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iggy5055 · 1 month

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Yandere Whitebeard Pirates X Reader Part 1

Summary: after (Y/N)'s older brother is murdered in cold blood she traverses the cold mountains of her island in an attempt to escape, only to be saved by some unsuspecting heros.

Warnings: gun shot, death, pain, trauma, lying, frost bite, start of emotional manipulation

A shocking outcome on the poll but here you finally go and thank you for all your love and support and your amazing patients ❤️

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The cold bit into my skin as I do my best to remain awake. Despite being raised in such cold climates I found myself being caught unawares and unprepared. Trudging through the cold windy mountains with nothing on my feet. I couldn't feel my toes anymore, my feet starting to turn a nasty blue and black color.

My hair no longer blew in the wind, frozen to my skull along with my tears. I shiver violently as my body tries to warm me up.

Even from the mountain side I could see my village, in flames. With my vision blurry it almost looked like the sun was rising, but I knew I wasn't that lucky.

I try and make it to the other side of my island, hoping that I could find a way off it and away from all the carnage. It was definitely a rude awakening when I was suddenly shaken awake by my older brother, yanking me out of bed and trudging through the snow towards the mountains. With no explanation as to why, but once I was outside, seeing the fresh warm blood melting and staining what was once pristine white snow with cannonballs and bullets flying in any which way I understood why we didn't have time to put on our shoes.

Houses were burning to the ground as families screamed inside trying to find a way out. And for those who had made it out trying to stop the bleeding of loved ones.

Even only being outside for a few moments I could already feel myself shivering in my light sleeping clothes. My brother holding me tightly by my hand as he drags me around as fast as he can. Weaving thought small alleyways and streets trying to avoid whoever was attacking. It had been made clear to me it was pirates, despite living in the new world we didn't fall under any Emperors protection, and we fairly ever saw marines aside from the occasional ship doing to re-supply. If they ended up here they are almost always off course. we were very close to the calm belt and pretty close to the red line, hence we are pretty out of the way.

Being a small winter island in an out of the way corner of the world came with many benefits. We almost never saw pirates, our island wasn't anywhere on the way to the final island so there wasn't a point to coming here, and with the lack of pirates meant a blatant lack of Marines, we were never in danger so it was never needed. At least never needed until now.

Panting heavily from running around our small little village I could hear loud laughing, Suddenly my brother stopped just as we were about to leave an ally causing me to run into his back.

I gasped quietly as I stood behind him. I couldn't clearly make out what I was seeing, but from the sound of pained screams and cruel laughing I figured I didn't really want to know.

I hid my face in my brother's back avoiding whatever he was staring at. I could feel him start to shiver as he slowly crouched down, leading me down with him, but I knew he wasn't shivering from the cold, he was shivering from pure unbridled fear.

"(Y/N), we need to be quiet and we need to be fast. We have to sneak by them and get to the mountains, once we get past them we will be able to find a boat on the other side and run. Do you understand me?"

I quietly nodded into his back, wanting to avoid making any sound.

Slowly while still being crouched down we moved out of the dark alley. Despite the carnage now being clearly in my line of sight, I stare at the wall of the building we were crouching beside. The last thing I wanted to see was the deaths of my friends. The thought brought tears to my eyes.

"We're almost there, just a little more."

I try to quiet my sniffles, even if it is dark. The fires that have been spreading start to illuminate the village as if it were the sun, and the soft crunch of the snow under my feet that seemed louder than ever when we are trying to sneak around and be unnoticed.

"HEY!!!!!"

My brother whipped his head around looking behind up then down at me with panic all over his face and fear in his eyes.

"RUN!!"

We bolt off into the tree that surrounds the mountains, I turn back to look at who was chasing us and for a split second it looked like a girl with long half up hair in some kind of robe, pointing a gun at us.

Just as I turn back around and run with my brother I hear the shot of her pistol.

"ARGGGGGGGGH"

My brother screams as the bullet narrowly misses me and hits his left shoulder blade. He released my hand from his crushing grip as he collapsed on the ground, clutching his shoulder in pain.

I'm about to get down beside him and help before he yanks me in front of him.

"RUN (Y/N), DON'T LOOK BACK JUST RUN!!!!"

Tears pour down my cheeks as I feel my brother's warm blood stain the snow and touch my bare feet, warming them but sending a chill up my spine.

"no, I d-don't want to l-leave you."

My voice was choked with sobs, as I looked past him and saw the shooter calling over more of her crew.

"You need to go. Find the boat on the other side of the and run, don't stop till you find help."

"I can't"

I can't help the hiccups that come out as I beg for him to get up and come with me, to hold on and to run with me.

My heart was beating a mile a minute. I swear it was about to explode.

"Please (Y/N), I can't watch you die, run. Live for me, find peace for me."

His voice crashed as he banged me to run. I could slowly see that light fading from his eyes. The blood poured out of his shoulder like a waterfall, clearly it hit an artery. I sobbed loudly as I clung to him begging him not to leave me and to get up.

"HE'S DOWN, GRAB HER!!!"

I look up to see several of the pirates making their way over to me and my brother, the woman no longer pointing her guns but still holding them. Now she was accompanied by three clearly tall and muscular men, all coming out of the town and making their way over to us.

I looked down at my brother again, seeing his pale skin and his dark lifeless eyes grow cold as ice. I gently kissed his forehead with shaky lips before getting up and running as fast as I could, regardless of my gut reaching sobs and hiccups.

I could hear them chasing after me, yelling and telling me to stop. Once I was in the tree line I started to zig zag through the trees, trying to be as quiet as possible while also avoiding being shot. Once I was a ways up the ridge I looked back to see the flames of my home grow exponentially.

I no longer heard the yells of the pirates chasing me but I didn't want to risk it so I continued up the mountain, cold rocks and ice cutting into my souls. I was clearly making bloody footprints making it easy to follow but if I'm lucky I'll make it to the boats quickly, leaving no more trails to follow.

I continue hiking up the mountain shivering like a scared lamb, all alone with my consciousness beginning to fade. Black spots started to appear in my vision, fading and reappearing. Between my fading vision and the darkness of the woods at the dead of night I could feel myself fading bit by bit.

It couldn't have been more than a minute till I collapsed into the cold snow.

"N-no, I-I can't d-di-e h-here~"

My voice faded into a whisper as I black out unable to move any further. But before I had completely passed out I saw a great brilliant light of blue and gold. Maybe this was the end of me, I could feel my last tear fall, sad I couldn't fulfill my promise to my brother, I guess now I could apologize in person.

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Consciousness came to me slowly, my body felt numb, like pins and needles had appeared all over my body, my extremities especially. I tried to move, lifting my hand only for it to feel like they were trapped under boulders. I tried to open my eyes, only to shut them just as quickly from the brightness of the room I was in.

I groaned in pain, even just trying to move a little bit hurt. Warm tears moved down my cheeks. Small sobs escaped my horse throat. I felt something small hop up on my bed, I felt what seemed like a small paws brush on my thighs over and over. A quiet whine came from what I now assumed was a small dog.

On one hand I was glad I wasn't dead, but on the other hand I didn't know it was possible to be in this much pain. Through my small sobs I didn't hear the creak of a door opening or the gentle footsteps coming closer to the bed.

It wasn't until I heard the dog on my lap bark and growl a little at the new stranger I even noticed someone was in the room.

"Quit it Stefan."

It wasn't until I felt the bed dip from the man sitting down beside me that I tried to open my eyes to see who was there but it was all still too bright. Soft hiccups left my lips now as I cried and tried to speak to this stranger.

"Shhhh, pretty girl. it's ok."

The man above me gently cooed as he gently ran his fingers through my hair, giving my scalp a light massage. I tried to do what he suggested and took a deep breath, holding it for a second and letting it out again.

"There we go, atta girl~."

After a few more deep breaths I tried to open my eyes again, I did it slowly and kept my eyes squinted, I could make out tan skin and an orange, what I assumed to be a hat, on the man's head.

"Ohh, it's too bright isn't it, here, gimme a sec."

The weight was lifted off the bed and the dog gave another little bark at the man. I heard the sound of shades being drawn and the light shining through my eyelids diminishes.

The man walks over and sits beside me again. I felt his unusually warm hand being pressed to my cheek.

"Lets try opening those lovely eyes again, huh?"

I slowly started to open my eyes again, after a second of adjustment and waiting for my tears to slow I looked up to see a handsome man with a big grin looking down at me. Now that I could see him properly I saw his incredibly toned skin, skin that just so happened to not have a shirt on it. He had a dark red beaded necklace around his neck and an orange hat on top of soft black locks. Looking over to the paws on my legs I saw a little white dog with a crescent moon mustache.

Looking back over to the handsome young man I tried to ask him where I was and what had happened. The last thing I remember was seeing a bright light before passing out in the snow. But when I tried to speak all that came out was sad little whimpers that hurt.

More hot tears fell from my eyes at the pain, I tried to lift my hand up to my throat but it also wouldn't move.

"Ohhh, Shhhhhh sweet girl, it's ok, it's ok. Just breathe, I'm going to go get someone who can help you ok?

I nodded as much as I could as my head fell back onto the pillow as I closed my eyes again, trying to manage with the pain as much as I could. I could hear his footsteps walk out and the quiet latching of the door being shut again as I tried to comprehend what was happening and how I got here in the first place.

As the sobs left my body I faintly heard the dog the man before called Stefan whine a little as he crawled over to my face, licking away my tears for me.

After a few minutes I opened my eyes again when I heard footsteps outside my room before the door began to creak open. The shirtless man came back but this time he wasn't alone. Another man with blonde hair and an open button up shirt and a blue tattoo on his chest, a tattoo that I recognized. When the other man closed the door I saw the large purple tattoo on his back, the mark of Whitebeard. I was with pirates.

I began to thrash around as much as I could, which really wasn't much but it was enough to have Stefan jump off of the bed. My breathing was uneven as I started to hyperventilate as I tried to get up to run away. All I was really able to do was to push the blanket off of me a little before the blonde instructed the other man, who he called Ace to hold me down.

Ace ran over to me moving in behind me so I was leaning against his back as his two strong hands held onto my wrists. Having him move me into a sitting position was less than comfortable but it wasn't as bad as when I finally saw why I was in so much pain.

My fingers, toes and parts of my legs and arms were black and purple, a clear sign of serious frostbite. No wonder I was in so much pain. but what was I expecting? Passing out on a snowy mountain in your PJ's was bound to do some serious damage. Tears continued to fall as I 'thrashed' to get out of his grip.

I knew there was no point, my merger strength was nothing compared to a seasoned pirate, but there was no way I wouldn't try.

"Marco, do something!"

I saw 'Marco' walk over to me with a syringe filled with some kind of liquid, making me try and thrash around even more. As he got closer Ace pinned down one of my arms to the bed. I began shaking my head back and forth, begging them to stop.

"N-no please n-o."

I could nearly get the words out as I begged them not to do anything.

"Shhhhh, Baby Bird. You're ok. we aren't going to hurt you."

I couldn't help my body trembling as he motioned for Ace to hand him my arm.

"Deep breath Firefly, just take some deep breaths with me."

I could feel Ace's chest rise and fall as he took some deep breaths, encouraging me to do the same.

At first I refused, keeping my eyes trained on Marco and the syringe in his hand, waiting for him to stick me with it, wondering what it would do.

But after a minute or two of him staring calmly into my eyes, massaging my wrist with his hand I could help but calm down as Ace helped me breathe.

"There we go, Little Bird~. This is just gonna help you sleep a little so we can fix you up a little more."

Ace began to gently rock me back and forth in his arms as Marco managed my wrist, slowly bringing the syringe closer and closer.

Ace nudged my cheek with his, pushing my head to look away.

"It's ok Firefly, it's just gonna help you nap a little, you'll be up before supper.

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Waking up a second time was a lot less painful than before, if not a little more panicked, I was able to sit up by myself and when I looked down to see my hands. They were wrapped in bandages that went up most of my arms, the same bandages going up my legs.

