending to every customer, that ends with his arm limp on top of your waist. with your own work to deal with that occupies almost the rest of your days, there would be no room to breathe with just the both of you — but with osamu, it’s not like that at all. the soft sizzling from the kitchen wakes you up to an empty space beside you and your stomach’s quick to grumble in anticipation. the shop opens early, but osamu doesn’t leave until the both of you start the day eating at the dinner table and talking about the events of yesterday. it’s no doubt he’s still exhausted, so the small gesture of waking up early in the morning to cook your favorite breakfast and the gentle hum that greets you when you wrap your arms around him is enough to make you full.

༘ suna must be obsessed with you! might be the first thing someone would think when they get their hands on the boy’s phone. his gallery is a gold mine: full of images and videos he takes of you in unknowing times that he has definitely used for blackmail at least twice a week. nibbling on your pen with your eyebrows scrunched when you attempt to start homework, cheek squishing on your pillow as a line of drool slides down the side of your mouth, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back because you’re wheezing too much over something he said, and plenty more embarrassing moments you don’t like looking back on are what fill his storage space. he refuses to delete even a single one, despite how blurry they come out or how you complain about how ridiculous you think you look. suna is obsessed with you — you would know if only you notice how he stops after he snaps a photo, with a small adoring smile that disappears as soon as it comes before he teases you to no end.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “A Chance.”

A continuation on the Dr. Krill lecture series about humans.

The room was large and echoing, voices raised up towards the ceiling, and despite their being enough room to fit more than three classrooms of the original size, there still wasn’t enough room to fit everyone, with some students standing or sitting off to the side. Cameras had been brought in to observe the lecture, and were being mounted as they watched, so other students from other universities could Audit the lectures.

A group of four students, two Vrul and two Tesraki sat together on the far right of the lecture hall. They had been forced to pair together for another one of their class projects and just ended up naturally gravitating towards what was familiar, sitting next to each other as they waited for the lecture to begin.

“Did you guys finish the assignment?”

“I did.” Of course the two Vrul had, that was to be expected.

The Tesraki looked down at their papers, work halfway finished because they had a tough time from telling what was myth from what was fact.

“Humans, dn not, in fact, cannibalize their young.”

“Where the hell did you hear that.”

“I had an older classmate tell me once, and I saw it in another news article.”

There was muttering, “Even we knew that.”

The other vrul shuffled their papers studiously, “Humans do not have hypnotic gazes that can paralyze their prey.” “Really, I felt for sure that that one was going to be real.”

The Tesraki’s ears drooped, “Well apparently, human stomach acid IS powerful enough to eat through metal.”

There was silence.

“No really, that can’t be true.”

The Tesraki nodded, “It isn’t a myth.” He sighed in frustration, “Everything I looked up about humans was true. Human bones are stronger than steel, the human liver can regenerate, humans can transplant organs from one human to another and it will work. Humans have a system of language that doesn't require the use of noise, it's called sign language by the way.”

One of the Vrul vibrated their antenna, “I am sorry to hear your search did not go well, perhaps if you had read more disreputable news articles it would have been better. Some of the major newspapers have the ability to contact better sources, which means their articles are most likely to be right.”

“Did you know the human jaw is powerful enough to bite off their own fingers, but humans don’t do it because number one, that hurts a lot, and number two, their brain doesn’t allow them to even consider it.”

There was a silence.

“Is that a fact or a myth.”

The other Tesraki sighed, “that is a fact.”

Just then the lights overhead blinked once and then twice. The students turned to look down at the room where Dr. Krill was making his way across the floor. Making his way in that unnatural and predatory way he had. His body moved with a fluid grace in comparison to the normal jerky movements of his species. His legs rolled one after the other in a wheel that kept him moving forward, never breaking. The shoulders on his body swayed slightly back and forth lending the power of his arms into the movement of his legs.

The way he moved his head around the room, seeming to focus on each one of them in turn rather than taking in the whole scene at once was…. Unnerving to say the least his helium sack sat mostly unused against his shoulders and upper back as he moved into the room. Not once since he had started here had anyone seen him use it.

He said it was too slow and made keeping up with humans difficult unless you were being dragged behind them.

It was…. Strange to watch…. How he never seemed to stop moving. Even when he spoke his four hands and his head moved to emphasize his points. When speaking to students coming up to see him, his body shifted in reaction to their words. His hands wide, then closed then open again, up and then down. His chin rose and fell in greeting to people and students he knew and to those he didn’t know so well.

It was a fascinating scene to watch, and one they were not entirely sure if they liked.

Dr Krill made a strange noise deep inside his throat, that over the speakers had the entire class turning to look at him. It was a strange sort of barking cough mixed with a hum. THey couldn’t have known that krill was imitating the way humans clear their throat when they want to speak.

“Students, I hope you all had a good week, and I hope you were all able to complete my first, and easiest assignment?”

There was a soft muttering around the room.

The doctor clapped both of his hands together, producing a sharp noise that brought attention back to himself, “Well, as I have said, today, as a special treat for staying….” He turned to look around the room before muttering, “And multiplying, apparently.” He frowned when none of the students seemed amused at his joke but continued, “I am going to be talking about the human fight flight or freeze response and the entire reaction of the sympathetic nervous system.”

Students withdrew their holopads to begin taking notes.

The cameras zoomed in on doctor Krill.

“We discussed last week how humans are technically considered predator animals, and they are as they eat and consume other animals daily. However, humans are not an apex predator as it isn’t often that they consume other predators. In fact, for the longest time humans were some of the weakest, and easiest to kill preditors for larger and more intimidating animals. In this way that lead to the development of the sympathetic nervous system.”

He turned around the room, and the two Vrul cringed back as his eyes seemed to fall on thim. His antenna were unusually still,

“The sympathetic and parasympathetic systems account for two sides of the same coin. The parasympathetic nervous system is responsible for the workings of the body when the human is relaxed. It focuses primarily on digestion, relaxation slower breathing and even blood flow through the major organs including the eyes. It has other properties too of course, but when a human is relaxed their parasympathetic nervous system is the one generally in charge during those times.”

He turned to the projector, “Now assume you are an ancient human out on your natural habitat of the savanna -- without their adaptation the human’s natural habitat is warm and relatively dry with lots of open grassland and the occasional tree.” he flipped a picture on the projector and the class pulled back a bit in surprise at the picture that unfolded before them. It was a strange creature standing upright tall but remarkably hairy accept for on its face and hands, “This is a 3D rendered recreation of what early humans might have looked like based on skeletal remains found in their fossil record. The development of the human sympathetic nervous system likely started long before humans looked like this, but still the visual aid is one that I find compelling.” The class stared at the creatures thick face, heavy brow and sloping shoulders.

Humans today were much more graceful, though much less powerful than what this beast looked like. It was strange trying to determine which one was the superior. They supposed the current human, as its head size looked much bigger in comparison.

Krill pulled up a side by side comparison with his earlier diagram.

They recognized the modern human as he had been rendered in textbooks thousands of times since he had first been studied.

Very pale with his fine blond fur compared to the hulking shape next to him, with course brown fur that covered his entire body.

“Not the evolutionary changes that had to be made to get from this human.” He pointed at the hairy one, “To that one.” He motioned to the pale one, “The hips grew smaller, the spine took on a sharp S curve, the ratio of legs to arms changed dramatically, leaving the human with longer legs and comparatively short arms. The jaw and the face shortened, while the cranium expanded and hair receded across the body. The current human skeletal structure is finer and more delicate than its original counterpart, with a focus on precision in movement over power, which has become so important to their survival today.”

Dr Krill pointed to the picture of the old human, “This human tried its best to stay alive.” He pointed at the other human, “This human seems to be lacking in a lot of those same survival skills as he is constantly trying to get himself killed.” Krill sighed, “Modern humans are a little bit more complicated than their ancestors, but I digress.” Now imagine either on of these humans being faced with what might have been their natural predator on the savanna.

He flipped the image and the crowd gasped as a massive alien shape leaped up into a third projected spot. It was long and sinewy walking on four legs and a had a fur color like the tanned grassland. It’s eyes were face front, and on its massive paws there were huge hooked claws. Dr. Krill pressed a button to start the looping animation that allowed the creature to lope along with a sinuous grace that made the human lok clumsy and awkward in comparison, all three of the animations moving.

The creature opened its mouth and the entire class pulled back as huge razor sharp teeth glinted in the light, as it yawned, shook its head, and then continued walking.

“This is an African Lion, a female of the species weighing in at only 280 lbs. Now while some humans can weigh that much, a human of comparable fitness like our modern human weigh in at around only 210 lbs as an adult male. Now this female lion has a higher muscle to body mass index than the human, can run faster, jump higher, and bite harder. She has long and protruding K-9 teeth and retractable claws. The human has no chance….. or …. Does he.”

The class shifted slightly in their seats muttering

Krill waited for a long drawn out moment before, “No, statistically he is going to get his face eaten off, however, he does still have a slight chance.”

“The human will see the predator, and immediately upon seeing the body is going to flood the system with a hormone called adrenaline. Adrenaline is a natural high for humans that can result in increased strength, speed, and heightened visual perception. The Parasympathetic system is switched off for the sympathetic nervous system. The heart begins to beat faster as blood is routed into all the major muscle groups, those being primarily the legs. All activity in the internal organs shuts down as that blood flow is routed outwards. Blood can even be funneled away from the brain, despite that seeming a bit counter productive, causing tunnel vision in the eyes. Despite this, the brain begins to work faster allowing the human to see at more frames per second which seems, to a human, to slow down time.”

He turned to look at them, “Now a human has three opinions in a dangerous situation like this, either fight, flight, or freeze. All of these responses would have been adaptive in an environment like this with fight being, hopefully, the last response. Many predator animals are geared for a chase, so freezing will give a human a better chance of survival because if they run they will most certainly be attacked. ON the other hand sometimes this will not work, and being able to run as fast as possible is their only option. Backed against a wall and unable to run fast enough, a human has to fight. Some humans do not react in this order.”

He turned to look at the image, “The human body on adrenaline is capable of some wild and unbelievable things. The average human only uses around 40-60% of their body's natural strength. Systems in the brain will not allow more because if a human were able to use all the power of their body, they could rend muscle from bone. Well trained human athletes can use up to 70-90% of their natural strength, but during a time like this, the average human can be turned into a well trained athlete or more. In dire situations humans have been known to lift up to seven times their own body weight. During this time humans have been known to lift vehicles, wrestle wild animals, and throw large boulders. However, this does not come without a price, and the human will likely receive damage to their muscular structure.”

He turned to point at the pictures again.

“I heard a story about how a human choked to death a small mountain lion, and another man who fought off a shark. Humans are statistically unlikely to win a fight like this, but it isn’t impossible.”

He stalked around the room, “Humans do not just experience adrenaline when dealing with animals, but during accidents, public speaking events, and even in conflict with other humans. Expecting to be hurt, the human body has the ability to completely shut off its pain perception.”

There was a stunned silence all around him, and then an uproar.

Dr. krill seemed almost smug as he watched them react like that, and raised a hand for silence.

They quieted down, “Yes, you heard me, the human brain has the ability to completely ignore pain, until the danger is dealt with. The first surgery I ever did, on this human right here is a good demonstration…. If you do not want to see graphic images turn your head away now.”

Even if they had wanted too it was impossible to tear their eyes away as the image popped up on screen.

The class gasped.

There was a collective sound of disgust.

