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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months

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The Only Reason

➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.

Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)

Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited.

Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it.

Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to.

If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed.

Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing.

Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case. “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”

Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you.

It wasn’t even worth it. Ada.

He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you.

It really wasn’t.

He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his.

Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone.

As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home.

He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living.

Four months.

It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you.

“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”

Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”

He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here.

And he wanted to see you so badly.

“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”

He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room.

All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze.

You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings.

Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by.

You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him.

Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?”

Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards.

Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”

Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan.

Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now.

Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen.

Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,”

Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be.

That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy.

“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips.

Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”

He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”

Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”

“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,”

“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”

You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,”

Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.

While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had.

All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be.

Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you.

He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking.

But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.

An apology would be a good place to start, right?

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”

He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.”

You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”

“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.”

You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”

Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”

Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth.

He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”

Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too.

At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes.

What if….for just one more night…what if.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.”

Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.

“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”

He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Just one more night.

You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were.

Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this.

Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own.

He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different.

Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be.

His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that.

Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it.

Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth.

Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.”

You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”

It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”

“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”

He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”

You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself.

You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada.

Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope.

A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago.

As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”

You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,”

Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”

You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”

Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back.

He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago.

It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish.

He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist.

Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it.

But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite.

He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted.

Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out.

“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.”

Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time.

Maybe he didn’t have to.

You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place.

He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.

“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house.

Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head.

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”

Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,”

And it was the truth.

And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall.

You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again.

Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”

Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”

Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered.

Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”

“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”

Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”

You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore.

You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again?

You couldn’t take much more. You knew that.

“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”

Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”

He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”

“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”

You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”

“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again.

You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”

Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”

He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point.

But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #re4 leon #leon smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader #angst

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evermourning · 2 months

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timeless - yang jeongin ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

pairing: yang jeongin x implied afab!reader

genre: romance, multiuniversal!au, non idol!au, tons of different scenarios

warnings: language, infidelity, making out!!, suggestive, mentions of injuries/violence/war, jeongin being too perfect, based off of timeless by taylor swift

wc: 4k

summary: no matter how many lifetimes you'll live, yang jeongin will always find his way back to you. no matter the cost.

a/n: so sorry for my lack of posts! i am busy working on a BIG project 😈 this and one more oneshot will come out within the next few weeks! also, i referenced a previous jeongin fic in here! can you find it? ;)

The estate of Duke Christopher Bahng, 1521.

You sit at the long table, the revels of nobles and partygoers have become a muffled cacophony blocked from your ears. At the end of the table, Chris offers you a sheepish smile.

I apologize, he mouths, his dimples visible on one perfect cheek, I know you don't like loud noises.

It's not that Chris is a bad guy. He has never been cruel to you. In a world where someone like you has absolutely no choice in who you'll end up marrying, being engaged to Duke Bahng is one of the luckiest things you've ever endured. Chris is compassionate and sweet, and doesn't treat you like chattel.

But yet, the more time you spend with his ring suffocating your finger, you feel guilt slither over each bone in your ribcage until it has enraptured your heart, squeezing until you are absolutely sure it will bust if you exhale. You have to let him down. You'll have to tell him, one day, that you cannot love him the way he adores you.

Because you are madly in love with his younger brother, Jeongin.

At every single event like this, he is the anchor that keeps you grounded. When Chris looks away to laugh loudly and clap his best friend, Jisung, on the back, you steal a glance at Jeongin.

He looks so mature tonight. He wears a striking navy doublet threaded with gold, the colors of the Bahng family's coat of arms. Beneath it, his white sleeves are puffy, basically hiding his large hands. And as he smiles at you, you make a mental note of how his face is as perfect as ever.

His eyes cause you to melt the moment you meet his gaze. They are a deep brown, yet they glimmer with a resolute air of warmth, almost as if they are the light at the end of the tunnel that you've been searching for all along. His hair is dark and wavy, combed neatly. You know this because you had to wrestle with him for a good ten minutes before he conceded and allowed you to comb his hair.

Nobody in here knows your dirty little secret except you. And Jeongin, of course.

Normally, if it were anywhere else, he'd make subtle glances across the table, knowing just what to do to have you blushing in an instant. But tonight, he cannot. Because tonight, he is seated at Chris's side, a reminder that at the end of the day, he will never be able to live a comfortable life with you.

In the ebony depths of Jeongin's darkest nightmares, he sees you married to Chris, intent on creating a family and a home with him. He sees in his head your words of venom towards him as you push him away for his more talented and intelligent brother. The very idea of you consummating marriage with Chris has him waking up in a cold sweat.

But once the moon rises in the east, casting a dim, silvery light onto the polished courtyard stones, you are swept into a labyrinth of gardens until Jeongin is positive the two of you will not get caught.

The moment he is certain, his lips are on yours.

Jeongin is practically clawing at you, desperate for the saccharine sweetness of your lips. His long fingers entangle themselves in your hair, as if gripping onto the delicate strands will allow him to maintain some sense of human decency. The more his lips crash against yours, bruising and biting them, the more he can feel himself deteriorating into something almost primitive.

It is completely discourteous of him, of both of you, to let this behavior run amuck. You should feel some ounce of shame for sneaking around behind your husband-to-be's back with his younger brother, of all people. And yet, you cannot. Every muscle and bone in your body aches devastatingly, yearning for the boy you cannot have.

So you will continue to be two-faced. You are the perfect partner for Chris in the daytime, listening to him talk and guide you through life. But you'll always wake in his brother's bed. You'll always pen passionate sonnets to his brother and receive equally fervent soliloquies in return.

And when the time comes, you will write a note to Chris profusely apologizing for never loving him truly the way he cared for you. You will push down your fears about risk as you allow Jeongin to hoist you over stone walls draped in ivy in the loneliness of evening, hands intertwined as you run towards a new life together.

Nobody ever said finding your soulmate was supposed to be easy.

California, USA, 1849

The winter has been long, but you pulled through. Coming here was not easy, across barren prairie and looming mountains with barely enough food to survive. But it has paid off, in many more ways than you'd imagined.

When the news spread like wildfire about the possibility of gold on the West Coast, you were a little unsure if it was true or not. You didn't want to leave behind everything you knew for something hypothetical. But your husband believed. He hoped for a better life, not wanting to be the reason you were so blue. So you took your infant son, just the three of you, and went west.

You stand now in front of a beautiful house on the coast. It is two stories, preposterous for someone of your family's class, and is painted clean and white. The shutters are painted in hues of periwinkle, kindling a fire inside your heart.

Vividly in your dreams you remember first marrying Jeongin. He was scared he couldn't provide a life for you, for the one who had such a tight grip on him since he was a small boy. He knew his family wasn't wealthy, and he didn't want you to leave him, so he jumped at the chance to try and change that.

He believes God was on his side that day, after scorching hours mining and waiting by the river looking for something even akin to gold. Soil was etched into his fingernails, and his skin was tan from all the time in the sun. But he kept going, for you, and he found a hunk of gold.

It is worth it to him, seeing the delight on your face when he reveals to you the house he built himself. You were sixteen when you met him, dreaming of a big house on the water with white siding and blue shutters, and those dreams have come true.

Every single thing inside the home he’s created for your family has been created lovingly by hand. All the furniture on the inside has been built too, just for you.

You stand outside of it beside him, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. Your son is held tightly to your chest, and Jeongin wraps one arm tightly around your waist. You lean into him, a warm smile encompassing your facial features.

"Oh, sweetheart," you practically let out a broken sob. You cannot even begin to fathom the multitudes of love that seeps out of Jeongin when it comes to you. He adores your very existence, believes he's blessed by it.

It only makes sense that if Jeongin had any sort of divine powers, he would part seas and move mountains if they were ever a hazard to you. He has built you a home out of the ground, for fuck's sake.

It has been made inadvertently clear to you that you are so lucky that a man like Jeongin loves you.

Somewhere on the front lines of the Allied Forces, 1944

The world did not look this barren ten years ago.

Once luscious fields of verdant vegetation have now become trampled earth, soiled with fragments of weapons and bones. No longer do children play here. No longer do the birds sing. The only sound that will reach your ears anymore are the explosions and the screams.

Jeongin is relieved that he has temporary salvation. He sits upon a creaky cot in the medical tent, the clamor of the room still better than any battlefield. He sighs, and unbuttons the first two buttons on his uniform, rolling up the sleeves. There's a gash that hurts like hell down his forearm, thanks to the grenade he practically dove in front of to save his unit, and he's been waiting to get it wrapped.

His stomach lurches, however, as screams intensify. The 25th Infantry was ambushed. Doctors and nurses surround the soldiers carried in, and they start looking for empty beds. Time is running out, and so is availability.

His arm throbs, and he groans, clenching his teeth. Everything feels hazy. As Jeongin swims in and out of consciousness, he can hear the voice of the head doctor over him.

"Someone treat this boy. We ought to get him out of here for space."

He doesn't hear the rest, as everything goes black.

"Oh no, this won't do at all." someone tuts, and Jeongin blinks wearily. A doctor is standing above him, writing about his condition on a clipboard. "Are you awake now, Yang?"

He looks up to see the face of an angel above him.

You smell like gardenias and vanilla and everything he's yearned for since he stepped onto that dingy plane to come fight here. Your hair is neat, your skin is glossy and not covered in soot (like so many people he's met before), and your medical uniform is pressed.

He's so busy staring at you in childlike awe that he forgets to answer your question. When you tilt your head, awkward silence forming an invisible barrier between you is when it finally hits him, and his cheeks turn the color of blooming roses.

"Oh, um, yes. I'm awake." he stammers. You smile, and reach for his arm.

"May I?" you ask softly, as if a loud voice will make the wound worse. Jeongin's heart skips a beat at your words. Just by speaking to him a few times, you've entangled him in your web. And Jeongin is making no attempt to escape. "It''ll only hurt for a second, dear. I just have to check it out."

He nods, exhaling shakily as you lift his arm to check how much motion he still has in it. Once that's done, you examine the laceration.

"And how did this come to be, hm?" you ask, applying ointment to the wound. Jeongin grunts, and you place another hand on his shoulder to ease him through it. He hates how vulnerable you make him, but the feeling of you taking care of him is so appetizing. It's not enough for him. He never wants to leave your side again.

"I was an idiot," Jeongin grumbles with heated cheeks. He can't lie to you, but the reason he's in here is stupid. "and there was a grenade the enemy planted in the ground. It was like a millisecond decision, but I tried to move it away from us and it exploded. Nobody got killed, but a shard of debris got stuck in my arm."

He notices you're listening to his story in astonishment. His cheeks grow redder and redder. You probably think he's an actual dumbass.

"Are you kidding?" you say once he's finished. "You're a hero, Lieutenant. You put your life on the line to help your fellow soldiers. That's so honorable. Goodness, now I feel honored to be operating on you!"

As you begin to dress his wound, you make small talk with him, and Jeongin realizes that you and him have so much in common. You're easy to talk to and so sweet. You even are from the same city as him, for fuck's sake!

Eventually, you have to leave to aid another patient, but you can't help but lean in to whisper into his ear.

"I'll see you around, Lieutenant."

Jeongin blushes as you say this, and yet, he's so confused why you're so keen on staying with him. You could've been doing it out of pity, and you could've been working on anything else. But you devoted your precious time to him. And that's what makes him all warm inside.

It's December of 1945, and Jeongin has officially been discharged from the military. It was a long war, but a victorious one, and every single person put in the effort necessary.

You were sent back in early summer, devastating Jeongin and you both. Ever since that day in the tent, you'd been inseparable. It truly was a sight, wasn't it? Young love, in the face of such tragedy. A doctor saving the wounded and a young soldier who could die at any moment.

Since returning home, you've busied yourself with volunteer work and anything that the people need. You've fallen back into the flow of working long shifts at the hospital. But one new thing - every week, you've sent a letter to Jeongin. He tries to send some back as often as he can, but he's a busy man. And it's worrying, isn't it? One day he could stop replying and you'd never know whether or not he was busy or the worst had happened.

But he'd survived, much to your relief, and you were ready to see him now.

The harbor is crowded with wives, children, and families, waiting to see their loved ones arrive safe and sound. It's beginning to snow rather dreadfully, and as you wrap your coat tighter around yourself, you hope that it doesn't delay their arrival.

Thankfully, your prayers are answered, and a loud horn blows as the ship comes into the harbor. Cheers erupt through the crowd, and people begin pushing forward, desperate to get to their person first.

You weave through the crowd and absolute chaos erupts the moment the first few people get off the boat. You're being tossed around, but you have to go find Jeongin no matter what. The sea of people is suffocating, and you trip over someone's foot trying to get closer. But someone wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

When you look up, you see Jeongin's easy smile. You squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around him and he spins you around with a wide smile as he pulls you in for a long, loving kiss. His lips were always meant to be on yours. This is obvious through the way they mold into yours every time your lips connect. And when he finally pulls back, still holding you tightly, he grins.

"God, I've missed you."

Miroh Preparatory School, 1958

It's a sunny day on campus. You look at yourself in the mirror, at your freshly bought clothes. You turn once, or twice, excited to see your hard work paying off. The moment you saw this top at the store, red and black and so tuff, you knew you had to have it. You'd saved up your allowance for so long.

Your alarm chimes, and you jog over to check the time and your eyes nearly shoot out of your head. You're going to be late! You check yourself out one more time in the mirror, clip on cherry-shaped earrings, and dash out the door.

You vault onto your bike, spurring the wheels and gears into action and sighing in delight as the sun kisses your skin. Its golden rays dapple the sidewalk in front of you, setting the scene for a beautiful morning. You just hope you're pedaling fast enough to get there in time.

As you cruise along, you catch sight of your destination: the campus's soccer field. You ride around the path a couple of times, to divert their attention and make it seem like you're not there for any specific reason. Once they don't care to look is when you can look for your crush.

Yang Jeongin. The very glue that holds Miroh's undefeated varsity soccer team together. The team's most talented goalie in school history, with a slightly muscular frame and a smile that can melt any gal's heart. You park your bike and dash towards the stands, where your best friend and ticket to victory is standing.

