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dira333 · 6 months

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Hurts to be away from you - Shigaraki x Soulmate reader

For my Follower Celebration - Soulmates can't be physically away from each other or it hurts

This is the first time I write Shigaraki and I hope I did him justice

Shigaraki doesn’t know when he notices the owl for the first time.

He’s not too knowledgeable about birds but shouldn’t owls be bigger?

“Kurogiri.” He calls out for his colleague, “Come here.”

Impatiently he waits for the other to join him only to have the bird fly off the moment Kurogiri steps up to the window.

“Never mind. You were too slow.”

❤︎

The Owl is there again, sitting on his windowsill and blinking at him.

He opens the window and waits. The bird does not move.

“Are you a spy?” He asks the bird, glad that he’s alone for once. Their new hideout is small and he hates when he has no space for himself.

The owl blinks and makes a low sound, hopping closer towards him.

The movement is sudden enough to scare him and his hand flips up, fingers outstretched, Quirk ready to go.

The Owl turns its head sideways, looks at him without blinking and drops off the windowsill, flying off soundlessly.

Heaviness settles in his bones as he watches the animal leave and he huffs angrily.

He’s not getting sad about a dumb animal!

❤︎

It doesn’t matter where they are, the Owl’s always able to find him.

He should tell the others, make sure it’s not someone spying on them with a mutation quirk, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

Instead he throws bread crumbs out the window or builds a make shift nest out of stolen socks.

He calls it Mon, like his childhood pet dog. Holds his hand out in the hopes that it will loose it’s fear and move closer, let him pet the smooth coat of feathers.

He feels calmer when the Owl is in his line of sight, feels content to sit at the window and talk the animal’s ear off.

There’s something so human about the way it looks at him, blinks at the right moments.

But this is the real world. Where no good things last.

❤︎❤︎❤︎

From the day you turn eighteen, pain is your constant companion.

For some people it’s a dull headache or a knot in their stomach, but you can feel the absence of your soulmate in your bones.

You would curse it, if it didn’t make finding him so much easier.

When you’re up in the air, your true element, you can feel the pull and let it direct your movements.

You feel a bit weird watching him from the safety of the trees or the windowsill, but you have no idea how to approach him, even less when you realize who he is.

Your soulmate is a villain.

And the more you learn about him, the clearer it becomes. He’s not just any villain. He’s THE Villain.

❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Ha, Mon. Are you hungry?” Shigaraki places a handful of breadcrumbs on the windowsill.

You eat them, careful of his movements.

Ever since the first time he talked to you, he hasn’t threatened you with his quirk again, but you’ve been born careful, shy, anxious.

Shigaraki keeps talking, telling you about his days.

Slowly, he stretches out his pointer finger, trying to lure you toward him.

Today, you comply and press your small bird body against his finger.

Shigaraki falls silent, as he slowly, carefully, rubs his finger against your feathers.

Behind Shigaraki, a door opens.

“Shigaraki? We’re ready to leave.”

You jump back to the edge of the windowsill, eyes on the green skinned Mutant that’s standing in the door.

Shigaraki huffs in annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. What heroes are in the vicinity?”

“Some Owl Dude and-” You don’t stay to listen any longer. There is only one Pro Hero with an Owl Quirk and that is your father.

You might be too weak to be a hero but you won’t let anyone hurt your father if you can help avoid it.

❤︎❤︎❤︎

You wonder if you’ll ever grow used to the pain.

It’s been months since you’ve last met Shigaraki, since you left him to warn your father.

You had made that decision with a heavy heart and heavier bones, guilt and desire pulling you back while determination drove you forward. You couldn’t and wouldn’t let anyone die.

But your wings are still missing some feathers from where his Quirk reached you on your way out of the city. You’re lucky you’re still alive. The City isn’t.

❤︎

It’s over.

The war has been won, All for One has been defeated.

And even though it seems a cruel joke, Shigaraki is still alive, tied to a bed in a hospital.

It’s a precaution, Deku had told him the first time he visited. People are and will be afraid of him for quite some time.

Deku visits him daily, if only to sit with him for a few minutes and tell him about his grandmother, the weather outside, or other mundane things.

“How are you feeling?” He asks everytime he visits. “Does anything hurt?”

“My bones.” Shigaraki confesses grumpily. “No matter how many painkillers we try, my bones hurt all the damn time.”

Deku cocks his head to the side in a way that has become familiar.

“Have you met your Soulmate yet, Shigaraki?”

“My Soulm-, Dude, have you forgotten who I am?”

“I haven’t. But… I don’t know if you’ve been taught that, I thought it was common knowledge, but there’s a certain pain that you feel whenever you’re away from your soulmate. The closer they are, the less it hurts.”

“What?” Shigaraki laughs. “You’re kidding, right? No way that’s true.”

Deku lifts up his hand and wriggles his fingers. “Everytime I am away from Ochako my fingers start hurting. Didn’t realize it was her for some time because my hands were broken so often, but once you know, you know.”

Shigaraki considers that for a moment, tries to push away the thought of how ridiculous that sounds. There have been moments where his bones didn’t hurt, he knows that.

There’s movement at the windows and he looks, hoping against everything that it will be his little owl, his Mon. But it’s a Sparrow that’s ignoring them as it picks seeds from the little birdhouse.

“You like birds?” Deku asks.

Shigaraki snorts. “No. I just… There was an owl that used to visit me.”

“Ah, yes.” Deku nods with a look on his face that has Shigaraki frowning.

He opens his mouth to ask about it when the door opens.

“Midoriya-san? Visiting time is already over.”

“Oh? I’m sorry. Tomura, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

“I won’t die if you skip one time.”

Deku smiles. “But just to make sure I’ll be here tomorrow anyway.”

…

It’s late and Shigaraki can’t sleep. He doesn’t like taking sleeping pills and he’d forgone the painkillers today, already knowing that they wouldn’t work on the pain settling in his bones.

He tosses and turns until he notices movement in front of the window.

When he moves out of the bed he realizes with a start that his bones have stopped hurting. When did that happen?

Outside the window, almost invisible in the darkness, sits the little owl.

“Hey Mon.” Shigaraki whispers and presses his hand against the cool glass. “Missed you.”

The bird pushes itself against the glass as if trying to cuddle into his hand.

“Can’t open the window.” Shigaraki tells it. “That’s forbidden in case I could try and hurt myself. But they stopped tying me to the bed, so I guess that’s progress. Where have you been? Do owls migrate to warmer climates?”

The little owl ruffles its wings, stretching one of them into the direction of a distant streetlamp. He notices the new, shorter feathers right away.

“Did you get into a fight?” He asks, unable to keep the worry from slipping into his voice and watches the owl move it’s body as if it’s shrugging its shoulders.

❤︎❤︎❤︎

Months go by.

They allow Kurogiri to stay with him.

They move the two of them to a different wing of the hospital into something that could be a rather nice apartment anywhere in the city if not for the locked windows and the buttons next to the door to alert a doctor if needed.

“About the owl…” Shigaraki starts one day when Deku’s done telling him about the progress he’s making on the new reform for handling dangerous Quirks.

“Yeah?” Deku’s shoulders are relaxed but his tone is tense.

“It’s a shapeshifter, right?”

“What makes you think that?”

“I talked to some other people about your soulmate theory and everyone agreed that it was true. And as a human and an animal cannot be soulmates, it has to be a shapeshifter.”

Deku nods slowly. “She’s your soulmate then?”

Shigaraki’s unable to speak as the truth settles in. Some part of him had still been in doubt, but Deku’s face is as open as always, telling him more than he can handle at the moment.

“Would you like to meet her?”

Shigaraki looks down at his hands in his lap, clenching and unclenching.

There are a million things he wants to ask, but it feels wrong to ask Deku instead of you.

“Tell you what…” Deku leans forward in his chair. “I will talk to her. If she wants to come, I’ll bring her with me. One less decision for you to make.”

That night, the owl doesn’t come. Shigaraki stares out the window into the night and allows himself to succumb to the pain in his bones, telling himself to get used to it.

He’ll be happier in the end if he doesn’t set himself up to get disappointed.

❤︎

He knows who you are the moment you step into the room.

It’s in the way you move, how you hold yourself up. It’s in the way you wring your hands and hide behind Deku until he steps away.

“I’m going to get us something to drink.” He grins. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“You came.” Shigaraki says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I…” You take a seat on the chair next to his bed, ass on the edge as you wobble around. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.” He gives back and watches your eyes move up to his eyes before they turn back to the floor.

“I told my father… about you. Had to, because he didn’t want to leave Deika City.”

“You were there?”

“Yeah…” You wobble some more, worrying your lip between your teeth. “Got hit by your quirk. But only a little.” You rush to add. “It wasn’t that bad, I just couldn’t fly after that for a while.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not.” Shigaraki stares out the window, trying to keep himself from looking at you. Even your reflection is too pretty to be in a room with him.

“I did a lot of things that were terrible and that I cannot take back. I don’t know why you would even meet-” He stops abruptly when a single shaking finger is stretched into his field of vision.

Your hand is outstretched, your pointer finger curved.

It’s a faint memory but it reminds him of the one and only time he got the owl, you, to come close.

Without thinking, he leans in until your finger touches his cheek. You move it softly, caressing his skin. Your eyes are locked on to his and he wonders what you see in them. Yours are filled with a softness he doesn’t deserve.

But when you move your fingers to cup his cheek, he can’t help but lean into it.

“Midoriya-san has told me that you got a second chance.” You don’t blink as you speak. “I want to be part of it if you’ll let me.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎

It’s a new year, a new apartment.

The windows aren’t locked anymore and there’s another bedroom for Spinner who might get to start work soon.

Three times a week Shigaraki gets to take classes to retake his high school degree and so far he has learned that he likes math and hates geography, doesn’t mind languages and can’t get enough of art.

He has good days and bad days and days that are worse.

His bones hurt in the morning and there’s no painkiller that could help with that, but each day he gets to open his window and watch you flutter in.

“Mylady.” He offers you his arm when you've shifted into your human body. “Do you want to go take a walk in the park?”

Your eyes gleam as you take it, lean into him. “With you? Always.”

He can deal with the shadows of his life if you keep bringing in the light.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Hurts to be away from you #Follower Celebration #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki #Shigaraki Tomura #Shigaraki fluff #Fluffy Shigaraki #Soft Shigaraki #Happy Shigaraki #MHA Fluff #My Hero Academia Fluff #Light Angst

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thee-morrigan · 1 year

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sincerity is scary

character(s): Holland Townsend, plus a lil Verda at the beginning (technically, Nate's not in this but my god is he living rent-free in Holland's mind) wc/rating: 3.2k / T (swearing) warnings: so many spoilers for Book 3 (all below the cut ofc!) read on ao3 in case anyone’s wondering, Holland still thinks the scariest thing she’s up against is her own stupid heart.

“Come on, Verda, you have to have something for me. I want to do things. I need to do things.”

“You know, some research suggests that feeling the need to be busy all the time is a trauma response,” the pathologist responded mildly, not looking up from the tray of instruments he was busy sterilizing. “That it’s a fear-based compulsion to distract your brain from meaningfully processing traumatic events.”

“You wanna send me those citations, then, and I can distract myself with some light reading?” Holland snapped back, but there was no heat in it.

Verda paused his work then and turned, giving a huff of laughter whose lightness was somewhat diminished by the careful assessment in his eyes as they swept her face. Although they’d started out, as many good friends do, brought together not by fate or fortune but chance proximity, they had quickly discovered bright shared threads of themselves in each other beneath the veneer of professional courtesy and had found themselves fast companions ever since.

He respected her as a colleague, of course; more than he’d expected, if he was honest. She had a stronger background in his line of work than he’d dared to hope in such a small station, which made her a useful colleague to have when he found himself stymied by something. And — perhaps most importantly — she didn’t pester him with questions she didn’t even know were asinine when a case experienced delays. He’d liked Detective Reele more or less, but she’d been marginally tolerable when things didn’t move at the speed she decided appropriate, regardless of whether he could make degraded tissue spontaneously re-materialize when she decided she wanted clearer fingerprints. No, Detective Townsend was a better colleague, that was certain.

More than just respecting her work, though, he liked Holland in general; she brought a borderline acerbic levity to the station that balanced against Tina’s more exuberant nature and his own tendency to forget to venture upstairs at least once a day. She wasn’t calmer than Tina, exactly — he wasn’t sure calm was a word that had ever been used to describe Holland Townsend. But if Tina was something in the neighborhood of bubbly, all iridescent soap shine and rounded edges, Holland was something sharper, something fizzing, like a live wire.

When he looked at her now, though, he saw less of the bright crackle of energy and more of the kind of nervous energy that led people to market abhorrent devices like fidget spinners. She looked restless. She looked tired.

—

Holland was tired. Goddamn exhausted, actually, if she was honest with herself, which seemed to be almost never these days. She didn’t let herself linger on the way that thought chafed any more than she let herself slow down enough for that bone-deep weariness to press its full weight against her.

It was better to keep moving.

“You know, you’re probably overdue for a vacation,” Verda’s voice, more tinged with concern than it had been a moment ago, cut through her reverie. “I’m pretty sure your promotion to detective didn’t entitle you to less PTO.”

The spark of wry humor in his comment didn’t fully mask the shade of careful observation in his eyes, but…it was an attempt. An easy out for her to muster her usual grinning nonchalance — the irreverent charm Adam had once snarked at her about relying on too heavily.

If it ain’t broke, I guess, she thought, swallowing the urge to sigh as she indeed summoned a half-smile, made herself look her friend in the eye as she tilted her head at him.

“There you go with that concern again, V,” she teased, rising from her perch on the edge of a spare lab bench.

“It’s almost like we’re friends,” he said dryly, although some of the tension in his face eased.

“Which is why I’m gonna let you get back to it and quit bugging you.” Holland moved toward the open lab door and paused, resting one hand against the door jamb as she flashed Verda a more genuine smile. “Thanks, though. For letting me bug you.”

He waved her comment off, though he returned her smile. “Anytime. Besides, I’m hoping things will finally start calming back down with those recent cases sorted. Then we’ll both probably relish any interruptions to the usual humdrum.”

It was all she could do to dredge up a hum of laughter in agreement before stepping back into the corridor, only letting her shoulders slump once she was safely ensconced in her office.

She hadn’t told any of them yet that she was leaving the station. She’d have to soon; she knew that, knew she’d been putting it off far too long already. And, as her mother had pointed out, it wasn’t as if she was never going to be able to see them again. Her friends would still be her friends. They just wouldn’t work together anymore.

Or mostly get to know what she even did for work anymore.

She wasn’t even entirely sure how much she could still keep Tina in the loop, as much as she might wish to. She didn’t have any reason to be particularly suspicious of Agent Pierson, the woman the Agency had sent to spy on Tina from within the station. But as much as she trusted Tina —with her secrets but also to take care of herself— she worried that the balm of having a confidant who was just hers was no longer truly available to her, at least not in the way it had been. Part of that fear, she knew, came from knowing she couldn’t reveal that the so-called new officer was not exactly who she seemed. In all likelihood, the whole arrangement probably really was for Tina’s safety, and probably nothing to worry about, but…Holland still felt like she was lying to her. And not the kind of lying she was comfortable with.

A liar and a coward, she thought as she sat at her desk, chin propped in her hands. She felt that constricting weight begin to settle against her, her skin too tight along her bones, and jerked to her feet again before that melancholia could curl catlike into her lap and trap her there.

She supposed it was useful that everyone had become so inured to her abrupt comings and goings from the station; no one bothered to look up as she walked out into the bright heat of the midday sun, its sticky warmth blanketing her body after a morning spent in the over-conditioned chill of the station’s air.

—

She ended up back in her apartment more out of habit than any real desire to be there. For a while, she found herself drifting, unmoored and aimless, between rooms. She should try to rest, she knew that, knew that if she could sleep she would feel better.

These days, though, she too often found herself reaching for sleep only to close her fist around endless, empty time.

She tried to read, to lose herself in another universe for a while, but gave up after she realized that while she’d technically read a whole chapter, she had no idea what had happened in it.

She thought about playing guitar but figured if she couldn’t focus on reading, she probably wouldn’t fare much better at making anything that sounded like music instead of discordant strumming.

Plus she was already bored of sitting still in the empty quiet of her apartment.

Pushing herself off her window seat, Holland strode to her dresser and tugged out shorts and a sports bra. Experience had taught her long ago that she couldn’t outrun her own brain, but at least she could tire her body enough that she was forced to sleep, at least a little.

—

Because she was already tired, it took longer than usual to find her pace, especially without any music to give her a cadence she could match. In deference to safety, she’d decided against headphones; probably a wise choice — definitely a wise choice, she reminded herself, hardly a choice at all unless she decided to start actively courting disaster — but one that did nothing to lessen the weight of that heaviness that kept pulling at her, brutal and swift as a rip current. Still, after three miles, she felt some of the tension in her body ebb, some of that near-constant tightness in her chest yielding its grip enough for breathing to come easier, deep and steady draughts of air filling her lungs.

For a long while, there was only the blessed gentle warmth of summer air, the quiet scraping thump of her sneakers against the sidewalk, and the pleasant ache of her muscles stretching and contracting. Slowly, mile after mile, she felt her body become less foreign, each pounding step bringing it closer to the skin and bones and thudding heart that she recognized as her own. Felt each clenching beat of that too-human muscle in her chest insisting it was where it belonged, safe within its cage of bone and flesh. Felt the reassurance that her heart hadn’t been torn from her chest and left, raw and bleeding, outside her body.

No matter how it might feel lately.

A liar and a coward.

The sharp dig of a knife between her ribs, the claws of that familiar tightness latching into her chest again, and—

Breathe.

She sucked in air with a sharp gasp, forced her lungs to expand, to draw air in and in and in until she could feel those claws retract.

Until she felt the thought she’d almost had, the one she still hadn’t let herself articulate even within her own mind, retract with them.

Another kind of lie. Another thing she was too much of a coward to confront.

Holland sucked in another breath, letting the sultry weight of that summer air fill her, fill all the cold, empty spaces that lurked within her. Let the warmth of it incinerate the other unarticulated thoughts and shadows of memory before they could turn their baleful, accusatory eyes back toward her.

Turning her own gaze outward once more, she scanned her surroundings, squinting at a nearby street sign as she passed and trying to decide how much further until she really would need to loop back. Holland’s run had taken her well into the outskirts of town. It wasn’t her preferred route, which snaked through the woods near the Cornerstones and eventually toward the marina, but at least this route hadn’t taken her through Wayhaven proper. Or required her to skirt the station, as her usual path would have. Even if she was leaving — even if no one seemed to really notice or care whether she was, at any given moment, in her office these days — she still didn’t think running directly past the station in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon was necessarily appropriate.

So Holland found herself instead approaching the winding series of long hills that would eventually lead her toward the hospital. Her knees ached just thinking about those hills. None were particularly steep, but they stretched further than was typically noticeable in a car. On foot, though…no, it was probably past time for her to begin finding her way back home.

It had been a while since she’d been on a long run. A long while, actually, and she knew her legs would likely ache come morning, even with the shorter maintenance runs she tried to squeeze in whenever she could. Which had been no chance at all these past weeks, between work and what felt like an endless cycle of injury and suffocatingly long recovery. Indeed, she felt the muscles in her thighs protest as she crested one hill before veering right, toward the streets leading back into town. Oh, she would certainly feel the cost of this impromptu long run in the morning.

Although it might be a nice change, she supposed, if her body ached from something other than having the shit kicked out of her by Trappers. Or crumbling buildings. Or winged giants who caused said buildings to end up in pieces on top of her. And those were only some of the most recent aches.

She rolled her shoulders, shaking her arms to diffuse the pressing tension of that memory, her breath a sharp scrape against her throat.

Fine. She was fine. Despite the strain of these past months, she continued to be perfectly fine. Had gotten through everything that’d been thrown at her. Not entirely smoothly, certainly not effortlessly, but…she had gotten through it. Would continue to do so, perhaps with greater ease than before if her new role indeed provided increased training. She could handle it. She would handle it.

It was the same argument she’d given Nate after the auction, almost two weeks ago now. As to whether she believed it any more now than she had then…another thought she wasn’t ready to have yet.

I am in love with you, Holland.

Another familiar ache in her chest, one more bruise on her already battered heart. She shut down that train of thought, almost stumbling as she worked to redirect that particular train of thought. To shut out the image that flashed across her mind’s eye, of how Nate’s face had looked in that conversation. The way he’d looked at her, the agony that had streaked across his beautiful face, and how neatly and thoroughly it had eviscerated her.

That pain. That pain that she had caused.

I don’t know how this is going to work.

She’d had to remind herself how to breathe. Had to remind herself to breathe through the lashing pain of how much she’d hated herself for putting that look on his face. And for knowing that it would likely be far from the last time.

Because she didn’t know either.

She didn’t know how to avoid it, this hurting him. Didn’t know how to be an easier person to love.

And as for what she did know, what she’d suspected and quietly fretted over for weeks now…

That hideous weight tugged beneath her ribs and Holland sped up, pushing past the bleating tremor in her thighs, the burning ache in her chest. Pushed that thought out, out, out—

“Fuck!” The word was little more than a hiss as the world tipped and roiled and Holland went flying, elbows skidding and knees barking as she hit the pavement.

