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wntrnghts · 11 months

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the bigger cat ✦ p. sunghoon.

✦ your recently adopted kitten has been a distraction thanks to its overflowing energy. maybe sunghoon can help you with it. pairing: sunghoon × reader genre: romance; fluff. word count: 1,112 before you read/warnings: sunghoon’s a snow-leopard hybrid. note: hybrids won't be a recurring theme in my works, it's just that thanks to @moonlighthoon I've been introduced to snow-leopard-sunghoon and I had this idea while playing with my foster kitten; I almost had a cuteness-induced heart attack. anyway, enjoy.

It had been 15 minutes since you decided to leave your school assignment aside and committed to entertain the kitten you brought home on your walk back. It was white with beautiful blue eyes; you settled on the name Echo. To your surprise, the calm looking creature was a demon in disguise. After bathing her and letting her sleep for an hour or so, she came to ambush every one of your limbs that moved ever-so-slightly. If she wasn’t biting your feet over the blanket, she was jumping onto your hands, making it harder to finish an essay you had decided to specifically work on that same day. So you made up your mind; in order to work in peace, you needed to drain the energy out of her first.

Choosing an old shoelace as your weapon, you were determined to finish your new task fast, but as you shook and pulled and stretched your arm to actually keep the kitten’s attention on the shoelace, you noticed how difficult it would be. Your arm was already feeling sore about seven minutes in, and your movements became flabby, while the kitten seemed to have even more energy than before.

You laid on your belly at the edge of your bed when soft knocks were heard outside your door. You let them in and it’s only after you feel another weight fall onto the bed that your eyes diverted to Sunghoon, although your hand was still entertaining Echo. You smiled at him, and he left a quick peck on your lips as a greeting.

“Oh, by the way, this is Echo.” You introduced the kitten to your boyfriend, which you previously talked about with him via text, attaching a photo of her sleeping.

“I figured.” He pressed his lips together and nodded slightly, as if the mere presence of her bothered him.

“What’s that?” You asked looking at the book between his hands. Distracted enough, you lowered your hand, which the kitten unintentionally scratched during one of her attacks. You whined as your eyes looked back at the cat and the fresh wound started stinging.

Before Sunghoon could answer, he took your hand in his and gently pulled it towards him. “It’s a book for my literature class” he replied as he got a closer look at the scratch. Even though he made sure you were alright, he continued holding it. Your eyes stayed focused on your hands, sending you into a trance. Small things that proved his affection towards you and reminded you of your big fat crush.

“Didn’t you say you had an important essay to finish?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, and using a scolding tone in his voice. For some reason he even sounded annoyed, and you could feel his tail whip against your leg. Coming out of your daze, you slowly glanced at him, only to confirm by his ears facing outwards and the grimace on his face, which he tried to change into a smile that only looked painfully uncomfortable.

“I did,” you chuckled at his actions. “But little miss Echo here, thinks of my fingers as some type of worms to hunt, and even if I push her away, two seconds haven’t passed before she’s biting them again. So, now I’m trying to get her tired so she goes to sleep, and I can continue working.”

He softly nodded looking at the cat. “Although, to be honest,” you continued, making his gaze return to you and his ears perk up; you felt cupid’s arrow for the umpteenth time at the adorable sight. “I’m not even sure if it’s working. I’ve been doing this for almost fifteen minutes, and I think I’m more tired than her.” You regained your playing position with a sigh, hurting a little to let go of Sunghoon’s hand. “How nice would it be to have a third arm?” You voiced your thoughts. After a moment, you looked at him with a mischievous grin as he and yourself realized of a great idea– the worst idea you ever had if you asked him.

“Oh no. No, no.” He stood up and took a few steps back.

“Come on, Sunghoon. Please.” You sat on your heels, clasped your hands together and put on a pleading expression. “I’m in distress and am losing hope.” Exaggerating a bit wouldn’t hurt anyone, but you weren’t lying; you really were tired and needed to make major advance on the essay that day.

“No. I need to finish this for tomorrow. And I need my hands to turn pages and stuff.” He lifted the book and his voice lowered as he explained but couldn’t really come up with a better excuse. For some reason, Sunghoon wasn’t very fond of domestic cats– which you would’ve thought the opposite since half of him is a close relative to them.

“Please.” You insisted.

“No.”

“Sunghoon.”

“Y/N.”

“Please.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I won’t do it.”

Your hands fell to your sides in defeat. Letting yourself to be petty, you gave him a nasty look, and as you scanned him, another realization hit you. “Who said anything about using your hands?” You regained your smile, sparking a feeling of uneasiness in your boyfriend.

You were finally free. At the end, your boyfriend –practically forced– had agreed to help so you could focus on the assignment you were meant to undertake all along. You would check on Sunghoon as he sat on the floor leaning against the bed, the shoelace tied at the end of his tail; and with its natural movement and flinching Echo was having the time of her life.

“See? It isn’t so bad.” You scratched your boyfriend’s head. His ears twitching as a response.

He wasn’t actually bothered by it, just the occasional scratch that triggered a whine or groan; but his pride didn’t allow him to admit that and had him continue with his act. And you knew it, this pettiness wasn’t uncommon in your boyfriend, which made it easier to not feel guilty about making him do it. Aside from the scene being something that could make you go into shock from a cuteness overload.

You giggled and laid on your stomach on the bed, so your head was beside his, and gently kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Hoon.”

Sunghoon’s dimple peaked as he tried to retain his content, but said pride was no match to your affection displays and it started crumbling as he let his head hang low and a flustered smile formed on his lips. He sheepishly turned his head and locked his gaze with yours for a moment before doing the same with your lips.

#wntrnghts #winter ☁️#enhypen #enha #engene #enhypen engene #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon fic #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff

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jonah-hauer-kingofmyheart · 10 months

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Food

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jonah x Fem!Bulimic!Reader

Summary: You've been hiding something from your boyfriend, Jonah. Little do you know, he has some suspicions of his own

Warning: vomiting, r has bulimia, eating disorder, hurty fluff, soft

a/n: trigger warning

You and Jonah have been dating for almost 6 months. it pains you terribly to keep secrets from him, but 6 months is still to early to tell how he might react. You've always been insecure about your body, but have maintained a fit figure through exercising. This doesn't mean that your body's always been healthy, though. Your eating disorder has caused numerous health problems, and even erosion of your teeth. You've tried therapist after therapist but nothing seems to help. It happens each time you eat. If you're with your boyfriend, or other company, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Throw up. Splash water on your face. Slight primp then head back to the table. Jonah has noticed this pattern, but doesn't think much of it. He has noticed your thinness, but also your muscle, so he assumes your healthy. He cares so much, but doesn't want to pry.

It was a bit different than standard date night. Jonah decided that he would surprise you with a romantic dinner at home. At dinner time, he called your name from downstairs. After a final swipe of mascara, you called back "Coming!" And trotted down the stairs, taking in the sight of a table set for two, with steaming plates of pasta, a platter of warm bread, finished with two candlesticks, standing tall. Right beside your chair, ready to pull it out for you was your boyfriend. He had the biggest look of pride in himself. He was smiling so wide his dimples deepened and his eyes crinkled.

"Oh, Jonah!" You said, placing a hand over your heart, "I love it!"

You ran forward and embraced him, standing on your tiptoes to close the height difference so he could kiss you.

"Of course, love, only the best for the best."

You swore you physically swooned right then and there. You sat, savoring the delicious meal, cooked by Jonah, of course. You chatted about the silliest things, as though you were two kids on a first date. dinner was wrapped up, plates cleared, as you told Jonah you were just going to pop up to the bathroom. He acknowledged, and you left. Jonah pondered. He was a worried about you more these days. you seemed, if anything, to be... thinner than usual? Like a fragile leaf that could be swept out of his arms by a gentle gale. You hadn't returned after a few minutes, and Jonah, already concerned, decided to check on you. As he was coming up the stairs he heard it. The retching. Not wanting to alarm you, he gently knocked on the door and pressed his ear against it.

"Y/n? Babe? You ok?" he asked, concern drenching his words.

A moment of silence from wishing the bathroom as you sat there riddled with anxiety.

"I-" You started, but never finished.

"Y/n? I'm coming in, ok?"

The door clicked. It was a sad sight, Jonah, concerned, standing in the doorway, you, small, sad, defeated, sitting next to a toilet with floating bits of undigested food. Jonah collapsed next to you, stroking hair away from your face, and taking your hands. Neither of you said anything. You looked at him, he looked at you. Tears in both your eyes. You broke down in his arms. He held you, just letting you cry and cry as you needed. He stroked your hair and whispered sweet nothings to you. You looked up at him with a tear stained face.

"Love, what's wrong?" He asked, looking you in the eyes.

You sniffed, your eyes darting away. You defiantly stared at the wall as you told him. "I have bulimia." You confessed, your voice breaking. Jonah said nothing as he processed. You so dearly wished that he would. He swallowed hard, tears falling over his eyelashes as blinked tears. He looked down at you, wiping your tears before speaking.

"We'll get through this."

#jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king x reader

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

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hello!~ o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

can i request headcanons for kaeya, diluc, childe, and venti on what they would while their s/o dies in their arms? (if thats okay with u <3)

thank u sm! :))

BESTIE THE PAIN I FEEL RN!!! Omw to make hurt some of my faves hope you enjoy <3

Also guys I’ve been here for a day how are there almost 50 of you following?!

Pairings; (Separate) Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Venti x reader

Warning(s); hurt, big hurty, reader death, vague wound description, cursing, talk about dead bodies

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were meant to live forever with him. You were supposed to grow old with him and become a parent to your future children. You were-

“Kaeya” you choke out smiling at your partner above you. The man shakes his head mentally pleading with you to not die “Kaeya I will always be on the wind” you tell him, a shaky, bloody hand raised to his cheek to weekly caress it

“Please” he pleads “Please don’t die on me [name]” you smile at him feeling the breaths in your lungs disappear

“I’m sorry Kae--ya” you apologise before passing away in his arms

He doesn’t move for a long time. He doesn’t feel for a long time. The one person he could share his secrets and his love to gone. Away with the wind

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he’ll remember this one.

Your beaten, bruised, broken, dead, and beautiful body slumped in his arms as his tears fall from his face as he feels an absence in his heart

How is he supposed to live on if this is the pain he feels right now?

Jean eventually stumbles upon Kaeya out in the wilds, still clutched to your now cold and even more lifeless body

Jean manages to get the man up with your body held close to his chest

“Jean, I can’t, I can’t let them go” he pleads as if he’s waiting for you to simply wake up in his arms

“Kaeya...” Jean says in a concerned tone having never seen him in such a state, even he seemed to quickly recover from his fathers death

Eventually Jean coaxed Kaeya to go back to the city and leave your body in the hands of the sisters. Where they dressed you up and prepared a funeral service for you

The funeral was larger than Kaeya was expecting, you had affected a many more people than he realised from your small jobs around the city. Kaeya can’t help but be awed at how many people you’ve helped while you were in Mond

The usual chatter of Mondstat is quiet and in a time of grieving for about a week or so, many people have wonderful memories of you and Kaeya seems to be collecting them all, that and bunches of flowers. Many of which find themselves laying on your tombstone as Kaeya tells you about his day

A month passes and it seems like everything's back to normal, Kaeya is back to his outgoing self. He spends more nights at the tavern, but even Diluc doesn’t have the heart to cut him off.

Jean seems to pick up on the smallest things, goddamnit Jean, the extra nights at the tavern, the eyebags, the weeping she can hear from his room. In it’s own right is heart-breaking, the acting Grandmaster cannot imagine what it’s like to be actually experiencing that kind of pain

Diluc

No, not like this

You had both decided that night to join each other in your little vigilante escapade. Which was fine you had both done this before, but tonight resulted in something very different

Here you are, head on Dilucs lap. This could be considered romantic, and often was, were it not for the fact you felt like you choked up a mixture of your lung and your bloody supply

“Diluc” you speak with a much worse for wear voice, the red-head looks into your eyes, eyes already gaining moisture. A similar scene has befallen him before, a Diluc knows how this ends

“Please” he pleads his voice wavering “Please don’t leave me” he chokes back a sob and tears fall off his face the salt hitting your own

“I love you so much” you start, Diluc shakes his head. Must you hurt him so with last words? “Don’t blame yourse-” another set of hacking befalls you as you lose more blood

“Please” he pleads again as the grip you had on his arm goes slack indicating your loss of life

Diluc screams, he cries and he hugs you close. He screams into the air of Mondstat until his voice hurts and he cries until all he’s doing is dry sobbing and he holds you close until you’re broken body is pried from his own broken mind

A wondering Jean heard his screams into the night sky and hereby answered them. She never expected to see Diluc, still in his vigilante getup, crying over your body

She calls for more guards who take your body from his and Jean helps Diluc get back to the estate. At one point during the walk Jean can feel DIluc shaking and hyperventilating. So they stand for a moment, Jean holds and comforts the wine-master before they move again

Jean has never seen such emotion from Diluc before, and she wholeheartedly hopes she’ll never have to see it again. Seeing Diluc so raw and rife with emotion is enough to make anyone cry. And Jean nearly did on more than one occasion.

Your funeral is small, much to Dilucs request and really only were attended by the estate and Jean. Diluc didn’t want to cry again in such a large audience

Though the maids often hear pained sobs coming from Dilucs room as he contemplates and often blames himself for what had transpired. Maids daren’t speak up about what they hear though, Diluc’s pain is more than understandable

Diluc throws himself into work opting to man the bar most days of the week and fighting for the city as often as he can. People around him are more than concerned

Diluc’s stoic nature seems to be intensified now, not wanting to let another person in and die in his arms. He’s seen enough death for his life and wishes not to lose more loved ones

Everything seems to have moved back to what life was before you arrived in your life, depressive, monotonous, boring, mundane for the most part and sad. So very sad

He wishes for a day where his heart isn’t strife with grief, but he doubts that day will not be coming anytime soon

Childe

You grin up at him, feeling close to naught pain coming from the gaping wound thanks to the excess of adrenaline that’s pumping through your body

“Childe” you say the smile still on your lips in an attempt at not making the situation as dark and horrific as it is. Childe speaks your name in return

“I love you” you tell him mustering the strength to cup the mans cheek, who immediately nuzzles into it. The situation almost doesn’t feel real to him. He’s going to be shaken awake by a very unwounded you in just a moment and inform him he’s having a nightmare

But that moment doesn’t come. Nor do any words come from you. Your slow rhythms of your heart remind you that he’s still got time, but you’ve expended all your energy. Your smile you’re wearing seems to be dropping

“I love you [name], I love you so much, you are everything I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” he rambles bringing your body to his chest

“Live for--- me” you sputter out into his chest, a dying wish that Childe isn’t too sure he can uphold. Is it really living if he’s an empty vessel.

You go limp in his arms and he can no longer sense your heartbeat. Death had finally laid claim to you

Childe sits with you for hours, you’d expect him to be wailing like a banshee if you knew his personality but that’s rather not the case. Sobbing quietly is a better word for what happens. Most of his sobs and hacks for air are hidden in your hair. He pulled your body to his shoulder just to weep

Eventually he finds himself mustering the courage to walk back to Liyue Harbour. You firmly held in his arms. He knows that if he walks too plainly the Millelith would pry and ask too many questions for his fragile heart to answer

Childe ends up barging into the wangsheng funeral parlour, which surprises Zhongli a little. He’s about to go on a rant to Childe about how he must book an appointment, until he sees your lifeless body in his arms

The funeral is arranged quickly and neatly. There aren’t many people who attend, Childe is okay with that, he secretly wants to see his family and cry on their shoulder a bit

Instead he opts for a letter, which arrives to the family tear stained and lacking the usual penmanship ‘I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see [name] after all. They passed away not too long ago...’ he basically writes your arbitrary in the letter. And his whole heart is in every word he writes

Determined not to let anybody in Childe finds himself in a pattern, when he’s not throwing himself into battles he’s doing paper work or yelling at his subordinates and when he’s not doing that he’s doing his weekly fight with the traveller. Childe gets next to no sleep and instead opts to reading and rereading every letter and note you’ve ever given him

If Childe passes out at his desk nobody bothers him either in fear of getting yelled at by the harbinger or an understanding of losing a loved one

They never said being a harbinger was fulfilling work. Yet, he let himself believe that he could be fulfilled and content with a lover. What a shameful lie

Venti

He’s awfully quiet. He hasn’t experienced death in so long. Especially one he thought would be forever.

He couldn’t even get to you to hear your last words. Ironic isn’t it? He hadn’t heard that guys last words either. And yet this pains him so much more

Sure mortal lives are fleeting but he was certain he had more time with you. More time to see you grow old, more time to put off your inevitable mortality. More time to-

He’s hyperventilating, Venti’s body shakes as he finds nothing to ground himself not even the person he loves so dear is there for him. He feels like he could explode, breaths caught in his throat refusing to surface and come up for air. Despite being an immortal archon, the breaths that refuse to surface don’t fail to make him feel like he’s choking

A bard he is. And one that knows every song from the past, present and future. Suddenly the pained songs from the future make sense to him. He knew what was written. A love lost

Suddenly he finds himself crying and hunched over your deceased form making promises to the wind that he’ll never forget you. Much like he’ll ever forget that bard

He isn’t sure how long has passed but he’s still sobbing over your form, there aren’t many tears left for him to cry but he can’t find himself stopping. He feels like they’ll never stop.

Maybe he could lay beside you and sleep for another thousand years. But that would only delay the inevitable. The inevitable sinking feeling.

Maybe it was his fault for letting himself fall in love with a mortal, but in the moment he could truly see you living life with him. He could see a marriage, children. He wanted you to have it all.

Damn celestia and all things above for not letting you ascend, at least when he inevitably ascends you’ll be there to greet him. Curse that and your mortality

Jean eventually stumbles upon him during a recon mission to find him covering your body in various flowers, a crown made of cecelias don your head. He’s quiet, but he’s saying goodbye. Who would blame him? Jean doesn’t interrupt him and only wishes you a farewell

News of your death spread around town like wildfire, your grave donned with more flowers than Venti can count. He almost feels bad about not doing a public service after seeing how many people are truly in mourning

Diluc doesn’t push Venti to pay his growing tab no matter how much he should. And Diluc doesn’t say no to Venti singing his happy tunes in the tavern

It feels like his life has retuned to normal. Though Jean can’t help but look out the library window to see Venti sat atop his statue with an expression, as Jean can only guess, of sadness.