"Good to see ya finally up. Figured the dose Marco gave you wouldn't last too long, you musta just been really tired."

I gasp as I look to my right, seeing a tall man with brown hair, a goatee and wearing chef's clothes.

"The names Thatch, I'm Whitebeard's fourth division commander, I also just so happen to be the cook here on the Moby Dick."

My mouth hung open as I tried to figure something out to say, I couldn't help my trembling as another member of the Whitebeard Pirates sat in front of me. Talking to me as if we were friends.

I looked down at my hands again, not knowing what to say to him. All I could do was fiddle with the bandages only for a warm hand to engulf both of mine, making me look back at Thatch.

"Better not, Marco would have my head if I let you take off your bandages. He did his best to heal you but couldn't heal all of it, your frostbite was super extensive. He applied some kind of cream all over the parts he couldn't fix right away before he applied the bandages."

I slowly nodded at him, trying to subtly pull my hands away from him. His one hand completely eclipses both of mine but he wouldn't let me go, just giving me a little smirk when I looked back up at him.

"Come on Buttercup, we better get some food into ya, you can't heal with an empty belly."

Once he mentioned food I realized how hungry I actually was, not just hungry but really thirsty too. I nodded a little, keeping my head down as I tried to swing my legs over the edge of the bed to stand up only for Thatch to let go of my hands wrap his arm around my shoulders and one under my knees.

I flinched a little as he hosted me into his arms, my back was fine but my legs throbbed with pain.

He cringed a little at the sound I made when he picked me up.

"Sorry Buttercup, I know it hurts but trust me, having you walk right now would be a hundred times worse."

I begrudgingly nodded my head. As much as I didn't like being carried around if just being picked up hurt, I didn't want to know how much it would hurt to actually walk around.

Thatch smiled down at me and started to walk to the door, the second he opened it after adjusting me a little I heard barking.

I looked down to see the little dog Stefan jumping up at me, his front paws resting on Thatches legs.

I could feel the rumble of Thatches chest as he laughed at the little dog's antics.

"We had to keep him out of your room because he kept trying to take your bandages off, he really doesn't like them for some reason. But he's been guarding your room ever since we kicked him out."

Thatch walked down the long corridor and up a large flight of stairs. Stefan follows close behind. As he walked up onto the main deck I squinted my eyes. Wherever we were was hot, even as the sun was setting it was still so warm, a sharp contrast from my home island.

You could see nothing but sea from all angles, no land for miles most likely. The sun looked beautiful, reflecting the sun and the beautiful colors of the sky.

"Hey Firefly! You're awake!"

Ace jumped off the railing of the ship and ran over to us. I flinched back as he came closer and reached his hand out to touch me.

His face flashed with concern, looking over to Thatch.

"What did you expect, Fire Fist."

He rolled his eyes but before he could say anything someone cut him off.

"She's hurt, in a new place and surrounded by new people, slow it down Ace."

Thatch turned slightly and I was just able to see over his shoulder, Marco was walking over to us.

Ace nodded sheepishly. Marco walked in front of me, hunching over a little so that we were face to face, not giving me a whole lot of breathing room considering his last statement.

"How are you feeling, Baby Bird? Woozy, dizzy, nauseous?"

I tried to turn my face away, almost nuzzling into Thatches chest but Marco cupped my cheek with his hand, gently forcing me to look at him. He lifted his other hand to my cheek, slowly turning my head side to side ever so slightly. His eyes examined every inch of my face.

He raised his eyebrow a little, waiting for me to respond to his question. Thatch gave me a little nudge, silently encouraging me to answer him.

"I.... I feel f-fine."

My voice was barely above a whisper. Marco tilted his head at me, clearly waiting for me to say more. After a few more seconds of silence Thatch decided to speak up.

"Come on Marco, like you said, she's scared. I bet she'll feel more talkative once she gets some food in her system."

He signed but nodded, backing up a little, releasing my cheeks from his palms after giving them a stroke with his thumbs.

Thatch smiled down at me as I curled into myself as much as I could while being left and without hurting myself too much. It was uncomfortable being so close to so many dangerous and world renowned pirates.

Thatch flipped around, pushing a swinging down open with his back and walked down a small flight of stars and into a mess hall, but not before shooing Stefan away, saying no dogs were allowed.

Looking around I could see the mess hall being completely empty. it made sense, with it being practically dark now everyone would have had dinner by now.

I figured He would set me down on one of the many benches lining the long tables, but instead he flips around to open another set of doors and lead into a large, pristine kitchen. He gently sets me down on the counter top.

I shivered at the cold counter that touched the part of my bare thighs that wasn't covered in bandages. Ace and Marco stepped into the kitchen not too long after us. Ace noticing the goosebumps that had spread all over my skin almost instantly.

"Well that just won't do."

He hopped up onto the counter with me and grabbed my waist, hoisting me to sit on his lap. I yelped loudly, making Thatch look over his shoulder from his cooking only to smirk and look back once he knew I was 'safe'. At least in his terms anyway. On my terms on the other hand, this felt less than safe.

I adjusted myself in his lap a little but with his strong arms wrapped tightly around my stomach there wasn't much I could do. He rested his chin on my shoulder lightly.

He felt warm, almost too warm, as if he had a fever. his body heat began to smother away the cold from the room. After a minute small flames appeared all over his arms. I screamed a bit, causing Marco who was leaning against the counter, staring at a clipboard I haven't noticed he had and Thatch was still making me dinner to look over at us.

As I panic, screaming for him to let me go and try to get out of Ace's arms before I get burned I could hear Thatch laugh a little at my trying to get away. I didn't seem to understand what was so funny. One of his cremates had just erupted into flames with me held in a vice grip and he was laughing. If I wasn't so scared right now and badly injured I would try to smack him, pirate or not.

"Shhhhh, baby bird. You're ok. Calm down."

Marco was much more sympathetic to my fear. He stepped in front of me, holding my hands that had been trying to shove Ace's arms away from me, bringing my knuckles to his lips despite my harsh yanking.

"L-Let me g-go!!!!"

Ace leaned his head up, pressing his lips into my ear and whispering softly.

"It's ok Firefly, just calm down for a second. Focus on Marcos hands, on my voice."

After another second of panic I calmed down a little, thought it was less of me calming down and more of me losing what little stamina I still had.

Marco and Ace kept talking to me softly, coaxing me into relaxing as much as they could.

"See Firefly? It's not burning you. We would never let that happen."

I whimpered softly as they both held me close, keeping me from thrashing around. But at this point I don't think I could even if I wanted to. After a few minutes of Marco coxing me to take some deep breaths, Ace spoke up again.

"Do you know what a Devil Fruit is Firefly?"

I nod stiffly.

Thatch came to stand beside us. A plate of warm food in his hands. I stared at it longingly until Marco gripped my chin making me look at him again as Ace continued.

"Tell me what you know?"

After a few more deep breaths it was able to squeak out a reply.

"They are magical fruits that give whoever eats them powers, but they can't swim anymore."

I could feel Ace nodding as Marco gave me a smile.

"Anything else?"

I shake my head. While I knew what devil fruits where I was never interested enough to actually learn anything in detail.

"Well Baby Bird, there are a lot of different kinds of Devil Fruits. Some give you powers, some let you turn into animals and some like Ace can control elements, even becoming them if he wanted too.

I look back down at Ace's arms, the little flames still there.

"I can control the heat of my flames, Firefly. I could use them to burn my enemies, or warm up those I care about."

Ace lifted one of his hands and covered it completely in fire. Marco took one of my hands he was holding and placed it over Aces. I panicked for a second before I realized that the flame wasn't burning me. Just warming up my hand.

"See Buttercup, we wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

Thatch nudged Marco out of the way, causing him to let go of my hands, replacing them with a warm bowl of soup.

"Now eat up, you can ask all the questions you want once you are done."

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Once I had finished eating, Thatch had taken the bowl and washed it, Marco taking his previous spot in front of me. I looked up at him. Not knowing what to do next.

He looks down at my arms and legs, before looking back into my eyes.

"Before anything else I should check on your wounds and change your bandages. It's only been a few hours But I'd rather be safe than sorry."

I nodded at him, keeping my eyes down. As sweet as they all had been to me they were all more than a little intimidating.

Marco huffed a soft sigh as he picked me up and started walking out of the kitchen much to Ace's displeasure.

The second I was out of his arms the room seemed even colder than it was before,making the goosebumps coming back with a vengeance. Once Marco noticed he leaned down and whispered into my ear.

"We'll also find you some better clothes."

As warm as it was earlier the night came with an uncomfortable chill in the air especially out at sea. I nodded silently and nuzzled into him a little. As scared as I was, being surrounded by unknowns hasn't really hurt me yet and I didn't really have any option anyway.

Walking down a bunch of winding corridors we eventually end up in what I assumed was a med bay. It was really big all things considered. Not something I thought would have been on a ship but considering how big the ship was and how many crew members were aboard it made sense.

Marco set my on a cot closest to what I assumed was his desk. Behind it being several cabinets that lined the entire wall. Some of the doors had locks on them, others didn't. He walked over to one of the cabinet doors and opened it pulling out a small canister and some more bandages.

I nodded after a second. He smiled up at me before looking back to my leg focusing on the task in front of him.

He came over and knelt in front of me, taking one of my calves into his hand, looking up at me for permission. After all that had happened he didn't seem like the person to ask permission but I felt a little better knowing he wanted to make sure I was ok with his going any farther.

He slowly started to unwind the bandages, letting me see the damage again. In all fairness it looked much better than before but it still looked pretty nasty.

He examined my calf for a second before his hands erupted in blur and gold flames making me scream for the umpteenth time today.

Marco looked at me sympathetically.

"Its ok Baby Bird, I have a devil fruit too. It lets me heal any injury on myself, it lets me heal others but it doesn't work as well."

His voice was low and calm as he explained his abilities to me.

"It was you."

Marco glanced up at me for a second before focusing on my leg again, humming a question an what I was talking about.

Tears fell down my cheeks onto my thighs Marco stood up immediately once he noticed, taking my cheeks in his hands.

I shook my head as much as his hands would let me.

"What's wrong Baby Bird? What hurts?"

"On the mountain, before I passed out and when you put me to sleep."

I looked into his eyes,

"I saw the same flames."

He smiled at me and pressed his forehead to mine.

"Yes Baby Bird, I was the one who found you."

A sob escaped my throat as I tried to compose myself, I needed answers.

"W-what happened?"

He sighs again.

"You're Island had been attacked by Pirates, we had happened to be nearby when we saw flames in the distance. Once we got there it had been too late, the town was in flames with hundreds dead. We were fighting the pirates and looking for any survivors when I saw a trace of blood leading to the mountains, that's where I had found you collapsed in the snow"

I couldn't help the choked sob that came from me before I was finally able to say anything.

"Survivors?"

I couldn't stop my tears once he confirmed everyone else was dead.

Marco gave me a solemn look, before shaking his head.

"A-are you-u su-sure?"

I could barely get the words out through my sobs.

"I'm so sorry Baby Bird."

I collapsed into his arms, feeling him hold me tightly as I sobbed into his chest. Nearly unable to breath through my grief.

"Don't worry Baby, we aren't going to let anything happen to you."

But little did I know about the horrifying smirk on his face. Or his plans for my future.

#yandere #one piece #yandere x reader #yandere one piece #yandere one piece x reader #one piece x reader #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard pirates x reader #yandere Whitebeard Pirates x reader

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blujayonthewing · 2 months

Note

Future and/or mask for Aubree and/or June? :)

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Juniper has a nasty combo of a martyr complex and a terror of loss and letting go, which could very easily lead to a Bad Ending June who is consumed with desperation to avoid or undo a terrible fate befalling someone she loves, and driven by that desperation to give up too much of herself in the process. She's spent a lot of the campaign warning others against making deals with fey, especially more obviously malicious ones, and she's been right to do so-- but it's less that she thinks sensible advice doesn't apply to her, and more that she thinks her (life, personhood, moral code, etc) is worth less than others' sacrificing to protect someone she cares about. I don't think she's... completely unaware of this. It makes her nervous. Themes of self sacrifice for a greater good have already come up in this campaign, for one thing; it's a concept she's had to confront, on some levels. Also, Fengling's backstory villains need her magical/ ceremonial tattoos to stabilize a planar portal that's going to inevitably tear the world apart if it can't be controlled, and while mostly Juniper is, of course, on team 'we have to find a way to defeat the bad guys and save the world,' she was startled by her very first impulse being 'Good. They deserve to have to live to helplessly watch the apocalypse they caused by violently driving Fengling away.' There's a tiny part of June that would rather let the world literally burn than risk those people getting their hands on Fengling again, and it scares her-- so, she's definitely aware her own moral compass can be compromised.

