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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 4

***Here we go! Okay. So a reminder to everyone to read SAFELY! Please make sure you check in with yourself and your mental well-being before, during and after the fic. Know your triggers, know your limits. Be careful, dears. ❤❤ Also just a HUGE thank you to everyone for supporting this series. I am so glad you've all loved it so much. It's been a process, but I'm glad you've stuck with me throughout it 😊***

Poly!MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don't know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Inside the Purgatory Hall was a sight that no one had seen since the end of the Great Celestial War. The seven Avatars of Sin sat defeated around a broken, bloodied body as they held on tightly to one another with tears running down their face.

They each held on to a part of you as they bowed their heads in despair for the damage done to you and regret for inadvertently causing it to happen. They sat in silence for the first twenty minutes, simply basking in the utter sorrow that filled the room, before Satan spoke up. "L-Lucifer?" He asked with a woeful tone. "How do we fix this? C-Cause I've read all the books a-and I don't know how we can make this better." If the severity of the situation wasn't already so obvious, that fact that Satan, of all people, was turning to Lucifer for advice made it glaringly so. And then it got even worse.

Lucifer, not even looking up at his brother, squeezed your hand and he pressed his forehead against it. His shoulders shook as sobs began to come from his mouth. "I-I don't know, Satan. I...I just don't know if we can." Seeing Lucifer crack was enough for the entire group. Soon they were all leaning on one another, sobbing as they mourned what their relationship with you once was and feared for what would come in the future. In the midst of the crying, Leviathan felt a small squeeze on the hand he was holding. He quickly looked over at you and tried shushing his brothers. "I think they're waking up!" Lucifer looked over at Asmodeus. "Go get Simeon and Solomon!" Knowing that now wasn't the time to argue, Asmo merely nodded before taking off. There was some movement behind your eyelids, and you squeezed Mammon's hand tighter, but still no words or opening of eyes. Belphie ran a hand through your hair from where your head was in his lap. "Come on, Angel," he whispered desperately, "open your eyes for me. Wake up." A small groan came from you as the door flew open and Solomon, Luke and Simeon rushed into the room.

"All of you out," Solomon ordered as he shoved Levi out of the way and took his place. All of the brothers instantly tensed in defence. They opened their mouths to argue, but Solomon raised a hand to silence them. "We don't have time to argue this. Considering the situation when MC last saw you, I don't want to risk stressing them more by them waking up being surrounded by the seven of you. You can wait outside. We will let you in again if, and only if, they want to see you. Now, go," his words were quick and heated, though the wizard wasn't even looking at them, too focused on you. Lucifer growled lowly, before shaking his head and turning away from the wizard. "I hate to admit, but they-" "When he said we don't have time, he meant we don't have time!" Luke snapped and pointed at the door. "Out! Now! You should be grateful we even let you see them for this long!" Satan's head snapped towards Luke at those words. All of the rage that had been lying dormant inside of him, suddenly washed over him as he went to charge at the small angel. Luke didn't so much as flinch, even as Beel restrained him and the demon began snarling and thrashing. He did, however, react as a whimper spilled from your lips and you turned you began to move restlessly. "I said out!" he picked up the closest item to him, a pillow, and threw it harshly at Lucifer. "Take your feral brothers and leave." Lucifer glared at the child but did as asked. With some not-so-mild complaints from the others, the lords left the room. Luke stomped over to the door and locked it shut behind them. Simeon replaced where Belphegore had been sitting, and placed your head in his lap gently, as he watched your eyes begin to softly flutter open.

*** Pain and shouting. That's all you could hear and feel. What was happening around you or what even happened to you, you couldn't recall. You wanted the noise to stop. You wanted the pain to go away. You tried to open your mouth to ask for as much, but all that came was a whimper. The shouting got worst, and the ringing in your head grew and grew until finally, a peaceful silence filled the room. It was now just you, the darkness, and the pain. Or so you thought until you felt someone place your head down on something soft. Mustering up what little strength you could pull from your body, you slowly blinked open your eyes. Blue eyes. At the sight of them, you instantly felt the panic that you hadn't even realized had built up, deflate within you. Blue eyes had saved you. Of that much, you were sure. You couldn't quite remember the details. But you knew that a person with blue eyes had saved you from something...something horrible. These blue eyes in particular were surrounded by warm brown skin and framed with dark hair; making you realize that this was not the person who saved you. Simeon

Your mind provided. His name is Simeon. Simeon smiled peacefully at you. "Hello, MC. It's lovely to see you with us again." You heard little footsteps rush across the room. When you looked over you found your true saviour, Luke, looking at you with a concerned, teary-eyed expression. "Are you in pain? Do you remember what happened? Simeon said that you hit your head pretty hard, but we wouldn't know the extent until you woke up. D-Do you remember me?" You chuckled, though the sound was dry and cracked from disuse and you nodded. "Of course, I remember you, Luke. You saved me," you croaked. At hearing your voice, Luke gasped and grabbed a glass of water from the side table. He handed it to you as a white-haired man, Solomon if you could recall, helped you sit up. "Th-That's good! That means you're okay! R-Right, Simeon?" Luke stuttered tearfully as glanced up at his superior. You weren't listening though. As they moved you into a seating position, you had suddenly become fully aware of something, or rather, your lack of something. "M-My...My leg," the room fell silent as you lean forward and brushed your fingers against the bandages. It all came flooding back to you. The fight. The demons. The complete and utter terror that filled your body. The excruciating pain as you believed that you were going to be eaten alive. You gasped and pulled back as though you had been burned. "Oh-Oh my god!" you choked out as you brought a trembling hand to cover your mouth as you stared at the space where your leg used to be. "Th-they- I almost- I-I think I'm going to be sick." Solomon's eyes widened as he quickly grabbed a nearby vase and placed it under your face. You gripped onto it tightly as you spilled your stomach contents inside it. Simeon whispered small words of comfort as he rubbed your back. "Let it out. You'll feel better afterwards. " You whimpered and passed the vase off to Solomon who set it aside. Your heart was racing in your chest as your thoughts travelled at a mile a minute. Your body trembled as a few cries slipped from your lips. You felt nothing and everything at once. What were you supposed to do? Simeon, Solomon and Luke were here, and you were so grateful for them. But they weren't who you wanted. They weren't who you needed. "The brothers-" You sobbed as you gripped onto the blanket that hardly maintained your modesty. "I-I want my boys. Please? A-Are they here? D-Do they know a-a-about...about-" Solomon gently squeezed your arm as you began to sob. "They know and they're here. They're a bit of a mess, but they're here," although his tone was soft, there was an edge of displeasure in it. "We know about the fight, so we thought we would give you the choice of whether or not you wanted to see them." You nodded your head weakly. "Bring them in." Luke whined and lightly pulled on your hand. "B-B-But MC! It's their fault you were out there! How could you possibly want to see them after all of that?" His eyes were wide with both desperation and confusion. He couldn't understand how you would want to see people who had caused you so much pain. He couldn't fathom why you would want to see the men who shared the same infernal species as your attackers. He didn't know why you would rather their hellish presence over his angelic comfort. But you did. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you answered. "I don't care what they did, right now. At the moment, all I care is that they're here, which means that they must have some level of concern for me. Right now all I want and need is my significant others to hold me and tell me that I'm going to be okay," you looked over at Simeon with water-lined eyes as you pleaded. "So can you please bring them to me. We'll sort the rest out later. Right now, I just want them by my side."

Simeon's lips parted in shock of your words and, for a moment, a flash of disappointment flickered across his eyes before it was quickly replaced with acceptance. The angel smiled gently at you before placing a kiss on the top of your head. "Of course, little lamb, I will fetch them right away." From your right, Solomon let out a heavy sigh as he squeezed your shoulder once more. Simeon merely had to unlock the door, before your lovers came tumbling into the room. They all rushed over to you, quickly blanketing you in hugs, kisses, and frantic apologies. While you were buried in the chaos, Simeon sadly smiled at the group before leading both Luke and Solomon out of the room. You shushed your boys and felt your heart warm at the feeling of being in their arms once more. "Apologies can come later," you began, causing Beel to whine in protest. "We have a lot to talk about, yes. B-But right now, I just want you guys to love me and hold me," your bottom lip began to tremble as you choked on your tears. "I-I know that I'm asking for your attention, once again. A-And I know that having to share me with each other is a-a-a lot but-" You were cut off by Mammon pulling you against his chest and burying his face in your hair. "I never should'a said any of that, treasure. I was wrong. S-So fuckin' wrong." Lucifer pressed a kiss to one of your inner palms before placing it on his cheek. "But, it's as you said. This is a conversation we'll have when you're ready. For now, will you allow us all to love you unconditionally, just as you deserve?" You could only nod, as sobs overtook you once more. You were held in every direction. Kissed on your wounds, as though the magic of your love could heal the damage that was done. Praised in the gentlest and most affectionate of whispered. Caressed with hands so careful and attentive, that you would think they were holding the world. And if you asked the lords, they were. Things weren't fixed, and they weren't perfect, but for the time being, you didn't need them to be. For now, you were all together. You were all loved, and you were all alive. And just for now, that was enough.

***There you have it, folks! That is A Pain You'll Soon Regret. I plan on writing an epilogue that will probably touch on the discussion they all need to have, MC getting their new leg, and potentially Diavolo? I haven't decided on him yet. The epilogue probably will be another couple of days, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this sob fest. Remember to take care of yourself and to be kind to one another. Love you all -B*** TAGLIST: @obey-mes-treasure, @holygarm, @sufzku, @rivera-tickles, @angelprotectress, @theother4, @ester-is-here, @bissshitsu, @drsquishysquich, @leviathan-is-a-pretty-name, @zxlaki, @mammons-wife, @letsblazewolf, @levislui, @gallantys,

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

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Each other’s replacements

▸ Na Jaemin x female!reader ▸ Inspired by the anime Scum’s Wish ▸ High school au, SMUUUUT, fluff and angst

Summary: Two broken hearts met unexpectedly and agreed to use each other so you can both move on from your exes. Your hearts belong to each other already, you’re just waiting for love to take place and make everything right. But will you both still choose each other in the future? Word count: 6,988k

Warnings: Using each other to forget your exes, ex Lee Jeno, kind of fuck buddies but no? Fingering, mentions of fingering, handjob, blowjob, and watching each other masturbate, mentions of taking nude photos after sex, Jaemin taking a picture of your naked body after sex (with consent ofc), uproctected sex, mentions of rough sex, making out, swearing, mentions of breakup, actual breakup

A/N: I hope you enjoy this Jaemin fic. I tried writing it as realistic as possible because I think Scum’s Wish is a very mature and realistic anime, I mean shit like that happens in real life. And I think Mugi is so fucking handsome. The ending of the series sux btw HAHAA bc I wanted them to end up together so heres my version of it.

It all happened so fast but the heartbreak stayed and the process of healing is very slow.

Three months have passed already when your ex-boyfriend Jeno broke up with you on a nice afternoon after school. The reason? Well, let’s just say he fell out of love. And that’s what made it worst because you remember that all you ever did was love him and please him.

Every day, you go to school, attend class, study hard but you always looked so gloomy. And whenever Jeno cross paths with you in the hallways, he knew he hurt you badly and that you’re not your normal self anymore. The cheerful and excited girl he fell in love with was gone and it’s all because of him. He can only wish that someone will bring you back and make you happy again.

“I’ll help you with that,” a cold manly voice interrupted you and your thoughts while you were having a hard time throwing the trash. He’s not part of your class, he’s one of Jeno’s classmates but you two were never introduced to each other.

You watch him throw the heavy trash for you and hoping that he will hand the bin afterward but he didn’t. “Lead the way, it’s dirty I’ll hold it for you” he insists, so you do as you’re told, showed him the way so you can finish this day as soon as possible.

Jaemin knew everything. It’s a small school and students usually gossip too much whenever a couple breaks up, especially after being together for so long. He knew who broke your heart, he also knew that you used to smile and be cheerful all the time because he has seen you in places and he knew you're capable of automatically lighting up the place whenever you’re around. But now… all he can see is a broken-hearted girl.

“Here,” you hand him a tissue and your hand sanitizer as a thank you for not letting your hands get dirty. He accepted it and gave you a small smile, obviously, he’s not shy and he was looking directly at you while his hands move. To be honest, you have no reason to be shy with each other, and honestly, you just don’t care anymore you just want to end this day. But Jaemin being the bold man that he is, bravely loosen up the ribbon of your school uniform and undid a few buttons from your school blouse. It was a common thing for students to do that after school as a sign that they're ready to head home and end their day. Jeno used to do it for you, and you didn’t expect Jaemin would do it. Despite the fact that you only met properly today.

You don’t know what happened but your heart was racing the moment he’s done adjust it and you just stare at his crooked tie and figured you may as well loosen it up for him too and return the favor. A bold move that Jaemin did not expect from a girl because he’s used to being with girls who become shy and all flustered after he makes a move.

But you, you’re different.

And that’s when Jaemin realized that you are a perfect match for him.

Word is Na Jaemin is pretty popular with girls. Besides Lee Jeno your ex, Na Jaemin is the second most handsome guy in school. Not only that he’s handsome, but you also know that he is passionate when it comes to photography, he’s naturally smart, not that nice, quiet but cocky, cold but can give anyone the right amount of attention if he wants to. But in your case, you have his full attention.

That afternoon, for the first time in three months, you did not go home alone, someone walked with you and watched you go inside your house.

The same cold but needed interaction with Jaemin happened over and over again until people started to gossip and think that you’re together. But it was nothing like that and you stopped caring about rumors a long time ago. Jaemin is nothing like Jeno, but he’s a gentleman, he’s straightforward but most of the time quiet. And most of the time you share silence not stories and you both love it that way.

You were different people but before you knew it, you were spending more time with each other.

On Valentine's day, you don’t know what came to his mind and brought you a bouquet of roses and gave it to you secretly. You were genuinely happy of course, but you just couldn’t smile that big and show him more. Seeing him from afar with a dozen roses and a smirk, with his black sling bag he uses for school that makes him so attractive… is enough to call your Valentine's day a memorable day.

“You’re special too,” he said and hands you the bouquet. “Ready to go home? Sorry I couldn’t help you with trash today, I picked these up right after school and rushed back-“

“Thank you” you cut him off with a friendly kiss on the cheek that made him blush and shy for the first time.

With a bouquet of roses on your left arm and the trash bin on your right hand, you came back to your classroom to get your stuff and put the bin back. You cleaned your hands and admire the roses as the afternoon sunlight hits them perfectly and finally come out again to meet Jaemin. Only to find him eavesdropping on the classroom near yours.

“What-“

“Shh” he cut you off with a ‘shh’ gesture and made you look at the half-closed door and made you listen to their conversation as well.

Jeno I like you too.

Were words that immediately ruined your day that Jaemin perfected. But this is not about you. Because when you turned your back and looked at the man beside you, you saw yourself. The pain that you’ve been feeling for months now, you saw it in Jaemin’s eyes too. Now you understand that you’re just two broken people who are still in pain. And you have no idea that he has been hurting too.

Of course, seeing Jeno with another girl hurt you badly, but seeing Jaemin get teary-eyed bothered you more. So you reached for his hand and whispered, ‘it’s okay’ even though it’s not, and walked away silently with him to continue your day together.

“Do you think they’re just doing this because people are gossiping about us?” you asked while you watch him stare at his coffee blankly. You’ve never seen him like this even though he’s always quiet and cold.

“N-no. I know my ex, uhm… she wouldn’t use anyone. Is Jeno-“

“No. I know him too. And I know that he’s happy when he found out about us,”

“So it’s true then. Their feelings for each other” he said and went back to staring at his coffee blankly.

You pursed your lips and let out a deep sigh. Allowing yourself to be hurt again by hearing the truth that you have been completely replaced in Jeno’s heart. There was silence. Then you decided to admire the flowers that Jaemin gave to you and feel the soft petals on your fingertips. This day could have been a turning page for the both of you, but now you’re both very sure that you’re not yet ready to open your hearts for somebody else.

“Red roses mean love and romance,” you said as you continue to admire the roses that he gave which made him smile a little. “Do you like me?” and just like that, you gave him the question that you’ve been meaning to ask for the past few months.

“I do” he answered without hesitating, which gave you a shock actually. “Do you?” he returned the question.

“I don’t,” you said the truth because you can’t repay him with lies. No. You can’t do that to Jaemin, “but you’ve become special to me. And I don’t want to lose you too,” Honestly you thought being honest to him will make him feel even more horrible but it didn’t. In fact, it brought the unique handsome smile you love seeing on his face.

“Though, it’s not right that we are using each other to forget our exes-“ you added but he cut you off immediately.

“But I need you, and honestly I’ve been very happy these past few weeks because of you” he confessed. And you wish that you could tell him the same thing but you can’t because it’s still Jeno. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not begging you to stay. You’re an adult and I have nothing against your decisions. But I really hope we could go back to normal and be closer now that we know what each other really feels. I will date you properly when the right time comes… Just not now that we're both still confused and not sure”

Everything did not make sense of course, and the right thing to do is refuse. But the past few weeks were actually good. Not great but still Jaemin was a huge change. So you nod your head and agreed that you should continue what you’re doing but promised each other that if either one of you feels pressured already, then you should stop.

As you continue seeing Jaemin and trying to move on from Jeno, you became comfortable with each other as days go by to the point that neither one of you cares if someone mentions that you look great together even though your relationship is not true.

It was a never-ending try to give each other the chance and love that you deserve. But at the same time, it was a never-ending process of healing from your exes, a never-ending heartbreak whenever you two hear something good about their relationship. And to be honest you’re both happy that you’re not facing this heartbreak alone.

You’re thankful for each other because you have each other’s backs. But in a different way.

Jaemin is thankful for you because he can hold your hand, hug you tightly from behind then whisper sweet words, and kiss your neck, whenever he wants to, and whenever he misses skinship with his ex.

You on the other hand, is thankful too because he does these various things to you and you can just close your eyes and he lets you imagine that he’s Jeno. Like now. You were just cuddling and watching the rain from his window when suddenly his hand roamed under your skirt while he was listening to you talk, and his cold fingers played on the hem of your panties. Teasing your pussy and moving his fingers up and down your wet cover slit.

“How does Jeno touch you? Is gentle? Rough?” He asks in the sexiest tone he ever used and started kissing your neck. You had a hard time answering his question because of what he’s doing, but your mind lurks on the memories you had with Jeno in his room.

You remember how Jeno fingered you in his bed, how two fingers always feel good and that’s how you like it, you remember that while his fingers are deep inside you, he is busy kissing your body. Planting soft kisses on your chest and on your boobs, kissing your nipples and making them sensitive and he puts them in his mouth and sucks it good until it's both swollen.

This is the first time Jaemin had touched you down there. And you swear, you don’t want him to stop and you just want to remove your panties and spread your legs for him.

“Jaem-“ you moaned out an airy tone. Calling his name with your eyes closed and parted lips. Feeling his fingers go up and down your wet slit still.

“Do you mean Jeno?” Jaemin asks. But truth be told he doesn’t mind you moaning his name instead on your first time going too far. And finally, he removed your panties and made you spread your legs for him which you gladly did. Putting two fingers slowly while he’s watching you make the sexiest faces that just simply makes him hard.

Jaemin never rushed, he took his sweet time with your body. Pushing you on the edge over and over again but you don’t know why you haven’t cum yet. His tongue and fingers together were somewhat calming and just made you breathe in and out deeply, which is relaxing while you spread your legs even more.

And when you finally came, it was a nice warm feeling all over your body. Like you just got out of the shower, wet and relaxed. Though you feel so tired, weak and sleepy... Jeno was never like this but your imagination was a big help that you moaned Jeno’s name a couple of times and that made Jaemin felt so accomplished.

“How about you? Don’t you want to cum?” you asked Jaemin while you watch him help you wear your panties again, kissing your thighs after.

“Maybe later,” he said, not admitting that he came earlier too, ruining his boxers briefs.

That day you did more than touching each other’s private parts but actually giving each other oral sex for the first time. His sheets were so ruined because he came so hard when you gave him a blowjob, a handjob and when he jerked himself in front of you while he watches you finger yourself. In return, he made you cum more than three times using his fingers and tongue. And you came home with a weak body and weak legs that you flopped straight in your bed and slept with a smile.

But there are times that it’s just the two of you. Just Jaemin and Y/n, no exes involved. Where you can be free being yourselves whenever you’re alone together. Like him snapping pictures of you out of nowhere while you’re busy kissing him, or whenever you just finished having sex and you’re both too lazy to get dressed again and he will suddenly capture amazing photos of you while you’re still naked in his bed, wearing nothing but the smile he gave you because of the sex.

“Hmm. Jaemin, these are beautiful. Can I have this one? I love seeing your works, it’s like I’m seeing myself through your eyes”

Little did you know that that simple compliment from you made him blush hard and his heart jump. It’s not every day he gets to be himself, but lately, he has been feeling so inspired with his craft and he had a good guess it’s because of you.

“You can keep this too, it’s one of my favorites,” he said and handed you a picture of you kissing him while he smiles so big and so handsome with both of your eyes closed. It’s a perfect moment, a moment that Jaemin captured in the middle of him being so happy that you’re showering him with kisses.

Jaemin is sweet and quiet as usual and he showers you with love and affection every day in his own way. He’s not the normal guy who will praise you and tell you that you’re beautiful, he will just simply look at you like you’re his favorite person in the world. Which you are now. He doesn’t talk too much because one, that’s his personality already and two, he simply loves listening to you even though you don’t talk too much yourself.

He is the complete opposite of Jeno, and that’s why he became special to you.

“Yesterday, me and my mom were at the mall and I saw them. Just from afar and they were about to enter the movies and… you know, seeing them together hurt” he says while kicking stones on your way to your house.

You can only imagine the pain he felt when he saw them spending time together, and now it’s your time to get hurt because Jeno used to bring you to the movies. Then it gave you an idea.

“Do you want to go to the movies tomorrow? My treat,” you said. Nervous and shy you slowly met eyes and stopped walking when you finally arrived in front of your house.

“Did you just realized that I haven’t taken you out on a date? Because I feel bad, I just realized it now” he rambles.

“No no,” you chuckled, “I simply wanted to go to the movies with you. So tomorrow?” you were slowly walking away from him with a small smile on your face. If Jaemin was being honest, he wanted to be with you just a little bit longer. But parting will make your meeting even sweeter the next day.

On the next day, you remember clearly that you said ‘my treat’ yesterday. But the whole day that you’re together he never let you pay for anything, not even a bottle of water. You feel at ease even though it’s your first date and it’s your first time seeing each other in casual clothes and not in your uniforms, or wearing nothing at all. He looked handsome in his get up, he knows how to dress and he sure does look like the warm person you know.

“Do you like anything else?” he whispered beside you while you two wait for the movie to start and watch people enter.

“No I’m just a little chilly. But I’m fine, keep your jacket,” you stopped him before he removes his jacket, you know he will. So instead of lending you his jacket, he kept you close and wrapped an arm around you.

“This is nice, right?” he whispered back and rested his head on yours.

During the movie, Jaemin did not try any funny business. Though you were waiting for it and of course you will give him your consent. If this was Jeno, by this time you’re whimpering and cumming on his fingers by now. But you’re with Jaemin right now, and Jaemin did nothing but hold your hand, keep you close and keep you warm. And the thing that he did that made your heart race the most, was when he tightens his embrace when the couple kissed in the movie, exchanged ‘i love yous’ and he pulled you closer to him. “We’ll get there,” he whispered, “Just remember that I’m the one here and not Jeno” and you nod because you agree to him.

Not long after your first date, you and Jaemin shared a kiss under a lamppost just before you enter your house. It was not your first kiss of course. But it was the first time that you two felt that there we're no lust involved. It was a genuine kiss. A kiss that told you ‘I’m glad you chose to stay in this stupid relationship we have’ not to mention his soft lips were addicting and he was gentle the whole time. He wasn’t rushing you, he wasn’t hungry for you. But you can feel his long to finally move on and give his love wholly to you.