“That screwdriver had gone in through the front of his eye, broke through the back of the ocular socket and slid into one of the cortical folds of the brain. He WALKED into my surgery and conversed with me like a logical and reasoning person. He did not report any physical discomfort or pain, he did not scream or show any other signs of distress. His brain had completely shut off all response to the pain.”

He turned to walk around the circle.

“You see most of the time pain is a good thing, it allows you to know when something is wrong, but there are other times, dire situations like this where the ability to feel pain will only hinder the subject. If this human had been able to feel pain it is likely his thrashing and screaming would have caused more cortical damage than it already would have. I heard a story of a woman who fell off a cliff and broke both of her legs horribly, while she was still in pain, she managed to crawl her way off a mountain, and as soon as other humans found her she passed out as the pain got worse. Another human, who had been rock climbing, ended up with his arm trapped under a boulder and with no escape. He was there for days, but, in the end, he managed to cut off his own arm in order to escape.”

More horrified gasping from the crowd as they pulled away in shock and terror.

“These are just some of the most impressive stories. Not all humans will react like this. The vast majority of humans will freeze when they should fight, or run when they should freeze. Some will simply give up and curl into a ball, but there are other humans, like this, who under adrenaline can run like olympic sprinters, lift seven times their own size and fight better than the animals attacking them. The capabilities and the possibilities of a human under the influence of adrenaline are remarkable.”

His antenna vibrated just a little in amusement, “As you can imagine, humans do not experience this much these days, but psychological studies have reported that it is actually healthy for humans to experience the fight or flight response as it helps the brain retain that ability. For something to continue working you need to use it. Scientists say that exposing a human to a sympathetic response in a controlled environment is good for their mental health.” He sighed, “Of course this leads humans to watching horror themed movies, skydiving, and recreational fighting. Otherwise humans put themselves into controlled danger in order to feel what their ancestors felt a long time ago when they were being chased by large raging land predators, but when your species developed in an environment that hostile, it is to be expected.”

The group of four stared at krill, and by extension the animation of the real living human behind him. They tried to imagine the slim two legged figure winning a fight against the massive clawed beast, but were having trouble. Its teeth, which had once seemed so sharp, now were dull and almost useless. The nails on its hands, once considered claws were tiny, flimsy and pathetic, but….. It seemed strange, there was still something in the way it moved that suggested possibilities.

Humans were survivors where many other species were not.

Humans may not have had a very high chance.

But at least they had a chance.

#humans are space orcs #humans are insane #HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

🙃 - Someone to share their suffering with for your villain! :)

I wasn’t sure what villain you wanted for this, so I went with the villain from call me, as I’ve been on a kick for them lately! I’m also not certain this is on prompt but I hope you like it ^^

I really really need to get around to making a masterlist for them. This is a continuation from here. Part three is here, part two is here, and part one is here.

For this ask game.

@sola-whumping

CW//Past trauma, mentions of: medical exams and bathing, isolation, slight unreality, mindmelding

The day had been... an ordeal.

The same could be said for both Villain and those who had become their caretakers.

Finishing the medical exam had been exhausting, to say the least. While there had been no fight in finishing the eye exam, any attempt to look at their mouth and ears was quickly met with whimpering and holding closer to Hero.

The stethoscope had been just as difficult-- when the metal bell touched Villain’s chest, their shriek had been ear piercing. They wouldn’t allow it, even when it was Hero holding the stethoscope. Thus, that was out of the question.

In the end, a very frustrated Doctor had settled for a quick physical examination. From what they were able to see, Villain was, physically, unharmed, aside from a pair of matching chafe wounds on their wrists, where shackles had hung for far too long. Those wounds had been wrapped in gauze, and when Villain would not stop scratching at the material, covered with a pair of rubber cuff bracelets.

Bathing them had been just as difficult, though doing so was undeniably necessary. Doctor had used all sorts of medical terms, but Hero only knew that the former villain was absolutely filthy.

As before, anyone except Hero laying their hands on them was out of the question. So, with Doctor’s instruction, they slowly turned their filthy former nemesis into something resembling more of a person. They weren’t sure if they wanted to know just how much dirt had been washed down the tub drain. Certainly a lot.

Now, with Doctor satisfied with the state of their patient, and their patient thoroughly exhausted, Hero pushed their way into the apartment’s spare bedroom. Villain hung onto them, arms around their neck, as though falling would mean certain death. Their clean clothes were still warm from the dryer-- a pair of pajamas, with a sort of vest over top, which Doctor explained was intended to aid with anxiety. “Almost like a Thundershirt.” They’d said.

Hero could hardly care. They just wanted Villain to get some sleep. Then, maybe, they could get some themself.

Moving one arm off of Villain’s back, they pulled back the bedsheets, before leaning forth, trying to get the person clinging to them off of their chest.

Villain held on tighter. Hero sighed.

“You need your rest, bud. Come on, let go.” They tried not to let frustration seep into their tone.

When Villain didn’t budge, Hero exhaled once more, before gripping them below their arms and prying them off their chest like a piece of Velcro. Even so, Villain reached out for them as they were laid on the bed and tucked in.

“Okay. You’ve gotta go to bed now, alright?”

They whimpered, sitting up and pushing the covers off of themself. For a few moments, they seemed to be straining to open their lips, though no sound came out. Finally, they let out a loud whine.

“Alright, alright.” Hero conceded. They kneeled down next to the bed, at Villain’s eye level. “What is it?”

Villain reached their shaking arms out, hands gripping Hero’s shoulders. They raised their gaze to met that of their caretaker.

There was a terrible intensity to their eyes. That was the last thought Hero had, before they were falling.

At the very least, they felt to be falling, wind rushing by them even as they could not see it. When they at last struck the ground, there was no impact force to it, though all the air in their lungs felt to have been forced out.

Where were...

Hero pried their eyes open, shaking their head. Or, trying to. No. They couldn’t move. Only look.

They looked down. Those were not their hands.

That was when they realized, they were screaming.

“Hero! Help me! Hero, please! Help me!”

That was not their voice. Not their...

Villain’s cell. This was Villain’s cell and Villain’s hands and their voice and... their memories.

Hero’s heart fluttered, but it was not their heart.

On the other side of the room, a steel door closed. Shackles dragged behind them as they turned, looking out the one-way window, staring out over the city below.

Hero watched as the city moved.

The sun raised and lowered and was replaced by the moon, once, then twice, then again. It was getting faster. A steady movement of celestial bodies turned to a kaleidoscope of purple and orange as the dawn turned to day turned to dusk turned to twilight turned to night turned to dawn.

Cars hummed by in their thousands, ants buzzing in their patterns. Cranes moved, lifting pillars and bricks until the skyline was lit with a thousand new windows.

It was alone, in their cell, that Villain watched the fireworks on the Fourth of July. As leaves fell and snow began to pile, they could imagine that, somewhere below, carols were being sung. Carols that they could not hear.

Somewhere, the world was moving on. Moving on without Villain. Uncaring, unnoticing... unwilling to help.

The sky-- the black steel sky-- opened, an object falling to the cell’s floor. A brick of grey, and another, and another, another, until they were piled and the sky was purple again and orange and another day had passed.

Another day had passed and another day had passed and another day and another-

Hero felt a mind that was not their own counting seconds, reaching to the thousands, the tens of thousands... Watched as a stranger’s hands plucked at their own clothes, thread by thread, unraveling themself, piece by piece.

Their head was so foggy. So empty. It did not take long for them to stop screaming. Not long for them to simply... stop.

Once more, Hero was falling, but this time, they returned to solid ground. To a bedroom and a villain’s stare.

“You...” Hero realized only once they tried to speak that they had been crying. “Oh, god.”

They did the only thing they could think to. They hugged Villain.

The two stayed like that, for a long time. It was only when Hero felt about to fall asleep that they broke away from the embrace.

“You’re safe, now. You’re okay. You’ll feel better tomorrow. I promise. And I’ll be back tomorrow.”

They stood, turning to move towards the door, but turned back around upon hearing Villain’s whimper. They had the covers clutched in their hands, eyes looking close to weeping.

“You don’t want me to go?”

Villain shook their head.

“Okay. Um... Do you want me to come sleep in the bed with you?”

Frantic nodding.

“Alright, then. Let’s get some rest, the two of us.”

#ask game #whumpee #villain whumpee #whumblr #whump community

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sunsoothed · 3 years

Text

hair(care)

remember this post? yes i wrote the fic. with some angst and backstory as a treat! family bonding time and people learning to love. the ao3 summary is "Yohan first learns affection through money, then oil." which i think is really really funny.

word count: 1696

read on ao3

apologies for any errors, and enjoy!

The first time Yohan tries, it is before everything. He’s allowed to err here and there, require an entire braid to be unwound and redone. He’s allowed to experiment with the clips and the ribbons and decide when the act is complete and present his art to his niece and his family. Elijah is rightfully fawned over, cheeks bright and smiles brighter, holding onto her uncle and hiding her face in his shoulder with glee.

That was, of course, before everything.

If Yohan has touched a hair on Elijah’s head since, it is only to make a promise or only in her sleep.

The doctors will take care of you, don’t worry. Samcheon is here. I won’t let them hurt you any more than you already have been.

Midnight, in that agonising few months of hospital rooms and the claustrophobic rehabilitation centre. When Elijah is able to perceive nothing but her breath, Yohan, hands reverent; soothing his own fears through comforting his niece. Things will be okay. We’ll be fine. A few grounding breaths are never enough, not after he learns what those monsters took from his niece.

And when Elijah cries. When she first asks after her mother and father, why they aren’t by her side, why is it just samcheon everyday? When Yohan’s tears ring before hers, for the first and last time. I’m sorry, so is declared. I’ll fix this, so is promised. He holds her as close as he can permit himself to, and vows to burn down this world if she asks him to.

Elijah, once, four years since, on her tenth birthday, asks him, “Can you help me?”

Yohan will pretend like he hasn’t been starved of hearing those words. He follows her to her room, honoured of her trip halfway across the house.

“The girls at school,” Elijah fumbles about, wringing her hands together, “that… they wear their…”

He stands in her doorway, somewhat uninvited, waits for her to finish.

“They wear their hair, kind of… like this,” Elijah mimics some variation of a hairstyle best she can, two locks of her hair held in her hands, the parting off. “I was just…”

Yohan, unfortunately, understands little. “Do you need a haircut?”

Elijah’s hands fall, as does the thin hope upon her features. “It’s nothing,” she dismisses. “I only called you because ahjumma wasn’t in today. It’s fine.”

Yohan blinks. “I can help if —”

“It’s fine,” Elijah hisses. “I was mistaken.”

If there is any chance of that ever happening again, time will have to be reversed. Elijah turns twelve, and things change, and Yohan notes his laptop has been hacked.

He buys her a cake for her thirteenth birthday that finds itself smashed against a wall and a demand for no such recurrence.

Yohan will never disobey her. Not with things that she can control.

So he buys no cakes, but buys her a building and channels the affection he allows himself to feel once a month in an allowance that shocks Ms Ji despite the lifetime she’s spent in this family.

Once, there is a package of hair care products with their usual shipment of essentials, which Ms Ji makes a show of putting in Yohan’s way. When he relents, it only takes a tilt of head to the east of the house for her to get the hint. He never knows if Elijah uses them, but the list goes on to include some products out of the large batch he’d purchased, and Yohan considers buying another building.

On her sixteenth birthday, Yohan asks, “Do you want to have a birthday party?”