The thing is, mostly her plan for 'don't martyr yourself' is 'try to prevent it from being necessary', and her plan for 'don't compromise your morals' is 'well OBVIOUSLY I wouldn't ACTUALLY do anything evil,' neither of which is... extremely helpful if push ever actually came to shove 😬 TL;DR Bad Ending Juniper permanently gives up her freedom in some way, likely in the sense of actual autonomy or personhood through some supernatural means, in some kind of desperation fey bargain to save someone else.

AUBREE... it's harder to... pinpoint. I feel like a lot of Worst Possible Futures for her are kind of.... out of her hands, in ways that I don't know if they're interesting to talk or hear about? Our warlock keeps looking for excuses teetering on the brink of catastrophic angst explosion; there's definitely a darkest timeline where Lisbet self-destructs in a way that feels meaningless and tears the party apart-- timelines where all of our/ Aubree's efforts to do good in the world feel pointless to the point of inescapable despair-- timelines where she gives up on everything she believes in, the convictions that drive her forward, and ends up drinking the rest of her life away, bitter and jaded and hopeless, regressed to the lowest point of her life and unable to ever recover again. The good news is that this is all very unlikely; she's deeply stubborn and her convictions run very deep, and it would take losing everything she's fought for, which isn't the kind of story our DM is trying to tell. The bad news is that's not a very interesting answer, aaahah.

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

Not that she's very good at it, but Juniper is insistent about keeping up the front that she's fine, really, of course she's fine, why wouldn't she be? She's deeply aware of how much more real everyone else's problems are than hers, and doesn't want to burden anyone else with her silly, petty problems (all of them, of course, as far as she's concerned). She's let Fengling in, a little, just once or twice, and she's cracked when pressed once or twice, but for the most part she maintains that she's perfectly fine and no one ever need worry about her, let her do the worrying please, thank you very much

Oof well... on the one hand, for the most part, Aubree is a very straightforward, heart-on-the-sleeves, staunchly only ever Herself sort of person; not wearing a figurative mask no matter what has historically gotten her in more trouble than anything else, but she couldn't be any other way even if she wanted to, which she doesn't. That.... said. She has also become, increasingly, an '... I'm fine.' sort of person as well. Some of the party are fragile to the point of dangerously unstable, some are detached to the point of harshly callous, and we're all sort of bound together by circumstances in a way that makes conflict harder to manage and irreconcilable differences harder to call the relationship quits over. Nearly any time she's voiced concerns, or fears, or grief, or (god forbid) anger, she's been either talked over or shouted down... so...... she's been keeping that shit to herself instead, as much as possible. It's new for her, and she hates it, but it beats any alternative available to her right now, so. I'm sure it's fine (:

ask about my OCs?

#sarahmeeps #WHEEZE and out of the GRAVEYARD with this ask gfkjdhfkjddg #sorry my brains are tapioca pudding but at least I got around to it eventually lmao #AUBREE'S DOING SO FINE. HER CAMPAIGN IS GOING REALLY GREAT. AHAHAHA #the-- I don't wanna bitch too much in the tags but briefly: the frustrating thing is Justin is SUCH a good DM and the campaign is SO good #EXCEPT. FOR. AUBREE'S 'FRIENDS'. WHO MAKE IT SO STRESSFUL ALL THE TIME FOR NO REASON. AAUGH #juniper is Going Through It but in a way that feels manageable for me as a player lol like Good Story Narrative Stress you know?#ANYWAY sarah thank you for the ask these were really good questions!! 🥰#ask thing #my OCs #aubree #juniper

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randomreadingtimewithtsuki · 2 years

Note

Scenario with Kurama this time! He comes home and his girlfriend is attempting to make him dinner as a surprise but ended up burning herself and the food in the process. Would love it if she's plus size too please 🙏 thank you again!! 💖

Hello! Thank you for requesting!

I hope this is of your liking, please let me know what you think!

Forgive me for the delay, I had a lot to do at work this week!

Tw: Injure mention, just a little burn.

Tsuki's note: I changed the request a bit, as I see everyone as teens ( kind of? Kurama Hiei? What are you?) So I decided to go with baking something route! I hope you don't mind!

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Today you had some free time and no sign of Kurama so far. He went to help Yusuke with something again, not like you minded, Yusuke was dear friend of yours!

Is just you got a little bored without the boy around. Of course Keiko and Yusuke's mom made you company sometimes, even Botan and Shizuru as well, but today was not one of those days.

Since it was a little late, you decided to bake something for the boys for when they come back. You chose to do some cookies!

You had all you needed for it, so you began! As soon as you placed them on the oven you heard a ruckus outside and a familiar voice: Botan. She came back ahead because Koema called her, apparently she had some extra info but couldn't find the boys, so she figured she would stop by someone's place to not miss them. And she chose yours.

She briefly explained to you what changed on their mission and, boy, they were in for a headache.

You were so entertained on her talk you completely forgot about the cookies. Well, that is until the smell of burnt came to your noses.

You rushed to the kitchen and Botan followed you suit. On your rush to save the cookies you ended up hitting your hand on the roof of the oven, causing a nasty burn on your fingers.

But then you must be thinking: you saved the cookies right? Wrong. They burned. You cursed under your breath,Botan held in a giggle, but she managed to help you with your burned fingers.

By the time she was done, Koema called her again: the boys were back for the time being, they were at Genkai's house.

You asked Botan for a little ride to get there - burned fingers or not you missed Kurama - she gladly took you there.

Arriving at her place, you saw that the boys were already there, soon all of you sat around so Botan could fill them in with the lastest news she had.

You could notice Kurama looking your way a couple of times. Most people would think it is normal right? Well, not for Kurama, he is quite sneaky when stealing glances. So you had a good idea of what he was looking at.

After the explanation and discussion of what to do was done, Kurama approached you:

Kurama: y/n? What happened?

Y/n: Yeah... about that.. I tried to bake something for you guys, but I burned my fingers... and the food...

You felt your cheeks burn, you didn't dare to look at him, the whole time you stared at your fingers. You could feel his gaze and imagine the little smile growing on his lips.

He giggled. Such a sweet noise to hear, but made you even more flushed than before:

Kurama: I see... why did you get so distracted?

Y/n: Well, Botan came and she was telling me about the mission. I got too much into it and a little worried too.

He nodded while holding his laughter. He was biting his thumb to not laugh, an adorable habit of his, isn't it? You puffed your cheeks:

Y/n: I was trying to do something nice for you!

Kurama: I know, i know. I appreciated it. But I appreciate it more when you have all of limbs intact.

You whispered to yourself:

Y/n: Sorry... not like you are one to say...

Kurama: Hm?

Y/n: Sorry, I will try to not be a fire hazard next time.

Kurama: You are not a fire hazard, accident happens.

You were a bit bummed by all the situation. Noticing that you looked upset and very very embarassed about your slip up, Kurama patted your head gently:

Kurama: Cheer up, please. I truly appreciate your effort!

Y/n: I will only say " it is not a problem" when I actually get it done...

He giggled and gave you a quick kiss in the forehead before whispering to your ear:

Kurama: You are so cute, honestly.

Your cheeks burned. You couldn't help but feel a little tickle when he talked so close to you. Sadly this moment was cut right there and then, because Kuwabara"s and Hiei's little argument got a little out of hand.

A few moments later, when those two have settle down and everything was half planned, it was very late at night.

So Kurama offered to walk you back home:

Kurama: Are you feeling better?

Y/n: Yeah. I mean it's not the end of the world.

Kurama: Haha, no, it's not. I think it is a good idea to check this burn though.

Y/n: Botan did some first aid... I think it's fine.

Kurama: Even so, better take a look at it.

You hesitated. Sure it is nice, but you are no fool. He wanted to check your wound:

Y/n: It's not that bad. Is just a home- made burn.

Kurama: A home-made burn?

He giggled.

Kurama: it may be small, but it needs to be taken care of.

Y/n: I know, I know. But it's kinda late today.

Kurama: Hmm I am starting to have my doubts about the "not so bad"...

You sighted, trying to avoid it would only make him worry more. There is no way you wouldn't him to take care of you, you loved the attention! But admiting it was an another story, although he probably knew about it.

As soon as you reached home, he helped you clean and take care of the burn**. The whole time he was so careful, feather like touches and always asking if you were in pain - a gentleman!

He didn't linger around much, it was late and your parents would get mad to see him there. So when he was done and certified your wound wasn't bad, he gave you a kiss.

This you took by a surprise, you were so focused on watching him patch you up! He giggled at your surprised and flushed face, said good night and left. Just like that.

You sighed again, sometimes spending time with him was a miracle. When you turned around to grab your pajamas, you saw a single red rose on the drawer.

You couldn't help but smile at your foxy boyfriend. Next time, for sure, you would come up with something nice for him!

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Thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed!

I feel like this got a little short and ooc. I am sorry!

Although i love Kurama,I feel like I am not worth writting for him. That's that make sense?

** When treating a burn, do not cover it! It needs to breath and don't burst any blisters please.

Do not apply ice or cold water either! You may use special oils and lotions on your burns, but be sure it is made for burns and read it throughly !

When in doubt on what to do, look for a doctor.

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #yu yu hakusho x reader #yyh x reader #kurama yyh x reader #yyh fluff #requests

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ghostfaey · 8 months

Text

La sparizione - chapter two

Summary: Plagued by the ghosts of her past, Riona has hidden away for centuries. That is until the call for help of a certain seer finds her and begs her to save her brother. Not knowing how her life will change, she finds her way to Volterra, directly in front of the leaders of the Volturi.

Trigger Warning: Violence, SA, blood, Death of Children, Murder, just some nasty things

<<<chapter one chapter three>>>

_________________

I try to look away from the three beautiful men in front of me. Not enjoying the way they make me feel. Taking a few steps back in order to bring some distance between us, my heart starts to feel like someone clamped their hand around it, trying to rip it out.

Only now am I starting to tune in on their conversation, laying my eyes on the brunetts hand in Aros, feeling burning jealousy in my stomach.

"Interesting", he speaks with his silky voice, making my heart drop to my stomach. "I see nothing."

I look at the human in front of him as he lets her hand go to return to his place in the middle. So she truly is a shield. Even as a human her gift is so strong that neither mine nor Aros gift work on her. I wonder if Alice can see her future. I need to ask her as soon as I get the possibility to talk to her. There are actually quiet a few questions I would liked to ask her. After all she did want me to leave so I wouldn't lay my eyes on them and find out that the bond between me and the Volturi leaders is this strong. I can think of why she didn't want me to know but I still want to hear her reasoning. She owes me that much.

Aro slowly turns around, seemingly in thoughts. "I wonder...", he begins while looking back at Edward and the girl, "Let us see if she's immune to all our powers." He glances at the blonde twin with a twisted grin on his face.

"Shall we Jane?", he asks her. I turn my eyes to the blond girl standing unbothered next to her brother. A grin slowly steals itself onto her lips.

"No!", I hear Edward yell before he tries to stand in front of the human girl. Only then for Jane to mutter the word pain before he falls down onto his knees, a painful expression on his face.

It is the first time for me to actually see what she can do. It is terrifing but also fascinating at that. Her powers can make you go through immense pain but they can not kill you. I am sure though that death would be far more gentle then the pain she makes you go through.