Jisung is popular, in the same group as Jeongin, but what separates him from the rest is that he is insanely unathletic. Because of this, he is merely Miroh's team manager. But what he lacks in athletic prowess he makes up for in musical talent, stealing the hearts of people everywhere with his songs.

The two of you make an unlikely pair, since him and his friends are popular as hell and you're you, but in all honesty, you love spending time with him. You've known him since you were little living right next door to him, with gangly legs and candy wrappers stuffed into your pockets.

Jisung is the key piece to your plan to go out with Jeongin. He's your wingman, knowing the feelings you harbor for the dark-haired boy. You've begged him to bring you up during conversations and to tell you what Jeongin says. What you've gathered so far is that he thinks you're pretty, smart, and a good person.

That's not a lot, to be fair. He's probably trying to be nice, since he doesn't know you all that well. But frankly, you don't give a shit, because Jeongin thinks you're pretty.

"Quit it, hon." Jisung snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of your lovesick daydreams. "Practice is almost over, and he wants to talk to you about something. You've got to focus."

Your heart excitedly skips a beat. Jeongin wants to tell you something?! You look out at the field, where he's stretching his arms, ready to focus as team striker Hyunjin slams a ball at him full speed. Somehow, like a madman, Jeongin calculates the way Hyunjin kicks and easily blocks it. You watch in awe. How the hell did he do that?

And then he looks over and notices that you're watching him, and if you squint, you're 50% sure his cheeks grow pink. What? Before you can even process it, he's focused on practice once more, leaving you to wonder if that minute encounter was even real.

"Did...did you see that?" you ask, prodding at Jisung's shoulder, but much to your dismay, he's making googly eyes at the student council president and her clique. You sigh. However, the gradually increasing sound of chatter begins to draw closer.

Practice is over. The eleven boys on the team are laughing and joking around with each other, and one by one they offer you at least a ghost of a polite smile. The final two are Chan, the team captain, and Jeongin, who seems flustered from the avalanche of praise his hyung bestows upon him.

When they reach you, Chan winks and pushes Jeongin in your direction before grabbing Jisung by the arm and walking away. You're standing here awkwardly with the boy you've been in love with for the longest time, waiting for what he's going to say.

"Um, Jisung said you needed something from me?" You ask, fiddling with the hem of your top. He's looking at you weird. There's something unreadable in his expression. Oh god, did Jisung let it slip about you drawing hearts around his yearbook photos?!

"Yeah, sorry...I know you don't know me all that well." Jeongin says sheepishly, smiling. You feel your face begin to burn up. The irony is apparent here. "We had geometry together, right? With Mr. Park?"

Of course you remember. That was the class where you fell head over heels for him. You sat behind him, giving you the ability to gaze at him adoringly. He was funny and smart, and brightened the room.

"Yeah, we did!" you smile at him. "But what do you need? I'd be happy to help." His cheeks grow pink at your words, and he becomes a blushing mess.

"So, um, you know how there's a school dance next week? For the homecoming game? I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date." he stammers. "See, I've had this crush on you ever since geometry. You haven't left my mind once."

You genuinely cannot tell whether or not this is a dream, as you nod excitedly and wrap your arms around him. Your high school sweetheart likes you back!

Decades later, you'll sit in a comfortable chair, showing your grandchildren this picture. It is of you and Jeongin, dated 1958, his arm wrapped languidly around you as you smile and laugh before the dance wearing coordinating colors. You'll remain hopelessly enamored with each other for the rest of your lives, creating a family and a home. Perfect for each other, as if the universe hand-crafted the string of fate that binds you with gentle, loving hands.

Seoul University, 2024

You'd rather be anywhere but here.

It's late, and your head is pounding from the loud music blasting around you. Hyunjin just had to drag you to one of his parties on a Friday night, which you were totally unprepared for. Now, you lean against the wall, absentmindedly swirling a drink you'd rather not touch.

Your internal silence is interrupted when a young man with ginger hair walks up to you. He wears a black tank top and jeans, and holds a red solo cup in one hand covered in rings.

"You seem lonely," he observes. You don't want to admit it, so you offer him a tight-lipped smile. "Mind if I offer you company?"

You've never met this man in your life. Yet something about him seems so...familiar. His existence is unbeknownst to you, but he's prominent already. And on his ring finger, strangely, he wears a silver ring with willow branches. Just like the one you have.

"Excuse me, have we met before?" you ask, absolutely bewildered. A fire lights up in his chocolate eyes. He reaches out to take your cup from you, placing it on a table nearby.

"Yes, we know each other. And we are meeting each other for the first time right now. My name's Jeongin." he says. And then you know. There's no proof that Jeongin is the one for you, but there's a feeling in your gut that you never want to be separated from him again.

"What...what do you mean, that we know each other?" you ask, intrigued. Jeongin chuckles, running a hand through his smooth hair. "I'm racking my brain here. I genuinely cannot think of a single interaction with you."

"Who knows?" Jeongin replies with a wink. "Maybe it was in a different universe. We could even be lovers."

You laugh at his goofy flirting, not thinking much of it. Jeongin seems like the type of guy you could see yourself having a true connection with.

"Well, let's see if that proves to be true." You look out over the droves of people dancing and come to the obvious conclusion that you would rather be anywhere but here. "I'm over this. Want to go grab something to eat?"

Jeongin gives you a smile that can only be classified as sugary sweet. He takes you by the hand, leading you out of the apartment until it's just the two of you. And you just feel so at ease with him. There is no place you'd rather be than beside Jeongin.

And there you will stay, no matter what. There's no use tampering with fate.

#ren writes!! <3 #stray kids #evermourning #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #jeongin #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids imagines #i.n skz #jeongin skz #jeongin x reader #jeongin stray kids #I LOVE TAYLOR SWIFT

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rainisawriter · 8 months

Text

One Day, You’ll Be Mine – Hitsugaya (PSF #12)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Prompt: Fire&Ice (@flufftober)

Word Count: 5,879

Pairing: Reader x Hitsugaya

World: Bleach

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You never believed in love at first sight until you met Hitsugaya Toushirou. The second those beautiful teal eyes met yours, you were hooked, willing to give him whatever he wanted. Hell, if Yoruichi hadn’t been there to stop you, you would have willingly surrendered to him.

The thing is, he didn’t feel the same way. It was quite the opposite, actually.

You had been with Ichigo’s group when they broke into the Soul Society to save Rukia and you had the bad luck of running into Hitsugaya not once, but twice. The first time was purely by accident.

You had been trying to find your way, completely lost within the maze of pathways, and you ran right into him. Or perhaps he had stumbled upon you and seized the opportunity before him.

The second your eyes met, you felt a swarm of butterflies inside your gut. Your heart raced within your chest, but it wasn’t fear at facing down a captain. It wasn’t excitement at getting to fight a captain, either. What was it, then? You had this strong urge to protect him despite him needing no such thing.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was a captain with an incredible zanpakuto. He was not someone that needed to be protected, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to.

“I don’t want to fight you,” you told him, holding your hands up in surrender.

His teal eyes narrowed at you suspiciously. You had broken into the Soul Society, taken out many soul reapers and caused a lot of damage, yet you didn’t want to fight? He wasn’t buying it. “Then surrender.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, stepping closer to him. “I surrender.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. You had come all this way, caused all this trouble, just to surrender? He wasn’t buying that, either. He believed it had to be a trick.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“None of your business.” He replied, lifting his hand. “Bakudo number 4, Hainawa!” A rope of yellow energy shot from his hand, rushing toward you with the intention of restraining your arms.

“What are you doing, idiot?!”

You grunted when Yoruichi, still in cat form, barreled into you, knocking you out of the way before the spell could reach you. You scowled at her, rubbing your side where she had headbutted you. “What the hell, Yoru? That hurt!”

“Good!” She hissed, yellow eyes focused on the captain that was watching the two of you closely. “I specifically told you not to fight with the captains. You’re too reckless, you and Ichigo both!”

“I wasn’t even fighting him! I was surrendering.”

“That’s worse!” She hissed again, fur raised as she raised her paw, swiping her claws across your face.

“Motherfu -” you winced, covering your cheek with your hand. “That was uncalled for!”

Her eyes snapped to the male seconds before he appeared in front of you, unsheathing his zanpakuto. Your body reacted on instinct, pulling your zanpakuto from your hip to block the blow, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing through the open area.

“We need to go,” growled Yoruichi as she jumped onto your shoulder. “Now!”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, focusing your power. Flames erupted across the blade, extending toward him. He reacted quickly, using shunpo to put distance between the two of you. Within that short span of time, you had disappeared.

The second time you ran into him was during his battle with Ichimaru Gin.

Rather than running into him by accident, you had felt his reiatsu flaring and rushed toward him without a second thought. As soon as you saw the two exchanging blows, anger coursed through you, your reiatsu fluctuating in reaction to it. This caught the attention of both men.

Despite Yoruichi yelling at you not to, you charged at Gin, eyes flaring red as flames engulfed your zanpakuto.

“Get the fuck away from him, you bastard!” You growled, slamming your sword against his. The flames shot from the sword as if they had a mind of their own, attacking him relentlessly but he dodged each time, a smirk on his lips.

“How curious. Why is the enemy protecting you, captain Hitsugaya?” questioned Gin, an amused tilt to his voice.

Hitsugaya couldn’t answer that, he could only watch you in confusion as you continued to attack Gin, your power steadily rising with each attack. He was toying with you, you knew, and that pissed you off more.

“Bakudo number one, Sai!”

Against your will, your body twisted, arms locking behind your back. Your zanpakuto hit the ground and you cursed in frustration.

“Thank you for the assist.” Gin’s smirk widened. “This will be easier now. Shoot to kill, Shinso.”

Your eyes widened as the blade of his zanpakuto extended rapidly toward you, giving you no time to react. Hitsugaya appeared behind you, grabbing you by the back of your shirt before using shunpo to dodge. The blade broke through the concrete where you had been just seconds ago.

“The enemy is restrained,” snapped Hitsugaya, glaring at the silverette. “Murder is uncalled for.”

He hummed, tilting his head to the side. “We were given the okay to kill on sight. Have you forgotten? Or perhaps… you’re working with the enemy.”

You scoffed. “He ain’t working with me. I work alone!”

“Oh? So you didn’t arrive with five others?”

Your eye twitched at being caught in a lie. “It’s cheaper to travel in a group!”

Gin laughed at the absurdity of the statement.

“Stop talking,” Hitsugaya muttered to you, clutching your shirt tighter.

Despite the insults you wanted to throw at Gin, you did as you were told, pursing your lips. Without a word, Gin turned on his heel and started to walk away.

“Hopefully, you don’t let the enemy escape a second time, captain Hitsugaya.”

When he was finally gone, Hitsugaya released the breath he had been holding. It was cold against the back of your neck, bringing goosebumps to your skin.

“Thank you for saving me, Hitsugaya,” you told him softly, tilting your head back so you could see him.

“Captain Hitsugaya,” he corrected you with a scowl, making you grin.

“Like captain Jack Sparrow!”

“Who?” His brow furrowed in confusion, having never heard the name before.

“When we finally start dating, I’ll show the movies to you. I bet you’ll love them.”

His pale cheeks turned red at your declaration. “W-What are you talking about?! We will never date!”

You pouted at him. “Don’t be like that, Hitsu.”

“My name is Hitsugaya Toushirou! Not Hitsu!”

Your eyes lit up and you quickly turned around to face him. “Rou-chan! How cute~!”

His blush darkened, a scowl on his lips. “Captain Hitsugaya!”

“Yes, yes,” you nodded. “It’s a very beautiful name.”

“S-Shut up!” He stuttered, turning his back to you in an attempt to hide how flustered he had become. He wasn’t used to anyone flirting with him or complimenting him and he wasn’t sure how to feel.

You didn’t fight him when he escorted you to the prison, you were just happy to be so close to him. He smelled like mint and vanilla, his body cooler than most people’s were. On the way, you kept stepping closer to him because you enjoyed the cold that his body offered, but he continually pushed you away, sending empty threats your way.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You poked your head into Hitsugaya’s room, checking for any guards before you slipped inside. His upper body was covered by bandages. You had heard that he was seriously injured, but you weren’t sure to what degree and no one would answer you when you asked.

You approached his bed slowly, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He was already a beautiful man, but when he was sleeping? He was absolutely stunning. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, a welcome change from the calculating expression he usually wore.

You reached out, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against his pale skin when his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. His eyes slowly opened and he glared at you, though it was half-hearted as if he didn’t have the energy to glare at you properly.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he grunted, voice husky from a mix of sleep and pain.

“Are you okay?” You frowned, eyeing the bandages across his chest. “What happened?”

He exhaled sharply, releasing your wrist. “None of your business.”

You clicked your tongue, folding your arms over your chest. “Still so cold, Rou-chan.”

Teal eyes narrowed at you, a scowl on his lips. “How many times do I have to tell you not to -” His words died when he clenched his teeth, wincing in pain.

“Calm down,” you scolded, resting your hand against his shoulder. “You’re gonna reopen your wounds.”

“I’m fine.”

“I definitely believe you, babe.”

Whatever retort he had died in his throat with that one word, cheeks burning bright red. He sputtered, eyes wide as his brain tried to process this. Before he could, though, there was a sudden murderous aura behind you.

Your body tensed up and you swallowed hard, feeling a heavy hand land on your shoulder.

Unohana was smiling despite the dark aura surrounding her. “You were told that captain Hitsugaya needs his rest, were you not?”

“Yes…”

“And you were repeatedly told not to bother him, were you not?”

You winced when her grip tightened. “Yes…”

“Yet here you are, bothering captain Hitsugaya and preventing him from resting.”

“I just wanted to see him,” you scowled. “If you had just told me – ow!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything, dear.” She tilted her head to the side, offering you a closed-eye smile as she nearly broke your shoulder. “Now, you’re going to do as you’re told and return to your friends, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Great.”

“Can I at least say goodbye fir -“

“No.” She tugged you roughly toward the door, forcing you out of the room.

You looked over your shoulder, meeting Hitsugaya’s teal eyes before the door shut in your face.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You sighed heavily, slumping over your desk with a frown.