“Is it okay if I kiss you like that every day from now on?” he asked softly, forehead to forehead and just enjoying the cold breeze of the evening and the quietness of the street.

It’s Jaemin, not Jeno. You remind yourself over and over again.

“Yes” you nod and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Kiss me again” you requested. And so Jaemin did, even deeper but this time he took your breath away during the kiss.

The moment you closed the door and Jaemin watched you go inside your house safely, you burst into tears because you can’t help but see Jeno in your head and imagine that it’s Jeno kissing you not Jaemin. Even though it felt nothing like Jeno’s kisses, even though you smell Jaemin’s unique cologne, still it’s Jeno whom you see in your head and it’s Jeno whom you really wanted to kiss.

Days passed by and you try a little harder to show him affection, you try a little harder to be with Jaemin and not think about your ex, you try saying Jaemin’s name more often. Calling him with a smile, surprising him with back hugs, smiling with him more. Honestly, you just want to help yourself with forgetting Jeno completely because it’s exhausting already.

Today is the school’s fair and you’ve been with your friends the whole day laughing and discussing boys over snacks, sex and other stuff. And while you and your friends have been participating in a lot of games today, Jaemin can’t stop taking pictures of you from afar and watch your pretty smile. The smile he’s been seeing a lot lately and he hopes that it’s because of him.

‘Hey beautiful, I like your smile’

You received a text from him, you look around where he is and you found him behind you. Smiling so handsomely with his camera slung on his shoulder. Your friends teased you and Jaemin for being all flirty with your glances, you have never been shy around him but now there are butterflies in your stomach. Jaemin then shamelessly showed your friends how he treats you nicely, he can’t kiss you inside the school grounds so he winked at you instead and smiled.

It definitely made everyone around you jealous. Especially when Jaemin started taking your pictures, something no one was ever seen Jaemin do.

At the end of the day, you and Jaemin walk hand in hand and went to his house to cuddle and flirt more in his bed. Hands intertwined, legs tangled, bodies closer and just listening to each other talk about the most random things.

That’s right, you and Jaemin now talk. No more comfortable silence, no more quiet walks, you’ve come so far to reach this level of comfort. And when you’re both comfortable in each other’s arms like this, you both never shut up about the things you want to share with each other. Like the comfortable silence was gone with your awkward and shy phase too.

You asked him how he used to love his ex and he never shuts up about it, and it is as if he was describing how he’s treating you but when it comes to you everything was better. Like how he used to not care about Valentines for his ex but for you he went to different kinds of flower shop just so he can find the best quality of red roses. He used to hate walking with his ex because it’s making him sweat like crazy, but when it comes to you, seeing and watching you go inside your home safely was satisfying.

“Jaemin what are we? Are we friends with benefits now? Or just friends?” you dropped the question out of nowhere while you two lie in your bed, and you play with his long and perfect eyelashes.

“Hmm. No, fuck buddies avoid feelings while we... well, we try to develop our feelings. Let’s say we're two waiting hearts, were not yet in love with each other but… we belong to each other already. How’s that sound?”

“Waiting hearts. Hmm. I like it. Did you made that up?” you giggle and ran your fingertips on his very soft lips, which made him catch your hand and kiss it before he opens his beautiful eyes again.

“Yeah” he says, “But everything I said was true. Moving on is a bitch and I just can’t wait to love you right,”

And those words were just right. Perfect actually, that it made you kiss him sweetly and sincerely. And with your lips and the way you kiss, Jaemin felt that you made a promise to him. Like you’re not going to make him wait for nothing. And because of that he deepens the kiss and went on top of you, placing his body in between your legs, kissing your body nonstop and whispering sweet things to you.

“When we're finally and officially together, I won’t hurt you as Jeno did,” and you believe him because even though that you’re a wreck now, Jaemin stayed and put up with you.

He suddenly stopped kissing you, letting you breathe and bask at this moment, then he swallowed the lump in his throat and told you the truth. “I’m finally getting there…by the way, I mean, all I think about is us-you,” he was talking about his progress of moving on. “You don’t have to be pressured or anything at this point just, focus on yourself. Okay?” he said and kissed you again.

As your days with Jaemin continues, you don’t see Jeno anymore whenever you’re with Jaemin. No more imagining, it’s just you, the moment, and Jaemin. Though you’re not sure if you’ve already moved on this time or you’re just too overwhelmed because of Jaemin. Still, you know to yourself that you’re getting there and Jaemin is the reason why you’re even more closer to peace now. But you haven’t told him yet because you’re not ready. For you, you know that he will not leave and so it’s okay to take your time.

It started when you realized everything that he has done for you and the things that he’s ready to do for you. Loving again, or being given the opportunity to love someone again so deep is something so special and exciting especially when the man who holds your heart and the one waiting for you right now is Jaemin. The life you’re taking before Jaemin was like a black tunnel that you’ve been walking around in circles for some time now. And you sure as hell don’t want to take that path again.

And just thinking about experiencing the things that Jaemin has to offer, you can only do that if you give up on Jeno. So with great effort, you slowly focus your mind only on Jaemin and replace every bit of Jeno in your life with Jaemin, and from now on you make sure that you have something in return for him.

“Jaemin-“ you moan his name. Something so new and so satisfying for Jaemin to hear it's his name you moan now, not Jeno’s.

“You know, you make me shy whenever you say my name” he catches his breath and came closer to you to plant kisses on your back and knead your boobs from behind, nipples hard and swollen because you’ve been in bed with him for almost two hours now. “What do you need?” he asks while making you feel good with his lips and hands.

“Maybe slow down? I’m not going anywhere,” you hear him giggle from behind because of your request, slapping your but playfully and squeezing it good. Then suddenly, out of nowhere he rolled his hips, and let out a sexy grunt. “Fuck Jaemin, I wasn’t ready-“ you croak and landed on the mattress, face first as you grip the sheets and take Jaemin’s cock followed by a wave of hard and fast thrusts.

He kept a firm grip on your waist as he gives you hard thrusts and he kept you down on the mattress, a hand on your waist and a hand on your nape. It kept your movements minimal that’s why you can’t do anything now that you’re on the edge and he’s torturing you using his dick. But the best part of Jaemin fucking you from behind is the way he fucks you rough... so rough sometimes that you get red marks after a good round. This only happens whenever he catches his breath, but sometimes his thrusts become slow and deeper and honestly you feel like he’s rearranging your insides. And of course you love it whenever he’s just so fast and the sound of skin slapping surrounds his room and the impact of his thrust just drags you on the mattress, almost at the edge of the bed and he would have to drag your body towards him and fuck you faster and harder.

But this time, your pussy is so sensitive and your body is giving up and shivering already that you try and push him away, moan his name for mercy, grip his sheets while you arch your back so beautifully to ease your sensitivity.

“You said you’re not going anywhere? Why are you running away from me? Huh?” it was a sexy tone and his thrusts started to go slow but deeper than before and he had spread your legs again from behind. His arm is around your neck and ends at your shoulder, bodies closer than ever as he puts his whole weight on you and you feel his hard rock abs hits your back. Then he started thrusting hard again but now you can’t move your body because he got you locked in his arms, and instead of gripping the sheets, you now grip Jaemin’s arm and hands as you don’t have a choice but to accept his hard thrust.

Thrust after thrust, you breathe heavily and let out groans and call out his name. Until your body can’t take it anymore and you’re shaking uncontrollably and you did everything you can to push him away and try curling yourself into a ball but Jaemin was quick to flip you on your back and reach in for a deep kiss.

Kissing you while you cum and enjoy your orgasm. Feeling his tongue swirl around your as your body shakes and his hands caress your thighs so you could calm down and melt on his kiss.

After you cum, you and Jaemin did not stop kissing. He stayed above you, in between your legs and proceed to make out. Slowly and passionately, hands roaming to appreciate each other’s body, hands together and your lips locks and you look at each other with deep admiration.

“I want to date for real now. I’m so afraid to lose you Y/n,” he said directly into your eyes and rested his forehead on yours. “I promise I can do more for you, just be mine completely” he reached for your hands and kissed your knuckles.

Finally, you thought. And to be honest you have so much to say but none came out from your mouth. You looked at his tired sex face, his hair is all over his face, sweaty and his lips are swollen because of your intense kisses. And because your heart is full of happiness right now, you just nod so fast and cup his face and attacked him with kisses.

A love for love.

The first few days with Jaemin were beautiful. You both have your hearts full of love admiration towards one another and you shower each other with love every day without having second thoughts. You have never been loved like this and you didn’t know that you can love someone as deeply.

In just a few days, lust and love were perfectly balanced in your relationship. Now that you’re officially together, you and Jaemin would rather talk non-stop while holding hands, laugh and laugh until you’re both in tears, rather than have sex and exhaust each other out. But of course, now that you’re together, you can finally have the right to stay the night at their house, meet his family, have quiet sex at night where Jaemin’s lips are on your lips, catching every sound and moan you make so his parents won’t suspect.

“I love you,” you said and kissed him before you close your eyes and drift away. In return, he tightens his embrace and kissed you one too many times.

“I love you too,”

Now that you and Jaemin are official, he wanted to do everything again with you. Meaning, he wanted to give you flowers again as your boyfriend this time and not just as someone who’s waiting for you. He wanted to take you out on a proper date as your boyfriend, on your favorite fast food and spend all night long being happy with you.

SUNDAY

At first, you didn’t want to agree with his plan because him giving you all his love every day was enough. But he insists, and that’s why you’re waiting for your handsome boyfriend at your favorite fast food with a glass of water in front of you. He’s 30 minutes late already and you wonder why.

“I’ll get the red ones please, my girlfriend loved those last Valentine's day,” Jaemin’s smile was so big as he watches the florist wrap the red roses he got for you. He’s late because he went to the same shop where he bought you the flowers that you loved last Valentine's day.

And just as Jaemin walks out of the flower shop with a bouquet of red roses in his arm and a smile on his face, he thought about how this night will definitely be a great night for the two of you. And most importantly, no exes to ruin your first date as a couple.

While you were waiting for Jaemin inside, you didn’t know that he’s outside with a dozen roses in his arm and just smiling because he is now looking at the girl whom he loves the most.

Then suddenly, his phone rang and accepted an unexpected phone call. The voice of the girl on the other line was familiar. Very familiar. And his fist balled up immediately when he heard her crying through the phone. Turns out, he still can’t say no to the girl he used to love so much and his excitement on seeing you was immediately replaced with anger.

“Who made you cry? Where are you?” Jaemin asked sternly to his ex.

“He left me Jaems- I’m sorry I don’t know who else to call, I’m at home can you please go here? I really need someone right now, I’ll lose my mind,”

And just like that, he chose his ex over you. He told himself, he will be quick and still meet you afterward. But you waited for an hour… until closing time. Leaving tons and tons of messages to Jaemin but he didn’t return any of them. Maybe something important came up? A family matter? You tried and tried to forgive him even though you’re pissed that he didn’t show up. You even reminded yourself that you didn’t want this date in the first place so why be upset? So it’s okay.

When you’re finally near your house after a very disappointing date that could have been a beautiful one for you and Jaemin, a very familiar figure was waiting for you outside your house.

One glance at that perfect face, small crescent eyes, and beautiful smile, gave your mind an instant flashback. The guy who loved you first way before Jaemin came into your life, the man who loved you in your highs and lowest moment, the man you’ve been waiting to come back…. is finally back.

“How are you?” he started.

“Better. Jeno, what are you doing here?” you asked, straight to the point.

“I just came by to see you. I’m the one who ruined us but I still miss you from time to time you know? And now I know why,”

“And that is?”

“Regrets. Now that I’m single again, for sure my regrets will even weigh more,” he let out a heavy sigh and looked at his shoes before he gave you a question. A question that he already knows the answer. “If I ask you to come back, will you accept it?” he didn’t look you in the eye. He just stared at the sky and waited for your answer.

“No,” you said honestly and without regrets. “I waited for you to come back long enough. And I worked so hard to be healed again,”

“Then I should’ve asked you earlier then. I should’ve left her earlier,”

What he said sounded wrong for you. Because you know if he did those earlier you will end up hurting Jaemin instead. At least now, it’s clear like the sky above that you no longer love Jeno.

The night ended with a friendly hug. It’s the only comfort you can offer to him because you respect your boyfriend. And you well know that staying longer with Jeno tonight can spark your first fight with Jaemin.

But as you lie in your bed and think about everything that happened tonight, your mind takes you to unwanted scenarios where Jaemin chose to comfort his ex rather than meeting up with you. It’s not right to doubt Jaemin, so you close your eyes and looked forward to the next day.

And just as you thought, you’re going to wake up with a bunch of missed calls or texts from Jaemin, you have none. So there is something wrong.

Jaemin on the other hand is staring at a white ceiling and thinking about the things that he can’t take back right now. It’s too early for regrets but he doesn’t have a choice but to rethink his wrong decisions, over and over again. Starting when he answered the phone call from the naked girl beside him right now. The wrong decisions he made last night was the epitome of the phrase, ‘one thing led to another’

He answered the call and stood you up.

He went to his ex’s house.

He returned the kiss.

He agreed to fuck.

It was all his choice. Wrong choices that made him lose and lost you way before your relationship could have bloomed beautifully. And he can’t take that back because he can't show his face to you anymore for the sexual activity that happened last night between him and his ex, somehow brought them back together.

SUNDAY

It all happened so fast but the heartbreak stayed and the process of healing is very slow.

Seven days have passed already when Jaemin stood you up on a date to choose his ex over you. The reason? Well, you don’t know because you and Jaemin did not talk it out… the breakup sort of happened automatically when you saw him and his now girlfriend again, holding hands while entering the school grounds on a cold Monday morning. And that’s what made it worst because you remember that all you ever did was love him and be better to make way for the love you thought you both want.

Every day, you go to school, attend class, study hard but you always looked so gloomy. Again. And whenever Jaemin crosses paths with you in the hallways, he knew he hurt you badly and that he broke every promise he told you. He can only wish that he could turn back time and choose to not answer that fucking call.

Just like that, you’re back in that black tunnel and you didn’t expect that Jaemin will be the reason why you’re back on this dark path again. And this time, the heartbreak was ten times even worst than what you felt during your breakup with Jeno.

A few more weeks after the breakup, you started being alone with yourself again and try to give your heart a break from all the drama.

But one fateful afternoon, when everyone had gone home already and you’re on trash duty again, as usual, Jaemin finally decided to swallow his pride and say the apology you deserve.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” Jaemin said out of nowhere. He was looking straight into your eyes when he said it, and you can see that he’s sincere through his eyes.

“I hope you’re happy” and that's all you can say and try to walk away.

“I’m not- do you still love me?”

It was a question that broke both of your hearts because you both know that even though love is involved, it’s still not enough to keep you together.

But still, you answered him with all honesty. “Yes” short and simple.

“Then let's be together-“ he proposed with hopeful eyes.

“And what? Cheat?” you ask sternly, he nodded. “One of the reasons why I liked you back then is because you’re not complicated. You’re a simple ‘yes’ and ‘no’, but now you’re the one who complicates things. I’m sorry. It’s a no,” and that is an answer Jaemin did not expect from you because he thought you loved him that much that you’re still going to accept him. But maybe, the pain that he’s feeling right now, is the same pain that you felt when he chose his ex over you that night.

As days, months, and seasons change but of course the heartbreak never left, you focus more on being with yourself until finally you survived this school year and today is your last day in school. But before everything ended, a lot has happened before it finally ended, like Jeno suddenly transferring schools, Jaemin is single again, and you were awarded for ranking #3 out of hundreds of other students studying their asses off.

That same afternoon, while you’re fixing your stuff and ready yourself to go home under the pouring rain, Jaemin found you alone in your classroom again. And it felt like you’re meeting again for the first time. You don’t know why you accepted his help, you don’t know why you let him walk you home under his small umbrella that made you walk closely together.

He was quiet. You were quiet. But it was not the comfortable silence you used to have, it was very awkward. But you both endured it because if you’re both going to be honest with your feelings, you both wanted this.

“Are we going to do this again?” you ask before you enter your house.

“Yes. The right way,”

And you know you both found your way back to each other because it’s the right thing to do.

826 notes · View notes

pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Michael couldn’t feel his fingers. Whether that was because of the restraints on his wrists, keeping him pinned to the steel chair, or the yellow pollen Mr. Jones kept pumping into him, he didn’t know and didn’t care.

“They’re sure taking their time,” Max’s evil twin muttered as he paced. Michael looked to his right where Max, restrained and pale, was looking over at Michael’s left where Isobel sat with concern. Isobel, on the other hand, was just glaring at Mr. Jones, the dark circles around her eyes prominent.

“Who’re we supposed to be waiting for?” she demanded. She might’ve sounded a lot more threatening if she didn’t look like she was about to throw up. “Got more psycho friends?”

Michael scoffed, feeling nauseous himself. “Probably Project Shepherd soldiers.”

Mr. Jones stopped and eyed Michael with amusement. “Soldiers. That’s an interesting way to put it. Is that what you call Alex to his face?”

Michael’s heart jumped into his throat despite the heavy thudding. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Max and Isobel’s expressions turn wary, too, but Mr. Jones only smiled like he was glad they had understood.

But it couldn’t be. Alex had told Michael that he would be with Liz at the lab today, helping her with research. Michael had never told him where he was or what he was planning to do, afraid that Alex would insist on coming along to protect him.

“Alex doesn’t know I’m here,” Michael said, the threat evident to his own ears.

“None of them do,” Max thundered.

“Oh,” he tutted, “you underestimate your friends. ‘Specially Manes. That man is clever.”

And Mr. Jones reached into Max’s pocket and pulled out his phone despite Max fighting against his restraints. He touched the screen and the small thing came to life.

“And early!” he smiled. Michael opened his mouth to demand to know what he was planning when he turned the phone to show them.

For a moment, there was nothing but various corners of the caves, dark and empty. Then, to Michael’s horror, Alex came into view. He was alone, his gun up and aimed, ready for an attack.

Michael sat up with a gasp, trembling. Mr. Jones was still watching the footage, smiling. “Y’know how I know this Manes is different from the others? When he found out you were in danger, Michael,” he laughed, “well, he just came running! Which is not an easy feat for someone like him. Get it? ‘Cause he has no leg.”

“Don’t,” Michael breathed, knowing the words sounded like a plea and not caring as he followed Alex on the screen with his eyes. “Don’t touch him, don’t – don’t hurt him.”

Mr. Jones tilted his head at Michael. “You sound scared, brother.”

“Please,” Max said through grit teeth, his veins popping as he fought against the chair. “Please, he has nothing to do with this.”

“Just let him go,” Isobel tried, her wide eyes glancing between Alex on the screen and Mr. Jones. “Please.”

He hummed, taking in their fear, their panic, like refreshing air. “See,” he said serenely, “I wish I could help you. I really wish he had nothing to do with this.” His eyes darkened and his smile tightened. “But that airman has been a thorn in my side since the beginning, and I’m afraid . . . he’s a little too clever for his own good.”

“No,” Michael shook his head, his eyes burning. “Please!”

“So –”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Mr. Jones put a hand on the cave wall, and his smile widened. “I’m getting rid of the threat.”

The cave suddenly shook all around them and the siblings’ chairs threatened to topple over, but Michael’s wide, terrified eyes stayed on Alex.

Alex looked around, screamed something incoherent, and the ceiling collapsed.

“NO!” Michael screamed. The screen turned to black for one second, two, three . . .

“Alex,” Michael murmured, every nerve on edge. “Alex . . .”

The screen came back on, and Michael’s world stilled. There, buried under the rocks, was an arm in a pool of blood. Michael couldn’t even see the rest of his airman.

He heard one sharp exhale escape his lips, the rest of his body numb. He was sure his heart was racing, but he felt outside of himself, watching the scene play out before him like the worst nightmare. Because that’s what this was, it was what it had to be. A nightmare. Alex, his Alex, couldn’t be . . . he couldn’t be . . .

Mr. Jones tossed the phone back onto a stunned Max’s lap, Isobel’s eyes filling with tears. He said something about how much easier that was than he thought it’d be, but Michael couldn’t hear him. His jaw clenched so tightly he tasted blood, but he didn’t care.

Alex . . . Alex . . .

The man who’d offered him a safe place after Michael had stolen his guitar, who smiled at him like he thought he was cute, never caring that he lived in his truck and had no family or money, who came back to Michael again and again, hoping for a confession that never came. Michael never told him how much he loved him, how much he wanted him. He never told him that he would’ve stayed for him.

His siblings were trying to call for him, but they sounded like they were underwater.

Alex . . . Alex . . .

Michael screamed, and the cavern shook. Mr. Jones’s smile fell away as he grabbed the wall to keep steady.

“That’s not possible,” he said. “You have the pollen, your powers aren’t supposed to –”

Michael didn’t listen, didn’t care. He had to get out of these restraints, to dig Alex out of the rubble. He was alive, he had to be. But in the end, the pollen he’d been injected with was too much. In the end, Michael couldn’t do more than make the cave shake before the yellow pollen he’d been injected with started to overwhelm him. In the end, when it mattered most, he failed the love of his life.

He hunched over, heaving. A tear fell down the bridge of his nose as his eyes burned, his muscles felt like fire, his bones like lead.

“Alex . . .” he breathed.

Mr. Jones’s grabbed his curls by the roots and roughly yanked his head up. Michael heard Isobel scream and Max curse at Mr. Jones to let his brother go, but Michael was in a haze. He would never see Alex driving into the junkyard again, never see Alex’s smile again, never see Alex’s dark eyes or hear his beautiful voice or touch his soft, warm skin.

“How’d you do that?” Mr. Jones growled viciously in his face. “Your powers shouldn’t have worked at all. HOW’D YOU DO THAT?!”

Suddenly, Mr. Jones screamed, stumbling back. Michael’s eyes, dazed and blurry, looked up to find Alex towering over the psychotic alien, a syringe in hand. Another had already been jabbed into Mr. Jones’s neck.

“A-Alex!” Isobel gasped.

“Liz!” Max called, and Michael vaguely noticed that Liz had run up to Max, undoing his restraints.

But he couldn’t focus on her. Because there he was, his Alex, sticking the other syringe into Mr. Jones’s arm. Mr. Jones flinched violently, his eyes on Alex full of shock and hate as he collapsed. Alex waited to watch him pass out from the pain before he crouched in front of Michael, his hands gentle as he quickly undid the restraints on his ankles and wrists.

Up close, Michael saw that Alex’s jaw, cheeks, lips, and hands were cut into by the rocks, some leaking trails of blood that Alex didn’t seem to notice.

“Alex . . .” he murmured.

“You were supposed to wait!” Liz said to him.

“He was hurting Michael,” Alex said darkly, no remorse or hesitation in his eyes at what he’d done.

“B-But,” Isobel stammered, her teary eyes on Alex, “we – we saw you, your arm –”

“We got a text from Michael’s phone that you guys were here,” Liz explained, “but Alex knew it was a trap right away.”

“You said you needed me,” Alex scoffed as he managed to free Michael’s legs. “Like you would ever admit that.”

“It was his plan,” Liz continued, “all of it. He told me to stay in the shadows while he walked out into the open, and he kept the prosthetic arm and a bag of blood under his jacket.”

“No other way to kill me in a cave than a collapse,” Alex muttered. “It was common sense.”

“And you saw the camera,” Max finished, staring at Liz with narrowed eyes, as if trying to properly see her through all the pollen in his system. “So you hid Alex while he left the decoy.”

Alex nodded, undoing one of Michael’s wrists. They both worked on the last one. “We got here just when the cave started to shake again. It was a little startling, but – ah!”

Alex’s words were cut off as Michael had roughly undone the last restraint and tackled him, clawing up the airman’s chest and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, pushing one hand roughly into Alex’s hair, his other running down his back. Tears kept falling down his cheeks and onto Alex’s jacket, but he couldn’t and didn’t care to stop them. “You’re okay.”