The brunette girl starts to scream, begging them to not hurt him. I can only assume that she is bonded to Edward. What other reason would she have if not a bond who forces her to give her own life for his. Truly she can have simply fallen in love with the vampire, but I know how mortals are. I've been one myself a very long time ago. My experiences have thaught me that though they still felt empathy, they are very selfish. They wouldn't give their own life for another, even if they swore to love someone deeply. Humans simply were created to fear death. Their body clinged to life until their very last breath. How truly sad.

My eyes start to wander back to the blonde king on his throne. He watched the whole thing in front of him with a deadly stare, looking seemingly annoyed, but I can tell by the way his eyes sparkle that he is actually enjoying the show. What a sadist, I think to myself. I don't like the thought to share a bond with someone like him. But still I feel the pull towards him, even though I know how dangerous he is, even without a gift. Caius doesn't need a special power to be seen as a dangerous being. Not only does he like to torture and kill, he is also extremly good at it. I have only heard stories about him but those were enough to almost make me shudder like a fragile human. His ruby red eyes don't miss a single thing going on in front of him. As if he is getting ready himself to get involved. It scares me how much I enjoyed to see him looking this contend. I take my glance away from him and therefor look at his brother, sitting bored on his chair, not really minding what is happening in front of him. I feel the bond making me want to put my hand onto the side of his face, caressing his cheek. The urge to make him smile is so strong that it almost hurts. I put my hand onto my chest, trying to ease the dull pain.

Slowly I start to focus again on the conversation that is happening.

"So, what do we do with you know?", I hear Aro ask.

"You already know what you are going to do, Aro.", Marcus voice echos for the first time through the room and for just a second I can feel my knees getting weak.

"She knows to much, she is a liability.", Caius speaks up. Oh how alone their voices make me weak. I haven't felt this vulrenable in a long time, almost like I am human again.

I slowly start to walk into the middle of the room, knowing that soon things will escalate.

Aro sights, "That's true."

I take a look around the room. It would be easy to escape but I start to think that maybe there is another way of them to get out of the castle. A way that doesn't involve using my gift. I feel certainly like I've gone mad to think of something like this. Staying with the Volturi after all those years I've spent in hiding. After all those years that I so desperately tried to withhold an almost normal life. It feel almost stupid to even think of staying with them, even more that I consider it a possibility.

Suddenly the tension in the room gets awfully thight.

"Felix."

In less than a second the giant member of the guard runs across the room to get to the human. In a blink Edward stands in between those two, shielding her. A fight between them starts and although I am curious to see who would win, I still know that I need to do something to stop this. Alice told me to leave and she would have never even known I was here if I didn't tell her and would simply just leave. But the situation has changed. There is no backing out now that the bonds have already formed, at least on my end. Truly the three immortals in front of me probably don't feel anything yet, they still don't know I exist. But if I leave now the pain would only get stronger the farther I'd go. Until eventually I would either return to Volterra or die out of grief. And I am sure if they get out without my help, the girl would surely let Alice know that I was here. Alice and I surely aren't as close as she believes. But she is a friend of mine. One of my only friends. I can't leave without helping them. Not now that I am already here.

I take an unneeded breath, suddenly very nervous to reveal myself. I have given everything to not get found out about by them and now I'm revealing myself voluntary. Am I stupid? Maybe. But the thought that I still can run, even after I have reveald myself to them makes me calm down about the whole situation.

I close my eyes, laying down the nothingness around me, suddenly not being only visible to everyone in the room but also letting them be able to hear my voice and smell my scent.

Suddenly everything gets awfully silent. The fight between Edward and Felix stops and I can feel all eyes on my form. Surprised as to who I am and where I came from.

Behind me I can hear a gasp escaping the lips of Alice.

"I do admit, I'm very interested to see how this fight turns out to end,", I say, taking a few steps closer to the brothers. Coming to a halt right in front of Aro. "but I cannot let anything happen to my friends. Even if I feel a little betrayed by at least one of them." I quickly look over my shoulder, taking a glance at Alice with my eyebrows raised before I look back at Aro. It doesn't take much longer for two guards to get to me, forcing me down onto my knees and holding me there. Out of the corners of my eyes I can see Marcus getting up. I can only guess that he sees the bond conecting me with his brothers and himself.

"Brother.", Marcus voice sounds almost excited. It brings a smile to my lips.

Aro looks back at him before staring again at my hidden form. My cloak is still pulled deeply down into my face.

"And who might you be?", Aro asks, his voice soft, making it almost hard for even an immortal to hear.

At this point Caius gets out of his seat as well, looking very unpleased by the sudden interruption. But it seems to me, my voice and my scent make him realize something is up.

"Reveal her face.", he commands.

I can feel one of the guards pulling at my hood, slipping it off, revealing my face to them.

Some of my coppery strands have fallen into my face, tickling my nose. My ruby red eyes flutter before I bring them up to meet the eyes of Aro.

A sharp intake of air is heard. I am not able to hear who it was, might aswell could have been myself. The moment our eyes meet I can feel the pain in my chest fade away.

A shy smile makes it's way onto my lips as I see all three of them staring at me in disbelief.

Both Marcus and Caius run over to me and Aro, standing next to their brother.

Caius glares at the guards still holding me down. "Let go of her right now.", he hissed. Both of them do as they were told, though looking very surprised. I slowly rise to my feet, brushing the dust of my pants.

"I'm very grateful, the ground was getting quiet uncomfortable. And honestly I like having a conversation with people on eye level.", I say.

"My dear...", Aro starts, seemingly searching his words. "might I ask for your name?"

I laugh. "Of course. My name is Riona Ò'Siodhachain.", I'm letting them know my full name. "But you calling me Riona is perfectly fine."

"Riona.", Marcus says my name, sounding like he enjoys the way my name feels on his tongue.

I nod, liking the way he makes my name sound.

"And you three are Aro, Marcus and Caius Volturi. I have heard a lot about you."

"Hopefully only the best.", Caius says playfully.

I tilt my head, smirking. "Oh but wouldn't that be boring?" Caius looks at me taken aback. I can only imagine how interesting our relationship would end up being, seeing as he is not one to take no for an answer. I don't want to scare Marcus and Aro away. I shake my head smiling.

"Well, this is certanly not what I expected to happen when my dear friend Alice asked me for help." I say, turning around to face the pixie-like Vampire staring at me still in shook. "I must say I was rather confused when suddenly you desperately tried to get me to leave Volterrra after almost begging me to come here. But I think now I know why. Though I still would like to hear what you have to say."

I cross my arms over my chest, raising my eyebrows at her. Edward has made his way over to the human girl, pulling her into his side in order for protection. I glance at the human who has been starring at me the whole time since I revealed myself.

Edward himself looks very confused. Of course, he doesn't remember me from the last time he saw me. I made sure of that.

"You wanted to keep her away from us?", Caius hisses at Alice. In a second he is at her side, holding her by the neck. "I should tear you apart for even trying to keep her away from Volterra, from us."

"Alice!", the human calls out, scared for the vampire girl.

"Riona, I know what you think and it isn't like that.", Alice tries to explain. "You were in hiding for so long, you have given up anything in order for them to never find you. In order to have a peaceful life. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you."

So I was right. She did mean no harm. Of course not, Alice has always been a friend to me. She would never do something to harm me. She wants to leave the choice up to me.

I let my arms fall back to my sides, before I step over to them in human speed. Caius watches me as I slowly get closer. When I arrive next to them I lay my hand on his shoulder, telling him to let her go. He does so, even though reluctantly, and takes a step back. I give him a smile before focusing back on Alice.

I sight. "I know you did not mean any harm. So I forgive you. But next time leave the decision up to me."

She nods before pulling me into a hug. But before I can even wrap my arms around her she is pulled away by the giant vampire guard.

I look at him annoyed. He notices and lets her go.

"So, how about we get back to what we all are actually here for. I heard dear Edward did something stupid.", I say while looking at the vampire in question.

"Indeed. Edward has revealed our existence to a vampire. Something that he knows is against the law.", Aro explains, not taking his eyes of me.

I hum. "As I thought. Well then, since he obviously does not want to kill her she needs to be changed."

Edward winces.

I tilt my head. "But you do not want to change her. Well, those are your two options. And if you still want her to be standing next to you and not laying in a cold grave then there is only one way. I know you wanted me to help with this but I cannot bring myself up to go against the law. Afterall it is only to ensure security. I'm sorry but you know what has to be done."

"And so it will be.", Alice chims in. "Bella will be one of us. I've seen it. I change her myself."

She takes a few steps forward, taking her glove off. Aro almost reluctantly takes his eyes away from me to look at Alice, extending his hand. The moment Alice lays her hand in his I have to look away in order to not let out a jealous hiss. This feeling of jealousy deep down in my stomach is completely new to me and I do not know how to handle it.

"Mesmerizing. To see what you have seen before it has happened", Aro speaks. His hand lets go of Alice, stepping closer to Bella.

I watch him carefully, trying to not give away how much more uncomfortable every step he takes in her direction makes me feel. I glance away and instead look up to see Marcus watching me from afar, a soft smile on his lips. He probably knows how uncomfortable this whole situation makes me feel. The bond between soulmates is really something extraordinary. I look to the right to see Caius back on his seat, his eyes on me. Wearing a scowl on his face but I know it isn't meant for me, much more for the current situation. He grows impatient and so do I. I am certainly not happy with Alice. Not because she tried to leave me in the dark about the bond but also because of how foolish she was to actually think I would help them escape just because they didn't want to go by the laws. None of us get a special treating. This is how it is suppose to be. Truly the Volturi might have been a little harsh in a lot of situations, beheading our kind way too easily without much consideration. But then again if no one would go through with our rules there would be chaos.

"Your gift will make for an intriguing immortal, Isabella.", he whispers, his face close to hers.

I clench my fists, causing small rips to form on my knuckles. He licks his lips as he turns away. His red eyes ripping away from her fagile form. "Go now. Make your preparations."

"Let's be done with this.", Marucs groans out before slowly standing. "Heidi will arrive any moment. Thank you for your visit."

"We will return the favor but I would advise to follow through on your promise soon. We offer no second chances.", Caius mutters.

Aro returns to his place in between his brothers whereas my friends leave the room almost running, being lead out by two guards. I look between them and the kings before I make my decision to follow them.

"Leaving us already, cara?", Marcus soft voice asks behind me. I turn around looking at his face which wears a smile to hide his dissapointment. I smile back at him.

"I will return shortly, I promise. I just want to have a word with Alice.", I let him know. "Besides, I'd rather let you enjoy your meal in peace. I will find you here once I'm done."

I turn around, then run after my dear friends. The smell of the so called Isabella still lingering in the air makes it easy for me to follow.

The three of them are brought into one of the guest rooms so they can wait there until the sun will go down, making it easier for them to leave the castle.

I slip into the room with them just before the guard can close the door.

"That was truly and utterly stupid, I do not know how you are not already dead by now.", I call out while pulling Alice into my arms.

Alice chuckles. "Well, technicaly seen we are already dead...well, most of us."

I let go of her, holding her by her shoulders, my face serious. "This isn't a laughting matter Alice. You should be glad the Volturi decided not to behead you. I'm not sure if I would have helped you in there."

Her smile fades from her lips. I let go of her shoulders and turn away to meet Edwards eyes.

"And you! How could you be such a coward to actually think you could go through with keeping her a mortal. I understand that you share a bond with her, but today you almost got her killed." My anger is now obvious for all of them. They have been foolish and I need to let them know that whatever they do they have to never go against the laws of the Volturi ever again.

"Do you understand me? You were lucky today but next time maybe not so much anymore. Next time your actions will cost someone their life."

If I would still have blood runing through my veins, my head would be deep red now, my heartrate rising. But I am no mortal.

Edward first seems taken aback, then curious. He looks at Alice, obviously reading her thoughts on me.

"I apologize for my actions. I understand that they have cost you a great deal.", he speaks. I raise my eyebrow, not understanding what he means.

"Your freedom?", he explains. So he truly thinks my anger was all about the lose of my old life? Oh what a fool to actually think of me as such a selfish being.