Ichigo, sitting at the desk in front of you, felt his eye twitch in annoyance. “If you sigh one more time, I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“I miss him,” you muttered. “I want to go back.”

It was his turn to sigh now, shifting in his seat so he could look at you. “You know you can’t. He’s a soul reapers, the relationship would never work.”

You groaned, smacking your head against the desk repeatedly. “Life isn’t fair~”

“Will you stop that, idiot?” He scowled, grabbing the back of your shirt and forcing you to sit up. “You don’t even know him, how can you be so in love with him?”

“I don’t know,” you frowned, feeling your heart ache, longing to be near him again. “It’s like he put a spell on me or something. I love him so much that it hurts, Ichigo.”

The orange-haired teen frowned at the pain in your eyes, not sure how he could help you. “You gotta move on. We’ll probably never even see them aga-“

The door of the classroom was shoved open before Ikkaku, Yumichika, Rangiku, Renji and, finally, Hitsugaya entered the room, wearing the school’s uniform. As soon as you saw him, it felt as if everything else disappeared. It was just the two of you in the universe.

Your heart raced with excitement, the breath leaving your lungs as you rushed forward, nearly tripping in your haste. “Rou-chan!” You threw your arms around him, holding him protectively against your body despite his protests.

The use of the nickname, the fact that his feet were dangling above the ground because of the height difference, and the hug itself was overwhelming to him, especially since everyone was staring in surprise. His cheeks were burning, brain failing to form words.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear, fingers curling around his shirt. “I thought I would never see you again, I…”

His brow furrowed at the raw emotion in your voice and he didn’t miss the slight tremble it held at the end. He had given it a lot of thought since your first meeting and yet, he was no closer to finding an answer to the questions in his mind. He simply could not understand why you were so attached to him.

If he was being honest, a part of him liked it. It filled his belly with warmth and removed the tension from his shoulders. He knew you were an ally he could count on one hundred percent and that was comforting to him.

The more rational part of his brain, however, screamed at him to push you away. You were human, he was a soul reaper. You would grow old and eventually die, he would not. Not to mention the fact that it was against the law of the Soul Society for a soul reaper to fall in love with a human.

Despite how badly you desired him, he knew he had to be the rational one. Putting on an annoyed scowl, he pushed you away, teal eyes darkening. “Do not touch me again and stop calling me that ridiculous name!” His fists clenched at his sides, preparing himself for what he was about to do. “You are the single most annoying person I’ve ever met and I can’t stand you.”

Your eyes widened, filled with so much hurt that he had to look away.

“I will never love you,” he hissed before leaving the room. He could feel the pain rolling off you in waves as he walked away and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. He regretted it as soon as the words passed his lips, but he knew this was the right thing to do.

He was the rational one, the one who thought about the consequences before diving in, so he had to be the one to put a stop to this before it went any farther. Before he fell harder for you.

“Shit,” he cursed, leaning his hand on the wall and closing his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he believed you had taken his heart with you when you returned to the world of the living. He feared it was too late to take it back.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Get the hell up!” The door to your bedroom was slammed open by a scowling Ichigo.

“Let me die,” you muttered, the words muffled by the pillow your face was stuffed against. It had been almost a week since you stopped going to school. Hell, you hadn’t even left your room and he was sure you hadn’t been eating, either, which was very concerning because he knew how much you loved food.

He scoffed, stepping farther into the room with his arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is that going to solve?”

You shifted your head to look at him, dark bags under your eyes. “If I’m dead, I can’t feel the pain anymore.”

“Dumbass!” He snapped, smacking you hard upside the head.

“What the hell?!” You scowled, sitting up and holding your head. “Who goes and hits a depressed person?! Are you dumb?”

“You’re the dumb one! Your pain may end, but what about the people you leave behind, huh? Think about their pain!”

You winced at the pain in his voice, knowing he was thinking about his mom who had sacrificed herself to save his life. “I’m sorry, Ichigo…”

He swallowed, running a hand through his short hair. “It’s fine. I’m used to you saying dumb shit.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Have you heard some of the shit you’ve said? You’re no better than me, man.”

“At least I have moments where I say something smart,” he teased, making you laugh.

Once you started, you couldn’t stop, clutching your stomach. It was contagious, apparently, because he started to laugh, too.

Out in the hall, Hitsugaya leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. When he heard what you said, dread and fear filled him. He felt guilty because he knew he was the cause of your pain, his resolve beginning to falter. Why did he long to be the one comforting you? Why did he feel jealous of Ichigo making you laugh?

He swallowed hard, leaning his head back against the wall. He was losing control of his emotions and he hated it.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You and Hitsugaya were complete opposites in every conceivable way.

He was the type to take a step back, calculating the risks of whatever lay in front of him. He preferred having a plan, knowing something about the enemy before rushing blindly forward. His zanpakuto was an ice type and his personality reflected this, often appearing cold to others.

He was also a genius and there were few things he couldn’t solve. He remained calm and collected under most circumstances.

You were the type to rush forward without thinking, relying on your power and instincts to tackle whatever situation you found yourself in. You didn’t give a damn about who the enemy was or what power they had, you would still face them head-on. Your zanpakuto was a fire type and your personality reflected this, quick to anger and always heated.

You were far from a genius, often misreading queues and unable to solve a puzzle to save your damn life. Calm was not a word that existed in your vocabulary.

He often felt frustrated by your actions and your constant simping over him. He just wanted you to leave him alone, but you were completely infatuated by him.

You didn’t like believing in fate or destiny, but he changed all that. You were convinced that fate had led you into his arms, that you were meant to be. He was your soulmate.

Hitsugaya refused to believe in such things. He preferred to forge his own path, make his own choices. The thought that someone or something had charted the course of his life already was annoying and he refused to accept it.

He was not going to give in to you, no matter what happened. That’s what he repeated like a mantra inside his head every time he saw you.

And then fate intervened in the form of one Urahara Kisuke. Yoruichi had informed him about what had taken place between you and the snow-haired captain and, since he was quite fond of you, he chose to lend you a helping hand. He insisted that Hitsugaya stay at your apartment while he remained in the world of the living.

The captain adamantly declined, but no one else was willing to house him after Urahara had told them not to. He could have easily survived on his own, but he chose to use this as an excuse, acting as if he really had no choice but to stay with you.

He had expected you to be over the moon at this, clinging to him like mold on cheese. You surprised him by not doing this. You gave him space and when you spoke to him, you did so cautiously, not wanting to upset him again.

You realized you had been coming on way too strong which made him uncomfortable. Despite how badly your heart longed for him, you didn’t want to make him feel negative emotions so you did your best to control yourself. To your credit, you did well, slipping up only when you were excited or super worried about something.

Hitsugaya didn’t know how to feel. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? Why, then, did he long for you to hug him? To engulf his smaller body with your own? To see your lips form that nickname, to hear your voice speak it? It was driving him insane because he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You stifled a yawn as you climbed the stairs, stepping out onto the roof of your apartment building. The night sky was filled with stars, twinkling like tiny diamonds against black velvet. The autumn air was cold, the wind harsher up here than it was on the ground. You should have grabbed a coat.

Hitsugaya sat on the edge, his back against a metal air duct that ran across the length of the roof. His eyes were trained on the cell phone in his hand, keeping watch for any sign of hollow activity. He sensed you the moment you appeared.

“You should be asleep,” he scolded, not bothering to look up at you as you approached.

“How can I sleep if you’re not by my side?” You gave him a tired smile before settling down across from him.

He scoffed, a light dusting of pink crossing his cheeks.

You peered out at the city below. “It’s so peaceful up here. Hard to imagine a war is on the way.”

“Yeah.” His teal eyes fell on you when the wind picked up, feeling like ice against his skin. It didn’t bother him, of course, but he worried about you. “Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna,” you hummed, closing your eyes as goosebumps rose across your exposed skin. “I like the cold. It’s comforting.”

The words went straight to his heart, knowing the underlying meaning of those words. He tried to sound firm, but he knew his tone was softer than he intended. “It wasn’t a request, it was an order.”

You pouted at him. “Ordering me around like one of your subordinates, how mean, Hitsugaya.”

He winced at the use of his last name. He hated it coming from your lips and wished you would return to calling him Rou or even just Toushirou. “What are you doing?”

You stretched out your body across the roof, feet nearly touching his own. Using your arms behind your head like a pillow, you closed your eyes. “You told me to go to sleep, so I’m going to sleep.”

“I meant inside!”

“You didn’t say that, though.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was everyone in his life so damn complicated? “I’ll make you a deal.”

You opened one eye, peering at him curiously. “I’m listening.”

“Go inside and sleep in your bed,” he stressed, eyes narrowed at you. “And I’ll let you call me Rou.”

You shot up, wide eyes practically sparkling under the light of the moon above. “Really?”

Seeing how excited you were made him feel happy and he had to force back his smile. Honestly, the deal was just as much for himself as it was for you. “Yes.”

“No takebacks?”

Hitsugaya nodded.

“Pinky promise!” You held out your pinky, sending him a serious look.

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion, blinking at your outstretched pinky.

“A pinky promise is a binding contract. You can’t break it, no matter what,” you grinned, wagging your pinky at him. “Come on, Rou-chan~”

He sucked in a breath, heart fluttering at the nickname. It felt childish, but he leaned forward and locked his pinky around your own. “Pinky promise. Now go to bed.”

“Fine. Good night, Rou-chan.”

“Good night.” He watched you disappear back inside, finally letting his smile free. His hand rested over his heart, racing within his ribcage. “What the hell have you done to me?”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Two years passed by and the two of you only grew closer, much to the amusement of everyone around you who were all taking bets on how long it would be before the snow-haired captain finally broke. He was stubborn as all hell, but even he had his limits.

You had managed to bribe Urahara into sneaking you into the Soul Society so you could see Hitsugaya. The problem with this was that stealth was far from a strength you had and many soul reapers spotted you as you ran atop the buildings. The lower ranked ran to their superiors who just laughed it off, knowing full well why you had appeared.

You really didn’t mean to startle him when you threw open the door to his office, screaming his name. Perhaps it wasn’t the best approach because he jumped in surprise, papers flying everywhere.

“Oops, sorry,” you offered him a sheepish smile before beginning to gather the papers.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He snapped, teal eyes narrowed at you. “How did you get here?”

“Urahara helped me,” you replied simply, setting the stack back onto his desk. “As for the why, well, I missed you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. What didn’t you understand about how dangerous this was? Humans are not supposed to have feelings for a soul reaper. Though the feelings themself were not a crime, if anyone thought you were dating each other, you would probably be killed. He couldn’t bear the thought but you didn’t seem to care so long as you got to see him.

“Captain, is something – oh,” Matsumoto appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly when she saw you. She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you and squishing your face against her large boobs. “I’m so happy to see you again! How are you?!”

“Can’t… breathe…” you muttered, patting her arm repeatedly to try and get her to let you go.

“Oops,” she giggled, finally releasing you. “Sorry about that. I forget how powerful my girls can be sometimes!”

You snorted at the comment.

“Matsumoto,” called Hitsugaya, his voice stern.

“Yes, captain?”

“Take her home.”

“But I just got here,” you complained, frowning at the short male. “Rou-chan, I just want to -“

“I don’t care.” He closed his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. He had to put his foot down before you ended up getting both of you killed. “You are not allowed to come back here. That’s an order.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shoulders slumping. You wouldn’t fight back, though. Without another word, you turned and left the room. Matsumoto sent her captain a frown before rushing to catch up to you.

“Are you okay, hun?” She asked softly, resting her hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged, stuffing your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “I thought he was finally starting to like me, ya know? I thought…” you shook your head, forcing a smile. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to see me, I get it.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“Yeah…”

Hitsugaya wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when you didn’t show up again. In all the time he’s known you, you’ve always followed his orders even if you didn’t agree with them. You were completely loyal to him, after all.

He regretted the decision to send you away. A part of him longed to hold you, to have you run your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. He longed to be engulfed by your scent, your warmth.

“Damn it,” he muttered, setting the paper down and rubbing his eyes. He had been trying to read the damned thing for over an hour but he hadn’t retained any of the information, his mind too wrapped up with thoughts of you.

It was then that he decided he would come to you instead. There was always work to be done in the world of the living, though captains were rarely ever the ones to be sent to deal with it. He had leeway, though, and could find a plethora of excuses as to why his presence was needed there.

For someone as straight-laced as him, no one questioned the request.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Please be careful!”

You looked down at the small child standing at the base of the tree, tears filling her eyes as she looked up at you. You offered her a reassuring smile and a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, I got this!”

The this in question was climbing a large tree in order to save the girl’s cat that had been scared up there by a few rude boys in her class. The branches were completely bare, their leaves lying in piles of orange and brown at the base of the tree. The farther up you climbed, the thinner the branches became, threatening to break under your weight.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” you called softly. The small feline was trembling near the top of the tree, its claws dug deep into the wood and its eyes wide. “I’m here to help you, don’t worry.”

Its frightened meow only spurred you on.

You huffed out, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes as you extended your arm upward. You carefully grabbed the scruff of its neck with one hand, using the other to dislodge its claws from the wood.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe,” you breathed out, bringing the kitten to your chest. It was breathing heavily, claws digging into your skin through the t-shirt you wore. You winced in pain, biting your lip. It hurt like a bitch but you didn’t want to scold him knowing he was just scared.

There was a cracking sound beneath you and your heart dropped into your stomach when the branch gave way. The young girl cried out, tears falling from her eyes as she watched helplessly. You held the kitten as tight as you could without hurting him, prepared to take any amount of damage as long as he was unharmed.

You felt something hit you from the side, arms under your back and knees. You felt the familiar feeling of shunpo, nostrils filled with the calming scent of mint and vanilla. “Rou-chan,” you breathed out, looking up at him.

“Are you okay?” He questioned with worry, eyes scanning your body for any sign of injury. As soon as his feet hit the ground, the kitten leaped from your arms, rushing over to the child.

You winced, tugging down your shirt to see the damage. Your chest was littered with scratches, tiny beads of blood rising to the surface. They weren’t even that bad but there was just something about cat scratches that burned like a mother fucker.