The rocky terrain must’ve been hell on Alex’s legs, especially with Michael basically adding on his own weight, but Michael couldn’t pull away.

“I – I thought,” he trembled, holding Alex painfully tight. “Alex. My Alex.”

Alex’s hands came to slowly rest on Michael’s back, his touch more hesitant, as if too surprised to do anything more. Michael clenched his jaw, and cried against Alex’s neck, “Please hold me, baby, please.”

He heard Alex’s soft gasp against his ear, and he hugged Michael back just as tightly. “I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sorry, I – I had to do it, to make him think he’d won. I’m sorry, Guerin. I’m okay.”

Michael buried his face in the crook of Alex’s neck and could not let him go. His vanilla scent was faint but real under the damp stone and metallic smell of blood.

Michael pulled back just enough to hold Alex’s face, using his thumb to brush away a drop of blood that had been making its way down Alex’s cheek, mixing with an escaped tear.

“I’ll patch you up,” he said. “I’ll never let anything hurt you again.”

Alex huffed a weary chuckle. “You’re the one whose been injected with pollen. How about we patch you up first?”

“No,” Michael said immediately, stubbornly, refusing to let go of Alex for a single second. “You’re more important.”

Alex blinked, startled, and shook his head. He pulled Michael in again, and Michael allowed himself to sigh with relief against him. He had the airman’s chest against his own, his racing heart, his warm skin, his beautiful lips.

Max and Isobel and Liz were moving around them, trying to figure out how to carry Mr. Jones out with them. Liz, apparently, had a lot more syringes, just in case. Even Alex was trying to navigate a plan with Michael still in his arms, pressed against him.

Michael couldn’t care about any of it, not with his face in Alex’s neck, his arms around Alex’s waist, his lips against Alex’s collarbone, breathing him in. Michael would never let him go again. Not for anything.

#michael guerin #alex manes #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #michael vlamis #tyler blackburn

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

dance with me

Bokuto x Reader - Scenario

event request: “Can you do prompt 2. Dance with me for Bokuto?? Congrats btw!”

a/n: i’m always down to write anything for Bokuto, bb. enjoy some fluffy, slow-dancing moments with your fiancé, Bo, for me please, love!!

warnings: mentions of marriage & engagements

wc: 1350

---

“Y/n, can you set that down for a minute?” Bokuto’s grin peeks over the top of your paperback book as he pushes it down with his hands.

“But Bo, I’m at the best part!” You whine, pulling it towards your chest, away from his grasp.

He’s leaning over you now, a signature pout adorning his expression. You try not to look up, but you can’t help it.

No.

Not those eyes.

His puppy-dog expression tugs at your heartstrings in the worst way. His eyebrows are knitted together with such sorrow, imploring you to give him your undivided attention.

“For me? Please.” He’s begging. Again, a puppy-dog.

“I just want to be with you…” His head is tilted, eyes pleading.

You sigh helplessly. So needy.

But you give him a soft smile, gently marking the chapter and setting aside your beloved book for the boy you love even more.

His eyes light up immediately, Bokuto’s smile is beaming at full-force once again. Just as it should be.

“Fine-”

As soon as he gets verbal confirmation, he’s grabbing you firmly by the underneath of your thighs and lifting you up off the couch causing you to gasp. Your balance is thrown completely off. He laughs as you frantically tuck your legs behind his back and throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward.

With that, you give him a frustrated frown, but the moment his eyes crinkle with mischief, you know you’re in trouble. He squeezes your thighs, tickling you, which forces you to abandon your forced frown and sends you into a bout of bubbling laughter.

A peachy blush forms across his grinning face at the sound of your voice, even though he’s the one who’s supposed to be getting you flustered. Bokuto buries his face into the crook of your neck, drawing your body even closer to his. You tighten your hold around his neck, loving the way his soft, grey hair brushes against your face.

Bokuto is always trying to find new ways to incite that divine sound.

It’s like music to his ears…

Music...

“AH MUSIC.” He blurts out, jolting his head back to face you, a flash of excitement glimmering in his golden-yellow eyes.

His sudden movement shouldn’t have startled you since he’s almost never calm for more than a few seconds, but you still haven’t fully adapted to his chaotic tendencies.

“Babe, what?” You question, cocking an eyebrow at his goofy expression.

“Ahhh, just come with me!” He expresses impatiently.

“Bo, you’re literally carrying me.” You state, but not without a laugh.

So he sets you down gently, allowing your feet to meet the floor before immediately dashing to the next room over, leaving you confused and wondering what your boisterous sweetheart was getting you into this time.

But in all truth, you’ve never loved someone more.

Before Bokuto, you’d always fallen for short-term lovers. “Bad boys,” as Bokuto now cheesily refers to them as.

It was easy to fall for their mysterious, eye-catching personalities and attractive faces.

They promised you pretty things. Long, steamy nights in dim-lit hotel rooms. Flirty, messy kisses in darkened theaters. Yes, your past boyfriend’s showered you in dirty, devoted promises about what they would do to you.

But it was never about what they would do for you.

You would always end up wishing for more. For something beautiful to happen in the slower, cloudier moments of life. For someone to last longer than the sunny, sensual seconds…

Yet they never stuck around to share the little things. You were always racing against time. Any ounce of conflict or trouble would crumble the already shaky foundation of your relationship.

It was never like that with Bokuto.

It didn’t bother him if you were sick, blowing your nose for 4 days straight or leaning over a toilet seat. He was there. Never leaving you alone except to get groceries or medicine. Holding your hair back and buying you boxes of tissues and cough drops. He would gladly catch a cold for you.

It didn’t matter that you were trapped inside your apartment on your 2 year anniversary, sheets of pouring rain coasting across the window panes, the weather laughing at your attempts to go out. Bokuto was impossible to faze in moments like these. He lit candles across the kitchen counter-tops when the power gave out and wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you concocted a dessert of some sort. You two consumed ungodly amounts of cookie dough that night and shared in celebratory chocolate kisses.

It didn’t change when you were grief-stricken. When you’d locked yourself behind a closet door, sobbing and mourning your most recent loss. He would sit on the opposite side of the door. Waiting for you. Crying with you. That small space under the door? Bokuto used it to feel around for your fingers, linking them together with his digits when he found them. That day, and many times after, he coaxed you out of real and metaphorical closets with loving, gentle words.

It’s why you chose to set that precious book down today.

It’s why you let him hold you whenever he’s feeling needy or lonely, a knowing smile etched onto your face.

It’s why you decided to put on that gold-laced engagement ring. Why you accepted his teary-eyed marriage proposal months ago.

Because for so long, you couldn’t see yourself with anyone for more than a couple months at most. It always seemed to end no matter how much effort you put into your side of the relationship.

Yet Bo gave you every reason to believe that he would stick around, making you feel like you always had a place by his side. That you were always wanted. Worthy of a lifelong commitment.

And whether you liked it or not, he would’ve bugged you until you agreed to marry him, so it’s probably a good thing you accepted the first time around.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts because just as soon as he had raced out of the room, he’s back with a newfound energy, hands full with a massive Bluetooth speaker and a fully-charged phone.

The moment it’s set up, he’s choosing a song. His eyes dash through all of his beloved playlists labeled with strangely specific names. You peer over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the one he’s scrolling through.

The playlist is titled “Dance With Me.”

You burst into another soft fit of giggles over the lovey-dovey name, causing him to turn his head, much like a curious owl.

He had the makings to be a charmer. And a cheeseball.

Both, for sure.

“Y/nnnn, don’t make fun of me! I need to practice for the wedding, don’t I?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you like a schoolboy with a crush.

A smile silently adorns your features.

With the click of a song, your ears are blessed with the melodic flow of R&B, thick with bluesy guitars and lyrical loveliness. A true slow jam, perfect for rocking on heels and leaning into broad shoulders.

You roll your eyes, throwing your arms around his neck for the 2nd time today.

“We’ve still got 8 months til we’re married, baby.” You remind him, your heart jumping at your own words.

8 short months.

8 months until forever.

Forever with your favorite person.

And it doesn’t scare you. No, the flutters in your stomach are reassuring and brimming with excitement.

You couldn’t wait.

So you rest your forehead against his, staring deeply into his contemplative orbs.

As you two sway to the beat, you can tell he’s thinking. Pondering that sentence. Cultivating a response. You can feel it in the way his thumbs stroke the sides of your hips in deliberation.

He’s searching your gaze and his own mind. Drawing a conclusion.

You just wait. Swaying to the beat, drinking in his almond, vanilla scent, patiently watching his thought process unfold before you.

“I just wish it were sooner.” He whispers, eyes locked on yours.

Oh.

Oh Bokuto.

You release your hold around his neck, slowly drawing your face away from his and moving your hands toward his features. The slow dancing pauses, his feet subconsciously planting themselves on the floor in curious anticipation of what’s to come.

Your knuckles stroke his cheekbones, causing him to flush slightly. Fingers brush against his jawline, your eyes now concentrated on his lips.

How dare he speak such beautiful things with that mouth. Always so smooth when you least expect it.

You lean in, giving him a soft peck, lingering on his lips for just for a moment. Enough to tease him. Because it’s so unfair of him to say things like that...

When he knows full well that you would marry him right here, on the spot.

Under the broken chandelier in your dingy apartment’s living room, you would dedicate your whole life to him, vows and all, while twirling to a playlist called “Dance With Me.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq scenarios #hq imagines #bokuto fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #600 follower event #sneezefiction

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doc-pickles · 4 years

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i won’t hesitate (for you) ch. 10

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter's world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

Hello! I hate this chapter a lot but here you go! We only have ONE MORE CHAPTER left of this story though! Woohoo!

TW: Depictions of Domestic Abuse & Miscarriage

The room was dark, creaking floorboards alerting her to the fact that she wasn’t alone anymore. Eyes cracking open, she watched for the telltale shadow that would appear in the dim hallway light to let her know he was home. She prayed for just a moment that she was hearing things, that he wasn’t actually there.

Of course she was wrong, her body flinching as he clambered into the room loudly. She should be used to this by now, the chill of fear running up her spine as she prepares for the worst. But she isn’t, she hopes she never is because that means there’s a sliver of hope left for her.

Her fingers curl around the small swell of her stomach. It’s unnoticeable to everyone except her, the only person who knows about the little life growing there. She closes her eyes, a single tear running down her face as she apologizes to them, to her baby.

“You stupid slut, I saw what you did at…”

The rest of his words don’t matter, she tunes them out as soon as his fist lands on her face. The blows continue, she tries to curl up and shield herself but he’s not giving any form of mercy tonight. Before she knows it, she’s splayed out with his feet and fists taking turns pummeling into her ribs. She can feel the bones cracking, sharp pain radiating underneath her skin as she tries unsuccessfully to keep her tears at bay.

He finishes finally, satisfied with himself enough to step away and brush off his hands as if he’d just gone through a rough cardio circuit at the gym.

“Hope that teaches you a lesson, Brooke. I’m going to shower, you better be cleaned up by the time I come back.”

As soon as he’s out of her sight, she looks down at the damage he’s done. Bruises are starting to form almost everywhere on her body, blood stemming from her forehead. Her body is aching, but she forces herself up and out of the bed. A look behind her reveals the puddle of blood she’d been laying in, the bright red staining the sheets and her pajama bottoms.

“I’m so sorry,” her voice cracks as she lays a hand on her stomach, tears streaming down her face. “I promise I’m leaving, this will never happen again.”

Jo bolts upright in bed, sweat soaking her body as she comes to. The nightmare dissolves from her vision, but the feeling it leaves makes her skin crawl and her chest grow tight. She can feel herself hyperventilating, her lungs constricting as she tries to get air back into them.

“Jo? What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?,” Alex is up and next to her in seconds, one hand spreading over her back to rub circles as the other splayed against her rounded abdomen. “Babe?”

She shakes her head, body deflating as she lets out a quiet sob. Her fingers rest over Alex’s on her belly as she leans into him, “I- it was… nightmare.”

The sweat pooling on her skin doesn't help the nightmare slip away, the perspiration reminding her of the sticky feeling of blood clinging to her skin. The radio silence from the baby in her womb doesn’t help her anxiety either, the lack of movement making her mind race unpleasantly as Alex’s fingers card through her hair.

“Jo, baby you gotta breathe,” Alex’s voice is slow and soothing in her ear, his tone calm as he tries to ease the panic building in her chest. For years she was positive that she’d never be able to get the feeling of Paul’s hands on her out of her head, but the way that Alex’s fingers trail so lightly over her hot skin helps remind her that things have changed. “That’s better, keep breathing. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

As the visions of her past finally begin to fade from her vision, a swift kick hits her stomach under Alex’s hand. Relief begins to course through her then, her mind finally catching up to the fact that the memory that had plagued her dream was far in her past.

“I… I keep having the same nightmare about…,” Jo still can’t bring herself to say the words, to admit what Paul had put her through out loud. Instead, she goes with a roundabout answer. “This is my fourth pregnancy and I still can’t shake that feeling that everything is going to come down around me.”

She’s never told Alex about the losses she’d endured with Paul, she’d never had a reason to, but the way he presses his lips against her forehead assures her that he was nothing except supportive.

“Well I’ll be here to catch whatever fallout there is, I always will be,” Alex pulled Jo closer to him, then dragged them both back down to the mattress. “Go back to sleep, we have a long day ahead and I’ll be here the whole time.”

Jo settled into Alex’s embrace, fingers clutching lightly at his shirt as she dozed off. Alex couldn’t find sleep again though, eyes watching Jo tentatively as his fingers traced patterns into her expanding belly.

She’d never talked in detail about Paul, only snippets here and there that painted a clear enough picture of the horrors that Jo had gone through. Knowing that she’d been pregnant twice before Harper though, that made things seem so much more real for Alex as he felt a flutter of kicks under his fingers.

Sleep finally found Alex, whispers of promises on his lips as he held Jo close to him.

A nervous energy radiated off both Alex and Jo as they stepped back into the courthouse. Harper had just been dropped off at Link and Amelia’s, the little girl slightly confused as to why both of her parents had teary eyes. Deep down, they knew what the verdict of the day would be, but the tense environment of the courthouse was getting to both of them.

“Oh shit, she really dragged her kids in to see this,” Alex groaned as he and Jo walked the halls of the courthouse, his eyes watching the two young children run around Izzie and her lawyers. “I haven’t seen them since I left… knowing Izzie they still think I really am their dad.” Jo studied the melancholy look on Alex’s face as he looked towards the kids he’d helped raise the past couple of years. She couldn’t help the raging anger she felt towards Izzie for what she’d done, but she reeled it in for Alex’s sake.

“Hey, you’re doing the right thing by going through this stupid trial. At the end of the day what those kids deserve is the truth,” Jo placed her hands on Alex’s shoulders, looking up at him with a reassuring smile. “And if for some reason the test comes back and says they are yours then we’ll figure everything out. Don’t worry about today, it’ll all work out.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Alex leaned down and kissed Jo sweetly. Leave it to her to know exactly what to say when his ex took him to court and the kids he thought were his showed up to witness the fallout. The pair broke apart when a booming voice announced that the judge was ready for them.

Heart racing, Alex walked into the courtroom with Jo’s hand clasped tightly in his own. He eyed Izzie, Alexis, and Eli who all sat together on the opposite side of the room. If he squinted hard enough, he could see similarities between himself and the two bouncing children, but it paled in comparison to the way Harper looked almost identical to him. The little girl, who’s first two years of life he had missed, made the same faces he did and had the same sparkling eyes as his younger sister. Never for a moment did he doubt that she was his, the moment Alex laid his eyes on Harper as she ran towards Jo he knew that she was his daughter.

“We’re here to settle the child support case filed by Doctor Isobel Stevens against Doctor Alexander Karev,” the judge’s voice pulled Alex from his thoughts, his hand squeezing Jo’s as they waited for him to continue. “I have the paternity results for Alexis Isobel Stevens and Eli George Stevens before me now” The tension in the room was palpable, Alex feeling as if his breath was being held back by some unknown force as he waited for the results to be announced out loud. He could feel Jo’s foot bouncing rhythmically next to him, a sure sign that she was just as nervous as he was. Finally, the judge spoke again, “These results certify that neither Alexis or Eli Stevens are the biological children of Doctor Alexander Karev.”

The burst of air he’d been so desperately craving finally rushed into Alex’s lungs as the words he already knew to be true were confirmed for him. He could feel Jo kissing his cheek, mumbling some string of encouragement that was lost in the haze of his mind. A small part of him was sad, thinking about the time and love he had invested into Izzie’s children, but it faded when he remembered that he had two biological children with Jo that meant more than anything to him.

Izzie must have been on the same wavelength as Alex because she spoke up next, voice dripping with malice as she glared at Alex and Jo, “Do you have the results for the other two kids? Surely they can’t both be Alex’s.”

Before Jo had a chance to jump out of her seat and rush towards Izzie, the judge read out the rest of the test results, “Both the paternity test for Harper Josephine Karev and Doctor Josephine Karev’s amniocentesis results confirmed that Doctor Alexander Karev is the biological father of both children.”

Upon hearing that news, Alex moved out of his catatonic state to pull Jo into his side, his lips pressing a kiss into her hair as he spoke, “Told you, I never doubted you for a second.”

“Upon receiving these test results, I’ve made a ruling on the outcome of this case,” all eyes in the courtroom turned to the judge, his eyes scanning the two parties tentatively before reading the papers before him. “Since neither of Doctor Isobel Stevens' children are biologically Doctor Alexander Karev’s, I’ve ruled that her child support claim will not be accepted. Doctor Stevens, you will repay Doctor Karev any legal and personal fees he’s incurred during this trial for the inconvenience you’ve caused him. Furthermore, I’ve pushed through the legal paperwork filed in the interest of Harper Josephine Karev so that Doctor Alexander Karev is now legally her father. Case dismissed, court adjourned.”

Alex didn’t think he had ever felt this relieved in his whole life. He pulled Jo into his embrace, kissing her soundly as she laughed away a few stray tears. The worry and anxiety consuming both of them had faded away the moment the judge had read out the results, their fate seemingly sealed in the best way possible.

As Jo and Alex made their way out of the courtroom, Izzie caught Alex’s eyes. She wore a scowl as she stared them down, eyes narrowing at the younger woman as she passed her by. Tightening his grip around Jo’s shoulder, Alex led her past the blonde and into the hallway they'd just stood in a few weeks earlier.

“I told you everything would work out,” Jo smiled up at Alex, hands smoothing over the blue dress she’d picked out that morning. “Thank god too because I’m pretty sure nothing else is gonna fit me. Now, let’s go celebrate. Lunch?” Alex glanced at Jo with a smirk, one hand ducking into the pocket of his suit jacket as he spoke to her, “I actually had another idea, if you were up for it.” From his jacket, Alex produced a velvet box that he popped open to reveal a set of silver rings. The diamonds that glittered back at Jo instantly made her eyes water, her gaze moving from the box up to Alex’s face.

“Marry me again, Jo. I promise this will be the last time,” a chuckle left Jo as Alex spoke, their eyes meeting in a tender gaze. “I love you, it took me so long to realize that and then I let you go, but I swear I’m never gonna leave again. You and Harper and this baby mean too much to me. So… will you? Marry me again?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Of course I’ll marry you Alex,” Jo nodded, a watery laugh escaping her as she leaned up to kiss Alex. “On one condition though.”

“I would do anything for you to marry me Jo, you know that,” Alex smirked, his forehead leaning against hers as he chuckled. “I’ve only asked you about a hundred times.”

“Let’s go right now,” Alex’s eyebrows rose in awe as he stared at Jo. “I don’t wanna wait, I wanna be married to you again. And I really don’t wanna have to file a bunch of paperwork to get you on this kids birth certificate once they’re born.”

A cheesy grin settled onto Alex’s face as he watched Jo through misty eyes. He’d spent so many nights in a lonely bed in Kansas thinking about this moment, dreaming about a future where he got a second chance with Jo. Truthfully he’d always thought that the dreams were just wishful thinking, but standing here now with her in front of him and a new life bursting between them, he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten.

“Well then let’s go,” Alex grabbed Jo’s hand and began walking through the halls of the courthouse, their laughter echoing off the stone walls as they made their way towards the marriage clerk's office. “Do you think we can get our frequent visitors card stamped?”

“Alex!”

#jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #jo x alex #jolex #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #nina answers #hesitate

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whorphydice · 4 years

Text

The stars too they tell of spring returning- Orphydice Hadestown Fix it Fic no-one asked for

Well y’all I’m BACK With content no-one wanted. This time, 10 pages of angst filled fix it fic. Woo.

And of course theres a baby. Why not.

Shoutout to @bakedbeans-orpheus and @hollywoodx4 who have heard my angst for DAYS about this fic and this verse. Ily guys. @hollywoodx4 deserves a ton of the credit for putting the image of the “finale with this verse” in my head. This is for you two who deal with me.

Here goes nothing on the angst train

It’s a sad song

“Will it be okay.. Will it live, Hades?” Stone faced and teary eyed, she is unwavering as she asks. Looking him dead in the face, unblinking. “Persephone did she ever-”

“I don’t know, girl.” He shakes his head, eyes blinking from paperwork to her face and for yet another time in the months they knew each other doubt scattered across his features. “Noone has ever been born in Hadestown.”

Feelings. Emotions. Something she thought she would forget in Hadestown. Yet suddenly a wave of something like grief and fierce unyielding love washed through her. “Can I send her up with Persephone, at the end of winter, can she take her to Orpheus-”

“I don’t know, Eurydice. I don’t know.” Not knowing was a weakness, one he did not like to show. Yet this girl, she deserved the truth. And that truth was unknown. “Take care of yourself, stay off the line. We’ll go from there.”

It’s a sad tale

Fall came and so did Persephone, who could tell things were wrong in the air. They were going to try, he was going to wait. And when he greeted her off the train with his usual kiss and a tight squeeze of her hands, she expected the worst.

“Hades what is it, what’s wrong.”

“It’s the girl. You.. you need to see her.” He said briefly, linking his arm with hers and walking her through the town. He needed her to see his improved conditions. Changes he made for her. For them

The workers had time off and reasonable shifts. Camaraderie on the lines. Other work, rather than just the line and the wall. Things were improving in Hadestown.

Improving for all but one.

Hades stopped them infront of a small building, with a single flight up stairs up the front. “Go up. She’ll be excited to see you.

It’s a tragedy.

“Oh, honey.” Her stomach dropped the second she busted into the apartment, her bag all but dropping to her feet.

Eurydice was there, of course. Sitting in the bed, back to the wall. And like a song bird, she sang. The softest voice singing a melody of love- the very melody that brought the world back into tune.

“Spring came for us down here too- Her name’s Ophelia.” Eurydice said, no need for prompting. “She looks like him, don’t you think?” In truth, no. Persephone could see nothing but Eurydice in the baby, from Dark hair to her nose. “She’s sleepin’ but she’s got the prettiest hazel eyes.” She cooed, not even looking at the goddess. “And you’re gonna take her to him, if you can.”

“I- what? How old is she, darlin, I couldn’t take this little baby from her mama.” Persephone kneeled at the bedside, running a hand over Eurydice’s short hair.

“She has to go, He’ll love her. He’ll love her more than anything. And she deserves better than this. She deserves springtimes and ice cream and her father.” She finally snapped her head up, eyes ringed with puffy red skin. Tears. How many had she shed over this little girl. “She’s two weeks old. Ashame, really. I thought I could wait until you got down here to have her. She has her own agenda, it seemed.”

Ophelia was spring time. This happy, smiley little girl who the workers loved. Who brought Eurydice’s singing to town. She would tell persephone later, about how they banded together for her. How they took over her work for her, and helped her when she was too weak to move.