Elijah asks, “Who will we call?”

Yohan nods, for that is an apt answer.

When Kim Gaon comes, Elijah hates him more than usual. That, Yohan had expected. What he hadn’t was that this hatred would melt away faster than ice when met with fire.

The frist time Elijah sports a more delicate hairstyle than the usual ponytail, Yohan thinks it’s a trick of the light. But she turns her head when retrieving cereal, and her hair is still parted that way and a short braid runs from behind her ear into the clipped-back hair at the back of her head, and Yohan pauses to stare.

Instead of their noncommittal acknowledgement of each other each morning, he asks, “When did you…” and gestures to the back of his head.

Elijah shrugs, looking over at him impassively for a moment before pursuing her breakfast once again. Kim Gaon slides into view, grin perpetually etched into his face, asks, “Elijah, did it stay?”

To which Elijah smiles back, and now Yohan’s eyebrows remain shot up.

Kim Gaon continues to talk, “It’s experimental. We’ll try a different style tomorrow. Your hair’s long enough to make an intricate bun.”

Yohan ensures Elijah watches him conspicuously eye the both of them.

“Kim pansa,” he says, breaking the moment. “We need to go to work.”

The next day, and the day after that, Elijah wears her hair in different styles. Once it is a high bun with some small braids, once it is a different parting and a new set of clips. Yohan observes critically over breakfast as Elijah holds her head a certain way to ensure it doesn’t fall into her food, and thinks, how impractical.

She catches him looking, so she hoists a sour look, to which Yohan responds with an exaggerated tilt of his head, aiming to mimic her.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Kim Gaon’s imposing voice interrupts. “Elijah looks fantastic today.”

Elijah beams. Yohan is disarmed of a biting reply for he hasn’t seem her teeth take on anything but a stubborn baring of power in front of him. He spends the rest of the day replaying it.

When things so south and north again, when Elijah acknowledges, begrudgingly, that her uncle did not have it out for her father, Kim Gaon mediates harmoniously.

He spends an evening making them both chase the cat around the house.

It’s an inane idea, even Elijah hates it, but he tells them the reason Kkomi starts throwing things off their desks at four in the morning is because she’s understimulated, and that even a cat needs to exercise.

So it’s Elijah’s job to get her rilled up enough to run — in a cat’s terribly comic way — away from them, and Yohan’s to ensure she keeps running around.

He’s insane, is what Kim Gaon is. Elijah’s more than sure this borders on some ethical offense. Yohan sure seems to find some pleasure in making the cat scared for her life.

Gaon congratulates them both with a mid-evening coffee and snack break. Elijah actually, voluntarily, asks for Yohan to pass the plate of biscuits across, and thanks him — thanks him! — when he does.

Before they all retire to bed, after another shared meal, Elijah calls for him from down the hall.

“Yohan!”

He turns, maintaining what he thinks is a smile.

“Can you try and get some coconut oil?”

“What for?”

Elijah scrutinises him, gauging how he doesn’t understand something so obvious. “For my hair.”

Yohan nods, still not on the same page, but very much wanting to be. “I’ll get it,” he assures.

He doesn’t blink twice at the astronomical shipping price.

It’s a tall bottle, imported and primly packaged, that greets Elijah when she returns home from her weekly ice-cream run with Gaon.

She eyes it, suspicious, before their resident busybody stands in her doorway and says, “Oh, bujang-nim actually bought it for you.”

Elijah blinks at Gaon innocently. Yohan does listen to her sometimes.

“Material wealth,” Gaon seems to understand. “We’ll put it in your hair tomorrow, okay? Keep it in for a few hours.”

“A few hours?” Yohan voices, having just turned the corner, dressed as he usually is at home.

“What are you doing here,” Elijah mutters, shooting a scowl at Yohan as he stands in her doorway as well.

He scowls back, never one to back down from a challenge, as Gaon goes on about the benefits of oiling hair behind them.

“Don’t pull,” Elijah hisses.

“I’m not,” Yohan insists, but puts less force into his actions nonetheless.

Gaon and Ms Ji are monitoring them, mirroring each other with their arms crossed and leaning against opposite sides of the doorway.

Yohan sections Elijah’s hair into three parts after brushing through it, the fine-toothed comb surprisingly sparse of broken hair.

“Gaon has been helping me take care of it,” Elijah had explained, when he errantly asked. “What, did you think I’m some sort of wild animal?”

Yohan carefully collects some oil in his palms, completely foreign to this, eyes flickering up to Gaon for guidance. Gaon is absolutely no help.

So he trusts his instincts and starts at Elijah’s scalp, rubbing oil in, and ends with oil down his forearms and Elijah’s hair in a thick braid. She’s fast asleep.

“That means you did a good job,” Gaon whispers to him.

Yohan would smile, but such affection hardly suits his face. He pats Gaon’s face with an oily hand, leaves him spluttering, and grins to himself as he tries to wash the oil off.

It barely becomes a routine, because despite Gaon’s somewhat vast knowledge on hair care and what Elijah read online, washing oil out of your hair can be a nightmare. But Ms Ji and Gaon have observed their two sulking overlords interacting with an increasing frequency, even if it is sometimes just to disagree about an arrangement of clips or parting of hair.

Gaon had supposed, somewhat, that his bujang-nim had at least an understanding of style. In his discussions with his niece, though, when somehow colour schemes and draping becomes relevant, Gaon admits he’d underestimated Kang Yohan.

Later Elijah will decide she wants to dress for dinner as well, and Yohan will be the only one diligently obeying the formality. So much so that he will leave a guest in the company of the villainous home to attend to his niece’s requests. No one will ask about the pink bow in her hair, but it’s more than enough for Yohan to know that he tied it up.

#the devil judge #the devil judge fic #tvn the devil judge #kang yohan #kang elijah #kim gaon #is there a tag for the fam #lawful family #(?)#idk #whovie writes

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scorsoneamelia · 3 years

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HIIII!! i wrote something fun and cute about amelia bringing scout to work with her :)))

It was only two days, three nights without Link but according to Scout he has been gone foooorever. Scout says it’s been years since he’s seen his father, even though it has been two days and he even saw Link over Facetime the day before. He had to fly out of Seattle for a surgery because the patient wasn’t stable enough to travel to the orthopaedic surgeon, so Link had to go to them. Scout was upset, saying he hadn’t seen daddy in a very long time and that he missed him, so Amelia let Scout share the bed with her that night.

She was woken up from the morning sunrise rays creeping through a space in the closed curtains, the little bit of sunlight managing to light up the bedroom. There was a soft breathing beside her and it was Scout, in the middle of the bed and curled into her side as if he didn’t have any room on the other side of the bed. The corner of the blanket was only covering his legs, the rest of his body uncovered and he was laying on his back. One of his arms was laid across his belly, and the other was laying flat above his head and his shirt was slightly bunched up, revealing his belly button.

He looked so calm and peaceful, and his sandy brown hair was messy, pieces of it falling in front of his closed eyes. The day before, Scout refused to go to school because he didn’t want to, and his excuse would be because daddy wasn’t here, and that was all he would say when Amelia would ask why. It took her to promise him that he could join her at work for the day if it meant he would go to school, so today, as she promised, it was bring your kid to work day.

“Angel,” Amelia whispered softly, sitting up from the bed and sitting up, her back against the head board. “Scout.” She said a bit louder this time, a free hand brushing through his hair.

His long eyes lashes revealed his deep blue eyes, matching Amelia’s, (she likes to think he has her eye color, even though Link would disagree saying they both had blue eyes) and he was letting out a huff, before stretching his body out. “Good morning, angel.” She saw Link in him so much, and no matter how many people said they saw her in him as well, all she could see was a mini Link and it made her heart flutter everytime.

“As I promised, you’ll be coming to work with me today,” she said, the corners of her lips curling into a soft smile. “But we have to get ready.”

There was excitement all of his face and it was like he forgot why he was so sad the previous night, because he was already jumping—-literally jumping out of bed. He squealed out a yay and was already running to his bedroom to try and find himself some clothes, even though Amelia knew she’d soon have to go and help him because the clothes he’d be pick would be awful.

After the two of them finished getting ready for their day, they both stood facing the mirror and Scout was standing on a stool because otherwise he would have barely reached the sink. (His height is definitely from her.) Scout pulled out his own toothbrush and mirrored his mom, the two of them brushing their teeth and Scout was messy, but at least he was doing it. There was toothpaste all over his face and it was running down his hands and he wasn’t exactly clean when he was spitting it into the sink. He made sure to match his mom, brushing his teeth for the same amount of time as she did before they had to leave.

She gave him the run down on the way to work, saying he had to be on his best behaviour because she was working and that sometimes her job can be busy. She’s never had an issue with Scout misbehaving but sometimes, his energy, especially when he’s excited, can be high and around patients she needed him to know that he had to be good.

She didn’t have any surgeries scheduled today, she made sure that her day was light, a couple consults and follow-up on post-ops. Scout was going to be her lefthand, assisting her whenever she needed, or at least she was going to let him think he was helping her.

He wore a white coat, Link’s to be specific, and he was drowning in it. It came down past his knees and the sleeves were longer than his own arms but Scout insisted he continued to wear it because it was his dad’s.

He came with her on rounds, and she allowed him to carry around the tablet, it being too big for him to carry with one hand. They were stopped in between patients because nurses and other doctors would stop them, introducing themselves and because some would just squeal and talk about how cute he was.

There was a consult in the pit that she got paged to, and she brought him along. He was no longer carrying the tablet, instead he put both hands in the front coat (very large) pockets because his mom had her hands in her coat pockets and he wanted to be like her.

“What do we got?” Amelia asked, pulling the curtain open to reveal a patient on the table, a few scratches and bruises covering his body and Meredith was there, giving a consult as well.

“MVC,” Meredith started, pulling her blue gloves off of her hands. “Has a head lac.” Turning around, she bent down to get eye level with Scout before he was giggling and throwing his arms around her neck.

“Auntie Mer!” He was yelling now, excitement flooding his face. Amelia was examining the patient, using her flashlight to check his pupils.

“It just looks like a mild concussion, but order a head CT to rule out any bleeding, just in case.” She told the nurse, her hand was put back into her pocket along with her small flashlight.

“Dr. Shepherd-Lincoln,” Meredith nodded, a smile pulling at her face because the look of her nephew in an oversized white coat was too cute. Meredith could see Link in him, as well, but he had some of Amelia’s qualities.

“He looks so much like Link,” Meredith commented before she stood up, facing Amelia. “He’s got your smile though.”

Scout went to stand next to his mom, matching her posture, (trying to) with arms crossed over his chest, just like she was. Amelia looked down at him while Scout was looking between the two, happiness radiating from him. “He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.” Amelia joked, causing a chuckle to come from Meredith.

“Mommy let me come to work with her today, instead of school!” He was cheering, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, I think you’re going to have a lot of fun here!” Meredith replied, her smile was warm and her eyes met Amelia’s. They were both thinking the same thing; if only Derek were here to see this.

After they shared their goodbyes, they were leaving the emergency room and making their way to the attendings lounge, because she needed a coffee. Upon entering, Scout was talking about her job as if he was a doctor, saying that he was the best worker in the whole building, better than her, too. In the attendings lounge they were met up with Bailey, Webber and Jo, who squealed and immediately stood from her seat.