The little girl picked up her kitten before rushing over to you, tears flowing down her red cheeks. “A-Are you okay?!”

You slid out of Hitsugaya’s arms, much to both of your displeasure, before kneeling in front of her. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!”

“A-Are you s-sure?”

“Positive,” you smiled, ruffling her hair.

“Thank you so much for rescuing Bob!”

“B-Bob?” you replied in surprise. “You named the kitten Bob?”

“Yeah!” she giggled, cuddling him to her chest. “Bye!”

You could only blink as she ran away, leaving you with many questions. When you stood up and turned toward Hitsugaya, he was scowling at you.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Pretty sure you can’t lose what you never had.”

“Why didn’t you use shunpo?”

You blinked dumbly, having completely forgotten about its existence. “Oh…”

“You’re hopeless,” he sighed, bringing his hand over his face.

“Hopelessly in love with you,” you grinned, loving the way his pale cheeks darkened.

“More like hopelessly an idiot!”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Has something happened?”

He had prepared the perfect excuse before arriving in the world of the living but, as he stood before you now, it was gone from his brain. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he found himself speaking from the heart rather than from the mind. “I came to see you.”

You looked at him in surprise, feeling warmth flood your body.

Hitsugaya was tired of running from his feelings. He was tired of pushing you away and pretending as if you meant nothing to him. He was tired of not being able to call you his, to hold you and shower you with the love he deserved. Rules, be damned.

He closed the distance between you, hand resting against the side of your neck.

“Rou-chan,” you breathed out, fingers gripping the front of his shihakusho to pull him closer.

“Do you really love me?” he questioned softly.

“More than anything else in this world.”

The sincerity in your eyes stole the breath from his lungs. “Then prove it. Kiss me.”

The corner of your lips twitched upward as you leaned closer, lips ghosting over his own. “Is that an order, captain?”

“Ye -”

Before he could finish the word, you claimed his lips with your own, hands on his hips to bring him snug against your own body. His lips danced against your own, cheeks dusted pink as his arms found their place around your neck. Neither of you wanted to pull away but the need to breathe consumed you and you had no choice.

Your forehead rested against his as you tried to catch your breath. “Wow…”

Hitsugaya pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, his words soft. “Are you sure you want this? I can’t promise I’ll be able to let you go if you change your mind.”

You chuckled, rubbing circles against his hip with your thumb. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He hummed happily, closing his eyes as his lips ghosted over yours once more. “I suppose we both have our answer, then.”

“Took you long enough,” you complained, making him chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I just… wanted to keep you safe.”

“I know. I love you, Hitsugaya Toushirou. I’ll love you until the day I die and then I’ll keep loving you from beyond the grave.”

His brow furrowed at the mention of your death. That’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I… I love you.”

“Finally!”

Your eyes widened at the sound of a familiar voice and you turned. Standing up from a large bush was a grinning Matsumoto. Beside her was a scowling Ikkaku, an amused Renji and a smirking Urahara.

“You owe me, Ikkaku! You lost the bet.”

Ikkaku scoffed, folding his arms over his chest before addressing the captain. “Ya couldn’t have held out a bit longer?”

“I’m just glad they finally confessed,” admitted Renji, giving the two of you a thumbs up.

Hitsugaya’s body tensed up, his reiatsu fluctuating as his anger rose.

“Rou-chan,” you sweatdropped, wondering if you should attempt to calm him down.

He pressed his hand against your stomach, gently pushing you back and out of the way. “I am going to kill all of you!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the small captain started to chase the three around, yelling at them about how they were disrespectful little shits who should mind their own business.

Urahara smiled at you, a silent congratulations for finally winning the heart of the man you loved most. You offered him a smile in return, feeling as if everything had finally fallen into place.

You and Hitsugaya were complete opposites in every conceivable way. Perhaps, though… that was the reason your relationship was so strong. He was everything you were not and vice versa, so you were able to make up for each other’s flaws in a way that wouldn’t be possible if you were similar in nature.

To you, that was a beautiful thing.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

#flufftober2023 #day 12 #bleach #hitsugaya toshiro #hitsugaya toushirou #RFO - PSF #RFO - PSF23 #anime #reader insert #reader x hitsugaya #bleach x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #writeblr #rains ficography

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jiangchengneedstherapy · 11 months

Text

So, looks like I've been blocked for saying Jiang Cheng's people were scared of him to ask him for help on the post about his 'good leadership' skill in Canon Jiang Cheng tag, I'm sorry I assumed that was up for discussion and I really was genuinely meaning for a discussion, and also @labyrynth I did get your notification of asking for source. The two main sources are "Arrogance (5)" and "Longing (3)" In Arrogance, we get Jiang Cheng's thought process highlighting that yes, he's captured people before even if zidian told him they were not body snatchers, the main crime he was capturing them under. A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn't. Zidian definitely wouldn't deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn't mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It's impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I've done things like this in the past anyways. After thinking it through, he made a gesture. The disciples understood his intention and came over.

The disciples are long used to it, that's further highlighted in "Malice (1)"

The owner was getting ready to close the shop for the night. Suddenly, seeing that a fancy-clothed, dark-faced young man kicked open the door and walked inside with someone in his hand, appearing as if he was going to disembowel the victim right here, the owner was so frightened that he couldn't speak. A disciple went up and whispered a few things in his ear. With some silver pushedinto his hands, he quickly fled to the back of the hall and never came out again. Without any further instructions, the Jiang Sect's disciples instantly spread out from the inside to the outside, making it so that nothing could enter or escape the place.

Of course the rumors will spread, the people are scared but no one interferes, how can they? The disciples are even used to giving money and making sure no one else can enter/no one can escape, even when they know zidian confirmed that he's not possessed. And then in "Longing" The owner, "That I'm not so sure about. Anyways, the temple's quite popular. In Yunping City, no matter what someone runs into, we'd all go there and pray for the Guanyin's protection. I sometimes go there and light a few sticks of incense too."

Wei WuXian asked, "Then why don't you go find the cultivational sect that's in charge of this region?" He only remembered after he asked. Wasn't the cultivational sect in charge of this region precisely the YunmengJiang Sect.

Yet, the owner curled her lips, "Go find them? How dare we?"

Wei WuXian, "Oh? Why not?"

The owner, "Young Masters, you're not from Yunping City so you don't know. The Jiang Sect is responsible for all of us along the Yunmeng area. The Sect Leader's got quite a bad temper. It's almost frightening. His subordinate's said so a long time ago. Only one sect is in charge of such a large area. Each day, there are almost a hundred cases of small ghosts or other creatures pulling pranks on the living and all that. If every single small thing had to be dealt with immediately, would there be enough time and energy? Those that don't kill anyone aren't malign spirits, and we're not supposed to disturb them with trivial matters that aren't malign spirits." She complained, "What is this supposed to mean? Wouldn't it be too late if we waited until somebody's died to find them?!"

In truth, to refuse to act unless it was a malign spirit was a silently agreed rule that all of the larger sects followed. Although 'to be wherever the chaos is' was praised by many, the only person who really followed this was Lan WangJi, the one beside him right now.

The owner continued, "On top of that, Lotus Pier is truly a scary place. How would anyone dare go there again?"

Wei WuXian moved his gaze from Lan WangJi's calm face with a short pause of surprise, "Lotus Pier is scary? How could Lotus Pier be scary? You've been there?"

The owner, "I haven't been there myself, but I know someone who went because his house was being badly haunted. But it was all bad luck. That Sect Leader Jiang was cracking a glowing whip right on the training field. The victim's flesh and blood flew as high as his screams! A servant secretly informed him that the sect leader caught the wrong person again, that he hadn't been in a great mood, and that he definitely shouldn't be irritated in any way. He was so scared that he dropped off the gifts he brought and fled at once.

He never dared visit again."

Here Jiang Cheng is highlighted as no different than other sects who don't help until someones dead, its common in their society to have little care for the locals but add his torturing habits on top, who would risk asking for help when they could be the next ‘wwx come back from the dead'? So what if zidian confirms they’re not? Sect Leader Jiang will do as he pleases.

I’ve seen this get dismissed as rumors a lot, but its not just rumors, if his thought process confirms it, if his disciples are long used to taking action around it, when his people walked in on it happening, and when they're long used to praying in the Guanyin temple for help than to approach him afraid of his temper.

#mdzs #canon jiang cheng #points #jiang cheng

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erina-leah · 1 year

Note

Hi, I just saw your recent dating headcanon and they are so cute! Could I request a little scenario when shanks manages to get his s/o to laugh in front of him for the first time and that leads to their first kiss?

Title: Third Time’s the Charm

A/N: That’s so nice of you to say!! Thank you sm! 🥹This scenario sounds super cute and I love it! We love our little red hair dork. I hope you don’t mind the personality that I gave the reader, I wanted the laugh to be extra special! Hope you like!

ANOTHER NOTE! Sorry this took SO DAMN LONG to come out! I had a bad fit of writers block and school was killing me and I didn’t want to put out anything that my heart wasn’t in. But here it is!!! I hope you enjoy <3

CW: fluff, mentions of alcohol, Shanks has a hangover, Shanks x GN!reader

Ever since you first joined the Red Hair pirates, you were always known for being quiet and stoic. You weren’t rude, and you surely weren’t devoid of emotion, but you were a very serious person when it came to the life of piracy. For a crew that loved to party often, you rarely let yourself fully unwind.

This was something that your spunky captain aimed to change. He didn’t want to change you, per se, but he had a very specific goal in mind. He wanted to hear you laugh.

He had realized not long after you joined that he had never truly heard you laugh. It was a quiet night, and the crew was settled around a campfire on a remote island telling stories. During moments filled with uproarious laughter, the most anyone could get out of you was a sharp exhale. He was originally worried that you were uncomfortable with the crew, but he quickly learned that it was merely part of your personality.

Now, do not misunderstand, Shanks adored your personality and the way it contrasted with his yet fit so perfectly like a puzzle piece. He loved working with you— hell, he loved you, but he wasn’t ready to admit that quite yet. His first goal was to get you to laugh, because he wanted the bragging rights.

He was honestly putting in effort every day, but there were two major points in which he came close.

The first time was a horrible failure.

Yassop had told a really dumb dad joke, which he did often, and it resulted in you doing that little nose exhale that Shanks thought was so cute. Seeing that reaction from you gave him hope, so he started making every terrible pun imaginable.

“What’s a pirate’s favorite letter, Y/N?”

…

“The C!”

The rest of the crew couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid his attempts were, but he was unsuccessful with you. You simply shook your head and smiled at the crew and their shenanigans.

The second time, Shanks was sure that he would do it! They had just completed a successful raid and the crew took the opportunity to celebrate. Drinks were being handed out left and right, and Shanks got an idea.

He declared a drinking competition, knowing how you enjoyed a good challenge, and thought that a little alcohol in your system would encourage you to let loose and maybe let out a good laugh!

As the night went on, you weren’t exactly winning the contest, but you were certainly enjoying yourself. You had drank more than you had in a while, and your cheeks were a deep red. The crew began to tell stories, and Shanks watched you intently in hopes of catching a giggle or two.

However, all he saw was you gently swaying back and forth as your eyes were half lidded.

Of course you were a sleepy drunk…

At this point, Shanks was starting to give up. It had been a while since he had made any big attempts, bringing us to the present.

It was a quiet afternoon, the ship gently swaying in the soft breeze. You sat on the deck and gazed at the horizon for a while as a specific thought plagued your mind. Something about the crisp air gave you a boost of confidence, and so you went to find your captain for a word.

You found Shanks sitting and chatting with Benn as his first mate forced him to drink water as opposed to another round of sake, because the poor man was still terribly hungover from the night before. A common occurrence, really. You were reluctant at first, but you approached your captain with his cherry-red cheeks and asked him for a word alone.

Of course, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. He guided you with a hand on the small of your back as he led you to his room, laughing to himself as he complained about his splitting headache. He looked like a bumbling idiot, but you supposed that was why you felt the way you did for him…

However, what he was about to do was going to make him look like a lot more of an idiot.

He began to walk backwards so he could look at you as the two of you walked, a slight stumble in his step as he smiled and stuttered some more, asking about what you wanted to talk about. How he could look so adorable and silly at the same time was a mystery to you…

You were about to give some obscure, avoidant answer before you realized that your captain was about to run straight into a—

BANG!

—wall…

Just before he went to open the door, Shanks had smacked his head right into the door jam. He grabbed his head, barely phased, and grunted about how that was definitely not gonna help his headache.

You had to take a moment to process what had just happened. To think that you were about to confess to this man. You were so worried about making yourself look foolish, but he took that title way before you could. A bubbly feeling filled your chest and spilled out of you before you could think about it.

“Pfft- hahahahha!”

As you doubled over, losing yourself in an uncharacteristic fit on giggles, Shanks suddenly felt pretty sober. He fell silent and looked at you, a dreamy look in his eyes, as he held his head and blushed. The sound of your laughter was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. It was like music to his ears, like the first song of the morning birds.

He was in love with it. Almost as much as he was in love with you.

“Wow…”

Once you caught your breath, you looked up at your captain, ready to apologize for laughing at him. How rude of you, right? Except, when you looked up at him, you were met with a pink face and a dreamy yet sober expression. Your words immediately got caught in your throat. You had never seen him look at you like that…

The two of you were silent for a moment, still standing just outside of his room. Suddenly nervous, you began to stutter out some word vomit of apologize and asking if he was okay or something to fill the void before he just interrupted you and blurted out:

“I’m so in love with you...”

Once again, you were thrown into stunned silence, and now you had a face to match the redness of his. It felt like minutes before you were able to find your voice again.

“That’s… what I was coming to tell you…”

Shanks’ expression softened even more as he processed your words. He was pretty shocked, but he was simply overwhelmed by your beauty and perfection to even care.

He didn’t waste another moment before pulling you close to him, wrapping an arm around your waist until your faces were almost touching. He didn’t move any closer than that, though. He simply gazed into your gorgeous eyes and waited for you to do the rest. He would hate to do anything you didn’t want.