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter anymore. I will figure out this situation for myself." I say, my eyes boring into his. "What I wish of you all is to return to your home and prepare yourself on the coming change of young Isabella."

"I'm sorry but I really don't understand what is going on. Can it not wait?", the mortal speaks for the first time directly to me. A pityful smile lays itself onto my lips as I look at her fragile form. How sad. She would have been able to live a normal life. Marry, have kids, get old and eventually die. Now all of this has been ripped away from her. And here she stands, not even understanding the devastating situation she is in.

"No, it cannot. I'm sorry it came to this. You should have never been exposed to our kind. But we cannot change what has already happened. And now you will have to live with the consequences. For all eternitiy."

#twilight #volturi #twilight fanfiction #the volturi #volturi fanfiction #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #newmoon #breaking dawn #fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight fandom

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radama-zard · 1 year

Text

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 17 - Weakness

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FCG & Laudna

Weakness.

It was something Laudna understood well. She could feel it within every inch of her body, amazed some days that she could even find the strength to walk. There were times when Laudna honestly believed that she had the constitution of a wet tissue, and that maybe that was an insult to said wet tissue.

Death had already claimed her twice. How upsetting it was to know that she didn't even have the strength to cling to life. The first time she could excuse, she'd been young and naive and had yet to have seen the true cruelty of the world,

The second time though… Well, that had been an issue.

Slaughtered in battle as motivation, (Strange how she had never once been killed for herself, as the main target of one’s bloodlust. Always a death for another to see, a corpse left as an image of macabre horror.) and then trapped within her own memories, all helpless and so very weak.

Laudna wondered if the guilt of having to be saved would ever leave her. All the Hells had risked their lives to save her, had put her resurrection above everything else. Yet she hadn't even been able to lift a finger to help them.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Weak.

“Laudna?”

A pressure on her shoulder. A hand? Yes, a hand. Fresh Cut Grass’ hand, to be exact. He was looking down at her… had they been trying to get her attention for a while? How long had she been sitting in front of this fire, zoning out instead of watching for danger?

There was the guilt again, strong as ever.

“Apologies, FCG. It seems I'm a little out of sorts tonight. Why don't you go rest? I can take the rest of the shift myself, it's the least I can do for spacing out on you like that.”

“There's no need for that, I'm happy to keep on going. I was just… worried about you. You looked real upset just now. Are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?”

Ah. Now she’d gone and worried him. The last thing Fresh Cut Grass needed was stress, the poor dear was already so prone to it and spent far too much time fussing over everyone else's problems, they didn't need hers added to the pile.

“I was just a little lost in thought. Nothing much to worry about. Are you sure you don't want to rest? That was a pretty nasty fight earlier today, you took quite the beating and I don't think I quite remember you healing yourself like you did the rest of us.”

Laudna watched as the automaton withdrew his hand, now wrangling them both together as they rocked back and forth on their wheel. A little wobbly, actually. That was concerning…

“I ran fresh outta healin’ juice. Don't worry though! A good stasis and I’ll be right as rain come morning! I'm more worried about you. You've been awful quiet recently, since we, well, got you revived and all.”

If there had been someone watching this exchange, they may have found it equal parts hilarious and exasperating. Both parties clearly burdened and yet refusing to share it out of fear of burdening the other. Both ridiculous and exhausting.

Yet there was no one to watch this.

There was only Laudna and Fresh Cut Grass, by a burning fire and surrounded by the sleeping forms of their little family.

“Death’s a little exhausting,” Laudna countered with a weak smile. “I'll be alri-”

Cool arms surrounded her, as wide eyes flickered down to find Fresh Cut Grass now attached. Hugging her, she quickly realized, and wow did that hit her hand and fast with some serious feels because suddenly Laudna was clinging onto them like he was the only rock for miles and the rushing torrents of her emotions were screeching to pull her down, to drown her down to her very soul.

“... It's okay not to be okay, Laudna,” he whispered, as though struggling to believe those words for themself too. “Everything has been so much lately. It's like we just keep on gettin’ pummeled down and right as we jump on up we're struck down again. It's… it's a lot. Maybe even too much. And if- if after everything you're not doing okay, then you're allowed to say it. I know I'm- that after I went all murdery that I'm not really someone that anyone would wanna confide in- and that's fine! I don't blame ya! - but you can talk about it, can cry about it, whatever you need! I can wake Imogen for you if that would make you more comfortable…”

Tears welled, all thick and black and inky, threatening to fall any second. And fall they did, leaving dark trails behind and ruddy little pools and rivers on Fresh Cut Grass’ head and back.

“Hush now, dear,” Laudna croaked on out, voice already a raw and wavering mess of heavy, pure emotion. “I trust you, Letters. We all trust you… and I-” her voice hitched, barely fighting back the sobs she knew were coming. “I just- I feel so, so… weak. Pitiful. Useless…”

And that was it for Laudna. The gentle stream of teariness burst forth into full blown sobs, only muffled by the mess of wires atop her friend's head. For how long she cried, she didn't know. It certainly felt like a long time by the time her body finally calmed down, shuddering sobs slowing to that ugly, gross sniffling after a good long cry.

Not that Fresh Cut Grass seemed to mind any of it, as he continued to pat and rub her back, and offer the occasional ‘There there’, ‘I’m here for you’ and ‘I got you, Laud’.

“I- I’m sorry for all that. I've made a terrible mess here…”

“Nonsense. No need for sorries. I'm metal, remember? A light water and I’ll be good as new!” he assured her. “Do you feel any better for that? A good cry is good for the soul!”

“I… I think so. I certainly feel less heavy, I believe.”

“That's good! I think that's what it's meant to do. I wouldn't know myself. I wasn't built to cry.” Fresh Cut Grass tapped at his lenses, as though to prove the point. “... And Laudna?”

“Yes?”

“For what it's worth, I don't think you're any of those things. You're not pitiful, you're not useless, and you're not weak. I think you're more powerful than you give yourself credit for, and to keep on goin’ after everything you've been through, and with a smile none the less! Well… I think that's pretty strong.”

There came those tears again, and there wasn't a damn thing Laudna could do to stop them.

“Ah! I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong?!”

Laudna shook her head, a wet laugh bubbling forth as she did.

“No, no. You're just… That's very sweet of you, FCG. Thank you…”

Honestly it's just what she'd needed to hear right now. Just a little reassurance that, despite everything, she wasn't as much of a burden as her mind made her out to be.

That maybe, just maybe, she wasn't all that weak after all.

#dungeons & drabbles #drabblewrimo #critical role #fcg #laudna #FCG & Laudna #angst #time to make Laudna cryyyy #Puppet Pals #day 17 - weakness #Dungeons & Drabbles 2022

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA

It's curious.

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is.

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos.

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

And yes, you tried to slip by for this one.

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye.

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?"

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but—

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut.

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit."

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?"

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information.

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.”

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.”

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting.

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.”

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height.

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces.

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed."

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder.

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well.

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me."

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts.

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this?

This is too good.

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions."

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that."

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride.

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest.

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you."

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.”

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left.

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet.

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss.

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this.

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything.

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin.

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this?

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—”

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name.

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.”

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it.

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.”

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones.

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate.

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part.

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.”

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away.

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit.

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly—

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands.

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here.

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.”

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him.

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.”

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages.

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin.

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever.

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

#we out here #yeehaw #my writing #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #ct-7567 #captai rex #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw

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mohluskiepedard · 4 years

Text

Rating ATLA Characters literally only from what I’ve seen in fandom

or: posts that probably shouldn’t be on my writeblr except I don’t have a sideblog

the context here is it’s half midnight and I have never seen ATLA except I have opinions now apparently so here we go whoop de do-

I’m also not actually rating them like numerically that’s too much work i’m just stating opinions I know I’m a fraud

AANG

- A child? - A son? - he is Baby. but also. he has had It Rough - would make the updog joke - has unspeakable power or smth and everyone says he’s better than the Korra girl who comes after him but honestly tastes like sexism to me - doesn’t kill people because he’s like twelve, right? he’s like twelve so he refuses to kill people - I stan honestly - less twelve year olds should kill people - Some people say his name WRONG and they are BAD but i don’t actually know what the right way or the wrong way is so. have fun w that yall - lived in peace unTIL THE FIRE NATION ATTACKED

KATARA

- She is also like twelve??? - Is everyone here twelve - Cortana?? Katana?? Catbug?? - She has good hair, - Her mother is dead??? her mother is dead n she has a brother but she cares about her mother being dead WAY more than him (or apparently the entire fandom??) - Badass - She seems soft. good. sweet - she’s a water breather or whatever??? her brother is NOT but he is a meme - I love her

SOKKA

- NGL looks like a fuckboy - The meme brother! does not do the water things, but he has an aXe??? - dates BAMF lady - ngl until I talked to my ATLA watching friend I thought he canonically dated Zuko - kinda mad he doesn’t - I haven’t actually seen anything about him except like. in zuko ship posts and also Suki appreciation posts - joined the white lotus not-a-cult by accident??? - dark ATLA tumblr show me more Sokka posts - is his name prounounced the same way as Soccer or isn’t it I need to know - HIS FIRST GIRLFRIEND TURNED INTO THE MOON - (AND THAT’S ROUGH, BUDDY) - He and Suki are a good ship, but also, Sokka Has Two Hands

SUKI

- the BAMF herself - she says STOP in that photo but also to sexism - Rlly all I see of her in fanon is abt her teaching Sokka to drink his respect women juice and I appreciate her doing that but also it’s sad she never gets talked about outside of what she did for a man - I hope she has other badass moments w/o him it would suck if she didn’t - she is NOT the girlfriend who turned into the moon, she is the one who didn’t - I don’t know much else about her ATLA Fandom y’all should appreciate her more

ZUKO

- Look at him... my son... - He has a good redemption arc - he and his sister are evil lesbian and redeemed gay guy??? - has a straight canon ship but should’ve been with Sokka this boy is gay - I Want To Protect Him - That’s literally it - he has a cool uncle and his dad sucks - people ship him with Katara and I Do Not Get It that’s his sister in law except not really - “We don’t trust Zuko’s change of heart” [the next day] “so Zuko is my closest friend now,” - His dad was like “fuck up the avatar to prove your worth to me” and Aang was like “counter argument you already have worth and we should fuck up your dad” and I think that’s beautiful - he becomes the fire man and he’s very good at it - Zuko for President 2020 - in the words of myself, half an hour ago: “ I was like "that kid with the burn on his face seems like a sad but then happy mlm who needs found family" and I was RIGHT” - took too long to find a happy picture of him :( Zuko rights NOW please - His mother’s story got compared to an OC of mine and all I can say is oh no and they deserve better based on that alone - I have had Zuko for five minutes but if anything else happens to him I will kill everyone in this throne room and then myself

TOPH

- She is badass but like also will murder you while laughing maniacally? - for some reason reminds me of Nott from Critical Role, another show I Have Not Seen - Is blind but gets more out of making jokes abt being blind than she would from being able to see - “Sight is just a cheap tactic to make weak benders stronger!!!” - Literally the opposite of Aang and has killed many people?? - She Can Tell When You’re Lying. But I do not know how and Am simply mildly threatened by this - Therapist: Toph’s ability to know if you’re lying isn’t real and can’t hurt you. Toph’s ability to know if I’m lying: - She and Zuko.... buddies??? - if not they should be - tiny sad boy needs friends like toph

AZULA

- Evil Lesbian Culture - [BDG Voice] You committed a war crime! Oopsie! - took be gay do crime too literally - her and Zuko have accurate sibling writin except instead of “you ever want to murder your sibling for breathing in the same space as you,” being a Joke Azula took it seriously - okay but with a name like azula she should be the blue bender this ANNOYS me she should NOT be red bender - AZULa - AZUL - IT MEANS BLUE - She was half of y’alls gay awakenings and it SHOWS - Should have maybe been redeemed too??? Jury is out no one knows - Was she gay for Ty Lee or wasn’t she I can’t tell how much of that Audio is a joke - IS SHE ALSO TWELVE??? IS EVERYONE HERE TWELVE?? IS THIS TWELVE YEAR OLD COMITTING ATROCITIES?