“I didn’t think she’d make it, Seph. I felt her moving and kicking in there and I was sure.. I was so sure” Her voice broke in her throat as more tears pooled in her eyes. “Living things don’t survive in Hadestown. But here she is. An anomaly I guess.”

Anomaly. Just like her mother. And her father.

“He’s going to love her.”

“And you don’t?” It wasn’t a question. It was just a fact. She could love her enough, Persephone believed that.

“I love her too much to keep her from him.”

It’s a sad song

“She can go, can’t she?”

“Ophelia? Yes. Most likely.” It was an unforeseen situation. But he owned everything in hadestown- and Ophelia he did not. He sighed and looked away from her, unable to face the disappointment. “Eurydice, no. Not yet. I’m trying. I’m looking for a loophole. I can’t stomach it.”

She cut him off with a kiss, and a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He wasn’t a monster, he wanted to scream to the world. To Eurydice. To Orpheus, who saved his marriage and ended his own.

She’s coming, poet. Give her time.

But we sing it, anyway.

The only sound at that train station were sobs. Hopeless, never ending sobs from a young woman on her knees, too weak to stand.

“Tell her how much I love her.” She begged Persephone, as the only thing she had left to go on for was taken from her. “And him. Tell him I love him and I forgive him and that she is the most important thing to me.” It was barely coherent as it stumbled out of her mouth through gasping sobs.

She was shaking the last time she kissed her daughter’s head, prying the baby’s fingers from around the strap of her overalls. “I love you more than spring, sunshine.” Eurydice swore, letting out another gasping sob as Ophelia reached for her, little lip quaking. She was an empathetic baby, much like her dad. She felt everything her mother did. “Give your daddy a kiss for me, yeah?”

The train whistle blew impatiently as Persephone looked between Eurydice and the train, Ophelia becoming fussy in her arms.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?” The heartbreak ripped through everyone in the vicinity, and Persephone couldn’t help but doubt if this was the best thing for everyone involved. Eurydice, especially.

“Please, take her. Take her.” Eurydice whimpered, wiping at her eyes. “Take her and tell her how much I will always love her.” It was harder than selling her soul and leaving Orpheus. It was harder than anything she had ever done and would ever do again.

Persephone offered the most sympathetic smile she could as she boarded the train, the baby in her arms whimpering loudly. “I know, honey, I know.”

Hermes locked eyes with her the second she boarded, and something caught in his throat as she locked eyes with him. “Yeah brother, it’s what you think.”

As she took the seat by the window, Ophelia banged her tiny fists against the glass. “Ma?” She asked softly, before breaking out into crocodile tears. “Ma.”

“I know darlin, your mama wants you too.”

The sight of Eurydice on her knees sobbing as the train pulled away, workers gathering to help her up, is one that will haunt Persephone forever.

The sound of screams as Eurydice said goodbye to her daughter, knowing she would never see her again, will stay with Persephone every day of her life.

On a sunny day there was a railroad car and a lady stepping off a train

Noone was ready that day, when Persephone’s train rolled up. Dozens of people flocked to see her, to give thanks. But when the door opened, the world stood still. The crowd went silent.

Silence, as Persephone approached the boy. The boy who hadn’t sang in months. Who’s permanent smile was replaced with something like indifference.

“Lady Persephone, I didn’t know you had a-”

“Shh, Poet.” And in a moment, the world shifted again. The crowd remained silent, with eyes only on the poet and green clad woman in the center. Without finishing her though, she deposited the whimpering baby in his arms, pressing a hand to his face.

“Her name is Ophelia, and her mama forgives you.”

If he hadn’t held something so precious, he would have collapsed. He vaguely remembers his heart racing and the feeling like someone was holding him under water.

“I...she..Eurydice?” He squeaked, arms shaking as he finally looked at the baby. Dark hair, chubby little cheeks, the sweetest little face. If Eurydice was the world in his arms, Ophelia was the universe.

“Not yet, poet. He’s tryin’” She assured, pulling her hand from his face. “She’s a fighter, that one. She’ll come home to you.”

She couldn’t tell him, that Eurydice made her peace with never seeing her daughter again.

Every body looked, and everybody saw that spring had come again

Orpheus sang for the first time that night. The six month old wrapped against his chest in one of Persephone’s summer scarves. He picked up a guitar and sang of love. Love for a girl far away, and love for a much smaller girl nestled safely in the crook of his arm.

Orpheus loved easily, and Ophelia was easy to love. It took effort, to learn how to care for a baby so quickly. But with lessons from Persephone, he was doing his best. And that was what he owed Ophelia and Eurydice both.

That first night, when he held her in his arms and paced infront of the window, a sky full of stars the only source of light.

In his free hand was a picture, the only one he had, the only one of value.

“Her name is Eurydice, and she loves you endlessly. And I promise, I’m not gonna fail you, i’m not gonna let you down, like I did her.”

With a love song

“She hasn’t spoken in months.” Hades told her, the second she came home that winter. “I don’t know if she has a voice anymore.”

Her singing was missed in the mines. Her joy that Ophelia brought the workers. The hope she inspired. Without Ophelia Eurydice gave up.

Eurydice had no reason to hold on to herself anymore, as far as she was concerned.

“How is the boy? And Ophelia?” He inquired, linking arms with her yet again, as he had done a year prior.

What he wasn’t expecting were the sounds of sobs, held back in her throat.

“He’s trying so hard, Hades. But she wasn’t ready to leave Eurydice. He’s trying so hard but winter’s coming- they aren’t going to survive a winter like this.” It was horribly poetic. Eurydice sending her daughter for a better life, only to be reunited a year later in death.

“DO we tell her?”

“There’s nothing she can do.”

With a love song

Hades was enraged, to say the least.

Somewhere between a desk destroyed and papers tossed into a furnace, he found himself on the ground, palms in his eyes.

Orpheus saved the world. Brought his love back to him. And he couldn’t even do the same for him.

It had been months since Persephone returned. Over half a year since Eurydice gave up her daughter, hope, and the will to fight.

Days since Hermes sent the message. Orpheus was dying. He’d need a ticket.

Somewhere between papers in the furnace and getting off of the ground, he had her called in.

He called the girl to his destroyed office, where flames ate the papers she signed many months ago.

“You’re free to leave.”

She didn’t speak, simply looked up. And for the first time since ophelia was taken topside, he saw something in the girl spark.

“The contract..it’s burned. Gone. Invalidated, actually. Ophelia wasn’t on the contract. She’s an extenuating circumstance. You’re free to go, if you want.” He paused. “But you need to know something.”

She knew it was too good to be true, and the way she shook in her spot revealed that. “Know what?” Her throat screamed, it was like razors sliding over the delicate folds controlling her voice.

“The boy. He isn’t doing well. Neither is Ophelia, i’m afraid. You can go be with them, be a source of comfort if you wish. Or you can wait here, for them to arrive on the train.”

Eurydice can’t remember feeling pain when her knees met the marble, and the blood drained from her skin. “They’re dying?” She croaked out, hand grasping over her heart.

“They’re...unwell. The weather is cruel to them. And Ophelia is just so young.. The odds are not favoring them.” There was no use in lying to her. Not now.

“But they could make it?” She asked quietly, hope in her heart for the last time.

“They could. Should I send for a train?” It was a peace offering. A train and freedom, to get home.

Eurydice nodded, scrambling to her feet frantically. “Mr. Hades.. Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.” She was practically out the door when he spoke again.

“Get to the station. And Eurydice?” She turned to face the man speaking. “Since your contact was invalid, here is back pay for all the months you worked on my line. You’re going to need it.”

With a love song

The train ride was longer than she remembered. Alone on a train out of hell gives one a lot of time to wallow.

She thought of Orpheus, with his million watt smile and gift for words.

She thought of Ophelia, who wouldn’t know who she was.

She thought of how she would lose them both, but was acting as the comfort Orpheus deserved.

She thought of him.

With a tale of love from long ago

The train station was empty, as one would expect for winter.

Empty except for a man in a silver suit, with a blanket over his arm and a solemn smile on his face.

“Girl, come on lets get out of the cold.”

He half carried her home. Months of abuse of her own body- not caring for it, not eating, not sleeping- made standing hard and walking near impossible. She leaned heavily on him for support, the winter storm around them making things somehow worse.

She decided now, to voice her fear. “How bad is it, Hermes?”

When he remained steadfast and silent, she knew better than to press on. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

He brought her home. To the house she didn’t expect Orpheus to have. He unlocked the door for her, kissing her temple before stepping away.

“He waited for you. For this moment.”

It’s a sad song.

She limped through the house, a draft from somewhere chilling to her bones. She caught a glimpse of her reflection- she looked more like bones and paper skin than herself nowadays. Eurydice wondered to herself, what Orpheus would think, when she heard the wheezy breathing in the back room.

With apprehension, she approached the door, swallowing to lubricate her brittle throat before trying. “Orpheus?” She called out, before she limped into the room and locked eyes with him.

But we keep singing even so.

“Eurydice?” The frame under the blankets whispered out, before the sound of crying filled the room. “Eurydice...god no...I’m so sorry Eurydice.” Orpheus was lanky before. But now? Now he was broken. Thin face, lost shine in his eyes. If she hadn’t known to look for it, she never would have seen the impossibly little bundle of blankets on his chest, far too small to house the fifteen month old baby she imagined in her dreams.

“Orpheus, it’s me… why...why are you sorry?” Eurydice climbed into the bed, taking his face in her hands frantically.

“You’re here. That means I’m dead doesn’t it? I failed you again. I took her to protect her, you wanted me to protect her, and I failed. I failed and i’m dead and she must be dead and-”

She grabbed his hand, and placed his palm against the center of his chest. “Orpheus, honey, i’m here. I’m alive and i’m here. He let me go- it’s not important right now. What matters is i’m right here, and you’re alive.”

Unable to wait anymore she leaned down to kiss him, the contact of his lips igniting a fire in her that had long since gone out. “I’m here, and you aren’t leaving me. I just got back, you don’t get to go yet.” Eurydice pulled his upper body into her lap, and stroked his hair, draping Hermes’ blanket over him. “We’re going to be okay.”

It’s an old song

He cried into her thigh, words of love and endless apology. Of hopeful future and the life they would share. Before long she was beside him, head on his chest listening to the steady, albeit weak heart beat.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

They could have forever, now, so long as they made it through this winter. She was sure of it.

Her sweet, sweet husband. And their daughter. Ophelia.

“I know she won’t remember but Orpheus can I-” He was too far sleeping, his arms wound around her so she couldn’t disappear.

She decided for herself, to take the little blanket wrapped bundle from his chest.

And we’re gonna sing it again and again

It was like her heart restarted in that moment, when this tiny, whimpering little girl looked at her. The whimpering, she knew, was a sign of obvious pain in her daughter, and she knew then that she’d go to hadestown and back to end her pain for her.

For a moment it felt like forever and yet no time at all had passed since she held her. She wasn’t terribly bigger, which was concerning enough.

It was like the world fell back into tune for Eurydice alone, when she got to look at this baby she would fight the world for. “Hey sunshine, I know you don’t know who I am, but i love you more than springtime.” She cooed, holding her against her chest. Ophelia’s fingers curled around the strap of her shirt, like they had so many times when she was a new infant still. Muscle memory, she supposed.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything in there to feed you this time. I’m sorry i’m not-” Hours topside and she already felt this rush of failure. Her baby, asking for something she couldn't give anymore.

It was a moment she’ll never forget of course, when Ophelia relaxed with her head against her heart. When her baby stopped her whimpering because she had her mother.

When her daughter, with what little strength she had, smiled at her and just breathes out “mama” into her skin.

Of course, Orpheus would never let her forget.

It’s a long journey out of hadestown and it’s a long journey out of the dark. Eurydice knew though, in those moments, that they could make any journey together. The three of them.

#hadestown #hadestown fic #orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #orpheus and eurydice #persephone #hades #hades and persephone #orphydice babies #okay I love ophelia she is my ANGEL I have SO Much content and head canons for her LIFE

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

Text

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Missing More”

Title: Missing More Characters: Ericson Kids Summary: When Clementine and the Ericson crew drive to Clementine’s childhood home, they get to relive her last few moments with Lee again from a found video recording. Takes place after episode 1. Author's Note: Okay so the premise of this is going to be a little wonky to give this plot an opportunity to happen so let’s pretend that the Stranger wasn’t killed and continued to stalk Clementine after she left with Lee okay bye enjoy. Sequel to this fic Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

For years, every time her birthday rolled around, Clementine asked for the same thing: “Just once, I want to go back to my childhood home and get some closure.”

Little did she know that, since she first started making that wish, the crew had been working on exactly that.

In one of the back garages, Marlon had found a busted old van. It only had a sliver of gas in it, and was in rough shape, and the following years were spent scavenging for gas, and attempting to get the van working again.

As Clementine’s 19th birthday lingered on the horizon, they’d done it: Mitch had replaced the final busted part of the van, and the crew had managed to fill and find a total of 8 gasoline tanks.

“How many do you think we’d need for a road trip?” Violet had asked.

Marlon had only shrugged. “We might as well be safe and take all 8.” They had no idea how cars worked — hell, only a few of them even knew how to drive — but they were going to try their best regardless. For Clementine.

The first half of the drive was filled with excited chatter and blissful conversation. To keep watch over the school, Omar, Aasim, Brody, and Ruby decided to stay back at the school. Marlon, Louis, Violet, Clementine, AJ, Mitch, Willy, and Tenn were the group that hit up the van.

“We’ll be back in a few days.” Marlon said, already having worked out himself how long the drive would be. “Keep hold of the fort until then.”

Everyone nodded, hugging and wishing each other well, before venturing off.

Then, the fun began.

“Pass me the crackers.”

“You’ve already eaten like half the bag.”

Willy scoffed, snagging the bag out of Mitch’s hands and shoving another scoop into his mouth. “How long until we get there?”

Marlon adjusted the rear-view window, casting a harsh glare the child’s way. “Still a few more hours.”

“Ugh. We’ve been driving all day.”

“That’s why it’s called a roadtrip, Willy.” Louis said, smirking into the back. “We need to travel a distance to get there.”

“What Louis means,” Violet said through a sigh, “is shut up, Willy.” Her head leaned against the back of her seat, eyes closed, body tense.

Clementine, sitting in the passenger seat, smirked into the open, empty highway. It was familiar to her in the strangest way. She’s never driven the highway before today, but it felt warm somehow. Familiar. As though it was a shadow of the life that used to dwell there; along the sides of the road and off into the distance.

By the time they actually hit the city, the feeling of warm nostalgia took a dark, quick turn. The abandoned homes, eerie streets, and haunting a sense of life made Clementine’s skin crawl.

“Left here,” she whispered, voice haunted and scared. Still, despite the heartache she felt seeing her old hometown in ruin, she still knew her way home. Her parents had taught her to memorize the ‘important streets’ so she always knew how to get home if she ever became lost. If there was ever an emergency.

She gave direction the entire drive home, her code wavering and her hands forced into her lap, wound tightly together. She had braced herself for the worst — for her home being unrecognizable — but this somehow she hadn’t prepared for.

She hadn’t been prepared for the extent of how different everything would look.

By the time the car rolled to a stop, everyone bouncing with the weight of the breaks, Clementine was hesitant to lift her gaze from her lap.

“Clem? Is this the place?” Marlon asked. Realizing she didn’t have a choice, she gulped and looked up.

Her eyes immediately grew teary, studying the cracked windows and worn wooden panels. “Yep.” Was all she could muster, cracking her door open and stepping outside. The grass was dead, the building tattered and beaten by the elements, and the door was cracked and splintered. Apparently, someone had once jimmies a knife into the lock to get inside the house, clearly unaware that the back door had been left unlocked.

But, what brought Clementine the biggest moment of pause was the full mailbox.

She frowned, drawing closer to the door, running her fingers over the tattered and tarnished wood. Inside, she found a package, wrapped and labelled, her name scrawled on the front in messy black ink. Her heart leapt into her throat, freezing there.

“Clementine?” Louis asked. Clementine said nothing, only tore open the end of the package and slipped out a flash drive with a slip of paper taped to it. Louis, peeking in over the girl’s shoulder, held his breath. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly, all the Ericson kids turned, brows raised, drawing closer to the duo. The note was short, and simple, but haunting.

‘Something I think you’d like to see. - your friend’

Clementine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then pushed open her front door. She slipped through her house, ignoring the overturned and tattered furniture, the haunting, dried pool of blood in the kitchen, and the dead body of her babysitter, abandoned by the back door.

She ignored it all and made her way toward the computer tucked into the back corner. All she could do was pray, that somehow, it still worked. She opened the laptop, her fingers crossed and strained, then hit the power button. Luckily for her, it came to life, thanks to being plugged in until the last moment electricity was active in the world.

By the time that nostalgic glow smacked her in the face, she realized the battery was at a dwindling 10%. Urgently, she slapped in her father’s password and jammed in the flash drive.

“What are you doing?” Marlon asked, arms crossed in horror. “You can’t just check to see what’s on it.”

“Why not?” Violet challenged. “Are you not curious about what’s on it?”

Clementine huffed, as though frustrated at how long it was taking the old laptop to register the flash drive. “I haven’t lived in this house in years, and yet, somehow, someone sent a package here addressed to me.” She turned, flashing Marlon a harsh glare. “I’m watching it.”

When she turned back to the screen, after silencing the room with her statement, she noticed there was only one file on the drive. It was fairly small, a single video file titled ‘the end’. With a deep breath, and with a shaking hand on the track pad, she moved towards it and clicked.

A security camera video popped to life, hauntingly similar. Clementine squinted, adjusting the brightness on the computer, aware it was going to drain the battery even further. Then, as two figures fumbled into the frame, Clementine’s breath caught in her throat. “No.” Was all she could muster.

It was her and Lee, entering the jewellery store, Lee’s lower arm missing, Clementine shaking and sobbing from spotting her dead parents roaming the streets.

“What’s going on?”

“Clem?”

Clementine stumbled away, ignoring Louis and Marlon’s panicked questions. She turned away, studying the corpse of her babysitter on the floor, decayed and unrecognizable.

It had been the Stranger. She knew it. She could feel her gut twisting at the mere thought.

After Lee had rushed her out of there after beating the man senseless, he’d come to and hadn’t stopped. He’d followed them to the jewellery store, watching as Clem was forced to kill Lee, and then stole a copy of the security tape, hoping and praying to prove to Clementine that... what? She had someone ‘watching out for her’?

“Clementine, what is this?” Violet asked, refusing to take her gaze off of the haunting image before her. AJ, creeping forward to get a better glimpse, felt his heart race at the sight of the child and older man.

“That’s me and Lee.” The room went dead-silent, as much also that everyone could hear a pin drop. “And I’m about to kill him.”

The group grew silent. Mitch, Louis, and AJ were the only ones who could look away, glancing nervously at the girl rather than studying the clip. Inevitably, all except Louis turned back to watch. Louis couldn’t stomach the sight.

There was muffled speaking — so quiet that the mics couldn’t quite pick it up — and shuffling around the room. The group watched as Clementine secured Lee to the radiator, as she lifted the gun to his head, as they made their teary goodbyes.

Then, the gun shot.

The room was silent and still, watching as the battery continued to drain from the small device before them. Clementine said nothing. She didn’t react, she didn’t flinch, she just stared dead-ahead at the bloody puddle in the kitchen, longing to be anywhere else but there.

Her eyes glossed over, feeling closer to Lee than she had felt in a long time in her home, before flicking away a single ear and starting for the door. “I think I’m ready to go home now.” She whispered.

“Home?” Willy hushed. Mitch set a hand on the child's shoulder, hoping to pause him from asking further questions.

“Real home.” Clementine clarified, refusing to look their way. She didn’t want to sneak an accidental glance at the computer scene. “Not here.”

Louis stepped forward, his heart heavy and weary, throwing his arm over her shoulders and guiding her toward the exit. “We can do that.” He cast a glance back at everyone else — daring and challenging — before exiting the room and starting for the van.

The group stood silent, heart weary and heavy, stomachs fragile and depressed. Without a word, all of them retreated to the van, silently getting in, remaining silent for the first chunk of the drive home.

Then, when Clementine grew teary-eyed in the passenger seat, Louis began loudly screaming ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’.

Then, Clementine knew she was home.

Then, Clementine knew what home actually felt like. It wasn’t a place. It was a group of people, a tiny, busted van, and throwback songs from a better life. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Text

Sing Once Again With Me: All I Ask of You (The Witcher; A Phantom of the Opera AU)

A/N: Well, after about 47 crises/breakdowns, here we are. Picking up directly from the previous chapter... Word Count: 1357 Content Warning: Absolutely none. This is just an emotional fluffy dramatic rooftop confession. Taglist: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @joz-stankovich @sennextheassasinkingoflight Previous Chapter: Why Have You Brought Me Here? Cross-posted to AO3: here

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“Tell me what to do Geralt?” Jaskier begged.

Geralt found himself frozen, and not because of the chill, rainy night. His breath fogged in the air before him as his mind raced, trying to figure out the right answer to give. He felt like it needed to say a thousand things and none of them were the right place to start.

“Just, talk to him. Start with words. And tell him how you feel before you lose him again you idiot,” Yennefer had counseled teasingly and her words now echoed in Geralt’s ear.

“Caaaarp,” Y/N reminded him from the other ear, the enunciation of the letter p ringing.

“What do you want to do Jaskier?” Geralt finally asked, leaning against one of the great stone gargoyles that were their only companions on the rooftop.

Jaskier paced. “I don’t know!” he cried desperately, running graceful fingers through rain-soaked hair anxiously. “I…just…” he bit his lip as it wobbled and turned to Geralt, wide-eyed. “I’m afraid. Every morning I wake up and I think about just staying in bed as if that will keep me safe, but nothing can from him…”

“I will.” Geralt tried to tell himself that the water on the bard’s face was just from the weather but he knew it wasn’t. Just as the mist pooling over his eyes wasn’t.

“What?” The word was whispered, disbelieving as Jaskier stilled, ceasing his pacing to simply stare in disbelief at Geralt.

“Leave with me tonight. If we’re away from this place…”

“He’ll hurt the people I care about. I can’t just run away with you and escape my problems like I used to. Not if it means Yennefer or Y/N coming to harm. Even the Countess and Andre and Firman don’t deserve that kind of threat hanging over them.”

“I’ll hunt him down. If this creature is haunting the music hall, it won’t be hard to find. When it’s dead…”

Jaskier shook his head again, violently, causing Geralt to trail off and frown at him in confusion.

“I…I don’t want him dead. I told you, monster or not, I owe him, and even more if it’s Valdo Marx. He was a friend…more than a friend. I can’t let you just go slay him like any old drowner or wraith.”

Geralt sighed, both moved and frustrated by Jaskier’s concern for the others.

“Then I’ll stay here with you,” Geralt pushed away from the statue to step toward the bard. “Protect you until it’s…he’s caught or dealt with.”

“What?!”

“Jaskier…” Geralt looked away from those fathomless blue eyes for a long moment before turning his gaze back to the other man. “I want you to be safe, and I will do whatever it takes to make that so.”

“But why?” Jaskier spluttered.

“Because of all people, you shouldn’t be the one trapped in an endless horrible night. You should have nothing but warm sun and…sand and sparkling waves, picturesque sunrises to inspire your songs.”

Jaskier looked like he was struggling with something. “I don’t want to burden you again, Geralt.” The tang of bitterness was sharp in the air and in his voice. Geralt knew that he was thinking of that horrible moment on the mountaintop. “This is my problem, not yours.”

“Those words were a mistake, Jaskier. The worst of the many I’ve made in my life. And this is different anyway.”

“Oh is it? I’m asking you for another favor, help because I can’t manage on my own,” Jaskier’s voice broke slightly and he tried to cover it with a laugh. “It seems exactly the same from where I’m sitting Geralt.”

“I am offering my services, my aid. I want to help you through this, to see you free and happy. As you used to be. As you should be. If you’ll let me.”