But you definitely did want this— more than anything actually. You let your lips meet his, offering a kiss so soft and gentle it was like it was barely there. Shanks was pretty much putty in your hands now as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss ever-so-slightly. You faintly taste the sake on his lips as his stubble tickled your chin. You couldn’t help but smile into his lips.

The moment the two of you pulled away for a breath, he pulled you into a warm hug and buried his face in your soft hair. He felt like he was in heaven… and he was stone-cold sober. He whispered how much he loved you with his lips on your ear, and he didn’t plan on pulling away anytime soon.

All in one afternoon, not only had he gotten his true love in his arms, but he even got to hear them laugh. Those were some pretty serious bragging rights, and he planned to use them until the crew got tired of it.

#one piece #anime #manga #one piece x reader #red hair shanks #shanks x reader

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greyias · 5 months

Note

29. The smell of burning wood

Pairing: Gale x Tav (pre-relationship) Words: ~3600 Notes: Mostly self-indulgent fluff, takes place the first night of the game

The sun had started its descent in the sky by the time they’d found a suitable site for a camp and scrounged enough supplies and crockery among the carnage around the Nautiloid’s crash site. This close to the campfire, the sweet, earthy smoke that wafted her way managed to block out the acrid scent of the smoldering wreckage of the strange, alien ship that had brought them here, or even the lingering sulfurous stench of Avernus that seemed to cling to their clothes.

The crackling fire burned bright, the snaps and pops of the dried wood in the flames a steady percussion, as if measuring the progress of the setting sun. If Aravyn closed her eyes, breathed in deep, she might almost pretend this was any normal night on the road. But every time she did so, that damned tadpole would squirm anew and shatter the illusion before it even really began. Stupid bugger, not even a day in and she was already ready to evict it purely on the grounds for being such an ungrateful little guest. All impending threats of ceremorphosis aside.

After the quiet, terse, yet surprisingly delicious meal their resident wizard had pulled together from their random assortment of fish and dried rations, most of their ragtag group had retreated to their own corners of camp. Instead of withdrawing into momentary fantasy, she eyed the dirtied, abandoned makeshift bowls and plates they’d found amongst the carnage, and the retreating forms of her fellow adventurers with a small frown.

Everyone seemed more intent on setting up their own tents for however long they’d be here — wherever here was. They all had a lot on—and in—their minds at the moment. Much more than daily chores.

Well, not quite everyone. Over by the now emptied cook pot, Gale seemed lost in thought, brow furrowed as he piled discarded fish bones and herb stems on a ragged cloth. He’d spent most of their time in camp preparing their evening meal, and had yet to set up his own area. Mind made up, she set about gathering the dirtied crockery and utensils, making just enough noise to rouse him from that deep contemplation.

“Allow me.” She indicated the bundle he was currently tying up. “You already worked enough magic transforming these rations into a feast. The least I can do is the dishes.”

That summoned the semblance of a smile, his lips quirking up ever so slightly as the frown smoothed away to a friendlier expression. “Oh, trust me, my arcane prowess extends to more impressive feats than conjuring flavor from our meager scrounging. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said lightly. “That meal was a sight more flavorful than any jerky soup I’ve cooked over a campfire.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what, pray tell, is ‘jerky soup’?”

“Well, it’s when you get a pot of water boiling, then throw in a mess of jerky. You can tear it up into pieces if you’re feeling ambitious. Then let soak until soft enough to not break your teeth.”

Gale looked positively horrified at the culinary abomination described. “Do you drink the—I hesitate to call it broth?”

“Of course! Waste not, want not.”

“That sounds like quite the… unique concoction.”

“You can say bad, it’s all right. I think it would violate my oath to inflict that particular delicacy on others.”

He pressed his lips together, either to repress a smile or perhaps in relief that his intestinal fortitude wouldn’t be challenged anytime soon. “It sounds like for the foreseeable future of our journey that I should maintain control of the cook pot.”

“I would not wish to give you more duties,” she hedged, “but perhaps that is wise for now. We probably shouldn't add gastrointestinal distress to the list of things we’re dealing with.”

“Grand adventures do rarely involve epic tales of food poisoning.”

“I wouldn’t say it was that bad — but point taken. Cooking has never really been in my repertoire. That’s probably not going to change much.”

“Come now, there’s always the chance to learn,” Gale insisted, “and I have been known to instruct a wayward student once or twice in my day.”

“Have you now?”

“Granted, my apprentices, if you would call them such, needed tutelage of the more arcane nature, but! I am not a man to who would hoard knowledge from a willing pupil.”

“If you’re offering to teach me how to cook,” she threaded a note of teasing into her tone, “I am not sure I would be a talented student—”

“Please, I won’t have you downplaying your own aptitude. You had enough creativity to invent a new genre of soup, regardless of how…” he paused, as if searching his broad vocabulary for the most polite way to phrase it, “—uh, palatable it wound up being. I bet if you used more than two ingredients, perhaps a vegetable, mixed in the concept of spices, then the flavor would expand exponentially.”

“I knew I forgot something.” That elicited a quiet snort. “That’s the kind of feedback that would be helpful in the future.”

“All that and more.”

“Well, in that case, I wouldn’t mind learning from a master.” She gave him a smile. “Especially if it would help ease the burden of cooking.”

“Ah, but is it a burden to feed others?” Gale tapped the side of his nose as he gave her a wink. “Or just good manners?”

“Speaking of good manners,” she deftly grabbed the bundle before he could protest, “as you cooked the meal, it is only appropriate for someone else to clean up.”

“Yes, I guess that is true,” he conceded. “And in truth, I do appreciate the assistance. This has been… well, rather more excitement than I’d prefer for one day.”

“Hard to argue with that.” The clatter of her trying to stack their eclectic assortment of makeshift crockery with the cookware and pot nearly drowned out her murmur of agreement. “Not every day starts with ilithid abductions, crashing nautiloids, with a side trip into hell.”

The stack of cookware tilted dangerously as she tried to arrange it in one hand and reach for the dirtied cookpot with the other, and Gale rushed forward to steady it. “Please, let us not compound the day’s adventure with another crash.”

“I’ve got it,” she insisted with good nature. “Just trying to save on trips.”

“I have already added enough work for you this evening,” he grabbed the dishes that were moments from taking a tumble, “let me offset that by at least helping with transport.”

“Very well,” she dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to be accused of breaking Astarion’s new favorite plate.”

“Is it really, though? It’s not like he touched much of his meal earlier. Perhaps it wasn’t to his taste.” Gale added a few more dishes to his own stack for good measure, and gave a side eye to the way she easily hefted the heavy cooking pot to bear. “Are you sure you have that?”

“Oh, this? Yeah, it’s nothing. Really.”

“Are you sure? I nearly threw my back out when I was trying to adjust its position on the fire.”

“You just have to lift with your knees.”

“If you say so,” he murmured.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“My back?”

“No—I mean, it’s your back, you have every right to worry about that, don’t let me stop you—but I was talking about Astarion picking at his food. The meal was delicious. Maybe he just has a weak stomach. As you said, it has been a long and arduous day.”

“Hm, do I detect a hint of sarcasm there?”

“No,” Aravyn insisted, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Well, a lesser person might hold a little grudge for the way he pulled a knife on you.” There was a knowing look in the wizard’s eye that had her snorting out an annoyed breath, especially when he added, “You moved on from that with a surprising amount of grace.”

She tried not to wince at the memory of the knife pressed against her throat, its sharp edge slightly cooler than the one in Gale’s threat to incinerate the pale elf threatening her. “Well, he did eventually put the knife away.”

“Only after you nearly knocked out his teeth with that headbutt—a very nice move, by the way.” The smile she tried to dredge up at the intended compliment may have come out more of a grimace, but he forged on, voice dropping to more of a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s very strange, but I couldn’t help but notice how sharp his canines are. Do you think he files them down?”

“What? No—who would do that?”

“I don’t know… Bhaalists, cannibals, oh, maybe he’s part orc?”

“He doesn’t seem to have the physique for that particular bloodline.” Aravyn set the pot down as they reached the water’s edge, the babbling of the river’s current adding a serene soundtrack to their hushed conversation now they were further away from the hub of the camp. “And a Bhaalist would have just slit my throat.”

“So we’re agreed, then? Definitely a cannibal.”

She quickly turned to Gale, letting out a hushing noise as she grabbed for the set of plates he’d rescued from their ignoble end. “You’re horrible. Stop!”

The strength of her plea was weakened by her half-laugh and wide-eyed look she tossed back towards the subject of their conversation, who could barely be seen past the large outcropping of rocks lining the shore. Gale let out a quiet, almost satisfied chuckle as he delicately set the plates on her outstretched palms.

“And yet you indulge in my salacious speculation.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps it’s my charm.”

She shot him a wry, side-long glance as she knelt into the wet soil of the riverbank, spreading out the cookware and crockery to prepare for her task. “Might I remind you that you just accused one of our party of secretly wanting to eat us?”

Gale let out an affronted huff. “Are you impugning my character?”

“Maybe just a little.” She flashed a smile at him. “Although I should probably factor in that you were gentlemanly enough to help me haul my horde down here.”

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “This grading system of my character seems to have a lot of complexity to it. Is it a sliding scale?”

“Would you believe I invented it on the spot?”

“I might.”

“Well,” the brightness of her smile faded to something a little softer, “regardless, I think you have been gallant enough for the day. You’ve spent all your time in camp preparing us a fine meal and haven’t seen to your own tent. I’m sure you have plenty yet to unpack and arrange after the day’s chaos.”

Gale opened his mouth as if to continue a polite protest, then shut it again as he mulled over the statement. “I suppose you make a fair point. We need an area for research if we’re to be stranded here for any length of time, and my books! Well, what few I had on my person doesn’t hold a candle to my library back in Waterdeep, but still enough to fill a shelf or two. That I’ll need to construct somehow, come to think of it.”

“It seems like you have your hands full, then.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on, mine are busy with the dishes.”

As Gale turned to leave, an action she had very much been encouraging, there was just the smallest flicker of disappointment in her chest. Before he could take another step, or her mind could catch up with the compulsion, her hand shot out to catch his sleeve. She reeled the impulse back in just enough so that her fingers just brushed against the fabric, gaining a bit of a startled look back in her direction.

“Wait, I…” As he glanced down at her quizzically, she could feel her cheeks flushing and the tips of her ears burning, but she didn’t avert her gaze. “I just wanted to say. About earlier, when Astarion pulled the knife. You threatened to incinerate him.”

“Ah. Right. Not my finest moment.”

“No, no, what I mean to say is…” Gods, why was this so difficult? “Thank you. You hadn’t known me for even an hour, yet you still made an effort.”

“Well, it’s hardly the act of a gentleman to let some scallywag slit your throat, especially after you so valiantly rescued me from that malfunctioning portal.” The self-deprecating smile that twisted his lips now seemed more genuine than the practiced one that accompanied his more braggadocios statements. Like this was what came to him more naturally. “Not that my efforts amounted to much. You were obviously more than capable of handling the situation on your own.”

“That you tried means something.”

“I suppose that’s a refreshing change of pace,” he mused, almost to himself. At the quizzical tilt of her head, he seemed to remember himself and added. “Worry not. If things continue as they have, I’m sure there will be ample opportunity for me to be successful in returning the favor and save your life.” An awkward beat passed as he considered his words. “Not that I would wish more danger upon us, of course. But we do seem to attract… excitement.”

“Like moth to a flame,” she agreed quietly.

“Well,” Gale cleared his throat, clasping his arms behind his back, “I do have those books to organize. I suppose I shall leave you to it.”

At her nod, he quickly retreated towards the camp, and she let out a frustrated breath that threatened to become a sigh. Without even really thinking, she started to methodically work through the dishes and get them clean. Or as clean as they could get with the limited supplies they were working with. They needed some soap—and something rough enough to really scrub out this pot. For now, elbow grease would have to do. If she focused more on the rag in her hands, then there would be less of her mind to try to sort out her lingering disappointment.

She didn’t even know what she was disappointed about. If she thought about it at any length, bringing up the earlier incident was probably not very appropriate. She wasn’t even sure why'd done so, it was almost as if it had burst forth from her as if from its own accord. It had just made things awkward — and she hadn’t been trying to imply that Gale had failed in any way. She had just wanted… gods, she didn’t know that either.

The problem with losing oneself in a task was that each one had a finite end point. By the time she stacked the last dish inside the cook pot, the sun had shrunk behind the horizon, bleeding vivid hues across the sky in its wake. Absently she shook out the bundle of cooking scraps into the flowing water, watching them disappear into the deeper currents of the river.

They’d reached the end of the first day. Of seven if the more learned members of their ragtag group were to be believed. Seven days until the thing in their heads burst forth, ripping through their skin, burning up their souls and—

She shoved herself to her feet with an unnecessarily violent movement. No. No. She hadn’t finished with her task yet.

She carefully stacked the dishes inside of the large pot, taking time to inspect the structural integrity before hefting it to bear. She could count the steps back to the center of camp individually, rolling her feet so that the crockery didn’t clink too loudly on the trip, before setting it down in its appropriate spot near the campfire. Unfortunately, even if she dragged her feet, it only stretched out her distraction for another minute or so.

That was fine, everyone else was busy getting their own spaces prepared. She should do so as well. She'd already laid out her meager belongings in her little lean-to, but perhaps a little more organization wouldn’t hurt. The tenets of her oath had been placed carefully upon the bedroll that still needed to be unfurled for the night, and the slender neck of a lute peeked from behind where she’d stacked her armor, tabard, and shield for the evening.

The lute wasn’t hers. Not really. It had been years since her own had been sold off, and this one had been found it amongst the wreckage on the beach. An admittedly useless item for a pack of strangers focusing on survival. While a fairly light instrument, it was still unwise to haul around extra weight that served no real utility. And yet, she couldn’t just abandon it to rot in the sea air, its song forever silenced like the countless bodies littering the shore of the crash site.

She wasn’t actively aware that she had dropped to her knees until her fingers were tracing over the nicks and divots worn into the fretboard from countless years of fingertips pressing strings against it. A few lighter scratches showed newer use — perhaps a child taking lessons, inadvertently adding their own marks.