Venti finds himself going back to an old schedule again but he can’t miss the nagging feeling of somethings missing. The something being you

Sometimes he half expects you to hug him from behind, or join him up at the statue, or kiss him on his nose, or-

Venti can’t quite comprehend how he feels, he just knows there’s a hole in his heart where you belonged. And he doesn’t want to let anyone find their way into there

He doesn’t want to lose again

It’s happened too much

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justasimplesinner · 3 years

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Please for the love of fuck give me a happy ending to the riddler/scarecrow breaking hcs that may or may not start off with the reader running into them again and being understandably pissed. I just want to throw a vase at Eddie. I can have a mature conversation with Johnathan with some raised voices and some crying from both parties but I want to throttle that green goblin lookin motherfucker. I want to see fear in that man's eyes as I curbstomp his stank ass for living in my head and never paying rent. Cause that shit broke me no pun intended.

I'm a soft bitch I need someone to put a bandaid on the hurtie and kiss is to make it feel better.

ugh, you fuckin' softies. continuation of this post

Arkham Knight!Riddler getting his happy ending hcs:

like i stated in the previous post, you two may have not been together anymore, but that didn't mean he'd leave you alone. you were the last bit of his sanity, at this point, he didn't know how to live without you. he was constantly lying to himself and you about the motives behind his calls and visits, but truth was, he was just trying to cling on. he couldn't let you go, you were his raft in the middle of the fucking ocean, if he let you go, he'd... he wouldn't survive that. he didn't know how

but it doesn't mean that this whole thing sat well with you. fucking bastard, neglects you for years, treats you like the very dirt he walks on and now has the gall to fucking invade your private space? ruin you completely? it's like it didn't matter if you were with him or not, he'd still find a way to fucking destroy you. and you, on one hand, genuinely wanted out. you wanted him out of your life, because you had only one and you didn't want to live it in misery, you didn't want to just suffer and take it like a good puppy. you weren't even sure he realised the extent to which he fucking hurt you, because he was constantly focusing on himself and no one else, because selfishness was his coping mechanism and he wouldn't change

it was only logical that at some point, you'd have enough. you didn't want to fucking live like this. he didn't have a right to just sit there and do nothing and yet simultaneously do damage. he was a grown fucking man and it was time he made a grown fucking choice

– Well, well, well, look who decided to finally show up-... – you didn't give him the chance to finish, your fist connecting hard with his nose, or maybe it was his cheek, though you hoped it was his eye so it'd hurt the most. You didn't really know, you didn't really care, you've had fucking enough. You knew he was there, in your house, before he even opened his yapping mouth, and you didn't fancy being greeted in your only safe (or, apparently, not-so-safe) space by a fucking insult from the man responsible for all your current misery.

You didn't feel a pang of regret, quite the contrary, his stumbling form and widened eyes gave you this weird feeling of satisfaction. You kind of understood why Batman did what he did, beating Ed's ass was just too rewarding.

– I've had fucking enough of you and your stupid charade! – you didn't plan on beating around the bush anymore, it was time he was fucking faced with the consequences of what he did.

He didn't have the time to recover from your last blow before the first thing you could grab collided with his shoulder - a vase, apparently, and it shattered into small pieces upon impact. Great, now he fucking ruined your favourite vase, too, as if your life wasn't enough for him!

– You have no right to fucking invade my house and treat me like shit even after I've dumped you! – with every word, with every step you took forward, he took one back, eyes wide in genuine fear as he tried to back away from you, maintain a safe distance, as if anything could save him from your wrath now.

– If I mean nothing to you, then why the fuck are you even here?! Why the fuck do you insist on getting me all tangled up in your stupid games?! I'm not gonna fucking sit here and take it like an obedient pet just because you can't get over the fact that we're not together anymore! – you raged on, and you had no intention of stopping, you watched him back away, you watched him stupidly bump into the side of your couch and fall on his stupid fucking ass. He deserved to fall on the floor, not on a set of nice, comfy pillows. But he had no way out now. He had nowhere to run, not when you fucking rounded up on his shock-still form.

– I-... – he dared to try and interrupt you and it was truly the last straw, it was all you needed to have angry tears blur your vision and your hands clenched in fists again.

– You never even fucking apologized to me for anything either! Did it ever fucking occur to you that if, instead of tormenting me and calling me an idiot, you just fucking said you're sorry, pushed your idiotic pride aside and genuinely fucking said you're sorry, then I would've taken you back?! That maybe we wouldn't be here, in this fucking situation, if you just weren't selfish for once and apologized for all the shit you did to me, all the pain you've put me through-

– I'm sorry. – it was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. So shaky and breathy, so fucking... guilty. Heartbroken. So utterly pathetic. Just like he was, just like he looked. Just like you wanted him to be, but now that he was, you hated it. You hated his glossed over, wide eyes, the shame in them, the guilt, the pain. You hated his arms, slightly risen in a protective manner because he expected another blow. He deserved another one, but... it's like he was just a child then. Just this small, broken boy that was afraid to admit he was wrong, that was afraid of the punishment that awaited for him. And all over again, he made you want to pull him close to your chest and kiss it all better, make it so he'd never experience this pain again. And you hated yourself for it.

you've destroyed the fucking dam then. you haven't heard this man apologize to you once in your entire life, and suddenly, you were swarmed with sorries, with regrets and sorrows and his tears. suddenly, he remembered every smallest thing he ever did that made you upset, and he apologized over and over, for everything and anything, and you thought he was going to suffocate with how he was crying and rambling on your couch

god, he wasn't fucking worth it, you knew that, but suddenly, he was in your arms again, and you were soothing his shaking form, again. you were back there to ground him, to comfort him, to make him feel loved, even if he didn't deserve it. you were there to listen to his - probably empty - promises to change, even though you knew he most likely didn't have the power to change at this point, and god dammit - you believed it. or wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that maybe you were important and that maybe he will put the effort in changing for you this time as you kissed him breathless and let him cling onto you for dear life. you wanted to believe that he deserved a(nother) second chance and that there was still hope for him as you clung right back. you missed having him right there, in your embrace. despite everything. and maybe you were just plain out stupid, or maybe he truly made a promise he, for once, intended to keep. and honestly? you weren't sure if you were ready to find out

you also apologized for throwing a vase at him. he wasn't mad. if he was, you'd throw another one. he had no right to be mad

Arkham Knight!Jon getting his happy ending hcs:

Jon genuinely thought about seeking you out, hoping that maybe that would give him some closure, that it would make him able to work and function properly again. but he realised how stupid, how selfish and disgusting that was. he swore to himself he won't even fucking force you to look at his ugly mug again. he had no right to come to you, expecting the person he pushed away in order to work to help him get back to work. he didn't fucking deserve to even breathe the same air as you

he kept tabs on you though. he had to know where you lived now, where you worked, and knowing where you were at all times would be ideal too, but he didn't dare go that far as to have someone stalk you. it's not out of some creepy obsession, it's actually out of... concern. sounds ridiculous, especially since he hadn't expressed any concern for you for the past few months, but he... he really didn't want to ever hurt you again. even accidentally. even if you were to be collateral damage. he needed to know the places he could target and the places he couldn't, he needed to know when, where and on who he could test his freshest batches and when, where and on who he couldn't. he hurt you enough. he destroyed your mind enough. he wasn't about to subject you to your worst fears too

but a reunion was inevitable, it seemed. one way or another, fate was bent on bringing you two back together. and so, he missed the fact that you changed your jobs and started working at Ace Chemicals, front desk actually, passing around exactly the information he needed about the company, it's building and resources

You genuinely couldn't believe your fucking eyes. You couldn't believe his cheek. The gall he had to be standing right here, in front of you, in his tattered, dirty "glory", milky eyes seeming wild behind the mask, as if he didn't expect you to be here. As if he hadn't planned it all.

– What are you doing here? – you didn't even have the strength to get angry at him anymore. You just resigned yourself to the fact that he was going to haunt you every single day for the rest of your life, be it in person or as a fleeting thought in your mind. You weren't allowed to get rid of him. You weren't allowed to forget.

– I could be asking you the same question. – his tone was hard to decipher. As if it was emotionless, but at the same time wasn't. Like there was something behind it, something he didn't want you to see. Something he himself wasn't ready to face.

You were already too exhausted mentally to give a shit.

– I work here. – you sighed, using that mocking tone he always used on you whenever you asked "stupid" questions. Funny, how one day he tells you there are no stupid questions and that you can always ask away, that he will always listen, and then treats you like an idiot when you do.

And yet you still loved his sarcasm, loved his quips and biting remarks. This was who he was, and you did, after all, love him as a whole.

– I didn't know that. – you were actually ready to believe that, what with how he was still standing there, practically in the doorway. He didn't round up on you yet, he didn't corner you like you were his prey. Actually, it seemed he thought you were the predator, like he was... scared to come closer.

Maybe that was better for the two of you. Who know what you'd do if he started to come at you like he owned you and this whole place.

– Oh, didn't you now? – you couldn't allow him to know though. It was his turn to get the cold shoulder for once. Not that he cared enough to be hurt by it. Not that he ever cared. About you, about anything. Anything but his work.

Jesus, fuck, you couldn't break down in front of him. You already did in the past. Way too many times. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

– You shouldn't've gotten a job here. – he seemed to feel as if he had it anyway – I work with chemicals on a daily basis and you know I'm planning to gas the entire city, it is only logical for me to take advantage of having a huge chemical factory right in the middle of it. It was obvious I'd come here sooner or later. – every word he said, he took a step closer to the desk. Every word he said, he beat you down into the ground harder. Obviously, you were in the wrong. Yet again. Always your fault. Why would you distract him from his goal yet again? Why would you meddle? It seemed that even if you didn't want to, you proved to be an inconvenience, a chink in the chain that was his research. It didn't matter what you did, it was never going to be good enough.

You two weren't compatible, after all.

– Yep, I'm stupid, I get it. Go on, psychoanalize me too, tell me how I did it knowingly just because I wanted to see you again. – you couldn't stop yourself from snarling at him. As always, he only came to you to break down what you've so carefully built back together. It was always that way, if you really thought about it. Every time you were starting to get used to his absence, starting to truly live on your own, he suddenly appeared, acted like everything was fine, acted like he loved you, and you believed it like the fool you were. You believed it and then he left you alone again. You believed it and then you woke up to an empty bed again. Every single time.

Maybe you really were a fucking idiot.

– And did you? – or maybe he was one, because this comment only resulted in riling you up more and yet he dared to fucking ask.

– I fucking hate you Jon. – you weren't ready to believe that what he just did at your words was flinching. That it hurt enough for him to physically move away. – If I wanted to look at your face again, I'd just turn on the news.

– I don't want to hurt you. – that was bullshit. He never did anything else. Hurting you was what he was best at, and he prided himself in it. – But I need access to the vast supply of chemicals your workplace has to offer. – even when you two fucking argued, it always came down to his work. Even when you told him you hated him, all he offered back was that he didn't care and came here just to get shit done. He didn't even fucking care enough to at least say he hates you back.

– You don't want to hurt me? That's a new one. – you were really tempted to just roll your eyes and go back to work. To ignore him, like he always did to you. But suddenly, you realised just how close he was. Practically leaning over the desk. His scarred face hooded and covered in a mask, hidden away from you. That face you wanted to stare into every time you woke up, that face you wanted to be the last thing you saw every day you went to sleep. That face that you wanted to kiss better, to make him know. Make him know you didn't mind. Make him know he was still handsome as ever. He never believed you, and you saw that. You saw that very clearly in his milky eyes. It's like they were fogged, like his mind was surrounded with fog and blurred reality with imagination, like there was this barrier between the two of you.

It wasn't there at first. But then he changed, and you didn't really know who he was anymore.

– I'm sorry. – it felt like pity. Like he pitied you. Like he was saying it just so you'd shut the fuck up and move out of his way at last.

And maybe it was better if you did.

– Save it. I won't get in the way of your plans, don't worry. I'm not getting paid enough to sacrifice myself for this place either way. – you were gathering your things, leaving the computer on, the information unguarded. You could use a day off, anyway. To cry in peace or whatever.

No such luck apparently, since Jonathan immediately had you in a grip, his fingers flexing against your arms.

– No, (Y/n). I'm sorry.

you really weren't ready for that conversation. not at all. you would never be ready for that. seeing Jon apologizing, hell, seeing him crying, genuinely crying in front of you, over you, wasn't something you ever expected to see. Jonathan, despite being a skilled psychologist, never really talked about his emotions. he was always hellbent on talking through yours - well, at the beginning he was, until the whole "spiralling into his obsession" thing started. then, he stopped, because he didn't have time for you. or, as he now explained, didn't have the courage to face how much he's hurt you. you really wanted to fucking punch him then, when he told you that he knew. that he knew all the time what he was doing, and yet never stopped, as if he purposefully sabotaged your relationship so you'd leave him. you knew he had his problems and you couldn't blame him for that, but you could blame him for running away from them. you could blame him for treating you like shit since he woke up from his short coma after the incident with Killer Croc. hell, he took the blame full on

you've never heard him so... bare. so raw. so vulnerable. when he apologized to you, thanked you for everything you ever fucking did, for always helping him, for sticking by him for that long, for enduring him and showing him how it feels to be loved, he was but a broken man. for the first time in... assumably ever, Jonathan didn't hide behind any walls and just... let the words flow. both of you knew that wasn't enough to compensate for what he did. nothing will ever be enough. he will never give you back everything that he took from you, and your heart will never fully heal. even if you two got back together, he wouldn't resign from his research either, and more likely than not, it was all going to end exactly the same, with him hiding away from you because apparently, acting like he didn't love you saved you from the heartbreak, and you having to mend your broken heart on your own, alone, knowing you will never get all your lost time back. you will never get back the time you spent crying in your home because you knew he wasn't coming. and yet, you - like the idiot you probably were - dived right back in. because you fucking loved him. and maybe it was stupid, and maybe his arms clinging onto you as you kissed him for the first time in months were stupid too, but if being stupid meant being happy, even for just one moment, you were going to take it

Jonathan still had a lot to make up for. you didn't think he will ever manage, honestly. but you were excited to see him try

#riddler #edward nigma #edward nygma #the riddler #jonathan crane #scarecrow #the scarecrow #arkhamverse #batman arkham knight #my writing #headcannons #drabble #angst #a sprinkle of fluff #kinda bittersweet #panshrekual iii

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sugawara-sweetheart · 4 years

Note

Hi neems 💓 here for the fmk event 🥰 could i please request kuroo, daichi, and iwaizumi with prompts #21 from smut, #22 from fluff, and #1 from angst please? So so excited to see what you come up with neems 💞 thanks for doing this! Mwah 💖

hi!! i hope you enjoy this and thanks for requesting ily🥺💞

fmk & prompts | daichi, iwaizumi & kuroo

warnings: nsfw, fellatio, angry sex?, choking

fuck: kuroo tetsurō

21. argument to turn into sex

kuroo was usually the more rational ones in arguments. he tried not to get wound up, tried not to yell, tried not to shoot poisonous sharp words at you- but it meant that his anger manifested in other ways.

such as locking his fingers around your throat, pressing on the delicate sides to watch your eyes widen and your yells cut off into breathy gasps. he pushes you against the wall, panting as he rolls his hips into yours, letting you feel his hardening cock press into your abdomen and from the way your eyes glaze over and your thighs press together he knows your hot anger is dissipating into fiery lust.

“i’ve had enough of you running your mouth, kitten.” kuroo growls, his hot breath ghosting your lips before he places an oddly tender kiss to them. “i’m sick of this argument so let’s just make up. you know what to do to apologise.”

you’re so good, sliding down to your knees and taking out his cock, pumping him to full hardness. you look so pretty and obedient when you wrap your pretty lips around his length, letting him fuck his anger and annoyance into your face. it’s a much better way to resolve tension with you to have your cheeks hollowed, hair gripped tightly in his fists with saliva and precum and tears dripping down your face as he thrusts his cock all the way to the back of your throat. your gags sound so pretty with his moans.

but arguments always have two sides. and you get your turn by pushing kuroo into a chair and riding his cock over and over, tits bouncing and your cunny dripping all over his cock and balls, using him to make yourself cum again and again. at least whatever you’re arguing about gets forgotten when you end up collapsing in bed together.

marry: iwaizumi hajime

22. “wow i married you.”

iwaizumi loves to have the evenings lounging on the couch with you cuddled between his legs. he’s watching tv whilst you’re scrolling through your phone when suddenly you turn to him, a cheeky grin tugging at your lips.

“hey, hajime, i have a joke for you!” he hums, looking down at you and trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes; you weren’t very funny and often you told him the same jokes. “what time does the man go to the dentist’s? tooth-hurty!” you burst out laughing, your bright sounds of joy filling the room as iwaizumi sighs, rubbing at the crease between his brows.

“wow i married you.” he shakes his head with a tut, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you continue to laugh to yourself, tears almost streaming from the corners of your crinkled eyes. but seeing you look so happy, so beautiful over a stupid joke makes iwaizumi’s lips stretch out into a smile and he can’t help the laughter that flows from him too. he’s happy he married you for a multitude of reasons and although he’ll never admit, the painfully stupid jokes were sadly one of them, if it means he gets to see you looking so happy and beautiful he wouldn’t have you any other way.

kill: sawamura daichi

1. “you really didn’t notice, did you? congratulations, you just broke my heart.”

he thought he was the one. it’s what you told him all that time.

soulmates.

except you decided you weren’t anymore.

“i’m sorry-“ you’re cut off by daichi’s harsh scoff. it’s sardonic. it’s easier to laugh at the situation than to be sad, disappointed, heartbroken because then the reality will truly settle in.

“daichi,” you say quietly, head hanging sheepishly. “i can’t pretend anymore.” he doesn’t want to look at you, fury and pain just mixing together too much in his blood. he stares at your packed suitcases before turning away. the gleam of the diamond ring you’ve left on the table catches his eye.

“i should’ve seen it coming.” he mumbles, shaking his head as all the memories of recent months, of you pulling away in favour of your new friend, the one you clicked with so well, the one daichi tried not to get so jealous of because somehow you just fit so much better with him than you did with daichi.