“Oh ..my ...god,” Jo said, pulling out her phone to take a picture. “He’s a mini Link!” Bailey and Webber adverted their eyes from each other, to look over at Scout who was smiling for the camera, the smile taking over his face and one arm of the jacket falling off of his shoulder.

Pouring herself a coffee, she also grabbed one of the doughnuts that were provided and handed it to Scout, who looked like he had just won the lottery. “Someone is one lucky guy.” Bailey spoke up, walking over to the three of them. “I’m Miranda—Dr. Bailey.” She held her hand out as a casual greeting, as Scout’s small hand grabbed her and they were shaking hands.

“I’m Scout!” He introduced himself, as if nobody in the building knew him. “Dr. Shepherd-Lincoln!!”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Shepherd-Lincoln.” Bailey was laughing, Scout gently shaking her hand. He was making his way around the room, going up to each person to show them the flashlight he borrowed from Amelia, and showing off his jacket.

She was watching him in awe, he was perfect. She never imagined her life with kids, but now she can’t imagine her life without him. It was crazy to her that it was possible for her— anyone, to love someone this much. Sometimes she could feel all of her love in her entire body, she just wanted to hug him so tightly and never let him go. He is her entire world.

“Alright, well,” Amelia was heading towards the door. “We’ve got work to do.”

_____

It was her lunch break, Link made sure to call at least twice today because he wanted to talk to Scout and he wanted to remind Amelia that he loved her. The two of them had rounded on her post-up patients, Scout putting a smile on all of her patients faces. For most of her patients, Scout would try and repeat whatever his mom was telling them although he failed because he couldn’t pronounce half of the words; nor did he understand. Amelia ended up finding a second flashlight and she let Scout hold onto it, shining it into peoples eyes at the same time she did it, pretending he knew what he was looking for.

At the table sat her and Scout, as well as Meredith and Maggie. Scout was telling Maggie about her day, and the sleeve of the jacket was getting into the ketchup and fries that was on his plate, and she’ll made a mental note to wash it before Link saw it. “Baby, let’s take Daddy’s jacket off before it gets dirty.” She was reaching over now, pulling the jacket off of both of his arms and placed it in her lap where it will be safe.

Link called just before he had gone into surgery, mentioning that Jo had sent him the photos of Scout earlier and he made sure to tell Scout that the jacket looked better on him than it did on himself. So now, Scout was telling everyone that the jacket was no longer Link’s but that it was his. He told Maggie about how he looked into everyone’s eyes and how he helped her treat a patient (even though he didn’t), and he also told her that he was the best doctor in the whole entire world.

Before she had a chance to finish her lunch, her pager was going off and she was being paged to a surgery, her now light day not being so light. “I’m being paged to OR 3,” she was standing from her chair. “Okay, Scout, you’re going to have to stay with Aunt Maggie just for a bit because I’m needed somewhere and you can’t come with me.” She was glancing over at Maggie now. “That’s okay, right?

“Perfectly fine.” Maggie nodded and she was kissing Scout before she left, making her way to the OR. Scout continued talking about his day with Meredith and Maggie, completely forgetting about the french fries and hot dog that he begged Amelia for.

#amelink #ameliashepherd #link and amelia #atticus link #amelinkfics #ameliafics #amelia #link x amelia #amelia x link #greysanatomyfics #greys anatomy #stories

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fanficshiddles · 3 years

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Private Party, One shot

Summary: Robert Laing enjoyed the parties held in the high rise, especially the New Year’s Eve parties. They were always a blast, usually lasting a lot longer than just one night. But this one was extra special, because his eye was captured by the newest young resident of the high rise.

The both of them bring in the New Year with a bang.

Just some dirty smut with a Dominant Laing.

When Robert laid eyes upon her, she was dancing with a bottle of champagne in her hand, chugging straight from the bottle.

Richard Wilder was chatting to Robert, but he wasn’t listening anymore, not now that his eye had been caught. Wilder noticed though and smirked. ‘Ah, you’ve spotted the fresh meat.’

‘What floor is she from?’ Robert asked, taking another puff of his cigarette before handing it to Wilder.

‘She’s below you.’ Wilder then chuckled. ‘I am guessing soon to be literally too.’

Robert looked at his friend and winked, then started prowling across the room towards her.

When she spotted Robert coming towards her, with meaningful and determined steps, she felt a stirring down below. He was wearing a suit, with a loose tie and his sleeves were rolled up his forearms. His hair was a little messy from the party that had been going on all day, even though it was only eleven at night, still an hour to go before the bells.

Before Robert reached the new beauty, he had managed to grab an unopened bottle of prosecco from the table in passing. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her flush against his body, she could feel a bulge pressing against her stomach already.

‘Why hello there, aren’t you a pretty little thing?’ He purred into her ear, making her shiver.

‘You’re not so bad yourself, big boy.’ She smirked up at him.

Robert chuckled and tightened his arm around her as he tilted his head to the side. ‘Why don’t we go and have our own party?’

She didn’t need to be asked twice as she allowed the Doctor to whisk her away to his apartment with the bottle of prosecco. Robert opened it on the way and they kept taking turns drinking it. By the time they reached his apartment, it was almost finished.

As soon as they got in the door, Robert slammed her against the wall and started kissing her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She dropped the bottle in surprise, neither of them cared that it smashed at their feet.

Their hands were all over each other, in one another’s hair making a mess. Robert grabbed hold of her thighs and hiked her up, pushing against her so she could feel his bulge very evidently against her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and then he carried her outside to his balcony. They could hear the music from the party upstairs blaring down.

Robert put her down on the table and stopped kissing her long enough to tug at her dress, pulling the neck down far enough to reveal her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so he had good enough access to squeeze at them, dipping his head down he suckled on her nipples in turn, making her throw her head back in pleasure as his tongue lavished her.

She reached down and grabbed his cock through his trousers, squeezing him. ‘Oh my! You are a big boy indeed.’ She giggled, feeling the length of him as he grew harder.

‘Ohh fuck!’ Robert moaned and bucked against her hand.

He stopped fondling her breasts and stepped back out of reach so he could undo his tie. ‘Stand up.’ He growled as he pulled it off.

‘What are’ She was cut off when Robert spun her around roughly and grabbed her wrists, forcing them behind her he swiftly restrained her hands behind her back. ‘Ooooh!’ She cooed excitedly.

He flipped her dress up and gave her ass a smack, making her gasp in delighted surprise. Robert guided her over to the edge of the balcony, forcing her to lean forward over the edge so her breasts were hanging over the wall.

Robert tore her panties clean off and quickly stuffed them into his pocket for later. Unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock free, he wasted no more time as he stepped right up against her and slapped her pussy a few times with his cock, making the both of them moan. He could feel how wet she was for him already.

‘You naughty little slut. Letting a complete stranger take you back to his apartment to ravage you.’ He nipped on her earlobe as he pushed the tip of his cock into her, making her cry out in pleasure as she was forced to accommodate him.

‘Ohhhh yes! Please, fuck me!’ She screamed when he was sheathed halfway inside her.

‘With pleasure.’ Robert growled.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he tugged hard, forcing her head right back so she could see him from above her, upside down. His nostrils were flaring as he started pounding into her, the buckle on his belt was slapping against her harshly, but she didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t the only pain she felt, her scalp burned under his grip and her hands were squashed between her back and his body as he moulded himself to her while he fucked her over the edge of his balcony.

The angle wasn’t quite right for Laing though. So he pulled out of her, making her whine in disappointment. But she was turned around and lifted up so her ass on was on the wall, putting her in an even more dangerous predicament.

But it was perfect for Robert as she was able to wrap her legs around him at the right height and his cock slid smoothly back into her. She cried out again as her walls welcomed him in, squeezing him tightly as he hit spots within her she didn’t know existed. The new position allowing him to get much deeper.

Her hands grasped at thin air behind her as the tip of his cock bumped against her cervix, making her cry out in a mixture of utter bliss and pain.

One of his large and capable hands was splayed across her back, making sure she wouldn’t fall backwards to her death while he thrust into her repeatedly, hard. Perhaps fucking her to death instead, which was a much better way to go, she decided.

His other hand was back in her hair, forcing her head right back so he had all the access to her neck that he wanted. Sucking and biting her, leaving his mark on her for everyone to see.

She couldn’t stop moaning as he fucked her into oblivion, she started to cum repeatedly on his cock. Robert was able to push through it, he was enjoying her far too much to be done with her so soon. So even as he came for the first time, he didn’t pull out and emptied himself into her, filling her up so much that she felt his seed oozing out of her when he started thrusting again.

The squelching and lewd noises that came from between their bodies was drowned out by the roaring and cheering from upstairs as they started to count down to the New Year.

When the clocks struck midnight, Robert came inside her once again, setting off another orgasm for her too.

Both of them were panting and trembling as Robert pressed his sweaty forehead against hers. ‘Well, Happy New Year.’ He grinned.

‘Happy New Year indeed.’ She giggled.

When Robert pulled out of her, he stepped backwards and took her with him so she was safely on the ground again. She thought that was it over, but did wonder when Robert didn’t release her wrists from behind her back. Instead, he started removing his belt from the loops while he watched her intently, licking his lips.

‘You don’t think this is over already, do you?’ He asked with a smirk as he moved in close to her again.

‘I… I don’t know.’ She said as he slid his belt around her neck and made a loop out of it through the buckle so it turned into a slip lead of sorts. She gasped as he tugged her towards him, making it tighten around her neck.

‘This party is only just beginning, pet. And it lasts for days.’ He grinned.

She looked down and saw he was hard again. Without needing to be told, she sank down onto her knees beneath him with a smirk.

#tom hiddleston #robert laing #Dr Robert Laing #high rise #fan fiction #one shot #private party #robert laing x OFC

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lunarimpact · 3 years

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An Ode to That Time I Loved You ( and all the words I never said )

Arjuna rests his cheek upon the soft swell of Faye’s thigh, his skin warm, his breath ghosting along her exposed flesh. Dark lashes flutter closed the moment her fingers drift into his dark curls, carefully, gingerly brushing soft strands from his face. Kama rests against her back, drawing baby pink and midnight black locks over their shoulder to watch how the galaxies in their hair reflect along the silken strands. Caenis curls around the archer, wrapping one strong arm around his middle, pressing their chest into his back. This isn’t so bad, Faye thinks, her gaze focused on the holo-screen, already reaching with her free hand to dim the screen’s light, but not enough that she cannot read it over her resting bedfellows.

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

For a moment Dantes almost hesitates, cup of black coffee held out to the tired girl. She blinks once, twice, a third time before reaching out to take the cup from him, her smile as tired as ever. He doesn’t offer her a snide remark, nor a gentle jab once she takes the cup from him, her attention returning to the alternate Jeane who has, at last, passed out from overwork. Sayo drinks deeply of her coffee, her other hand moving slowly, carefully, across the tablet, lining the alter’s beautiful work. He sits, at last, at the abandoned work space and begins to add in the dialogue. They will finish this for her, even if she acts like a brat come the morning.

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

The doctor holds out the tissue box for the other, her words so kind, so unfairly sweet that it makes it even harder not to accept the offering. It makes it harder not to weep over happiness stolen from her by another self. A life forbidden to her. And she wants so desperately to believe that the woman sitting across from her is true. That she does not blame her for what she had no choice to become. It’s not often that the little mermaid gets to speak on land, and let out all the pain which has filled the ocean of her heart.