“You know, you still haven’t actually given me a reason why.”

Golden eyes burned into blue, the setting sun into the ocean, and they both felt for a moment like they were falling, weightless, breathless, timeless.

“Do you really want me to say it?” Geralt’s voice was quiet, hesitant to break the spell over them.

“Please?” Jaskier shrugged as if he didn’t care, but the ache in his voice was clear and it cut through Geralt more than the sharpest blade possibly could.

“I love you.”

“Y…you…you do?” there was a tremor in Jaskier’s voice, soft and uncertain and pleading.

“It should never have taken me as long as it did to realize.” Geralt stepped even closer, a hand gently brushing against one of Jaskier’s in askance. “You have been the one constant good thing in my life. And I’d like to…” he frowned, searching for the right words to say to express the emotions raging through him. “I’d like to make up for the time lost because I was stubborn and stupid. I’d like to take you away from all this, to make you smile again. I want to dry your tears and fight off everything that is making you fear. I want…you to feel safe and free, and sure. And…loved.”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier surged forward to clasp both of Geralt’s hands in his, trembling slightly and teary-eyed. “Do you have any idea how long I have waited for you to say so? I love you too. I have for years, and was planning to, even unrequited, until I died.”

Geralt shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of it all, listening to the racing of the bard’s heart and feeling a strange sort of fluttering in his own. He wanted nothing more than to pull Jaskier into his arms and hold him close and safe for the rest of his days.

“Well what’s stopping you then, you great lug?”

Geralt gave Jaskier a strange look before realizing that he had spoken his desire aloud. Tentatively, he slid his hand up to Jaskier’s elbow, drawing him in halting steps toward an embrace. Until finally, the smaller man decided he was too impatient with his witcher’s hesitation and leapt forward, throwing himself into his arms.

“Will you say it again, Geralt?” he said softly, gazing up into the suddenly softened face of his love as strong arms tightened around his waist. Yellow eyes stared back at him with an intensity of passion that he felt no longer able to breathe, but at the same time, like he didn’t need to, so long as he had Geralt there.

The witcher chuckled, expression open and light. “I love you Jaskier. And I will keep you safe. Whatever it takes.”

“Good. I love you too.” Jaskier leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Geralt’s mouth, which the other man returned, turning his face to capture his lips properly, holding tight in an attempt to pour everything that had so long gone unsaid into the connection.

Drawing away, chest heaving slightly as he struggled for breath, Jaskier chuckled. “We should uh…we should probably be getting back. Phantom be damned, I have a show to do.”

Geralt let Jaskier tug him back down the path they had tread not that long ago, a new, surer set to his shoulders and his mind already running through a plan for defeating ‘Valdo Marx’, regardless of whether he was man or creature.

Valdo clenched his hand into a fist as whatever part of his heart was left shriveled and died from Jaskier’s words. He would make his bard come back to him, no matter what it took.

But first, he had to make the witcher regret the day he ever dared to come here, to try and take his Jaskier away. But how?

He suddenly remembered a violet-eyed associate and a song written about her damning love. And he remembered the whispers of the black-sun princess and the beast that butchered her. And he smiled, slow and sinister. There was the answer, laid out like a feast.

Darting through the shadows, he left the ledge he had been hiding on and made his way back to his lair. There was work yet to be done, and if the witcher would declare war, then so be it.

#The Witcher #The Witcher fic #Jaskier x Valdo Marx #Jaskier x Geralt #Jaskier #Geralt of Rivia #Valdo Marx #All I Ask of You #😭😬🔪#special shout out to Joz for saying nice things during the last of said crises #they may have stopped the rash deletion of a large chunk of text/an entire word document #Sing Once Again With Me #Phantom of the Opera AU

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leonkennedystuff · 5 years

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not alone (leon kennedy x reader)

[RE4!Leon]

Summary: wherein reader finally confronts leon about ada wong

Warnings: angst

Part 1 of ?

hi guys! so this is my first ever original Leon content! I’ve been obsessing over him since RE4 but the RE2 remake just breathed new life into my already unhealthy obsession. hopefully you guys enjoy this little piece and please, please do feel free to send me some writing requests ! I’d love to generate more Leon content on here!

The tears you were trying to suppress felt intolerably difficult to keep from spilling, the stinging in your eyes threatening to cascade down your flushed cheeks and show Leon just how much sadness and anger was erupting in your heart.

The argument you both had snowballed into a full-fledged match; your voices were raspy and strained from how long they’ve been raised at each other, filling the apartment you shared. At no point, though, do you think this will stop soon. Not with how stubborn he was being.

It was crazy - how only he can make you feel this loved but also this worthless. You wish he could stop hurting you - this thing, this same issue, over and over again. All you wanted was to break the cycle, having felt suffocated even by the mere mention of her name.

Ada Wong.

God, how your blood boiled - she just couldn’t stay away. But the fact that Leon seemed unable to do so either absolutely made you see red.

When their paths cross, it’s as if he forgets he has you - his girlfriend of almost six years. It made you feel insufficient, like you weren’t good enough to keep his attention from swaying. It broke your heart in ways words cannot even begin to describe; all you ever did was love him, as truly, deeply and selflessly a person can love another person.

What were you lacking? What did she have?

“You’re being so unfair, (Y/N)! If you can only hear yourself!” He berates, running an exasperated hand through his already disheveled blonde hair. He was clearly worked up with the whole situation - pissed off at how largely the argument escalated and how he was unable to see where you were coming from.

For the most part - truth be told - he thought you were overreacting, your jealousy clouding your better judgement. It was ridiculous that you felt disposable whenever Ada came up on your pages.

Can you really be blamed though? Especially when the reason for this mess was when you found out Leon had been secretly conversing with her after coming home from his latest mission?

It was like the world tilted on its axis when you answered the call and that damned woman’s seductive voice rang through your ears. His betrayal created a rift that was just continuing to grow; you couldn’t look at him without feeling a terrible stab in your heart and this overgrown fight was only making it worse.

If you hadn’t picked the phone up, would he have told you? How long was he going to go without telling you?

Your head throbbed trying to think of the answer to your questions - of convincing yourself that it would be the answers you wanted even though the worst came to mind.

Despite all this, he still didn’t want to disclose to you what they’ve been talking about.

“Unfair?” You grit your teeth, incredulous at what he had just said. “I’m being unfair, Leon?! How would you feel if I went behind your back!? If I was hiding secrets from you with another man?!”

He shuts his eyes harshly, distress prominent in his strong features. He lets out a frustrated grunt. “Why can’t you just believe me when I tell you that the information is classified!” He snaps, moving forward.

Leon was always very level-headed and calm, but he couldn’t help his small outburst. This fight, far by the worst you’ve both had in the entirety of your friendship and relationship, was taking it’s toll.

He brings his hands down on the white counter top, the kitchen filling with the sound of his palms connecting with the marble. You flinch at the noise before glaring at him, the dam behind your eyes finally breaking.

Before you could try to stop it, tears leak in streams down your face as your chest started to tremble. “Was it also classified not to tell me you were talking to her? Or did you just want no one stopping you?” You retort, your voice being its lowest and softest in nearly an hour but just as harsh.

You swallow the huge lump lodged in your throat, your hands unconsciously clenching as you look away from the bewildered man. You breathe out, not wanting to look at him as you asked your million-dollar question. “If I hadn’t answered, would I ever have known?”

Heavy silence shrouds the room as Leon remains mute. You peel your gaze away from the polished floor and up at him. You blink to clear your teary vision but seeing your boyfriend’s angry demeanor change into a softer, more remorseful one - a fresh wave tides in.

You knew him way too well to know just by his body and expression that the answer was no. He didn’t have to say anything, nothing at all. Your heart was already twisting.

With his anger reduced to non-existence, his face drops at the sight of you crestfallen, his guilt biting at him. He watches helplessly as a fresh round of tears run down your cheeks, he aches to wipe them away and just hold you - to forget about this stupid night.

There are a lot of things in your fucked up reality that he hated and seeing you hurt would be at the top of the long list. He breathes out, disconsolate and defeated, “(Y/N), she saved my life countless of times,” He tries to explain, feeling pathetic. The fire in his voice as cold as snow now. “I owe her mine,” He says, barely above a whisper.

Although you were still trying to let everything process, you knew that he was right there - she did save his life more than once and that’s something you’ll forever be grateful for regardless of how you feel about her, but that wasn’t the real problem here.

There was something deeper, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t a green-eyed monster of jealousy. It was another nasty beast lurking in the shadows and you just want to know what you’re facing already.

Your voice gives in from exhaustion and heartache, cracking at the start of your sentence, wanting to end this - no matter how it goes. “Leon - just be honest with me, please.” You urge weakly, your eyes beginning to throb from crying so much. You steady yourself, wiping gingerly at your face and holding it in your palms for a few seconds.

Lowering your hands, you felt ill just getting your sentence out. “Do you have feelings for her?”

It felt like another eternity that he was silent. When you hear him sigh slowly though, the kind before a bad news was going to be delivered, your blood runs ice-cold. You shake a bit.

“S-she’s like a part of me I can’t let go,” He finally confesses, finally tearing your heart apart. “But it’s you I love, (Y/N). You’d have to be crazy not to believe that.”

You barely heard the last part of his talking. Your face scrunches, like an invisible hand just slapped all the feeling off your skin. Your breath was painful in your throat and you felt like you were going to choke. You were light-headed, nauseated with the betrayal.

‘She’s like a part of me I can’t let go.’

Who would’ve thought?

You quickly gather up the last of your wits to will yourself to move, to walk upstairs and grab some clothes and leave the place with some shred of dignity- maybe for a few days, maybe never honestly. Where were you going to go though? You didn’t know either. You couldn’t think or function normal, not when you felt stripped of anything and everything.

He loves you? If he loves you so much, he wouldn’t have caught feelings for another woman. A woman he met in a day while you, years before.

Once your body obeys your commandment to move, you swiftly turn for the stairs, not caring that you’ll have to pass him. Leon takes a frantic dash towards you, hooking his grip gently but firmly on your arm. “Wait, where are you going?”

Without looking at him, you pull your limb back from his hold. You try to ignore the wounded look in his beautiful blue eyes from how harshly you recoiled from his touch. “I can’t do this,” You croak, shaking your head. “I have to leave, this isn’t good for me or for you.”

“Leave?” Leon’s face blanches, his thoughts going haywire at the thought of you gone. You were leaving him? No, it can’t be. You can’t. He was a fool - yes - but he knew that the sun rose and set with you and you only. Ada - she was manipulative, but she saved his life more than once and they’ve witnessed hell together - their experience in Raccoon City set some kind of attachment between them.

It was his fault, though, for letting that attachment cloud his vision at times of what was really important. You.

“(Y/N) -“ He starts but you cut him off.

“Save your breath, Leon.” You dismiss the conversation, approaching the staircase a second time. He follows behind you, alarmed.

“Let’s talk about this. Just calm down, please,” He stammers slightly, trying to keep his calm despite his racing heartbeat. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Please, just stop.��

A momentary feeling of solace washes over Leon as you turn back to look at him. His chest, though, feels like a thousand pounds when he sees your purely heartbroken state.

“What is there left to talk about? I’ve heard your piece and I don’t need to be reminded that she’s some part of you you can’t seem to let go. You don’t know how helpless I feel, Leon, that another woman is living in your heart with me.”

“She doesn’t -”

You shut your exhausted eyes, repined and extremely tired of hearing his empty reassurances. “I understand that you’ve been through hell and back with her, but it’s been years since Raccoon and you still can’t give her up. That says more than enough.”

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Elastic Heart - Part 6/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Thanks time a million to artificialmeggie for reading this over and telling me it was FINE. I needed that, and you’re amazing. And thanks to everyone who has been leaving such lovely comments, and to all the other Branjie writers out there who have been killing it and inspiring me on the daily. The angst levels in this chapter are high, but it’s going to be uphill(ish) soon. And there’s an eventual happy ending tag! Tags don’t lie.

Brock feels like he lives on airplanes lately. Lining up to go through security, dealing with the TSA, bag of mini-pretzels and bottle of water in the air. He used to be afraid of flying but it’s not like that’s an option any more. Sometimes he’s in town for a show overnight and then on the road again. It’s not how he really wants to run things, but he’s nothing but grateful right now. How many people get to make a living doing this? How many people are so in demand they can’t sit still for more than a couple days? He tells himself how grateful he is, over and over again, in case he starts to forget.

Maybe he’s feeling homesick, or something. He doesn’t usually get like this on the road, usually buries himself in a book, or listens to music, or choreographs a number in his head.

Maybe he’s just missing his cats.

Brock goes to Victoria, goes to Los Angeles, goes to Cincinnati. Brock does stretches in the passenger waiting area, regardless of who looks at him, and prays to whoever’s listening that his gowns won’t get crushed to shit by the baggage handlers.

He waits in the security line-up. Deals with the TSA asking him what kind of “performer” he is.

Bottle of water and bag of mini-pretzels in the air.

Takes off his belt and shoes.

TSA.

Mini-pretzels and recycled air that tastes like a headache.

He flies into Fort Lauderdale for his last show in a string of shows, running on probably six hours of sleep in the past three days (it’s fine, he’s fine.) He knows some of the regular girls, has performed here before, and he has enough adrenaline left in him to turn it out on stage. People are still gagging over his lip-sync with Yvie; the footage is making the rounds online, and thankfully any Celine Dion comments are minimal.

Tomorrow he’s flying home, going to spend a few evenings performing in Nashville, and a few nights sleeping in his own bed. He is already dreaming about his mattress, and it’s enough to keep him going for a couple more hours.

As he de-drags in the green room, one of the Florida queens talks to him in between sips of her cocktail, tells him how much she loved Drag Race, asks whether he can get her Scarlet Envy’s phone number, pesters him about who makes the top four. She’s tipsy but delightful, and as Brock is about to stumble away to his hotel room, eyes literally starting to close on their own, she asks: “You going to Orlando next?”

“No.” Brock hoists his garment bag over his shoulder. “Why?”

“Oh, I just thought, cuz your boyfriend is there. You know, Vanjie’s at Southern Nights tomorrow. I was gonna drive down just to see her because she’s fucking hilarious! I thought you’d - be there too.” The queen clearly realizes that she’s walked into something uncomfortable. “So you’re not. Okay. That’s - nevermind.”

He could be in Orlando in three hours if he rented a car. Or he could catch a standby flight and be there in less than one (shut the fuck up, Brock’s brain. You’ve done enough.)

“Yeah, it’s too bad. Just so busy lately.” Brock smiles dully and leaves while he can still walk.

Back in his hotel, buried under the grubby layers of comfy clothing that he prefers, Brock calls himself an idiot while he checks Jose’s website. There’s nothing about any Orlando show; the queen at the bar must be wrong.

Though the website is shit for updates.

He could drive to Orlando just - for the drive. Rent a car, take his time. It would be easy to change his flight to a later date. He could stop along the way at whatever weird roadside places he didn’t think would creatively murder him (the few horror movies he’s seen have scarred him for life.)

He’s been to Southern Nights before, it’s a decent club. Even if Jose wasn’t there, it would not be the worst way to spend a day off. And if Jose was there - if he was there, Brock would -

Would tell him how good it was to see him.

Would tell him it was all fine. That Brock was fine.

Would tell him he was ready to let it go. To be friends. Or not friends. Whatever Jose wanted.

He would say all this, he would move the fuck on, if he got to see Jose once more. Just one more time, and then he’d listen to Yvie and get over it.

“tell me not to drive to orlando 2moro 2 see her,” he texts Nina, and then falls asleep like a tree being cut down.

When he wakes up the next morning, he has six new texts.

“Vanessa???!!!”

“YOU MUST GO TO HER.”

“YOU DESERVE LOVE BROCK.”

“Sorry if that last text came off as too directive, do what you need to do. But also drive to Orlando. Or don’t. Do you want to call me? Call me if you want to.”

“jsdpfijwefivpij I can’t even I’m so happy.”

“Either way TELL ME.”

Brock rolls out of bed, and wishes he could sleep for a couple more years. Instead he gets on his workout clothing and hits the hotel’s gym for about an hour, trying to focus on the parts of his body that at least he has some control over (his arms, his legs, his back. Not his heart. Not his head.)

Then he showers, packs, and makes some revolting instant coffee.

Yvie said he should move on. And he’s going to. He’s going to any day now.

But first he’s going to check out, grab his suitcase, and go rent a car.

* * *

The van ride back to the hotel is quiet. Or maybe it just feels that way because Brooke isn’t hearing anything, is still teary-eyed and in her head even though both she and Yvie are safe. Safe for fucking now, anyway. That was too close, and not even a little bit okay.

Brooke’s not okay.

Vanjie is not holding her hand.

They all go back to their separate rooms (Yvie giving her one last sweaty hug) and Brooke sits on her bed and shakes.

There was a moment there, where she thought she was going home. That it was done.

She showered before her talking head interview, but she wants to shower again. She wants to wash the day off of her, wash that cringing sense of inadequacy. She knows it’s okay, on a certain level, knows that she’s still been a challenge winner twice, and her reveal was something to write songs about. But but but (if you aren’t perfect what’s the fucking point, if you aren’t perfect then you’re less than, you’re wrong, you’re failing -)

It’s not true. Brooke knows it’s not true and she’s been through enough therapy to get that this is an unhelpful belief. She’s focusing on the negative instead of the positive and she should - do some fucking yoga or something.

But she sits on the bed and shakes.

There’s a knock at her door.

Brooke barely has the energy to cross the room and answer it. But she does. Vanessa is standing there in the door, dark silhouette against the brightness of the hallway.

“We got five minutes,” she says quietly, and then the door has closed behind her and she’s in Brooke’s arms.

Brooke can feel Vanessa’s heartbeat through her t-shirt, both of their chests pressed together and Vanessa’s face tucked in the curve of Brooke’s neck. Brooke finally feels like she can breathe again, and that’s what makes this so much worse.

She shouldn’t need anyone to breathe. She shouldn’t need anyone.

“You’re here,” Vanjie says against her neck, “You’re here, you’re still here.”

Brooke exhales unsteadily. “Barely.”

“Bitch, don’t start with that. You were fine as hell out there, if anyone was going home it was Yvie. You see her doing any reveals like you? Nah girl, nah. It was never gonna be you.”

“But like -” Brooke pulls back, looks into Vanjie’s face. “That was so fucking close. Fuck. I’m just -” She holds up her hand, shows Vanjie how much it’s trembling.

“Girl, I know. You think I don’t know? I been sent home, okay? I got the whole sickenin’ experience.”

“I can’t even imagine. That was awful.”

Vanjie nods, eyes serious but warm, magnetic. “You still turnt it, though. Knew you would, baby.”

Feeling desperate, Brooke takes Vanjie’s face in her hands and kisses her. It’s a hard kiss, maybe too hard, but Brooke wants to remember it.

When she finally pulls away, Vanjie looks up at her. Her eyes widen briefly at what she sees.

“Oh.” Vanjie takes a step back. “Shit.”

“I think - we need to -” The words don’t want to come out of her mouth. “Slow things down.”

Vanjie closes her eyes. She breathes through her nose. “Okay.”

Everything hurts.

“Like - we have to focus. I’ve been - distracted.”

“Right.”

“And I don’t want to fuck this up for you. I want us to - to go all the way. And tonight it was almost both of us in that bottom and I don’t know what I’d do - that can’t happen again.”

Vanjie says nothing. Her shoulders are squared, back straight. Guard up.

Brooke hates it.

“It’s a competition. I’ve got to get my head right.”

Vanjie breathes out an ugly laugh. “So… what you want me to do, mama? Like not talk to your ass or something?”

“No.” Fuck no, Brooke couldn’t handle it if Vanjie stopped talking to her. “Just - I - we have to put this on hold. And then - when this is all over -”

“Right.” Vanjie takes another step back. Another. Brooke does not touch her - if she touches her she’ll never fucking stop. “I’d better get back to it. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Say how fine you looked out there.”

“Vanjie,” Brooke’s heart is breaking (and that’s why it’s so critical that this happens now, before she can fall any harder, any farther. That’s why she needs to do this. Even if it hurts, even if it destroys her now, in the end it will be worth it.)

“We good, girl. I get you. I -” Vanjie runs her hands through her hair, making it stand up at odd angles. Brooke realizes she’s never seen her disheveled, and it hurts to see her like that now.

“Right. Okay.” Vanjie nods almost to herself, and then leaves. Brooke wants to stop her with every passing second, and then wants to run down the hall after her - but she doesn’t. She forces herself to lock the door. Sits back down on the bed.

Shakes.

For a while, they pull it off. No one really says anything about it in the werkroom (though Nina keeps looking over at Brooke with sad, shiny eyes) and they don’t act that much differently around each other.

They just - don’t touch. And if Brooke is feeling pressed she talks to Nina or Plastique, doesn’t cross the floor to check out Vanjie’s station, doesn’t ask her what she’s working on. She laughs at Vanjie’s jokes and they smile at each other when they’re in the mini challenges but that’s as far as it goes. They’re just two competitors on the show. They’re just good friends, like Vanjie said.

Brooke focuses on what she came to do, and that’s win.

And then Vanessa is in the bottom two. Brooke has to stand there and watch her crumble in front of the judges before absolutely slaying the lip sync. Brooke’s screaming herself hoarse by the end of it, and Vanjie’s smile when she’s safe is gonna be etched in Brooke’s mind for the rest of her damn life.

“Good job, girl.” Brooke touches Vanjie’s shoulder as they’re leaving the stage.

“Thanks.” They both pretend they didn’t see Vanjie flinch at the contact.

Brooke keeps her hands laced together after that, and Vanjie walks off to talk to Silky. Brooke swallows down the shattering relief that Vanjie is still in the competition, and doesn’t watch her go.

And then Vanessa is in the bottom two again.

The look that comes over her face when Ru tells her makes Brooke want to break something. But instead she stands at the back with the other safe queens, and watches Vanessa lip sync one more time. Her performance is smaller now, less confident, and it’s a close call between her and Shuga.

But Vanessa stays, and she walks right past Brooke on the way back to the werkroom, doesn’t talk to her. Doesn’t touch her.

Vanjie’s quiet as she gets out of drag, can’t even be coaxed into conversation by her girls, and Brooke fucking hates it. She knows this competition fucks you up, but she thought maybe it would give a free pass to Vanessa Mateo on account of her being Everything. Apparently not.

The worst thing about it is the sight of her so shut down. It’d be better if she would get angry, explode or cry or something. But instead, as Brooke watches her, Vanjie seems almost numb.

That night Brooke does something stupid. She slides a note under the door of her hotel room.

After a few minutes of silence, she hears the sound of tearing tape. Her door opens and baby-lesbian P.A. (Maya?) blinks at her.

“Do you know what room she’s in?”

The girl swallows, anxiously. Then she nods.

“I’ll give you five minutes, okay?” the P.A. on the twelfth floor tells her, and Brooke is so grateful she could cry. She knows this goes against her insistence that they stay focused, professional, but she just needs a moment, just one second alone with Vanjie. Just one.

The P.A. removes the tape. Brooke knocks on the door.

When Vanjie opens it, she looks confused. She lets Brooke inside anyway.

“You ain’t s’posed to be here.” Vanjie closes the door, leans against it. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to see how you were.”

Vanjie stares at her. Then she laughs, unhappily. “How I was? Thought that’d be pretty obvious.” She shakes her head. “Funny you wonderin’ about this now.”

“In the werkroom - you were so quiet. It didn’t seem right.”

“Nice work, Nancy Drew. Didn’t seem right. Well, lip syncing two weeks in a row, read to filth by Michelle for my busted ass runway -”

“That is not true, tonight you fucking lit it up -”

“I don’t belong here, Brooke. Okay? That’s how I am. That’s what they’re tellin’ me. They brought me back, but maybe they shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t say that,” Brooke is furious and heartbroken at the same time. “Don’t you fucking dare. You deserve to be here as much as anyone.”