“what?” you whisper, your eyes glassy as you stare at your ex-lover.

“you’ve been falling in love with him all this time. you really didn’t notice, did you?” daichi chuckles mirthlessly. “congratulations, you just broke my heart.” he hears you apologise over and over, claiming you didn’t mean it and you could still be friends and other things but it’s all white noise because he’s mourning the loss of his soulmate- that’s if he ever was yours in the first place.

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robotslenderman · 3 years

Text

Eternal Hearts Liveblog, pt 1

Special thanks to @missn11, who is probably mortified their name is associated with this travesty of a post, for letting me get my filthy little hands on this piece of embarrassing VTM history.

Okay guys, time to do the thing that’s gonna get me cancelled by fifteen-year-olds in the year 2032:

I’m gonna liveblog Eternal Hearts.

I once promised myself I would never make a rape joke, but today I break that vow because even the rape scenes are (sometimes) just that fucking ridiculous that I had to make fun of them.

This book is just.

Guys.

It’s GLORIOUS.

In the first twenty-four pages alone we have:

A guy is confronted by a locked door, so he whips his dick out. Everyone else acts like this is completely normal.

A guy meeting Final Death because a politician sat on his face. RIP in pieces Noah.

A mortal setting herself on fire, waving her arms around and running at a bunch of vampires yelling “DIE, YOU BASTARDS!”

A guy using his dick as a key ring. (Yeah, it’s the locked door guy.)

Lucita given the Hallowe’en treatment, in that she’s covered with sewage -- but sexy!

Daddy kink on top of the Washington monument.

Only some of the above makes sense in context. Some of it is as baffling in context as it is out of context.

This is the funniest shit I’ve ever read. Nobody told me about this when I went in holy shit.

Time to open this sucker up!

Liveblog under the cut!

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING. IF YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT ETERNAL HEARTS IS, DO NOT READ THIS LIVEBLOG, HOLY SHIT.

You’re in for a ride, and it’s the edgiest, unsexiest ride ever.

First thing I notice: Eternal Hearts is, in fact, written by a woman. Which may mean that if she wanted to scare the shit out of her female readers, she'd know exactly how to do it.

gulp.

(^ I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna traumatise myself by reading this. OH BOY)

Next bit, the rape book is opened by the following foreword:

What follows is an essay that basically boils down to "no! :D but we wrote it anyway!”

Partway through that is this quote:

We’ll come back to that quote later. Several times, I predict.

Aaaand we open straight into a gang rape scene! Oh joy. And there’s church spires, to make it extra edgy.

Oh but then they give her the Kiss so she enjoys it! Yay!

Oh.

She's a shovelhead.

They never mentioned THIS part of the Sabbat recruitment process.

and now she's underground and buried and being raped again? Somehow. Like somebody’s got their entire goddamn fist in there. While under six feet of dirt. I know someone’s got their entire damn fist in there because the Shovelhead’s thinking about how somebody got their entire goddamn fist in there.

(Yeah this is the bit I had to make jokes about because it was that fucking ridiculous. I started this out trying to be respectful. I failed. Miserably. I just can’t fucking do it this is too -- too -- Eternal Hearts-y.)

Like the author just turned to the other people in the credits page and pitched this idea: “guys. Hear me out. What do you think is scarier than being raped or being buried alive?”

“idk what?”

“being raped after being buried alive!”

“That’s a GREAT idea!”

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” Remember that quote? Thank god for that.)

Jean - for that is our poor Shovelhead's name, RIP - seems only mildly concerned about the rape. and the fact it’s still happening.

Like yeah, serious talk, putting my respectful hat on: to be fair, everyone responds to trauma differently. You know how I respond to trauma? I make jokes about it. Like I’m the kind of person to say “what are you gonna do, STAB ME?” for the lols when a guy is pointing a knife at me.

Okay, respectful hat back off, back to edgy humour.

Anyway she’s being fisted by somebody while also six feet underground, somehow, and daydreaming about the guy she’s stalking and about how she’s in love with him, hmm, maybe he had something to do with it? She’s not entirely sure.

(ETA: So an anonymous Discord friend was reading my liveblog and said this:

and I laughed so hard my dog actually pawed at me because she was worried.

Yeah, I’m going to hell, but at least I know I’m taking you guys with me.)

Anyway she starts digging her way out, and I guess she’s still being fisted while she’s digging her way out???? IDK they didn’t say it stopped??? Like that’s gotta make digging your way out difficult.

And then cut to Lucita!

Walking past a protest outside a sex shop. There’s a bunch of Christian protestors outside because they’re bored or something. We get straight back into rapiness with a Dominate:

Damn Lucita, if jizzing your own brains isn't the hottest image you can give a guy, I don't know how what is.

Lucita decides to snack instead of raping him, but does sexually assault him by taking his dick from his pants and leaving it in his hand when he’s unconscious.

Lucita walks into a meeting at a brothel. There are “slaves”. I’m not sure if they’re sex slaves or if they’re actually ghouls, but then again, this is Eternal Hearts so probably both.

She expects Pieterzoon to be there, but he's not. When the others start talking like he's missing, she is completely unconcerned and immediately starts talking as if she knows he's missing.

They move on. Pieterzoon has paid Lucita to assassinate Marcus Vitel. Good fucking luck with that one. Everyone at the meeting is trying to stop her from doing it. Lucita’s like “tough shit he’s already paid me bitch is gonna die”.

Also the Brujah woman present is apparently this scene’s titillation or something because the author loves to remind us about how tight her clothes are and how she's "seductively cuddling" people.

no fucking kidding

I like how the VTM universe goes out of its way to avoid using the terms “son” and “daughter” to avoid the Unfortunate Implications when people inevitably start fucking their Sires

and the author’s like "nah fuck that let’s daddy kink it up.”

Oh and he does it ON TOP OF THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT!! Like gang rape in a churchyard wasn’t edgy enough I guess.

the author can't go a paragraph without reminding us that sex exists and everyone is utterly sex crazed. The bit I blacked out above? That was Lucita daydreaming about hiring a prostitute. Like that’s not erotica, erotica is arousing, this is just voyeurism.

Lucita apparently hasn't yet noticed she's in a porno.

Somebody makes a joke about the Christian protestors gang raping the prostitutes outside. It’s a Ventrue. Of course it is.

Apparently the slave (I guess the word “ghoul” isn’t sexy enough) in the above screenshot is a fucking senator. Pun not intended. She soothes the cranky Brujah by suggesting they get somebody called Torres deported? I have no idea what that has to do with Lucita assassinating Marcus Vitel, but there's almost certainly going to be fucking involved.

(ETA 23/1/21 -- I regret to inform you all that there wasn’t “fucking” involved so much as gang rape. Never mind.)

Lucita and the Brujah guy almost start stabbing each other (so much for that soothing), but somebody has just set the brothel on fire so they have to GTFO.

The mortal senator can't quite fit inside the escape tunnel because her skirt is huge and keeping it on is apparently more important than not dying of smoke inhalation. But it’s okay, she manages it.

The skirt will be important later, unfortunately.

They come to a locked door in the passage. Oh no, whatever will they do?

Will they take a key out of their pocket and unlock it?

Nah, that’s too fucking sensible.

The Brujah that tried to punch Lucita whips out his dick.

Yes.

He actually fucking does that.

Weird flex, but okay.

(ETA 21/1/21 -- I just realised... what if it’s somebody ELSE’S penis he just whipped out? Like the thing was actually just chilling out and he pulls it out the way somebody else pulls out a cucumber. It’s not attached to his body, it’s just THERE?)

Everyone is completely unfazed by this. Both by the fact he whipped his dick out, and the fact he uses it as a fucking key ring.

Like. Is this a habit of his????? APPARENTLY IT IS.

(ETA: Anonymous Discord friend says:

SDFADLFJASDLFJASDF)

They end up in a sewer.

Garinson keeps a key to a sewer on his dick key ring.

(”Lucy didn’t even break the rules as much as I was willing to let her” yeah I just remembered another place more fitting for a sewer key)

THEN!!!

PLOT TWIST!!

The senator suddenly threatens everyone with a lighter!!

After the kindred are done laughing their ass off, she covers herself in whiskey, sets herself on fire and charges them.

I'm sorry but the way it's worded - pin wheeling, cringing - just makes this the funniest shit. It gets even funnier when you remember they’re knee-deep in water. Ever tried to run in water? It’s. not exactly easy. So presumably she’s tripping and stumbling the entire time and somehow still on fire as she does so.

A kindred tries to escape by clawing his way up the wall. He falls. The senator assassinates him by flinging her skirt over his head and sitting on his face. That part of her is also on fire. The skirt and her thighs are on fire.

And I guess they’re obviously not thigh-deep in water any more ‘cause the poor fuck doesn’t survive this.

what a way to fucking go: death by fire pussy.

Everyone panics, except Lucita, who's like "fuck this", cuts off her head, puts out the corpse, then, uh. uses it as a shield against the remaining flames. as you do.

(Between that and the above screenshot, there’s graphic descriptions of what, exactly, the fire is doing to the senator, and how said senator doesn’t give a flying fuck that fire is kinda hurty because she hates vampires that fucking much.)

Lucita meets a Nosferatu who offers to guide her from the sewers. On the next page, we have an illustration of Lucita, in sewage, looking up at the Nosferatu.

You couldn’t possibly make that picture sexy, could you?

Welp the artist went “Challenge accepted!”

So I wanted to show you guys the picture but I didn’t want to get too banned from Tumblr for an Eternal Hearts liveblog, so I went to my friends for help. One of them, @intimidatethevoid, answered the call to arms:

Well.

This is awkward.

And so she bestowed upon me this glorious, but also cursed, image:

Yeah.

Her shirt’s somehow come off. And she isn’t wearing any knickers. Hence the Filthy Frank sticker.

And that’s gonna wrap up part 1 of my Eternal Hearts liveblog!

For more, like this post in secret shame so that none of your followers have to see it. To cancel me, send angry anon messages and death threats to my inbox.

#Dusty liveblogs #Eternal Hearts #VTM #rape CW #Eternal Hearts CW #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT oh my god I can't even #I'm going to regret posting this I just know it but I HAD to #eternal hearts liveblog

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yuthoe · 3 years

Text

Day 30: Partners (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

this is horrible HAHAHAHA it's the second-to-the-last day of MTM and today's prompt is:

Day 30: Sports Setting

and i was going to make like an "i can do anything better than you" plot, but this is the most i can do with the time i had today. was super busy and this deformed baby is what was born. hayyyy idk, i was really looking forward to this prompt bc (1) the premise i made was really fun and (2) it's hyungwon HAHA but apparently my brain juices have run out

ALSO IF Y'ALL ARE WONDERING, the sport they're doing is dancesport aka competitive ballroom, which i also practice hihi i'm so predictable, trying to insert dancesport into every sports related thing lmao. it is 100% a sport and south korea is also a member of the world dancesport federation. it was so hard trying to describe the steps without being overly technical and using the actual names man, brain hurty

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: fic, fluff. WARNINGS: swearing. WORD COUNT: 1,470.

---

“Two—three—cha-cha-cha! Two—three—cha-cha-cha! One more—cha-cha-cha!” your coach chants, clapping in time to the beat as you and Hyungwon spin around the dance floor. You end with your right feet forward and in an open hold, your hands held lightly in his. The music stops and all that’s audible is your labored breathing.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Hyungwon says, letting go of your hands and doubling over to take in deep breaths. You drop your hands to your hips and walk around, trying to slow your heart rate before sitting down to grab water. “How long until the end of the combo?”

Your coach leans on the wall next to the sound system, leisurely scrolling through his phone. “Not long, just a few more steps,” he says. “Ten minute break and we’ll try the rumba. And let’s try to finish it today, shall we? So we can work on your jive on Wednesday.”

You waddle over to your bags and crouch down to grab your water bottle and squirt some much needed liquid in your mouth. You let out a satisfied sigh after swallowing, breathing out slow before standing back up and wiping your sweat with a towel.

Hyungwon does the same, leaning one hand on the mirrored wall as gulps down water. He rests one foot on its heel and turns it this way and that, flexing and pointing his toes to stretch the muscles; the other foot gets the same treatment.

You go up to the mirror, a little ways away from your partner, and lean your weight on both hands to practice your swivels. Left foot steps to the right and as you change weight, bring the right foot in and face to the left side; repeat starting from the right foot; repeat starting from the left foot.

It’s quiet in the studio as you mind you continue your swivels and Hyungwon reviews the choreography on the floor. For the nth time these past two weeks you wonder how you ended up with him as a partner. You still somehow can’t believe that there isn’t another guy available in the club to compete with you for the Lilian’s Cup this season—and you still somehow can’t believe that Hyungwon of all people offered to partner with you.

It’s not like he’s a bad club member—far from it, actually. He shows up for every club meeting, sure sometimes he’s late but he participates the whole time and even asks to stay behind to work on the choreography sometimes when it’s a particularly tricky variation. You just. Never really talk. He hangs out with the couple of friends he has in the club, and you stick to the club officers who you know from some of your classes.

There’s this tiny voice in the back of your head that’s nagging at you to just talk to him. Because in the five training sessions you’ve had this month, not once have you spoken to each other save for the cursory greetings before and after practice. It’s mostly you both talking to your coach and not acknowledging each other.

Which is really bad, given that you’re supposed to be partners and have chemistry, especially for a dance like the fucking rumba.

You sigh, closing out the couple of cucarachas you did to stretch out your hips and slide over to watch Hyungwon.

He’s just starting the second combo you’ve learned for the routine, the natural top. So you slide into the ballroom hold and do three sets of rumba walks forward in time, looking at anything but him, though you can imagine the surprised look on his face.

After the natural top, you slide into an opening out and prepare for the sliding doors step, when you see Hyungwon stop from the corner of your eye.

His arms are outstretched in the proper positions, his left hand still holding your right, but the rest of his body is stuck in an unflattering stance, eyes flitting about and brows furrowing in frustration. “What’s the next step again?”

“Sliding doors,” you say, and step forward. He steps back as you lean your weight on your forward foot and lift your connected hands up and over your head. You step slowly, allowing him to find his footing in the step, and after a moment of fumbling, you watch both of you in the mirror, properly meeting in the middle and splitting with every side step. After the second sliding doors step, you halt, coming to the end of the choreography so far. There’s still a ways to go, seeing as you’ve only been taught around sixteen bars.

Despite the rumba being a slow dance, you’re still somehow breathing heavily. You lament sometimes that the rumba is your favorite dance because the muscle control it requires is insane. The push and pull between slow and sharp movements gets you off kilter at some points, especially if those difficult turns have to be done without support from a partner. Therefore, communication is necessary to build a solid foundation of give-and-take.

Which means you really have to open your mouth and talk to Hyungwon sometime soon if you want to do well for the Lilian’s Cup.

You pivot to face him, the canvas soles of your heels helping your sharp turn. “Do you need help with the choreo?”

Hyungwon had been staring at the ceiling, no doubt running through the routine in his head once again, but looked down at you when you spoke. He shrugs, bites his lips and says, “Yeah.” He sighs, resting his hands lightly on his hips as he leans on one foot, the other tapping the floor in agitation. “I have a tough time memorizing choreo unless I make it, so…”

You blink. “You make routines?”

Another shrug, and he holds up a hand with the palm down and tilts it from side to side. “Eeehh, sometimes. I’m still learning, and it’s full of basic steps. Definitely not competition caliber yet, not even bronze.”

You purse your lips, nodding. “Still, though, that’s pretty impressive. I’ve been dancing for a while and I can’t create choreo yet.”

“Well,” Hyungwon says, bending his lanky body backwards to open up his chest. “The first step is always the most challenging, I’d say. Once you actually try, it’s easier to take the next steps.” He intertwines his fingers and raises them above his head, groaning from the strain.

You smile at that, and decide that maybe Hyungwon is a better conversation partner than you initially thought. “How about we set like, a day in the week to practice. Just us, you know. I can help you memorize the routines for Lilian’s and you can teach me the stuff you make.” You clear your throat, gaze stuck on your feet, pointing and flexing and looking for something to do. “You know. If you’re cool with it.”

Hyungwon hums. “Yeah, sure.” You look up to see him looking into space, finger tapping on his chin as he thinks. “Can we meet up in the afternoon, though? ‘M not much of an early riser.”

You chuckle. “‘Course. I hate mornings, too.” You wipe your sweaty forehead with your towel and let it hang over your head like a veil as you jog to your bag. You come back to Hyungwon’s side a moment later, holding your phone out. “I also just realized that I don’t have your number yet. It’ll make setting up a date way easier.”

“Mm, you’re right about that,” he says, slender fingers taking your phone and tapping on the screen before handing it back to you. His contact is saved as Dance Partner Hyungwon. “Just a warning tho, I might not reply sometimes because I forget to.”

You tap your phone against your palm and shrug. “S’all right. I’ll just ask one of your friends to pester you then, like Minhyuk. I know he’s pretty… persistent.”

Hyungwon scoffs, but he has a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, that’d do the trick. I’ve known him for years, he won’t shut up unless I humor him.”

You’re about to reply when two loud claps echo through the room. “Okay, you two, break’s over,” your coach calls. “Starting positions please, and let’s finish up this routine today so we can just keep polishing.”

After dumping your towel and phone on your bag and sliding your hand into Hyungwon’s as you get into position, you whisper to him. “I’ll text you later about that after-practice practice.” As the sultry music starts, you have a thought. “And don’t you dare pretend you don’t know me when I finally message you, Chae Hyungwon.”

He bites his lips and looks over your shoulder, fighting a laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says, and composes himself, just in time for your cue to take the first step.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon scenario #monsta x hyungwon imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #hyungwon scenario #hyungwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: hyungwon #fic: not spicy #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

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pbandjesse · 3 years

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I scratch the scab off the wound on my wrist and now its all swollen. I have an obgyn appointment tomorrow so I will ask the nurse about it. Honestly Im sort of aching all over my skin. Wounds and psoriasis and such. But I feel a lot better today. I was really worried I was getting sick yesterday but I felt fine today. No more weakness or crazy exhaustion.

I slept better last night and woke up in a better mood. I got up and got dressed and felt very cute. I actually had a different jumpsuit on but changed into this dress and I am glad I did. I liked that I could match my outfit to my mask.