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

It wasn’t often that anyone asked the queen for a dance, not without believing that she might make some filthy comment, offering the friendship of her thighs in exchange for a little attention. But the Duchess was not one of those people, she took her hand with all the gentleness of a knight, bowing deeply to her. Her touch was chaste, hand resting against her hip like the ghost of a lover. Those rose quartz eyes were captivating, and for a moment she, the Queen of Connacht, felt like she was falling into Merari.

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

Yan Qing sat down like a cat, all languid and lazy beside his Master. He leaned forward farther than what was considered safe given their current location. If he dropped the 60-someodd stories, Su-Yeong doubted he would survive. Probably turn to gold dust and make him use a precious saint quartz to call him back. Not that he was one to talk, given how his feet rested on the ledge, just a hair’s breadth away from falling. His circuits glowed, pattern matched by the blue suit he wore.

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

Beneath her, the knight laughed, tears streaking his cheeks. His words were a half-jumbled mess, French bleeding into Japanese, disintegrating into English, as if he had lost the ability to speak along with his sense. She reached down to brush sweat slick rosy locks from his cheeks so she might take them in hand. Her caress was feather light as she coaxed him to look up at her. In another life, she would stay even if he caught her...

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

Karna lifted Jack from the mountain of pillows, letting the small child rest her head upon his shoulder, her small legs dangling against his sides. He let out a contented sigh, entertaining the memory of carrying his own children so. But the memory was set aside so he might observe the way Arjuna gingerly picked up Nursery Rhyme as though she were one of his long lost children. If their mother were here, he wondered, would she shed a tear to see them carry these children? Would she have shed a tear to see her sons no longer bickering?

⬧ ⬧ ⬧

Ophelia pulls away, hands flying to her mouth as she coughs. She’s not the only one reacting so, as Kadoc greedily downed a glass of milk, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. The doctor stood up quickly, already reaching for the pitcher of ice cold milk to refill both glasses, the jalfrezi all but forgotten. The blond magus blinked in surprise, not pausing as he took a bite of the delightfully red-orange Indian dish, somehow missing the fact that the dish was, indeed, spicy.

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heliads · 3 years

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The Anti-You

Y/N L/N was engineered by the Dread Doctors to be the polar opposite of Scott McCall. She would be an alpha designed to kill him, but as she finds herself increasingly involved in the McCall pack, she’s not sure whether or not Scott’s death will truly be the best thing for her.

masterlist

You’re sure this is going to work out?” You stand staring out at the lights of Beacon Hills, just starting to glimmer into being against the dark of the night. Your arms are folded across your chest, either to maintain a powerful facade or just because you’re cold, you’re not sure which. You’re not sure of a whole lot anymore.

Theo looks at you, emotionless as always. “Of course it will. There’s no way it couldn’t.” He considers you for a second, then places a hand on your shoulder for a second, the gesture hollow and empty of the strength it should have carried. Theo walks away, and behind you comes the roar of his truck’s engine as he drives off, leaving you alone before the glittering map of Beacon Hills. He doesn’t have to say anything more, you know why this has to work- if it doesn’t, you’ll be dead.

The falling darkness should have made it hard to see, would have made it almost impossible were you an ordinary girl. But your eyes glow in the night, and your footsteps fall surely among the twisting hills as you make your way down into the streets of Beacon Hills.

You, of course, are not human. Far from it. You had been, once, back before you’d seen Theo or felt the pain of the Dread Doctors’ experimentation. You had the bad luck of being a genetic chimera, and so the Dread Doctors’ gaze inevitably fell upon you for their latest project. Your hands curl into fists unconsciously by your side when you think of the dark days and long nights spent in that lab, with your arms bound by your sides and your blood spilling onto the ground.

When it was over, you were a chimera twofold. You were human, still, according to them, but with the added bonus of an alpha werewolf’s strength running through you and turning an innocent night dark with the hum of power, even when you didn’t want it. Your eyes should have been a blood red ruby, but they glow sapphire instead, to best go along with whatever lie you’ll tell to Scott. He can’t trust another alpha, they say, so you’ll be a misguided victim and he’ll have no choice but to let you into his pack. Just sell it, Y/N. They don’t have to finish their sentences.

There’s no reason to finish their threats anyways. Power and eye color weren’t the only things changed in you; there was a new hunger lurking somewhere in the space behind your forehead. To make sure you didn’t fail in your task to take down Scott McCall, they put something in your mind to make him your worst enemy, to make you hate him even without seeing him and yearn to put your claws through his throat. You were the anti-Scott, a polar opposite in every way except the claws and fangs. Killing him would be the only goal of your life, the only reason your lungs filled with another breath except to make sure that he took his last. Yes, you would finish your task. Your heart would stop beating if you didn’t.

You find yourself walking the halls of Beacon Hills High School the next day. You’ve been given a locker, a schedule, a false life that you’d add to the lies that surround you. As you turn a corner, you feel his presence before your eyes even land on him. Scott McCall has entered the building.

Your eyes inevitably come to land on him. He’s talking with his friend, some average-looking boy whose voice rises above the others around him. Scott must sense the alpha blood in your veins, because he drags his eyes away from his friend to land on you. His brow furrows, and you can practically sense the suspicions rising in him. He starts to move towards you, but you turn around and head the other way. You’re able to lose him in the crowd, and slip into your next class. You have to play it safe, don’t you?

Once you walk in, the teacher points to the different groups of empty desks. “Take a seat, Miss L/N. You’ll be working in groups of three today.” You nod silently, dropping into a chair near the middle of the class. You only sit there for a couple of minutes before two students slide into seats on either side of you. You glance up quickly when you realize who they are: Scott and Stiles. Of course.

You clear your throat. “I think she said random partners.” Scott just opens his backpack, reaching inside to grab his textbook and place it on the desk in front of him. “Guess that makes us a team. You want to tell us what pack you came from?” You raise an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Scott eyes you. “There’s no need to pretend you’re not a werewolf. I know you are. I just want to know if I have to consider you a threat to this town or not.” You return Scott’s gaze cooly. “Is this a prank or something? Werewolves don’t exist.” Scott sighs. “I’m not a hunter. I’m not out to kill you. I just want to know who you are and why you came.” He glances around to make sure nobody’s watching him, then leans closer to you. His eyes flash red- the scarlet of a true alpha. “See? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Something about seeing his eyes, about knowing just who he is, makes the blood boil in your veins. You shouldn’t be this close without reaching out to slash his throat, without raising a blade to stab him in the heart. You force the anger back down inside you, and force your eyes to glow their blue. “I came to town because I could sense the power emanating from it from miles away. I needed a place to go.”

You look away, forcing yourself to look upset and even regretful. “My pack is dead or gone. I have nobody, no one who would look out for me anymore. I figured a place with some supernaturals wouldn’t be the worst place to die.” Scott nods. “There’s a pack meeting in a couple of days. You should come.”

Your eyes fly back to him. “What?” Scott shrugs. “I think you should join the pack.” You frown. “Just like that? You don’t even know me.” Scott looks at you again, and you feel like his stare can see through every wall you’ve built up, that he can read every thought flickering across your mind. “I could sense your emotions, and you were telling the truth. You have nowhere to go, no people calling your name. We can offer you something better than a death at the hands of the hunters.”

You nod distractedly, grateful for the escape of the teacher starting to announce the assignment. Was this it- you were already a part of the McCall pack? This would be easier than you had thought. Then your brow starts to furrow as you think about what he had said. You did have an agenda, you were here to hurt him. Surely he’d be able to tell that you were lying about everything, that there were people who counted on you and you did have something that mattered to you. But then why did he think you were telling the truth?

Scott McCall isn’t the only member of his pack to welcome you. It’s strange, how easily they all extend their trust, letting it flow from their hands and voices to wrap around you. They hand it out like a flyer on a street corner, like it’s something to be given not earned. There’s no price to the welcome, no second meaning or hidden stare. Just an open heart.

You’re not supposed to be noticing this, you know that much. You have a job to do, and it ends with this pack crumbling to the wind. But every time you see them, every time you feel that strange carefree feeling in your chest, you go home to pain twice as deep as the wound they’d healed. Trusting Scott is having an affect on you, and it’s not one that you’re supposed to feel.

You’re walking out of the crowded school hallways with Scott, weaving around the crowds of people to reach the parking lot. Scott hesitates by his motorcycle, knowing that he should leave even as something pulls at his shoulders to stop him. You recognize the look on his face, that inner want to not be alone. You’ve seen it on yourself more than a couple of times.

So you turn back to him, mumbling something about how you forgot to bring your key with you and you needed a place to stay for the afternoon. Scott’s face instantly lights up, and he hands you a motorcycle helmet as a way of saying yes. You climb onto the bike after him and wrap your arms around his chest. You can feel the slight pull of his muscles as he kicks his legs off of the ground, the twist of his back as he steers. You lean your head against his shoulders, letting yourself breathe in and out slowly. Your eyes close, then flutter open as he comes to a stop.

He leads you up the walkway to the front door, sliding the key into the lock with a click of metal against metal. The door opens, and you follow him. Even if Scott hadn’t shown you the way home, you’d know this house was his. Traces of him linger in every corner and hall of the house, in the smooth wallpaper and stretching floorboards. He is here, in every inch and stone.

The two of you pull out your books and pens, homework spreading out across the table. As you finish a chapter, you glance up at him, and freeze just slightly in place. He’s leaning over some math problem, hair falling in a lazy frame around his face. The sight of him like this, so trusting and open, should fill you with the want to use this opportunity and kill him, but it doesn’t. It just makes you want to stay even longer.

Scott hops up from the table to grab a binder from his room, and you’re left in the sudden empty stillness. Your eyes keep dancing to the door where he’d left, as if the seconds without him leave you hollow and numb. Something’s changed about the way you feel about him, and the realization comes gradually and then all at once. It’s love, isn’t it? That’s what this is. This fullness where an empty hole once resided, this want to reach out a hand and feel it held instead of extending claws. You love him.

Something slides across your throat. You start to cough, the feeling choking you until you’re practically bent double. When you reach a hand across your mouth, you stare as it comes back tainted silver. Mercury.

There’s a sound at the other side of the room, and you realize Scott’s coming back. You hurriedly drag your hand across your mouth, getting rid of all signs of that deadly silver, and pretend nothing is wrong. You head out soon after that, pretending your parents have arrived to let you in. Scott waves you goodbye with a smile and a promise to keep his door open for you.

When you get home, you drop down to the floor, knees pulled up to your chest as waves of pain crash over you. Tissues lie crumpled around you when dawn finally breaks, each one of them drowned in that hateful mercury. Your head is leaned up against the cool glass of the window, and you wear a t-shirt despite the freezing air in a desperate attempt to stop the fever that’s just a few seconds from arriving. You have to fake it, pretend like you’ve hated Scott all along. The Dread Doctors will kill you for this, if your own body doesn’t do it for them first.

Theo arrives, as planned. He spews his lies, as promised. You turn away when you see him, pretend it doesn’t hurt to know that his presence will only make things worse. You fake your smiles when you see him, do anything to keep him off your back. You spend your days with Scott and the others, filling up those hours of daylight with happiness so you can hold those memories tight at night, when the mercury threatens to drown you whole. The sound of their laughter is like a blanket wrapped around you, the one sheer line of protection against the knowledge you’ve been pushing aside, that at any moment you could die.

There’s a disturbance at the library. Mason’s driving Ms. McCall to the school, and his voice is issuing from your phone. Liam’s there, too, with Scott. Liam’s supposed to be turned against his own alpha, they’re supposed to be fighting. You head to the high school as soon as you hear it, spinning around corners and sprinting down halls until you come to a sudden stop in the open doors of the library.