UNCLE IROH

- A Good Man - Finally, Some Good Fucking [Adult Figures] - he has the tea. literally and figuratively - Ozai is like “and I will permanently disfigure my son and throw him out” and Iroh is like “What The Fuck, Ozai,” thus voicing the entire audience’s thoughts - Literally the only adult in this that I trust - I? I love him. this is all I have to say. my love for him is unending. Some1 protect this man from all harm - he’s Zuko’s uncle (and also Azula ig) but he does not seem related to Ozai. is it just a theme in this family that one sibling is chill and one sibling commits horrendous atrocities against your fellow human beings or - something happened to his son???? :((((( I Don’t Want Him To Have Suffered Like This

OZAI

- A BAD MAN - Uh Oh (stinky) - THE WORST OF THE MEN - I do not like him - Bastard man. nasty. committed war crimes and then went “but what if - get this - i also abused my son,” - I would like him to Not Be Like This - by Like This I mean present and alive - :/

TY LEE

- She’s NOT the There Is No War In Ba Sing Se lady and I don’t know why i thought she WAS but until I looked up her photo I thought that was her - She looks like a sweetheart tho - I hope nothing bad happens to her???? - talks about auras??? or smth??? let her vibe - She would talk animatedly to me about warrior cats if she was in my year seven class and I was sat alone and I would understand none of it but appreciate her anyway - if azula bullies her I’ll be :( at Azula and Azula will not care because she has Mommy Issues and therefore is slightly unhinged - She seems like that one kid with no trauma vibing at the edge of [every other kid having trauma] and not really getting it but trying her best - Is she also twelve?????? She maybe looks twelve

CABBAGE MAN

- HIS CABBAGES - fulfills my favourite trope: ordinary person repeatedly has life disrupted by the inconveniences of relying on actual children to save the world - probably has a campaign post canon for letting trained adults fix the worlds’ problems in the future - or sets up the Very First Cabbage Insurance Company - look at him. he loves his cabbages so much. you go you funky lil cabbage man

ALSO THE MOST IMPORTANT ONES MOMO

- LOOK AT HIM HE’S SO GOOD - small. fluffy. big ears - Lord Momo of the Momo Dynasty: his Momoness - a Good Boy...

APPA

- he looks so soft... - he can fly but he just does it by??? vibing through the air?? motionless??? iconic - I saw that one post about mishearing it as Abba and thinking he was Aang’s dad and he looks like he would be a good stand in dad ngl - he’s so LORGE - a chonky boy - love him

that is everyone I have heard of it and if I left someone out it’s a sign that y’all should talk about em more bc I have no clue they exist put more ATLA On my Dash ig I’ll do Legend of Korra ig maybe apparently that one has canon wlw and i love me some canon wlw

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justpevensies · 3 years

Text

The Truth Will Out

Prompt: “I wasn’t being reckless! I love her!” ~

Blurb: When Edmund saves you in battle, an argument follows because he “unnecessarily” risked his life. The truth will out as they say...

Warnings: mentions of battle and physical injury, some arguing and a tiny bit of angst but overall it has a happy ending. Quite long too!

A/N: I had this idea back in February but I never got the chance to complete it until now... and I managed to write this very quickly because I got too excited. Also I apologise for the length but there was so much to include - I hope you all enjoy it! x

It all happened far too quickly, far too suddenly.

All that you remembered was turning and seeing an enemy sword swinging for you - in the middle of battle you were certain this was the end. That was when it went in slow motion as your name was yelled. Out of nowhere, Edmund came dashing in and collided into you, pushing you out of the way. You hit the ground and turned and saw the sword go piercing deep into him. “EDMUND” you screamed - your voice echoing - as if it were only you, him and the other swordsman in the entire field.

Edmund had saved you... but at the cost of himself. As the pain surged through his body, you saw him turn to face you and in an instant you could tell he didn’t regret his action. Edmund had always promised since you got together that he would look after you but you didn’t expect it to be at this extent. His eyes fell closed and he dropped to the ground.

You reached to grab your sword and resumed fighting the enemy soldier, taking him down swiftly out of anger and distress over what you had witnessed.

Before you knew it, you were helping to drag the wounded king out of the battle field with some fellow Narnians in an attempt to get him back to the castle and save his soul.

Upon arrival back at Cair Paravel, Queen Lucy and some other medical experts managed to whisk him away. In order to leave them space to work, you remained standing in the main entrance hallway of the grand palace. Compared to the clashing of battle, everything suddenly felt eerily quiet. Compared to the grandeur of your current surroundings, you looked at your stained hands and current state and you felt so inferior and alone.

Behind you, approaching footsteps rapidly came closer. You turned to be greeted by King Peter and Queen Susan - still in full battle gear - frantically panting.

“Where is Edmund?” Susan asked. You tried to respond but the only thing that came out where whimpers and tears.

“He- They-” you stammered out.

Peter grabbed you, shouting: “Where is he?!”

You pointed down the hall and could only screech out: “Down there!”

As soon as Peter let you go, you fell to the ground in a puddle. Susan came down beside you and enveloped you in her arms. Both of you shed tears, both of you shared comfort. You both assumed Peter had ran away after his brother but instead he remained where he was. “What was he playing at?” Peter sighed out, almost sounding restless.

You knew exactly what Edmund was doing and you felt it right to be honest. If Edmund’s condition was critical, it was only fair for Peter to know his brother’s intentions. In a whisper, you told him truthfully: “He was trying to save me”.

The eldest two Pevensie siblings turned to look at you, at the same time you regained strength and managed to stand up. “What?” Peter asked before you repeated your statement: “He was trying to save me. He saw one of the enemy soldiers about to harm me and he took it.”

As far as you could remember, you had never seen Peter angry.

You could certainly reflect on times where he had been annoyed, frustrated or upset after battles or moments of crisis but the look that came upon his face was different. His eyes burned, anger and desperation seethed from within. “He was saving you?” Peter asked, seeking confirmation. After you nodded, the High King scoffed. “He- He almost died... saving you?!”

“Peter-” Susan started, immediately sensing her brother’s mood but he interrupted.

“Is he crazy?!” Peter snapped. “You’re telling me my brother could potentially die because he chose to save you?!”

As far as you could remember, you had never been angry at Peter. Slowly, but surely, that emotion was starting to build up within you.

“Yes Peter, he did”. You confirmed your statement and it was if it flipped a switch in both of you. Peter suddenly began shouting and bawling in a way no one had ever encountered before. “(Y/N) you do realise that a King’s life is on the line here? How could he be so reckless? Sacrificing himself and for what?!”

There was a line crossed and you shouted back to Peter: “HEY!”

Peter froze because this was an emotion he had never seen previously from you. “Your brother knew what he was doing, and there is no point in arguing over it now. He must have known what he was doing because I certainly do now”.

The two of you were stood toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye, with Susan lingering nearby - ready to break up any further conflict. You didn’t know what Peter would say but what he did say - in the heat of the moment - was not what you expected... and it was all that was needed to break you. He responded, with a scoff and a stubborn expression plastered across his face, “Well, if he dies, that’s on you!”

This realisation came down on you like a tonne of bricks. In your mind, the tables turned and you were convinced that if Edmund died then it would be your fault. As your lip began to quiver you took a step back from Peter, almost as if you were retreating. Peter took a final look at you before turning and walking off.

You didn’t realise how far back you were walking until Susan reached out and stopped you with an arm across your back. “(Y/N)-” she began to assure you. However, you couldn’t take it and you turned and ran off, tears of despair and guilt beginning to free fall. Susan began shouting after you but they faded to nothing, as the words and thoughts in your mind began to consume you.

When Edmund finally gained consciousness, the first thing he could make out through his blurred vision was the outline of three heads.

Towering over him, they soon became clearer and he recognised his three siblings - looks of worry and panic were across all of their faces. These were quickly replaced with relief as they all smiled at their awakening brother. Ed gave them a weak smile before they all grabbed him into a tight group hug.

“Oh Ed!” Peter whispered, a tear in his eye. “You gave us all a nasty scare, that was close!”

When Edmund finally could sit back, he looked at them all with a growing smile before he suddenly realised an absence. You were not there.

His smile weakening - he was happy to see his siblings, of course, but it was odd for you not to be there - he inquired about your whereabouts.

“Where is (Y/N)?” he asked in a low voice, it being rather husky after being asleep for a while. The other 3 Pevensies began to look at each other, none of them wanting to say anything about what had occured. Peter, especially, had a guilty look plastered across his face and when Edmund caught sight of it, he knew something wasn’t right. “Where is (Y/N)?!” He asked again, this time raising his voice. There was a sudden shift in the room before Susan looked at Peter, both of them aware that he would have to own up.

Peter shifted his gaze, hands fidgeting and Edmund started at him with a furrowed brow - he knew truly that his brother was hiding something. “I-” Peter began to stammer, “I-”, “I-”. Edmund interrupted “You what?”.

Peter knew his brother wouldn’t take anything except the truth so he spat out: “I don’t know where she is”. Edmund’s look of frustration suddenly became one of confusion. Upon looking at his sisters, he realised that they didn’t know either. “What do you mean you don’t know where she is?” Edmund queried, his inner panic beginning to increase.

For the first time, Peter looked Edmund in the eyes and what he saw was true agony in his brother. Peter didn’t want to say it but he had to: “I shouted at her. I told her that if you hadn’t taken that blade then you wouldn’t be wounded-” Edmund interrupted him again and his emotion had changed to anger. “So you told her that all of this was her fault?” Full of guilt and shame, Peter began to well up and he nodded cowardly. Nothing more needed to be said before Edmund scoffed and was out of bed, despite his wounds, and running to the door.

Peter and Lucy frantically began to shout after him but Susan grabbed their respective arms and held them back. She knew they needed to let him go. Edmund’s footsteps quickly began to fade away as he ran in search of you. He needed you.

You had buried your face in your bedroom pillow for goodness knows how long. Tears just naturally flowed and the fabric helped muffle your screams and loud breathing as you continued to grieve. The entire moment that Edmund pushed you aside replayed in your mind and every voice within your head told you the same things: “It’s your fault”.

The pounding in your heart and the echoing in your head was suddenly replaced with a pounding on your door and an echoing voice calling out your name. “(Y/N)!” You immediately sat up because you knew that voice was Edmund’s - he was shouting for you in the same tone that he had done earlier that day. He wanted to help you, he wanted to save you.

His voice continued to call your name as he banged on the bedroom door. Wiping away whatever marks of emotion were on your face, you went to the door and the sight that greeted you almost broke you. The Edmund that stood before you had a face drowned in sorrow - you could see his emotional and physical pain and part of you could almost feel it. As soon as he saw your equally distraught face, he immediately fell into you and embraced you as tight as he could.

Kicking the door shut with his foot, you let the water burst through and sobbed uncontrollably into his chest. For the entire ordeal, Edmund just continued to soothe you and comfort you, whispering words of love into your ear. “My love, you’re alright - we’re safe. We’re all safe”. At that, you paused to look up to him, and were met eyes overflowing with love, yet stained with sadness. “Oh Ed, I’m so sorry” you whispered with a broken voice. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs softly pushing away any tears that fell. “I’m so sorry for what’s happened. I didn’t mean for this to happen to you. I-”. Edmund shut you up by pulling you in for the deepest kiss he had ever given you. By the time you both broke away, you were both breathless.

With one hand on your face, he grabbed your hand and held it against his heart. There was a change in Edmund’s stature and tone, his voice was now affirmative and he stood tall, almost as if he was ready to address a battlefield full of troops. His eyes now burned with passion and love, and this was unlike anything you had ever seen from him. “My love, I’ll tell you something right now”. He remembered what Peter had said and he wanted to tell you the truth. “You don’t need to say sorry to me - I’m sorry for what you’ve endured today. I did what I did because I wanted to save you - I love you, I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I always said I’d love and look after you. That was my intention, and if something happened to me then that’s on me. I love you and nothing will change that, in life or death. You’re irreplacable to me”.