I headed out early. Around 930. I really wanted Starbucks. That was my goal for the day. I did not succeed. But I did have a good time. Maybe I will get starbucks tomorrow.

I went to Towson. Had a nice drive. I went to Marshals first and got new lotion. It was on sale so that was nice. I also got us new hot honey since we are almost totally out. I had a nice time looking at the Halloween stuff but didn't get any.

I walked to the target next door with the idea that I could get starbucks there but they had just finished their remodel and the Starbucks wasn't open yet. So I just used their bathroom and walked around for a while. Looked at the sweaters but didn't get one. I want a new cardigan but nothing was speaking to me that was different from the orange one I have already.

I got back to the car and drove to the savers. I had a great time there honestly. I found another picnic basket but it wasn't exactly the same so I didn't get it. I might have if it matched. But I did get a beautiful vintage suitcase. It is in such good shape and the mirror is intact. Great find. I did find a cardigan there! It is short and short and button front. But best is that it has trees and snowflakes on it. I am very pleased.

I went to get lunch next at five guys. But my credit card wouldn't read. I didn't know what to do. I idnt have anything else with me. But the guy was great and said it was just the machine and not a big deal. That I was in there all the time and it was on me. He comped the whole thing and I was so touched. It was a very good lunch.

I listened to some podcasts. And decided it was time to just go home.

I got back here and was excited that someone bought the kayak from our wedding registry?? It doesn't say who bought it but its great and I hope I can figure it out. There wasn't a slip or anything with a name. But the kayak is inflatable and so cool. Im going to have to find a better place to store it but its pretty awesome. I added lifejackets to the registry now for safety.

I did some cleaning. I felt pretty good. I vacuumed and did styling. I put together a bunch of outfits. And cut all the hair off of my phonecase to make it short hair. Sat on the fire escape for a while.

I took my nail polish off and cut my nails. I had gotten them all so long and even for the party but I broke one today so I cut them all down. And then I got to work wrapping our flowers to hang.

James helped me hang them. Got upset with me for standing on my toes on the top of the ladder. But they helped me get the flowers up and I think it looks so nice and I hope they dry nicely.

James ordered us pizza. And I watched videos. I chilled with sweetP and just enjoyed the end of the day. I checked in for my doctors appointment. I took a bath and watched a scary video. I was happy.

And now Im in bed. Nursing my wound on my arm and my stupid fat lip I got from the dryness I had yesterday. I hope it calms down because I am hurty and I do not enjoy that.

Tomorrow I have my doctors appointment first thing and then I want to make a new print. I have an idea about making prints in person at the market this weekend. I hope it works out.

Sleep well everyone. Wash your hands.

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dreamcatcherjiah · 4 years

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Part 4

WARNING: IN THIS EPISODE THERE ARE MENTIONS OF EXTREME PAIN AND DEATH IS HINTED AT (VERY LIGHTLY) BUT IT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME. IF YOU WANT TO READ ON, DO SO RESPONSIBLY.

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE ORCHESTRA VERSION OF BLACK SWAN WHILE READING TO THIS PART, IT WILL ONLY INCREASE THE FEELINGS I WANT TO EVOKE💖

The concert had ended, and with it went the energy that you had been feeling for most of it. You felt as if you were some sort of mechanical toy that had been unplugged from the electricity you so desperately needed. With every step you took away from that stage, your eyelids felt heavier, your heart pulled on your ribcage and it was growing increasingly difficult to lift your legs and walk.

“Y/N-ah you look just like you did this morning,” Hyejin’s voice reached your ears, making you feel like she was being filtered through some hazy membrane and her voice was too low to hear, “you’re getting paler and paler. Maybe we should take a detour and get someone to look at you…?”

Her worried expression made you instantly regret having lied to her and having attended the concert today. You were in no condition to go there and impose your sickness on her, but who knew that you would experience that temporary high? And who knew that as soon as it passed you would end up feeling worse than ever? Certainly, not you. You urged your lethargic brain to work overtime and think of a good enough excuse that would allow you to get home sooner, no unnecessary detours. It wasn’t great, but you did come up with something, and not particularly a lie.

“I just get really nervous around big crowds, I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic right now…”

With that skeptical look that you’ve grown to be accustomed to, she frowned and took a hold of your forearm, as if she was trying to say ‘you may be as stubborn as you like, but I’m not letting you out of my sight.’

Little by little you made your way out of the stadium, and little by little, you felt life draining from your body. It started little, like the euphoric feeling that had possessed you mere hours ago. Your heart started feeling chilled, and that cold began spreading through your ribcage. You could feel every rib on fire, and then they would start melting and freezing slowly, making you agonise in pain. If you weren’t sure that your bones couldn’t bend at will, you would have sworn that those same ribs were contorting in a struggle to see which one of them could reach your heart sooner and end your painful existence. Then from the ribs, it reached your spine and you could feel molten lava licking each and every one of your vertebrae. You could see the arch that signalled you leaving the Olympic Stadium clearly enough, but your vision blurred as it was approaching. But no, your body wasn’t willing to give you a respite; if it was willing to do that, it would have done so months ago. Each step you took, you could feel your weight shifting from your frame into Hyejin. In the back of your head, you felt incredibly guilty, but you couldn’t bring your brain to focus in anything else that wasn’t the pain you were feeling for longer than a few seconds. Your last remnants of sanity happened to focus on a little stone bench next to one of the vehicle exits of the stadium, and instantly that became your goal and your lifeline. Hyejin was now screaming in the background, her hands touching your forehead to keep your head from bobbling to the side and coming away wet with cold sweat. But you just saw that bench. You felt like walking through sand but eventually arrived there. Your limbs fell flat against the cold surface, while Hyejin lifted your legs and looked around frantically. As you lost the power to keep your head straight, your vision shifted from the starless sky towards the less and less people milling about the stadium after the concert finished; they were all leaving to go home, the closest person too far away to hear Hyejin’s call for help, and the stuff too distracted to do anything.

Funny how after so many years of constant pain, you never thought that same pain would end up killing you. Granted, you were still breathing, but for how much longer? The pain had reached your head now, you thought, as a flash of pain rushed from the back of your head to your left eye, and then did a victory lap around your brain. Was this how it felt like to have your brain torn apart? Poor mummies, having them pulled out of their nose. Was the liquid dripping over your cheek your melted brain? Ah, no, you realised. It was just blood, blood that tainted Hyejin’s hands when she tried to stop the bleeding with tear-filled eyes.

You wanted to tell her that everything would be okay, to give you some pill that would make you feel numbness again and to go home, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating. Nothing in your body was cooperating for that matter. You could feel the bile rising from your stomach, but once it went pass your throat you couldn’t feel anything anymore. You didn’t even realise your friend had turned you sideways until your left arm went across your chest and hung there, lifeless. Hyejin must have thought that sitting you up would be a good idea, keeping all the fluids in and as soon as she did, you felt the tugging from your ribs intensifying. The fact that you could feel anything anymore startled you out of your pain induced stupor. Now with your back turned to the stadium you could feel the strongest desire in your soul to get up and return inside. And then you felt stupid, how could your inside be demanding something as taxing as impulsing yourself off the bench was actually ridiculous.

You were really loosing your grasp in reality back then. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were opened or closed, and you could swear you were hearing voices, not belonging to your friend, that much was obvious. A cacophony of sounds coming from all directions, screaming at you and at each other. You could distinguish blurred words here and there, and if you concentrated hard enough, you almost could feel a calming touch in your face. Maybe Hyejin sprouted another hand when I wasn’t looking? What a curious thing to investigate, maybe scientist would be interested. It certainly would make multitasking much more easy.

Blacking out would be so easy now, the only thing you had to do was block the voices and ignore the tingling in your ears trying to make sense of Hyejin’s panicked screams. Maybe if you closed your already closed eyes, the darkness beyond darkness would take you and everything… would stop… hurti

Jin was worried. Incredibly so. They were still backstage, six of them already dressed and ready to go looking for the damsel, but Hobi was making the task complicated. It started lightly, with him sweating profusely even though the stylists kept drying it away. Then it was him clenching his teeth at the slightest movement. And now it was spiralling out of control.

“I’m telling you this shit is NOT normal!” Shouted Jungkookie while supporting Hoseok’s head so that it didn’t crash against the wall.

“I don’t care if it’s normal or not!” Screamed back Jimin, more scared than angry, “If this girl is leaving the stadium we need to get Hoseokie hyung in a car and out of the stadium now! Don’t you see what the withdrawal is doing to him?!”

“What withdrawal…?” Whispered Hoseok, almost as if his voice was fighting its way back into his throat.

“It makes sense if you think about it though,” mused Namjoon, pushing Hoseok to his feet and manoeuvring him towards the exit, “this is the closest you two have ever been that we know, and it would be logical that your symptoms worsen once you separate again.”

“I don’t care much for these symptoms at the present moment, Namjoon-ah… I feel with one foot on the grave already, I just need to get to her…” answered Hobi back.

The other six men looked at each other in panic. How bad was the pain getting that he wasn’t joking about but telling them he felt half dead?

“Don’t be silly,” chastised Jin, trying to lighten up the mood.

“His symptoms aren’t as bad that they would kill him, right?” Whispered Yoongi, worry colouring his voice and leaning into Jin, who patted his back.

Jin wasn’t about to say it out loud. The fact that maybe the pain wasn’t real, didn’t have a physical ailment causing it, but there was still a nagging at the back of his head that didn’t allow him to speak and put his brother’s mind at ease. Maybe the symptoms weren’t the real danger, but would his heart stand such intense bouts of pain for much longer, or would it just give up? He hoped they could beat the clock and find this girl before any of those fighting hearts decided they couldn’t stop suffering anymore.

Their walk to the car was excruciating, so much so that Jungkook had to support Hoseok from the side Namjoon wasn’t holding. He stumbled over his feet, crashed against door jambs and walked blindly in the direction of the car. Namjoon could be heard swearing under his breath every time his hand nocked against something hard to protect Hobi’s ribs; he was in enough pain already.

“How are we going to organise the rides? I don’t feel comfortable having only one of us with Hobi hyun… can you see the thread, TaeTae?” Questioned Jimin.

Taehyung stayed silent, looking in the direction of the vehicle exit and seeing how the red line went straight through the wall. She was out there, she could be on the other side of the city by then, for all they knew. How could they reach her when Hoseok hyung was in such a poor state?

He was about to answer something back to Jimin when he could hear some voices pass the exit. They were trying to calm a hysterical woman that couldn’t stop screaming. Curious, he separated from the group that were trying to coerce Hobi into the car when he wasn’t collaborating at all, and got closer and closer to the screams.

A girl, small and nervous was standing next to a couple of their bodyguards, trying to move one of them from the door and drag him away from the garage. Tears were streaming down her face, her hair in disarray and her headband crooked atop her head. The men were trying their hardest not to be too harsh with her, that much was obvious, but the poor woman was way past the point of caring, screaming her lungs out.

“My friend passed out, she’s almost stopped breathing, please!! She’s bleeding from her ears and nose!”

Looking in the direction she was trying to drag the men, Taehyung saw a figure laying in a bench, a few meters away from them. Her limbs were numbly hanging at her side and her hair fell from the ponytail, Mang headband bloody and laying on the ground. Oh, and the red line of fate disappearing into her back.

“NAMJOON HYUNG!” He screamed, running back to the car and grabbing Namjoon by the arm. “TAKE HOBI HYUNG OUT NOW.” His eyes were wide as saucers and the tension was palpable.

“What so you want Tae? We can’t afford loosing time now!” Stopped Yoongi, now feeling the stress and the fear touching him.

“NEITHER CAN MANG GIRL! HER FRIEND IS LOOSING IT OUTSIDE, SHE FAINTED!”

Those few words seemed to do the trick. Namjoon and Kook turned immediately on their heels, moving Hoseok out of the van, almost unconscious as well, and ran with him almost carrying him to the vehicle exit. The members of Bangtan following behind saw how Hoseok suddenly got free from the hold of his brothers and stood groggily looking around himself. He caught his bearings in a few seconds, enough to start walking, not knowing why or where he was going, but just walking.

Taehyung and Jin caught Jimin’s arms at the same time when he tried to help Hoseok. Now it was him, getting closer and closer, guided by an invisible pull that took his will away from him. Then he saw the girl in the bench and his world went out of his axis. She was starting to stand up, a hand flying to her head. She was standing now, fast approaching blindly the spot where Hobi had been rooted since he saw her. He was just waiting for her eyes to open. What was pain anymore? If she would just look at him, if their eyes would just meet. Then everything would be alright again.

They were mere meters apart, there was no one else in the world except for those people who needed each other just like they needed oxygen. What would happen when that pressure both of them were feeling pulling on their ribcages ended, when their hearts met in the middle, the closest they had ever been?

Their breath was stuck in their throats, both afraid to look up because they were both clueless about what was happening. She just kept walking towards him, her eyes closed but her course clear, not needing to open them to see him. She must have felt her presence just as clearly as he was feeling hers, from the tip of her nose to the hair in the nape of her neck, going through every nervous ending of her body. Feeling her closer and closer, he raised his hand forward, their fingertips millimetres apart as a current went through their bodies and their eyes opened.

Cristal clear they were seeing each other face to face for the first time, eyes wide open as their hands intertwined and they took a deep breath at the same time. They saw every detail of the face of their soulmate, memorising it beyond reason, beyond possibility. Without them deciding to, they got closer and closer, and they fused in a hug, putting their hearts closer than they had ever been, beating in unison and feeling beyond euphoric, together for the first time and for the rest of their lives.

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 4

A/n: OMG this took me the hardest time to edit!! I just couldn’t get their feelings right, but I hope it ended well!!! I hope you guys liked it!! Let’s chat!!

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af @nomimist7 @lyssjeon @raisatarannum1234 @purplelady85 @threedecadesofawkward @valentynxmgc @acopenhagenarmy

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pedropascalispunkkkk · 3 years

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First Kisses

so this ended up being really sweet but SIDENOTE: when I copied the whole thing into tumblr from my documents, it decided to get rid of any and all italicized words which is SO annoying but anyways here ya go weenies!

Word count: 2K approx

Warnings: uh no warnings, but be prepared cause poe gets a little hurty-hurt.

Content: first kiss things, fluff, medic y/n, Rey, Rose, and Finn as side characters LMAO, uhhhh idk just some good ole fluff that we all crave :)

Ya ya anyways here ya go:

Poe wants a kiss-kiss :)

A smooth hand massaged your shoulder behind you. Poe stood behind you in the cafeteria while you sat and ate lunch. But how the topic had gotten to first kisses was beyond you.

Rey just laughed at Finn’s feeble attempt to throw her off the scent, and you could see the discomfort in his eyes when she latched in on him.

“Finn! You really haven’t kissed anyone?” Rey giggled lightly through her words as she watched Rose and Finn’s nervous glance. Poe didn’t laugh, just watching. Rose was blushing, the pink tint flushing her cheeks.

“I have! I mean, yeah. Of course.” His voice cracked a little when Rose’s elbow met his side. Rey, clearly unsatisfied with his answer, turned to you, a question on her face. You just shook your head, gesturing to show your mouth was full. She just smiled mischievously.

“So… Y/N. How ‘bout you?” Nearly choking on your food, you barely notice that Poe’s hands hesitated over your shoulders. He was waiting for your answer.

“Uh. No.” A brisk laugh stuttered from your lips when Rey smiled and nodded. She turned back to Finn, and pointing at you with her thumb, she said, “Finn, I just want a bit of honesty. Is that so bad?” Trying to tune out Finn’s exasperated sigh and the bickering that followed, you glanced up at Poe’s face, that of which was watching you intently. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for a thought in your face. A brow arched quizzically, you asked, “Do I have something on my face, Dameron?” His light grin made you hide a smile as you stood. And then he spoke, not bothering to hide his words from the group.

“I could be your first, if you want.” The nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and grin he wore tore into you. Shocked, Rey watched the scene hungrily, while Finn and Rose were having a hard time stopping giggles from erupting. Astounded, you blushed a deep red, and stretching your arms, you waved a quick goodbye to the group and tried to rush off as quickly as you could.

“I’ll walk you, I’m off to the hangar. Excursion Mission today. You’re walking that way, right?” asked Poe, his eyes still clearly lost in search for whatever you were thinking. You nod with a small smile. You hoped the conversation wouldn’t follow you, but your hopes were dashed.

“So?”

“Uh-”

“It’s not, it’s just- well I’m just saying you’re pretty. Woulda thought someone like you woulda had lots of people after her by now.” His hands fidgeted, nervous, despite his casual manner of speaking.

“Nope. Though now, I can think of this one guy who might.” You brush past his compliment and wiggle your eyebrows at him comically. He didn’t laugh, just smiling and scoffing gently. He paused in front of the hangar doors, his eyes looking over your shoulder, tentative.

“If you wanted -only if you want to- I can be your first?”

His weight shifted from one foot to the other as he stared into your eyes now. All you could do was nod, and smile a little as your heart hammered against your chest.

“I gotta go. Just uh, lemme know.” He spoke a little too quickly or you wouldn’t have even seen his nerves. You just grinned up at him, and ruffled his hair even though he was at least a half foot taller than you. Watching him go, you try to hold in your heartbeat that threatened to escape your chest despite your excitement. Hands shaking, you pick nervously at a seam on your sleeve. Poe wanted to kiss you?

Your feet somehow managed to carry you back to Medbay. Your work busied you enough that when you looked up from your work, it was well into your evening. There hadn’t really been too many people in today, just the usual bacta-shots and butterfly stitches.

But the shrill alarm of incoming ships cut through the peace. That alarm meant a medic was needed. Gathering your med-kit as fast as you could, you ran to the hangar as fast as you could, hoping, praying that it wasn’t Poe’s fleet that was incoming. But your heart dropped when you watched the x-wings drop in the doors. That was his squad, but where was his ship?

Remembering your comms, you channeled him urgently.

“Black leader, come in Black leader.” Pain scattered in your voice, you try again. “This is medic 206 accessing all channels. Does anyone have eyes on Black leader?” Trying not to panic, and failing severely, you strained your ears.

“You worried about me, Y/N?” The casual humor crackled through the comms, and a wave of relief pushed you against the wall. He was okay.