A muted, tortured cry escapes from your lips when you see it. Theo stands over Scott’s body, claws extended through his heart. They both turn and see you at the same time. Theo nods. “It’s done.” You shake your head softly. “This-this isn’t-” Theo just tilts his head. “We both knew this was how it would end.” There’s the sound of running footsteps behind you, and Theo disappears into the night just as Mason and Ms. McCall burst into the room.

You can’t move, can’t drag yourself away from the sight of Scott bleeding out onto the floor. You can feel him die, feel it in the sureness of your heartbeat even as his ends. You know you should be leaving, because Theo’s as good as turned you in, but your feet are frozen in place. You don’t think you could move them if you tried.

You stay there until Ms. McCall manages to revive him, then finally slip away. You drive down the dark and twisting roads until you reach your house. You don’t bother to lock the door- you’ll be dead by the time anyone tries the knob. Everything changed when Scott took that first gasping breath, like your body knew that you failed and decided to punish you for it. You sit down unsteadily in that same corner, head pressed up against that same window. You don’t know how many hours you’ve spent here, wasting away your last few days as the dead and dying, but you don’t think you’ll get up again.

The silence is broken by someone stepping into the room. You don’t bother to look up, not until he’s a few feet away from you. You just sigh in relief. “You’re alright.” Scott nods. “I wish I could say the same thing about you. Do the Dread Doctors know? Are they coming to take you back?” You glance back up at him, shocked. “You knew?”

Scott chuckles. “I knew you were a chimera for a long time. Your heartbeat was too perfect to be a normal werewolf, and I saw the tints of mercury.” You close your eyes for just a second. “I’m so sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry about everything.” You chuckle despite yourself, the laugh coming out as damaged and broken. “You know, I’d kind of come to terms with my own death. I was fine with it happening to me, but I couldn’t take it when you died. Like I was allowed to die, but not you. It couldn’t be you.”

Scott sits down next to you, arms crossed across his knees. You watch him, eyebrows lifting slightly in confusion. “You should go. You don’t want to be found when they come for me.” Scott shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now, not ever.” He reaches over; grasps your hand and links it with his. “I’m not letting you go.” You start to speak, but have to break away, coughing. “I won’t be much longer. If you want any chance to defeat Theo and the Dread Doctors, you have to hold to your one advantage. They don’t know you’re alive. You have to keep it that way.”

You sigh, looking away from him. “I have done so much wrong by you. Please, let me at least die knowing you got away.” Scott places a gentle hand on your chin, forces you to face him again. “I’m not letting you die.” You chuckle softly, breaking off once you start coughing so much it hurts to breathe. “I’m not sure you have much choice about that. Besides, why would you stay? I betrayed your trust, betrayed the entire pack. I’m the reason you died.”

Scott considers your hand, which is still linked in his. He reaches out his other hand to hold it before your eyes. “You weren’t the one with the claws through my heart. I knew the risks, I still took him on.” You shake your head softly. “Why are you doing this? Why are you staying here?” Scott looks at you, eyes taking in the labored breathing of your chest, the mercurial blood starting to tinge your tears a shade of silver.

Then he leans over, kisses you. You feel your heart falter once, then beat stronger than it ever has before. It’s funny- in this moment, you let everything go. All the walls come crashing down, everything you held in place so you could cling to those last moments before your own head shut you down. In this moment, you let yourself stay with him, his lips on yours. It is blissful and brilliant, and it is killing you just as surely as anything. It’s the feeling of falling down, down, down, but then something catches you and pulls you back up again.

When you look up at him, you notice the webs of black spiralling over him, disappearing into shirt sleeves and loose collars. You break away. “Stop. You can’t do this- taking that much pain would kill you.” Scott just grins. “I already died. It won’t do much.” You laugh in spite of yourself, then stare at your hands in surprise. You don’t feel weak anymore. No, you feel strong, stronger than you have in weeks and even months. You feel whole again, pure without that overbearing rage that the Dread Doctors forced into you.

Scott cups his hand around your cheek, studying you. “The mercury is gone. I think-” You finish his sentence. “I think you saved my life.” A smile grows across his face, and he kisses you again. It’s fitting, isn’t it? He was the one to rescue you from death. He, the one you were supposed to kill. He, whose survival should have killed you had he not pulled you from the darkest waters and made you whole again. You were supposed to be his polar opposite, the mortal enemy. Instead, you take his hand, and pledge to never leave his side.

When the Dread Doctors finally arrive at the house, they find it empty. There are no dead girls, or broken alphas. Just two pairs of tire tracks leading away, two paths that should have destroyed each other when they crossed but brought healing instead of pain. Two alphas, who have escaped together.

#scott mccall #scott mccall imagine #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall imagines #scott mccall oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf oneshot

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viriyanon · 3 years

Note

'tired' ? for your challenge :P

a.n. anon u... u reel me into a very dangerous thought okay. for the first 3 minutes, congratulation. but not after that. not toDAY SATAN!!1!1!1!!1

also. this is unexpectedly LONG. SO. LONG.

jiang yuelou sighs in annoyance after hanging up zhan junbai's phone call, telling him that his men failed to track down hong kong's emerging opium dealer that currently supplies jing city with an unidentified type of poppy. the whole police bureau is on fire due to this discovery.

"all i could confirm is that they indeed sell a new type of opium, presumably from india. but we failed to extract any information about the leader, let alone catching them. they were enforced by british authorities and my men suddenly were outnumbered," says junbai dimly from the other side of the line, clearly not liking the unpredicted variable in their perfectly planned undercover.

the executive offers an apology, which yuelou dismisses in a second 'cause executive zhan, regardless this one very failure, is still the best external alliance ever. the most reliable source, partner, and friend. yuelou can't ask for a better connection than zhan junbai.

but that doesn't change the current result. coming with that are mayor cai's aggravation and bai jinbo's wrath. song rong and sun yongren can only dip their head down watching the commissioner throw those paper in their boss' face, saying how incompetent yuelou is.

("well, let's see if commissioner bai can capture them by himself!" sun yongren says quietly, aggressively biting a baozi in his head 'cause it's pass dinner already.)

so, having a bad day is an understatement. it's beyond bad, it's bad bad. jiang yuelou is not someone who accepts defeat easily, he never wants to be one step behind. when he's one step behind, he must be in the chasing mode—he must be the one controlling the lane, the illusion of safety margin that manipulates the target's decision, the pace of their game. but today, someone else's successfully taking over him without his permission, dragging him around like a lifeless ragdoll.

thinking about him getting controlled by an unknown party burns him, anger boils in his vein—violence at the tip of his fingers, ready to transfer his rage to anything and anyone without mercy. upon seeing jiang yuelou disappear into his room, song rong and sun yongren immediately rush to every corridor that yuelou will have to walk through to exit the building, telling everyone not to initiate any conversation if their boss pass them by to avoid making the bureau a blood painted crime scene.

"don't- don't talk to chief jiang when he walks out, understand?!" sun yongren repeats the same information to some rookies coming in for their night shift before running to other corridor. the young officers, still with their idealism and lack of experience, take it with a grain of salt.

next thing they know is they freeze under the wall-mounted lamp as jiang yuelou grimly walks down the corridor. noone says anything to him, not even looking up from the carpeted tiles after they nod to salute him. his subordinates immediately clear out of his way, bumping their shoulders into the wall to avoid bumping into the walking wrath instead.

the said chief passes by the rookies too, giving them a side-eye, and they feel like they just get caressed by death. the yellow lights from the filament lamp falls on his pale white face, clenched jawline, and riled expression every two meter, making his appearance more hair-rising due to scanty lighting and blank spots. in addition, winter wind is particularly strong this week, easily slipping inside from the gap between the window frame and the stone surface. the corridor, dimly lit and gravely chilling, feels like a gate to the underworld and yán wáng is coming to take them personally, for a good minute.

the chief keeps striding without diverting his attention anymore, eyes fixed forward to shove everyone aside. he only has one destination set in his mind now and before he gets to it, his revolver will aim towards whoever gets in his way and extricate them his way, which usually is... freestyle.

when yuelou arrives in front of yuzhi’s front gate, he can’t help the bubbling anger overflowing his already small pot. the wooden doors are closed, tight, locked, yelling at him “no chen yuzhi today.” noone in this world would understand the immense effect this sentence can do to jiang yuelou who has grown a co-dependency with the doctor. today is marked as yuelou’s worst setback in life.

the chief exhales loudly, admitting his defeat to the universe, and makes his way towards his house with heavy shoulders. the rage and anger he wanted to lash out recklessly towards chen yuzhi douses entirely by the fact that the doctor’s not home to listen to him vent. thank goodness the snowfall is not heavy today unless he’d bury himself under the thick snow in one of jing city’s darkest alley. it’s sad that he is alone in this big, big world today. dramatic, but valid.

just when he’s about to open the gate to his house, he sees they are already unlocked. jiang yuelou never forgets unlocking his own house. facing unforeseen danger on daily basis, yuelou immediately slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out the revolver from its holster. he opens the wooden gate slowly, trying not to make even a creak from the rusty hinge and accidentally announce his appearance instead.

slowly but steadily, the gap widens and he steps inside with his arms are stretched out, his revolver is ready for some quick shooting. but he is welcomed with his brightly lit house in lieu of a group of opium dealers whose lives he ruined in the past. his eyes widen in disbelief upon seeing steam rising from freshly cooked foods on his dining table. yuelou freezes from his place, his arms gradually lowering themselves as well as his self defense.

soon, a man dressed in a warm ivory white knitted turtleneck appears with two plates of dish in his hand coming out from his kitchen and setting them on the table with other dishes. his hair, as usual, combed neatly—unlike yuelou’s hasty finger-combing technique. he is wearing yuelou’s slipper, the one he left behind in his living room when he was off to work. the moment the said man looks up and meets him in the eyes, a smile blossoms on his face, so beautiful yuelou can feel his heart wrenches from the mere sight.

"yuelou? you're home."

this is the view he's always dreaming of for God knows how long but never dares to tell. to come home to chen yuzhi dressed in a warm clothes, smiling under the bright light of jiang residence and welcoming him with a tight hug. and if he tells him he misses him into his ear, yuelou will pepper him with kisses all over his face, free of charge for undeterminable time, until yuzhi is tired from giggling and trying to escape from his iron grip. until he puts his palm over yuelou's lips as the last attempt to prevent him from attacking his face again and smile playfully at yuelou's temporary defeat. until the glint in his gleaming doe eyes changes into something like want, something that sounds like a request to kiss him properly if yuelou has some energy left to be wasted.

and jiang yuelou will not ask twice if he catches yuzhi's eyes flicker to his lips just once and goes back to meet his eyes. because yuzhi will see him doing the same thing too and he will understand that both of them want it.

jiang yuelou slams the wooden gate close, storming towards chen yuzhi whose eyes widen at his explosive reaction. impulsivity has neither been a best friend nor a rival, in yuelou’s case, but he learns to run for what his heart longs the most. and this is the first time his body really runs for what his heart wants. his heart wants comfort.

the chief throws away his revolver once he is inside his house and immediately reaches out for the doctor. one of his arm pulls yuzhi closer to his body as tight as he could while the other one is fixated on yuzhi's jawline, gently tilting it to a better angle ‘cause,

fuck this.