Or maybe that was just a bit of imagination, or perhaps projection, shining through, she told herself as she struggled to swallow past a sudden lump in her throat. Though in her mind’s eye it was all too easy to see small, chubby fingers being guided along the fretboard by larger, more experienced hands. Perhaps an older relative, or a tutor. Index finger and thumb working in tandem to pluck out familiar chords to a timeless tune.

Its bright notes would be the same, whether plucked out by a small child, or drifting out the open window of a tavern. Her teenage self would have never risked going into one. Even taking just a moment to pause and listen to the full length of a tune would cut into her overly filled schedule. And yet her fingers would keep their own time, drumming atop the large tomes of mathematics and elvish history she lugged between lessons across the Lower City.

Aravyn blinked, out of memory and half-imaginings, back into her dirty, bloody reality on the banks of the Chionthar. There were no tavern musicians or traveling bards with a merry tune to chase away the dark thoughts looming at the edges — just her and the lute that somehow was already cradled into a familiar position. The fading light of the sun seemed to glimmer along the strings, and her thumb was already in motion, plucking the first string, her index finger moving on muscle memory as it picked a corresponding note that sung a crisp, familiar note.

It was brief, but just encouragement enough that her fingertips continued to dance a familiar refrain, weaving a familiar song. She could hear the cheerful tune in her head, but as her fingers continued to work the strings, the notes didn’t match. Discordant and jarring, the thin threads of music tangled together, crashing into an unrecognizable and inharmonious cacophony.

“If that racket does not stop right now,” the voice of an angry githyanki hanging on to their last thread of patience cut through the camp, “I will end both it and whoever is responsible!”

Her fingers felt as heavy and uncoordinated as those sour sounds, and the lute was quickly lowered back to her lap. Of course, some random instrument found in the carnage of the nautiloid’s crash wouldn’t function properly. Only a silly fool would think not only that but also that it would somehow lighten the heavy mood in their camp.

A familiar paternal voice in the back of her mind chastised her for chasing her own comfort and wasting time on such frivolous things, especially when there were far more important matters to tend to. And their impending ceremorphosis certainly wouldn’t be cured even if she could coax a festive song from the lute’s untuned strings.

“It’s time to put away childish things, Aravyn,” that echo from the past reminded her, the reprimand carrying the weight of a lifetime of failed expectations. She exhaled sharply to shake off the familiar, stifling sensation. If there was no time to indulge in frivolities, then there was also no time to indulge in self-pity, either.

Even though her cheeks burned at the thought of the entire camp hearing that wretched sound, Aravyn couldn’t find it in herself to take her frustrations out on the lute. She instead forced herself to glance up. The fading sunlight cast a warm glow over her new companions, all of whom were engrossed in the rhythm of their own tasks. Even renowned musical critic Lae’zel had waited long enough to ensure the return of silence, before resuming the construction on a training dummy that was beginning to resemble a Mindflayer. Had she spent the entire afternoon attaching tentacles to the thing?

She shook her head. What did that matter?

Regardless, if Aravyn’s faux pas wasn’t enough to warrant anything more than a grumbled threat, perhaps she shouldn’t linger on it too long. With one last lingering glance at the lute, she carefully set it away, far, far to the back of her tent. Out of reach, and out of temptation’s range. Her focus right now needed to be on what tune tomorrow’s winds might carry. She gave a wry smile at the thought, hoping a new dawn might bring a little more harmony than today’s chaos.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #gale x tav #(pre-relationship)#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 tav #oc: aravyn #greyfic #in which ari and gale gossip like a bunch of real housewives #and i try to faithfully recreate her embarrassing musical debut #that the game has now patched out of existence :(#now kel #i know you didn't submit this prompt nearly two years ago #thiking you'd wind up with 3600 rambling words of bg3 fic #and yet... here we are

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deusvervewrites · 11 months

Note

On 254 being a retcon for Aizawa’s expulsion tactics: I’m not so sure. I think the intention was always to go that way, but the writing was never able to focus enough on class life to the point that it could be established and built upon as we just jumped from crisis to crisis. I agree that the practice as shown is detrimental, but I disagree on the idea that it is completely devoid of potential. To me, that is as shortsighted as declaring certain quirks inherently villainous.

what.

I--

sorry hold on let me see if I can understand this.

You're suggesting that me saying Aizawa placing a permanent black mark and traumatizing his students for no benefit is bad, is the same as me declaring that a Quirk is inherently Villainous.

Not only is that one of the single dumbest takes I have ever had the displeasure of reading with my own eyes, you're also leveling personal insults at me. What the fuck. Why-- are you okay? WHat the fuck.

Honestly I've blocked people for less. I could easily justify deleting this ask, blocking you, and going about the rest of my life a happier person. But I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Don't waste it.

So let's ignore your strong implication that I'm discriminating against poor little aizawa who just wants to cause unrelenting and incredible stress to his students for again, no benefit, and focus on the actual meat of your argument here.

Are you aware that in Japan, High School is not compulsory? From the perspective of his students, Aizawa is not only threatening their time at UA, but any high school at all. That Black Mark is still on the records of the students he expelled! I'm not making that up! I'm not exaggerating!

He never indicates that he transfers them to Gen-Ed for 250 chapters. We have no reason to believe that he transfers them to Gen-Ed before this. Even if it was hypothetically planned from the start instead of something to retroactively make him look like he isn't ruining he futures of these students by throwing them out of the top school in Japan with a Black Mark damn-near ensuring that none of them are ever accepted into a High School, it's still a shitty retcon because there's no foreshadowing! There is no reason to believe otherwise! Hell, we're given every reason to believe him at face value!

If Aizawa really did renroll them, then it should've been listed there in the records All Might read, or Aizawa should've said something about it. The line about ending half-assed dreams is practically confirmation that they are kicked out of UA. There is no reason to say that if he intends on renrolling them.

Unless, of course, it was a retcon thrown in later.

Funny how when Shinsou talks about the possibility of taking someone's place in 1-A and them being move to Gen-Ed, he calls it a Transfer and not fucking Expulsion.

And we are now something like five asks deep in this chain of your insistence that Aizawa's expulsion do in fact have some level of value, but you've yet to identify a single case where they would be useful except when Bakugou knowingly and deliberately used lethal force against Midoriya. Congrats. The burden of proof is on you and all you can do is repeat the same line but slightly louder. That's not even Aizawa's expulsion scare tactics, that's how literally any school would function in the real world!

You want to convince me that Aizawa's expulsion threats have value? That's your fucking job to prove! Give me a decent example! What the fuck makes you think it's okay to tell me to convince myself and insult me for not doing so?!

#asks #meta

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yanyanderes · 2 years

Text

YAN!ROTTMNT BROTHERS X READER

(basically this but in ✨written form✨ might make a part 2 idk)

i wrote this last night when i was half asleep and i’ve been contemplating whether or not to post this, so if you see any mistakes yk why

(y/n) is hiding in an alleyway, the rain so heavy it stings their skin. but nothing stings more than the horror they felt upon learning the brothers’ true intentions.

it all started when they were hurt in battle. raph went ballistic, representing more of a wild animal than the giant teddy bear (y/n) had grown so close to. it was frightening to see him basically tear the enemy to shreds with such a crazed expression. of course, this was a fight, so there were bound to be some nasty injuries, but never had they seen raph so feral.

afterwards, the leader apologized, realizing how much he scared them. he just got so mad when he saw their injuries he- he just lost control.

even so, it took (y/n) a long time to erase the image of their enemy’s beaten, unconscious body out of their mind.

after that whole event, they decided to take a break from missions. they scheduled a small movie night with their best friend, and were excited to meet up with them.

but they never showed up.

just as (y/n) was about to text them, they realized their phone had gone missing.

wasn’t it on the kitchen counter a few minutes ago?

they basically flipped over their apartment trying to find the device, yet turned out unsuccessful. not to mention more than an hour had gone by and their friend still wasn’t here. now they were starting to get worried…

that’s when they overhear the live news. someone’s apartment was broken into and they were gravely injured. immediately, (y/n) recognized the name and apartment.

it was their best friend.

immediately, (y/n) started packing their things, ready to head to the hospital and check on their friend. as if on cue, a knock could be heard from their window. pushing the curtains aside revealed none other than donnie.

upon being questioned, he claimed he heard the news and wanted to check up on them. when (y/n) revealed they want to visit their friend, donnie insisted they stay home. if their best friend was being targeted, they might be as well.

as he was trying to convince them to stay, a thunk diverted both their attention to the ground, earning a look of confusion and paranoia from (y/n), and panic from donnie.

it was their phone.

immediately, donnie frantically started spitting out defenses, swearing up and down that they had simply left their phone at the lair and he wanted to return it.

they found it hard to believe.

their best friend started distancing themselves from (y/n), blocking them and actively avoiding them from then on. this obviously brought their spirits down and their anxiety up before finding comfort in another close friend of theirs.

their friend tried to find out what happened to make (y/n)’s best friend avoid them so much, but they seemed to avoid the topic every time it was brought up. still, (y/n) appreciated the gesture.

and then, that friend went missing.

as they were still processing that yet another close friend was gone, a blue portal illuminated their dark room, and out popped the familiar face of leo.

he comforted them the best they could, reassuring them that their friend was in a better place now, to which (y/n) responded that he spoke as if he knew they were dead.

the sudden tension from leo didn’t go unnoticed by (y/n). they immediately started questioning his knowledge of the situation, with leo denying all of their accusations, insisting that he just heard something bad happened to their friend and assumed the worst. no matter what he said, (y/n) couldn’t shake the thoughts from their mind.

they started distancing themselves from the turtles, no longer going to the lair or answering their calls and only responding to their texts with “i need space right now”.

the strange thing is, every time they woke up the next morning, all of their other loved ones would be blocked. (y/n) would immediately unblock them, swearing they had no idea how it happened, only for it to happen again. and again. and again.

eventually, some of their friends and relatives started getting fed up with this behavior. was this some sort of bad prank? it started to put a strain on some of their relationships with a few people believing this was being done deliberately. even when (y/n) tried to get it checked out, the employees insisted that nothing was wrong with their phone.

they would only find the truth when they woke up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. still half asleep, they let out a low groan as they shifted in their sheets. they must’ve been really tired, because they could’ve sworn they saw a familiar turtle’s figure in their room.

wait…

blinking awake, they stared in shock at mikey hunched over their phone, muttering under his breath. though his words were inaudible, there was no doubt an aura of resentment around him, a stark contrast to his usual bubbly self. was he the one blocking everyone?

feeling utterly betrayed, they called out mikey’s name, making the turtle freeze on the spot. he turned around and immediately started blurting out apologies. it’s just that they were ignoring him and his brothers so much! he thought that their family and friends were being a bad influence! that’s why they’ve been trying to separate them! hurting their friends was a last resort, he swears!

wait… he’s said too much.

as (y/n) pressed him further, mikey eventually cracked and the truth came spilling out. leo was the reason their friend disappeared, donnie threatened their best friend into staying away from them, and in his panic, let it slip that raph was planning on taking them to the lair for good.

as much as mikey insisted that they only want the best for them, (y/n) wasn’t having any of this. snatching their phone, they said that they didn’t want anything to do with the turtles anymore before storming off, slamming the door behind them.

that’s how they got into their current predicament.

in hindsight, they regret lashing out. not because they feel guilty, but rather because now that the brothers knew that they knew, there was no reason for them to hold back anymore. honestly, what were they thinking? they should’ve kept their cool and left when the time was right. now the brothers were hunting them down.

hearing voices call out their name, (y/n)’s hand slams over their mouth and their breathing stops.

“(y/n)! come back! you’re gonna catch a cold out here!”

they could barely hear the footsteps of the turtles over the heavy tapping of the rain. their heart pounds in their ears, hoping the shadows of the alleyway were enough to keep them out of sight.

“please! we just wanna protect you! we can talk about this!”

“their tracker says they’re in the area.”

they put a tracker on them?! since when?!

“hey, maybe next time, don’t spill all our secrets to the one person we agreed not to tell.”

“they said they wanted to leave forever! i panicked!”

“ah, yes. and revealing our plans to kidnap them would obviously change their mind about everything.”

“hey! it’s not kidnapping! we’re just keeping them safe, whether they realize it or not!”

“that’s stalking.”

why are they so casual? was this some sort of game to them?!

how long has this been going on? why are they so obsessed? why are they willing to go to such lengths just for their attention? is there any way to escape them? they’re trained ninjas with advanced technology and mystic weapons! and apparently, they’ve got a tracker on them!

as the questions ring in (y/n)’s mind, they don’t notice a figure slowly creeping up to them until a hand is placed on their shoulder.

#yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere tmnt 2018 #yandere #yandere leo #yandere raph #yandere donnie #yandere mikey #yandere rottmnt leo #yandere rottmnt raph #yandere rottmnt donnie #yandere rottmnt mikey #i wrote then when i was half asleep #am i gonna edit/proofread? nahhhh sue me #actually please don’t i’m broke lmaooo

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gunkreads · 8 months

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Okay, but for real this time.

What on earth were they thinking with Nynaeve's non-arc this season? The arches were a dead end--there was no clear intent with those and no clear change, either forward or backward progress, in her. Instead of framing the arches as "Face your fears so you can solidify your sense of self and cement your motivations to becoming an Aes Sedai", they were just framed as "Face your fears. 'Cause." The show did not follow the arches up with any reason why they had to happen. There was no payoff for them. Why did she go through them? What tools did she gain from them? What scars did she gain from them that she didn't already have? The mental damage done in the arches overlaps too evenly with the issues she already had to deserve an entire episode of major focus. She came out of them almost identical to how she went in.

Why has the show changed the nature of her block? Why did she end this season not only completely impotent, but also DIRECTLY overshadowed by other characters whose roles in the story give them no reason to step into Nynaeve's role as a combat medic.