Between the subsequent string of violent curses and what remained of her pride, she supposed she was relieved to still be closer to the outskirts than the town center. If running past the station in the middle of a Tuesday was arguably inappropriate, the selection of words that flew out of her mouth as she eased to a seat on the ground was indisputably so.

She winced as she examined the shredded skin on her forearms, her knees. She hadn’t even fallen well: the most she’d done before splaying gracelessly on the street had been to land more on her arms than her hands. Not her first choice, or at least it shouldn’t have been, but at least she hadn’t broken her wrists. Or anything else, as far as she could tell, looking her latest batch of wounds over as she rose to her feet.

Holland hissed again as she gingerly flexed her left leg, which had borne the brunt of the impact and now sported angry red scrapes along her knee and halfway up her thigh. Just scrapes, but ones that stretched painfully when she bent her leg.

Swallowing another mouthful of curses, she pulled free the water bottle attached to her running belt, unstoppering it with her teeth before she squeezed a stream of water along first one leg, then the other, and then the smaller scrapes on her arms and elbows. They stung like all hell, but at least they looked slightly better with most of the dirt and grime rinsed away. Naturally, she’d forgotten to bother checking if she’d needed to restock the handful of bandages she usually kept in one of the belt’s pockets; naturally, she only unearthed one after fumbling through every goddamned pocket, the lone bandage too small to be of much use unless she fancied ripping adhesive off part of an open wound later.

She exhaled, sharp and impatient, and raked a hand over the sweat-dampened strands of hair that had broken free of her stubby ponytail and now lay plastered to her forehead.

No new scars indeed. She snorted as she recalled Nate’s words in that forest clearing, back before they’d even known what manner of myth hunted her. She doubted it had occurred to him that she’d likely continue to rack up scars earned through her own sheer stupidity. God, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

She drained the remains of her water bottle before slotting it back in its elastic holster at her hip. She toed the ground, wincing at her protesting kneecap, and considered. Depending on the route she took, she wasn’t that far from her apartment. The circuitous route she’d intended to follow was obviously out, but she could take a more direct one and be back relatively quickly. Walking, it would take…she did the math, frowning. Walking back, assuming she kept her regular pace, would likely take her the better part of two hours. She stretched her legs again, shifting experimentally from one foot to the other. She was hurt, yes, but it was definitely only superficial, and not so bad she couldn’t probably run home as well as she could walk. Running would be faster, even with what would certainly be a much slower pace. Would likely cut the return time in half, actually, though she knew it would hurt. Of course, it would hurt to walk home, too.

Holland’s shoulders sagged. Since she’d stopped moving, her body had started to register physical exhaustion, had begun to grow heavy with it, and she wanted to be home. Wanted a shower and her bed and a different kind of silence than the kind that felt like a scream.

She did have another option, some small part of her mind pointed out before she shut that thought out, too. Technically, the warehouse, where she had a bed and a shower and certainly less silence, was a bit closer to her current location than her own apartment. However begrudgingly, Holland had to admit the thought tempted her. Tempted her more when she thought of the magic-imbued salve, leftover from what had been her most recent batch of injuries, stashed in a bathroom cabinet. To say nothing of the vampire whose mere presence soothed her more than any medicine.

Her frown deepened. She was tired of showing up at the warehouse battered and bloody. Really goddamned tired of it.

She straightened, rolling her shoulders and breathing deep. Her apartment wasn’t that far, and it was only a skinned knee. Well, two skinned knees, actually, and her elbows, but…

Holland released that deep breath and set off, a tentative jog while she found her new pace, toward the town center and her apartment beyond.

She didn’t much feel like reminding anyone how easily she broke apart.

#this is so maudlin lmao sorry #she's not having a great time #katie writes things #twc book 3 spoilers #twc spoilers #twc fics #oc: holland townsend #ship: your entire heart

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tartglias · 3 years

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almost falling (headcanons)

characters: scaramouche and xiao

warnings: VIOLENCE. i’m 98% sure i kept it slight but just in case don’t read if you’re sensitive please!!

request: “Anyway, so I'm requesting for Xiao and Scaramouche (fitting, they're sadists HAHA) their s/o (separate) is about to be thrown off the balcony after someone pushed them and hit the railings and they're about to hang on edge of their life. The boys just came back after whatever mission or errand they finished and saw the blasphemous attempt of a masochist (because how DARE they attempt such on their s/o?) Trying to kill their love. They sprinted or used their powers to get to them and stopped calamity from unraveling (sorta) into their world. Yes add some Overprotectiveness and probs them hunting to rip that masochist's head if it's not too much. Headcanons pls--“

[a/n: i loved this headcanon and i knew what you write from the start (which i never do lol), but the mental gymnastics i had to do to find the vocabulary omg... i can’t say i’m a big fan of how this turned out because of that]

•••••

Scaramouche

Scaramouche had to do some business in Mondstadt, and since you wanted to visit your friend Amber, why not accompany him? It took a while to convince him since he usually doesn’t like the idea of mixing his personal and work lives, but he has a soft spot for you, believe it or not. Not that he would ever admit it.

Before he left you to do your things, he made you promise to meet him at the Good Hunter after an hour, on the dot. He had a busy schedule, but he still wanted to treat you lunch so you excitedly agreed by kissing his cheek and nodding.

After the meeting, he hoped to see you sitting down at one of the tables waiting for him, but instead, he saw no one. “I thought I made myself clear about punctuality” he thought.

“Did you see my partner? They’re about this height tall, *hair color* and probably accompanied by some friend called Amber?” he asked the girl that took orders at the Good Hunter, with a very obvious fake smile. “Not really, I’m sorry” she said, giving an apologetic look, which quickly turned into a frown. “Although, I thought Outrider Amber was out on a mission today. She even ordered some food supplies this morning, are you sure your partner was with her?”

He took a moment to think. He knows you were meeting with Amber because you kept rambling about how you haven’t seen her in forever and you wanted to surprise her. He can’t recall a time when you lied to him, either. Something about having an honest and open relationship with him, so you couldn’t have lied. And you wouldn’t leave the city without informing him, either.

So he decided to scratch out the possibility of having to search you through all Mondstadt. Then, he nodded towards the girl and left without saying a word.

Walking through the city, he paid attention to details. Something was off, he was sure of it.

After a while, he heard a yell. At first he wasn’t going to do anything about it, it’s not his problem plus he still has to find you. But when he realized the owner of the voice yelled “Leave me alone!”, he knew it was you. He ran towards the origin of the sound and found out that you were on top of the wall that protected Mondstadt.

He climbed as fast as he could and when he got to the top, his blood boiled at the sight.

A big tall man was holding your arms tightly, and then pushed you to the edge. Your back hit the railing and you let out a pained yell. You saw the man approach you with intentions of pushing you again, but before you could lift your arms to protect yourself, you heard thunder.

“You heard them, leave them alone. Now” you heard Scaramouche say. The atmosphere became dark and tense very quick, making a shiver go down your spine.

The man let out a short laugh. “You can’t intimidate me so easily. They were mine first, I’m just reclaiming my property”

Oh boy

“I don’t think you heard me, stupid. Leave them alone, now. Or I’ll make sure you suffer the most painful and slow tortures ever imagined. I have a whole book I want to test out anyways, you know.” Scaramouched threatened, and when you saw the look on his face, you gasped. You never saw him like that

He had a creepy smile, no, it was the smile of a sadist, actually. Small thunders came out of his fingers, and by each second, they grew stronger. You noticed that the man started shaking, now reconsidering everything. Scaramouche tilted his head a bit and let out a laugh. “You don’t want to play anymore?”

The man quickly left, or more like ran for his life without sparing you a second glance. You dropped down to the floor and noticed the sky get clearer, and so did the sound of thunder. You were still teary-eyed and overwhelmed from the situation with the man, but you lifted up your head to see a calmer Scaramouche.

You didn’t notice before, but his purple eyes were sparkling with pink thunder, and once he kneeled down in front of you, they turned back to their original color.

He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close and away from the edge. “Are you alright, my beloved?” he asked you, a hint of concern filling his face. “Now I am. Scaramouche... I never saw you like that” you said, holding his hands that previously let out sparks and thunder.

You heard him sigh. “I lost control. Your scream and then seeing you almost falling... it made me snap. I can’t lose you.”

You kissed him, hoping that this way he can understand that you’re not scared of him and also reassuring him you’re not going anywhere either.

“You scared him for life” you said once you pulled away, laughing slightly. “I’ll scare him for eternity because he won’t be alive after I catch him”

Xiao

He told you numerous times to call his name if you ever found yourself in trouble. Even if it’s just a whisper, a thought even, you just have to say “Xiao” and he would drop whatever he was doing to come to rescue you.

In full honestly, you thought you could handle things on your own. You didn’t need him to come to rescue you, unless a very real danger was knocking on your door. Which unfortunately, leads to this situation.

Moments earlier, you were at the top floor of the inn, waiting for Xiao to come back. Everything was normal, until you noticed two suspicious looking men approach you. At first, you didn’t think much of it since adventurers often ask you for certain locations or roads. But this thought quickly changed when one of them came from behind, a little too close for your liking, before covering your mouth with his hand.

“A little birdie told us you’re close to an adeptus” one of the two men said, standing in front of you with a smug smile. “We need a favor”

It happened very quick, you were fighting for your life as you screamed and tried to kick the man holding you down. You almost succeeded, if it wasn’t for the other man in front of you. He held your arms tightly and pushed you towards the edge, you lost your balance and tripped over it, but quickly managed to grab onto the railing.

“Go on. Call the adeptus for help, we’ll love to have a small chat with-“ the man started saying, but got cut off by a strong wind that made him trip over. It was Xiao.

His eyes immediately landed on you, you were trying so hard to lift yourself up but you were slowly slipping. You weren’t going to last much longer and rage filled both his body and mind almost instantly.

How dare they lay a finger on you to get to him? “Worthless. Pathetic. Stupid.” he muttered each time he hit the men, until knocking them out. His eyes went back to you, and he immediately sprinted towards the railing.

But he was late

Your hands that desperately tried to grip the railing and lift yourself up were red and they hurt, and just when he was about to extend his hand for you to take, you slipped and fell.

You thought it was over, truly. You yelled out Xiao’s name as you tried to get hold of anything that could possibly prevent you from hitting the ground, but you were far away and the floor was coming closer and closer. You closed your eyes, ready to face your end.

But that end didn’t come, and you found yourself wrapped in Xiao’s arms while strong winds surrounded you, keeping you from hitting the ground abruptly. Once his feet touched the floor, you heard a faint sigh of relief from him.

Now on the ground, you dropped to the floor while you sobbed in Xiao’s arms, suddenly very aware of how close you came to meeting death. He kept you close to his body, as if you’re gonna slip away from him again. He faced many monsters and wrath in his life, but he never felt as scared as he did at the moment.

“I’m sorry” Xiao muttered out once your crying calmed down. Drying your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked at him questioningly. “You almost died because they were after me”

This made you cry more

He was kind of confused? Why were you crying again?

“Xiao you don’t have to apologize because its not your fault at all and you also saved me! I should apologize for not being careful and tripping!” you sobbed again. “But it’s not your fault either...” he whispered as he patted your head, not sure how to calm you down.

Xiao doesn’t kill humans, but nothing is going to stop him from making hilichurls, mages, and other monsters appear in the way of these two men. He’s going to make them pay (indirectly)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche scenarios #scaramouche imagines #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #xiao scenarios #xiao imagines

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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BTS at the SDG UN General Assembly (210920)

by Admin 1

Six days, as well as one flight from Seoul to New York City, after receiving their diplomatic passports, the day of BTS’ third UN appearance finally came. The SDG UN General Assembly AM session began with several speakers, one of them South Korea’s President Moon who first gave his own speech before introducing BTS by saying: “joining us today are an exceptionally outstanding group of young men who are connecting with youth across the world (...). BTS the first ever Special Envoy from the private sector (...) probably the artist that is most loved by people around the world.”

Like I said in my post about their visit to the Blue House, I was impossibly proud watching them walk onto that stage at the UN HQ bringing along two posters, one of which had pictures sent in by ARMY, and give their speech in Korean instead of English. Unlike the first time back in 2018 when only Namjoon had spoken, this time all the members took turns to lay out a meaningful speech which you can either watch in the video below (English subs, as well as in many other languages, are provided) or read it a little further below.

youtube

In the videos of the members sitting on the side waiting for their turn you could see each of them taking deep breaths and practicing their part of the speech a few more times wanting make sure they could deliver it to the best of their abilities on a stage as unique as this one. Their nervousness was clearly visible at various degrees underlining only so much more how historic this moment really was, for them, for the current and future generations, but also for their country.

Over the years, and especially since Namjoon’s first UN speech, ARMY made a million edits about President Kim Namjoon and today we saw a visual that turned edits into real life, even if “only” as UN speaker instead of president. If you ask me, he’ll always be my president. I’m sure JK would agree with me.

Speaking of which, it’s a beautiful coincidence that during his first speech at the UN (aside from the online version last year) JK is the same age as Namjoon was in 2018 during his first UN speech.

Before they began, it was so interesting to see Namjoon take a moment to look at his members, see if everyone is ready, and only once he was sure that they were, he began. Very leader like of him.

Though I don’t have a picture/gif of it, something that I thought was very meaningful and therefore important to mention was a moment during one of Jimin’s parts where his nervousness got to him. Instead of panicking, he simply took a moment, lowered his microphone, took a deep breath, collected himself, and then continued on with what he was supposed to say. It was a very human moment, one that showcases that it is okay to be overwhelmed, to take a small break, just a few seconds, before continuing, that it’s not embarrassing or a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength to calmly overcome the moment and continue on, brave and confident.

Another thing worth mentioning was how during their speech the different world leaders sitting in the audience, including President Moon, took out their phones to take pictures or videos of the members, how after they were done and left the stage and made their way out of the Hall, many of them gave them thumbs up as they passed, some even greeting them with a safe elbow bump, a show of respect and admiration. After all it takes tremendous courage to deliver a speech like this in a place such as this one.

The grand finale of their appearance, of course, was the pre-recorded performance of Permission to Dance filmed inside the Hall, the entrance area of the HQ, as well as the space in front of the building and a park next to it. It was shown on the two monitors inside the Hall as well for the attending world leaders to see as well.

youtube

We’ve seen so many iconic stages, especially since Dynamite Era last year, but I never thought we’d get to see them perform at the UN HQ, literally. In my early ARMY days, I never expected that our journey would take us here, and yet, as I think about it now, it completely makes sense that it did. Bangtan were always destined for greatness. It’s now clearer than ever before.

I do love how even at a performance as meaningful as this one, Jimin and Tae still found a way to have two tiny moments, the one in the gif below but also one that came just before it (though I couldn’t find or make a gif of it myself, sorry) where they seemed to giggle/smile at each other while Tae showed Jimin a jump he wanted, and also ended up doing afterward, for the camera.

Though they didn’t interact in the Permission to Dance performance, my little Namjin heart was so happy to see Namjoon and Seokjin side by side throughout the appearance, which I’m aware was in large dictated by their usual lineup (though it was adjusted so Namjoon was in the center with three members to either side from him) but it still reminded me of Namjoon’s request to Seokjin four years ago, as in that he please be by his side at events like this because it makes him calmer.

Much the way it was back in 2018, this time we also got some selcas from Seokjin, Yoongi and Hobi showing off their UN IDs as well as their UN x SK masks which were also worn by the President and First Lady (and likely also their staff). One thing that caught my eye though were their pins which, upon first glance, seemed like the same ones everyone else had, but when you looked closer it turns out that our boys had to be a bit extra. Out with the plain ones, in with the bedazzled versions that, because of the gems, remind me of their mics as well.

Koreas pride with pins that sparkle just as beautifully as they do.

All in all this was a historical moment, something I’m impossibly grateful I got to witness live. My ARMY pride and ego is through the roof today and will remain as such for a long time going forward. The members have come a long way and have grown and matured into stunning young men with bright minds and intelligent words. As much as it was an honor for them to be there, it is an honor for us to be their fans, to support them, and I cannot wait to see where we’ll go from here but one thing is for sure, Hobi certainly was right, liking BTS certainly was the best decision ever.

#BTS #BTS UNGA #Namjoon #Seokjin #Yoongi #Hoseok #Jimin #Taehyung #Jungkook #bts united nations #Vmin #namjin

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happysoot · 3 years

Text

waking up together || dream smp blurbs

✧ pairings ↠ sapnap x reader, karl x reader, quackity x reader, niki x reader. ↠ dream smp!characters; in-game au; gn!reader.

✧ warnings ↠ none! this is very, very fluffy.

✧ word count ↠ 1.6k.

✧ a/n ↠ this is my first time writing for any of the dream smp characters, but I had a lot of fun with this! soft gentle domestic fluff makes my heart happy :’) ! if you have any requests or suggestions, please please send them in! <3

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ

✧ sapnap x reader ✧

waking up beside sapnap is like waking up beside a teddy bear. when he sleeps, he runs hot, and that means that every time you wake up together, you’re smothered in a warm embrace that heats you up completely. once it’d become clear that you enjoy sleeping beside him, you’d had to adapt, taking on a few traditions to balance out the warmth you get from his cuddles.

you sleep in less, choosing light pyjamas or t-shirts over a hoodie like you might’ve previously done. the duvet you rest beneath is thinner, and often you’ll end up kicking it off in your sleep. all you need is sapnap, and the warmth of his arms curled around you, and despite the changes that you’ve had to make, you wouldn’t want it any other way. nothing beats how safe you feel wrapped up with your face buried in his chest.

sapnap likes to wake you up with gentle kisses up your neck. he’ll shyly run the line up to your jaw, often leaving a chaste kiss to the tip of your chin before shuffling down and burying his face in your neck as he whines about the gaps in the blinds. it doesn’t matter what time it is, nor how much sleep you’ve both had—sap never wants to wake up, and you never want to let him go.

so you cuddle together, often into the afternoon. if you’ve both had busy weeks and haven’t spent much time together, cuddling in the mornings is the best way to recharge. he’s always so cute, too. nothing brings out sapnap’s adoration for you like the gentle warmth of the morning, and he loves showering you with his favourite pet names. with his inhibitions sleepy and lowered, he’s quick to shower you with any nickname that comes to mind, mumbling them into the air without a second thought—sweetheart, angel, cutie.

he’s so doting, constantly lifting his face so he can kiss you, or running his hand soothingly over your side. sapnap holds you like you’re his entire world—and maybe, with the way he holds you so tightly and whimpers every time you try to shift away—you are.

✧ karl x reader ✧

karl is always frantic in the mornings, his eyes widening with panic the moment he stirs awake. with desperate hands, he carefully runs his fingers all over your face, tracing the lines of your nose, your cheeks and lips with his fingertips. it used to confuse you—you never understood why he held you so tightly and seemed relieved every time you opened your eyes to smile at him, but then you found out about the spaces in his memory, and things became clearer.

he has a routine now, some steps he likes to complete each morning to calm himself. as soon as he wakes, karl turns in the bed to face you, pressing his cheek onto the same pillow as yours as he lifts his hand to rest on your face. while he waits for you to wake up, he gently strokes his fingers across your cheek, his eyes analysing every line of your face, every ridge of your skin, and every strand of your hair as he scrambles to print them to his memory.

when you blink open your eyes, he’s usually looking at you, or he’s resting close with his eyes shut. you let him know that you’re awake by cuddling closer and linking your hands together, squeezing his fingers until he hums. you have a quick exchange of muttered words, neither of you wanting to break the softness of the silence—

‘did you sleep well, baby?’ / ‘yeah, karl. did you?’ / ‘mmm. you look so pretty in the morning.’

like his hands, once you’re awake, karl likes to run his mouth across your face, learning your skin with his lips. following this, he likes to nudge you onto your back and climb on top of you, warm body resting over yours as he holds your face in his hands and studies you attentively. you always like to tangle your hands in his hair, loosely playing with the messy strands of his hair as he whispers words of affirmation between gentle kisses to your cheeks, his loving words doused in soft pink—

’i love you so much, baby, you look so perfect today… so cute. so beautiful. i'm so lucky.’

he holds you with purpose, always keeping at least one hand on you at all times. you’re like a grounding force to him, and he hates straying too far from your side. even when you both eventually get up, he slips his hand in yours and you let it stay there, swinging between you, for as long as he needs it to be there. sometimes you stay connected all day.

✧ quackity x reader ✧

quackity is a very busy man, always scheming, always plotting. you don’t get to spend much time together during the day, so he always makes the most of the moments you share each morning.

he’s the type of person who finds the energy to spring to life suddenly every morning, possessing the quality of being able to wake up one moment and then be fully alert the next. though he never tries to intentionally rouse you, he somehow always ends up coaxing you from your slumber, either through trying to tug you closer or muttering his adoring coos too loudly.

he’s always quick to apologise and offer up tighter cuddles or soft kisses in reparation, and really, you think it’d be hard to hold a grudge against him. quackity is always so cute in the mornings—he melts around you so easily, losing his brash sense of humour whenever you rest together. he might be calmer, but he’s still got that charmingly boyish twinkle in his eyes, and if quackity’s feeling particularly mischievous, sometimes he’ll let his hands go on a wander around your figure as he rasps praising profanities into your ear.

quackity’s usually the first out of bed, and though he leaves you alone to go and make some breakfast, he always comes back, bringing with him your favourite foods and drinks. you sit up against the headboard and he stretches out across the bottom of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with one of his arms in the air, the other resting on the bottom of your leg as you chat. he always likes to know what your plans for the day are, always likes to see if he can find small slots in his schedule to break away and meet up with you.

when he leaves you, it’s never in a hurry, even if he’s got places to be. he prioritises you over everything—hangs onto your lips until he has to go, buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent, squeezes your hands until your fingers ache. both of you treasure the mornings because they’re so serene and so safe, and he keeps the memory of you tucked up together locked away in the back of his mind as he goes about his day, falling back to it every time things get tough. you are his favourite daydream.