“Damn you, Dameron” Tears fell down your face in a torrent, smiling still.

“I am a Commander! Put some respect on the title!” His voice was pitchy, despite his attempt at comedy. Something was wrong.

“Dameron. Who needs the medic?”

No answer.

“Dameron.”

“... Black leader’s fighter sustained damage in the assault.” That was one of the rookies, it must’ve been. The rest held their silence. “He’s in the T-65 x-wing. Ackbar has ‘im”

Sprinting over to Ackbar’s landing x-wing, you fight angry tears and open the medkit, ushering over a pair of medics with a stretcher.

Poe’s head popped up from the cockpit first, obviously bloodied and dazed. Ackbar basically carried him down the side of the ladder, and dumped him into your arms.

“What the hell, Dameron? They shoot you outta the sky?” He just grinned up at you, the blood-loss leaving him loopy.

“You’re s’damn pretty, y’know?” A blush crept up your neck, but your worry chases it away. He had lost too much blood, his face pale and gaunt. “Kiss me.” You whirled your head toward him. He was still grinning, ludicrous and happy.

“Not now Commander,” you smiled gently at him, trying not to show your worry. “I want to kiss you on different terms.” A quick glance confirmed that the other medics were a respectful distance away, and you leaned in close, kissing his cheek. “That’ll have to do for now.”

When you pulled away, Poe’s face was shocked, and blushing. It was good to see some blood returning, but nonetheless you waved your medic team over to carry him back to Medbay. You watched them carry him away, shaking your head.

The next morning, you woke in a tiny metal chair next to Poe’s med bed, your jacket draped over your lap. Not your jacket, you noted. It was Poe’s. Looking to the side, he lay there. He looked so warm.

The room was freezing and bare, the picture of sterility. A place for everything, and everything in its place. And then there was Poe. Your eyes danced over him, searching for ailment. It was awfully cold. And Poe was just there. Your mind carried memories of his furnace-like warmth he always emitted. So, with as much caution as possible, you slid under the covers next to him, placing yourself in the crook of his body.

You had thought he was asleep. His stillness, his warmth, all breathed drowsiness into you. But then his hands shifted to engulf yours, and you were suddenly very aware of his breath on the back of your neck. His fingers entangled with yours, you felt every intake of air emitted from his chest. You felt his smile when he spoke.

“How’d ya sleep, pretty girl?” Tracing his fingertips gently, you brought them up to your lips, and ever so softly, kissed them. You rolled over to face him now, heart pounding in your ears. His light blush made you hide a smile in his chest, your head buried in his shirt. You barely noticed the tears before he did.

Brow furrowed in concern, he pulled your chin up to face him.

“Why the tears? I’m okay, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

He hushed the little sobs, letting you tuck your head back into his neck, despite the tears obviously wetting his shirt.

Finally leaving him to shower and change, you waved behind you, saying, “Y’know, the bacta is out of your system. You were free to go, I dunno, probably an hour ago?” His shouts of humorous irritation followed you into the hallway. All you could do was laugh.

That evening, only a few hours later, you met Poe and the gang in the cafeteria.

“Y/N! I was just telling everybody about my glimpse with death!” His grin sparkled at you mischievously. You just smiled back and moved in next to Poe at the table. You were barely hungry, and the smell emanating from your tray was enough to put you off.

“Y’know, I’m not very hungry. I think I should just go to bed, have an early night?” Rose nodded.

“I’m not gonna be at the dorm tonight. I have some, uh, work.” She said, glancing at Finn quietly.

You nod, and waved a quick goodbye. You were exhausted, having slept in what constituted a metal armchair that night, on top of the long day of catching up on your work. Sleep settled in your bones, and when you finally reached your room, it took all of your energy just to change and fall in bed. Heavy slumber drifted over you, and carried you away.

Poe stood outside your door, nerves making him bounce on his heels. He ran a hand across his face, and then knocked.

You awoke to a quiet knock at the door. Rose? No, no she had said she was working, whatever that meant. Stretching sleepily, you pulled the door open to see… Poe? The thought barely registered before he had pulled you into a tight embrace, his warm hands holding your sides gently. His eyes looked into yours intently, and then he kissed you.

Stars dancing over your eyes, and warmth pooling in your heart, you enveloped your hands in his curly hair, then wrapped your arms around his neck. You had to stand on your tiptoes just to kiss him, but his strong body held you up to his face.

He finally pulled away, breathing deeply as you just stared up at him, face flushed and lips still parted and gasping lightly. He smiled as you drooped against him, clearly exhausted.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

“Uh… not bad. No, not too bad.” You laughed through your words, still a little breathless. “Wanna come in? No funny business, I’m just tired, and you’re warm.” You trailed your fingers down his arm, weaving them through his. He nodded.

The door shut gently behind him, and you pulled him under the covers, the fluffy comforter absorbing your form. You fell asleep in his arms, warm and happy. He felt the most love he’d ever felt in his heart before.

#sweet poe #poe x reader #so sweet #so cuttteeee #self insert #love #first kiss

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bebychangbean · 4 years

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Strangers Ch.3

Demon! Han Jisung x Reader (Finally)

I wanna apologize to @justingnoreme for this chapter. You’ve been leaving adorable messages this whole time and ily but this chapter is r o u g h. This is the final chapter tho y’all,,, thank you for reading.

Warnings: GORE (this chapter is a bloodbath), depression, panic attack, character death. Please do not read if you are sensitive to any of those topics

Word Count: 2.6k

You knocked softly on the door of your parents’ room, knowing Jisung was the only one inside.

He opened the door, his eyes clearly red from crying. You pulled him into your chest for a hug, the boy reciprocating it and wrapping you tightly in his arms.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he whispered into your hair.

You knew what he was referring to. This morning he hadn’t been able to stop his father’s voice from coming out of his mouth, even while he was wide awake. You had been watching TV with Jisung and Minho when it happened. You were both startled, darting up from the couch and looking at Jisung.

The voice was still in a language you didn’t understand, but judging by Jisung’s reaction, whatever he said wasn’t a compliment. Jisung had closed his mouth quickly, cutting off whatever it was his father was saying. You knew he had seen the scared look in your eyes and he glanced across the room at Minho to find the same expression on his face. He had left the room in embarrassment–something he had been doing often these days.

You stood holding him for a few more seconds before moving into the room, sitting with him on the bed to talk.

“It’s okay, Jisung,” you reassured, “I wasn’t scared, just a bit shocked is all. I’ve never heard that happen before.” You decided to hide the extent of your fear from him.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I saw it in your eyes,” Jisung said bitterly. “I’ve seen that look my whole life.”

You reached out to hold his hand, knowing that it comforted him. “I know you won’t hurt me, Jisung. I’m sure of it.” This wasn’t a lie. You had become quite close with Jisung throughout the four weeks you’d been living together and you didn’t once regret your decision to let the boys stay. You trusted them by now and they had expressed that they all felt the same.

Jisung’s outburst had reminded you of what was inside of him, but that didn’t define who he was as a person. You knew he’d get rid of his father’s presence in a heartbeat if he could.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit in the past week or so. He was just always so cute and nervous. He seemed to always still the air and make the conversation awkward, but the blush on his cheeks after was always so cute that you didn’t even mind.

Of course you didn’t intend on telling him that… It just sort of slipped out.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” you said to him, breaking the silence in the room. You turned and buried your head in his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment.

He laughed softly and stroked his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Thanks,” he said. “You’re cute too.”

Your first kiss with Jisung came two days after that. Unfortunately it was in the bathroom on the first floor, but it was romantic nonetheless.

Jisung was having an absolute fit about his condition. He had scared Chan earlier while he was asleep, standing over him. He wasn’t doing anything particularly threatening, but the dead look in his eyes was frightening to Chan who woke with a start.

Jisung really hadn’t meant to watch him sleep, he just got distracted and zoned out and his dad took over his conscience.

Chan had scolded Jisung, though he knew it wasn’t his fault.

Jisung had to be more and more vigilant these days, his dad’s thoughts becoming louder and harder to resist.

You found Jisung hugging his knees to his chest on the floor in the bathroom. He looked up at you through his wet lashes as you entered the bathroom and shut the door softly behind you.

You said nothing as you sat next to him, your back pressed against the cold wall. He took your hand in his and continued crying for a minute. You knew he needed time to let it out, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles the way he had done to you a few days ago.

“Do you think–” he choked out through tears, “that I’m a bad person?”

He looked up at you with his beautiful brown eyes, teary and red, but just as mesmerizing as ever. Your heart broke into a million pieces.

“Of course not, Jisung. You’re a sweet person who was dealt the worst cards in life. None of this is your fault,” you promised. You felt bad that he thought you might be holding his condition against him.

Jisung didn’t say anything as he raised a hand, snaking it around the back of your neck and threading into your hair. He pulled you toward him slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted to, but you knew you wanted this as much as he did.

The kiss was salty with tears, but passionate as it conveyed all the emotions he had been holding in for the past four weeks. It felt conflicted yet sure, scared yet brave and certainly full of feeling. His lips moved against yours, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth as you pulled away. The tears in his eyes had multiplied, spilling down his cheeks endlessly.

You pulled his small form into your chest and held him tightly as you thought about what had just happened. You didn’t want this kiss to change things between the two of you as you knew he wasn’t in the right mental state for a relationship, but you couldn’t deny that you liked kissing him. You get used to it.

You sat with him for a few more minutes until he had calmed down enough to go back to the living room. You entered holding hands and that was how it stayed for the rest of your Sunday.

You weren’t sure if the others even noticed the difference in behavior between the two of you, but you weren’t hiding your blossoming relationship.

For the next week, you would come home from work and watch movies on the couch with him or just lay together and talk. He told you about his past and his life in Malaysia. You told him about your stories growing up in the house.

The only tricky thing was when he would fall asleep. A few times you would hear soft whispers coming from him while you both watched a film, noticing the blanket start to rise as he floated up off the couch.

You made sure to pull him down and hold him extra tight.

You woke at 3:00 am to yelling in Hyunjin’s room downstairs.

You had never gotten up that fast. You had never gotten down the stairs that fast. You had never felt your heart leap into your throat the way it did when you walked into the room that night.

It had hit six weeks since the boys had moved into your house and Jisung’s mental state had hit an all time low. He seemed like he had been getting better as the two of you got closer, but the boy seemed to be taking a turn for the worst recently. He had been so close to snapping for the past four days that even you were a bit afraid of him. The only one who wasn’t was Minho. He still trusted the boy and had heard his discussions with his father.

Jisung had spent the past few nights arguing with his dad, promising not to hurt any of the boys and swearing up and down that he would never kill again.

It seems he lied.

Your eyes first landed on Chan as he screamed at Jisung, holding the smaller boy at arms length. Jisung’s eyes were hollow and unfocused, his mouth partly open, his arms limp at his side. There was a silver kitchen knife on the floor next to him, covered to the hilt with blood. There was no emotion on his face. No regret. No remorse for his actions.

Chan turned back to look at you when you entered. There were tears streaming down his face, his hands not releasing their grip on Jisung’s upper arms.

You kept eye contact with him as tears started flowing out of your eyes. You didn’t want to look at Hyunjin’s bed. You couldn’t bear to see what Jisung had done to him, but your eyes were pulled to it like gravity.

You shouldn’t have looked.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw all the blood, soaking through the sheets and the blanket, turning the soft white fabric to a dripping red. You had never seen that much blood before. In such quantities, it almost looked black.

There was a jagged line across Hyunjin’s throat, his usually angelic face splattered with blood. His mouth was hanging open gruesomely, his eyes blankly staring at the ceiling above him. His face was impossibly pale, all the blood that was once in him dripping off the sheets and onto the floor.

You wanted to throw up. You knew that image would be planted in your mind until the day you died. You looked back at Chan, who was watching you the whole time. He was crying more, his eyes red, blood dripping from his bottom lip where he had been biting it.

A hand landed harshly on your shoulder, shoving you out of the doorway violently. Minho. He didn’t even look at Hyunjin’s body as he rushed toward Jisung, throwing Chan’s hands off the youngest boy’s shoulders.

He wasted no time, sending his fist flying into Jisung’s jaw, sending the small boy flying into the sliding glass door of the closet. It shattered on impact, Jisung sliding down the cracked glass, fragments cutting through his thin T-shirt and embedding themselves in his skin.

He sat on his heels in the glass, the blank look on his face no different from that of the dead boy in the bed. Minho’s knee made contact with Jisung’s chin, sending his head flying back into the broken mirror. There was a horrifying crunch, though you weren’t sure if it came from the mirror or Jisung’s skull.

Chan lunged forward, grabbing Minho to stop him from killing the young boy. He tried to hold his arms down, to restrict his movement in any way, but Minho was a mess of rage and adrenaline.

He shoved Chan to the floor, the older boy landing harshly on his hands, cutting them on the shards of broken mirror.

You looked on in shock as the three remaining boys fought in front of you. Your head was hurting so unbelievably bad, the smell of blood in the air overwhelming as it filled your lungs.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt us!” Minho shouted at Jisung. “You fucking promised!”

Jisung was starting to wake from his trance, the bleary look clearing from his eyes. His hand went to the back of his head and came away bloody. He looked at the bed, the mess of his best friend making his head spin. He couldn’t have done that. That wasn’t him. Right?

Finally, his eyes met Minho’s. He was standing over him, a wild look in his eyes.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” Jisung stuttered. “You know I wouldn’t have done that. He was my brother,” he sobbed.

“He was my brother too,” Minho growled back, landing a harsh kick against Jisung’s chest. His vision was blurry, red seeping into the corners of his eyes.

You watched in horror as Jisung snapped. He picked up a piece of glass from the floor next to him, not caring as it sliced deep into his fingers. He stood up quickly, Minho moving fast to grab onto his wrists. Jisung plunged the glass into Minho’s open palm, snapping it off inside of him as the older boy tried to pull away. Blood splattered everywhere, painting the mirror and the floor a deep red. The moonlight from the window cast a silvery haze over the scene.

Chan shook himself out of the state he was in, scrambling to his feet and running toward you. He grabbed you by the arm and ran out the door, dragging you with him. The last thing you saw was Minho charging Jisung, slamming them both into the mirror, tiny splinters of glass flying off and coating them both in a fine layer of silver dust. It would almost be pretty if not for all the blood.

Chan pulled the bedroom door shut behind you and ran out of the house.

You both collapsed onto the grass outside. Sobs wracked your body as you tried to rid the scene from your mind. Chan was crying just as hard, the two of you thoroughly broken. The fresh air cleansed your lungs from the smell of blood that had filled the house, but you could still feel the suffocating weight of what had just happened making it harder to breathe.

You sat for a few more minutes, trying to steady your breathing and shake the foggy feeling from your head. Chan was too far gone though, the boy was going into a full panic attack, laying on his back in the grass, his chest heaving alarmingly.

The crashing and yelling inside the house went on for another minute or so, Minho’s loud screams ringing out from the house. It was cut off abruptly.

The house was silent after that. You kept your eyes trained on the door, waiting for somebody to emerge, but nobody did. The house was eerily quiet, as if the bloodbath inside hadn’t happened.

You wanted to call the police, but your phone was in your room and there was no way in hell you were going back in that house. You turned to Chan who was still panicking and grabbing at his chest as he coughed violently.

You stood, your mind hazy. It was an hour walk to the police station and you knew Chan would be arrested on site and you would meet the same fate probably shortly after. You had to escape. You’d be in prison for sure after all this and you weren’t even sure if Jisung and Minho were still alive. They would definitely be locked up if either of them were found alive.

You didn’t care anymore though.

You bent down to grab Chan’s hand, looking him in the eyes as you pulled him gently to his feet. He nearly collapsed as soon as you let go, his legs still weak and his head still cloudy.

You threaded your arm around him, holding him up as you shuffled around to the back of your house.

“Where are we going?” Chan asked. His voice was empty and far away.

“To the mountains Channie,” you said, trying to seem strong. “We have to get out of here before the cops come. Besides, maybe Minho or Jisung is still alive. I don’t want to be here to find out.”

Chan nodded, probably not having understood a word you said as he moved his feet slowly, lifting a bit of his weight off you. The two of you made your way through the vast fields toward the range of hills in the distance.

You looked back at the house, silently saying goodbye to your childhood home and apologizing to your parents for ever letting strangers in.

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baconsoupforthesoul · 5 years

Text

How Much for that Kitty in the Window?

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY INKSPOTTIE!!!! @inkspottie (obviously) and I hope you enjoy~

To say that Henry was only a little nervous would have been an understatement. While Henry was a nervous person by nature, the anxiety that often buzzed at the back of his mind was hitting him full force. Henry glanced around at all the little cages around him, wringing his hands as his wife chatted idly with the lady who ran the animal shelter. Lyra had wanted to adopt a cat for some time, but when she had first mentioned the idea to Henry, he almost had a panic attack right then and there. It wasn’t that he was afraid of cats, not at all. He was afraid of himself around cats. He shivered as a memory he had once forgotten washed over him.

“Not now. Not now,” Henry muttered to himself, trying to shake off the feeling of holding a limp kitten in his hands and Joey Drew’s voice ringing in his ear. Even though the man was dead, the former head of Rapture Studios still haunted Henry in his memories, especially the ones he had regained of the time he had spent as the madman’s test subject. Gosh, how old was he when it had happened? It was hard to say, with how fast he was forced to age back then, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t have been much older than seven when Joey had decided to test how far his ‘Would you kindly?’ conditioning would go. When he had forced Henry to break that kitten’s neck with his bare hands.

Henry sucked in a deep breath, wrapping his arms around himself to keep from breaking down. It had taken all of his courage to come here with Lyra today. After he had told her why he was so reluctant to adopt a cat, she had understood completely. She had been absolutely horrified to hear what Joey had forced him to do, and she didn’t bring up the subject for a long time after that. But Henry could tell she desperately wanted a cat around the place, seeing her longing glances at pet store windows whenever the two of them were out together. Despite his reluctance, Henry found he couldn’t deny Lyra something that she wanted this badly. She loved him despite all his scars and supported him through all the trauma he was still dealing with to this day. This was the least he could do for her. Besides, he didn’t want his past in Rapture to define him. He could move past this… for Lyra.