"yue-"

chen yuzhi never finishes his name as yuelou closes their gap and captures his upper lip, his teeth painfully clashing against yuelou as the latter miscalculates his strength. but yuelou doesn’t stop to apologize like every time he accidentally hurt him, instead crowding him against the dining table and kissing the light out of him as if the last time he had a meal was a thousand years ago.

yuzhi is confused, very confused. this is not their first kiss, but this is the first kiss that yuelou does so overly rough, messy, and raw, like a mass mayhem in a week long blackout. he knows yuelou tends to be stormy when his trauma is triggered or his mission falls by the wayside but he never lets this kind of weather affects his behavior and treatment towards chen yuzhi. after the doctor treats him routinely and he gradually gets better at controlling his emotion.

understanding and patiently waiting are yuzhi’s best weapons to pacify yuelou, returning him back to the ground until both of his feet firmly embed to the soil. he only needs to mold it into a form of physical affection without trying to change his pace. something that jiang yuelou will perceive as an act of submission. only this way, yuelou can and will melt. he is not a man who can be persuaded by asserting one’s power on him, and coercion is never chen yuzhi’s forte anyways.

the doctor gently squeezes yuelou’s shoulder once where he places his hands before and moves to hook them around his neck. he buries his right hand in his black hair, his fingers are warm and heavy against the skin of yuelou’s head. his thumb is rubbing a small circle on his back head tenderly, like a mantra he does it over and over again until jiang yuelou comes back to his sense.

that’s when yuelou’s grip on his waist loosens little by little, his turbulent kissing reduces to a slower and intimate one—the one that always trips chen yuzhi and makes him fall deeper for the other man and his enigma. soft moan slips out of his lips only to get muffled by yuelou’s inadvertent growl.

they gasp for air eventually but never leaving their hands from each other’s body, not quite ready to let go. in between their huff and puff, yuelou steals a soft kiss on yuzhi’s cheekbone.

“i’m sorry, love. i was–” yuelou hesitantly looks up, straight into yuzhi’s eyes. the decision is a bad move, probably the only bad move that yuelou has ever made ‘cause the emotion in yuzhi’s eyes, they remain calm and considerate, far from judgmental nor do they spiteful. his lips are bruised as hell but his eyes, they never stop glistening with benevolence and never-ending patience towards his lover.

jiang yuelou can’t stand the guilt rising in the depth of his heart after seeing them. they are together, chen yuzhi chooses to be with him not to be his outlet of rage. the image of his defenseless late mother flashes in yuzhi’s face and he instantly regrets whatever he forced yuzhi into earlier. even if it’s just a kiss, something he did daily, routinely, sneakily, wholeheartedly, nothing really abusive and malignant about it but yuzhi might be hurt today. and if yuelou hurts him, he is breaking his own rule written on the very top of the list.

“yuzhi, i’m sorry i–” chen yuzhi slides his hands, cupping the older man’s face that looks like a 13 year old boy now under the weight of his guilt. smiling ever so fondly, he says, “you are tired, love.”

words stuck in yuelou’s throat for the third time upon seeing yuzhi’s eyes that have perfectly sensed his weary and withheld agitation. it’s his red light, then. it’s time for him to let yuzhi take control of the situation and do his part of the day. to do what he is the best at that yuelou is the worst at. any other matters can wait until yuzhi deems him to be fully loaded with ammo and health again.

jiang yuelou leans forward into chen yuzhi’s body, resting his feverish forehead on the crook of his lover’s neck, seeking comfort and humanly touch. yuzhi can’t help smiling at yuelou’s clinginess—he never says it but he absolutely loves it. love the idea to take care of the most troublesome chief officer in the whole jing city. love the way his toned muscles and tensed neck relax under his lithe fingers as he bathes him in a bathtub.

“let me prepare hot water for your bath.”

“will you wash my hair too?”

“hm.”

“what else will you wash?”

chen yuzhi presses a kiss on yuelou’s cheek, whispering “make a wish” before walking towards the kitchen, and disappear behind the white wall.

#viriyanon answer #killer and healer #jiang yuelou #chen yuzhi #yuezhi #killer and healer fic #i should stick to making gif and doing fanart rite #viriyanon writes #of burned sunset

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bitters-enthusiast · 3 years

Text

birthday fic but belated

@timmys-and-scribbles i love you and i am sorry in advance if this is long and cheesy but

1. that’s julian and

2. that’s just showbiz babey

happy belated birthday bestie i hope you enjoy

“No, you don’t understand! Please, I’ll-- I’ll beg on my knees if I have to!”

Julian could be seen, and probably heard, from a block away pleading a poor man operating a gondola on the canal, and it didn’t look much like the man was giving in to him either.

The man shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. “You-- you don’t have to get on your knees. But I still can’t do it, I’m sorry. It’s too short notice.”

The sob that came from the redhead next was anything but subtle, and he shoved his face in his hands. “Please. Please, sir, everyone else has cancelled on me. Don’t you want to be the minority?? Wouldn’t that be a more interesting story for you?? Please, I’ll pay double, I just need this ride tonight. It doesn’t have to be all night, even just an hour if I could--”

The gondola rower rolled his eyes. The dramatics were a bit much, but Julian had good selling points. “Fine! Fine, if it means you’ll leave me alone and I can get back to work, I’ll do it for double.”

Julian almost screamed in excitement, and grabbed the man by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake, beaming a smile from ear to ear. “Thank you! Thank you, you’ve saved me. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few hours!”

After having shaken this man nearly to death, Julian decided it was time to start grocery shopping. If he was going to plan the perfect dinner for his perfect partner in crime, he wanted to have the perfect ingredients. After all, a pirate couldn’t ask someone to court him if he didn’t at least offer food and drink. . . right?

He didn’t want to stress about it. This day was already a long time coming, but every time he thought he’d worked up the courage, he found it all lost again when Julianne teased him, or plotted with him another sneaky escapade. This woman definitely, without realizing, always kept him on his toes. And he wanted to return the favor, at least for tonight. Besides, a fun date never hurt anybody, even if he didn’t wind up asking her to be his girlfriend.

The doctor spent about an hour or so shopping around for a dinner worth remembering. It took some time thinking of recipes he knew from the top of his head, but he settled on something fond from his childhood. Something Mazelinka almost always made, and almost everyone always liked it: soup. You couldn’t go wrong with a perfect soup dish paired with bread. Plus, looking for fresh ingredients and bartering with the merchants kept his mind off of the pent up anxiety he was feeling about everything. At least a dinner he was making by himself couldn’t be cancelled last minute.

He’d finally settled on everything he needed, and was beginning to head back to the ship. He was carelessly swinging his bags back and forth, whistling a merry little tune to keep him in high spirits.

The high spirits lasted all of five minutes to keep his mind off his worries.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Julianne, speaking to a familiar baker about eating some lunch. She was ordering some food when she caught him out of the corner of her eye, and excitedly called him over.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She wouldn’t notice the bags, right? Of course she’d notice the bags. But he could just pass it off as stuff for the crew! Or maybe he could just pretend as if he didn’t see her--

Of course he couldn’t do that.

Awkwardly, he put his arms behind his back, the bags hanging over them. He gave a strange smile and headed toward Juli, giving a head nod of acknowledgement.

“Heyyyyyyyy... how are, uh-- whatcha up to?”

The woman raised a brow, a smile on her lips as she had just finished joking with the baker. “I’m........ ordering food. Why are you being weird?”

Uh oh.

Julian gave a dismissive ‘psh”, his face turning into an expression of confusion. “I’m not being weird. You’re weird for asking that, Juli. Anyway, what’s on the menu? What’s, uh, what’s for lunch?”

Julianne immediately knew something was up, but she wouldn’t press him about it until later. For now, she’d give him a bit of a hard time about it to see if he’d spill. “Food. Looks like,” she leaned over a bit, just a small part of his groceries in view, “you also have food on the menu.”

He leaned the opposite way, trying to make the bags less noticeable from her angle. “Oh. Oh! These, right. Yeah, Cap sent me out for errands today. You know those men, uh, always hungry! Yeah, can’t go forever without snacking, even if there’s only four of them on ship!”

A small laugh came from Juli. Yeah, she’d have to find out later. “Right. Well, I have to go eat before I go back to my own errands. Would you like to join?”

Why’d she have to be so sweet?? It made him all the more nervous, and he wasn’t being a very convincing actor at the moment. “Oh, I wish I could, darling! But Cap has been on my ass this morning about staying on task! We all know how, um, fleeting time is! I’ve gotta go, don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later on board, right?”

Her eyebrow still raised, she adjusted her own bag and nodded. “Ri--”

“Okay! Perfect! Amazing, and even perfect, you could say. Oh. Wait, I said perfect twice. Anyway, farewell! See you tonight.”

Juli watched as Julian walked away backward, still trying to hide his groceries. As he finally got further away, he tried turning away quickly to take off running, but accidentally bumped into a busy woman passing by. He apologized promptly and profusely, making sure she was at least okay before taking off again.

Yeah, he was up to something.

It finally had gotten darker outside, the sun setting as Julian strode back toward the boat. After a few hours, he had prepared dinner, finalized the gondola plans, and had even set up an nice surprise afterward to make sure everything was picture perfect. As if he hadn’t used the word ‘perfect’ to describe what he was going for all day. With his hands in his pockets, he’d finally settled down on his way back toward the ship, fairly confident in how the night would go.. at least for now.

As he got closer to his familiar home of sorts, excited to meet Julianne and to get the night started after all this planning he’d done, Julian stops aboard the ramp of the ship, watching as Juli was mid-conversation with his crewmate and co-captain, Gerard.

Damn it. Here we go.

Forcing a smile, he stepped closer to hear their conversation.

A hearty laugh came from the crewmate, one that sounded incredibly devious to Julian’s desperate ears. “He really lied to your face like that, Miss Juli? Ah, you know I’d never treat you that way~”

Shut up. Shut up, Gerry. Not tonight.

Julianne would have been seen to smirk, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that he lied maliciously. I’ll still get him back for lying. But I know he’s doing something behind my back. I’m just confused as to what it is.”

Gerard leaned back against the rail of the ship, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Still. You know, it’s taken him far too long to commit to you. Maybe it’s time you give the ol’ captain a try. I,” a puff of his chest, and he placed his hand upon his heart, “wouldn’t have made you wait this long for me to meet up after lying to you, maiden.”

It was taking everything in Julian to not barge into their conversation immediately. The confidence he’d built on the way back was slowly diminishing, but he’d wait a few more seconds to see where this conversation went.

“Co-captain, Gerard.” Julianne shook her head in amusement, also taking a seat on a nearby barrel. Might as well make herself comfortable as she waited. “How would Zora feel if she heard you giving yourself all the credit?”

“Hopefully very, very awfully.” Gerard chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “But my point remains. See how he still isn’t here? That just proves my--”

If Julian wasn’t known for dramatic entrances, then the sky wasn’t known to be blue. As if on cue, interrupting Gerard as he tried to make his “point” was easy as pie for Julian, and he climbed aboard with the biggest, most confident grin he could muster to save face. “Julianne, my love!” He greeted as if she were the biggest and most important guest he could ever serve, stepping between the two to swoop her into a hug. “I’m terribly sorry it took me so long to get back! I got caught in a scuffle between two men arguing, and you know I can’t resist a good fight.” The last lines were said between almost-gritted teeth, and Julianne pulled away from his hug reluctantly.