“And what would you know ‘bout that?

“I know that you’re fierce and funny and an incredible dancer and I -”

“You what?” Vanjie’s reply has an edge to it. “What are you even doin’ here? I thought we were s’posed to be acting all cool now. I been followin’ the rules you made, I been giving you space -”

“I didn’t want space! I wanted -”

“What do you want? Cuz you say all this shit to me, and then you come up here and you act like I’m somethin’ and I can’t with this right now. Okay?” Vanjie’s voice cracks (ice under Brooke’s feet, ice all around his heart.) “I can’t.”

This is not what Brooke wanted.

Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe it was a mistake. They have boundaries in place for a reason, maybe Brooke should go.

Say something, damn it.

“I know this is hard. You’ve dealt with hard before, and you fucking handled it.” Don’t fucking cry, you asshole. “They brought you back because people love you. No one gave you that, you earned it by just being - who you are.”

“Who I am.” Vanjie’s tone is dismissive. “You don’t even know me, and you say that shit to me, when all I need -”

“What?” Brooke holds out her hands. “What do you need?”

Vanjie looks like Brooke just slapped her. “I don’t need nothin’ from you.”

It takes Brooke a second for the impact of those words to register. She opens her mouth to say - what? she doesn’t know - but by that time Vanessa is walking forward too quickly, and their hands are suddenly all over each other, and Brooke’s tongue is in Vanjie’s mouth oh Jesus God -

This is not why Brooke came up here, this is not what she wanted, but she can’t stop making desperate little moans into each kiss, and her hands are fisted in Vanjie’s t-shirt and she doesn’t know how she’ll ever let go.

“Please,” she gasps into Vanjie’s mouth.

Vanessa’s shaking even as she’s walking backwards towards the bed, taking Brooke with her.

This is not going to help them, it’s going to mess things up even more. But Vanjie’s so warm in Brooke’s arms, so hard against her hip, and Brooke doesn’t know how to say no to this.

“I fuckin’ missedyou, I miss you, this is not what I -” Vanjie stops talking as her legs hit the bed, and then she’s falling backwards, pulling Brooke on top of her and into a bruising kiss. Brooke’s hand is pushing up Vanjie’s shirt, desperate to get her hands on skin. They pull their mouths apart briefly so Vanjie can pull the shirt off over her head, and then there’s nothing but skin beneath Brooke’s hands, Brooke’s mouth, the body that’s been driving Brooke mad for weeks.

“Please let me,” Brooke begs, doesn’t care if she sounds pathetic, doesn’t care if their five minutes are up. She’s kissing her way down Vanjie’s chest, down her flat stomach. If she had time, she’d take this slow, but the last thing they have is time. Brooke’s been dreaming about sucking her off for too long, and if doesn’t get her mouth on Vanjie she might actually die (her heartbeat is erratic, she may be having a heart attack, is this what that feels like -)

“You said -” Vanessa gasps, arching her back. Then she nods. “Okay, shit - okay.”

Brooke’s hands hook into the elastic waistband of Vanjie’s pants. “Yeah?” she checks one more time.

“Yes, God - Brooke, just -”

So Brooke rolls Vanjie’s sweats down, over her hip bones, each movement exposing more and more skin until at last -

“Fuck,” Brooke gasps as Vanjie’s cock is finally in her hands, finally hot and hard under her palm.

Vanjie lets out a breathless, broken cry and Brooke swallows her down, eyes closed and mouth watering.

“Jesus fuck,” Vanjie gaps, hands winding tight in Brooke’s hair. “Yes, that’s - okay, okay, like that, I - I can’t -”

Vanjie’s a talker. Brooke probably should have guessed that.

The world and the room dissolve into nothing but sensation - the salt-bitter taste in Brooke’s mouth, gentle thrust of hips beneath her hands, pressure against her skull and the sound of Vanjie’s broken voice, gasping, begging for Brooke not to stop. Nothing has ever been as intoxicating as this sound.

“Bitch, you don’t even - yes that’s it, baby, fuck -”

It doesn’t last long enough (Brooke could do this all night, could do it forever, as long as Vanjie doesn’t stop talking -) and soon there are fingers tightening in Brooke’s hair, hands pulling and Vanessa writhing underneath her, trembling -

“Brooke, I’m - I’m going to. Is that - is this - fuck me up, I’m -”

Brooke swallows around her, swallows her down, and the sound that Vanjie makes when she comes is going to be the end of Brooke’s life, she swears to God. She’s surprised the whole bed hasn’t lit on fire because there’s fire spilling out of her mouth, off her fingertips, all the want in the world coalesced beneath her hands and turning into diamonds.

(Oh if you were mine.)

Then there’s nothing but the sound of their breathing.

The sound of Brooke’s frantic heartbeat in her head.

The hum of the traffic outside and the world turning in increments, moving them farther and farther away from this moment (closer and closer to the end of it.)

“Brooke.”

Brooke presses her mouth to Vanjie’s hip. She drags her tongue across the lines of her stomach. She doesn’t even feel the need to get herself off (even though she could, Christ, it would take thirty seconds) just wants to bask in the feel of the body beneath her, the overwhelming taste of Vanjie’s skin, her heartbeat, her smell -

“Brock.” Vanjie tugs on her hair, traces a hand across her face.

Brooke looks up. Her heart lurches, hard as a closed fist.

Vanessa looks - wrecked.

She’s breathing fast and her lips are red like she’s been biting them and she’s incomparably gorgeous, like some sort of bespoke wet dream, but - but there’s something - something -

“I don’t -” Vanjie rubs her hands over her face. Squeezes her eyes shut. “You should go.”

Brooke bites down on the inside of her cheek, so hard she loses feeling in it.

Then she nods.

She tries to remember how to get up off the bed, how to make her arms and legs move in tandem. She tries to remember what it feels like to have a heart that doesn’t sting with every beat it takes, like antiseptic on a wound.

Vanjie sits up, pulls her pants back over her hips. She looks around for her shirt but quickly gives up. She’s still flushed, still trembling.

Brooke doesn’t touch her. Vanessa doesn’t look at her.

“You gotta figure out what you want, Miss Hytes,” Vanjie says, staring at the wall. “Cuz I sure as fuck don’t know.”

And there are things Brooke could say right now. She could tell Vanessa how scared she is, and how uncertain she is, and how she lights up like a struck match whenever Vanessa is in the room, even if they aren’t talking to each other. She could say you, I want you, as if it were easy, as if there was no axe about to fall, no clouds on the horizon.

Or she could say nothing.

She could walk away.

In the end, that’s what she does.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #nina west #smut #angst #canon compliant #eventual happy ending #elastic heart #mia ugly #tw unprotected sex #concrit welcome #submission #on set fic #s11

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spartanguard · 5 years

Text

savage garden, 7/8

Summary: Killian Jones was, by far, the worst, weakest, most ineffectual Dark One ever. (According to the Darkness, at least.) And he was fine with that. He was just a slave, a deckhand—what use did he have of dark magic? And even less want. But the Darkness has vowed to firmly get him under its grasp, one of these days. He finds respite in a beautiful secluded garden—and the amazing woman he eventually meets there. The question remains, though: is it—is she—enough to keep him out of the dark completely? One can only hope…

A/N: Here it is! The last full chapter! Ngl, I got very close to tears a few times...my apologies if the same happens to you! (well, maybe not ;P ) Title comes from “Tears of Pearls” by Savage Garden. Enjoy!

chapter 7: love will be the death...the death of you

Two weeks had passed since Killian sent Emma away—or at least, he thought it was that long; it was hard to judge the passage of time when the shade of light outside the window stayed the same, a never-ceasing storm raging outside his cottage. It was fitting, really, because it matched the emotional one going on inside. No matter what he did, the Darkness refused to be sated.

The sea no longer calmed his racing heart; instead, it elicited an almost agoraphobic reaction to the wide expanse, and the waves too easily mimicked the constant whispers of his predecessors.

He managed to fix the bookcase manually, but every time he sat down to read a novel, the paper ignited in his hand from the constant sparking of magic in his palm; words of romance and fantasy burned away in his grasp.

At the slightest provocation—as simple as stubbing a toe, as terrible as setting fire to one of his favorite books—the magic spiraled out from him, breaking whatever fragile thing was in the vicinity, be it a window or a mirror, or the one time his wooden chair had fractured underneath him. But each time, he immediately mended it via magic; it was effortless at this point.

And he was tired—so, so tired—of fending off the incessant mental abuse.

You’re fighting a losing battle and you know it, dearie. Why are you still trying?

“Because I’ll be damned if I give in,” he replied listlessly, staring at the ceiling from his little-used bed. He’d hoped the sound of the endless rain on the roof might be provide some relief, but it hadn’t yet.

Yes, indeed you will; Hades has been waiting for you for a very long time, I daresay.

“But you won’t let me go that easily, will you?”

Heavens no! We’re just getting started!

He scoffed, but it was half-hearted, and then closed his eyes and tried to focus on the pattering rain on the roof and not the infinite list of tortures and maladies the Darkness couldn’t wait to execute.

Murder is always a good place to start; maybe a spot of famine too? We could start collecting hearts again, definitely...and oh, it’s been so long since we had a genocide...

The impending sense of doom hanging over him didn’t help his growing frustrations or unstable emotions; he felt like he was just awaiting his execution. Would that be what it was like? Would Killian Jones cease to exist, only the Dark One remaining? Or would it be like what happened due his last visit to the garden—would he be an unwilling passenger while the Darkness made a vehicle of his body?

The sooner you give up, the sooner you’ll find out!

His resolve hadn’t waned—but his endurance was flagging.

Blessedly, Emma hadn’t tried to come to him, to change his mind. He knew this was the only way. Part of him wished she had but he knew that, in the long run, she was better off without him. He could only pray the Darkness spared her when he was no longer in control.

Are you kidding? Her? Oh, we have plans for her.

He sat bolt upright, suddenly panicked. “Like what?”

Oh, there’s so many options! It’d be rather silly of us to let the one person who can destroy us run free.

The first image that flashed across his mind’s eye was Emma, begging for mercy.

Then Emma, covered in blood, his dagger dripping at his side.

Then her staring at him, wide-eyed, while a bright red heart glowed in his hand—until it was crushed and she was gone.

Over and over, it played all the ways it could think of to hurt her, each one ending in her death—and nothing he tried would stop the visions from coming. He screamed and yelled at it to end, but no respite came, even when he was sobbing and the storm outside was at its fiercest.

What, you don’t want us to do that? it finally taunted.

“No, please—not her, don’t…” he whimpered.

The Darkness sighed. In all his years, he’d never heard it do that. Well, fine; I suppose you have a point—think of what we could do with power like hers!

The illusion changed; now it was Emma standing over him with a blood-soaked blade, the inky tendrils claiming her for its own and washing away her light, leaving hard darkness in its place. Gone was the glow of her hair and the brightness of her eyes, only ice in its place, and the ruins of the garden behind her.

“You...you wouldn’t.”

Oh, yes we would. Better to control it than to let it control us.

Control...could she do that?

Only if she had the blade...but you’re not that dumb, are you?

He didn’t respond; he just stood and made a beeline for the main room.

We know what you’re thinking.

He pulled the new rug from the floor, tossing it aside with strength he didn’t know he had.

It’s not going to be that easy.

A crash of thunder boomed outside and made him jump; a bit of dark magic flew off of him and shattered the mirror.

Do you really want to see what will happen? Visions of a world cast into darkness, people screaming and crying, the memory of Milah’s death started playing in his head again, bringing him to his knees. Because we’re quite fine with that—and we know you’re not.

“It won’t—she can fix this.”

Why? Because she’s the Savior? Bollocks. Nothing can stop us. The only way to stop is to be stopped.

It felt like the weight of the entire world was bearing down on him. The gruesome images of the Darkness’s dreams wouldn’t leave him be, intermingled with its constant repetition of Emma’s name and his mother’s last words. “Keep your good heart.” It had once been a mantra; now it was just a reminder of all the ways he’d failed.

He was sure he’d crush under the pressure—was sure he could feel his bones impossibly breaking—until he mustered up his last fragment of strength and, with a primal yell, pushed it all away.

The energy of the effort blasted out from him and took the windows with it, letting in the storm. The wind and rain whipped around the room, adding to the frenzied air and pulling at his hair and tunic.

Looking back on the next moment, he must have been using magic unconsciously; how else could he have punched through the solid wood floor in one shot? Anyone else would have incurred serious injury in the attempt but he just pulled his bloodied hand back and tore at the splinters, vaguely aware of the continued cuts and gashes on his hand and forearm as he worked to clear a gap.

At least this time when he pulled out the dagger box, he already had his blackened blood to offer; he wasted no time in tracing the letter on the surface.

But it didn’t open. He tried again, and again, but nothing happened.

You lovesick idiot. Did you forget Milah that easily?

In his rush, he’d been writing E on the box. A rare correct moment for the Darkness. Quickly, he shook his head, drew an M, and pulled the lid off as soon as it released.

The dagger somehow seemed darker when he held it—he swore he could see it’s black veins pulsing in time with his heart, the voices of Dark Ones past whispering even louder. The magic within him sang in its presence.

Now what are you gonna do?

Well, he should probably find Emma. He’d no sooner thought it than he found himself in the garden, the familiar smoke dissipating around him.

“Killian?”

He whipped around at Emma’s voice, and the Darkness began to spark inside as soon as it registered her presence. She was on the other side of the garden but he could still sharply read the expression on her face: confusion, concern, and more than a little fear.

“Emma, please, you have to help me,” he urged, running toward her. She took a step back when he did; he probably looked like a crazed man, but he was desperate. He held out the blade to her when he drew close. “Please—take it away from me. You’re the only one I trust.”

“Take it?” Her eyes darted warily between the dagger and his eyes. “Killian, what are you asking me?”

“Whoever holds the dagger can control the Dark One. Please, love; it’s yours.”

She swallowed as she stared up at him, eyes wide. “I—I can’t do that; I won’t take away your agency like that.”

Ugh, she’s so self-righteous. She’s clearly never held a heart in her hands...but we can change that.

“It’s not taking if it’s being given up,” he explained, then reached for her with his hook. He brought her forearm level with his chest and placed the handle of the dagger in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. “Please, Emma; for me?”

To his horror, she tossed it aside. “Killian—you don’t need me to; you can do this!” She was holding his hand and hook and trying to meet his gaze, but it hadn’t left the dagger, staring at where it lay cast aside in the grass.

And he was fairly sure his stomach was on the ground next to the blade.

Would you look at that? She just threw you away.

“Killian, do you hear me? You’re stronger than this!”

Just like your father did...and your brother...and all those captains…

“Whatever it’s telling you isn’t true!”

Isn’t it, though?

He finally broke out of his trance to glare at her. “How could you?” he screamed. “I ask your help and get tossed aside?” Dark rage was starting to build.

“What? No, Killian—that’s not—”

“I thought you’d be the one who could do this! I’m trusting you!”

“And I’m so glad you do,” she said, giving him a teary smile as she cupped his cheek. “But Killian—you don’t need me for that!”

Some Savior she is.

“Well some Savior you are!” he echoed; the glass in the lanterns shattered as his magic began to reach out in response to his frustration. “No wonder you couldn’t break your parents’ curse!”

She stepped away, visibly shocked. Deep down, he knew it was a low blow, but he was on his last tether and it was rapidly fraying.

Emma took a deep breath. “You’re better than this.”

No you’re not.

“Am I? Really?” He took an intrusive step into her personal space; the thump of her pounding heart registered in his mind. “Does this look like it?!”

Show her...show her what she’s doing!

A strong breeze swept through the garden; he was fairly certain he summoned it, and the trees creaked in response.

But then he scrunched his eyes shut as he winced in pain; no—she wasn’t doing this to him—it was—it was—it was giving him a headache, splitting him down the middle.

“Killian, come on; fight this!” She was gripping his biceps and there was a cool, soothing sensation emanating from her. He wanted to lean into it, but her magic couldn’t quite permeate the Darkness, which was screaming in his head.

She’s not going to help you! Just take her out and forget her; why bother with people who’ll leave you behind? We haven’t…we’ve been here with you all these years!

The Darkness hadn’t left; it was sad, but true.

“I’m here—we’re both here, you and me—you can do this!”

Until she tosses you away again. She left her family, her kingdom—what makes you think she won’t do the same to you?

She had, hadn’t she? But she’d also pulled him back from the edge—unless he remembered wrong? God, everything was so fuzzy and foggy…the wind picked up and static energy filled the air as light and dark magic collided.

“Listen to your heart; you’re a good man, Killian Jones…”

No, listen to her heart! The Darkness was drowning her out. It’s the only thing standing between you and the peace and freedom you deserve. Her steady heartbeat pounded even louder in his head, shaking him to his skeleton; it was all he could hear.

Take it; take it; take it; take it… The whispered command came from all around, echoing in his head and reverberating off the garden walls. She’s just gonna hurt you; take it…

His cheeks were wet with tears and his voice was raw from yelling. It felt like every bone in his body was trying to flee the one next to it. And he could only see one way out of this agony.

He thrust his hand forward, into Emma’s chest; a shower of sparks fell at the intrusion. She gasped as his grip found purchase on the organ, and gave a small cry as he yanked it out.

Everything quieted then, as if the whole world was shocked: Emma’s heart, glowing a beautiful, pure red, was sitting in his hand; his fingers, with their blackened veins, curled around it.

The stunned silence that followed suggested that no one had thought he was capable of it, least of all him; he and Emma wore similar open-mouthed expressions as they stared at it.

What the bloody hell was he doing?

What you have to do.

“You don’t have to do this, Killian.” Her voice was strained.

Yes, you do.

He...he did, didn’t he?

“This isn’t who you want to be.”

What other choice did he have anymore, though?

None whatsoever.

Do it, do it, do it, do it… the voices were chanting.

Crush it, crush it, crush it, crush it…

He started to squeeze. Emma crumpled to the ground almost immediately.

Yesss, that’s it...oh, it’s been so long!

He squeezed a bit harder, watching as the glow of the heart pulsed faster. Something was definitely changing in him—there was a cold feeling spreading from his spine, not at all refreshing, but not wholly unpleasant either.

Just a bit more and you’ll be free!

Free...he couldn’t even remember what that felt like. He tightened his fist around the heart even more and Emma began to whimper and gasp. From her prone form on the grass, she flipped her head up to look at him, eyes rimmed and red with tears.

We’ll have everything we ever wanted!! Killian was vaguely aware of the scaly texture taking over his skin, but his focus remained on Emma and her heart.

“Please,” she choked out. “Don’t give…” Her eyes were fluttering, about to close for good. He could feel the corner of his mouth pull up in a sinister grin.

Almost there...

She took an arduous, strained breath, and uttered what would likely be her last words. “I can’t lose another person that I love.”

That stopped him. Love? She was on the verge of death... but was worried about his fate?

Don’t listen to her—she’d say anything to get you to stop!

Anyone else would...but not her. He knelt next to her as she lay panting, finally able to catch her breath now that he’d relaxed his grip on her heart.

Finish it! Finish her! the Darkness was demanding.

But he couldn’t hear it anymore when Emma reached up to caress his face. He could feel the roughness of his skin as she brushed her thumb across his cheek and found himself leaning into her warmth.

And he suddenly knew what he really had to do. It had taken seeing Emma in pain to make him realize it, and he knew he’d likely be hurting her further, but it was the only way—the only right way.

What are you waiting for?

“This,” he answered, no longer caring if Emma saw him talking to no one. As swiftly as he’d pulled it out, he shoved Emma’s heart back in her chest.

She gasped and coughed, but then looked up at him, concern furrowing her brow. “Killian?”

What do you think you're doing?

“The courageous thing, for once.”

He took a deep breath to steel himself, then reached inside his own chest, pulling out his own heart this time. He saw Emma reach for him, but she froze before she touched him—a good thing, too, because the jolt from their feuding magic likely would have made him crush it. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt all that much—just a slight tug, and then there it was in his palm. It was encased in a hard black shell, but he could still see a bit of red glow inside; he wasn’t at all shocked it was so dark.

You can’t stop this. Whatever you think your plan is, it won’t work.

“If that means ridding the realm of you, then I have to try.”

And what if you fail?

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” But he was sure. He had no reason to be, especially with the frightened stare Emma wore, but he just...knew.

Carefully, he set his heart in the grass, which turned black and died on contact.

Then he reached over for the discarded dagger.

No! “No!” For the first time, the Darkness and Emma were in agreement.

Emma reached for his shoulder and squeezed. “Killian, you can't do this.” Tears were slipping down her cheeks now.

And he could feel his own brimming. “We both know there's no other way, love.”

You idiot! You absolute imbecile! After all we’ve done for you—keeping your sorry arse alive all these years? This is how you repay us?

“I can’t let you do this; I—I need you, Killian. I—“

“Your family needs you, love. I’m the only one who can do this, so please—let me die a hero. That's the man I want you to remember.”

“Oh, Killian,” she sobbed, cupping his face again. “You already are.”

“I love you, Emma.” It was probably fitting how much this scene reminded him of Milah’s death.

“I love you too.” Without warning, she fisted her free hand in his tunic and pressed her lips against his, firm and soft at the same time. He kissed her back as fervently as he could manage, though it was far less than anything she deserved.

When she broke away for air, he could only pause a second longer in the brief afterglow of the moment.

Stop! You have no idea what you’re doing—you won’t accomplish anything? Do you want to waste your life? Do you want to make her watch you die? We could do so much together!

Gently, he pushed Emma away from him. She was still crying, but gave him an encouraging smile nonetheless. He redirected his attention to he heart and adjusted his grip on the dagger.

You idiot...you lonely, miserable fool. You’re going to die as you lived: a one-handed coward.

The last insult was the final straw. He reared back and drove the point of the blade into his heart, splitting it in two.

Pain greater than anything he’d ever known—worse than any strike or lash, worse even than losing his hand—started burning a hole in him, starting from his chest and quickly bleeding out. Oddly, he wasn’t losing any blood, but those same inky black tendrils that had consumed him all those years ago were leaking out of him at a furious pace.

He wasn’t quite sure when or how he ended up on his back, but at some point, he realized he was staring up at the Darkness set loose as it escaped from its binding and left him behind, no more than a used, broken vessel.

And yet—he’d never felt more free or at peace in his life, because it had been his decision and no one else’s. He knew what would happen and he’d still done it.

The last of the Darkness broke away from him and he dropped back from whatever contortion he’d been in, feeling so much lighter than he could ever recall. Everything was growing dark and his vision narrowed; he must be approaching the end.

And all he could do was smile.

He turned his head to find Emma; she was kneeling in the grass next to his body, his broken heart held in her hands and tears streaming down her face. Amazingly, there was no black on his heart anymore—just that same pure red glow Emma had. He wanted to ponder its meaning, but more so wished he could comfort her—but there was time for neither, and he knew that eventually, she’d be fine without him.

The last thing he saw before falling into oblivion was the bright green of Emma’s eyes, and then everything, including his heart, faded to emptiness.

Oh, sweet rapture! The Darkness was finally free—free of that bumbling burden it had carried for far too many decades; truly free for the first time in its centuries of existence. No silly human emotions to weigh it down anymore; it could do as it pleased!

It had no idea what to do with such a lack of restraint now that it was out of its cage. It wanted to touch everything and everyone, leaving chaos and destruction in its wake. But where to start?

The garden would make a perfect first victim, it supposed—what a better place to sew despair than in what was once a symbol of hope? Unbound, it flew around the space, its tentacles of darkness killing all it touched: vines shriveled, trees shed their leaves and turned black, and one by one, flowers turned gray and their petals fell to ash in the wind.

Imagine what it could do beyond that? The world would fall to darkness, unable to stop it.

Though, one disadvantage to being uncorporeal was quickly revealed when it attempted—and failed—to pick up the now-nameless dagger: there was some perk to having fingers.