As Henry was lost in thought, something small and soft tapped his arm. Henry jumped, taking a step back as he turned to see one of the cats reaching out of its cage at him. The cat had white fur with splotches of black that looked kind of like ink drops. The cat looked up at him, giving a soft meow as it reached out to Henry with its paws.

“Uhhhh,” Henry turned his head towards Lyra but she was still deep in conversation, not taking notice of his sudden plight. Henry turned back towards the cat and took a hesitant step forward. “Ummmm, hi there,” Henry’s voice shook as he gave the cat an awkward wave. The cat meowed back at him, its green eyes staring curiously at him. Henry spared Lyra another nervous glance before returning his attention to the cat. This… this was fine. The cat was still in their cage, there was a slim chance that Henry might accidentally hurt the little thing. Hesitantly, Henry reached out and lightly ran his index finger over the top of the cat’s paw. The feline let out a happy little squeak as it reached out for Henry’s hand with his other paw. Henry could feel a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he gently pets the cat’s paws, feeling its soft fur under his fingertips.

“Mrow!” The cat meowed happily as it squashed its face up against the bars as if trying to stick its head through. Henry let out a soft chuckle as he slowly reached his fingers inside the cage and gently rubbed the cat’s head. He let out a soft gasp as the cat started purring with contentment, rubbing its head on his hand as he scratched them behind the ears.

“Did you find a friend there, Henry?” The smaller man jumped slightly, not realizing that Lyra had walked right up beside him. She gave him a knowing smile, causing Henry’s face to flush. Meanwhile, the cat meowed at him again, swatting at his hand with its paws, demanding Henry to continue petting them.

“Oh, I see that Spottie has taken a shine to you!” The shelter worker chimed in. “She’s such a sweet little thing. Do you want me to take her out so you can hold her?”

Henry froze, going as white as a sheet and looking like a deer caught in headlights. Lyra noticed his panic though and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’d love to hold her,” she offered, saving Henry from having to explain why the thought of holding a cat terrified him. The shelter worker smiled, completely obvious to Henry’s alarm, as she went over to unlock the cage. She gently lifted Spottie out and handed her off to Lyra. The biggest grin broke out on Lyra’s face as Spottie meowed happily and rubbed her head underneath Lyra’s chin. “Oh my gosh she’s so precious,” Lyra cooed, her eyes lit up as she held Spottie close to her. “Isn’t she the cutest thing Henry?”

“Y-yeah,” Henry replied, staring lovingly at his wife. Seeing her this happy filled him with joy, washing away his nerves and putting himself at ease. Gosh, how did he get this lucky?

As he stood lovestruck gazing at his wife though, Spottie turned her eyes towards him and began reaching out to him with her paws again, meowing insistently. “Aww, she likes you, Henry!” Lyra exclaimed, ecstatic that the cat was already warming up to her timid husband.

“I guess so,” Henry sounded pleased but unsure as he slowly reached out and began scratching Spottie behind the ears. “I don’t know why though…”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Lyra said teasingly, winking at her husband causing him to blush again, before turning back to the shelter worker. “Is she up for adoption?”

“She most definitely is!” She informed Lyra, looking pleased. “Did you want to bring Spottie home or did you want to keep looking around?”

“I think Spottie has already decided for us,” Lyra chuckled as the cat in her arms nuzzled and licked Henry’s hand. Henry looked completely overwhelmed as he tried to suppress tears of joy. As nervous as he was, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful about his and Lyra’s new furry companion.

—

Despite having such a wonderful introduction, Henry was still a little anxious around his and Lyra’s new pet. Spottie had made herself right at home these past few weeks, but Henry could still feel his nerves coil up in his stomach whenever he looked at her. It was stupid and irrational, but he was still so terrified that he might hurt her. She just seemed so small and fragile. Henry wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything bad happened to her.

Spottie seemed utterly obvious to Henry’s worry though and always seemed to be vying for his affection. Whenever he would walk in the door she’d always be right there, pawing at his leg meowing up a storm, demanding pets. She was so sweet, Henry felt like his heart couldn’t take it sometimes. He just wished he could give the kitty the love she deserved, not freeze up with nerves all the time. He had yet to even pick her up, he was so scared he might hurt her or drop her or something. Gosh, why was he like this?

One day though, as Henry was sitting on the couch, idling flipping through channels waiting for Lyra to come home from work, Spottie decided to take the initiative. Henry wasn’t even paying attention as the cat leaps onto the couch, stalking silently towards him. Suddenly, Henry felt a paw press into his leg and looked down to see Spottie climb onto his lap.

“Uhhhhhh,” Henry’s heart went into overdrive as Spottie stared up at him with big green eyes. “W-whatcha doing there Spottie…?”

“Mrow,” The cat replied with a soft meow, before curling up in Henry’s lap. Henry sat there, completely frozen, his eyes wide with panic. Oh no, what was he supposed to do now? He had a lap full of cat and he was terrified out of his mind. He didn’t want to disturb her, he was stuck until she decided to release him from his prison of cuteness. He could feel the soft rise and fall of Spottie’s chest as she breathed, completely at ease, unlike him.

Henry clenched his eyes shut, trying to fight off his rising panic. He…he needed to calm down. It was just Spottie. He could do this. Henry took a deep breath, slowly opening his eyes, before lifting his arm and running a hand down Spottie’s back. The cat purred with contentment, nuzzling further into Henry’s lap. Henry could feel his bottom lip quiver as he continued stroking the cat, feeling her soft fur under his fingers. Petting Spottie brought up another memory from his time in Rapture, but for once this one wasn’t traumatizing. He remembers feeling sick, unable to get out of bed due to the tests he had undergone when Norman had visited him with his pet dog. He recalls running his fingers through the dog’s fur, completely fascinated by something so commonplace on the surface. It had been a shining moment of happiness between all of his despair. For the longest time, Henry thought that he would never feel such happiness again. It was hard to fathom how much his life had improved after escaping Rapture a second time. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had brothers, friends, a wife, and now this adorable cat just laying in his lap, purring away without a care in the world. Henry sniffed, feeling his emotions bubbling over as the front door swung open.

“Darling! I’m home!” Lyra called, taking off her coat and shoes by the door. She strolled into the living room and stopped when she saw her husband in tears with Spottie laying in his lap.

“Lyra,” Henry choked, looking up to his wife with glossy eyes. “She’s purring,” he sobbed, scratching the top of her head, the sound of the cat’s delight filling the room.

Lyra held her hands up to her chest, her heart hurting from the level of cuteness in the room. “Of course she is,” Lyra murmured, sitting down next to her husband, wrapping an arm around him and rubbing the tears off his cheeks as he sniffled, completely overwhelmed with love. “Are you gonna be alright dear?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m just…” Henry wiped the rest of the tears off his face with his sweater sleeve, leaning into his wife’s embrace. “She’s just so…. I never thought that I… I just can’t…”

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I know,” Lyra reassured him, kissing him sweetly on the forehead. “She is pretty precious, isn’t she?”

“You both are,” Henry pointed out, giving his wife a lovestruck grin, before pecking her on the lips. Lyra let out a soft giggle, holding Henry tighter as she joined him in showering Spottie with affection.

—

Henry jolted awake, gasping as he opened his eyes to his pitch-black bedroom. He lay there panting for a moment before looking over at his wife next to him. She was still asleep, thank goodness. He’d woken her enough times with him bolting up in bed screaming from nightmares. He must not have been as loud this time, as her soft snores filled the room as he tried to slow his breathing down. He couldn’t even remember what he had been dreaming about, he could just feel the dread swirling around in his stomach as his whole body tingled with unease. Well, he was wide awake now. Henry stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. He was tempted to get out of bed and do something but that might wake up Lyra. He wasn’t looking forward to lying in bed as his thoughts spiraled down the negative rabbit hole they usually did when he was left to stop and think. Henry had spent way too many nights contemplating everything that was wrong with him, wondering when all the happiness he had gained would all just slip through his fingers.

As Henry felt his thoughts already taking a headlong dive into depressing what-ifs, he felt something soft bat at his face. He blinked and looked over, squinting at the small dark shape on the bed next to him.

“Spottie?” He said groggily, trying to keep his voice down so as not to disturb his snoozing wife. “What are you up to? It’s…” Henry glanced over at the clock on his bedside table. “It’s four in the morning Spottie. It’s too early for me to feed you.”

“Mrow,” Spottie mewed softly, tilting her head at him curiously. She leaned forward and gently licked the tears Henry hadn’t even noticed were falling down his checks.

“Spottieeee,” Henry whined, gently pushing the cat away slightly. “That tickles,” Henry half laughed, half sniffled. “Come on, I don’t wanna wake Lyra.” Spottie merely meowed in response, ignoring Henry’s protests as she padded forward and climbed onto Henry’s face.

“Spottie,” Henry hissed softly, trying to keep his voice down as his cat walked all over him. “What in the world are you-?” Spottie cut Henry off with another meow as she curled up around the top of Henry’s head, using her owner like a pillow. Henry lay there for a moment, feeling the soft vibrations as Spottie purred next to him. Was she… comforting him? Henry sniffed and wiped the moisture from his eyes. “Thanks, Spottie,” Henry murmured, reaching up to scratch her behind the ears as the cat nuzzled closer to him. Henry let out a contented sigh before shutting his eyes again and letting Spottie’s purrs lull him back into sleep.

The next morning, as Lyra woke up with a stretch and a yawn, she looked over to see her husband peacefully asleep with their cat curled around his head. She had to suppress a delighted gasp as she slowly slid out of bed. She quickly but quietly scurried out of the bedroom to find her camera. She was determined to preserve this moment of adorableness forever, as Henry and Spottie snored away in bed, completely oblivious.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #henry stein #linda stein #henry x linda #bioshock au #spacy writes #// mentions of animal death

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hymn2000 · 4 years

Text

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C3

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, mentions of corporal punishment

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 3 - Off My Back

Tony forgot to set an alarm, and as a result woke up late the next day. He went into Peter’s room and gave the boy a shake.

“Wake up, chick”

Peter stirred. He woke up and rubbed his eyes.

“Hi... What time is it?”

“It’s half eleven, chick”

“What?! Isn’t it Tuesday?!”

“Yeah, I forgot to set an alarm” Tony said. “I guess we both needed that lie in. What do you wanna do?”

“Um... I don’t really know”

“Do you wanna stay home today? You’ve already missed basically the whole morning”

“I don’t know. I think maybe I should go”

“Alright kiddo” Tony said. “Well, we’ll get you something to eat and then we’ll get you to school in time for afternoon lessons. Ok?”

“Is that ok? I mean, it’s only two lessons, so you’ll have like less than two hours at home before you have to come back again”

“If you wanna go to school, you can go to school. It’s only a ten minute drive. So what do you wanna do?”

“...I think I should go to school”

“Ok” Tony said gently. “Come on then; let’s get you some lunch”

Tony dropped Peter off at school armed with a note detailing a forgotten medical appointment to excuse his lateness (“A little white lie” Tony had said), just in time for afternoon registration.

“Where were you?” Flo asked. “We were worried! You could have at least texted”

Peter took out his whiteboard.

Doctors appointment

“Oh right” Flo said. “Well, are you ok?”

Peter nodded.

“Oh good. Well, I’m glad”

“Me too” Millie said. “We need you next lesson anyway: you’re in our assessment group”

Peter regretted going to school, and it was plain to see from the way he slammed the car door behind him when Tony picked him up afterwards.

“Alright, don’t break my car!”

“I wish I’d just stayed home” Peter spat. “What a waste of time!”

“Oh oh, sounds like you didn’t have a great afternoon”

“No, I didn’t, and I don’t want to talk about it”

Loki and Tony sat down with Peter later that evening.

“I think you need to tell us what’s bothering you” Tony said. “You’ve been funny ever since I picked you up”

“I just had a rubbish afternoon. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Well, why was it rubbish?” Tony persisted. “Couldn’t you have talked to the bunnies about it?”

“No, because they were a big part of the problem!”

“What do you mean?” Loki said.

“Millie was being a cunt”

“PETER!” Tony shouted. “How dare you?! Haven’t we talked about using that word?”

“I don’t care!”

“Well, you should, and you definitely will when I’ve washed your mouth out with soap”

Peter growled. “Go away then! If it’s that much of an issue, just leave me alone!”

“Hey, you don’t get to call the shots around here. We-”

“GO AWAY!”

“Peter, stop it” Loki said. “You shouldn’t use that word; you know that. Come on; we just want to help. What happened at school?”

“They were both being so unreasonable! I mean, it was mainly Millie, cos Macy is still ill, and Flo had a music exam so she wasn’t there most of the afternoon. But Millie just seemed to be going out of her way to get to me”

“In what way? Was it because of the news story?”

“Bits of it, but she was going on about yesterday, saying I got that detention on purpose, which I did, but she said it was because I was being evasive and wanted to spend time with Malaki instead of her and the other two, and then she said Malaki was gonna ruin me if I wasn’t careful, and then she got onto the news story and she thinks, she thinks it’s true, the stupid bitch-”

“Peter” Tony said in a warning tone.

“Well, she is! And so we got into an argument about that, with her throwing all those ‘facts’ from the telly and papers at me, as though she knows my life better than I do, and then I was like, well, what does it matter? Because I’m still a step ahead of her, cos her dad hates her and never wanted her in the first place, and he’s an abusive bastard, so I bet she wishes she wasn’t really his, and-”

“Peter, that’s so bad” Loki said. “You can’t say things like that”

“Well I’ve already said it, so so what? But anyway, she got even more cross with me, like all upset and stuff, and then she tried to make a point and she snatched my whiteboard pens so I couldn’t say anything back while she made a point, and then we got into a fight over the pens, and then she was like, I’m not talking to you until you apologise, and then I was like, I don’t care. I’m not the one who needs to be apologising: she is. So then she stopped talking to me, which is fine, because she was doing my fucking head in-”

“Enough of the swearing, Peter!”

“Just let me speak!” Peter snapped, scowling at him. “So anyway, she stopped talking to me, so I guess we’ve fallen out. And she’ll tell Flo and then Flo will probably turn against me too, cos she’s known Millie way longer and stuff, and she seems annoyed at me too. At least she’s talking sense about the news story stuff though. But then, but then in class we were discussing like, media and news and tabloids and stuff, and like, everyone was looking at me, and the teacher was trying not to look at me, and it was all dead awkward”

“I see” Tony said.

“It was a bloody nightmare and I’m never going back. Now I feel like I really do need to see a doctor: I feel like my blood pressure is sky high, and my back’s doing that weird hurty thing it did when I had shingles. I wanna see uncle Bruce. I’m going out”

He stood up to go, but Tony and Loki both caught him with an arm round the stomach and sat him back down.

“Woah now, not so fast” Tony said, putting an arm round his shoulders. “I get it; you had a rubbish afternoon. But that doesn’t mean you can just never go back to school, and it’s no excuse for your dirty language. I’m still in half a mind about how to punish you for that”

“Now, now, Tony; he’s upset” Loki said. “Now, darling, I know it’s horrible. Do you really feel unwell, or is it anxiety?”

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, keep your voice down!” Tony shook his head. “If you really feel that bad, maybe daddy can give you a little check over”

“I want uncle Bruce”

“You’re asking a bit much, kiddo”

“HOW is that asking too much?! He’s round here every week anyway”

“Alright, alright” Tony sighed. “I’ll give him a ring”

“Hey, uncle Bruce”

“Hey kid” Bruce said, closing Peter’s bedroom door behind him. “Tony said you requested me specifically”

“Mm”

“What’s up? This big news story getting to you?”

Peter nodded.

“I get it, kid. I know what it’s like having nasty stories about yourself in the news...” he sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and opening his bag. “Take your hoodie off”

Peter did as he was told. He watched carefully as Bruce pushed his sleeve up and slipped a blood pressure cuff over his arm.

“I know you’re not a fan, but Tony said I should give you a full MOT while I’m here”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About the news story. About... me and dad”

Bruce looked at him. Peter was keeping his eyes on the blood pressure cuff. Bruce looked back at what he was doing.

“Well” he said, squeezing the pump to tighten the cuff round the boys arm. “I’m sure Tony would love to have been the one responsible for bringing you into the world” he was quiet for a minute, getting his stethoscope and pressing the chest piece against the inside of Peter’s elbow, listening, and counting. “...He’s not your real dad. Your biological dad, I mean. I think you know that”

“Yeah, I know” Peter said, breathing out and rubbing his arm when Bruce took the cuff off. “I guess a lot of this stuff in the news is kinda like, planting doubt in my mind or whatever”

“Dodgy news people will do that to you” Bruce said. “Can I listen to your chest?”

Peter nodded. He stayed quiet while Bruce checked him over with basically every piece of portable medical equipment known to man.

“Have you got an ECG machine in there?”

Bruce laughed slightly. “I almost considered it: there’s some of the portable ones paramedics use at the office. Give me your hand again”

Peter let Bruce check his blood sugar.

“Is that everything now?”

“Yes” Bruce said. “Unless... Can I take a blood sample?”

“Why? What are you gonna do with it?” Peter asked defensively. “You’re not gonna do a DNA test, are you?”

“No, of course not. Believe it or not, I don’t really have access to that kind of thing, especially not without written consent from your parents. I was just going to send off for some routine checks”

“I’d rather you didn’t”

“Ok, I won’t force you. Keep pressure on that finger”

Peter nodded, watching Bruce packing up his stuff.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it”

“Do you think people are inherently violent?”

“That’s a strange question” Bruce said, setting his bag aside and sitting down across from Peter. “I think maybe people were more violent back before modern day civilisation, but I think it was for survival. Modern day people don’t really need that type of survival instinct so much anymore, so maybe that’s why they hold back on their strength. Babies and little kids don’t know their strength, but older people probably learn to reserve it so much that they don’t really know it either

“Ok”

“Why? Have you been feeling violent lately?”

Peter looked at him.

“I’ve caught you, haven’t I? I’m an expert on that kind of thing, sadly”

“...Sort of. Not violent, exactly, just... I don’t know, angry. I keep getting all annoyed. I’ve had a lot of fights recently”

“Because of the news story?”

“A couple of them, but not all of them. Some of these fights were before”

“You’re a superhero in your spare time, kiddo. Do those fights bother you?”

“They’re not the same” Peter sighed. “They’re like, a justice thing, not a personal thing”

“I see. And I take it these personal fights are bothering you?”