✧ niki x reader ✧

since niki started baking again, it’s less often that you’ll find yourself waking up beside your girlfriend. most mornings, niki is gone hours before you stir, enjoying walking through the rays of early-morning sun as she goes to her bakery to start preparing the food. you’re used to an empty bed beside you, but it never deeply upsets you.

niki always leaves small reminders, hidden all around the house, to express her love towards you even when she can’t be by your side. she always tucks you in before she goes, and she carefully smoothes your hair from your face. sometimes, if you’re sleeping lightly, you’ll rouse just enough to feel her kiss your forehead as she goes out. she is always so soft with you, even so early, closing the doors gently and leaving your favourite mug out by the kettle.

though you’ve told her a thousand times before that you don’t mind her absence—how could you, when being in the bakery makes her so happy?—niki always tries to make it up to you. most days, she’ll drop by briefly when her loaves are rising just to see you again, always with a fresh pastry or a loaf of your favourite bread, scattered with the seeds in the shape of a heart.

she kisses your cheek and asks you about your dreams, letting your hands swing between you both, your fingers wrapped in hers. when she has to go back to the bakery, you’ll usually walk with her, pinkies interlocked, listening to her tell you stories from her morning and letting the sounds of her laughter light up the air like the sweetest birdsong.

as much as you’re used to the empty bed beside you, on the rare mornings where niki does sleep in, it has to be one of your favourite things.

she curls up into you, face nuzzled into your chest. her hair always smells of sweet strawberries, scent drifting up your nose and alerting you to her presence before you feel her. niki is like a soft ball of warmth, so gentle even in her sleep, never moving too much. she’s usually awake before you, but she never rushes you to wake up. she waits until you’ve got your eyes open too to do anything, and even then, nothing is rushed.

it’s all gentle caresses and forehead kisses, shared whispers about dreams and the cosiness of your bed. you savour the feeling of her nose pressed to yours as she giggles. you like to have a hand wrapped around her, your palm resting on her back as you hold her to you, and she likes tangling your legs together and playing with your hair. things are gentle in the mornings with niki, and like the actions of the rising sun, she coaxes you into the day with ease.

#sapnap x reader #quackity x reader #karl x reader #niki x reader #dsmp fanfic #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader

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levi-ish · 3 years

Text

Enough is Enough | Jean Kirstein

Summary: It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

Pairing: Jean X Reader

Genre: [+18] angst, smut

Warnings: manipulation, cheating

Masterlist

“Enough is enough.”

It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

He never complained. He would always open the door for you to come in and lay all your sorrows onto him, crying while stuffing your mouth with ice cream and cheap wine until you felt sick, the same routine every time, like it was scheduled. Jean liked to joke about you being his own thunderstorm, that came around and shook everything up — but in truth, it was because you were a mess that was destroying everything around you.

He never complained. He would put you to bed after getting sick because of all the alcohol in your system, give you aspirins and water to make you feel better the next morning, give you the best duvet, the fuzzy one so you would feel better while cuddling it and leave the room all to yourself. He didn’t want to intrude, but would check on you every 30 minutes, to make sure you hadn’t thrown up all over the place.

He never complained. He didn’t mind that he had the work next morning, or that he had classes earlier the day, because it took only one smile from you and he was done for the week.

It would take only a smile and you were gone, as if you were never there in the first place, back in some guys arms again as you held the same genuine smile. As if you were meant to be there in the first place.

It took you three years to admit that you were broken.

For years Jean secretly hoped you would realize how bad you were hurting yourself, fingering your own wounds like it was pleasurable. Playing in your own blood as guys threw themselves upon you, offering amazing things, like you were a shiny new toy that became dull overnight.

But then, three years ago, you were introduced to his friend group, in a house party that was too big for you two, almost overbearing, and when Jean went to grab you a drink, a knight in a shining armor introduced himself as Eren, and suddenly, things changed—

—for the worse.

Eren was the same, but he held his face high, his ego above his head as he spoke to anyone. You’d get that feeling of comfort instantly, as if he was your soulmate or whatever, and that was the problem — that he was able to make you his as soon as he landed his eyes on you.

You told Jean yourself about the things you would hear: ‘you’re perfect’, ‘I’m yours’, ‘we are meant to be’, ‘you can trust me’; and all that repeated itself whenever he fucked up. And he did. Real bad.

He never bothered to make it official, he knew he had you on his feet, worshiping his every movement and serving as a rug for him to step on without care. He would hook up with random girls at parties, bars, places where you could watch from afar and suffer from the same heartbreak. But as soon as he was done, he would go back to you, hold your hands and make you feel as though you were to blame for his actions, and that taking him back was the best you could do.

And that sickened Jean.

It wasn’t because he was in love with you, no, but because he couldn’t stand to watch you break your face every time and collect your pieces to glue them back, hoping they would stay the same. He knew how bad it hurt you, and how bad it felt to feel unrequited. He just wished things were different.

So he did the same thing he would do every time you came; he put on the same old mask and held you tight in his arms as you cried deeply.

But this time, it wasn’t like the others.

You looked up from hiding in his chest, eyes teary and reddening from all the crying as you both laid on the floor, only supported by each others bodies. You had this angry rush going through your veins and being explicitly shown in your gaze, but there was something soft inside, something like peaking curiosity, like there was something you weren’t all that sure that moment.

“Enough is enough” you said as you stared right into his soul. Jean was confused, he had never seen this look, this thundering inside your orbs, like something was about to breakthrough and leave a mess behind. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Jean put one of his hands on your cheek, wiping the running tears from your face with his thumb and you leaned into his palm, now holding his wrist with your two hands, eyes never leaving him.

“Take me, Jean. Please” you pleaded as her nails dug into his skin, and now he was more confused than ever. His blood rushed through his veins faster than before and he swore that his muscles would burn his skin apart.

Wha—

“Make me forget” you moved her fingers to his face, holding his jaw in place and sniffing, containing your tears so they wouldn’t fall once more.

“I-I can’t!” He managed to say, shaking his head, and holding your forearms. “You’re blinded by the sadness, I—”

“I know what I want!” you stated, your tone was firm and self-assured, making every hair on his body stand as your eyes shot bullets through his. “I need you, Jean. You’re the one. I know you’ll make it all go away.”

You didn’t give him any warnings before connecting your lips. It was everything he ever imagined and more; the softness, the velvety tongue, the way your rhythm seemed to match his as you both held onto each other like your lives depended on it. He almost went crazy when your fingers started to explore his honeyed strands, holding his head in place while you commanded every move.

Jean snapped out of his trance and put his hands on your back, grasping your body with such tightness, as if you would run away, but the way your mouths danced together, it made him feel calmer about his fears and give in.

He loved the way you made he feel, as you praised him with cold fingertips and gave him truth in your comfort with every peck, butterfly touches flew through his skin while your whimpers began to grow. His arms hugged your small form as you climbed on his thighs to straddle him, shooting goosebumps on the poor man.

You leaned back for a moment, watching his moonlit face as his lips were covered in a shiny gleam, the same as yours. His hands moved to your waist, grabbing the fat there and massaging just above the bone as you took off your jacket without breaking eye contact, heading to the t-shirt you were wearing.

He didn’t want to look down, not wanting to disrespect you in any form, until you guided his big hands to your bare breasts, feeling the hotness of his palms as he grabbed them gently. You threw your head back slightly, letting out a soft hum and grinding slowly, making small groans form deep in his throat.

Jean gave you one small look to make sure you were consenting and dove into your skin, his hot mouth engulfing your nipples, giving the same treatment to each of them, rounding the little erect nub with his tongue. He had never been so close to you, and for years that had been the thing he wanted the most, so he made sure to enjoy while it lasted; he wanted you to feel how much he had wanted you.

You held onto his hair as you threw your head back, savoring each of the new sensations you got to experience that moment. He licked a path to your neck, feeling your heartbeats on the tip of his tongue and giving the sweet spot you held there open mouth kisses, praising with silent movements.

He trailed a way back to your lips, mouth ghosting over your sensitive skin until he found his desired destination. You welcomed him back there, holding his face as his hands were firm on your hips, guiding your every move as you felt him growing more and more by the time.

It took a little while for you to decide that it was enough and you stood, unbuttoning your pants and kicking them aside, rushing back to the mess of a man she’d let on the floor. Jean unbuckled his belt quickly as you found yourself sitting back on his lap, giving desperate pecks to his lips as he had pushed his clothes just enough to spring his hot member free.

The darkness and desperation didn’t allow you to stare for too long, quickly moving your panties to the side and sliding down on his shaft, a long mewl leaving your lips as he groaned into yours. From half-lidded eyes, you studied his expression; he had his brows furrowed and held his lower lip between his teeth, his hands gripping back on your thighs as you moved slowly.

It felt amazing, he loved how hot and wet you were, how desperate your hands tried to grab everything they could find, just so they could hold onto your desires. He loved the way your breaths came together as one and how hot the room around him felt. He loved how your nails dug onto his skin, making sure the half-crescents would be stained there the next day. But most of all, he loved how you’d chosen him to bless with your body and soul, and how connected he felt to you.

And oh, the way you moaned his name over and over as you felt him filling you up so good, he swore that was the sight that he wanted for the rest of his life.

“Ngh, Jean” you pleaded, a series of whimpers leaving your mouth. “I’m cumming.”

He held onto you tighter now, feeling the heat that pooled in his lower stomach now rush to his cock, hands going up and down your back as you got off from the closeness and hot breaths. Your grip turned stronger on his shoulders and you buried your face in the nape of his neck, moans now clearer and a mess of words falling from your mouth.

But there was one thing that he heard in the brim of the moment, that stuck onto him and was now the reason of his climax.

“I’m yours.”

You kept on repeating those words amongst sweet nothings in his ear, like a little devil trying to manipulate your thoughts, and then, you two had reached your highs, left dozing off on the wooden floor of his apartment.

It made him the happiest, to take you over and over, all night long, eyes craving into each others as the melodies of your mewls were the only things in his mind. He praised you all night long with his mouth, his cock, his body, and soul, making sure you knew you were loved and wanted the way you’d always wanted to be.

And then it was morning, and as soon as the sunlight hit Jean’s eyes, he knew it had to be a dream, a reality that would’ve only mattered to him. He turned to the side to find the empty bed, thrown covers as if you’d left in a hurry, not bothering to say goodbye, not bothering to leave behind his beating heart, his whole soul that was handed to you the night before.

Not even a note.

He would sight, feeling the emptiness rush back into his chest as he grabbed his phone, seeing that Eren had uploaded a new story, and he had the feeling he knew what it was already. And there it was, only a picture of your legs on his bed, and it was enough for him to know that he had helped you feed your lie.

You were a thunderstorm after all.

It took you three years to realize that you were stuck in something you’d gotten yourself into. And it took you one night to ruin him completely.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #eren yeager #eren jeager #eren x reader #jean smut #jean kirstein smut #aot #attack on titan

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orphicrose · 3 years

Text

The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

_________________꧁♥︎꧂_________________

Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

————————————————

Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

#rick sanchez #morty smith #rick x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fantasy #fanfic #headcannons #spacecraft #rick and morty #ocs #a lot of words #a lot of work #comedy #romance

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siriusblackmakesmesoft · 3 years

Text

Angel

James Potter X Reader

A/N: hhhh it’s been so long sorry if this sucks but I love you!! Requests are open if you’re willing to wait weeks for me to finish something

Taglist: @emmaev

@whompingweasley

Warnings: Sad dramatic James, house neutral reader, She/Her pronouns, cheeky reader, kind of short, the most cliche thing I’ve ever written, let me know if I missed anything !!

Word count: 1428

enjoy :)

James rarely had bad days.

Quidditch star, potions genius, loving friends and family, his life was pretty much perfect. His day had started great, if you asked him, with telling of his quidditch dream to Sirius and Remus while eating his favorite breakfast foods. It was a good morning, he got an essay returned with good feedback from his professor, Gryffindor had the pitch right after lunch so he got loads of practice in, and Remus helped him study for his Herbology quiz, so now he felt confident in passing it. Yes it started out a great day for James Potter.

Until it all stopped.

On his way to herbology, James wanted to stop at his dorm to get a sweater- for herbology was outside today and it was quite chilly. He ran quickly, grabbed his quidditch sweater and a fresh quill, and ran to the classroom as fast as he could. He was 10 minutes late, and that was the start of a very bad day.

After the professor gave him two days worth of detention, he sulked to the back of the class. James slipped on the way to the back, mud getting on his new quidditch sweater, getting caked in the screws of his glasses. Usually he’d laugh along. Usually he would jump up, make some sort of silly comment, and strut back to the space he meant to be in. Usually James had good days. But today, being late and detention, falling and listening to everyone laughing at him, he decided that today was the worst day of his life.

After the laughing calmed down, he brushed his hair out with his hands and left the class. Sneaking out of herbology was an easy feat, especially when class was held outside, so walking into the school and to his dorms was no problem. He put his sweater to wash, sniffling as he got mud on his face as he took his shirt off. He took his glasses off, running them under warm water to try and get the dried mud off. He took a shower, hot water swaddling him as he watched mud melt out of his hair. He put sweatpants on and an old knit sweater his mum got him. He decided he would go to the library for the rest of today. Nothing bad can happen in the library.

And for the most part he was right. The library was calm, serene, nobody to laugh at him and nowhere to slip in mud. He wrote a list of the things he would have to do after skipping the last half of his classes today, and circled ones he would ask his friends for help with. He felt calmer now, almost silly, as if he overreacted for such small things happening to him.

“May I sit here?” James was startled out of his thoughts, looking up to see a lovely (Y/H) girl looking down at him. His brain short circuited, every word he’s ever spoken slipped his mind, he stared at her as if she were speaking a different language. And even though his brain was screaming and begging him to say anything, anything at all, nothing came out. His mouth just kept opening and closing, gaping like a fish out of water.

“You can say no, it won’t upset me.” She spoke again, and in the short two minutes that James had known this girl, he convinced himself that she was an angel. Sent to him to save him from his day worsening.

“I’d actually love it if you sat with me, perhaps some company could make my day better.” He tried his best at a genuine grin, showing his dimples and reddened cheeks, and though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, she smiled back and sat in the chair next to him.

“Do you want to talk about your awful day? Talking about stuff always makes me feel better.” James looked at her as he thought about it. She was very pretty, and very sweet too. And even though they just met, James decided he had to keep her in his life forever.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, really, but dwelling always makes me more upset. I find that pretty girls are enough of an antidote.” He winked as he said it, waiting for her eruption of giggles and her cheeks to get hot, but it never came. She just looked at him, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “My name is (Y/N), by the way. You’re James Potter, right? I’m friends with Remus. We study on Thursdays.” James found himself only able to nod, staring at her with his lips parted, studying her face as she introduced herself. She knew his name, said it so casually, as if she didn’t steal his heart out of his body and make it beat with her hands.

“Are you an angel?” He hadn’t meant to say it outloud, he’s been thinking it this whole time.

“Not last time I checked, though I’ll admit it’s been a while since I bothered to look, why do you ask?” Her lips were quirked up so slightly, he almost believed her.

“You’re just,” How would he end that sentence? He watched as her smirk got bigger, turning into a smile. Hot cheeks and a cheeky grin, she only got more enticing the longer he was near her.

“‘M just what? Surely you’ve got a few ideas.” Her voice was laced with humor, her teasing lilt making him snap out of the trance he was in. Suddenly his head was clearer than ever, coherent and moving and happy. In a good mood. His bad day erased from existence.

“You’re perfect, is what you are. An angel sent straight down to me.” His smile grew, turned boyish, as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Perfect? However did you come to that conclusion?” Her voice was teasing, a silly gasp at the start of her sentence, her hand going to her chest in pretend disbelief. James giggled at her, making her smile grow twice as big, and she started to giggle too.

“Perfect because you made the worst day of my life into one of the best days I’ve had in weeks. Perfect because you made me smile and laugh, and if I weren’t so smart I’d tell you I’m in love with you. If I were to create a contract where you have to make all my bad days into great days, would you sign that?” She giggled even more, covering her face with her hands and taking a deep breath.

“What’s in it for me?” Her smile became shy, and James noticed. Her hot cheeks burned even more now, her eyes looking up at him through her eyelashes. He suddenly felt bold, felt drawn to her, felt the need to keep her near him forever.

“I’ll take you on the best dates of your life.”

“That’s for you too, isn’t it?” She smiled knowingly at him.

“Of course it is, can’t let my angel go now, can I?” His dimples were showing. He hastily grabbed his bag, pulled out paper and a quill, and started messily writing.

“I, James Potter, agree to take you, (Y/N), on the best damn dates of your life, as long as you’ll let me, so long as you promise to make my bad days better.” He read the paper out loud, drew a big X, signed his name, and passed it over to her.

She looked at him for a long time, making James feel nervous that he went too far. What was he thinking? They met half an hour ago.

As he was scolding himself, she grabbed his quill and wrote on the paper.

“I, (Y/N), promise to do my best to make all your bad days good ones, so long as you, James Potter, take me on the best damn dates of my life, as long as I’ll let you.”

She drew a big X, signed her name, and reached out her hand. James' smile took up his whole face as he shook her hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. James Potter. I’m free on Saturday for a life changing date. Do let me know if you’re having a terrible day.” She grabbed her things and packed her bag. Before she walked away she leaned down and kissed his cheek. As she walked out the library doors, she turned to him and winked.

“I need to start having bad days more often.”

#james potter x reader #james potter #James potter fluff #James potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fanfiction

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caesthetix · 3 years

Text

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Pt. 2 Devoted Worshipper

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, established relationship, spoiler for season 4

You hummed softly as your feet dragged you towards the Commander's office. The hallway was quiet, yellow hue from the candles illuminated your pathway. Some of the rooms were occupied, you knew from the laughter that could be heard here and there. Soldiers cheering and sharing drinks without any weight on their shoulders.

And it made you feel a little bit melancholic as you thought about it.

When you dragged your friends to lounge around together, you wanted to feel the same warmth and comfort that was usually there when everyone huddled together. Even though you knew that it would never be the same anymore with one of you being taken on the battlefield, you still hoped that they would have each other to rely on.

Yet the atmosphere was tense. Sometimes overlapping the sorrow that coated their hearts. Maybe that was the coping mechanism, to forget about the pain, they all used anger, trying to point their finger to where it all went wrong, searching for the root of this havoc.

You knew that Sasha's death hit Connie harder than anyone. Yes, everyone had their individual bonds with the gluttonous woman, but there was something that differentiated his relationship with her. There were only two kinds of bonds that could emit such emotional turmoil; twins, and romantic love.

And they were like family, no, twins — and to lose a part of your soul would make anyone else gone mad.

Letting out a sigh, you tried to focus on your breathing. The door that led to Hange's office was within your eyesight already, you had your own job right now, your own mission. And that was to meet with your lover who, right now, people wouldn't dare to spend some time alone with him.

You remembered the day it all changed, where the most expressive person you ever knew suddenly closed his heart from the world. It was just a simple touch, lips grazing the back of her hand, and suddenly, the look on his face that day was the last fiery emotion which you ever saw coming from him.

He was distant, no, detached. It was as if he had his own world, as if he knew something that no one else could ever understand. You tried to ask him, to share whatever inside his mind, to share his burden. But every time you asked, he would just stare at you, with emerald eyes filled with one emotion that you could never understand.

It was not love, not some affection. There was no sadness indeed, no tears glistening in those beautiful orbs. He just looked at you with something that you could not fathom. Though, amidst all the cold shoulder that you got from him, you were still standing right by his side.

Like a devoted worshipper, following him to anywhere he goes, without even questioning where and why.

You were Eren's shield, some even said more faithful than Mikasa herself. There was no doubt in your eyes, whatever happened, no matter how many innocent souls were now in his hands, there wasn't a single time you ever asked the universe why he did all of that. Not even for a second, you didn't need a reason to believe him.

Everyone always questioned your feelings for said titan shifter since the beginning, when all of you were just wannabe soldiers in the training corps. There was no way you saw him as only a friend with how you always had this smile on your face when his name was mentioned.

Then one day when they saw his lips lingering on your forehead before they were all dispersed to defend Trost, they knew you would bind yourself to that man.

And they were right.

It was no secret already that you might be the most neutral in between all of them, but they knew who had you crawling to at the end of the day. Eren Yeager, no one else but him. He was your ultimate reason, the love of your life, the man who owned all of your heart; you didn't leave anything for yourself.

But you didn't even care about that, knowing your heart was placed on the right man.