Okay, so let's assume that the showrunners have decided that they wanna slow-burn Nynaeve's arc to become a healer--they want to have Nynaeve be outstripped by her closest friends, have them become her superiors at the thing that used to be Her Thing, then have a big heroic speedrun where she breaks her block and makes a ton of progress and is Healer Supreme. If this is gonna be what they do, they're fucking it up. One, I just don't like it, but two, more importantly, they have not focused enough on her specific failures. The show has only focused on Nynaeve's inability to channel. In the show, like in the books, that's not really something she cares about; instead, she cares about her inability to Heal. Of course, channeling is how she does that, but it's secondary to the actual ability to make things better. Because the show doesn't do enough to emphasize the specific reason she's frustrated with her block, it feels like she's missing the ENTIRE core of her motivation. Don't like it. Whatever. Moving on.

Actually, not quite yet: What was up with cutting back to the Looney Toons girls sitting in the exact same position in the courtyard like 4 times in that last episode? What function did that serve? The function I believe it served was to do an embarrassingly bad job reiterating that Nynaeve can't channel. We know. Why did you take multiple separate scenes to establish that? Why did it take her so long to realize she couldn't use this power that she's almost never used? I know that "being arrowshot" is not high on the list of problems a Wisdom has to fix on a daily basis, but come on, man. It's a flesh wound; you know what to do with flesh wounds.

Why has Nynaeve been rewritten throughout the show into such a panicky person? She had such a strong sense of focus in S1, but S2 has really knocked her down too many pegs, in my opinion. I get that the whole "almost dying" thing made everything much harder to approach--though it was completely unmentioned in S2 for some reason--but the writing in S2 completely stagnated Nynaeve. She never did a single goddamn thing on purpose and was dragged everywhere she went. Even though it was only 3 episodes, I would've liked a little more actual back-and-forth between her and Elayne, with each of them getting corrected by the other, rather than just... Nynaeve being wrong every time. I don't feel that this does any credit to Elayne, either.

Elayne is very nearly a non-character, not in the sense that she's actively dull, just that she's... so off-puttingly normal and level-headed. First off, why is she just big chillin with an arrow through her leg? Ach, whatever. I'm a little upset that I don't really have enough material with her that I can make any solid assertions.

Except...

Are you fucking kidding me with that shit at the end? She's the one to Heal Rand's gut wound? What the hell and/or fuck? Robert Jordan did not make an entire cast of women while carefully omitting "nice, polite, awkwardly maternal healer love interest" for these assholes to make a mockery of the surgical precision with which he avoided that.

Anyway.

Where was my sword fight in the sky? Don't answer that. I just miss it.

Also, what the hell was up with that Joss Whedon-ass "let's all team up together! Woohoo team moment!" shit against Ishamael? How hokey can we get? Please tell me that was the cap.

Also also, what was the big old power jump for Rand suddenly being able to control his channeling? Did one little conversation with Logain and one bit of practice breaking Moiraine's shielding make him able to fucking Terminator a crowd of dudes? Like... Ach, whatever, I'll just phone in the analysis and say it's a sign that Lews Therin got a much stronger grip on him after he rejected Lanfear.

Hey. Where was Ingtar's beautiful, beautiful last stand? Where was his admission that he was a Darkfriend, but he believed Rand could save them all, so he was betraying the Dark? I know where it was; they dropped it in S1E8 when they had Rand head off on his own, eliminating any chance to set it up. Still sad they cut such an amazing scene.

Anyway, Egwene and Perrin are the main characters and everyone else is a sideshow. They're the only characters in the show who seem to have actual arcs, or progress of any kind, on the single-season scale. Sure, Rand and Mat changed between seasons, but during this seasons, they were mostly static. The most basic metric I know for this is that if you transplanted their E8 selves into E1, they wouldn't have made any crucially different choices that didn't involve "knowing secrets".

Season 1 started strong and fell off linearly as it went, then ended in the dirt. Season 2 started weak, built up to be fucking stellar around episodes 5-7, then fell off a fucking cliff in the last episode. I dunno.

Once again, I'm having a pretty solid time with each episode, but the show just feels badly-written. Little clarity of purpose.

#wheel of time on prime

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mahoutoons · 1 year

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i really do not get all the hatred sonamy fans get in the sonic fandom.

"but they're so toxic!!"

so are all other ship fandoms. i've had experience with toxic shippers of other ships. but you won’t see me generalizing the ship's fandom over them. every ship has its fair share of toxic fans. so why is it that only sonamy fans get all the heat for being toxic? i'm not denying that there are bad eggs in our fandom but i don't think its fair yo act like we're a special breed of toxic. i've seen fans of other ships with r*pe on amy yet people don't use them to generalize the whole ship's fandom.

"they think their ship is canon!!"

in the 2000s-2010s, maybe we did have a lot of fans who thoight that way. but nowadays whenever sonamy fans claim its canon, its always done in a joking way. its what fans lf literally every other ship do. i've seen people jokingly say "x ship is canon" because character a looked at character b funny. but no one ever attacks them for it. so why is it that only we get attacked when a lot of the time we aren't even serious?? we KNOW our ship will never actually be canon. we KNOW sega has no intention of changing their dynamic as of now. we're just having fun with the moments we're given. especially in recent media. why do y'all froth at the mouth over that. don't like it? just ignore and block.

and to be honest? as sonamy is now, it can be considered semi canon. like, give me a platonic explanation of the "amy, i should've made up my mind sooner" line in frontiers. IF sega decides to make them a couple, their dynamic still won't change. it'll still be very subtle except they're actually a couple now and you won't even notice it. and even then no one's stopping you from liking other ships. and if they are, well the block button exists for a reason.

"but the fanfics-"

i have my beef with old sonamy fanfics. but i have a feeling the people who made them were young kids and teenagers. i'll bet a lot of them have grown up now and have better things to do in life. now i hardly see any sonamy fanfic that villainizes sally or makes sonic an asshole for the sake of angst. the more extreme shippers from the 2000s-early 2010s should not be used to judge shippers today.

imagine if i used the sonadow shippers i encountered in 2014 deviantart, who were mostly allocishet girls who shipped them because they fetishized gay men, made both of them extremely ooc (anyone remember the terms seme and uke?), and of course hated amy for getting in the way of their ship, to judge the sonadow shippers of today who are now mostly mellow and enjoy their ship in peace, it wouldn't be fair now would it?

"the age gap is problematic!!"

most of the ages in sonic make no sense! there's a line in sonic forces where infinite claims sonic has defeated eggman for decades, and sonic's only supposed to be 15. granted using sonic forces may not be the best example but it shows how little sega cares about the ages. and now they've even been renoved from sonic channel. AND even ian flynn himself has said not to worry about pairings like sonamy and knuxouge because there's nothing wrong with them.

and i KNOW people are gonna take this to mean "so shipping things like s0nt@ils is okay now??" no, because tails is still coded as a little kid. sonic and most of the cast are coded as teenagers.

there's people who ship tails and fiona, and that's an actual toxic ship with an actual problematic age gap. but they don't get half the heat that sonamy shippers get.

"sonamy is a ship for the cishets"

really now? i guess my lgbt cars has expired guys. maybe that's a good thing because i was born and raised in a country where its illegal to be lgbt and my parents are kinda religious. and even the country where i'm originally from is pretty homophobic despite gay marriage being decriminalized. who knew all it took to solve those problems was to ship sonamy?? thanks guys.

do you see how stupid that logic is? a fucking ship doesn't determine your sexuality. i don't want to kiss women any less because i ship sonamy.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonamy #rebecca talks

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merrhea39 · 4 months

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Trans masc Dominik chapter 2-1

Chapter 2: A demand

Dominik went to the medical room with Rey after the match to get ice for his bad knees before leaving to get their bags from the locker room. In the hallway by the locker room Damian stood smoking a cigarette Dominik tried to ignore him, but Priest wouldn’t have it. “Where you going chico?” Damian steps in front of Dominik blocking his path. “I’m just going to my locker room for some stuff for my dad.” Dominik said in an annoyed tone. “Hey, take it easy man I just wanted to know.” Dom tried again to get past Damian. “Ah, I’m not done with you.” Damian blocks his path again. “I just wanted to show you we can make this easy Dom. We didn’t attack you because we want you with us. Next week you’ll join us right?” Damian made his intentions clear. “Sure.” Dominik just said it to get what he needed and get away from Damian. “Great, I’ll hold it to you then.” Damian said, walking away calmly. Dominik promptly grabbed his father’s and his own bag before returning to him swifty cautious to avoid The Judgment Day. “Papa.” Dom says to grab Rey’s attention before he enters the room. “I grabbed the KT tape for you.” Dom hands the medical tape to his father. “Ay thank you mijo…” A doctor helps Rey with his knees. Despite everything going on Dom did not mention to his father the confrontations he had with Damian and Rhea.

The very next week Rey had another match this time against Damian Priest, but still he never told his dad about their confrontation. Before his fathers match Dom noticed that the Judgment day were cutting a promo together about him and his father. “Rise for a prince! Rise for a punisher! Rise for The Judgment Day!” Damian started off for the 2 in the ring. “Last week we chose not to injure Dominik Mysterio, that is because we believe he’s gonna make the right decision and join us. In fact we guarantee that tonight Dominik will join the Judgment day! ... Dominik we’ve seen the look in your eyes, we know you’re just waiting to drop your father, well do it! Stop letting him hold you back, he’s stifling your potential. Let us remind you of the last time a legend tried to stifle us!” Dominik and his father watched them talk from a tv backstage as a video of the judgment day betraying Edge comes up on the screen but Rey gazes at his son. “Mijo this isn’t true is it?” Rey questioned with worry in his eyes. “What? Of course not dad, I wouldn't do that to you.” Dom responded almost embarrassed that he had been questioned about it. “I could watch that video over and over and over again-” Finn started to speak before getting cut off by Rey’s theme song and the cheer of the crowd as the father son duo come out together. Rey was ready for a fight but Dominik… he looked scared, scared of what they would do to him when he doesn’t join.

Rey was having a match like any other against Damian, but when Finn tried to help Damian, Dominik stopped him. “Stay out of this Dom!” Finn says throwing Dominik against the barricade before he was kicked by Rey for hurting Dominik which unintentionally knocked Finn into Dominik. Dom couldn’t help but groan in pain. “Your own father kicked me into you, I hope you know that… stay out of this match or else Dominik.” In the end Damian’s raw strength overpowered Rey and Damian won the match, but things weren’t done yet Damian kept beating up Rey and Finn grabbed 2 steel chairs and a microphone. Damian took the microphone from Finn. “Yeah… Dominik I told you, you’re joining the judgment day tonight.” Damian looks down pointing at Rey with a chair under his head put there by Finn. “Or we take his head off.” The judgment day were threatening to severely concuss Rey with a ‘conchairto’. Finn kicks Rey a few more times. “I guess-” Damian got cut off by pleading from Dominik. “Stop! Stop! Please! I’ll join just stop!” “What was that?” Damian said, taunting the younger man. “Just stop it!” Dominik pled again. “What was that?” This time Finn said it. “Just stop, I said I’ll join, just stop.” Dominik put his hand out in a pleading manner. “C’mere.” Finn said, grabbing Dominick's outstretched hand, pulling him to his feet from his knees, then grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt and holding it tight. Damian mic in hand said. “Why don’t you tell the world what you just said to us.” then shoving the mic in Dominiks face. “Just stop, I'll join the judgment day.” he said to the world in a defeated tone. Damian laughs into the microphone, taking a moment to kick Rey once again when he was still down before speaking again. “He said he’ll join you hear that?! Now he wants to join. Hey Dom!” Damian paused with a sinister smile growing. “It doesn’t work that way.” Before Dom could even react he was being attacked by Finn with the other steel chair, luckily Dominik didn’t take too much of beating and rolled out of the ring before they could do any serious damage to him.

#damian priest #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #wwe #the judgement day #finn balor #alternate universe #transgender #rey mysterio #adam copeland

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teriwrites · 4 months

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EXCERPT OF CHAPTER 1: A SISTER IN MOURNING

“Winifred,” Mrs. Elwood began. “Something has happened.”

Winnie didn’t wait for her to continue, interjecting, “They’ve found him, haven’t they? How bad is it?”

Mrs. Elwood frowned, the aged lines around her mouth deepening. “No, my dear, they haven’t found him yet. And I’m sorry to say they’re not likely to. Not after this.”

Now it was Winnie’s turn to frown. “What does that mean? What did they turn up?”

“It wasn’t something they found.” Mrs. Elwood’s hand reached up and comfortingly took hold of Winnie’s. “It was the ravens.”

“The ravens?”

The old woman sighed deeply. “We haven’t seen anything of this scale in even my lifetime. They always make themselves known eventually, of course, but so blatantly!”

This turn in the conversation was doing nothing to help Winnie’s nerves. She placed her free hand over Mrs. Elwood’s. “Please. What did your son see, exactly?”

“Those searching were out in the fields on the northern side of town. They were hoping to aim their sweep south from Alder Creek. But mere minutes into their search, they were interrupted. An enormous cloud of ravens flew overhead from the woodland and settled into the fields ahead of them, blocking their path.”

There was a pause. Winnie waited for the rest of the story, but nothing came. Knowing her face was blank with confusion, she attempted a small nod.

“It’s a sign,” Mrs. Elwood insisted. “I’m so sorry, Winifred, there’s no surer closure than that.”

Winnie almost laughed, but, seeing the solemnity in Mrs. Elwood’s face, managed to hold it back. “Why is that so certain? I’ve seen flocks of birds land out in the fields plenty of times. Maybe they were aiming at some of the seeds leftover from spring planting.”

Mrs. Elwood only shook her head sadly. “Not just any birds. Ravens, Winnie. They’re a sign of the fair folk.”

“Surely not every raven has such dark intentions?”

“Maybe not,” Mrs. Elwood amended, but her furrowed brow betrayed her doubt, “but this wasn’t a stray scavenger. There were hundreds of them. This was an unkindness the likes of which hasn’t been seen in well over half a century.”

This time, Winnie couldn’t suppress a small smile. “You call a flock of ravens an ‘unkindness’?”

“That’s what they’re called,” Mrs. Elwood snapped. “And for good reason. Those birds are solitary creatures. When they come together like that, it sends a message. And so soon after Bran… they’ve taken him, Winnie. They’ve taken him, and they wanted us to know they’ve claimed him.”