Peter nodded. “It just kinda happens. Like, it’s all words at first, but then I lash out before I know what I’m doing. It’s weird, like someone else takes over my body”

“I know what that’s like”

“Mm... How do I stop it? You’re a doctor; you know how people work. How do I stop being violent?”

“I don’t think it’s violent. I think you’re just defensive, reacting instinctively, perhaps because of your heightened senses and your stress. I don’t think it’s violent unless it’s vicious. Have you been vicious?”

“I... I don’t think so. I don’t mean to start it or hurt people, and I’m not being malicious. It just keeps happening”

“It’s probably just personality clashes, stress, your illnesses, and hormones” Bruce said. “Happens to most people at some point. Talk to your therapist about it”

“I... I don’t see a therapist anymore”

“Really? Why not?"

Peter shrugged. “You’ll have to ask dad”

“Did you take a disliking to Miss Marns?”

“No; I really liked her. We had a rapport after all that time talking”

“Maybe you should see her again. It’s good to talk these things out”

“Yeah, I want to... How do you deal with it? Like, staying calm when you’re angry?”

“Kid, I’m the worst possible person to ask about this. If I get too angry, I turn into an enormous green rage monster, remember?” Bruce laughed slightly. “I work in a different way to everyone else on that matter”

“Yeah, I guess so”

“So, what do you think it is?”

Peter shrugged. “What you said, I guess”

“You wanna say something else, don’t you? I can tell”

“...Elton John talked about the Dwight Family Temper in his book. It was like, genetic, the way his bloodline got cross, kinda thing. I’ve never heard of there being a Parker Family Temper, but maybe there is. I never knew my parents properly, and May didn’t really speak about them much, but maybe...”

“Maybe” Bruce nodded. “You know, it could be environmental, too. I know what Loki was like back you were first getting to know him, and I know he still has his moments. Tony can be a right wanker at times too, especially when he gets angry and kicks off. I know they’re pretty calm most of the time nowadays, but you can see where I’m coming from, can’t you?”

“Yeah, especially with dad. Howard Stark was a cross person too, right?”

“I don’t really know. I get the impression he wasn’t very nice behind closed doors. Tony doesn’t really talk about him much”

“Mm... Yeah, he never talks about him to me either”

“Maybe it’s a good thing” Bruce said, standing up. “Try some deep breathing exercises. Or do that thing Tony does where he counts to ten in his head when he’s stressed. This is probably just a phase, kid”

“Yeah, we’ll see” Peter said, pulling his hoodie on. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, your MOT. You’re fine, kid. Your pulse was pretty fast, but it calmed down pretty soon. Just anxiety. Everything else looked ok”

“Nothing wrong with my blood pressure then?”

“Nah, nothing wrong with your blood pressure. Although...”

“What?”

“Can you take your shirt off?”

“I’ve only just put my hoodie back on!”

Bruce sat back down close to him. “Are you alright with me touching you?”

“You’ve been prodding me for like, twenty minutes” Peter said. “Go for it. Just don’t go clipping more stuff onto me”

“Deal”

Bruce pulled Peter’s shirt and hoodie up. He was gentle with him, but the way Peter reacted when he touched his stomach was a little strange.

“Did that hurt?”

“No...”

“Don’t you like your tummy being touched?”

“Not really” Peter mumbled.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t. It even makes me feel weird if my parents do it, even accidentally. It just makes me feel all funny”

“Huh. Strange. Well, I can’t stand people touching the veins on my wrists. We’re all built a bit differently”

He continued checking him over, and then pulled his shirt and hoodie back down and sat back.

“...What?” Peter said, looking at him sceptically.

“You’re a lot thinner than last time I had to check you over. You’ve definitely lost weight”

“So?”

“So, do your parents know?”

Peter shrugged. “I doubt it. They’ve had a lot go on in the past year. I don’t think me losing a couple of pounds is gonna be at the top of their agenda”

“This is more than a few pounds. How much have you lost?”

“I don’t know! I don’t weight myself. Get off my back”

“You might not be his biologically, but you seriously take after Tony. You’re so much like him sometimes”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“Do that” Bruce nodded. “He’s a great man”

“You’re really sure about him not being blood, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. Listen kid; your dad and I are close, and we talk. Even when he was drunk, he put something on the end of it, and he always did it himself so he knew it wasn’t tampered with. Besides, imagine if you were a girl, and you slept with a high-profile celebrity and then found yourself pregnant. You’d be straight down the closest newspaper. If you were his, he’d’ve found out when you were still just a fetus”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right... Hey, uncle Bruce, can you do me a favour?”

“What?”

“Can you get me out of school tomorrow?”

Bruce laughed. “No way, kiddo! My New Years Resolution was not to tell any more lies, even white ones”

Peter sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot”

“Get your little red suit on and go swinging through town for a bit. The adrenaline will do you good”

Bruce bit his thumb, listening to Tony speak.

“So you’re really not going to do a DNA test?”

“No! I’m not giving those bastards the satisfaction! I thought you’d understand”

“I understand your stubbornness” Bruce said. “I just think doing the test could be beneficial”

“What, just to give us a piece of paper telling us what we already know? I didn’t make that kid, and everyone knows it”

“You know as well as I do that lots of people believe the rumours” Loki said.

“So?! We know it’s not true, and that’s the important bit, right? I don’t need the test to tell me that”

“No, but maybe having the proof on paper to give to the press would get them off your backs” Bruce said.

Tony hesitated. “It’s still giving in to their pressure though, isn’t it? Besides, what is there to stop all these DNA companies from fudging the results?”

“Do you know how these DNA tests work, Tone? They’ve gotta test 21 genetic markers, and it’s all detailed in a spreadsheet report with all the tested markers, and a column for the alleged father and a column for the child, and it’s all got to be done by a proper laboratory. They’re credible companies, you know”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“It’s a basic fact, Tony. I read it ages ago” Bruce said. “These companies would have to do a lot of work to produce fake results, and if you did a retest with another company and they got discovered, it would destroy their business. Some of these companies charge big money for their paternity tests: it wouldn’t be worth it for them to fudge results just to be part of a newspaper scandal. Besides, if you made your results public and they weren’t fudged, they’d still be a big part of the story, and get more business through being credited. Sorry, Tony, but I think you’re just being paranoid”

While Tony was busy staring at him, Loki responded.

“Banner is right, darling. Faking results wouldn’t benefit anyone”

“Well, what does it matter? I’m not doing a DNA test”

Loki sighed. Tony looked at him, and at Bruce.

“You can’t do one behind my back, either”

“We wouldn’t do that, Tony” Loki sighed. “You know we wouldn’t”

“I know. Still, I’m done talking about this” he picked up his mug and took a drink. “...So what’s the verdict on the baby? Find anything?”

“His obs were all fine” Bruce said. “His anxiety was playing up which made things a little wobbly at first, but he’s fine, mostly”

“Mostly?”

“Well... Have either of you seen him without his shirt lately?”

Loki and Tony exchanged a look.

“Why?”

“He’s looking pretty thin, like, almost worryingly so. He’s a lot thinner than he was when I gave him that check up a couple of months ago after that fall he had. Had you noticed anything?”

“He hasn’t been eating properly for a while” Loki said. “He’s been ill a lot over the past six weeks or so. It’s impacted his appetite”

“Yeah, he hasn’t been eating much. It’s like he doesn’t really feel hungry much”

“What’s been wrong with him?” Bruce asked.

“Just general illnesses” Loki said. “Nothing serious. He’s been doing better recently though, so hopefully his appetite will improve soon”

“I see. Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew about it”

“We’re fully aware” Tony said. “You can’t bring that kind of stuff up with him though: he just thinks we’re overreacting and accusing him of having an eating disorder”

“Oh right” Bruce said, surprised. “Is that... Is that something he’s struggled with in the past?”

“Not exactly” Loki said. “He’s just a bit sensitive about that kind of thing. He’s had some body confidence issues before”

“Poor kid. I swear we didn’t care when we were that age. Kids these days worry too much” Bruce said.

“Our kid certainly does” Tony sighed. “Where is he, anyway?”

“I told him to go out in his little supersuit”

“Oh” Tony said. “Well, at least he’s getting some fresh air and exercise”

Bruce laughed. “That’s such a dad thing to say”

“Well, what can I say? I am a dad!”

“That’s one word for it” Loki said.

“Oi!” Tony smiled at him. “You’re not funny”

“This news story seems to be affecting him badly” Bruce continued. “Fights at school, all the uncertainty, the anxiety flare up...”

“Yeah... Well, fights at school aren’t just because of this” Tony said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s still so different to a lot of those kids. I think they clash. It’s usually the same couple of kids he fights with”

“Are you still considering home-schooling?”

“Yeah, definitely” Tony said. “I think it’d be good for him. You know, comfortable at home, one-on-one tutoring. I think it’d work well for him. It’d work for practical reasons too, like not having to do the school run”

“What about his therapist?”

“Oh, he doesn’t see her anymore, hasn’t done for a while”

“Why?”

“He was doing well. He said he didn’t really need therapy anymore”

“I see”

“He’s made good progress. Still, homeschooling would take more stress out of his life, I think”

“Mm...Have you told him yet?”

“No, it’s still just between me and Loki” Tony said. “It’s still just an idea”

“Well, I guess you’ve got more important things to be thinking about” he said awkwardly. “So, what are you gonna do about this news story?”

“Wait for it to blow over” Loki said.

“Aren’t you going to release a statement?”

“Marco tried to get me to do one” Tony said. “I couldn’t think of anything to say other than ‘fuck off and mind your own business’, so we decided it would be best if we scrapped the idea”

“No kidding”

“Ignoring it is easier said than done, but it isn’t impossible” Loki said. “I’m happy to sit back and act like it doesn’t concern me”

“With all due respect, it doesn’t really. No one’s accusing you of being his biological father”

“That’s because I’m a god, darling” Loki said. “And I don’t look like him. Tony does”

“It still concerns Loki: he’s part of this family” Tony said. “People have been asking stuff down the hospital too”

“Wait a minute” Bruce said. “Loki, was Peter born at your hospital?”

“Haven’t the foggiest”

“Wait, just a minute”

“You’ve already said that” Tony said.

“Shut up, Tony. No, I’ve had a thought” Bruce said. “You don’t need a DNA test to prove you’re not his biological father”

“I know that” Tony said. “That’s what I’ve been saying”

“I know, but this is different. This is something else you could use to prove he’s not yours”

Loki and Tony looked at him. “What?”

“His birth certificate. Just dig that out and use it as proof. People might still have their gossip-based reservations, but it’ll have his parents names on it. Where do you keep it?”

Loki and Tony looked at each other. Tony bit his thumb. Bruce looked at them.

“You’ve lost it?” he guessed.

“We never had it” Tony mumbled. “Why would we? He lived with his aunt up until the explosion. It would’ve been destroyed in that”

“...But surely you would have needed it since?”

“He already had a passport, which was here, and we used a copy of the adoption certificate when we updated his name on it”

“But what about the adoption?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you need it when you adopted him?”

Tony shook his head. “No. Not personally, anyway. I think they maybe did for the legal bits, but our lawyer and people working with Li Allen took care of that bit. We just filled in the forms and did the meetings. There was a bit saying if we didn’t have a birth certificate to attach, to just put the place of birth, which we did. There was a bit saying they needed us to attach his dead parents death certificates, and obviously we didn’t have those. Not really any of our business. Maybe the lawyers and stuff got those, and his birth certificate. I don’t know. If they got the birth certificate, we never saw it. Adoption certificates replace them anyway, legally, so we didn’t need it” he looked at Loki. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

Loki nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“It was such a long few months. You know we had to let the local council know first, and then we had to wait three months before we could do our court application. We let them know before telling Peter, actually, just in case. We just wanted it done, but it took quite a while. At least he was already living with us. You know you’ve got to have them living with you for ten weeks before you can apply for the adoption court order?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard that”

“It was actually so much more difficult than we thought it would be. We read into it before pitching it to the kid, obviously, but there’s so many forms. We had so many afternoons sat with our lawyer going through rules and how to fill in all the forms and apply for the right things, and then actually doing all those forms and applications and stuff. It was pretty tough. It started to feel like they wouldn’t let us adopt him, even though there was no evidence to the fact”

“I can remember you being stressed about it at the time, and I remember seeing the stack of forms you had to send with the paperwork too. And I remember doing that reference”

Tony nodded tiredly. “It was a lot of work”

“The adoption certificate doesn’t have details of his biological parents on it, does it?”

“No” Tony said. “They never do. Like I said; they replace the birth certificate”

Bruce sat back, sighing. “I think you should request a copy of his birth certificate, if you’re not doing a DNA test”

“Why? We don’t need it. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone. The papers will move on at some point, going after some other story. If the only reason to get the birth certificate is to give it to the press, it’s not worth getting”

“I wouldn’t argue any further, if I were you” Loki said. “It’ll be like talking to a brick wall”

“Exactly!” Tony exclaimed. “Thank you, darling”

Bruce sighed, but nodded. “Well, I respect your decision. I don’t have kids, so I can’t really say what I’d do in your situation”

“Thanks, mate” Tony flopped back in his chair, draining the rest of his drink. “If there’s one thing about being a parent that I think I can transfer...”

“Oh, do share” Loki said.

“I love that kid more than anything else in the world, and I’d protect him with my life. Including from the press. I’d happily punch a reporter in the face to keep them away from my boy” Tony said. “I don’t care that we’re not blood related: he’s my son, and that’s more than I ever deserved to begin with”

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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franklyshipping · 5 years

Text

The Gooper Adventures ~ Day 5 ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOHOOO NEXT INSTALLMENT OF OUR LITTLE GUY'S ADVENTURE! I think he's about to finally meet someone with the same amount of energy as him sooo LET'S DO IT!

Today, was a rather sweet day. Dr Iplier was sat at his desk with his phone in his hands and a goofy smile on his face; he loved when the Host sent him spontaneous, lovey texts. The latest one talked about how the Host couldn't stop thinking about how cute the doctor sounded when he was having his neck nuzzled, and Iplier was pink cheeked at the sweet, flirty tease. He always squeaked at neck nuzzles, but even more so when Host was the one giving them to him. Dr Iplier's blush soon deepened however, when he heard a crooning gurgle from his shoulder.

'Wha-how long h-have you been there? I-It's rude to read other people's texts!'

The doctor was trying to sound reprimanding, but upon discovering that Gooper had been silently resting on his shoulder and looking at the cute texts just made the doctor all embarrassed. Gooper gurgled in a somewhat arrogant manner, which made Iplier's jaw drop.

'Unprofessiona-I'LL decide what is u-unprofessional in m-my office you cheek!'

Gooper tittered before rolling down Iplier's arm and landing on the desk rolling about as he crooned even more, sounding as sassy and as cheeky as a little squish could possibly sound.

'H-He's not distracting me!'

Iplier's face was absolutely burning at this point, he couldn't believe he was just being teasingly lectured by a tiny tickle monster on the point of PROFESSIONALISM! What on earth had his life come to. Iplier did partially admit to himself that he didn't mind being teased....he always liked it when people called him and Host a cute couple, it made him feel all warm and happy inside-....okay....NOW Gooper was going too far.

'I AM NOT GOING TO START SWOONING!'

Iplier squeaked in a high pitched, flustered tone of indignance as he saw Gooper flopping his squishy body over the stapler, pretending to be Iplier fainting at being flirted with by his boyfriend. Gooper merely gurgled with giddy giggles as Iplier pursed his lips and stowed his phone away, he was SO going to get that squish's underbelly later! Iplier sighed with relief however, when a distraction came along in the form of a knock on the door. Iplier gave Gooper a side-eyed smile as he went to answer it.

'You'd better behave!'

Gooper gurgled once more, before the doctor opened the doctor to reveal....a lot of pink. That was very much a lot of pink, at least, that was what Gooper surmised at first. However, when Gooper saw the big pinkness move into the room with a grand gesture, he realised it was just a person with a lot of pink on them!

'IPLIEEEER! I AM GRAVELY INJURED!'

The doctor repressed a snicker and an eye-roll as Wilford sauntered in the room, and he played along with the dramatic man as he closed the door behind him.

'Oh no Wilford, do tell me what ails you?!'

Wilford lay himself dramatically on Iplier's medical bench, his bottom lip protruding as he extended his arms forth, waving his hands in Iplier's direction. Wilford then let out a cry of such dramatized anguish that I'm pretty sure it would have made Shakespeare himself weep with elation.

'MY SWEET TENDER LOVE MAKING HANDS!'

Iplier repressed a snorting laugh, dear lord this man was a bundle of a good time. He walked to Wilford and carefully held his hands, bringing them closer so that he could inspect exactly what was wrong with them. Iplier had to fight a smile as he assessed the condition of Wilford's hands and fingers....and concluded that the man was suffering from....about half a dozen paper cuts.

'That....is frankly an impressive amount of paper cuts. What exactly were you doing that led to you getting all these?'

The doctor let Wilford cradle his hands at his chest, and although it was clear Wilford was being overdramatic for effect, he was right to come to the doctor. With hands being used every day with practically everything it was imperative they got treated with proper antiseptic and covered temporarily with band aids if need be. Wilford looked up to the doctor, his eyes glistening as he started going into a sort of reverie.

'Well...it started with a vision. A vision....of an exquisite meal, for the most handsome man on the face of this very planet. But the haven of instructions fought against me, and in my eagerness....I was wounded....'

Wilford trailed off....and Iplier sighed as he finally understood. He smiled at Wilford fondly.

'Sooo you were looking through a recipe book to find something nice to make for Dark aaand you got paper cuts off the book?'

That made Wilford flush a little bashfully, and smile as his dramatics faded away to make way for a slightly embarrassed mumble.

'I just turned the pages too faaast....I got excited....'

This was all just monumentally adorable. The doctor thought so, and Gooper thought so. The little monster was just watching for now, watching as Iplier got out the special cut cream and put it on the places that hurt the pink man. Then Gooper watched the pink man smile as Iplier put bright pink band aids over the hurties. Iplier normally would have let little cuts like these breathe, but since Wilford was going to be cooking after this Iplier figured this was the more sanitary and safer path.

'Well, whatever you end up cooking I am SURE that Dark will absolutely adore it.'