"(Y/n)?"

You jolted when you saw the door opened, gaze trailed up to find your Commander staring at you with questioned eyes. Lost in your thoughts, you did not realise that you had been standing in front of Hange's office for perhaps a few minutes now.

"Commander Hange!" A perfect salute coming from you, making them chuckle at how enthusiastic you acted even in this darkest hour. You could see the bag under their eyes, brown locks dishevelled as some of the strands were all over the place. This fact alone made you frown. "You should get some rest, Hange."

Your voice changed completely, there was no smile etched on your face, and they knew how serious you were as you blurted out the words. "I mean it, as a friend."

They bit their lips, eyes closing shut as they tried to control the storm in their head. After a few seconds, they moved away slightly from the door to give you space, hands retracted to the side as they told you to come in, stopping whatever they were supposed to do right now.

Your lips curled into a small smile as you knew that Hange would take your advice. Even though it was just temporary, perhaps a little rest was better than nothing at all.

Nodding your head, you walked inside the office and stopped not too far from the door. Waiting for their instruction to where to sit, your gaze fleeting around the space that was more modern than their old office in the previous Headquarters.

It used to be so dim, only one light illuminating the whole room. You remembered how many times you stumbled over the items that were cluttering around the lab that they forgot to pick up. Now the lights were clearer, positioned on each side of the wall, resulting in all the corners shining with the yellow hue.

Of course, there was a massive bookshelf near the desk, not even one book was missing, everything was filled as you took it as a sign that the commander had been working on papers nonstop, not once loosening up to enjoy the victory over the attack on Marley.

"You could sit on the couch, or the chair, it's up to you, really."

Hange's voice sounded calmer now as they closed the door and walked back behind their desk before they plopped themselves on the big cushioned chair. You followed the gesture and sat across from them, deciding that it was better to be eye to eye if you were going to talk with them later on.

Their fingers running down their messy strands before pulling the hair tie to free it from the upcoming headache that already threatened to come. "Damn it, I am so tired."

That made you chuckle.

"I understand, Hange. And it's alright to feel tired, you are human after all." Not a normal human like the rest of the world, but the needs and stamina were still the same, whether you were an Eldian or people outside Paradis. The brunette smiled a little at your words and stood up to prepare a drink, grabbing two porcelain cups as they poured two teaspoons of dark powder on each cup.

"I take it you are okay with coffee, am I wrong?" They smirked a little as they turned to see you with a smile beamed on your face. "Awh, you are welcome, my dear~"

"Oh, Hange, you know how much I love that drink."

It didn't take long for them to prepare the drink. They had this big bottle that could hold hot water to stay boiled after a few hours. God, you thanked Niccolo for introducing that item to all of you. Speaking of the blonde man, you frowned a little as you wondered if he received the news about Sasha's death.

You wanted to go and deliver the information itself, but you knew with your condition right now that everyone would want you to rest until you get better. Connie, Niccolo, Sasha's family, you couldn't imagine the pain that they felt to lose someone that you loved so much with all of your heart.

And you couldn't help but think how much it would hurt if Eren was gone from this world.

"Here you go, (Y/n)," Hange spoke softly as they pushed the coffee cup in your line of vision. "Careful, it's still hot." They came at the right time, you didn't even realise the sweat on your forehead started to form due to the panic inside your head. You really did not want to think about that, it was too much.

You retrieved the coffee gently before settling it on your lap, palms feeling the warmth from the hot liquid as you rest one of your hands at the side of the cup. The air was cold, and for you, the porcelain worked wonders to make it to be touchable enough.

The two of you were engulfed by comfortable silence. Your nose crinkled softly when the scent of the coffee lingered in the room. Ah, coffee, that magical drink from Marley. You cursed a little at your ancestor when you first tasted the new beverage, saying how it's not fair that it took you a dozen years to know such a thing.

"You can drink it anytime you want now."

Eren smiled softly at your reaction and whispered that to you after a few seconds of watching your reaction. You didn't know what was inside his mind at that time, but his words were enough to make your heart flutter.

It was rare for him to show any interest or excitement, so you cherished all the fragments of his old self and carved it deep inside your mind. You loved the smell of coffee, because it reminded you of the world outside the wall, and it reminded you of a promise that once made.

Eren would lead you to your freedom, not with you as a follower, but with you to walk alongside him as he retrieved the rights that were taken away from all humans in Paradis.

Yes, Eren, the reminiscent was enough to snap you back. You were here for a reason, and that was to meet him, to spend time with him. No. You were there to dig some information from your lover's mind. It was for the sake of your friends, to make them feel better and feel more at peace rather than just standing in the dark.

After all, you didn't need to know his reason. You were satisfied enough to fight and walk alongside him.

Right?

"Now, what is it that you wanted to ask me?"

You jolted when you heard Hange throw the question as if you were just having a conversation about the weather, making the cup in front of your lips falter a little as you looked at them with shock. Catching you off guard like that was amusing to them. "What? You don't think I couldn't read you like an open book?"

Hange was harmless, at least to you. They said that not because they wanted to intimidate you, but more into wanting to prove to themselves how much they knew you. Everything was shown in their face, from the glint in their eyes to a snicker that slipped from their lips.

You let out a sigh before slipping down the cup of coffee back to your lap. They waited, understanding that you were slightly embarrassed with how much they could read you. Maybe you forgot, but they were the ones who asked Erwin to make you a part of their squad.

There was no one else that could tolerate Eren Yeager without him tolerating them enough. Eren actually listened to you, thoughtful of your decision and thinking about all of your scolds. Eren didn't listen to anyone, not even the Commander sometimes. If he didn't want to listen then he wouldn't.

But you were the only creature that, whatever you said, he would always take consideration of.

Starting from that benefit, Hange was now attached to you. They adored your strong will, how you would put your life over anyone (especially Eren) but yet still had a clear mind over it. You were fast, not as powerful as Mikasa, but you could think straight and strategize.

And they were hooked, they were proud to be the superior who knew you. Not even the Commander could understand the way you were thinking sometimes, but it was his loss anyway. Since he saw you as an asset for Eren instead of seeing you as a sole soldier who stood for herself.

"I need to speak with Eren." You were not done yet. "Alone."

The room was silent once again as they mulled over your words. They were sure it was not a request, but more as a demand. They chuckled internally to see you like this, intimidating, trying to get to your goal with a simple command.

"And what makes you think that I would let you?" They didn't want to prolong this, but they needed to know further why you wanted to see him. Truthfully, Hange was going to go to check on Eren before. But you came and told them to rest, funny how now you were the one who asked to talk to him.

They were afraid for you, that man was not the same as he was a few years ago. Everything changed after they reclaimed Shiganshina. And to let you talk with him without no one else guarding you, that tasted like a recipe for disaster.

"You would let me." Ha, cocky as ever when the time needed. "You know I could take down a lot of men and titan single-handedly, you know Eren would never lay a finger on me with the purpose to hurt me." Your voice was loud and clear, completely turning you into a soldier. "There is no downside to it. And if you think I would let him escape, you should know that I could do it anytime I want."

You had a point, that was what they knew. There was no malicious intent on your voice, just a need to talk to an old friend, to your lover. Even if you were sitting there in front of them with a serious facade, desperation was shown inside your eyes with how much you longed to have some alone time with the man.

They put down the cup of coffee on their table, sighing as they thought about what was the right thing. It was their call after all. You were someone who would do anything for Eren, but at the same time, you were a soldier, a good one that always followed the rules.

But to what extent would you stay to be a good soldier? If one day a condition caused the Survey Corps to be on the opposite side from Eren, where would you stand?

No, you were loyal — to either the Survey Corps or Eren. At least right now it was like that, and they just had to believe you in this.

"Alright." Your lips twitched at their answer, you must be so excited, and that made them softened a little. "You can just take down this soldier's side of yours, (Y/n). Just be a friend now, I hear your request loud and clear."

You nodded a little, still having your stoic, serious expression on your face. It wouldn't be long though, they were sure of that. One, two, three—

"Oh, Hange!" You wailed, setting the cup on the wooden table before you stood up and walked behind the desk, wanting to embrace them. "You don't know how much I miss him, I wanted to tackle him and just wrap my hands around him in the airship before."

The brunette chuckled when you finally fell to their chest, hugging them so tightly as you were clutching their uniform. "It's been months, Hange, thank you. Thank you so much."

"Oh, dear." They awkwardly patted your back, chuckling at your reaction. "I know, you are craving for him, I know." Everyone could see it, your love for Eren was something that couldn't be hidden from the world. Even Yelena and the others knew from one look at you.

You stayed there for a few seconds, calming yourself down from the enthusiasm that was bubbling up. You didn't want to scare off your lover with your sudden embrace or nonstop kisses. So you had to compose yourself by pouring some of the affection to someone that you trusted was enough.

"I mean it, thank you, Hange." You pulled away, though still had your hands on their arms as you squeezed it gently. The way you looked at them was so ethereal, comforting, and shone with what they believed as love. "Can I go now, then?"

"Yes, of course."

Hange gave you one last smile before pulling themselves away from you too. "I actually just pulled something that wouldn't be approved by Zackly. So, is half an hour enough for you?" They actually did not want to give you a time limit, but it would be bad if someone else found you in the cell with a criminal.

"Ah, of course." They let out a sigh of relief when they heard your answer. "I understand, Hange. As much as I love to spend time with Eren, I know that this meeting alone could jeopardize your position." Goodness, always so understanding, Eren sure is lucky.

"Alright, here." A dangling sound filled the room as they fetched the keys from their pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of the silver metal, palms up as they dropped the key on your hands. "Make sure you didn't forget to lock—"

"Y-You'll let me go inside?" If you looked so delighted before, now you looked like you could burst as you tried to process the meaning behind the given keys.

One solid nod from the commander, and that's all it took for your tears to slip down your cheek.

You took a few steps back before giving them a salute, one that they answered back because of how much respect they had for you too. It had been years since they knew you, and it made them tear up a little with how much you had grown, yet still the same naive girl they saw that day in the training corps.

As you walked away to the door, they looked at you with fondness in their eyes. The brunette saw you as a close friend, like a sister they never had.

It was their call, they knew this was the best. For you to meet the love that you longed for, you deserved to feel such comfort in this hellish world. And to know that they could make you feel this happy, they felt like the best sibling in the world for giving such joy in your life.

Even when they heard a click from the door, a sign that you were on your way down the cell, their smiles never faltered. Shaking their head softly at the puppy love that showed as you bounced around with giddiness, they immersed themselves on the papers once again.

Little did they know that this decision would haunt them until they took their last breath.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"This is tiresome."

Hange yawned and stretched their limbs as they tossed down the last report that they had to finish. They really needed to take your advice and get more rest. Ah, you, now they just realised how much time had passed after the last time they saw you from before.

Their eyes fleeting to the clock on the wall, raising one of their eyebrows when they realised it was already forty-five minutes since you left.

I need to check on her, they thought. Even if they believed that you would not let anyone harm you in any way, they still needed to get you to rest. After all, you were still wounded, and they didn't want one of their best soldiers to tire herself more.

Stretching their limbs to the side, cracking their neck and hearing the pop here and there, now they were satisfied. Standing up to embark on their little journey, their eyes flickered to the empty cup of coffee that belonged to you. It was so clean, you even drank the harsh powder that lingered at the bottom.

You did really love coffee, they couldn't help but wanted to surprise you that they had a new type from Yelena tomorrow morning. Hange could imagine you screaming already and drinking a lot with them. A little piece of heaven indeed, talking with a friend without thinking of their burden, maybe it was enough for them right now.

Chuckling softly, the brunette locked the door to their office before strolling down the empty hallway, wanting to have a chat with you before closing the day.

It was late at night, the rest of the scouts were mostly asleep or drinking their hearts out, celebrating the first win of the Island of Paradis. Thinking about war made their shoulders slump, they were already tired and just wanted everything to end. But they just had to suck it up, holding onto the hope that it would end soon.

There was no one else in sight as they walked, the one who accompanied them was just the yellow flame and their own mind. Now they wondered what kind of talk that you had with your lover. Even if Eren was now just an emotionless human being, they thought that he would still be the same around you. Still as loving, even though more careful with the amount of affection that he gave.

Everyone who had eyes could see how devoted you were to the man, no matter how many times he was always preoccupied with himself, falling deep into his own spiraling mind, no more acknowledging your existence who was always by his side.

Armin and Jean would often call you up to join the rest of them to town or just to have fun. But you always stayed seated, resting your head on his shoulder as you try to give comfort to the man that you gave your heart to. Typical you, prioritizing his needs over your own.

The air changed all of a sudden as their feet finally reached the first rung that would lead them to the basement. It was so humid, and they really think you were such a saint by staying here for almost an hour without complaining.

Love really made people do something crazy, to the extent that their own comfort did not matter.

There was no sound of arguing that could be heard, which was good. It was so silent, and somehow they wanted to just turn back around. Inside their mind, they could see you curled up on the hard bed with Eren's arms draped around your figure.

Just by thinking of that, they couldn't hide the smile that emerged on their face at this point. What a youth, filled with love and comfort, something that not everyone could find inside a life of a soldier. Yet there you were, making the love that you had to be a reason to stay strong, to keep on living.

Hange made a decision, that if you were indeed safe and sound on your lover's embrace, then they would let you two be.

But when their feet stopped right in front of the cell, their light brown pupils dilated in horror.

The air was humid, suffocating, and their chest felt so constricted within these walls. They were not even inside, yet by just standing there right now, they couldn't help but want to puke.

Inside, they could see how Eren faced the mirror on the wall, his hands gripping tight to the silver sink that filled with water. There was nothing that could be emitted from his expression, not even a single emotion could be seen inside his emerald eyes that was always praised by you.

And as their gaze finally dared to look at the shadow in their peripheral vision, they could feel their heart stop.

In the back of the room, your body slumped on the dirty wall — idle, lifeless. Hange gasped, hands stumbled as they opened the cell and rushed to your side. Their fingers immediately went to your bruised neck to check on your pulse on instinct.

And nothing.

They found nothing.

Not even a beat.

"Eren, what did you do?" Their eyes never left your figure, gaze fleeting toward your orbs that were now empty. They choked, swallowing a huge lump before resting their ear on your torso, hoping that they could hear your heartbeat. But they were met with the same void. "Eren, what did you do?!"

Hange bit their lips, fetching the keys in your palm, they carefully hoisting your body as they managed to not cry, but they couldn't hold their sob as they realised they lost yet another good soldier, a good friend. If Eren could not give them an answer, they were the ones who were going to find it.

If only, God, if only they didn't let you meet up with Eren.

You would probably go back to your friends, easing their pain with your comforting words. You would wake up tomorrow morning and walk to their office, sharing a cup of coffee together before they gave you a briefing for what the scouts would do for the whole day.

But it was not possible, it was no longer possible. They should have known it.

No, they refused to give up now. Gritting their teeth, they still didn't want to believe that you were gone for real. They didn't care anymore if they were out of their mind, their free hand immediately closed and locked the cell harshly, needing to see the doctor, a paramedic that was around. Holding on to a hopeless dream that maybe you could be saved.

What could they say to your friends? That you died because of how they let you meet a deadly criminal, the same person that also had your heart on his palms? Hange was not sure that the man was the one who was responsible for your death, but there was no one else around.

And those bruises, red hue smearing your neck like a vice-grip.

They shook their head, not wanting to think about it for now as they tried to lift you up. They needed to get you upstairs, calling out the paramedic that was probably sleeping right now, needing them to save you.

When their feet made contact with the first stairs, they could hear a mutter from the cell which belonged to your lover. It was only a few words, and yet with how low his voice was, lingered with nothing but a glimpse of despair — it sent a shiver down their spine.

"I gave her freedom."

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

smoke and fire (04b)

word count; 7050

summary; you wait hours for news on the young boy, and when the results are finally in, it looks like a breakthrough with thomas might be on the horizon.

notes; this is the second half of part four since it got so long, hope you guys enjoy!

warnings; reference to injury.

Trying to make yourself a little calmer, and distract yourself from how you were feeling, you peeled the gloves from your hands, dropping them in the nearest trash can and searching to find some toilets. The mirror did not offer you a reflection you were proud to see, tear-stained cheeks that cut through sweat-caked dust in tracks, messy hair and red eyes; like picturesque misery.

There was blood on the clean fabric of your button-up shirt, and your medical bag held little that would be able to help, but you were sure you could at least make a start. Holding your hand under the dispenser for soap, the soft humming made by the machine as it deposited a small pile of foam into your hand was enough to break the rigid silence, and you let out a slow breath. Logically, you knew it wasn’t your fault that he was injured, the boy was almost an adult, he was old enough to make his own decisions, and yet you’d let yourself become attached, you’d tried to offer him advice that had backfired, and so you couldn't help but feel partly responsible.

The water ran pink as your skin was cleared, before shaky fingers were coming up to undo the buttons along your top. The long-sleeve top worn underneath wasn’t the warmest of items, but it was better than sitting in a blood-soaked shirt, and so you folded the crisp white uniform up carefully, tucking it into your bag and letting out a sigh. With hands cupped under the cold water tap, you let your palms fill, before leaning over the sink and splashing your face carefully with the water, rubbing away the grime and salt present on your skin until it felt fresh and clean once again.

Your eyes were still lined with red and your throat was still raw, but both of those would begin to fade as you finally began to get a hold of yourself once again. Your head was hurting, both inside and outside, the tight ponytail your hair was pulled up into made your scalp ache as you released it, and you rubbed your fingers gently through the strands to try and soothe that pain, making a note to find some water for your oncoming headache soon.

Finally, it was enough, hair flailing loose around your shoulders once again and skin clean, at least feeling a little more comfortable than you had, and as you patted down the pockets of your bag, you found your phone again, grateful that Newt must’ve tucked it in there when he’d gone back to the van for you, because you were sure you’d left it on the dash. There was a text from Newt, just having arrived back at the station, saying that he'd spoken to Vince and everything was cleared up, while Brenda had also left a text saying she was hoping that both you and the boy were okay.

A voice cleared in front of you, snapping your attention away from where you were trying to think of how to reply, clicking your phone off and looking away to find the source of the disturbance. Allison was standing before you, a gown on her body and a scrub cap on her head, but she’d shed the mask and gloves, for now, smiling a little as she began to undo the ties behind her back and neck.

“I came to give you a little update about what’s going on.”

“Already? It’s only been, what, forty minutes?” Panic flared up inside of you once again at the speed at which she was emerging, but the soft smile and a chuckle she gave to you was reassurance enough.

“Don’t worry, the kid is doing alright. Doctor Hale is great at his job, and it’s all going smoothly.” You rubbed your hands down along your pants, clearing sweaty palms and standing up to be the same height as her. “He’ll be going into the ICU after this, so why don’t you walk with me now and I’ll take you up to that waiting room, it's a little more comfortable and private than the corridors.”

“He’s going to be alright, then?”

“He’s going to be just fine.” She confirmed, waiting a second for you to grab your bag and swing it onto a shoulder, before she was setting off through the halls again, guiding you as she made her way towards the elevator. “He lost a fair amount of blood, but we’ve got him on some bags now, and his levels are steadying again, he’s starting to get some colour back, so we’re happy with that process, and his heartbeat is stronger.”

You watched as she pressed the button to signal the machine, silver doors reflecting back at you, and you felt positively exhausted as you slumped upon hearing the good news, tensions and adrenaline finally being able to slip away. “What about his legs?”

“Well, we won’t know much about any of it until he wakes up, and we can test his response to stimulus when the drugs in his system wear off and we can replace the anaesthetic with general medication, but the shattered leg has been set and is due to be wrapped in a cast, it’s all we can do, but it isn’t looking the best on the outcome.”

You winced, knowing there was nothing more you could have done, but you still hated to know what the repercussions might be. The elevator ride was silent, as was the walk to the waiting room, and yet none of it was uncomfortable, she was simply a companion at your side who had brought you a little peace, and when you were of a more stable and clear mindset next time, you’d thank her properly for being so kind to you, and make a better effort to get to know the nurses here, but right now, you didn’t have the right headspace for anything other than taking it ten minutes at a time.

“There’s not much more we can do now, it’s all about recovery, really. You did some great work out there, we’ve cleaned and applied new stitches to his wounds, I did it myself, and I promise they won’t burst any time soon.” You nodded your head, trying to absorb all the information that you could, but your mind was spinning, only focusing on the fact that he was going to be okay. “We’ll keep him in the hospital for a while, and check on him, his head has been patched up, luckily it was a crack and it hadn't splintered, so we’re happy with that.”

“When he comes out, will I be able to see him?”

“Yes, you can.” She turned to smile at you now, holding the doors open to a much nicer, and empty waiting room, you being the only person here, nobody flying past busily, phones ringing and conversations being had, it was calm and serene, and exactly what you needed. “Doctor Hale is going to come and talk to you more comprehensively himself while they get him all set up, and it shouldn’t take too long for the anaesthetic to wear off. As soon as he wakes up, we can get him started on some real painkillers that won’t knock him out.”

“Excellent.” You sighed, brushing yourself off for invisible dirt a story anxiety took over, before looking back to her. “Thank you so much, I can’t even tell you how much it all means to me.”