Most days, Winnie was willing to let the superstitions of Bildenbey alone. Living in a small town meant coming to terms with strict adherence to traditions. And as much as Winnie privately might roll her eyes at the idea of the fae hidden away in their own personal realm, she wouldn’t go so far as to criticize her neighbors publicly for believing in it. Belief in faeries had never hurt anybody.

Until now.

#writeblr #my writing #my wips #wip excerpt #writing community #original writing #writers on tumblr #writblr #bac #beyond alder creek #happy 75K folks!#have some winnie trying so hard not to lose her shit on this old woman

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solarpunkpresentspodcast · 4 months

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Solarpunk Naiveté?

Solarpunk opts for optimism—and action—over despair, but sometimes I wonder if we are just being naïve. It’s not just that most people don’t want what we want, which is a change on par with the Industrial Revolution, but for the sustainable, livable, and socially just, including the extinction of capitalism, patriarchy, and gender essentialism. We think that all we have to do is show how fun! (etc) the future could be to win over hearts and minds of the close minded and fearful who want to anchor us in the status quo or even drag us back into the past. But it’s not the poor (at least if we get our way), it’s the difficult, selfish, and sociopathic who will always be with us. These are the people that our currently crumbling democracies have failed to remain eternally vigilant against. These are the people who are the main obstacle to progress toward that beautiful future we’re dreaming of. But what do we do about them? What strategies do we have to take the sting out of the people whose sole intentions are to disrupt, destroy, seize power, and sow misery?

These people are rare and yet legion. We all know at least one. I mean, show me a family—or a workplace—that doesn’t contain at least one psychopath gleefully and intentionally capable of causing chaos and pain. A lot of us have had our lives upended by such people and/or carry deep wounds. I would definitely be a different, stronger person than I am now if it wasn’t for the things such people have done to me and to members of my family, even several generations in the past.

You’d think that would have armed me against such people. But over and over again I have found that if you’re not Machiavellian yourself, it’s all but impossible to counteract the willfully, savagely destructive. I don’t know about you, but I suspect, like me, you are just not devious enough to block, dodge, or defang their schemes. Which is the better way to be! But it means that we always think we’ve seen the worst these people can do and that there are no further horrors to come. Of course, we’re almost always wrong, at least until, having shattered us badly enough, they drop us as a plaything. Then, such is our propensity for amnesia and our belief in the goodness of the human heart, we forget that there are countless others like these people out there. And although we know that they blow through norms and fail to negotiate in good faith, our pitifully normal little brains will never really get our heads around what that means, except in hindsight… every time.

Or maybe I am a particularly lacking in guile.

So, anyway, here I have been, despite all my bad experiences with bullies and psychopaths, dreaming my cheerful little solarpunk dreams where everyone can just see how good it would be to be excellent to each other and stop fucking up the environment. I talk to people I like talking to—meaning people who see the world very much the way I do—and my social media encounters are largely confined to a hopelessly progressive Instagram feed and the soft, rolling hills of Mastodon, where everyone is so earnestly woke. So I forgot we’re not all in this together.

My rude reawakening came after I happened to stumble across the farmers’ huge protest here in Germany that happened the other week. As one does with impressive events, I shot a short video and posted it to YouTube. (You are subscribed to our new channel, right?) Thus was I slapped back into reality. By trolls, of course. Not even many and not even particularly ferocious ones. Just a couple of them making some run of the mill disparaging comments designed to sow discord and undermine my credulousness, rather than start actual discussions.

Yes, particularly guileless little fluffball that I am, I was shocked by this. My video was pretty neutral... and less than a minute long. I pointed out that the way farmers are farming is ruining the environment, but I also pointed out that it’s wrong that they’re not being paid a fair price for the food they produce for us. If I was criticizing anything, it was the whole messed up system that so grossly underpays farmers it pushes them to overproduce food by pumping the soils full of pesticides and fertilizers and housing inhumane ghettos of livestock that only sees the light of day on the way to the slaughterhouse. But I got savaged for being a hypocrite... for eating food. And that’s when you remember that there are so many people out there who aren’t interested in solving problems. They’re in it to win, or to bully people, or—in the case of, say, Russian trolls—to destabilize the society of their self-identified enemies (in this case, Germany and the rest of the democratic world). Dividing and conquering, right?

So, dear solarpunks and everyone else who’d like to avoid a dystopian very near future, how do we neutralize the destructive effects of people like this? Especially when the “fight” is asymmetric, because we can’t resort to Machiavellianism, bullying, or steamrolling over norms in return?

Comment below... I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! Provided, of course, that you’re not just in it to troll.

#solarpunk #trolls #bubble

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queenshelby · 2 years

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D*I*L*F (Part Five)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,313

Warning: Dark, Angst

Notes: Obviously not based on Cillian’s Real Life or Family. It’s all just fiction!

PLEASE COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.

It has been six weeks since you left Nora’s house and moved in with your cousin who was living just north of Dublin.

Your cousin rented a small unit with her boyfriend and allowed you to stay for a while. There wasn’t much room, but you had a mattress on the living-room floor which was quite comfortable at least.

After you moved in with your cousin, you found a job at a small café down the road from the apartment and then another one at a local bookstore. You adored books so it made sense for you to work there but the money wasn’t quite enough for you to rent your own place just yet.

You went for several auditions at Dublin’s theatres as well, wanting to return to acting and stage work at nights but, with what had happened six weeks ago, no one wanted to employ you.

Six weeks ago, you were not only just kicked out of Nora’s house, but you were also kicked from the theatre project on which you were working on with Nora and her mother.

You knew that you were a good performer but it was Nora’s mother who ran the project and, whilst she didn’t tell anyone what really happened between you and her husband, she forced you to give up the lead role in the play for which you had been practicing.

Unfortunately for you, she had many contacts in the industry and every time you were applying for a position or role at the top theatres in Dublin, you were knocked back despite your fantastic credentials.

Your dream was slowly falling apart and you struggled to move on with your life as one road block after another was thrown in to your way.

Of course, you knew that you mad a big mistake. You should never have gotten involved with Cillian regardless of how much you liked him and, the truth was, that you liked him a lot. You were in love with him. But he wasn’t in love with you.

You had fallen for him like a silly teenage girl and, as if this wasn’t already embarrassing enough, you knew that you were now going to pay for this mistake with your career.

Eventually, after the fourth audition, you swallowed your pride and decided to call Cillian, asking him to reason with his wife. It was clearly her doing as, every time you asked the producers and owners of the theatres as to why they wouldn’t offer you a role, they told you that they had received a bad reference from her. According to them, they were concerned about your work ethic and performance and, whilst you knew you did something terribly wrong when sleeping with Janette’s husband; your work ethic and performance had never suffered from it.

***

When you called Cillian however, he had no intention of helping you with your career. He was preoccupied with other matters and it seemed to you that he had forgotten all about you already.

“You must be crazy Y/N. I am already in the doghouse with my family and I am not going to talk to Janette about this. I am sorry” Cillian said, almost irritated by the fact that you called him and asked him for his help.

“But Cills, what she is saying isn’t true. She is doing all of this out of spite. She is ruining my life” you told him but he didn’t want to hear about this anymore.

“She probably is, but I am not going to get involved Y/N. I already have enough other shit to worry about” Cillian said firmly and you couldn’t help it and started to cry. You had no idea why, after all you had experienced together, he had become so cold towards you.

“Well, thanks” you stammered, embarrassed by the fact that he could hear you crying through the telephone.

“You can’t call me again Y/N. I cannot talk to you and you really need to delete my number. I have things going on at the moment and I cannot have you in my life” he then said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t believe how bluntly he had just spoken to you.

“No problem. Good luck with your things” you responded sarcastically before hanging up on Cillian and, with that, you did exactly what he had asked you to do. You deleted his number from your phone in anger before breaking out in tears once again.

You were rather emotional and couldn’t control your feelings any longer. You hated yourself for feeling this way and reacting the way you did.

You wanted to be stronger and more mature when you spoke to him but you felt as though you failed.

You felt like a failure after this somewhat short and yet significant mistake. Why did you do it, you asked yourself…

***

The question of “why” bugged you for another few days and, whilst you hadn’t talked to anyone about your affair with Cillian, your cousin knew that something was wrong.

You hadn’t been yourself lately and the fact that you moved in with her in the first place indicated to her that you were struggling.

But she didn’t know just how much you were struggling and the truth was that neither did you. At least, not yet.

For weeks, you had been plagued with an on and off bound of nausea and, since you always struggled with a little stress induced anxiety in the past, you put your unwell feeling back to recent events.

“You probably should get this checked out at some point” your cousin said, worrying about that the fact that you were feeling nauseous again after eating a bowl of breakfast cereal.

“I just have a lot on Elaine. It’s just stress” you reassured her before finding something else to snack on. The cereal no longer appealed to you and you desperately wanted to eat something heartier instead.

“If you say so” Elaine said nonetheless before heading off to work herself and it was just when she was about to head out of the door, that your nausea was getting so bad that you had to throw up.

It was almost like motion sickness. It came out of nowhere and you couldn’t control it.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she called out for you again from the hallway, hearing you being sick in the bathroom.

“I am fine. Just go to work. I see you tonight” you lied, knowing well that you were far from being fine.

The last time you were so sick that you had to throw up was six weeks ago, which was also the last morning you had spent at Nora’s house and you wondered whether you had, indeed, caught another viral infection.

With that in mind, you made an appointment with your local doctor after work and it was at this very doctor’s appointment that you thought of something else when filling out the new patient admission form.

The form asked about the date of your last menstrual cycle and it occurred to you that you hadn’t menstruated for almost eight weeks.

One may think that you should have noticed that you have missed not one but two of your periods but, to you, it wasn’t that unusual at all. You occasionally would miss your period during times of stress but missing two cycles should have caught your attention by now and perhaps you were just too preoccupied with finding work that you forgot all about it.

With that in mind now, you jumped off your chair and, instead of waiting to see the doctor, you raced to the nearest pharmacy and bought a box of pregnancy tests.

Your heart was beating out of your chest and your mind went blank as you made your way back home.

Could you be pregnant, you wondered? After all, you didn’t use any protection when you slept with Cillian but it was only that one time, that very first time, that he came inside of you.

You know you had acted foolish by sleeping with him without protection, but there was nothing you could do about it now. You had to take a pregnancy test and pray to god that you weren’t pregnant.

***

As soon as you arrived at home, you raced into the bathroom and tore open the packet of tests.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” your cousin asked from outside the bathroom door and you quickly yelled out a quick “yes” before taking the pregnancy test out of the box and pulling down your pants.

You acted quickly and did what needed to be done. And then, you waited nervously for three months, purposely looking away from where you had placed the test.

Your mind was in overdrive now and your thoughts were plagued with “what ifs” and “whys”. These must have been the longest three minutes of your life.

Eventually, the time was up and you quickly picked up the test from the vanity and looked at with wide open eyes.

There were two lines glaring back at you and you heart began to sink.

The test showed you exactly what you didn't want to say to yourself, the very matter of believe you feared to be true.

You were pregnant with Cillian’s child, a child who you knew would most likely have to grow up without a father.

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you didn't attempt to stop them. This was a disaster and you knew that, having the baby, would change your life forever.

In your mind, you weighed up your options and the consequences of having this baby. You didn’t want a thing from this man who had hurt you so much and yet you were carrying a stark reminder of your affair inside of you,

With that, you knew what you were going to do as you rested your hand on your lower stomach, eyes closed.

"I'm so sorry. I can't keep you” you mumbled to yourself before you put your head down in to your hands and sobbed, the weight of what you were going to do hitting you.

You couldn't keep this child, even if you had wanted to.

***

Hearing you cry from the hallway, your cousin became concerned and, without any hesitation, entered the bathroom.

“Y/N, fuck! What’s the matter?” she asked while stepping up behind you and you couldn’t even form the words.

All you could do instead was cry and, when your cousin rested her hands on your body and looked over your shoulder, she realised what was going on.

“Oh my god Y/N. You are pregnant?” she asked somewhat surprised before handing you a tissue and, just as you nodded, you blurted out something that would shock her.

“I cannot keep it” you said, shaking your head and your cousin tried to reason with you.

“What makes you think that?” she asked and you then began to break down completely.

"Because I can’t do this on my own Elaine. I just can’t” you sobbed, holding onto her tightly.

“What about the father? He will support you, right?" Elaine asked, not knowing that you were seeing anyone in the first place.

“He won’t” you simply responded, shaking your head whilst, the truth was that Cillian’s support was the last thing you wanted.

“Why not? It takes two people to make a child, so it seems fair that…” your cousin began to say and you were quick to interrupt her.

“Because he has a family already. He is married” you cried, embarrassed and ashamed about what you had just admitted to your cousin.

“He is married?” she asked, shocked and confused. “You had an affair with a married man?” she then sought to clarify and you nodded again.

“I made a mistake. I should never have gotten involved with him and I am not going to break up his family over this. His children are older already and he would, no doubt, agree to just terminate the pregnancy” you told your cousin in light of the awful conversation you had with Cillian a few days ago which caused you to delete his phone number.

“He’s got a wife and children you say? How old is he then?” your cousin wanted to know and, whilst you didn’t think it mattered, you answered her nonetheless.

“He is in his early forties and, like I said, it was a mistake. We broke it off about six weeks ago and it was better this way” you explained, making it sound as though the decision to end this affair was a mutual one.

“Jesus Christ Y/N” your cousin said before realising that she probably shouldn’t judge you. Judging you could have made matters worse and, whilst she had her suspicions about who this mysterious 40 something year old man may have been, she kept any comments of disapproval to herself.

“I am such a fool” you cried against her shoulder nonetheless and Elaine hugged you tightly.

“You are not a fool and you can certainly do this on your own if you have to. You are strong woman Y/N and all I want is for you to have a think about your options. See a doctor and talk this through with a guidance counsellor. I know that the local community centre support young mothers for free until they are about 25. You may change your mind” your cousin said while holding onto your hands and you promised her that this was indeed what you were going to do.

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