Wilford giggled his happy, warbly giggle as he stroked over the vibrant band aids that were now on his palms and a few of his fingers. Then he grinned up at the doctor as he replied.

'I'm doing it to see if it'll distract him. He told me all about his appointment yesterday, and the lil rascal you let loose on him! Bravo doctor! He was VERY red-faced and handsome, and still is! It's all that's on his mind!'

Iplier chuckled softly, but before he could reply, a little gasp came from Iplier's desk, causing both the doctor and Wilford to look to the source of the noise. It was from Gooper of course, but why did he gasp you ask? Well, he was VERY happy, and a little emotional. Dark had....told people about him. He'd talked about him to other people in a nice way! Gooper didn't know why, but he just felt super flattered and happy that he was being memorable for all these sweet, nice Iplier people. Now of course, Wilford had let out a gasp.

'Is....that....him?'

Wilford was straining to whisper, because despite his boiling excitement bubbling up inside him, he was conscious of using his inside voice for fear of startling the little guy. Iplier smiled and placed a hand on Wilford's shoulder.

'Yep, and don't worry, you don't have to worry about whispering around him. Gooper buddy, this is the wonderful Wilford Warfstache!'

Gooper let out a squeal of excitement, because he already liked this very vibrant, wild-seeming man, he was a lot like the wild glitchy septic Anti except less broody. Gooper wobbled in place excitedly as Wilford scrambled to the desk, before getting on his knees so that his face would be level with Gooper. Wilford crooned happily, already absolutely in love with the little guy.

'Well hello there lil gumdrop!'

Upon seeing Wilford bend down to his level, Gooper crooned and immediately shuffled forward to inspect his face; it looked like Wilford had a very nice, soft face....but there was something very peculiar on it. It was pink, looked EXTREMELY soft, and was a funny curvy shape, so Gooper decided to nuzzle it. Wilford was wide eyed as Gooper started nuzzling his moustache, gurgling in delight as he rubbed his little underbelly against it.

'Awww, he loves your moustache Wilford!'

Iplier exclaimed with a bright smile, watching happily as Wilford tenderly picked him up and nuzzled the little creature, giving him the full feeling of that snazzy moustache as he grinned and cooed.

'Well of coooourse you dooo! It's the softest thing aroooound, yes it is yes it iiiis!'

Iplier snickered as Wilford cooed to Gooper for about 20 solid minutes, before managing to revert back to his normal tone of voice, which was slightly smug too as he addressed the doctor.

'I have to say that Dark was NOT exaggerating when he talked about how precious this little guy is! I tell ya, I've never seen Dark so flustered! Dark is the more ticklish one in our relationship ya see, I have much better decorum! It hardly affects me at all!'

Wilford finished off by addressing Gooper, grinning from ear to ear as he absently pet the little creature again. Gooper however, was mighty confused. Dr Iplier had told him that ALL Ipliers were ticklish? Wait....but that meant.....Wilford was being a naughty fibber! He was trying to be all confident to try and convince him that he wasn't ticklish! What an absolutely silly notion! Gooper transitioned from letting out purrs, to letting out low hums. Iplier knew those sounds. The doctor hissed through his teeth and folded his arms, smiling at Wilford fondly though since he was amazed that the man had the actual gall to try and say he WASN'T ticklish.

'Oooohhh Wilford, I don't think it was wise to say something like that in front of Gooper....'

Wilford furrowed his brows, before quite a lot of colour drained from his face as he sloooowly looked down at the creature in his hands. Wilford was frozen as he watched Gooper start quivering. To be quite honest, the one main thing that riled up Gooper was when people lied about their ticklishness; he used to get it lots with Angus and Jackie, but he made them learn that honesty is the best policy! Gooper was excited to make Wilford his next pupil. So, he wasted no more time. Iplier chuckled when Wilford shrieked, and the doctor took out a bag of crisps and settled into his chair to watch the magnificence that was Gooper LITERALLY breaking a few of Wilford's shirt buttons so he could slip through and latch onto his belly.

'W-WOAHHEYNO GOOPY MY FRIEND MY PAL I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME?!?!?!'

Wilford practically flailed himself back onto the medical bench, lying down to avoid the embarrassment of falling over if he'd tried to stay standing. Wilford was trembling and pursing his lips tight as he felt the little creature shuffling and nuzzling over his belly. He had to stay strong. The Great Wilford Warfstache was NOT going to let himself be proven wrong! Not this time-uh, not that there were any other times that he'd been proved wrong in this matter....anyway! The doctor decided to chip in, feigning concern.

'You okay there Wilford? Are you in any discomfort-?'

'OHDON'TYOUSTAHART!'

Wilford sent Dr Iplier a glare that made the doctor giggle, and the doctor only grinned wider because he'd heard that oh so tender waver in Wilford's voice. Gooper was gurgling lowly with determination under Wilford's shirt, he WAS going to get ticklish laughs out of this cute Iplier! Gooper tried rubbing his body over Wilford's lower, pudgy stomach; Wilford gripped the edges of the medical bench as the first trickles of strained giggles worked their way out.

'P-Pleaseohogohod m-mahake him s-stop-AAAEEE!'

Iplier's eyebrows shot up at the sound of Wilford's sudden shriek, before smirking as he realised that Gooper had found the hotspot that was Wilford's bellybutton. Iplier leisurely replied to the writhing man with a purr.

'Sorry, no can do, he follows no one's orders but his own.'

Wilford let out a cry of despair as he thrashed, cackling at the invading nuzzles penetrating deep into his ticklish navel. We all know of course that Gooper can manipulate his form, so he merely elongated part of it into a little tip that was now burrowing and tickling Wilford's innie; and it was an extremely cute innie in Gooper's opinion too! Gooper was gurgling in a chuckly manner to himself, feeling very satisfied at how effective his tickles were on the supposedly not ticklish Iplier.

'NAHAHAHA PLEHEHEASE!'

Wilford cried, but Gooper took no heed. He played inside that soft, sensitive innie so he could listen to Wilford's cackles bounce around the room like rocket powered bouncy balls. Gooper then started....prodding at Wilford's bellybutton.

'OHOHOIIII NOHOHO POHOKIES YOHOU SAHATAN SQUIHISH!!'

Iplier snorted as he watched Wilford jolt about for a few moments, and the doctor could just about hear Gooper gurgly giggles of delight at how jumpy and cute this pink man was! Gooper soon wanted to explore further though, and so resumed shuffling about over Wilford's lower abdomen; the man started to pant and whine, trying to collect himself.

'Ohoho....nuhuh wh-whehere ihis he g-gohoiiiing....?'

.....of course, at a question such as this, the doctor couldn't help but reply with quite an intelligent, quippy response.

'I don't know, he's under your shirt I can't see him.'

Ohhh if only eyes could say fuck you, because that was very much the phrase being articulated at Iplier via Wilford's narrowed, brown eyes. Iplier would be the one cackling if Wilford had his way, alas though, that was definitely not to be. Now, Gooper had found something else he was interested....a very smooth, inviting hip; the left hipbone to be precise, which he latched onto before proceeded to start vibrating his form. Now, Wilford squealed and descended into the sweetest giggles.

'EEEEEHEHehehee ohoho nononohohoehehee!!'

Wilford went very high pitched very quickly, and let me tell you it was seriously one of the sweetest selections of sounds in the whole world. Wilford's giggles were trill-like and filled with titters and squeals, and Wilford had now taken to hiding his pink cheeks in his hands as he got embarrassed at his own reactions. Iplier of course was quick to comment as he stated snacking on a boiled sweet.

'Awwww Wilford you should join a choir with a trilling voice like that!'

Wilford merely let out an incoherent, embarrassed noise into his hands as the treatment continued, and what made it even worse...was that Gooper decided to split his form in half. One squishy mass per hip, so now Wilford was becoming even more incoherent with his sweet, angelic mirth.

'Nuuhhhehehehahaha dohohohocccyyy ahahaha nahahahaaa...'

Iplier watched on fondly. Honestly, he just loved to watch it all unfold. A huge part of the doctor wanted to join in, maybe hold Wilford's legs down or lift his arms, or just coo incessantly into his ear....but then....Iplier felt that it just wouldn't be right. He would be disturbing a master at work, and Iplier knew that Gooper was having the most fun that he could possibly have whenever he tickled someone, so the doctor was more than happy to watch and occasionally bring in some spicy cheekiness or sarcasm. Speaking of which.

'Yes Wilford, can I be of any medical assistance?'

Wilford whined, his hands falling from his face and weakly reaching for the doctor, and Iplier's heart honest to heck nearly melted when he saw Wilford's desperate, pouty, giggly demeanour.

'Pleheheeee....t-t-tihihihicklessss.....'

Wilford gazed at the doctor imploringly, only managing to get those words out since Gooper's segments had had mercy at his hips. With Wilford recovering from the embarrassment inducing tickles though, he didn't quite notice the segments sliding down over his hips, and slipping under his trousers so they could settle on top of his thighs. His ticklish thighs. At Wilford's sweet words meanwhile, part of Iplier wanted to help....but ah, it was a rather small part.

'Ah, my apologies but that isn't really something I can treat....'

Iplier smiled a bold, unsympathetic smile as Wilford whined with wide eyes, and he was honestly about to consider begging for help....when Wilford realised that his hips were free....and his thighs were not.

'C-C'mon p-plehease b-before he s-s-staharts agai-NOOOOHOHOHO AAAHAHAH MEHEHERCYYY!!!'

Wilford threw his head back in vain, and the doctor really started slouching happily in his chair now, watching Wilford hit the padded bench with his mouth spread wide in a wonderfully insane grin. The little devil squish was kneading his thighs....both of them....at once. Gooper liked kneading, he very much liked to squish soft things, ESPECIALLY after Jamie let him help bake bread things! Wilford's thighs were like dough, very squishy, very ticklish, very awesome!

'GOHOHOHOOPEERRR! IHIHIPLIEEEEER!'

Wilford wailed as he just laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed, and Iplier softly laughed with him because frankly, Wilford's bouncy mirth was joyful and contagious. It had a wonderful, unique wobbly warble to it that Gooper noticed, which was super pretty! It was a unique thing to this pink Iplier, like how Jamie only ever let out gasps and snorts instead of laughs, or how Anti had crackles in his cackles. Gooper cooed happily as he carried on the kneading, and the doctor decided to finally stand and wander over. He could see the beads of sweat on Wilford's face and figured it was time for real mercy.

'Ahalright alright, Gooper buddyyy, I think it's time to come out nooow. Wilford's getting tired bubby bub.'

Iplier crooned in the direction of Wilford's legs, and Wilford practically yelled in relief when he felt the kneading die down to a complete halt; he panted as his mirth died down with it.

'AHAHAHA-a-ahahh...ohoho th-thahank you....hooohohoooo....'

Wilford gasped, his eyes fluttering shut as he caught his breath and wiped his face, which allowed Gooper to seep through his trousers and reconnect his body together so Iplier could scoop him up. Gooper craned his body upwards to the doctor with a questioning mrrrp, and Iplier smiled and whispered to him.

'You did so good buddy, so good.'

Gooper gurgled proudly, and then squeaked happily when Iplier presented him with a green paperclip....which Gooper absorbed into his body, like how a hamster stores food in its cheeks for later; Gooper was saving the little piece of stationary so he could put it in his stash later. Iplier glanced to Wilford, seeing that the man was starting to sit up...and so he gave Gooper something else. Wilford blinked a few times as he finally regained himself, and was fully ready to either tickle attack Iplier, or pet the hell out of Gooper. So, when Wilford saw that Iplier had placed Gooper on the bench, he figured he would do the latter.

'Hehey you....ya really got me good there.'

Gooper crooned as Wilford tenderly picked him up, but Wilford ended up smiling a bashful smile when he saw that Gooper had extended part of his body towards him....and was offering him a lollipop. Bubble-gum flavoured no less. Wilford grinned and stowed the candy in his top shirt pocket, smiling down at the creature whom he now started to pet.

'I'll have it later bud.'

Now of course came the mandatory session of petting Gooper, because honestly if you do not take the time to pet this precious being then you don't even deserve to be in his adorable presence. Wilford of course awed over Gooper's little happy noises and titters at the pets, rubs, and gentle scratches he received. Soon though, Wilford returned him to the doctor, grinning.

'Y'know....I think I'd die for him.'

Iplier grinned broadly, chuckling as he nodded in agreement.

'I think anyone who meets him would.'

Iplier then reached to his desk and picked up the antiseptic cream, along with a box of band aids.

'Now, as long as your cuts are open, apply antiseptic, then leave them to scab over naturally. Take these band aids off in about 2-3 hours, and if any of the cuts are still bad then put new band aids on, but if they're not then leave them exposed to the air so they can heal. Got it?'

Iplier smiled happily when Wilford nodded and barked an affirmative like Iplier was sergeant, before cooing once more at Gooper, then vacating in the most wonderfully flamboyant manner. Iplier sighed, then settled back in his chair and opened his desk drawer. It was where he'd put Schneeple's jumper, aka Gooper's nest, and it was where Gooper kept his little stash. Iplier watched happily as Gooper tottered about amidst all the little gifts...and Iplier wondered if Gooper knew how much of a wonderful gift that he was....to the whole, entire world.

WOOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS NEXT PART LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOP LUV YOUS XXX

#markiplier #markiplier egos #wilford #warfstache #wilford warfstache #dr iplier #sfw #platonic #gooper #tickle monster #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these cuties

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claracivry · 5 years

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Can i have some soft hurty Roger with a hidden scar? With maybe a dash of Maylor👀👀👀

Here we go with the first one!!! Thanks @justpoisonous for the prompt!! Please keep sending folks!! There are so many good things left!!!!

Hurt Roger caretaking Brian under the cut ;)

Roger liked speed. This was something very much his. He liked his song to be fast, liked to go fast in his cars and loved when he could feel the speed in his face. So when Brian had proposed they went for a bicycle ride, he gladly accepted. Freddie and John were doing something “secret” in private (probably a song) and Brian had wanted to make them envious.

So they took the bikes, and of course, Roger got a bit overexcited. There were a lot of slopes down, which meant that you could be faster and faster, and pedalling just a bit meant that you could go really really fast. Bad news was the didn’t know this place that well (they’d had a gig here and were making time after the concert - the bikes had been a service of the hotel) and there were…. Obstacles. A lot of them.

Roger didn’t see the fire hydrant until it was too late, and because he was going so fast, the crash had been unavoidable and again because he was going fast, he hurt himself quite badly on impact. He flew from the bike and his face and collided heavily with the concrete under them. Fuck. It hurt so much.

Brian nearly crashed his bike too, seeing Roger fall like that, screaming his name, fuck, that had been such a bad fall….

Roger tried to pick himself up from the floor. His face was going to bruise badly, there were abrasions and gashes on his cheek and he could taste blood. His chest was going to bruise a lot too, but it didn’t feel like anything was broken. But his leg… His leg was a mess and this was… Shit the leg that…

“Roger! Oh my god, Roger! How are you, let me see you… Oh god…”

Brian’s eyes were focused on his friend, on the blood, oh dear god, poor Roger’s face and he was holding his ribs too… What if something was broken…

“Do you need an ambulance? Does anything feel broken, Rog?”

Brian’s hand ghosted over Roger’s bloody cheek, wanting to do something but afraid to hurt…

And then he saw the leg and all that blood.

“I’m going to see if you need a tourniquet, all right?”

Roger was shaking with his head and wanted to say something, but his mouth tasted like blood and he couldn’t find the words and Brian’s hands were ripping through his pants and….

There it was. Apart from the two gashes and the broken skin… That big ugly thing, crossing half his thigh, still as present as ever. Something shone in Brian’s eyes (anger? Could that be anger?) but it passed quickly, and there was only concern left.

“You think you can walk? We’re not that far from the hotel, maybe I can carry you.” Brian said, and there was something really pleasant about being in Brian’s arms and closing his eyes… But he was tougher than that, wasn’t he? The toughest. But his leg was protesting and after some pitiful moans and half steps Brian decided to carry him to the lobby of the hotel.

“I’ll go get the first aid kit, you wait here.”

Roger was… He didn’t know how he was. Half his face was raw, he couldn’t walk and his… secret had been exposed. Brian had seen it, and now… The guitarist came back with the supplies and the same worried expression.

“Stop worrying, Bri. I’m fine.”

Brian shook his head.

“You have to be more careful. One of these days you could really maim yourself.”

Still,Brian was gentle with his face, slow, soft, his nursing skills where like he was. The alcohol stung, but the bandages were nice. As Brian bandaged his leg, there was an odd expression on his face. So this was why, despite being the most shirtless of them all, Roger always wore long trousers.

“You want to ask, don’t you?”

“Only if you want to answer.”

Roger nodded silently. It was stupid keeping him from Brian. They shared everything… And Roger wanted to share more, too. This needed to come out.

Everything got mixed up, the pain from the fall, the pain from his memories….

“Would it be easier if I say what I think happened and you correct me?”

Roger nodded vigorously. He didn’t know how to start.

“Somebody hurt you when you were young.”

Fuck. That hit really close to home. Flashes of him flying through the window, of being spat on, of being told to stop screaming and fucking pick yourself up, you wuss….

The tears hurt in his wounds.

“You’re right. But I can’t... I want to tell you, but I…”

“You don’t have to.”

Brian embraced Roger as best as he could, mindful of his injuries, and ran his long hand through Roger’s golden hair, hushing him softly.

“You only tell me if you want, all right?”

Roger nodded when they broke the hug, trying to stop crying. Fuck.

“If I ever find whoever did this…”

“Violence doesn’t suit you, Bri.”

“I can make an exception.”

There was fire in Brian’s eyes and Roger felt oddly touched that his friend would go to such extremes on his behalf. He felt… Less afraid of the past and all its ghosts.

“And you shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars, shouldn’t hide them. You should wear them like honour badges of how much you’ve lived, and it never defeated. You’re such a survivor, Rog.”

Roger smiled.

“My face hurts. Can you go get some water for this aspirin?”

“Sure.”

Roger sighed as he saw Brian leaving. Yes, his past would always be a part of him - but it didn’t have to have power over him. Not anymore.

Now he was protected.

#my fics #justpoisonous #Whump #Hurt Roger #Queen fic #queen fics #roger taylor

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