“It’s no trouble, truly.” She placed a comforting hand on your arm, squeezing lightly. “You’re one of our own. Derek, uh, Doctor Hale, he feels like he really owes the fire department, so he would do pretty much anything for you all. House ‘21 was one of the firehouses involved in saving his family when there was a house fire. He has a big family, and he almost lost them a few years ago, this is the least he can do, he feels.”

You had no idea, you’d never been anywhere long enough to reap the seeds of good acts so far down the line, but you felt proud just to be able to associate yourself with the team, to be a member of Firehouse ‘21, even if you hadn't been there for that event. They were a great team, a wonderful group of people, and you were proud to be associated with them. You weren’t sure how long it would last, but for the first time in a long time, your first thought wasn’t the next immediate escape route.

“I’m going to head back in there, now. It shouldn't be much longer.”

You nodded, watching as she walked away, and leaving you alone in the peacefulness of the waiting room. There was a table, stacked up with magazines and a water machine in the corner, chilled and humming slowly, and you made your way over towards that firstly. Taking one of the flimsy little cups, you held it under the nozzle, pushing on the button of the cold water, and watching as it filled up, the temperature making your fingers cool as it moved toward the top.

Taking it back over to one row of chairs, they were much more comfortable than the others, the hard plastic being replaced for soft cushioning, warm and inviting, and you slumped down into it. Shuffling through your bag, you were grateful to find the half-used try of painkillers you'd hidden in there for personal use, thanking a past version of yourself for thinking ahead, and popping two of the small tablets out, placed on your tongue and reaching for the cup. Several swigs of the water, until the cup was empty, washing them down and enjoying the cool feeling washing along your throat and soothing the burn, and you felt a little more refreshed immediately.

This time, as you filled it up, you took a moment to observe the room you were in. A small, ornamental water fountain sat on one of the counters, soft sounds of trickling water as you neared it, and it was relaxing just to be around, stacks of little pebbles to create a water fountain, and blue lights to make the pool of water seem clearer, you lips flicking up at the sides. There was a radio, it wasn’t turned on and you didn’t intend to do so, but you admired its place here, the room filled with things all around so that there was something to calm and relax every type of person, no matter what their comfort was, and as you settled back down into the seats, you found you weren't quite so stressed anymore.

Producing your phone from your pocket once again, you sipped at your water, the headache you had finally beginning to recede, and you replied to Brenda, a thumb swiping rapidly across the screen as you thanked her for her concern, and gave her an update that he was due out of surgery any time now. You replied to Newt too, once again thanking him profusely, as yet another batch of unrelated guilt began to make itself known, surfacing as you realised you’d just abandoned your partner to do all the work.

Neither of them replied, both messages being left on ‘read’, and you simply hoped that they were having fun with the team, getting to relax and destress after a long day, and they weren’t torturing themselves in the same way that you were.

The elevator chimed, not too far away, the other end of the corridor, and you paused. Following it, there was the sound of wheels, moving along the corridor, squeaking a little as a bed rattled, before fading away, and your heart leapt in your chest as you resisted the urge to stand up and look out, staying sat where you were. Your suspicions were confirmed, however, when the doors opened up, the doctor who you’d seen only a couple of hours ago appearing once again, and you pushed yourself up to your feet as fast as you could, meeting the doctor, who looked a little frazzled and worn out, but optimistic nonetheless.

“Doctor Hale, hi.”

He smiled a little, ducking his head. “You can call me Derek. I’m not your doctor.” Your cheeks heated a little bit, mumbling his name as you grew used to the feel of it in your mouth, and he cleared his throat. “So, you ready for that update?”

“Absolutely.” You confirmed, and he turned his body, placing a hand on your lower back and guiding you back towards the doors.

“How about I tell you on the way to the coffee machine, because I’m desperate for a double espresso, three times over.” You grinned, laughing lightly as you agreed, just the thought of such a drink making your mouth water, and you grabbed at your bag, swinging it onto one arm and letting it dangle as you followed behind him. He held the door open for you, guiding you through the halls, and you followed after him, falling into a comfortable pace beside one another. “First of all, do you happen to know his name? We can’t get anything up on file, and we can’t put him on medications until we know if he has allergies.”

“All I know is that he’s called Aaron, I think. He’s been here before, though, should be on file. I brought him in a couple of weeks ago for the injuries on his stomach.”

The man beside you nodded, taking the pen from his pocket and writing down the name on the back of his hand. “Alright, well, I’m pretty optimistic about how Aaron is doing. He’s all set up in an ICU room now, and as soon as he starts to come around, we can let you in to visit him. While you’re in there, we need you to try and get some contact details, his parents, anything like that, so we can try and get him on file, if we can’t find him in the system, but we have a lot of Aarons’.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“His leg is now in a cast, we set it as best we could, but there was more damage along his spine, so I’m not overly optimistic about that. I don’t know how bad the paralysis will be, but there’s definitely going to be some loss of movement there, he won’t make a full recovery, not from a fall like that with his injuries.” It wasn’t a surprise, you had been anticipating the worst, and so far, everything beyond being told he didn’t make it was just a blessing. Stopping before the coffee machine beside a nurses desk, the screen flashed to life as he swiped his card through the holder, greeting him with his ID on screen, and he began to program a selection of shots and syrups into the blend. “What are you having?”

“Oh, I don’t have a-”

“My treat, let me buy you a coffee. I get a doctor discount on it anyway.” You couldn't resist the charming smile he gave you, shrugging a little and laughing under your breath. “Alright, Derek, surprise me. I’m not that fussy.”

“I take that as a challenge.” He confirmed, setting to work on making your brew, and as the machine hummed to life, he returned to the topic of your patient. “We pumped his stomach, we ran a few tests and flushed his system out. You might not like me too much when I tell you this, but with the contents of his stomach and the harm he got into as a minor, with nobody here to explain it, I have contacted the police and child authorities.”

“I don’t blame you, Doc. I really don’t. All I want for this kid is the best in life, I encouraged him to get out of that whole gang-lifestyle, I feel responsible for him even being here, and I-” You cut yourself off as you realised you were rambling, your lips pursing shut, and the coffee maker beside you beeped. He grinned, picking up the second coffee and handing it over to you, but only after pressing a plastic lid onto the top of the coffee cup. Bringing it up to your nose, the sweet smell of delicate spices and warm coffee filled your nose, and you hummed happily at the delicious blend. “Thank you.”

“Just so you know, you saved that kid’s life. You brought him here and he’s safe, you’ve done the best you can, and you did great.” You sighed, blowing at the steam on your coffee and taking a moment, a few deep breaths, settling yourself in the moment. “When he wakes up and starts to surface, we’ll let you know. If you give me your details, I’ll keep you updated on how he does.”

“Sounds like you’re asking me for my number there, Doctor Hale?”

“I thought I told you to call me Derek.” He beamed, both of you knowing it was only a joke, before he was holding the pen from the pocket of his coat out for you and grabbing a piece of paper from the nurses stand. Placing down your coffee, you wrote down your name and number, handing it back over to him, and he looked at it for a moment, repeating your name, before putting it into his pocket. “You can head on back to the waiting room, and I’ll come and get you in a little while when he’s awake, and we’ve got him on something to keep the pain off.”

The device on his belt beeped, calling him away to another case, and he was leaving, a wave on his fingers as he picked up his coffee, and you were left to try and navigate your way back to the waiting room alone.

There were signs up along the walls, but every turn you took felt more confusing, muted coloured walls and total silence feeling more like your new norm as you navigate the maze of pathways, letting out a relieved sigh as you finally caught sight of the same doors you’d come through earlier. There was movement behind them, your heart sinking a little as you realised the peaceful loneliness you had was broken, but you knew other people would be here to visit their families.

Your bag would still be laying on the floor, where you’d left it before leaving to find coffee, and as you made you way back along, the people behind the glass became a little clearer. Blond hair, brown hair, strawberry and jet black. Pushing the door open, your jaw dropped a little as you looked across the group, all eyes turning to face you, and your heart raced in your chest.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re pausing movie night!” Chuck was almost yelling, his enthusiasm getting the better of him, and several members of the team shushed him, while others snickered. “Sorry. We’re pausing movie night.”

“I see that, but, uh, why?”

A few looks were shared among the team, and Newt sighed, standing to his feet from where he’d been lounging in your chair. “Because we’re your team, and we care about you. You’re here for the kid, and we’re here for you.”

He took your coffee from your hands, sniffling it, and winking a little before raising it up to take a sip. His eyes widened a little, before he was gulping down another mouthful, and you snatched it back with a protesting noise.

“That’s good coffee. Where can I get one of those?”

“Doctors only.” You mumbled, a sweet smile on your lips as you took a sip, and he stared at you for a second.

“Are you telling me you made a friend other than me? You really are getting comfortable here.”

You shook your head, pressing it back into his hands after another mouthful of coffee, gifting it to him. Brenda was holding her arms out to you, a sweet smile on her face as you paused for only a second, before falling into her arms and letting her wrap you up tightly. The moment you squeezed her back, there was another body wrapping around you, making the pair of you giggle as Chuck joined the hug, and you whined at the overwhelming heat that was encasing you when Newt joined in too.

Elbowing yourself free, you wriggled out, popping free and finding the rest of the team still wearing sweet smiles, all standing around and waiting patiently. “Thanks for coming, you guys, it really means a lot to me.”

Settling down with the company of your team, Newt slumped beside you, a backpack of his own on the floor, and he picked it up, roping it down on your lap, and the weight of it winded you a little.

“What was that for?”

“I brought you the clothes from your locker.” You raised a single brow, opening the bag and finding your hoodie and leggings inside, as well as your more comfortable trainers than the ones you wore to work, a little sigh leaving you. “Figured you’d want to be comfy, and you smell a little bit musty and bloody.”

Lifting the edge of your top to your nose, you took a whiff, faint traces being picked up, nothing overwhelming, but it certainly was present. Everybody else had changed their clothes as they left their kit at work, or went home to shower, but no matter what, you appreciated it all.

“So, you gonna’ give us a little update on the kid?”

“Oh, yeah.” You wiped at your nose, feeling yourself get a little emotions, before pulling one leg up under yourself and turning to face him. “So, he’s doing alright. They’re worried about his legs, and they pumped his stomach, but they’re confident about his recovery and they’ve put a cast on his leg. He’s out of surgery now, they’re waiting for him to wake up.”

“What about his parents? They got in touch with them, right?”

“They haven’t got any information on him yet.” You sighed, rubbing at your forehead. “They want me to go in and ask him to give up his information as soon as he wakes up.”

“Well, look alive, because here comes a white coat with determination. A good looking one at that, dark hair, tall, I would be all over that if-”

“Newt!” You hissed, the door opening, and he laughed himself into silence as he brought the coffee to his lips. Standing up, you gave him the bag back, making sure to drop it into his lap with equal the force he’d dropped onto yours, and he spluttered a little, glaring at you and kicking his leg out at you as you walked to meet the doctor. “He’s awake?”

“Yes, he is.” Derek spun on his heel, the two of you walking away towards the main doors, and you turned over your shoulder to scowl at your partner for the kick, a sugary-sweet and sly grin on his lips as you scoffed. “A lot of your friends have shown up, huh?”

“They’re my team, they came to support me.”

“Hey, I think it’s sweet.” He shrugged, guiding you along the halls. “So, he’s in a little pain, nothing awful yet as he’s still waking up, so he’s a sort of woozy. Focus on asking him his last name, if we can pull up his account we can see his allergies and get him some meds, but if he doesn't want to give it up, we need to know about the medicines.”

“What do I tell him when he starts asking questions?”

“We’re going to test his reflexes as soon as we get his medicine sorted but before it kicks in, though they may not be fully comprehensive on the total movement and reflex he can get back.” He stopped outside of the door, and peering in through the glass, you could see the young boy. The hair from the top of his head was shaved away, around the sides too, black locks were gone and bandaging wrapping his head. He was clad in a gown, and the blankets were tucked up around his body, staring up at the rod as he frowned, looking entirely displaced. “Press the button on the side of his bed when you’re ready for us to come in, I’ll wait at the nurses’ station.”

“Thanks, Derek.”

He dipped his head in a nod, taking a step back, and you entered the room. He lifted his head slowly, confusion on his features for a second as you clicked the door shut, before he was huffing again.

“Hey, kiddo, how you feelin’?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, words a little slurred, and you took a seat beside his bed, pulling the chair over, and his head rolled from one side to the other, cheek pressing to the pillow to look at you, but his gaze was unfocused. “My arm is itchy.”

“That’s just your drip line for meds, you’ll be fine.” He made a shocked face, as though you’d reveal the secrets of the universe to him, before his face was screwing up again.

“I hurt a bit too. Everywhere.”

“I know, and we can get you some meds, alright?” He nodded his head, silence falling around you both again, and he was using one hand to scratch at the bedding, toying with the loose thread in the beige blanket, and sighed. “You gonna’ tell me your last name, so we can get you registered and checked in on the system?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll call my foster parents.” Your heart stopped for a moment in your chest, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse for him, you found out the poor kid was in the system, no wonder he’d turned to family wherever he could get it. “I don’t want them to know.”

“Don’t you think they’re worried? You’re going to be here for a while.”

“They’ll be disappointed in me.” He whispered, and you reached out, taking the young boy’s hand in your own, and squeezing lightly. “They’ll bring my little sister, she thinks I’m brave and strong.”

“And she’ll still think that!” He huffed, rolling his eye sin denial and tuning to stare back up at the ceiling. “I get how it feels to not want to let someone down, and to feel alone. I have moved between so many firehouses to find my home, and I’m still looking. I have, like, no friends outside of work.”

“What about your blond friend?”

“He’s a work friend, that doesn't count.” You teased, and he turned to look at you again.

“Do you hang out outside of work?” You paused, thinking on the people who were filling the waiting room right now, simply to support you, and you wondered if that counted, but the boy seemed to be going on anyway; “See, outside friends.”

“Alright, smart ass, the point is that I understand how you feel, and you should let me call your parents, so that you can have people who love you here with you. What do you say?” He was quiet, the moment dragging on, and as the cogs in the clock ticked loudly, the ‘second’ hand moving around, and as the third minute of silence passed you by, you gave up on any hope, You wondered if he’d fallen asleep, his eyes having slipped shut, and you squeezed his hand a little, his hand squeezing back after a few moments, signalling he was awake.

“Edge.”

“Huh?” You perked up a little, your elbow having been resting on the bed to support your head on your fist, before you were moving to look up at him.

“My name is Aaron Edge. I’m already in the system, I had asthma as a kid.” You cheered a little, reaching around for the handle instantly and pressing the button for the nurse’s desk.

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo.” The door opened a second later, a short red-head nurse escorting Doctor Hale, his brows raising a little as they came in, and you gave him a subtle nod. “This is Aaron Edge, and he’d love some painkillers now.”

“We’ll get that sorted out. This is nurse Martin, she’ll be looking after you, Mr Edge.” She left the room a second later, heading away to get it sorted out, and the doctor took a step closer to the bed. “How are you feeling, big guy? You gave us a scare there, but you're brave, and I know you’re going to be just fine.”

“I have a headache, and I feel itchy. Is that just my nerves?”

He tried to push himself up a little in the bed, his arms giving way under the pressure, and you moved, helping him sit up so you could position his pillows behind him to help him sit up. “Well, actually, that’s the beginning of the withdrawal. It’s not going to be great, but you’re young. We can get you in a great rehab program, and whatever you were on we can get you off. You’re young, you still have prospects ahead of you. It’ll be a tough road, you think you can do it?”

His hand tightened around yours once again, and he turned, vulnerability written on his face. You gave him a nod, and he stared at you for a second longer, before returning to give those same gestures to the doctor.

“Now, I just need to run a final test, alright?” Producing the pen from his pocket, he lifted up the blanket to reveal both of the boy’s feet, and held the end to the pen, never popping the button to reveal the inked tip. “Relax your foot for me.”

He did so and he dragged the tip of the pen up along the sensitive underfoot, everything still for a second, before his toes twitched, and you let out a little cheer, the boy in the bed jumping in shock. “What?”

“You still have movement in that foot?”

“Did I not before?” He panicked, sitting up further to peer down at his legs, and it seemed that in his drowsy state, he was only just becoming aware of the cast wrapped around his leg. “What about the other one?”

The cast sealed over most of his foot, but Derek reached down with the pen, dragging it along the space under his toes, and there was no movement. He did it again, still no reaction, and you nibbled on your lower lip. “Tell me when you feel something?”

Moving the blanket from his body, his leg was exposed, the cast ending just below his knee. He poked at the knee cap, then a rough inch further up, moving in inch segments as you waited, before his leg finally flinched just after the pen pressed over his mid-thigh.

“Well, we can get you into some physical therapy, and see how the healing of your leg goes, and what happens after that.”

Tucking the pen back away, the red-headed nurse entered the room once again, a needle and a small glass jar in her hand, and she was ready to add some medicine to the bag for him. “I’ve called your family, and they’re on their way. I’ve got some medicine for you now.” You squeezed his hand again lightly, letting go as the nurse moved to start setting him up a new line for his medicine, and Derek was busy filling out details on the chart that sat at the end of his bed.

“I’m going to go back to my team now, alright?” The kid turned to look at you, nodding his head slowly. “You keep your promise this time, alright? I believe in you, do it for your little sister. Be better.”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

You ran your hand over his cheek, giving him a gentle smile. As the medicine began to kick in, nurse Martin began to talk to Aaron about his family, and what had been said on the phone, and for the third time tonight, you were navigating the ICU wing halls. Stepping back into the waiting room, all eyes turned to you again, brows raising, and you nodded, shoulders slumping in relief.

“He’s going to be okay, and his family is on the way.”

A chorus of cheers took up around the room, and you nodded your head watching as they all began to get to their feet, coming over to offer their congratulations and comforts about how worried you’d been, and how much better you must be feeling, which was completely true.

Newt cupped your face, pressing a large and wet kiss to your forehead, and you scowled, wiping the mark on your skin. “I think you need a drink, love.”

“Kenny’s Bar?” Gally offered, and a series of acknowledgements and agreements going up around the room. You’d heard them talking about that bar before, it seemed to be a house favourite but you’d never been along with them before, and it felt like some kind of initiation ritual or rite of passage.

“You should go and change first. Get comfy, I’ll wait for you.”

“Actually, if you guys go on ahead, I’ll wait.” Thomas stood to the side, scratching at the back of his neck as he met your eye, shrugging a little before looking around the small group gathered around you, who seemed equally as shocked as you were. “Seriously, I mean it. We have some things to talk about.”

“We do?” You questioned dumbly, and he fixed you with a pointed look, before you nodded your head. “Right, sure, yeah, okay. I can work with that, I guess. I mean, if you don’t see me in the next twelve hours, you know who I was with last.”

“Uh-huh.” Newt eyes his friend sceptically, the two seeming to have a silent conversation all with that eye contact, before Newt was rounding everyone up. “Go get changed, don’t take too long, we’ll see you soon.”

He hugged you gently, before guiding the rest of the team out of the building, pats on your arm and squeezes of your hand as they all passed by and discussed who would be designated drivers and drop everyone else at home, each discussing driving their cars home and coming along to collect them as they went. You waved Newt’s bag at Thomas a little, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder, and he nodded his head, tension forming between you both as you slipped away to find the bathrooms.

You were already learning your way around the halls of this building well, locating them easily enough, and stepping inside. Pulling out the contents of the beg, you sealed yourself inside one of the cubicles, putting the lid down and taking a seat on top of it. Toeing off your shoes and leaving them on the floor, you were wiggling out of your crisp uniform trousers, slipping into your leggings, bouncing as you tugged them up your legs and wiggling as you got comfortable. With some simple sneakers and your hoodie on, you were feeling much more relaxed and comfortable.

Stuffing everything else inside of the bag, you zipped it up, heading back to the waiting room, and finding Thomas with his hands shoved into his pockets, your bag on his shoulder, and he offered you what looked only mildly like a forced smile as you made your presence known.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He nodded his head, letting you go through the door first as you stepped into the halls and back towards the elevator, total silence sitting in the space between you both. As he pressed the button, it was almost immediately ready for you, and you stood on opposite sides of the box as you waited for the doors to close again and sink back to the lobby. “So is this the part where you decide the hatred is too much, and actually kill me?”

He laughed, a lightweight and short, but genuine, laugh. Looking up to you, he shook his head a little, amusement still sparking in his eyes. “I don’t hate you. I mean, I don’t necessarily like you, but that's because I don’t know you, and I didn’t really give myself the chance. We got off on the wrong foot, and that's partially my fault.”

“It’s mostly your fault.”

“It’s, like, fifty percent my fault!” He argued, and you clicked your tongue, shaking your head.

“Ninety.”

“Seventy-five.”

“Fine.” You huffed, surrendering to the deal again, and he gave a toothy grin. “Go on with what you were saying.”

The doors chimed as they opened up, and you fell into step beside him as the two of you began to head towards the doors to the building, letting him guide you as he headed towards his car, trying to form his words, and you waited patiently. “Look, the point is, I know you’ve been a good partner to Newt. Especially today. You went down there to look after that kid because you knew Newt couldn't take it, and while he’d never admit that to either of us, we both know it’s true.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We flipped a coin, and I lost.”