The girl...oh, yes, Princess Emma—how could they forget? Such raw, untapped power! It had noticed her own rage and anger...if it could sway her to see things a little differently...oh, there was much fun to be had!

It concentrated its efforts on surrounding her; in her unsteady emotional state, she’d be especially vulnerable—and desperate souls were its favorite.

She flinched when it began to circle her. There, there, dearie; no need to cry over spilled blood.

Her eyes grew wide at its voice and she stood, her stare darting around at the cyclone of malevolence that was closing in on her.

We can dry those tears, if you’d like. And make sure you never shed another.

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that?”

Whyever not? You hardly know me, love.

She breathed in deep at the use of the deckhand’s endearment; just as planned. “Leave me alone; I don’t need you.”

That’s not what you said a few minutes ago. The Darkness echoed her voice from earlier, when she’d told Killian as much; her face crumpled at the sound, to its glee. And you’d be no closer to breaking your parents curse without those books...but maybe we could help make sure you do.

“Never!” she screamed defiantly. “I won’t resort to dark magic to save them; they wouldn’t want me to.”

Even after what they did to the dragon’s child? (Even the Darkness knew to stay away when children were involved; it had some standards, after all.)

She clenched her jaw and glared, having no response.

To think: what happened to that poor thing would all be in vain, because you couldn’t manage to live up to your destiny.

Truthfully, the Darkness was bluffing a bit at this point. As much as Jones had gone mad in its company, it was mostly because the Darkness was equally listless and cut off from the world. It used to be at the forefront of all magical goings-on, so whatever this prophecy was surrounding the girl, it had no idea. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t try to use it to its advantage.

Although...the look of recognition on her face did lead it to worry—she looked like she’d just gotten an idea, and not one that the Darkness would be fond of.

“No, I think that’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” she spat. “I was given all this light magic for a reason; and if I can’t use it to save them, or Killian, then I can at least use it to destroy you.”

I’d like to see you try.

A look of grim, fierce determination took over her face as she closed her eyes and concentrated, holding her arms in front of her, palms up. Oh, she looked like such an amateur.

White sparks began to jump from her palms and the air began to shift a bit. And when the sparks hit the Darkness’s oozing spirals, something strange happened: it hurt.

What—what is this? What are you doing?

It certainly wasn’t the first time the Darkness had squared off against a light magic user, but it was only the vessel that got hurt, not the entity itself. This was new. And not enjoyable in the slightest.

It spun closer to Emma, seeking to drown out her powers, but it was no use: white lightning began to fly from her hands unrestrained, slicing through the column of the Darkness that surrounded her.

Well that wasn’t exactly the way it expected this to play out. All attempts to double down on the girl were failures as it was cut apart by her pure magic, until the pain became too much, like fire consuming its many limbs all at once.

Quickly, the darkest magic ever known to man was crumbling into absolutely nothing, its charred remains disintegrating where they landed and leaving behind no trace of one of the strongest forces on earth.

It managed to scream one last thing before evaporating into the ether.

No more Darkness...

Holy shit. Holy SHIT. She just...she just destroyed the Darkness, didn’t she?

Holy shit.

Somewhere, her mother was tutting at her repeated cursing, but Emma didn’t have the wherewithal to come up with anything more refined or creative. In the span of minutes, she just watched the man she loved die to avoid being consumed by the darkest thing ever, and then she obliterated said thing.

Yeah, she’d been prophesied to do that, and she’d worried it would come to something like this as soon as she met Killian. That was why she tried to keep him at bay at first, not trusting him—and even less trusting of her initial attraction. So much for that.

But that didn’t take away from the adrenaline coursing through her veins next to the surge of magic that wouldn’t abate. She let out a long exhale and tried to shake the sparks out, but they just dripped from her fingers and onto the charred grass below her. The garden was mostly destroyed from all that had happened, but it was a small price to pay for what she’d just accomplished.

No, there was a different price that had been too large—that shouldn’t have been part of the exchange. She knelt back down—well, more like collapsed—next to Killian’s cooling body.

It was odd, seeing him like this. Gone was the shimmery pallor of his skin; she assumed this was how he looked before he acquired the curse: tanned by the sun from long days at sea. But stranger still was that he looked so peaceful—she’d never seen him so relaxed, without the constant weight of his burdens and self-doubt resting on his lean frame. And she hated that it was death that had finally given him that respite.

A drop of water fell onto his linen shirt and was quickly absorbed by the fabric. Then another. After a few, she realized they were her tears, coming back in full force. She’d lost so much in such a short time; why did he have to be part of that?

For a long, long moment, she just let herself cry—for him, for her parents, for her kingdom—as she lay across his chest, holding him close like she only got to once in life.

But then something in the grass caught her eye—something glowing. Killian’s heart. What?

She immediately sat back up and grabbed the broken halves of his heart. As soon as he stabbed it, the hard black shell had immediately dissolved, leaving behind his pure, bright red organ—and she could have sworn she saw the light fade from it completely. But no, there it was: faint, deep in the center of each half, but there was still a flickering, pulsing sign of life.

Another tear fell from her cheek onto the dull surface of his heart from where she’d set them in the grass when the Darkness started encircling her, which seemed to absorb it—and the light got a little brighter. Her heart leapt for a moment, and a spark of her magic burst free from her palm, landing on the other half—which had the same effect. She gasped; did that mean...could she��?

Focusing everything on Killian and not on her own misery, she called on that extra magic running through her, bringing it into her hands with the two halves of his heart. Her tears were still falling on it, creating a sort of magical glue, she figured, as she pressed them back together and used her magic to seal it. The bright light from her palms blinded her for a second, but when it faded, his whole, healed heart was in her grasp, glowing a bright, bold red, and the extra pressure from her excess magic was gone.

She wasted no time in pressing the organ back into his chest, trying to make sure she did it the same way he’d removed his (and, well, hers, but she wasn’t dwelling on that—it wasn’t him who had done that). And then she waited.

And waited.

And waited, staring at his chest, watching for the rise and fall of his breath that should have accompanied the return of his heart. But there was nothing.

She pressed fingers to his neck, right over the little line of freckles she’d just noticed. There was a pulse, but he still wasn’t breathing. Why wasn’t it working?

Immaturely, she shook him, though mostly out of frustration. “Killian, please—can you hear me? Are you there?” His head lolled to the side, but there was no other reaction. “Son of a bitch,” she cursed.

There was only one other thing she could try. She didn’t have much success with it, and it was probably a longshot—but given what their goodbye consisted of, she had to give it a go.

“Killian, I love you,” she whispered, hovering over his face. “Come back to me.” And then she pressed her lips to his, praying that her love was enough to wake him.

Killian wasn’t sure how long he spent there in the comfortable nothingness. There was no light, no sound, no feeling—it was as if he was laying on the bottom of a deep, dark pit, while at the same time floating in a void. Was this the afterlife, he wondered, or merely where the souls of Dark Ones past ended up? Perhaps he’d landed in some sort of purgatory. But he was nothing if not patient, and could wait to find out.

He briefly pondered the fates of those who’d passed before him—his mother, his brother, Milah. Had they traveled through this space, too, or did they head straight for greener pastures?

Wherever they, or he, went, one thing was for certain: Emma wasn’t yet there. He’d so loathed to leave her behind, but she was strong, possibly the strongest person he’d ever known; she’d move on past his sorry self, regardless of the fact that she loved him. At least he’d had that before leaving the mortal plane.

Slowly, a warm feeling took over him, like being washed in sunlight—though it was still dark. He took a deep breath, unnecessary as it was, as he readied for whatever came next. Oddly enough, he thought he felt his heart beating again; perhaps that was just a trick of the afterlife?

For a few long moments, it was just he and the gentle thump-thump in his chest there in the abyss. But then he saw a light, quickly getting brighter until it was nearly blinding.

And he could have swore he heard Emma’s voice.

Suddenly, pain crashed back into him—like lightning striking through his limbs and pressing down on his body, violently reigniting a fire that had burned out. He was gasping for breath, sputtering and coughing—until he felt a familiar gentle touch, and it was all immediately soothed.

“Killian?”

He blinked a few times before his eyes truly adjusted to the light—not as glaring as whatever he just experienced, but still more than the previous emptiness. And the first thing he saw was Emma, hovering over him, a smile taking over her face.

“Emma?” His voice was unsteady.

“It worked,” she whispered. “Holy shit, it worked!”

“What...what happened?” He was dead, right? Did that mean she was...oh, no… “Emma, are you—”

“I’m right here,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. She felt warm enough, but a tear was falling down her cheek. Beyond her, he saw the garden—but it wasn’t at all how he remembered; it looked much like it did after his very first visit: dead, dried up, dark.

“Where are we?” he asked shakily, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“We’re still in the garden,” she explained calmly, albeit a bit watery. “You...you were gone and then the Darkness was free, but I—I beat it, or destroyed it, or something, and then—your heart! Oh, your heart—I fixed it, and, and then…” She was rambling and crying and grinning and he only caught half of what she was partially explaining, but the last part sounded loud and clear: “True Love’s Kiss,” she said, reverently.

He was aware of his mouth hanging agape as he stared up at his angel, his actual savior. “I...I’m alive?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“And we’re…” He hardly dared to put it into words.

“Mhmm.”

He exhaled and stared up at the sky, where the sun was beginning its descent and leaving a deep blue behind. So he hadn’t seen his last sunset yet, or the stars, or the sea; he had a second chance. It was almost impossible to believe, but as he took another deep breath, and another, it sunk in.

The Darkness hadn’t won. Emma had. Love had.

“Nothing else to say?” Emma quipped nervously, then sniffled. Oh, gods, he’d been silent ever since the revelation—what poor form!

Quickly, he sat up—but immediately swayed in his spot at the rush of blood; he’d have to get used to that, and so many other mortal complaints, again. Emma gripped his shoulders and anchored him as he waited for the sensation to abate, too slowly, in his opinion.

But once the light-headedness passed, he gripped her hand and met her tear-filled eyes. “I...I have no idea what to say to that, love,” he stammered. “It’s nothing I ever imagined hearing, and more than I ever dared to consider or hope for. I’m...I’m speechless.”

“In a good way, right?”

He chuckled, but it came out almost like a sob. “In the best way anyone can imagine. It—you—is more than I could possibly deserve.”

“Hey—enough of that,” Emma said softly, cupping his cheek with her free hand; it felt so, so warm, and he realized all he’d been missing out on. “For starters, that was never true, and it’s even less true now. You deserve peace and happiness, Killian; you always have. And this?” She continued, placing her other hand over his heart, “is the brightest red I’ve ever seen. Not that I have many hearts to compare it to, but just so you know. I love you—I did then and I do now; so much now. So please stop beating yourself up, because today? You were the strongest person I’ve ever seen.”

Tears were free-falling down his cheeks now. “I love you, too, darling. More than I thought I could. Thank you for saving this sorry lost soul.”

Before they could continue down a spiral of platitudes, Emma pulled him close to kiss him, this time in celebration. It wasn’t a particularly long or deep kiss—his return to mortality did inhibit that a bit—but it was sweet and gentle and carried the promise of so much more.

thank you so much for reading! epilogue to come!

tags: @kat2609 @optomisticgirl @thesschesthair @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @selfie-wench @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @killianmesmalls @distant-rose @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @nfbagelperson @the-captains-ayebrows @stubble-sandwich @killian-whump @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @wyntereyez @lfh1962 @bmbbcs4evr @therooksshiningknight @facesiousbutton82

#cs ff #dark killian #deckhand hook #cs march madness #fic: savage garden #my ff

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sunshinexlollipops · 6 years

Text

"A Crime of Passion" (2/2)

(part 1)

Okay, all done! Hope you liked it, anon! ;)

- - -

Both you and Arthur froze, your attention snapping to a man who was glaring daggers at the two of you, his colt ready with his finger at the trigger.

"Arthur Morgan," he hisses, his voice full of venom and malice as Arthur quickly moves in front of you, his body rigid as he blocks you from the man's sights, "You done tryin' to impress your whore with the money you stole, or do I need to give you a minute so you can fuck them over too?"

Arthur's voice is cold and deep, the kind that makes your skin prickle and your hairs stand on end.

The kind of voice he uses when his bullet casings drop to the ground like the lifeless bodies he spent them on.

"You'd be wise to put that gun away, partner."

"Or you'll what?" the man sneers, waving his pistol as a few people begin to gather around to watch the commotion, "Spend the fifteen minutes you just paid for bleeding on the ground?" he aims the barrel directly at Arthur's chest, his trigger finger insistent, "I ain't leavin' without gettin' my money, or gettin' even! I'll even slaughter that whore if I have to!"

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes wide as the man spits in Arthur's direction. You can feel the air around Arthur grow heavy, and he doesn't even need to be facing you for you to know the dark, predatory glint that comes to his eyes at the words.

It's an anger you've only seen once, when Colm O'Driscoll managed to graze Dutch with a bullet on the shoulder.

You knew then that if looks alone could kill, Arthur would've dropped him right then and there.

And now, if anything, the fear you feel is for the naive man in front of you, who has no idea with what he's just unleashed.

"Well," Arthur's voice dips even lower, and he takes a step away from you, his hand already going to his holster, "if you insist."

The man goes to pull the trigger, but it's a misfire.

He barely has any time to curse before Arthur has already drawn out his pistol, and makes sure several bullets get lodged in the man's chest.

You watch, pale and breathless, as the man sputters, looking between you and Arthur as he drops to his knees, the inside of his mouth turning crimson.

"Now you know what it's truly like to get fucked over by me," Arthur growls, and the man gives an aborted cry before falling down in the mud face first, dead.

"Christ," you hiss through your teeth, and it's then that the crowd begins to shout for the police.

Arthur takes a second just to kick the man's corpse before sharply turning towards you, eyes clouded and face closed off.

"Come on, we gotta get outta here."

You waste no time, not even bothering to argue or even say anything as you dart to your horse.

You and Arthur manage to slip onto the saddles without any issue, and you're quick to spur your horse out of the stable right as several officers round the corner and shout your way.

You poor horse cries as you force it into a gallop, and you send a grim look to Arthur who refuses to look your way as he rides alongside you.

You're scared, scared mainly because a bounty and being pursued by police is the last thing the two of you need. But, you're scared just by the way Arthur is acting alone.

"Arthur—" you start, but he looks at you from where he's grappling the reigns of his own horse, his face set into a sour scowl.

"Get lost first, then talk," he orders, leaving no room for argument.

Shakily, you nod, feeling your stomach sink as a mirage of policemen clamber onto their horses after the two of you, going as fast as you can to escape Saint Denis.

You're not sure how this happened, how such a sweet night seemed to shift entirely, but you have no choice in the matter now.

You ride hard for what seems like hours, but is surely only a few minutes.

Arthur is quick to guide you into a sharp turn, your horse nearly crying and stumbling as it tries to avoid ramming into his as he cuts across the road, and into a particular part of the marsh.

There's a steep bank that he maneuvers you and the horses down into, just enough to where they are hidden from the road by the height of it and the overgrowth of cat tails.

It's night now, and the only light offered are the lanterns from the officers as they race down the muddied road, shouting as they cry for your blood.

Arthur jumps down from his horse to peek out around the corner of the bank, and you pray with all of your heart that they don't find you.

Arthur is stock still, his eyes trained like a falcon's as the officers race closer and closer as they search for you both.

"Arthur—" you start again, voice low and hissed as your heart beats frantically in your chest.

He glances back at you, a finger pressed to his lips with a pleading expression. The frown you have quivers as tears begin to work their way into existence, and you can't help but notice the way Arthur looks like his heart breaks at your upset.

"Shit, they're gone! But— but how!?"

The officers take their horses and trot across the road a few times, their frustration evident, "There's no way they could've ridden of that quick!"

"Well, they ain't here, and this is Night Folk and alligator territory," one grunts, "If we don't get them, they will."

"Good riddance, I say..."

The officers pace a few more times before they seem satisfied enough to leave, and you can't help but let a deep breath go as you watch them begrudgingly turn back. The flames of their lanterns fade with distance, and from the fog that's starting to set in.

"Shit," Arthur finally curses, and he falls back against the steep incline of the bank, uncaring for how it dirties his once pristine suit.

You remain quiet, still seated on your horse, both you and your poor mare rattled and shaken from the ordeal.

It's after a few seconds of composure that Arthur looks at you— really looks at you, and you can tell that he's upset, even in what little light the moon offers you here in the marsh.

"I'm— I'm so sorry," he murmurs, "I just wanted... I wanted to give you a good night. A night that you deserved. I'm the worst man alive for what I put you through tonight."

You swallow, trying to level yourself enough now that you are seemingly in the clear, "It's okay, Arthur... I'm just spooked is all... That was too close for comfort."

"You can say that again," he hisses, standing, and he goes to pet his horse, whispering it a light apology before turning his focus back to you, "Just— you okay? For sure?"

Nodding, you breathe out roughly, "Yes. I'm not hurt, and I just need a moment to calm down... Didn't expect to have a gun waved in my face tonight."

Arthur winces at that, and you feel a small pang of guilt for the way he kicks himself over it.

"That was never my intention... The money— I took it. I did rob that guy. But I heard a rumor that he was sellin' folk, slaves they were, intended to go to Guarma. Thought he could spare a few dollars after it proved true, so that I could make sure they got out."

You smile weakly at him, and Arthur just takes the chance to look at you, to take you in.

"I wouldn't have been mad if you even just hit a stagecoach, Arthur. We're outlaws. Morals are always gray with us. I have to say, it's somethin' to admire. You did something honorable when you didn't have to," because of your words, Arthur looks away then, unusually sheepish.

"Well, ain't no need to compliment me on somethin' I didn't do," he starts, rubbing at the nape of his neck, "I didn't even pay for any of this with his money."

You gape at him then, and you watch as he sighs and rubs at his face.

"I did odd jobs for a few weeks. Bounty huntin', actual huntin'... I earned every penny honestly, for you. The last thing I wanted was to give you a special night on stolen dollars... You're— you're too good for that kinda thing."

Arthur is shocked when he looks back at you and finds you crying again, but this time, there is a huge smile on your face as you sniffle through a small laugh.

"You okay?" he asks, genuinely concerned as he takes a step towards you.

"I'm fine, just moved is all," you sniffle, and Arthur gives you a soft smirk before you hop off you horse so you're eye level with him, "Just— come here—"

Your words are cut off as you move Arthur into a kiss, your lips pressed hotly against his.

You can feel him smiling into it, a small chuckle rumbling in his thick chest before he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you lace yours along his neck.

It's short, and sweet. And after a few seconds, you pull back to look at him, teary-eyed and smiling brilliantly with all the love you could ever feel for him in that moment in your chest.

And with the way he looks at you, you know it's just the same for him.

"So, since this didn't exactly go to plan," he says, voice low and somewhat playful as he levels you with a teasing gaze, "what do you think about visiting Strawberry this time of year? I heard their hotels are real nice."

With a vibrant laugh and a grin wide on your lips, you roll your eyes, and kiss him again.

#fanfic #writing #rdr #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan / reader #arthur morgan #ask box fic #prompt ask #anon ask #tumblr ask #fic prompt #fanfic prompt #writing prompt #prompt #read dead redemption 2

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the-lupine-sojourner · 5 years

Text

Takara’s Hero Academia, Season 1 Finale [Eijiro Kirishima/OC] [Female!Aizawa/Hizashi]

wOwIe!! We’re already at the Season 1 finale!?!? Geez, it feels like yesterday I got up the courage to post the bio for Takara and wrap up proof-reading the prologue! I want to give a huge thank you to everyone that’s been here with me on this journey and I hope you all will stick around for the other two seasons (and as long as the anime goes, honestly. I love it so much! :) )

Okay! Now, for the taglist: @elite-guard-hardygal, @dailyojiromashirao/@souskena, and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99. Love you all and hope you guys like this update! I can’t wait to share the next seasons with you all!

Before we get to the story, here’s the Masterlist for this story.

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(I know this isn’t an MHA GiF, but I think of Takara as looking similar to this girl, and...yeah. Sad baby girl warning! T^T)

“Your Class Rep has returned! And I brought reinforcements!” Tenya’s voice calls out next. I smile a bit. Go, Tenya!

“Shota!” I hear Dad scream in outrage, terror, and shock. “No, no, no! Shota!” Eijiro then grits his teeth and apologizes as he rushes up the last section of stairs and I can’t help screaming in pain as he finally gets to the top and collapses, panting heavily.

“She needs help!” Eijiro screams, and I finally notice that the reason his voice sounded so thick was because he was fighting tears. He’d lost the fight now and held me, sobbing. Dad, teary-eyed, immediately rushes over from where he’d been surveying Mom’s many injuries.

“Tik-Tak!” He sobs, and I give him a weak smile. “Not you, too...no...” I feel a painful pang in my heart at Dad’s voice.

“D-don’t worry.” I mumble. “You should see the other guy.” I joke, but he just starts crying, hands on my shoulders, hair tickling my nose as he ducks his head. “Dad...I’ll be okay. Recovery Girl will fix us, don’t- -Dad!” I cry, but Dad doesn’t listen, standing and walking with a troubling sudden calm toward the edge of the stairs.

“Cover Takara’s ears.” He instructs and Eijiro moves to do so, but I shake my head, covering my own ears as Eijiro covers his.

Dad then unleashes a scream that makes the building tremble as much as it had during All Might and Nomu’s fight. I can hear the pain and devastation in his voice and tears stream down my face.

Dad...this wasn’t your fault. I promise!

After the villains had been subjected to Dad’s scream of pain and rage, the teacher began to filter away to find the other students of 1-A. 13 asks to be helped up as Snipe fires on the two leaders to keep them from running, but it didn’t appear to be working. “We need someone who can capture from a distance!” He growls. 13 slowly hobbles over.

“Leave it to me.” She replies, opening her gloves and activating her Quirk.

“Is it working?” I ask no one in particular. Ochaco shakes her head moments later.

“No. It was too far a distance and the villain’s warp Quirk is too quick.” I grit my teeth angrily.

“Crap.” I’d hoped we could capture the villains’ leaders, but at least Kurogiri was smart enough to run. Tomura, though...he was something else. I didn’t understand him at all.

“Our priority is making sure all our students are safe.” Nezu instructs and the teachers nod, moving to round up the villains and I try to move and- -I’m not sure what I’d do, but I was through just laying around like a useless doll!

“Hey, save your strength.” Dad says, suddenly by my side again, gently pressing on my shoulders to make me stay still. “Tik-Tak, we need to get you to an ambulance. It’s the fastest way back to the hospital. Recovery Girl is meeting you and Shota there.” I nod, dreading the vibrating and the jostling already, not to mention the actual treatment of my broken bones, but I had no other choice.

“Okay.” I reply. He cups my cheek and kisses my forehead.

“I’ll see you as soon as we’re done here, okay?” I nod again.

“Sounds good. I love you.” He smiles sadly at me and kissing my temple.

“I love you, too, Takara.” He replies, then stands and puts a hand on Eijiro’s shoulder. “Take care of her, okay?” He asks, voice serious. He hardly ever uses my first name…

“I will.” Eijiro promises and Dad then races off. I bite my lip. He was mad at himself and the villains, I can tell, but we’d have to talk later. Eijiro gently stands up, tears still in his eyes. “Don’t worry.” He whimpers, trying to sound brave and confident. I smile at him.

“I won’t.” I assure him as Eijiro lifts me and Shoji lifts Mom and we all make our way outside to the ambulance. Hounddog’s gruff, unintelligible speech almost makes me laugh as he offers to carry me (Eijiro declines), then he leaves. Eijiro sits beside me and Mom is loaded into a different ambulance with Mezo laying her on the gurney and then closing the door after her.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help.” Eijiro mumbles, voice thick and tears leaking out again as the ambulance begins to drive, the paramedic beginning to treat my leg and other wounds, remaining silent.