Those last few words were enough to make you want to cry with joy... but you didn’t. Instead, you just looked at Edmund as his words began to mend your heart and heal your wounds. The look between you both radiated nothing but devotion and, at that, you returned his kiss.

After your reunion and amendments, you both returned and strolled into Edmund’s bedchamber - hands clasped together - and were greeted by the 3 remaining Pevensies. All of them immediately stood up as you both walked in, faint smiles beginning to grow on your faces.

Peter stepped forward, “Well I see you found each other”. You & Ed looked at each other and you nodded at the High King. Your voice full of courage (with a hand squeeze of encouragement from Ed) you calmly responded: “Yes, we did”.

Peter went to apologise but before he could say anything, Edmund got there first. “You don’t need to say anything Pete. None of you need say anything about what happened today. I can tell you one thing, I wasn’t being reckless. I love her”. The King and Queens all looked stunned - never having heard Edmund say anything like this before - and when they knew he was serious, they all slowly began to smile.

You looked up to Edmund and he, too, began to smile. You knew he was serious and that this was the truth. Between the two of you, there was nothing but love.

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

I'll Be Seeing You {2}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

A/N: Enjoy a surprise chapter a couple days early, we’re just too excited for y’all to read this story.

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 2336

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was making her rounds as the sun set outside of their desolate war camp.

It had been a long day, one filled with losses. After the ambush two days prior, their tent had become full. Now, there were far too many empty beds.

It never became easier.

With every soul that she attempted to heal that passed from this world to the next, she felt like a failure, even though it was impossible to save every soldier that had been injured in the heart of battle.

There were victories, though.

Those who were left in the tent were improving.

The ambush had brought in nearly fifty injured soldiers, and just over twenty of them remained.

Including Corporal Cassian Nazari, who she was walking up to now, a glass of water in hand.

He blinked a few times against the light of the guttering candle on the table, but after a moment his eyes settled on her. Settled, but still glazed with pain.

“Nurse Nesta,” he said, voice rasping from sleep, attempting to resituate himself in the uncomfortable bed, with one good arm. “Is it time for my sponge bath already?”

She sighed through her nose and closed her eyes, resisting the urge to rub her temples.

Most men in the infirmary were polite, respectful, grateful to be taken care of, especially knowing what befell their fellow soldiers who hadn’t been quite as lucky as they were. The first day she’d attended to the corporal, she’d assumed his inappropriate comment about foreplay had been some sort of unintended joke, something he hadn’t been able to control as he awoke.

But as Cassian slowly healed, Nesta learned those little comments were quite regular for him. And when he learned that they made her blush, or even snap at him occasionally, it only made him say them more frequently.

“I’ll give you a bucket and a sponge and you may help yourself,” she quipped. “Does that interest you?”

He laughed, quietly, but winced as it seemed the simple shaking of his shoulders brought a bout of pain. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked.

“You joke with me,” Cassian said, shrugging a shoulder. “You joke when you’re in a good mood.”

“I don’t joke,” she replied. “I only give back what is given to me, even though I do it in a far more appropriate way.”

“There are worse things than being inappropriate,” Cassian promised her.

Nesta simply shook her head. “Here.”

He took the pill from her palm and took it, swallowing it with the glass of water she gave him. For a moment, his eyes closed and he sighed, deeply.

“How are you feeling today?” She asked, sitting down in the chair next to the table. He opened his eyes and she reached out to feel his head. He had been feverish the night before, and she was worried about infection setting in.

He was just as clammy as he’d been, if not more so. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, but before she said anything, she wanted to hear it from him. Even if she was fairly sure it would be a lie laced with male bravado.

“Fine,” he replied, though he attempted to sit up with one arm again and winced. “Like I could get back on the battlefields right now.”

Rolling her eyes, she stood. “Too bad that won’t be happening yet.”

She strode for the medicine cabinet in the center of the tent, aiming for an antibiotic strong enough to stave off the infection. His own inability to keep still had led she and Madja to band his fractured arm to his side, but this kept the bullet wounds on his back from airing out. It was about choosing the lesser of two evils with this man it seemed.

Last night, they’d elected to set his arm. Tonight, it seemed he’d go back in the sling and she’d see what needed tending to on his back.

“Are you allergic to penicillin, Corporal?” Nesta asked, coming back to his cot.

“Not that I’m aware of, but I have a feeling that we’re about to find out for certain,” he noted, chuckling, then breaking into a cough fit.

“Alright,” she sighed, and pulled him fully into sitting position. “It seems you still have a fever. I’m going to give you this penicillin. Then, I’m going to take off your bandages and clean your wounds.”

“And then?” he asked.

Nesta blinked, hesitating as she a needle with the drug. “Pardon?”

“After you clean my wounds, what will you do?” Cassian asked, that sly smile remaining. “Because I have a few ideas-.”

“Corporal,” Nesta interrupted. “I am here to heal you, and nothing more.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “First of all, it’s Major, actually. It’s been years since I was a corporal. Secondly, I thought we could play a card game. What was it you were thinking?” Nesta’s cheeks heated and she ignored his pointed question. “My apologies, but Private Hale said—.”

“He knows nothing, which is why he’s only a private.”

She cleared her throat and held out her hand, letting him take the two pills in her palm. He did so, without any commentary, which Nesta took as a blessed relief.

She retrieved the sling his arm had previously been in, as well as fresh bandages, an ewer of fresh water and a bottle of antiseptic.

And a bit to put between his teeth in case the pin became too unbearable.

With a few tugs on the knots tying them together, Nesta unwrapped his arm from his body, not taking a full look at his back yet.

Almost immediately, Cassian tried to stretch out his arm, which earned him a chastising look from Nesta. “It’s tight,” he defended.

“If you move it too much before it’s had time to set and heal, tight will be the least of your worries, Major,” she replied, carefully tying the two ends of the fabric sling around his neck. “Not to mention your shoulder is still too weak as well. Do you want to dislocate it again?”

He grumbled something that sounded similar to No, ma’am, and sat still while Nesta settled his arm into place.

Once she tended to his arm, she prepared herself to examine his back again.

“This isn’t going to feel good,” she warned, taking in the angry, red skin puckering the edges of the wounds. They’d been able to retrieve the bullets while he was unconscious, but they weren’t in the most ideal and clean conditions for a healing to take place. Gently pressing her fingers around the mildest looking one earned a hiss and sudden jerk from Cassian. As well as puss, far more puss than Nesta was expecting. “I’m going to have to clean these out.”

“Can’t you give me more of that stuff that put me under and do what you need to do?”

His words weren’t unkind, but the tone… Nesta knew he was in pain.

She could, of course, but the powdered pain killer was much stronger than what she’d already administered. Not to mention is much, much shorter supply. It was reserved for surgeries, mostly, or life-threatening injuries.

An injury like the major had been brought in with at the time.

Not for a standard, but nasty, infection, unfortunately.

War was unfair, Nesta decided then. She’d known it for quite a while, watching good men die for their lands, but it was evident in that moment as she looked at the man’s ravaged back before her.

“Unfortunately, no,” she said, at last. “But I promise to work quickly.”

He gave her a curt nod and braced himself.

The alcohol burned, she knew that, she knew that it had to feel like fire was being lit to the surface of the skin, but as she poured the alcohol over the wound and began to clean it, the only sense of pain that Cassian showed was his rigid posture.

“Bear with me,” Nesta muttered, beginning to rebandage the wound.

“Got any whiskey?” he asked.

Despite herself, Nesta snorted. “No, I don’t. Is that your drink of choice, major?”

She was trying to distract him, trying to make the time go by just a little bit quicker as she worked.

“Usually,” he said, and huffed. “Every now and then I like to order a simple lager.”

“Lager,” she repeated. “What a luxury.”

“It has been a while,” he agreed.

She worked in silence for a few minutes, having to go so far as to scrape out the bits of skin that were too far gone and only likely to slow down the healing process. But when his breathing became ragged as she started on the worst of the wounds, the one right near his spine, she asked, “What’s the first meal you’re going to have when you get home? What have you been dreaming of since you enlisted?”

Mindless chatter, she reminded herself, was just as effective as a painkiller.

He was quiet for a moment, only hissing as she pressed the alcohol-soaked rag to his back. She had accepted he wasn’t going to answer when he softly asked, “Don’t you mean if?”

She was suddenly very thankful that she was working on his back and was unable to see his face. Playing dumb, she kept him talking. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Don’t you mean if I get home?” He asked. His voice was hollow, lacking the warmth it usually did when he spoke. It was unlike what she’d started to grow accustomed to. “This is a war we’re in the middle of, ma’am.”

She cleared her throat, continuing to work. “I think you ought to change your manner of speech, major, or you’ll be more likely to conscribe yourself to believe the worst.” Pressing a clean bandage to his skin to staunch the bleeding, she asked, “Now about that meal, sir?”

Surprising her, he laughed, quietly. “I guess I haven’t thought about it too much. My mother used to make a mean pork roast. With carrots and potatoes. That would hit the spot right about now.”

Nesta couldn’t help but lick her lips at the thought of a nice, hot, homemade dinner. “How about dinner rolls?”

Cassian hummed. “My mom used to make the fluffiest dinner rolls. She used to make me roll the dough. I hated it, until it was time to eat them.”

She smiled to herself. “My sister Elain loves to bake. She makes this pear crumble…” Shaking her head, she sighed. “It’s the best. Especially when she whips cream to put on top.”

“I don’t remember the last time I had a warm dessert,” he admitted, wincing as she applied antibacterial cream to the wounds. Turning to glance at her, he amended, “Actually, I don’t remember the last time I had a hot meal.”

The words hurt Nesta’s heart. The food they had in the med camps weren’t great, but she was sure they were better than rations the soldiers were issued.

“Tell me more about your sister,” he breathed, clearly needing the distraction while she worked.

Nesta sighed. “Which one?”

“How many do you have?” he asked.

“Two,” Nesta said. “Couldn’t be more opposite of one another. Feyre, the youngest, would rather spend her time painting, or outdoors in the woods behind our house, while Elain prefers to spend her time baking, or in her garden.”

Cassian nodded, thoughtfully. “And you?”

“What of me?” she asked, beginning to rebandage his wounds.

“What do you prefer to do with your time?” he pushed.

Nesta’s hands slowed. She wished she had more time to fill as of late. “I enjoy reading, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” he asked, then chuckled.

“What’s so funny about that?” Nesta asked, eyes narrowed at the back of his head.

“You either do or you don’t,” he said, shrugging, and wincing from the simple motion. “But, you suppose.”

Nesta scoffed. “Fine. I enjoy reading.”

“What manner of books?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Romance.”

He snorted. “Of course. Let me guess, a knight in shining armor, coming to rescue a damsel in distress?”

Nesta’s cheeks heated as his guess was nearly spot on of the plot of one of the tattered, well-loved books she kept in the small bag she brought with her from home. “And what’s so wrong with a knight saving a lady who needs help?”

“Nothing,” he replied, trying to shift his hurt arm. She adjusted the sling to hold him tighter. “I just think it’s a silly ideal to hold. Not everyone is going to have someone come save them.”

She was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were in a med camp in the middle of war.

“I guess you’re right,” she mused. “But I don’t see why that should stop anyone from dreaming.”

Cassian huffed and said nothing more.

When Nesta was finished, she asked, “How does that feel?”

“As good as it can,” he answered, in grumpy sincerity. “Although, I still wouldn’t mind that sponge bath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how ridiculously impossible you are?” she asked, the words flying out of her mouth before she could think better of it.

Cassian’s smile only grew. “If only you knew.”

Nesta’s chin rose as she tried to make sense of his remark, but she asked, “Can I get you anything else for the time being?” Cassian opened his mouth, but Nesta interrupted with, “Nothing that has to do with sponges.”

He laughed, quietly. “A cure for boredom?”