“Do you always flip winning sides over to take a loss?” He questioned, clicking his keys as the sleek black car came into view, and your face flushed with warmth, not having known anyone else had seen that. “Exactly my point. I know I’ve given you a hard time. I have my reasons, okay? It fucking sucks, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you understand, maybe you don’t, but I’m trying to apologise, okay?”

He held the door open for you, the passenger seat readily available, and you dropped your bag into the footwell, standing in the way but not taking a seat as you stared up at him. “Okay. I forgive you. I probably shouldn't have been so uptight, but I was hurt too, and I didn’t take that well, so I guess this is me apologising as well.”

“So, we’re cool, now?”

“Sure.”

He nodded, the two of you staring at each other for a moment longer, and that same dreadfully awkward tension settled over the part of you as neither of you knew quite what to say. Just because you’d called a ceasefire, didn’t mean that there was a sudden connection, it didn't mean that pain and resentment were gone immediately, it just meant that you had agreed to process and move on from it together, instead of dwelling and letting it fester. “Her name was Teresa.”

“What?”

Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he was staring at the ground, arms resting on top of the door, and he was picking at his nails. “The last paramedic, the reason I was so mad.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“I owe you an explanation, so I guess I’m forcing myself to.” He sighed, running a hand through already messy hair. “She was.. a wildcard. Passionate and funny and just this real source of energy, you know? Kinda’ like you. She skipped out on us all of a sudden before shift one day, a better offer somewhere else, she didn’t tell us, but she just up and left. I was hurt, I thought I meant something to her.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas..”

“No, I am. Because all my suffering was emotional. She was Newt’s partner, he had to try and handle a case on his own because we couldn't get a replacement in before a call came, and that's the day he injured his leg. He fell through a couple of burning floors, top to bottom of the building, shattered his leg like that kid. Nobody knew where he was, he had no partner to call it in. Minho found him, unconscious from smoke inhalation and carried him out.” He let out a shaky breath, and you dared to reach out, placing a hand over his as they sat joined, and squeezing lightly. “I don’t blame myself for the accident, it had nothing to do with me. But, for whatever your own reasons are, I know you’ve jumped between houses a lot, and I was worried about Newt again. He’s my best friend.”

“I promise you, I won’t ever do that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think Teresa would either, but then a better offer came along.” He sighed, lifting a thumb to rest over one of your fingers and stroke lightly as he sought his one comfort from your touch, and you squeezed his hands once again. “I shouldn't have compared you to her, and I’m sorry. It was unfair, I don’t even know you.”

Quit consumed you both once again, and there was nothing else to be said, only the weight of his confession hanging in the air, before you were perking up a little, realising how to gently move on and bring his mood back up. “You any good at pool?”

“Uh, what?”

“You know, pool. In bars. Does this bar have one?” You encouraged, his eyes meeting yours again and brows furrowing with confusion.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Well, you said you didn’t know anything about me. First thing to learn is that I’m amazing at pool.” He stood up a little more, smiling softly as he took your bait to move on from the conversation, and there was a slight twinkle of mischief in those honey-brown eyes. “Winner buys drinks?”

“Alright, I’ll take that deal, but only if we play darts afterwards. At which I will kick your ass, because I am fucking great at it.”

“You’re on, Thomas.” He chuckled, letting you step into the car and shutting the door behind you, the conversation being stored away for now, to think about when you were alone and process the details, but for now, you had bonding to do, with your teammates; for the first time yet, you genuinely considered the possibility of setting up roots somewhere, and making real friends that would last.

#thomas #firefighter!tommy #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #smoke and fire #SAF #tommy month #tomuary #tom-uary #thomas the maze runner #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader smut #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Text

I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but this goes out for everyone who might need some encouragment or motivation. Maybe you need it, maybe you don’t and that’s okay! It’s always here for you if you do. Also, happy August 1!!! One more month until fall season and this stupid, ridiculous hot weather can be gone!!

~~~

Today’s a new day, y’all. Everyday is a new day to start over and become fresh again. Remind yourself, what if this is the last day I got? Make the best of today as if it were your last. Do things you love that make you make you happy and calm whether that’d be writing, reading, exercising, drawing, whatever it is. Do it. Don’t listen to people who tell you not to or to tell you can’t do it. Everyone on here is special in their own way and that I am here to have your back each day. You all are extremely talented in your own ways and have special gifts no one else has. The biggest takeaway I have learned myself over the past year, is to never give up. Yes, we’ve all heard that phrase before, but I’m serious. Never, ever give up. Just keep going and pushing like your climbing a moutain to reach your goal. You’re a boss, you are unstoppable. Nothing can stop you.

As a person who struggles with mental health such has body dysmorphia, intrusive thoughts, high anxiety and mild depression along with too many disabilities to count, I understand how it feels. I understand how it feels to be left out sometimes because you don’t understand the things other people do. But this? This won’t stop me from reaching my goals and accomplishing my ambitions. I have scoliosois and that hasn’t stopped me from passion for dancing and fitness in general. I have scoliosis and I can lift a barebell and it doesn’t hurt a bit. I have socliosis and I can do flips and splits and spins and it won’t bother me at all. Scoliosis and having DiGeorge Syndrome won’t stop me from doing what I love. And whatever you have going on personally, mentally, or physically shouldn’t stop you from doing what you love most too.

A couple of things I have learned from the Rock himself, my biggest motivator and inspiration, over the past year:

“What’s the key to success? There is no key. Be humble, be hungry, and always be the hardest worker in the room.” This grately motivates me to be a hard worker, never stop working. Work harder than anyone else you’re around with. Be their inspiration.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from the Rock: “One should never settle for anything that hurts their self-respect.” Meaning, you have to become that person who has enough boldness and confidence to tell others to shut their mouths when they are foul-mouthing behind your back.

To feel successful, you got to be determined. As cliché as it sounds, always believe in yourself. Push yourself higher, climb that mountain and get that star.

Put aside small stuff that will bother you or annoy you or one that will create hindrances and become focused and determined in yourself and success will come your way.

Be consistent. Without consistency you can easily fall off that mountain. If you are committed to complete a task, give it your all into achieving it. As I’ve said, nothing can stop you.

~A couple of tips that have helped me mentally~

Of course everyone is different. Everyone has a different taste. But these are what helped my mental health. Of course, I am still struggling with battling it but it’s every now and then.

1) Create a routine. For morning and evening.

I am still struggling on the evening part. But basically my mornings are this:

3:45 - Wake up and get up make the bed and get dressed instantly.

3:50- practice gratitude (just by listing 3 things your grateful for each day can have a huge impact) and journal (getting your thoughts down onto paper can help you become more clearer in mind and calmer.)

4:00- Yoga. (I do yoga every day or try too. It’s good for you both mentally and physically and is especially helpful for my back. And sets my day right)

4:10-4:30-4:45 : Read. This is the time where I’ll usually read a chapter or two of a book to get my mind working and ready to write.

5:00- I’m at my desk, working until breakfast around 6:30 to 7.

2) No socials until a certain time.

I don’t use any social media until 8:00 in the morning. This helps me a lot. As I can focus on myself and my priorites and not spend the first hours in the morning scrolling through socials and wasting time. So, I’d suggest picking a certain time that works for you and give those hours before hand to yourself.

3) Excercise

I know I say this so many times before, but excerising has so many benefits than just weight loss. Especially with mental health. When you exercise, your brain releases something called endorphins which are the chemicals in your brain that make you feel happy. That is partially why I love it. Excercising isn’t expensive. You don’t have to have a gym membership to be able to move around. It can be simple as going on a short walk or a 30 minute dance break or even a 10 minute at home workout video. It doesn’t have to be difficult or hard, change it up, have fun with it! Be creative! Learn a different form or try a new one. It can also help release stress and anger or frustration in a healhy way. I love doing boxing/punching moves. I imagine whatever has annoyed me and pretend it’s right in front of me and bam! Punch it out of the way! Though, I must admit, my favorite exercise to do is a plank. Any plank.

4) Do things you love

Do things that you love to do. Do things that bring you joy and happiness and make you feel confident in yourself. It can be anything! Whether that’d be dressing up, or writing or working on your WIP, or drawing, or dancing or whatever is. Have fun and do it!

5) Listen to your body.

This is extremely important. Don’t ignore what your body wants or needs. If it says it’s tired and it needs to rest, allow it! If it says it’s hungry or it’s thirsty, give it fuel! If it says it needs a break from the screen and do something physical, do it! Listen to your body.

6) It’s okay to ask for help.

I used to struggle with this a lot when I was in high school or in school in general. I would always keep thoughts and questions to myself and try to do it my own and, let’s be honest here, I even got scolded at a couple of times for not asking for help. So please, if you ever need help with anything, my DMs and ask box are always open. Not everything can get accomplished on it’s own. You might just need a couple of pair of hands.

7) Read

Reading a book also has many benefits as to stress-relief and improving vocabulary. It can help generate ideas for your WIP or a story you want to create. It can also help you forget things in which has bothered you or frustrated you as you can get lost into the fictional world. One of my favorites.

8) Practice a new skill.

Find something you’ve always wanted to try to do and give it a go! For example, I’ve recently learned how to make and edit videos.

9) Spend time with family

Take a break from the socials and the online life and go spend time with your family. Play a game or watch a film or tv show together or go to the store or on a family walk or play with your dogs outside or whatever it is! Make sure you take time out of your day to spend with your family. Even if they are jerks sometimes.

10) Take time for yourself, practice self-care.

Self-care is extremely important. Take a day where you don’t get on socials and focus on you. For me it’s Saturday. Saturdays are when I spend time mainly working on my WIP and not on socials and just overall taking care of yourself mentally, physically, mindfully, and spirtually and just relax. Then on Sundays, it’s back on the grind. You can also look up some videos on YouTube to help create ideas.

~~~

Hope these help y’all for those who need it. If any of you ever need anything, advice, questions, encouragment, etc. my DMs and ask box are always open! But these are mainly what I have learned over the past few years and based on my own expeirence. Of course, as I’ve said previously, everyone is different! Feel free to reblog if you wish!

#encouragment #inspiration #motivation #tips #mental health #mental health tips #hope this helps yall #this took me way to long to make for no reason #but this is mainly based on what I have discovered and learned over the past years #i always have y'alls back!#i sound so professional lmao #this sounds more like an essay lol #but no i am always here if you ever need anything

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Adrenaline Rush

Kozik x OFC

Request by Anon: Hulloo there, may I get a sort of all sons x female reader, but mainly Kozik x female reader, where the clubhouse gets hit, and one of the guys gets hit - and they need something to stop the blood flow, so reader takes off her shirt to reveal her sports bra and ripped abs so that the wound can be attended while they wait for Tara, and the boys are like - damn, and when reader goes to get another shirt, Kozik follows and some form of smut ensues?

Warnings: language, blood, injuries, unprotected sex, brief mentions of bodily fluids

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I didn’t do a reader insert for this because I try not to describe and particular kind of body-type for the sake of inclusivity. I know I never really made a point to mention that explicitly, but yea. So I just switched it up and changed it to an OFC, hope that’s okay! This was also my first time writing for Kozik, so hopefully it came out alright! Enjoy xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

The clubhouse was nothing but chaos. It had never been a place associated with calm, but with everything that the MC had been getting themselves into lately it had been a bit more of a hotbed than usual. It all came to a head when a rival MC rolled up and opened fire on the clubhouse one night.

The gunshots were deafening, and bullets were flying everywhere. Before she even fully registered what was happening, she was getting shoved to the floor, pinned underneath someone else’s body in an attempt to keep her safe. Her head smacked off the hardwood and everything went fuzzy for a minute, but there was so much going on that she wasn’t sure that she would’ve been able to keep up with it anyhow.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. It could’ve been seconds or hours that she was trapped underneath the weight of another body. The first thing that felt clear to her, though, was the loss of the weight on top of her when they rolled off. They crouched down next to her in the silence that followed the bullets, shaking her shoulder.

“Alli? Hey, Alessia,” they lightly tapped the side of her face, “You with me?”

She knew the voice sounded familiar but her brain still felt too scrambled to place it as she forced herself up, nodding her head as she tried to regain her bearings, “I’m here.”

She shut her eyes tight for a few moments before reopening them, hoping that it would make things come in a little clearer. She was rewarded with being able to see who it was that had tackled her to the ground, most likely saving her life in the process. One end of his mouth kicked up in a smile when she looked at him, glad that she was conscious and seemingly unscathed, but she could still see the concern pooling in his eyes.

“You okay?”

She nodded, “I’m good. Fine. You?”

“I’m fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t break you.”

He stood up and held his hand out and pulled her up to her feet. She stumbled a step and collided with his chest. In a calmer moment they might’ve let it linger, but there was too much to think about. She stepped back and shook it off as she looked around the clubhouse.

“We whole?” she glanced over at Kozik.

“I don’t—”

“No!” Jax’s voice cut through the rest of the dull noise of the clubhouse.

Alessia and Kozik glanced at each other for a moment before quickly making their way over to the chapel. They both looked at Jax as they walked, seeing the way that he was clinging to his own arm, face contorted in pain. He saw their looks of concern and shook his head, nodding towards the table. They pushed their through the small crowd of people and were met with the sigh of Juice laying on the table, blood gushing from his leg.

“You call Tara?” Alessia glanced back over at Jax.

He nodded, “She’s on her way.”

“Fuck,” Juice groaned, writhing in pain on the table.

“Stop moving,” Alessia’s voice was firm as she tried to get her thoughts in order.

She was no Tara—she didn’t have any kind of medical degree or professional training. But she’d been around the MC long enough to pick up some practical first aid. She’d MacGyver’d her way through more than a few injuries for herself and for the members of the club. She just had to figure out how to keep him alive until Tara could get there to do the heavy lifting. He was losing blood fast and she was just hoping that the bullet didn’t hit an artery.

“Shit,” she pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, “Alright.”

She peeled her tank top off over her head and folded it into a long, thin rectangle, her fingers moving quickly and methodically. All of her focus was on the task at hand. She didn’t even realize that she’d drawn the attention of more than a few hungry, wandering eyes as she stood there in her sports bra and jeans.

She glanced over at Kozik, “Belt.”

He’d been too busy staring at her, allowing his eyes to rake over her chest and abs to hear what she’d said, “Wh-what?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the buckle, “Your belt. Now. Please.”

Her voice had so much authority to it that he instantly started undoing his belt without questioning it. He had no idea what she would need it for, but at that point he really didn’t care. He slid it out of the loops of his jeans and handed it over to her. She laid her shirt over the wound, pressing down hard on it to give it some pressure. Juice tensed up and cursed loudly. Her apology was passive as she slid the belt around his thigh.

“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better,” she warned him as she got ready to pull the belt tight, “But it’s better than bleeding out in church, yea?”

Juice nodded, already clenching his fists in anticipation, “Yea. Just…just do it.”

They each took a deep breath. Her eyes were on his legs and his eyes were on her. She pulled on the leather strap, tightening it as best she could around his thigh. Juice clenched his jaw tight and did his best to stifle the groan of pain that was fighting to escape past his lips. There were a few moments of utter silence as they all waited to see if her makeshift solution was going to staunch the blood flow at all, let alone enough to buy enough time for Tara to come in and do damage control.

Her split-second decision-making paid off. The blood stopped flowing. It wasn’t going to be a long-term fix, but she figured that Tara couldn’t be far at this point. She looked over the rest of his body, making sure that nothing else needed to be taken care of. He looked a little pale, and extremely tired.

“Need anything else?” she asked.

Juice shook his head, resting it back on the table, “Just a fucking doctor.”

She chuckled, “We’re working on it,” she sighed, running her hands down her face, “You owe me a shirt and I’m about to collect,” she smiled, “Consider it your medical bill.”

“Done,” despite the pain shooting through him, Juice managed a laugh, “Top drawer in my dorm.”

“You’re a gem, Juicy,” she called back as she walked out of chapel towards the dorms.

The men all watched her walk away. It took him a few moments to snap back to reality, but once he did Kozik was hot on her heels. He caught up to her in a few long strides as she was about to push Juice’s door open. She heard him behind her but didn’t say anything, mind still reeling from everything the day had already entailed.

“That was, um, impressive,” he said as you started to walk over to Juice’s dresser.

“We do what we gotta do, right?”

“Right.”

She turned around to face him once she had found a shirt that she wanted to take as her own. Surprise was written all over her face when she saw the way that Kozik was looking at her. She felt the heat beginning to rise in her face, but she tried not to let it show that his stare was getting to her. Despite the fact that he was looking at her with nothing but admiration, Alessia found herself wanting to quickly pull her fresh shirt down over her head to cover herself up.

When she went to lift it up, though, he stepped in to stop her. He pushed the shirt down, taking it in his own hands, “Don’t.”

She watched him as he discarded the shirt, tossing it over onto Juice’s bed. Once his hands were free, they instantly found their way to her sides, running all over her exposed skin as he pulled her closer to him. She wanted to blame the fact that she wasn’t playing hard to get on the adrenaline of the day, and the fact that he had definitely saved her life only a few minutes before. But she knew in the back of her mind that this had been building for a while. There was a reason that he jumped to make sure she was okay before anyone else.

Before she could overthink it, she put her hands on the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He immediately pushed and leaned into her, hands roaming all over her, grabbing whatever he could hold onto. She bit down on his bottom lip and he let out a low moan as his mouth continued to move against hers. Her hands snaked up into his hair and gave it a light tug.

He quickly wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. With ease he carried her over towards the bed, not taking his lips off of hers.

Just as he was about to lay her down, she pulled away from him, “In here?”

“What?” he smirked, “Not like he’s going to be using it anytime soon.”

She laughed, “C’mon, he almost died today. Don’t need to disrespect his room, too.”

“You saved his life! Least he could do to repay you,” he laughed as he kissed along her neck.

She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She shook her head slightly but didn’t protest any further as she let him gently lay her down on the bed. He made quick work of pulling off her shoes and jeans. She couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face as he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over her. His lips crashed back into hers as his hands ran down the toned lines of her stomach, making her shiver.

Alessia reached down and undid the button and zipper on his pants. She could feel the rumble inside his chest as he tried to contain the laugh building up inside him. He pulled his lips off of hers to push his pants down the rest of the way, a smirk etched into his expression. He peeled his shirt off as well and threw it to the floor.

She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him as close as he would let her. He kissed her, biting down onto her bottom lip as he slowly slid inside her. She tried to stifle her moans but it wasn’t any use. Her legs shook and trembled and she knew that it was no longer just from the adrenaline of the day.

His fingertips dug into her thighs as he thrusted into her. She tilted her head back, letting out a moan, and he took that moment to bite down on the soft, sensitive skin of her neck. She tangled her fingers into his hair and held him there, not wanting to give up the sensation.

“Fuck,” she breathed, “Don’t stop.”

Stopping was the absolute last thing on his mind. He felt the way that her nails set into his back, the way that her body tensed around him, and it only encouraged him to keep going. He increased his pace and let out a low moan as her nails raked down his back. She bit down onto his shoulder, attempting to muffle her screams as she came. His nails dug into her sides as he felt him bite down onto him. It sent a brief jolt of pain through him but he loved it. He cursed quietly under his breath as he approached his own release, pulling out of her right before he did so.

He collapsed next to her on the bed, looking over at her as they both attempted to catch their breath. She glanced over at him and when her eyes caught his, they both couldn’t help but to break into laughter. She ran her hands down her face, wiping away the sweat. Kozik carefully got up and went to grab his boxers and jeans.

“Let me get something to for you to clean yourself up with,” he chuckled as he glanced around the room.

“Time for you to give up your shirt for the cause, Kozik,” she laughed as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“What? No, Alli, c’mon, please,” he laughed as he picked his shirt up off the floor, “Don’t do this.”

She held her hand out, “Hand it over. Time to pay your dues,” she laughed as he threw the shirt at her, “Besides, you’ve got other clothes here anyway. What’s the big deal?”

She threw it back at him after she had wiped herself off, shaking her head with a smile as he dodged it, carefully choosing where to pick it up off the ground from. She set about getting her underwear and jeans back on, and finally pulling on the shirt that she had decided to borrow from Juice.

The two of them stood in the middle of Juice’s room. Alessia was redoing her pony tail, and Kozik couldn’t help but to stand there and watch with admiration. She could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eye and made a point to not comment on it.

“Y’know,” she looked at herself in the mirror with a chuckle, “I might be onto something here. I look good in Juice’s clothes.”

Kozik laughed and shook his head, “You look better than he does, for sure.”

The two of them slowly made their way out of the room. They looked at each other for a moment, each with a small smile on their face, before heading off in different directions. Alessia made her way back towards the chapel to see if there was anything else to be done, or if Tara had shown up yet, and Kozik headed back towards his own space to get himself a fresh shirt. As she walked away, she could feel his fingers trace lightly along her lower back for a moment before she had stepped out of reach. She shook her head slightly and tried to contain her smile as she headed back into the chaos.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik x oc #herman kozik x oc #my writing #fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #drabblesmc

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

I’ve read some of your posts and I love the detail and effort you put in them 😌. May I request prompt 40 for Uvo from hxh?

I appreciate it. Always give my all whilst writing stuff. It’s my first time writing for Uvogin.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, self harm

Prompt 40: “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.”