“Don’t be sorry. We all had villains to deal with.” I reply, voice trembling with the pain of having my leg bones set so they could splint it until they got to the hospital. Eijiro sighs.

“Still. I had you in my arms when that guy started warping us away! If I’d just held on- -”

“Eijiro, you’re not to blame.” I interrupt. “Seriously. The only ones to blame are the villains. They‘re the ones that attacked. What happened happened and we can’t change it.” I add thickly, swallowing. “We all did what we could.” Why do I still feel so guilty, then? Why do I still feel like there was so much more I could’ve done?! I growl inwardly, frustrated beyond belief.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have to sit you up now, okay?” The paramedic, an African-American with dreadlocks asks, looking a little sheepish at having to interrupt our conversation. I grimace, but nod. Eijiro then helps the man sit me up as smooth and gentle as possible. I still hiss in agony, then the man pales the more he has to mess with my ribs. “Dear God! Kid, yo-your ribs...the ribcage is almost collapsed! What happened?!” I bite my lip, trying not to cry or scream as he begins setting my ribs.

“One of the villains was - - was super strong and I couldn’t dodge him. He- -” I hiss as I feel my ribs being adjusted back to their proper place, “he smashed me into the ground then threw me against a fountain.” My voice and breath comes in fits and bursts until the paramedic is done.

“Holy shit, kiddo. You are one tough girl.” The paramedic (Rinjor, the nametag read) muses with a whistle as he continues treating my ribs. Only now do I realize I’d been squeezing Eijiro’s hand. I blush and let go. “There. All done. I’m sorry. You did a great job.” We soon arrive at the hospital and I carted inside and happen to see the other ambulance with Mom being taken out of it. She’s covered in bandages, her arms completely encased in casts.

Eijiro came in with us, but as he had no relation to me, he was told to wait in the waiting room.

Mom and I end up in the same room, probably because she’s my legal guardian. I bite my lip and try not to cry as the doctors and nurses finish Rinjor’s work. As often as I can, I am watching Mom being treated. It’s probably masochistic, but I can’t help it. She looks so frail and broken, laying there…

Finally, I’m alone with Mom, the beeping of our vital sign monitors and our breathing the only sounds.

Finally, I let my tears out. It hurt to sob, it hurt to breathe, everything hurt and I couldn’t keep it in any more. We’d survived, but I’d heard a doctor telling someone on the phone (Dad? Someone at the school? The police?) that Mom’s arms were splintered, with facial fracturing to boot. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

No, the worst part was that the orbital floors in her eyes were severely damaged.

She...she could be blind! I lay there, waiting for the painkiller in my IV to kick in, tears still leaking out. I felt horrible, and not just my body.

Dad’s reaction hadn’t been something I wanted to witness, but I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. He’d been so devastated. His words rang in my head on repeat and I felt guilty all over again.

“Lemme guess; I should see the other guy.” A voice muses wryly from the doorway, snapping me from my thoughts. I look over and see Shinso standing there. I give him a small smirk.

“You know it.” He comes further into the room.

“In all seriousness, Takara; what happened?”

“Rescue training ended up as a villain attack.” I surmise, sighing. “One of the guys was this really...really strong guy - -thing- -the leader called Nomu that was supposed to be able to defeat All Might.”

“I take it this Nomu thing did this to you?” I grimace, the memory of that instant playing. It all happened so fast…

I swallow and fiddle with a corner of my sheets. “...Yeah. I couldn’t get Mom and I out of his range fast enough, ended up smashed against the ground.” Shinso grimaces.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Then thrown into a fountain.” He winches.

“...Well, at least you’re stable.” I then blink.

“Wait...how are you here? Dad bring you?” Shinso nods.

“He told me you were in the hospital and that there’d been a villain attack. I agreed to ride with him. He’s...not as excitable as I thought he’d be.” I bite my lip. That wasn’t like Dad.

“...” Before I can reply, I see Dad slowly inch into the room. He refused to look up from the floor. “Hey, Dad!” I greet, hoping sounding fairly cheerful might help. He glances at me and his lips try for a smile, it doesn’t work, then I notice his eyes; teary, unfocused...listless. It was obvious he’d been crying. A lot.

“H-hey, Tik-Tak.” He mumbles, lip trembling as he speaks. He glances at Mom’s bed. “Shota’s still out?” It was probably a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway.

“Yeah, but the doctors are hopeful she’ll be awake soon. They got her on the same painkillers they have me on, so she’ll feel better in no time.” Dad sighs heavily, sitting in the chair in front of my bed, head bowed.

“Takara, I should have been here.” It was practically a sob, and I blink several times. How could he blame himself for this?

“Dad, stop it. You’re a teacher, too. You have your own class- -”

“That’s just it. I was in between classes, grading damn papers when they told me what happened at the USJ. I told Shota I could stop by, but your mom said I should focus on getting the grading done. If I had stopped by, anyway…”

“Dad, please. This is pointless.” I reply gently, swallowing a lump in my throat. “We’re going to be okay. As soon as Recovery Girl gets here, she’ll fix us right up and it’ll be okay. Please don’t beat yourself up.” It seems that was the wrong thing to say, because next second, Dad’s sobbing uncontrollably. Absently, I note Shinso walking toward the door. I don’t really blame him, so I don’t bring attention to his departure.

“Sh-she could be blind, Takara!” He exclaims, finally looking at me. “My wife might be blind and I can’t do anything and we don’t know and I hate this! I hate this waiting!” He was verging on hysterical, standing and gesturing wildly as he spoke, running frenzied hands through his hair. “And to make it worse, my kid’s beat to hell! Your ribcage was almost collapsed, Takara!” I’d never seen him like this. The closest had been that one day I freaked out after breaking a glass. I bite my lip.

“Might.” I emphasize. “Mom might be blind. My ribcage was almost collapsed. We know my ribs will heal, and there’s no way to know the condition of Mom’s eyes for sure til she wakes up, so let’s not stress out, okay?” It was probably something Mom would say, and I knew what I was saying was true. There were a lot of unknowns right now. Dad looks at me mid-gesture, freezing in place. For several seconds, there was silence.

Shinso’s voice breaks the silence. “She’s right. Mr. Yamada, we can’t know Mrs. Yamada’s condition fully til she wakes up, so please. Just sit, drink this, and calm down.” He had a cup of what smelled like chamomile tea. Dad takes it and sits, sipping it gratefully. I then notice Eijiro entering the room, as well. I smile.

“Hey. Finally let you come back here, huh?” He nods.

“Yeah. How you doing?” I sigh.

“Better now I’ve had some painkillers, but it still hurts to move. The bones in my leg were badly damaged, the doctor said, and my ribcage almost collapsed, apparently. But as long as I get some rest and healing from Recovery Girl, I’ll be okay.” Eijiro looks away.

“You’re so brave, Takara.” I blush and blink several times. He thought I was brave?

“What?” He turns his head and I see a sheepish smile on his face.

“Well, yeah. You fought off those villains, and you fought through the pain, still trying to help. That takes a lot of guts.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”

“Don’t be. You got me out of the way. I couldn’t walk with my legs and ribs.” Dad winces, sipping the tea before speaking.

“I was told you were involved in the fight Shota was in with the villains. That true?” I nod.

“Yessir. One of the villains, a guy with a warping Quirk named Kurogiri, decided to scatter all of us around the building. I think he knew I was a Yamada, and sent me to Mom as a way to unbalance her.”

“Can you tell me more about that?” Comes a new female voice. I look over to see a police officer standing in the doorway. “Hate to interrupt, but I’m Officer Haragan, and I need to get this young woman’s statement, and I was hoping Eraserhead would be able to give one, as well, but I see I’ll have to wait.” Her eyes flick to Mom’s bed, a wince almost hidden by her wild half-buzzed brown hair as she walks over.

“Okay, Officer Haragan.” I reply. Dad offers the officer the seat and she took it, drawing out a recording device.

“Is it okay if I record this conversation?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Officer Haragan nods, clearing her throat.

“Officer Haragan, recording Takara Yamada’s statement regarding the attack in the Unforeseen Simulation Joint today at UA High School.” She begins, leaning a little toward me. “So, if you please, Ms. Yamada, can you start at the point the villains arrived?” I nod.

“Of course. We were just about to start the rescue training we were supposed to be doing, despite All Might not being able to be there as planned, but as soon as we did, we noticed the lights going out, then I happened to look down at the fountain in the middle of the different rescue simulation areas. I saw it flickering on and off before a swirling mass of purple smoke I later knew was a warpgate appeared. I warned Mom- -I mean, Eraserhead, who was teaching the class with 13- -” The officer smiles and motions for me to continue, “and she turned as several villains came out of the widening warpgate. Mom instructed us to stay with 13 and got ready to fight, and then after my friend, Izuku Midoriya, protested, Mom went to fight the group.” I swallow, taking a breath to collect myself as I continue. This was kinda hard to describe so soon after it happened. As I got to the moment Nomu slammed me into the ground, I had to stop and try to steady my heart rate, which had spiked as the memory flashed in my head on repeat. Dad gently grabbed my hand and I squeeze it gratefully. I continue my descriptions and keep myself relatively composed, looking squarely at my sheets, unable to watch everyone’s reactions. Dad’s hand grew tighter around mine, and I hear gasps and shifting as I get to the more intense parts. Once I’m done, I realize there are tears in Dad’s eyes again, and that Eijiro and Shinso are staring at me, expressions unreadable. Officer Haragan blinks a few times, then clears her throat again.

“That’ll be all, Ms. Yamada, unless there’s something else you want to add to your statement?” I shake my head.

“No, there’s nothing else I need to add. I hope my statement helps the investigation.” I reply. Officer Haragan ends the recording and stands, smiling at me.

“I’m sure it will. You’re a very, very brave girl, Takara. Get some rest now, okay?” I smile back and nod.

“I will. Thank you.” Once we’re alone, Shinso moves closer.

“I had no idea it was that bad, Takara. You could’ve died.” He whispers, and I swear there are tears in his eyes. I sigh.

“It was pretty scary, but all I wanted was to protect Mom...and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t get us out of the way, and then I got too hurt to fight back when Mom was attacked by Nomu.” I whimper, tears surfacing again. I sniffle, but then Dad’s arms are around me and it’s thanks to the painkillers that I don’t flinch or feel much of anything in my ribs.

“Sweetheart...you did amazing! You held your own against all those villains and used your Quirk very well. There wasn’t anything else at all you could have done, and don’t let anyone or yourself tell you otherwise, got it?” he’d pulled back to lift my chin up so we were looking each other in the eyes and I could see how serious he was. I sniffle and nod, tears leaking down my face.

“I just...watching Mom get hurt...it hurt more than my ribs or my leg.” I sob.

“I could say the same about my face and my arms.” Comes a very weak, muffled version of my mom’s voice. Instantly, everyone turns to look at her. I can’t tell if her eyes are open through the bandages, but she has her head turned to us. “Takara, please do not beat yourself up for how you handled that battle. You were amazing. The only one to blame is Nomu and that disintegrating villain.” I squirm, picking at my sheets guiltily. I didn’t deserve what everyone said about how I fought...I was useless!

“But, Mom...I was trying to protect you, and I couldn’t, and you got hurt and- -”

“Kara, stop. There’s no point arguing with me. You couldn’t have fought harder and my condition is not your fault.” I wipe my eyes.

“Thanks, Mom.” I mumble, hiccuping, which hurt a lot.

“Now, stop crying and call the doctor. I need to get these bandages off my eyes.” Dad stands and we exchange a worried glance.

“Shota...there was a lot of damage to your orbital floors. Recovery Girl is on her way. Please, let’s wait til she gets here and heals you to test your vision.” I hear Mom hum in thought.

“...You’re right. We should tell the doctor I’m awake, though.” I nod.

“The police might want to take your statement, too.” I muse. “An officer stopped by and I gave my statement.”

“I see. That’s good. As a pro hero and teacher, they might want me to give my statement, as well.” I take a breath.

This was okay. We’d been hurt, but we were healing, we were together, and that’s what matters.

#Fanfiction #OC Insertion Series #MHA #BNHA #OC #Original Character #Original Female Character #Takara Yamada (OC)#Eijiro Kirishima #Eijiro Kirishima X OC #Eijiro Kirishima/Takara Yamada

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nega-aria · 6 years

Note

For the Fanfiction Writer Asks: 20-25 and 35-41 😊

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

Nope, believe me if I did I would have edited them already. I have an editing obsession XD Writing endings is always something I put a lot of thought and heart into because it’s the last thing you leave people with so I like it to have that special impact. Plus, I just love the parts of the story when I have a good excuse to be dramatic lol.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

Um, definitely you @rebellingstagnationblog! I hate to say I haven’t had a chance to read as much of your stuff as I should, but your prose is beautiful and has such depth, and it is definitely something to be admired ♥ It really sucks me in and that’s the best part of any story. @aj-the-bluejay definitely deserves kudos too for tackling those slice of life type stories that just put such a smile on my face and of course an extra special shout out for always being so supportive of other writers because that’s just awesome ♥

There are definitely other people that I’m sure deserve props, but I am pathetically behind on stories that I want to read, so for those of you out there cranking out these stories purely out of love, keep doing what you’re doing because the fandom adores you for it!

Special shout out to @volcanicfires and @justbirdfurrythings for being my partners in crime on a couple stories. I freaking love you guys ♥

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Ooooh yeah, lol. Basically everything from when I first started writing makes me cringe. Part of me wants to go back and fix those older stories so bad, but part of me wants to preserve them as part of my past so I do my best to just let them be as they are.

One of these days Screw the Bassist is gonna get a proper mass edit though, because that poor thing is stuck between old story and not so old story so it has gone through some serious growing pains over the years.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

Uh, neither I guess? I am not a person who likes complete silence very much so I usually have some sort of background noise going on but it’s generally some show or movie that I’ve seen a million times or otherwise don’t care about paying attention to. I do occasionally write in silence though, and I very much prefer that to trying to write with music going on.

(don’t ask me why listening to Gordon Ramsey swear and smash fish is better than music, because I don’t have an answer for that)

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Fucking fantastic XD

Honestly, I have a hard time writing fully G rated stuff which I’m sure limits my audience, but showing that intimacy and the emotions that go into is one of the things that makes me the most happy when I’m writing. I mean, someone has to provide for the fandom so it might as well be me. Quite frankly, I’m proud to give that to the people out there that I know want it (and you know damn well there’s people that don’t admit they want it) because I think it’s important for people to see beyond the dangly parts and appreciate sex for the loving, bonding experience it should be.

Embrace the sex people! It’s a beautiful thing.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

No, but I got pretty emotional when I ended Screw the Bassist because that was seriously like watching my 6 year old child finally grow up, and I have gotten a little teary eyed discussing a certain story with a certain someone who knows who they are ♥

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

I refer back to that certain someone who knows who they are because yes, they know literally everything about all my stories. I have a hard time completely keeping my ideas to myself, but some things will never see the light of day. Because reasons.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

You bet! Have some Gravesbeaks kidnapping AU because the world needs more dramatic angst.

Falcon’s brow furrowed and the angry scowl on his face wasslowly pulled into a more concerned frown as he scrolled through what felt likehundreds of text messages that grew increasingly worrisome the further hedelved into them. Mark had never taken the game this far. Sure, Falcon hadalways responded before he could really drag things out so much, but still,those messages were disconcerting in the worst possible way, and it had himseriously wondering if he had just made a very grave mistake. They came fromdifferent backup phones, and Falcon could tell. It was as if Mark was cyclingthrough them until he hit the last which sent only one message.

Falcon swallowed nervously as he put the phone to his ear tocheck the one and only voicemail that Mark had bothered to leave, refusing toacknowledge his own nervous shaking as he listened intently. What he heard hadhis heart racing. If this really was a prank, it was a wildly elaborate one.There were no real words only painful cries, a furious slew of muffled threats,and something that was far too similar to the sound of breaking bones forFalcon’s liking. The message ended abruptly with the only word that Falcon wasactually able to pull from the murmured mess of voices: dead. As in “you’regonna be” or “you’ll wish you were” and neither of those possibilities wereparticularly appealing to Falcon.

One more time Falcon tried to convince himself that this wasjust a prank. Once again he was repeating to himself that this was just a game,but the longer he sat there stunned and clenching his phone in shaking fingers,the less it sounded like a joke. If it was, it definitely wasn’t funny.

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

Roleplay. No contest. Drake seriously needs to write cringy romance novels. You know he’d rock that shit. (that link is nsfw btw so be warned)

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

@justbirdfurrythings and she knows why ♥

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?

Third person all the way. I have written in first person but not in a long time and never for fanfiction.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

Yes, my brother (because he’s nosy) and my fiance both know I write fanfiction. No one else irl is aware of it.

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written?

Oh boy, toss up between NegaLP and Falcon Graves, but I guess I have to go NegaLP because I just adore writing dialog for that immature jerkbag. And when he’s around that means Negaduck is showing some delightfully deep emotions and that’s just icing on the cake.

… but then again my Gravesbeaks stories are super special to me so writing Falcon is very close to my heart… we’ll call this a tie. I love my semi jerky beefcakes.

#aria answers #ask meme #get to know me #writing meme #fanfiction #my stories #rebellingstagnationblog #long post #dwd #ducktales

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dang-misha · 6 years

Photo

Request – Hey can I have an imagine where the reader is in her first falls count anywhere title match and Matt Hardy (her best friend) is watching the match backstage. However, as the match goes on she gets seriously injured, but she’s to stubborn to give up- which causes Matt to go out and comfort her, revealing his feelings for her in front of the whole wwe universe. Sorry that was long but I love your writing!! Also, I understand if you’re not feeling well or up for it. I’m not pushing you

Word Count – 1605

Warnings – Injury?? Mention of blood

A/N – I love, love, love this idea! I sadly couldn’t find a gif of Matt so I just had to use a normal pic. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the request! (requests are always open. I write supernatural, wwe, greys anatomy, and the walking dead imagines.)

Tonight is a big night for you. You’re main eventing Raw with Charlotte Flair for the women’s championship and winning it! You cried tears of joy when Vince announced the news to you. The first person you told was your best friend Matt Hardy.

You and Matt have been best friends since you both started your careers. You used to be tag team partners and you just connected so much more since then. You guys helped each other with everything. You’ve helped each other with every heart ache, every injury and so on. When he found out Lita cheated on him and when he lost his job with wwe you were his rock through it all.

“You ready for tonight?” Matt said behind you, making you jump

“I’ve been ready for this forever it feels like.”

“You deserve it more than anyone I know. You work your ass off, it’s about time your hard work gets paid off.”

You both sat and watched the monitor until it was almost time for your match. You made sure everything was right with your gear, boots and wrapped some tape around your hands.

“Hold on, I want to do something.” Matt said, pulling a sharpie out of his pocket.

“You’re braver than you think, you got this champ.” He wrote on the tape, making you teary eyed. You gave him a big hug, a thank you and before you knew it you got called to wait at the curtains.

Your theme blared through the arena. You could feel your heart racing what seemed like a mile a minute. You’ve wanted this your entire career and now it’s finally time. Time to show the world why you deserve to be champion.

You stood in the ring and watched as Charlotte walked down the ramp and all you could do was look at the title. You couldn’t wait to have it around your waist. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever saw. It’d look even better when it’s on your shelf.

The match was going well. Since it was a falls count anywhere match you could basically go wherever you wanted which made it a lot of fun. You fought in the crowds, on the announce table, backstage for about 10 minutes and on the ramp.

Charlotte was doing a moonsault which she’s very good at. She never messes up on it and you trusted her. You were laying on the announce table, waiting for her to hit the move then when she finally did everything went black. You felt an instant horrible pain all over your face, especially your nose. Charlotte landed the move but she landed it right on your head.

The ref panicked, asking doctors to come quick because your nose was gushing blood and your eyes were swelling up in seconds. You were injured in the most important match of your career.

Matt felt like he was going to throw up he was so scared. He wanted to be there with you, to make sure you’re ok.

You pushed the ref away, telling him you weren’t finishing this match just because of an injury. The match went on for about 10 more minutes but Matt could tell you were horribly concussed and your nose was broken. He watched as you wobbled and messed up every move but still didn’t give up. He watched as the blood poured down your face, getting inside your mouth so much that you kept spitting it out which isn’t good especially since you’re on a PG show. You were in trouble for sure.

You hit a twist of fate on Charlotte and finally the match was over. You were happy, but the injury was making it hard for you to enjoy any of it which broke your heart.

You sat in the ring with the title in your hands, holding it up high while putting on a fake smile. Your legs got weak so you sat down in the corner, taking this moment in as much as you could when you felt a few tears slip down your cheek. You weren’t sure if it was form pain or from happiness. Maybe both?

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the crowd chanting “you deserve it!” over and over again. It was an awesome feeling.

You opened your eyes to see Matt standing in the middle of the ring, tears in his eyes as he smiled at you. He helped you up and gave you a huge hug. You cried while whispering to him “I’m scared.” He hugged you tighter.

He went over and grabbed the microphone, leaving you confused.

“Y/N, congratulations! You’re finally the champion after 18 years of hard work and I couldn’t be more proud. I know this isn’t how you planned tonight on going, I know you’re scared and I’m sorry but I got a few things to say that might cheer you up a little. So you know we’re best friends. That’s a fact. You’ve seen me at my worst and never left my side not once. You never left when I had problems with drugs, when Lita tore my heart apart, or when I was injured. You were front row at all my huge matches like when I first won the tag team titles with Jeff or when I returned at Wrestlemania you were there and I can’t put into words how much you mean to me. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you, and I know you know but I mean more than a friend. I want to be yours, I want us to be together. Please y/n, please love me too.”

It was hard to move fast due to your concussion but that didn’t matter at all at that moment. You got up, quickly walked up to him, grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as you could. You could feel him smile between it, making you smile too. The crowd was screaming so loud you thought the roof was going to blow off. For a few moments you forgot about how much pain you were in.

“I love you, I love you so much and I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” You said, giving him another kiss.

When you got backstage the doctors checked on you right away. It was like you didn’t even have time to celebrate. Matt held your hand the whole time you were getting checked out. Every time he’d notice you flinch or groan from pain he’d rub his thumb on your hand, letting you know it’s ok.

“She got you pretty good, y/n. Sorry I know this isn’t how you probably wanted to celebrate your first title win.” The doctor said

“So your nose is broke and you have a concussion. You should be out for about a month, but good news you don’t have to relinquish the title!” He doctor smiled, making you really happy.

“Thank you doctor, we really appreciate it!” You smiled, giving him a hug then Matt a kiss after.

Matt took you out for pizza after.

“I know this isn’t fancy, I’m sorry.”

“Matt, I really don’t mind. I love pizza better than “fancy food” anyways” You chuckled, making him smile. God you loved his smile.

“So how long have you loved me?” You asked, making him blush.

“For years. The second I met you I knew you were going to be someone special in my life. Especially after all the crap we’ve been through and you still put up with me? You’re amazing.” He kissed your hand after.

You guys finished your pizza and headed back to the hotel. You both always shared a room but never shared a bed unless you had to. It felt nice to not worry about that anymore.

Matt bought you a few ice packs at the pharmacy along with some medicine to help with the pain. He made sure to keep the lights low so it wouldn’t hurt your head. You appreciated him so much.

“You took care of me for a long time in my life, now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

You two got ready for bed, snuggling with each other felt amazing. You were getting ready to fall asleep until you remembered something

“Hey Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Can baby sleep with us tonight?’

“Who’s baby? What?” He was half asleep, you tried your best to not crack up.

“Baby is my title.” He sighed of relief, chuckling after

“Oh, yeah. As long as you leave room for me.”

You grabbed your belt and wrapped it around your arms while Matt wrapped you in his arms. Both of you falling asleep shortly after.

#wwe #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #matt hardy #matt hardy imagine #matt hardy x reader #matt hardy fluff #matt hardy wwe #wrestling #wrestlers #professional wrestling

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