Like her expression was before at the marketplace, she had her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Is that so? They didn’t happen to also be the ones to eat your snacks, were they?”

Gerard chuckled from behind, making himself comfortable both physically and in conversation. “I’d say Ilyushka has a bit of a hole to dig himself out of here, hmm?”

Begrudgingly, Julian turned to look at Gerard with the same forced smile.

“Don’t you have a hole to dig yourself into, co-captain? Go find some buried treasure.”

A laugh from the man, as well as a clever reply, “Ah, but why would I go search for one when there’s one perfectly right before my eyes?” He flashed a smile in Julianne’s direction, and then gave an innocent, seemingly curious head tilt to Julian. “Oh, unless you couldn’t see that for yourself. It seems that eyepatch gets in the way of you looking past yourself and seeing what’s in front of you.”

The smirk began to fall from the redhead’s face, and he tried not to ball up a fist onto his friend right about now. In the end, he knew Gerry was teasing, but it didn’t make the blow less hard on his ego.

Julianne wasn’t naive to the tension; she started to make off-topic conversation. “I think Gerard is talking about the wine that Zora brought back after making a deal with the bartender down the street. Something about bringing back some of that Salty Bitters stuff from Vesuvia that you like so much. He wanted to advertise something new.”

“Right. The wine is the treasure I was talking about.” A final chuckle from Gerard and he stood, clapping a hand against Julian’s shoulder. “Save me some dessert, Ilya. You know where my room is. Send her my way.”

“Bye, Gerry. Have a good night.” Julian pulled away slightly, looking his friend up and down.

Gerard gave a hum of triumph, and pulled his hand away. On his way toward the steps downstairs, he gave a final “You know I will.” in reply.

Once he was finally out of view, Julian deemed it safe to turn back to Juli for conversation. “I am.... so, so sorry, Juli. I know you’ve been waiting for a while.”

“I know you heard the conversation with Gerard.” She replied, placing her hands upon his shoulders. “I’ve been here for a whole of ten minutes. You know how he is. Dramatic.”

He gave a soft scoff in return, rolling his eyes. “More than I am sometimes.”

With a laugh, Julianne pulled her hands away, but not before giving him a gentle pat to the face. “Not quite.” Getting up from the seat she’d made herself, she patted down the dirt that’d gotten on her dress from doing so. “Anyway, are you finally done acting weird, or are you going to keep me on my toes.”

“Well.......” Julian gave a shrug, “Hopefully the latter. But not in a bad way, I swear. I do.”

The woman only gave him a pointed glare in response. In defense, he gently took hold of her hand, and began to lead her off the ship.

“Here. Just follow me.”

The doctor had finally gotten Juli all to himself. After all the shenanigans of the day, he could finally wind down and listen to her talk about her day. Her errands, odd customers, the odds and ends of magic that he enjoyed listening to her go on and on about. It was what gave him some sense of normalcy among the absurdity that he endured on the regular. The gondola ride had gone smoothly, and he had definitely given the rower far more than he was worth. If not just for the theatrics and the experience, he hoped that Juli enjoyed it. Maybe she’d grown suspicious of him throughout the day, but he wanted to make it up to her.

They talked about a woman who’d called Julianne in to help cleanse her home, not knowing the “cleanse” wasn’t anything spiritual -- it was because the woman had attempted far too many cleaning spells and caused an overgrowth in weeds in her garden and magic cobwebs in her corners. Julianne had to explain that “cleansing” a house didn’t actually mean to clean it.

How cute. How cute, how cute.

An hour or so had gone by, and after their ride, they both thanked the rower tremendously. They’d even gotten a complimentary bottle of wine and a basket of fruit -- or maybe the rower was being kind since Julian had paid him so handsomely.

Then, he took Julianne back toward the shore.

He had taken hold of her hand and not let go, leading her down the beach close to the docks their ship had stopped on. He was sure she probably thought something odd was going to happen by the end of the night, but he wanted to make sure she enjoyed her time nonetheless.

As they walked, he made soft conversation.

“You know, the ocean is a view I could never get sick of. It’s so beautiful. And when the moonlight hits it just right--” he gave a chef’s kiss of sorts with his free hand.

“I guess that’s a good thing, considering you’re on a ship the majority of your time.” Juli teased, giving him a gentle nudge. “But I think so too. It’s very captivating. Calming, even.”

“Like you, hmm?” Turning his gaze from the ocean to Juli, he gave a wink.

With a fond roll of her eyes, she laughed a little. “You’re still being weird.”

“What? No. This is just regular ol’ Ilya.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

He grinned in turn, a grin full of absolute adoration. It was getting easier to rebuild that confidence from earlier.

They continued their playful banter, all the way up until hey reached a hidden little cove, a tucked away cave of sorts, with a light shining from within. They were far away enough now that the lamps in town seemed like blur now, and Julian preferred it that way for what he had been planning.

Julianne stopped, looking up at her partner with a confused expression. “What’s this?”

He let go of her hand, make sure he didn’t seem as if he were coming off maliciously. They had met, after all, under the guise that he was a murderer on the run. Julian offered one of his grins, the sweet kind, the kind that made you want to follow him into the unknown on an adventure you wouldn’t want to return from.

“Just dinner. You trust me, right? You don’t still think I’m a weirdo?”

“Well. I definitely do.”

A laugh came from Julian, and he just shook his head. He continued forward into the cave, giving her a nod to follow.

She did, and as they entered, a small table Julian had stolen off the ship was sitting in the middle of the cave, lit candles surrounding it in the sand below to keep light inside. On the table sat dinner: two bowls covered to stay warm, bread on either side of them, a great big glass of wine in the center of the table, and two glasses for one each.

With a great big swoop of his arm, he gestured toward the set up with a smile.

“Well, here’s the thing I was acting strange about. I just wanted... to set up something nice for the both of us.”

After her jaw had dropped at the initial shock, Juli turned to the man with a growing smile, and she genuinely looked impressed. “I’m surprised you could keep a secret this long.” Although she teased, she found his dinner setup rather charming. Nothing short of the extravagance he made for himself since the day she met him.

He continued forward once more, pulling one of the chairs out for her to sit. Once she was seated, he also took a seat, and began to pour them each a glass of wine to drink.

“Also, I stole this wine. This is the one Zora brought back, and Gerard is probably looking for now. Serves him right trying to steal my thunder.”

The woman laughs, reaching for her glass once it’s filled. “They’re going to kill you.”

He shrugged yet again, his signature smirk puling at his lips. “Worth it, if not just for the thrill of the escape.”

As Julian reached to uncover the bowls, a warm, earthy and flavorful aroma takes over the cave, and he explains his escapade to gather ingredients. Making the food proved to be a pain, having to bribe the ship’s cook to let him take over the kitchen to prepare their food, and to help him set everything up while he was out on the gondola ride with Julianne. He talked about how he now owed the cook kitchen duty for a week, and had to scrub the inside of the old hearth to make up for it. But it was worth it for him, to see how much she enjoyed his childhood favorite food. All the more memories to create, even if it was just soup.

Throughout dinner, it seemed as though Julian had about finished off the bottle of wine by himself. He was getting a little tipsy, and a bit more nervous toward the end of them eating. If only he had more liquid courage to help him out.

Julianne noticed how awkward he’d begun to get as dinner went on. When they finally cleared their bowls, he started going on about the importance of the correct shoes in acting. Something was up.

She reached for his hands, which were getting ready to pour the last few drops of alcohol into his glass.

“Ilya, tell me what’s the matter.” Her voice was soft compared to his big, velvety tone. He couldn’t help himself, not in this state of mind.

“I- no, nothing’s the matter! I’m just saying, how can you frolic about in a tunic and boots? Sure they look great for the aesthetic and for the costume, but you need the smaller and more rounded shoes to move around the stage more fleetly.”

“You’re talking about shoes, Julian, after we just had a nice dinner in a fancy set up in a remote cave.” She laughed a little at the situation, and gave his hands a little squeeze. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She was right. And he knew that she was. He hadn’t spent all day preparing for this moment to talk about how quick your movements need to be on stage. He had put all of this off long enough. Hell, for months. He was surprised she’d even stuck around that long, unless she thought this was all totally platonic.

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, there-- there is something I have on my mind.” He let out a slow sigh, mentally preparing himself for his little speech. He knew that she would listen to every word, even if he slurred and stuttered his way through it. Her touch gave him a bit of sobering up, and in turn, he moved his hands to grab hers instead, leaning in closer to her presence.

“I.. hm. I’ve known you for quite a while now. And, for some reason, it feels like I’ve known you far longer than the several months we’ve been adventuring together. I don’t even know if that’s what you’d call it-- never mind. Regardless, darling, it feels like I’ve known you longer than a lifetime. Like I’ve known you since a life too distant to remember. And you... Julianne, you just seem so familiar. You met me thinking that I was a murderer. A fugitive. And even then, even after you thought I was using you, you stuck. You stuck with me. Up until then, I struggled so hard to find something like home. You gave me a chance, and I can tell you haven’t regretted it thus far. I just... don’t ever want to have to just remember you again. I want you to stick around. You’re perfect to be around. My perfect adventuring find. My... my perfect partner. We’ve never made any official call for what this is, and... I know this is all so ridiculous and grandiose and seems like some sort of proposal. In... in a way, it is. I just--” he lets his head fall, and he takes a pause, before he looked back up into Julianne’s face. “Please, little dove, would you give a pirate a chance and just call yourself mine already?”

...

Julianne, flustered, and unsure of how to respond in the immediate moment, searched Julian’s eyes for his genuine feelings. It was a long search -- after all, he’d just poured his onto the table, practically. This wasn’t at all a surprise, they had in fact been in some rut of infatuation without ever having admitted it to one another. It was always just implied. But here they were now, Julian basking in all of his monologuing glory...

Before she could respond, he was quick to make a joke, giving her hands a squeeze as she did his before he had come clean. “Plus, now I’m less likely to get in trouble for starting a fight with Gerard, seeing as how we’d be an official couple rather than just flirting, fleeting friends.”

Julianne shook her head, letting it fall as she let out a laugh. “You... are quite simply the most unbearable person I’ve ever met. In the best way possible.” Looking back up, he simply gave a friendly and teasing shrug in response, and she leaned in to seal the space between them with a kiss.

It wasn’t long before it grew passionate, one full of longing and hope from both of them. It would be hard for Julian to pull away, had he not been wait for a response. Before he let the kiss get carried away, he pulled back, a hand pressed to Juli’s face.

“So?”

She looked him in the eyes, lifted a hand toward his face, and promptly gave him a flick to the nose.

“Ow!?” His brow furrowed, “What was that for??”

“For lying to my face earlier. I just needed you to know I didn’t forget.”

A huffy laugh came from the redhead as he reached to rub at his nose, now stinging slightly in pain. “Alright. Noted.”

She offered a final, soft smile, reaching to gently swipe her thumb over his nose in comfort. The woman then reached in for a soft peck. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Ilya. Or rather, your co-captain.”

Julian beamed taking her face into both of his hands. “Oh, I’m so glad. As co-captain, can your first duty be to teach me an adjective other than ‘perfect’? I’m a doctor, not a novelist.”

“Sure. But only if you teach me one rather than ‘weird’,” Juli offered in reply.

“Good, good. But uh, can we wait until after dessert?”

“Didn’t Gerard ask you to save him some?”

“Oh, no. Gerry can starve. I’m sneaking dessert back into my room.”

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