He hadn’t come to look after you for quite some time now. You guessed the tantrum you had thrown after he had tried to come near you had taught him to leave you alone. You had cried, sobbed and screamed at him to stay away, to at least give you some space to breathe after he had already taken you. And he did. He had looked incredibly hurt whilst you had yelled at him, but in the end he had silently left the room. And you were thankful for this. Thankful for knowing that not all you had thought to know about him wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t pretended to be a huge softie for you. That made you feel to some degree comforted, but it didn’t change the fact that he had hidden such a big secret from you. You knew that he had done it to protect you and to not make you feel scared of him. But that had only made the truth hit you so much harder when you had found out. He was a spider. A part of the infamous Phantom Troupe. He was a criminal who robbed, killed and did whatever he wanted to. And in all honesty, you wished you had never found out. Wished you had just chosen to stay in the house that night. Wished that you had taken a different route to the shop you had headed to that night. Wished you hadn’t seen what you had seen that night. But you had. Had seen who he really was, had seen what he was capable off, had seen that everything you had ever thought about him had been lie. Oh, how you wished you could turn back time and go back to your sweet illusion of lies you had once had of him. Because the truth hurt. It hurt so much, making you feel like someone was puncturing a blade over and over again in your chest.

And the worst part about this all? You couldn’t even hate him like you should. You had tried to hate him, tried to be angry at him. But you just weren’t able to hate him. He had made himself a too important spot in your heart. And every time you had tried to remove him, to rip him out of there you had felt like losing a huge part of yourself. How fatal attachments could be. For the most part you were just sad, disappointed, upset and felt betrayed. It was so silent in the room, yet so loud in your head. You wanted it to stop. The silence was too loud for you, too much to handle. You burried your head tightly in the pillow, feeling the damp fabric of it, a reminder of how many tears you had spilled for him in such a short time. A reminder of how much he meant for you. Was he feeling the same as you were right now? Had he ever felt bad for lying to you? Or had he done that with many others before? Leading them to believe that he loved them? Would he be capable of doing that? Your head told you yes because the Phantom Troupe was capable of everything. But your stupid heart, controlled by your overwhelmed feelings told you the opposite. He had been sincere with his every action and words, had proved to you that he really loved you. And you found yourself being scared at the thought that this all could have been an act. If it really should be then you were sure you would probably never be able to trust someone again.

How long had you now layed in this bed, bathing inside your tears and misery? Was there a clock? Did you want to find out how much of an impact this all had on you? No, you didn’t. Not knowing was a blessing, now more than ever. But you also knew that you needed to get out of the room. You needed to go somewhere where you would be able to entertain yourself a bit. Somewhere where you could get your mind off. And all of this whilst not walking into him. The last thing you needed was a new layer of heartbreak over your only few days old one. You felt like you would burst once again out in tears if you would see him. It was fascinating how much tears a human could spill. Your eyes still burned and itched from your last crying session. You didn’t want to know how you must have looked right now. But back to your plan, getting your mind a bit off. As soon as you stood on your two legs the first thing you did was stumbling back. Your legs felt like jelly. You guessed that this happened when you didn’t eat enough. But in comparison to your pain of finding out the truth your aching tummy felt numb. And yet you didn’t feel hungry at all, not thinking in your current state you could handle too much food at once in your stomach. You didn’t think it would stay in there for too long anyways. You had more important things to do than giving the growing hole inside your belly or much thoughts right now.

You slowly opened your door and peeked through the small slit. You didn’t see him. Where was he? What was he doing? You couldn’t help, but feel a bit curious. But you couldn’t satisfy your curiosity for the sake of your own well-being. A short trip to the bathroom would do for now. You slowly made your way towards it, careful to not make too much noise whilst heading to the bathroom. And as soon as you reached it you quickly closed the door and locked it, leaning against the wood and staring at the white ceiling. Good, you had reached it. What now? You hadn’t thought that far. You had only wanted to get out of this suffocating room. The bathroom with it’s white walls looked so blank. How you wished your mind could be just as blank as it. Your mind and your senses tried so desperately to find something to distract you that you noticed even the smallest and most insignificant things. The faint flickering of the lamp every few seconds, the smell of soap that was hanging in the air and even the silent sound of water in the walls. Distant, but still there. And you had never noticed how calming those small things could be, how much peace they could give a person. Why was that? Was it because these were things that didn’t change? Things that stayed the same? You didn’t know and didn’t care, only caring for the fact that they helped you calming down a bit. You were in a state of much more awareness than usually, feeling your own heartbeat drumming like a jackhammer against your chest and your breaths filling your lungs to the brim with air and then emptying it all out.

After a few minutes of just emptying your mind a bit out you decided to wash your face, wanting to wash all the traces of tears and snot away. The cold water against your skin felt oddly refreshing and helped washing a bit from the heaviness and tiredness out of your eyes, alleviating the burning itching. You let a small content sigh out. Such an easy thing, a daily trip to the bathroom, had helped you so surprisingly much. When you looked up you couldn’t help it, glancing shortly at the mirror right in front of you. You weren’t really surprised by how you looked like. Just as horrible as you had expected. Your eyes were red and swollen and you even saw light red trails on your cheeks due to all the tears you had cried. Your hair was disheveled and you had dark bags under your eyes. Just as horrible as you had expected. You stared for a moment or two just at your reflection before turning around and leaving the room, feeling a bit better now. Still not fine, you doubted you would ever be. But much more calmer. It was already very dark. And you decided that you would now do the only thing that always helped you forgetting everything for a while. Sleeping. But just as you passed the stairs that led downstairs you suddenly perked up, head slowly turning towards the stairs. What was that? You were sure you had just heard something. Was Uvo downstairs? You focused all your energy on your sense of hearing, trying to detect that noise once again.

There it was! You heard it once again. Sounded it like came from the kitchen. You tried to identify what exactly it was, finding your body stepping down the first few stairs to hear it better. But it was still too faint, forcing you to take a few more steps. And more and more and more until you found yourself at the end of the stairs. The door to the kitchen was in your field of view, the light shining under it’s gap telling you clearly that Uvogin was in there. You shouldn’t be here. You should lay in your bed and try to forget all about him. And yet...And yet you slowly tiptoed closer, feeling to your huge dislike worry bubbling up inside of you. You shouldn’t be interested or even worried about him. So why? You stared with mixed emotions in your eyes at the door, pressing your lips together. What if he would sense you? No. What if he had already sensed you? You stood there, waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened. If he had sensed you then he had decided to ignore you. So you slowly leaned in closer, pressing your ear against the door in a more or less pathetic attempt to try to find out what was going on behind this door. You heard the muffled sounds much more clearer now, but still not audible enough to detect what it was. You felt slightly frustrated, squinting your eyes together to focus better.

And that’s when you finally had an idea about what it was. Your eyes widened and you stepped quickly away from the door, unsure about how to feel about this. Was he...crying? You found your heart clenching at the thought of it. Uvo was always such a cheerful and positive man. But you were sure that you had heard him sobbing behind this door. But why? Because of you? Had your act earlier this day hurt him really that much? Had you been too harsh, went overboard? In your opinion you had reacted like every human would have when finding out that their boyfriend was a criminal. Who wouldn’t lose it then? But perhaps you could have tried to make the effort to listen to him. Perhaps you could have stopped yelling and screaming at him. Why were you still so carrying for him? After all he had done? After all the life’s he had taken? Why? You knew why. Because he had always been there for you too. Whenever you had been stressed out, had been upset about something he had been your shoulder to cry on. He had listened to you, had comforted you and had always brought you gifts to cheer you up. It didn’t feel right to let him be sad now. Not after all he had done. You didn’t do it because you loved him. No, you did it because it would be only fair to comfort him for once too. That’s at least what you tried to tell him. In reality you started to feel hella guilty for acting like such a brat. He could have killed you or broken your bones if he had wanted too. But instead he had just brought you in here, not forcing or pushing you to anything.

You took one final breath before knocking lightly on the door. The noises behind the wood stopped abruptly. You waited for a few seconds, wanting to know if he wanted you to see him in such a state or not. Nothing came and you took it as a sign that he didn’t have anything against you coming in. So you slowly cracked the door open, peeking inside the room. It was hard to overlook him, his tall build was an eye catcher. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with his head hanging low. It was a very strong contrast. This position just screamed weak. He looked so vulnerable right now. That definitely increased your worry. You stood there unsure about what to do for a short moment before you slowly stepped closer to him, gazing over his hunched over form. “Uvo?” Your voice sounded very hushed and gentle. You just couldn’t help, but speak more softly to him. He had always done it when you had been crying. He didn’t react. He seemed to try to make himself even smaller which was hard given his height. Oh god. You felt guilt crushing you, telling you that it was your fault that he was like this. You stopped when you were a few feet away from him, your thoughts stumbling over each other. You really wanted to help him, do something. But a small part still held you back, screaming at you that this was a criminal who could crush you at any moment. And that’s when you suddenly noticed something. His one arm...

“W-what are you doing? Y-your arm...It’s broken. So why...?” You just stared shocked at him. It was hard to see due to him being hunched over. But you were sure that he was pressing with his other hand against his broken arm which was twisted in a abnormal way. But if his arm was really broken then why hurting it even more? “What I am doing?” His voice sounded strained, the pain audible in his voice. “I’m punishing myself.” You paled when hearing this. He was punishing himself? “W-why would you do that?” Your voice was shaking, terrified with what you were seeing and hearing. He let out a half-hearted and half-pained chuckle out, sounding almost amused. As if thinking that it would be obvious to why he was doing this. “Why?” And that’s when he finally looked up, looking you straight in your eyes. Sweatdrops were visible on his face and he had forced a smile onto his face, trying to mask the pain he was in, but failed miserably. “Because I upset you earlier.” Your mind froze at this, staring with non believing and wide eyes at him. Was he serious?! He-he just broke his arm for the reason because he had upset you earlier?! No,no,NO! This wasn’t what you had wanted! You didn’t want him to suffer like this! At least not because of you. You hated it when people suffered because of you. You preferred suffering yourself than letting others be in pain because of you.

“Stop this.” Your voice was trembling, yet firm. “I-I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You tried your hardest to not cry, forcing the tears collecting in your eyes back. You needed to stay strong. For him. Just like he had always stayed strong for you. Uvogin looked slightly confused up before laughing a bit. “Why do you care? Didn’t you yell at me before that you hated me and wanted me to disappear? Judging from your words I thought you wouldn’t care...” Bitterness and heartbreak was audible in his voice and visible in his eyes, making you feel downright like trash. You hadn’t meant those words. Not a single one of them. But it had just been too much to take for you. Some really small part told you that this was your chance to run, to hurt him, do something. But you didn’t. Because you knew he wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t run after you if you would storm out of this house. He wouldn’t defend himself if you would attack him. He would just...do nothing. You knew him. Uvogin had always looked strong for you, had always come over as your strong protector. But now he displayed weakness. Right in front of your eyes. Why would he do that? To show you that he wasn’t some kind of wild animal that just killed for fun? To show you that he wouldn’t hurt you?

Silence fell over the both of you, he just sitting there and avoiding eye contact whilst you were staring at his form, deeply in thoughts. “I...don’t hate you. You know that, right?” It came out without you thinking really much, just blurting it straight out. That gave you a visible reaction from him. He flinched and darted his eyes at yours, giving you a look of slight confusion, but also hope. And that hope made you feel ticklish on the inside. You knew that you hadn’t lied. You didn’t hate him. You could never. That didn’t mean you could forgive him that easily either. But if the both of you were suffering that much because of this then you two should also start working on it together. Hurting alone was stupid. You stepped to him until you stood right in front of him, grabbing his not broken arm and gently tugging on his hands. “Come on. Stand up. I-I’ll do first aid on your arm.” If there had been ever a doubt in your mind about what you were currently doing was wrong it was blown away to dust the moment you saw the gratitude and relief crossing Uvo’s face, grabbing your,in comparison to his, small hand and stood up, flashing you a smile. A sincere one, filled with warmth and love, making you yourself feel suddenly very warm. You returned his smile gently. And suddenly you felt very confident that the both of you would find a way to make this up.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere uvogin

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hollenka99 · 3 years

Text

Laying Foundations

Summary: The Blood God gets used to caring for a baby and small child who is getting livelier by the year. Chapter 1 of Blood and Feathers. <<Prologue

Warnings: Very brief emeto reference

It is a rather long journey to his Overworld forest cabin from wherever he'd ended up that caused him to be near Phillip's birthplace. The baby, ever so respectfully quiet until now, bawls as soon as the heat of the Nether seems to register. That or he finds portal travel disagreeable. The Blood God is not yet ready to unveil his latest plan. It is half formed and to be honest, he is completely winging it. He wasn't even sure whether he wished to raise his little project here, in his domain where things have always felt a bit... clearer, or in the Overworld, where Phillip is meant to belong, until the Netherdamned child threatened to blow his cover. All he could do to lessen the risk of being spotted is cover Phillip with his cloak and ignore the tiny talons poking at his skin. Besides, if worse came to worst, he could always glare a piglin down into silence. There are very few who are bold enough to trifle with a violence-centric deity, after all. But they do eventually make it. It then hits him that yes, of course, nothing here was left in a suitable condition for raising a child. There is clutter all over the table for one thing. There is also the remains of some meal he must have had prior to leaving the last time. Forgive him for not caring about trivial things such as cleaning up after himself when he's done that thousands of times over his centuries long life. Cleaning is a futile endeavour anyway. You achieve your result, only for it to rapidly be reversed. It will be worse now that he has subjected himself to a child, a form of life unable to comprehend its surroundings required respect, therefore antagonising their environment in their ignorance. That said, he did have three wolves who were capable of causing a mess all on their own. Perhaps, he ponders, he should have asked Celandine to reserve Phillip for a few days as he prepared the place for another being. It will be fine. Phillip is too young to care as it is. After some strife, the house becomes tidier. A pillow and its removed case are placed in a box for lack of better furniture. It will be as good of a bed as Phillip will get while the god fully adjusts his living arrangements. Caring for an infant is... more work than he had been expecting. And he had been anticipating to be kept busy by the kid regardless. During the first night, everything appears to be a problem. He's been fed, changed, paid attention to in general... all of it pointing to the fact Phillip should be content with sleeping. Then ah, the sword swings. Phillip must finally realise he is not going to see his family anymore. Oh well, not much he can do to remedy that. Also, he must say that for such a small stomach, it certainly seems to need filling often. Celandine checks to see how he is faring and offers advice. One such recommendation is to heat the liquid so that it is served warm. However, this occasionally proves to be a disaster as his sense of 'too hot' has been skewed by Nether standards. Phillip never fails to let him know if he's miscalculated. He knows it's irresponsible but a short trip without the baby through the Nether to collect Krev, Valka and Mort won't do much damage. They leap up at him but he hasn't got time to waste with pleasantries. The trio follow him diligently as they pass the statue of the four of them, narrowly avoid a slip into lava because how many lives must I live before you listen when I say be careful and they still remain at his heels when he steps into the portal. The wolves certainly love Phillip at first sight since they barely allow the god to leave the infant's designated room. Easy, he tells them, get your noses away because he's not a plaything and you won't even get to see him if you crowd round like this. The longer they have to get used to each other, the less agitated Phillip tends to be when not in need of care. It is during these calmer moments that they can be found, for example, reading a book 'together'. More to the point, he reads aloud while Phillip tries to grab pages, wriggles in the crook of his arm or the little boy simply stares up at him. Phillip has also become fond of gripping his caregiver's tusks whenever he is carried. It's an odd habit but it isn't painful or particularly uncomfortable so eh, who cares. Being 7 months old when they meet, Phillip is already on the verge of crawling. This is an issue. He gains the ability to be mobile by the time the Blood God is satisfied the cabin is satisfactory for a baby. This soon devolves into a keen eye frequently being kept aimed at the floor. The god wasn't a stranger to watching his step (a trio of wolves seemingly determined to become safety hazards at times will do that to you) but this was even worse. Do you know how miniscule Phillip is compared to him?! And this is the shortest the god can make himself. He is going to accidentally tread on the infant one day if he doesn't remain vigilant, he is sure of it. Winter proves to be a troublesome time. The cold seeps in through the windows whenever there isn't a lit fire to combat it. He despises the season and most years, he is either residing in the Nether anyway or he stays in his large desert home. Well actually, that place of his in the desert tends to be his usual shelter. It's just that humans (and, by extension, avians he supposes) are so fickle when it comes to temperature. They can never be too hot or too cold, for fear of their bodies' ridiculous way of attempting to maintain thermal homeostasis leading to their demises. Babies... are likely the worst culprits of this, along with the elderly. That was why he chose somewhere milder like this forest when it came to Phillip. Celandine has some thoughts on the matter, given that she is unhappy upon her next visit. "You do realise avians are migratory, don't you? It is, after all, partially how you ended up meeting and adopting him. The cold does not suit him." "It does not suit me either. If he is simply cold, I will keep him by the fire." "Keep him warm." She sternly instructs. Perhaps she is right though. He isn't too fond of the lowering temperatures and Phillip's fussiness seems to agree with him. He drafts up rough blueprints for a house, larger than this lowly, isolated cottage but also nothing requiring the time and resources on par with his massive desert villa. Hopefully, with the builders he plans to hire to construct it on his behalf, it will be ready for them this time next year. Which leaves the more pressing issue of what is he going to do for this winter? Well, he supposes there's only one thing for it. Phillip does not find the heat favourable. He spends his days complaining in his own infantile way or being very quiet when struggling with the temperature. Between the age of 9 to 12 months, his style is very much in the minimalist category. Another dilemma the god has is the fact he never exactly need a reason to keep cool here. Therefore, a water source is relatively far away and the coldest spot on the property is the room used to keep food fresh for longer. Phillip shouldn't really be around raw meat but for the sake of lowering the risk of him overheating, he does become familiar with the storage area. However, it's not as if he lives in there. He does get placed outside in the shade with a blanket underneath him every now and again. Babies will taste test any old thing they can get their hands on and there is no better example of this than the way a crawling infant takes fistfuls of the most abundant resource around him to sample. It's the god's duty to supervise in order to prevent sand from becoming unintentionally integrated into Phillip's diet. He notices birds lingering in unusual numbers in the early weeks of the new year. Low enough that perhaps he hasn't cared to notice the true extent of the local bird population before. High enough that he's sure there weren't this many before now. It's February too which makes it even more perplexing. Disappearing to warmer lands is one thing but surely they don't migrate to barren wastelands such as these. Then March 1st arrives and suddenly it all begins to make sense. Celandine could honestly have been less subtle. Any longer and it would have been an infestation. The goddess lands to the cacophony of birds cheering her arrival. Phillip's absent-minded babbling ceases as soon as his brain registers that she has taken him in her arms. She kneels, a baby in one arm while the other is held out as an invitation. She calls out, asking where the subject of her intentions was and summoning it to come to her. A bird with dark feathers makes itself known. It swoops in, perching on the offered limb. It's not a remarkable creature in any way. It has wings, it has eyes, it... presumably breathes. Regardless, it sets its eyes on Phillip from the moment it comes forward. Phillip himself observes the bird with curiosity, even reaching out to it. "Given that you have completed a year of life now, I thought a lifelong friend to keep you company throughout all the other years you're going to see would be a nice gift. She was born last spring, just like you, and she'll stay with you until it's time for you to go. So take good care of each other." The two are left on the ground opposite each other. The crow (apparently that's what the species was called) appears inquisitive. Phillip, on the other hand, crawls back towards him within a minute. "What's their name?" The god asks when Celandine soon shows signs of leaving. A chuckle. "She hasn't told me." It doesn't take too long after his birthday for the baby to learn how to stand with support. In fact, once he manages the feat once, he seems to become obsessed with it. Soft clicking can soon be heard near various pieces of furniture multiple times a day. It would seem the Blood God had just started to get the hang of dealing with a child at one stage of development when Phillip inevitably progressed onto the next. He learns to walk unassisted out on the grass around their house in June. He'd been warned this part of the infant's development would be slower than a human's but given he wasn't aware of how Overworlder children grew, it didn't bother him in the first place. The 1 year old avian struggles to maintain his balance in the beginning but as the weeks and months go on, the clack of talons on wood grows ever more common. Phillip catches him speaking with his ambassadors one day. The conversation isn't anything serious and honestly, should have been had in the Nether. However, wouldn't you know it, raising a kid requires you to be present in case they need you. So they're here, risking their wellbeing just so Phillip can be entertaining himself in the corner of his eye. The toddler specifically notices them bow prior to taking their leave. When the god turns to head back home, he spots a small figure crouch and punch the earth in an imitation of what he witnessed moments before. "Not the time or place." Phillip looks at him expectantly. He repeats the action. "Oh no, I'm not going to lower myself for you. It's called me being at the top of a hierarchy that you're at the bottom of. ...But you probably won't understand that concept for a while." A brief nod of the head is all Phillip receives. He pouts in response, makes a third attempt, but follows him inside all the same when he doesn't get what he wanted. Learning to speak is a slow process for the child, made even slower by the inconsistency of languages spoken at him. The only one who is monolingual is the bird Phillip got for his birthday. As time goes on and the boy starts to get used to forming words, he frequently points to the animal to say things such as "Am" or "Mimi". It's not until November or so that Phillip begins to refer to her as 'Amica'. It takes the god longer than it should have to realise that this is the crow's name and not, as he initially assumed, the Common translation of the Avian word for 'bird'. Amica it is then. The name becomes one of Phillip's favourite Common words to say. Also around this time, the savannah house gets completed, or at least the bare minimum of it is ready. Any extra rooms can be commissioned to be done in upcoming springs and summers if he so desires. The exterior is acacia with a cobblestone frame. It looks nice, as do the rooms inside. The basement that spans the entire area underneath the building will make for good storage space. Like the forest, there are plenty of trees and open spaces for Phillip to play in one day. With some rope and a plank of wood, he could craft a swing once Phillip is able to use one. He comes to realise that this child has no concrete language. Phillip will attempt to copy his grunts and snorts but nothing his vocal chords can produce is quite as deep or guttural as they need to be. The Blood God has been speaking in a mix of Piglin and Common, very occasionally reverting to Ancient Piglin. It depends on his mood but he has been attempting to raise him bilingual with a subconscious bias towards Piglin. Whenever Celandine visits, she will talk to him exclusively in Common for some reason instead of her own natural tongue. As for Amica, they converse only in Avian. However, the reasoning behind that is obvious. One way or another, he can tell Phillip is getting confused with all the words he has to know at only 2 years old. He will speak in Piglin, pause then make some kind of tweety noise while frowning. The funnier moments are when Phillip forgets himself and speaks Avian to him before realising his mistake when the god doesn't understand him. His tiny brain has to fit a great deal of information inside it but they will get there. Defeating a toddler in battle is very easy. His ward lacks co-ordination, focus and sometimes attempts to procure 'weaponry' that is far beyond his weight limit. The Blood God has been whacked with a stick more times than he would like. As annoying as having his legs be attacked with an inefficient blunt object can be, the kid's giggling whenever he reacts to it in any way does make it more tolerable. The wolves enjoy the results of his pitiful attempts at throwing though so all is not lost. However, all this physical play has a habit of messing up Phillip's wings if they're not careful. It had taken practice for the god to care for the wings to a decent standard. Now it was Phillip's turn to start learning, given that he was growing old enough to gain the dexterity for it. The majority of it is still the Blood God's responsibility because gods know that toddler does not pay self-grooming as much attention as he should yet but his involvement increases all the same. And when he molts over the summer, Phillip makes it clear he doesn't want his feathers disposed of. So the god supposes there's going to be a chest full of old feathers in it now. Who knows, it might be interesting for Phillip to peruse through one day. Each early January, the god has been begrudgingly allowing himself to be called away. Ever since Phillip came along, he's been slacking with this specific duty. He'll be presented with a selection of potential warriors for him to act as sponsor for but he never cares much for choosing the one he actually believes in, as he used to do. Being the Blood God's candidate in the fight used to be an advantage but he wouldn't be surprised if it's becoming a hinderance recently. How can you win if your sponsor doesn't help with your preparations throughout the year? The god would say he needed to sit out on being a sponsor if he could. It's simply not possible. It likewise is impossible for him to safely and discreetly keep Phillip in the Nether for weeks. When the actual tournaments come, he now skips them. He can get away with being absent, after all. It's not like he hasn't sat quarter- or semi-finals out before. The final though and the celebrations after? Yeah... not exactly something he can consider missing, especially given it's him who has to have the winner presented to him then host the party. To solve his problem, he speaks to Celandine. She apparently can't care for him in her own home (something about it not being suitable for mortals) but she can arrange for a couple to temporarily babysit Phillip while the finals are being fought. This time, he returns to house with a sleeping child in his hold. The toddler never says a huge amount regarding his time there. However, that's more likely due to his young age than a comment on his experience away from home. When he's three years old, the god decides Phillip is old enough to start working on fighting basics such as footing and learning environmental awareness. It's nothing strenuous or particularly physical but developing the foundation blocks now will serve them both well in the future. Use of any form of proper weaponry can be left for when Phillip is a little older. As the weeks roll by, the boy begins to really take to it. It requires conscious effort for him to maintain a proper stance when moving around but they can work on it. They both have years to get it right and improve efficiency. As a treat to reward him for his efforts so far, the Blood God plans to make a delicacy he's been wanting to introduce Phillip to for a while. He temporarily leaves him under the supervision of the wolves while he sleeps so that certain ingredients could be collected in the Nether. The fungus (both types, he's going all out) is sliced while he creates a broth with an infusion of wither petals. Mushrooms get thrown in too for an Overworld spin on it. An addition of torn petals completes the dish. When he serves it to Phillip, the boy recoils at the taste which causes him to end up eating wet mushrooms and fungus for dinner as a compromise. Not even an hour later, he is pale, less attentive than usual and holding a bowl due to being violently ill. He wants to dismiss it as food poisoning of some sort, maybe he didn't prepare it properly (he knows he didn't mess it up, not with how experienced he is with the dish) or perhaps Phillip is simply suffering from an undiscovered allergy. He reckons the best course of action is to send Amica to Celandine, she'd likely have a better idea than him. And oh, does she. "You gave him soup laced with wither rose petals? Are you trying to kill him?!" "Of course not." He growls back. "It's just that nobody seems to be writing down 'hey don't feed anything wither related to kids'." "Don't feed wither roses to anyone! How have you been around for millennia but still don't know only piglins have a tolerance to wither poison? Gods above, it is the commonest of common knowledge." Regaining his health is an arduous task for the small child. His body fights it as best as it can but its methods risk leading to severe dehydration. It is for this reason the god is eternally grateful their savannah home is close to a body of water. If he's not checking in on Phillip, he's boiling water or preparing safe food so he can urge the kid to eat. The fever keeps Phillip in bed for days. It's slow, it's messy, it's far from a great time for anyone. But they gradually see it through. Phillip just about manages to get to the other side, albeit feeling temporarily weaker. "He's lucky I gave him longevity as part of being one of my Chosen. /You're/ lucky." Celandine comments when the disaster finally begins to see its end. "Trust me, Blood God, one more miscalculation on your part that's in even the vaguest vicinity of this one and I will not hesitate to deliver him to the caregivers he should be with. The only reason I'm allowing this experiment of yours to continue is my own curiosity. However, I value him seeing 30 years more than how he gets to that age. This is your only warning." It is duly noted. The god thinks it wise to let Phillip mingle with other children. Who knows how he'd turn out if all he had for company throughout his formative years was a couple of gods, three immortal wolves and Amica or whatever other bird is willing to listen to his ramblings. The two of them are fairly secluded but there is a human town not too far from where the house is. With repeated visits, Phillip begins to make friends of the human variety. Most of the young children think Phillip is cool for having wings. They are also of the opinion that having a giant pig-looking man as a caregiver is impressive. One day on the walk home, the kid in his arm, Phillip looks up at him and opens his mouth. "What's a daddy? Coz- coz I was playing with a girl. Then the man was shouting. She said it was um... it was her 'daddy'. What's that?" "A father." "What's that?" "A male parent. So if you grew up and met a woman then had a baby together, you would be a father. Humans use dad and daddy colloquially." "What's-" "Slang." "Okay." Phillip ponders a moment. "Are you a daddy?" Nether damn you, kid. The god groans. "Yes... I suppose I am something like that to you." "Did you meet a woman?" "Well, Celandine is female and she let me take you home with me after I met her so... in a way." "Celly is a lady daddy." He nods. "That's typically called a mother." After Phillip questions whether the two deities have had a baby other than himself (no, definitely not together and the Blood God has never personally seen the point in siring any brood himself), he descends into further enquiries. It gets to the point the god makes an offhand comment about how he wasn't expecting to deal with a questionnaire today. Phillip responds by asking what a questionnaire is. With all that their conversation entails, it should honestly be counted as a miracle they never touch on the dreaded topic of conception. He does not, however, escape Phillip's gradual shift to a more informal way of addressing him. At least he's not calling him 'Sir' as if it's his actual given name anymore. Over the last few years of parenting, he has learned the quietest moments are the most suspicious ones. If Phillip is not chattering away to himself as he plays in the main room, he is likely running around outside with the wolves or engaging in conversation with Amica. That is to say, he is making noise one way or another. So when the god comes to the realisation he hears nothing on a day in early summer, it is safe to say he is concerned. He discovers Phillip standing on a low branch of a tree. "What are you trying to achieve with this?" The boy glances up. "Oh hi, Daddy. Celly said I was gonna fly. I gotta be 4 or 5 or 6. I'm 4 now so I'm gonna fly now." "I'm not sure it works like that. It's more to do with how large your wings are. They have to be able to support you in the air." "I'm 4." He holds up the appropriate quantity of fingers as if they will emphasise his point. "Celly said my wings are getting super big." That would not be how he would describe the size of those limited things. "They are growing but really, Phillip, you should be careful. I highly doubt you are ready yet." "Watch this." "Don't." He warns. "Get down from there." Phillip grins as if he's thought of the perfect scheme. "Okay!" He leaps from the branch, wings spread out. A second later, an 'oof' of a body hitting the ground is heard. The drop was too short to particularly do any damage (or, in fact, provide enough time for the wings to accept the wind). However, the young boy breaks into a fit of bawling as if he's hurt himself. He's seen stupider injuries over the centuries so a part of the god does not dismiss the possibility Phillip really has caused himself harm as a result of this stunt. Luckily for both of them, it's simply the typical 'small child acting like the most minor inconvenience is the end of the world'. It becomes a long summer of keeping an eye out for Phillip potentially attempting to repeat his actions. Practice may make perfect but the child will never take the skies if he breaks all his bones first. The kid begrudgingly adheres to the rule that he will not perform any flying-related activities without supervision. He often complains that he can't practise flying if he can't jump from a high enough spot to try. The god has none of it. Instead, he suggests the boy flap his wings to imitate flying while standing firm on ground as a better alternative. Phillip becomes a self-declared 'expert' at this soon enough. "Savannah, savannah, savannah." Phillip chants, hopping with his arms raised in an attempt to grab the god's hand. A bag is abandoned by his feet and he continues to pay it no heed in favour of badgering his father. He doesn't know why the child sees the need to jump for it. His current height now has him being not quite the length of one of his legs. Phillip is capable of taking his hand if he so desires by simply lifting it up all the way. "Yes, we are going to the savannah, hold on a minute." They both know the drill by now. In the final week of October, they travel to the house in the midst of the savannah. They return to their forest home as March sees its close. Each time, Phillip must cover up to obscure himself from view as he is carried through the Nether. The Blood God himself has a cloak of his own to further shield the child. This is arguably the first year Phillip is able to walk beside him since he can now reach the god's hand but for the sake of making things easier for everyone, the boy will be held during the trip. Most piglins have no reason to bother him. Even those tasked with helping him manage things from the ground on his behalf seem to have developed an unspoken rule to let him pass undisturbed if the path he takes leads him away from his manor. The moment Phillip is allowed on his feet upon their arrival this year, he sprints to the door. During one afternoon in February, he notices Phillip busy with the swing outside. He doesn't entirely understand the entertainment value in winding it up then spinning but if it amuses the kid then whatever. Amica seems to be keeping him company so that served the god well. He thinks this would be a good time to start carving this acacia wood he has lying around into a blade and handle. Because what 5 year old boy wouldn't want a sword for his birthday? And what god of war and blood wouldn't eagerly anticipate the day he can begin training his protégé properly?

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #kidza #my writing #blood and feathers

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starshard17 · 3 years

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Waterpark | Archer and Jakob

My friend asked me to write this actually, and it was a lot of fun <3

-----

Archer pulled the front of his jacket together, covering his chest as his face turned red. He quickly hooked the zipper together and zipped himself up, concealing his body. He let out a sigh of relief. That felt better.

He turned his head up to look around the water park, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone important. Archer fiddled with the zipper and bit his lower lip, starting to tap his foot on the pavement. He wasn't very fond of standing around waiting, especially in a place as open as this, but for this special someone that he planned to meet up with, he'd do anything.

Archer looked down at his feet, gulping down the lump that had risen in his throat. If he was being completely honest, he had no idea how to swim. He couldn't find himself comfortable enough with wearing just swim trunks to actually take lessons or even attempt to teach himself so he just never learned.

"Why the hell did I agree to this." Archer groaned, tousling his hair with his fingers. "I'm going to die on this date."

Then Archer's train of thought stopped as he processed the words that just came out of his mouth.

Date? A date? Did he just call an outing with his best friend a date? He plopped himself down on the ground, hiding his face in his hands. He just knew his face was turning bright red.

"I hate myselfffff." Archer drawled in a bit of a sing-songy voice.

"Aw hey, don't say that." Archer heard a familiar voice say with a pout. He whipped his head up, eyes wide and full of fear. There, right above him, he saw his best friend. Shirtless. Smiling. Incredibly hot.

What? Hot? His best friend? Hot? Haha. What is he thinking.

Archer pounded his fists lightly against his head, trying to clear away the thoughts he just had. He stood himself up and turned to face Jakob. He looked happy as ever. Why was he not surprised?

He shook his head, turning away to avoid staring at his friend's bare chest. He felt his face starting to warm up a bit. He was turning red again. His best friend was going to notice. He was going to make fun of him if he saw.

"Are you ready to get in the water? You've still got your jacket on and your glasses and you look shaky. Are you feeling okay? Do you have issues with swimming or something? Archer you should've told me we could've gone somewhere else!" His friend prattled on, worry quickly overtaking him. Archer jolted back into the conversation, practically shouting.

"NO IT'S FINE!" Archer yelled, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth, embarrassed at the loud octave his voice rose to.

"Sorry." Archer mumbled, looking away again. He watched as his dear, clueless friend cocked his head to the side, a confused look on his face.

"Sorry! Sorry. Jakob really. I'm okay with swimming. That's fine by me. I swear." Archer said, knowing full well that he was in fact, lying.

"Well-" Jakob started, hesitating a bit before extending his hand out to Archer. "-If you'd like, I can stick by you the whole time. You can hold my hand or lean onto me or whatever makes you comfortable. We can go find a place to put the stuff we're not gonna need while we're swimming then we can get started." He said with a smile. Archer too, hesitated before extending his hand and tightly gripping onto his friend's.

After finding a place to drop their belongings, and some convincing from Jakob, Archer took off his jacket and allowed his friend to pull him towards the water. Jakob stepped into the pool, the water splashing lightly around his ankles. Archer swallowed his fears and followed him, submerging his feet.

"There you go bud! You got your feet in! We're making progress." Jakob praised, noticing how nervous Archer still seemed. His friend slowly pulled him further into the water until it reached up to their middles. Archer's hold on Jakob's hand visibly tightened.

"You sure you're comfortable with swimming? You look insanely nervous." Jakob commented, pulling a single hand away before pulling away entirely. Archer let out a whimper of fear as his friend waded off a bit.

"Wait come backk." Archer pleaded. He blinked and squinted, trying to make his vision clearer. He couldn't see Jakob anymore. Archer stood up straight, looking around anxiously. He wasn't worried about his inability to swim considering his feet still touched the ground, but he was starting to feel vulnerable and exposed. What happened to staying by his side the whole time? He crumpled up on himself, refusing to move.

People brushed past him, laughing and having a good time. Where was your best friend when you needed him?

"Hey." A voice spoke. Archer rose his head, a huge smile spreading across his face when recognized the face. Then it turned into a deep frown.

"JAKOB YOU CAN'T JUST LET GO OF ME LIKE THAT!" Archer screeched, shoving him and causing him to fall back into the water. Jakob poked up above the surface again, laughing and smiling.

"Sorry, sorry. I expected you to follow me." Jakob told him, gently tucking a loose strand of Archer's hair behind his ear.

"Yeah well you said you'd hold my hand too so when you let go I got kinda anxious I guess." Archer said with a shrug, trying to brush it off. "Not like I'm scared of swimming though! Cause ... who would be haha." He laughed nervously. Archer looked up, noticing a concerned look on his friend's face.

"Archer buddy, if you don't like swimming or you are scared please tell me. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, I want you to have fun!" Jakob pleaded with an overly adorable pout. Damn him.

"Nah it's not the water it's the people." Archer told him, only telling half the truth. "Can you just... maybe not let go of my hand next time?" He asked, his throat seeming to tighten up near the end of his sentence, making his words come out squeaky.

"You'd really feel more comfortable if I held your hand the whole time?" Jakob asked. Archer nodded, holding his hands out again.

"Yes please." He said, his face brightening as he watched Jakob place his hands on top of his. They intertwined fingers and held tight to one another.

"We'll take things slow. And this time, you'll make sure to follow me and I won't let go of you." Jakob promised, smiling softly.

"Thank you." -----

As time progressed, Archer started to get a little more comfortable on the more shallow end of the pool. The two would splash water at each other and laugh when the other said something stupidly funny. Things got a little testy when Jakob suggested moving to a less crowded area of the pool. The Deep End.

"Well if your issue is the people and not necessarily the water, a little deeper should be fine right?" Jakob suggested as he gently tugged on Archer's arm, pulling them further and further into deeper water.

"Yeah." Archer squeaked eventually, terrified of going any further. He could barely reach the bottom anymore, but he let Jakob drag him farther in until soon enough, he couldn't feel the bottom of the pool anymore. He clung tightly onto Jakob, trusting him to be able to keep him afloat. He let his face rest on his chest, the wetness of the little droplets beading his friend's skin oddly soothing pressed against his cheek.

He allowed himself to be lulled into a calmer state of mind with his head pressed against his friend's sturdy body, trusting him fully.

Until that trust was immediately broken. He felt himself be moved away from Jakob and he had to rely on himself to stay floating. He thrashed about, splashing water at his friend.

He was freaking out. He didn't want to go under, if he did, he wasn't sure if he'd get back to the top without having to choke up some water.

Then he felt a pair of hands grab his wrists and steady him. He took a moment to compose himself and looked straight ahead, being met with his friend's gaze.

"Deep breaths pal." Jakob told him, moving his hands up into his palms, holding Archer's hands tight. Archer took in a gulp of air before breathing back out, slowly calming down once more.

"See? There you go. It's not too bad, yeah?" Jakob said, his voice soft and soothing.

Archer nodded, relaxing as he felt the pads of Jakob's thumbs running over the back of his hands.

"I'm going to ask one more time. You're sure that water isn't a problem?" He asked, voice dripping with pure worry.

"Okay. I've never gone swimming before. I was just so happy to have the chance to spend time with you that I didn't even consider the fact that I have clue how to swim. I just. Really like hanging out with you. Not to mention you sounded so excited about coming to a water park. I didn't want to disappoint you." Archer rambled. Each word held truth in it.

"Archer." Jakob spoke, causing his head to turn up.

"You can tell me when you're not comfortable with something. I would've been glad to spend time with you anywhere. It didn't have to be here if you didn't want it to be." He explained, pulling one hand away from his and resting it on Archer's cheek. Archer leaned into the touch, placing his hand on top of his friend's.

"Thank you. For everything today. And for being so understanding. It really means a lot." Archer said with a smile.

"I think I can handle keeping myself floating now. But. I don't want you to let go of my hands. I like holding them." Archer muttered, gripping his best friend's tighter.

"Of course." Jakob responded, pulling their hands to meet in between the two of them.

"I refuse to let go. Unless at some point you'd want me to." He said with a laugh. Archer snickered and gripped his hands even tighter.

"Thank you so much I-"

"HEY LOOK OUT!!" A voice shouted.

The next thing Archer saw was beneath the surface of the pool. Water flooded his mouth and he started coughing and squirming, trying to resurface until everything eventually turned black.

-----

"ARCHER! ARCHER WAKE UP!" Slowly, his eyes opened up, giving him a blurry view of the outside world. He coughed up a small bit of water as he flipped onto his side before sitting up fully, wrapping his arms around his middle.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly.

"I thought you were totally dead!" Jakob cried, hugging Archer close, causing his face to press into his chest.

"Honestly. Me too." Archer admitted, coughing up a bit more water as he spoke.

"Gross..." He mumbled, staring at wet ground in front of himself.

Then he felt a pair of lips plant themselves on his cheek, giving him a quick little peck. He let out an audible squeak and his face turned cherry red. His eyes moved upwards, glancing at his friend. He could barely make out the features due to him being a bit blurry, but he could tell just how worried he really had been.

He looked like he had been crying, and it read plain as day on his face that he truly was scared for Archer's life.

"I fished you out of the water and let you rest on the ground, just waiting for you to get up. I tried cpr and-"

As Jakob rambled, Archer felt his hand rise to lips and he seemed to be in some sort of daze as he imagined what he could've meant.

"Like. Mouth to mouth?" Archer asked, feeling his cheeks heat up more. Jakob stopped talking, his face turning a bit red as well.

"I panicked, okay?" He muttered, crossing his arms. "I thought you were dying so I had to do something."

Archer watched as he scrunched up on himself, seemingly embarrassed. He moved a bit closer to Jakob, and without thinking, he pulled his friend's head down and pressed their lips together.

As he pulled away, he watched Jakob's expression go from embarrassed to extremely flustered. Archer laughed.

"Don't worry about it. I think I'm okay with the idea of you freaking out enough to kiss me while I'm dying." He joked, lightly punching Jakob's arm.

"Shut up!" Jakob squealed, pushing Archer back into the water.

#Archer Blaine #Jakob Carlos #my writing #waterpark story <3

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