Just as Nesta was getting ready to reply, a cry came from just outside the tent, and her body was tensing, preparing itself. Madja’s eyes connected with hers, and Nesta’s feet were immediately in motion.

Another body coming in, caught in warfare.

It seemed he would have to entertain himself, as Nesta was once again vividly reminded that no one may ever come to save her.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t save someone else.

#snacmc ibsy #i’ll be seeing you #nessian ibsy #snacmc collab #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Final Girl

Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou & Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

And please check out the incredible fanart @lausterdomyamong created for this fic here 💕💕💕

TW blood, gore, violence, minor character death, implied non-con, pregnancy mentions, nsfw

Your lungs are burning.

You haven’t run like this in years, your thighs are screaming at you for a reprieve. With every step it feels like the soles of your bare feet are splitting open but you can’t stop, not for a single second.

You can’t stop. You can’t stop.

Keep running.

It’s dark, and you can barely see.

Stumbling like newborn foal through the thick undergrowth, tripping over the roots that catch at your feet. Your legs are scratched and bleeding, and there’s a nasty scrape along your arm from where you’d fallen and tried to cushion the blow, but you shove it all down and you keep running.

You can’t hear much over the sounds of your laboured breaths and your own heartbeat hammering away inside of your ears, but you know you must be making a racket. Branches breaking, leaves crunching underfoot as you clumsily dash through the woods - keep running, keep going.

Being quiet won’t save you if they catch up.

The loud whoops and the hyena like laughter that echo out through the trees behind you spur you onwards. Faster, you have to run faster.

This is nothing but a game to them.

“Wait- wait, just stop for a sec… do you hear that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to his bedroll, “Really, babe? The campfire stories weren’t enough for you? Do you not want me to sleep at all on this trip?”

There’s a teasing little grin on your face, not that your boyfriend can see it in the darkness of your tent. You expect him to laugh, grab you by the waist and pull you under him - make some quip about his wicked intentions of not letting you sleep a wink, but he doesn’t.

He stiffens, pushing himself back upright onto his palms, head cocked to the side like a dog listening for the faintest hint whisper of a sound.

“Babe-”

“Shh!” he hisses, and it’s more shock than anything else that has your mouth falling shut. His hand reaches across to grab yours in the darkness and he squeezes it just once. An apology maybe, or a reassurance that you’re still there with him. “Can you hear that? I think… I think there’s someone out there.”

You swallow uneasily, goosebumps prickling at your skin. If this is part of some stupid joke, you’re gonna kick him out of this tent and make him bunk with his friends for the rest of the trip. He’s never been one for mean spirited pranks, but this is freaking you out.

“It’s probably just one of the guys-” or an animal, or the wind, or his own overactive imagination. You guys are out in the middle of the woods after all.

“I’m gonna go out and check,” he whispers, pulling his hand from yours and pressing a quick kiss against your cheek. “Stay here.”

There’s a road, a long stretch of winding highway that you’d driven along for what felt like hours when you’d first arrived with your friends. There’s no possible way for you to know if you’re going in the right direction, but if you can just make it there, then-

The thick scent of smoke invades your nose and for you falter - just for a split second - searching for the source. There, maybe two hundred yards away to your left, you spot the orange glow flickering between the trees and your stomach lurches.

Dark figures flit through the clearing, maybe a dozen of them, half illuminated by the bonfire. You can hear their laughter, the shouts and drunken revelry as they party the night away. They don’t have a care in the world, and why should they? Real monsters belong in horror movies and scary stories, not lurking in the shadows of the woods.

Leave them.

The vicious thought takes you by surprise, but for one awful moment, you consider it. The promise of fresh new toys to rip apart and break, drunk and blissfully unaware, surely that would be enough to tempt them away. You’re just one girl…

(The truth, the one that sits heavy in your stomach, whispers that you know better than to believe they’ll ever let you get away.)

Your heart pounds against your ribs, your legs unwittingly slowing down. You don’t have time for indecision; it’s them or you.

If leaving them to the wolves meant that you walked away from this, if you could make it back home-

There’s a shout, a scream that rips through the crisp autumn night before it cuts off with an abrupt gurgle. A loud thud followed by a laugh you don’t recognise - one that sends a chill running down your spine. More voices, more screams. Footsteps and a splatter of something dark and viscous against the side of your tent.

There’s a hoot and a chuckle, closer this time, and you hear a sob that’s all too familiar. Pleading.

Your friend begging for her life.

“Shh, shh, shhh. Aw c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

Another hiccuping sob. “Please… p-please I don’t wanna die…”

“Kuroo-”

There’s a petulant huff, a loud voice interjecting, “s’no fun when they’re just sitting there.”

Kneeling frozen in your tent with one hand clamped tightly over your mouth to stifle your own terrified cries, you squeeze your eyes shut, not daring to draw breath.

Somebody sighs - the first one, you think. “Y’know, I think Bokuto has a point… Do you like games, sweetheart?”

There’s no response - at least not one that you can hear - but she must have nodded, because the voice continues, “Glad to hear it! Tell you what, we’re gonna play a little game, and if you win, we’ll let you go! Sounds fair, right?”

“We’ll even give you a headstart, just cause we’re nice guys! Whad'ya reckon ‘Kaashi? A minute? Two?”

There’s a short silence, filled only by the sounds of her ragged whimpering. “Two,” the second one - ‘Kaashi - decides. His voice is deadpan, smooth, cold and blunt, but there’s an underlying current of something excitable - the barest hint that he’s not quite as disinterested as he sounds. “She won’t get away.”

No.

You veer, sprinting towards the camp.

The others died while you hid like a fucking coward, too scared to do anything to help them (it wouldn’t have made a difference, but you should have tried) you can’t do this again.

You can only imagine how you must look, a strange woman sprinting out of the woods, barefoot, your nightgown torn and filthy, blood streaking your skin. You can pinpoint the moment that they catch sight of you, one of the guys doing a double take and jerking so badly he almost falls off the log he’s perched on. “What the fuck?!”

Another turns, eyes wide and gaping, “Dude, she’s fucking pre-”

“RUN!” you bellow, just in time to see an axe arc through the air beside you and embed itself smack bang in the centre of his skull with a sickening thud.

“Now that’s a bullseye!” Bokuto hollers, maybe thirty feet behind you and gaining quickly. “Didja see that, Akaashi?”

Screams erupt from the other campers, scrambling frantically to their feet as their friend collapses lifelessly to the ground, blood still spurting gruesomely from his wound.

“Don’t go gettin’ cocky now, the night’s still young,” Kuroo drawls, swinging his baseball bat - the dark wood flecked with dried blood, rusted nails crudely hammered through the barrel - experimentally through the air a few times. “And last I counted, I was still two up on you.”

There’s no time to humour the fear that rips through you like wildfire. You grab the nearest camper - a girl not much older than yourself, staring wide eyed and trembling at the body in front of her - and yank her forward with you. “Run,” you hiss again.

The others scatter, drunk and clumsy - a split second too slow.

A boot lands on the fallen tree stump, its owner springing gracefully over it. Akaashi’s machete gleams in the moonlight, sweeping gracefully like an extension of his arm as he slices downwards. Blood sprays, drenching his front, and another body falls to the ground - this one missing half a face.

It’s brutal. Chaotic.

Ruthless.

You can’t look back, you can’t help them. The girl is screaming at you, yelling words you can’t hear, trying fruitlessly to tug her wrist out of your grip, but you don’t relent. You don’t slow down, not even as dread fills your stomach and tears burn unshed in your eyes. You can’t help the others - not as Kuroo’s bat comes swinging out of the darkness, tearing flesh and muscle from bone, not when Bo yanks his axe from his victim’s head with a foot planted on his chest, immediately giving chase to another with a wild grin, not when Akaashi’s machete, slick with blood, cuts through her friends like butter - but you can save her.

Just one person-

“Kitten, come back and play!” Kuroo shouts after you with a sickeningly fond chuckle.

- so long as you don’t stop running.

The camp is eerily quiet, even the crickets have stopped. You have no idea how long ago they left to hunt down your friend, how long you’ve sat, sobbing in silence, too scared to breathe, waiting to see if they’d come back.

Your friends are dead. Your boyfriend is dead.

You don’t realise how badly you’re shaking until you try and move - almost falling flat on your face when your arms give out. They’re gone, but every noise, no matter how muted, feels deafening and you try not to flinch as you drag yourself towards the mouth of the tent. You don’t have time to prepare yourself for the carnage waiting for you across the camp ground, you can’t think about the fact that people you love have been torn apart and murdered while you cowered away frozen in fear.

The grip you have on your emotions, your sanity, is fragile, but in your terrified hysteria, you understand one very important thing - they could come back at any moment, and you cannot be here when that happens.

You cannot stop and cry for your friends, you cannot afford to break down when you see their bodies hacked up and scattered around you - you won’t even look - you just have to take the car keys fisted in your right hand, get to your boyfriend’s truck and get the fuck away from this nightmare as quickly as those wheels can take you.

Crawling on your hands and knees you slowly pry open the tent flap, biting your lip and wincing at the quiet hiss of the zipper.

The cold night air hits you like a slap in the face, but it’s nothing compared to the overwhelming coppery tang of blood that settles on the tip of your tongue as you breathe it in. You bite down on your whimper, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your leaden limbs to move - you can’t afford to stop now, you have to get away.

You won’t look, you won’t look, you won’t-

“I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself.”

Ice douses your system, your heart lurching. Your eyes shoot open, darting towards the source of the voice - there, leaning calmly against the thick trunk of a tree only a few feet away from you is a man. Tall and slender, with dark hair and delicate features, you’d probably go so far as to call him pretty if it wasn’t for the blood splattered garishly across his pale skin and the teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Absolute terror renders you helpless as he pushes away from the tree and takes a single, calculated step towards you. “Kuroo and Bokuto won’t be long, they’re just finishing up with your friend.” His pretty smirk widens as your eyes well up with tears and a gasping sob finally rips its way free from your chest, “but I don’t think they’ll mind if we get started without them.”

You’re following the well trodden path, praying to god that it’ll lead you back to the road, to any kind of safety. The shouts and screams behind you died out a few minutes ago, but you can’t let yourself think about what that means - it’ll only slow you down and you’re so close.

“Wait, wait, stop! We ha-have to go back!” the girl cries, trying once again to pull you to a stop. “My friends-”

“I’m sorry,” you pant, glancing across at her - and you are. Her eyes are wide and terrified, swimming in a pain you know all too well. It’s selfish and cruel, and it’ll tear her apart just like it has you, but if you let her go now… “It’s too late for them, we need to keep-”

“Baby, you know you can’t hide from us!”

Bokuto. Your heart seizes just as the girl shrieks, and you risk a glance over your shoulder, slowing just a faction.

They’re closing in, all three of them, less than twenty yards away.

Panic and desperation bite at your nerves - you can’t let them catch you, not now, not when you’re almost free. But your body is aching, your muscles on fire and your stamina is shot to pieces. You’re on your last legs and they know it. They don’t even have to run anymore, they’ve worn you down completely - it’s a miracle you’re still standing.

And it’s childish and petulant, but you just want to scream and cry and yell and beat your fists against the ground because it’s not fucking fair!

You were so close.

Your grip around her wrist slackens just a touch, and the girl takes the opportunity to rip her hand free from yours. You expect her to run, to flee like a bat out of hell and leave you crumpled in the dust, but instead she turns to you with a withering glare, “This is all your fault. You brought them here. You did this.”

The accusation hits you like a slap, but before you can even open your mouth to protest (she’s not wrong, you know she’s not wrong) she grabs you by the shoulders and with all the strength she has left, shoves you back in the path of your pursuers. You stumble from the force of the blow, not expecting it, and for a moment you feel yourself start to fall, instinctively curling in on yourself to protect your belly-

Strong arms catch you before you can hit the ground, pulling you against a warm, muscular chest. “Gotcha,” Kuroo breathes, his tongue darting out to lick at the blood splattered across your cheek.

Vaguely, you register Bokuto’s low, furious growl as he launches forward, his axe raised high. The sharp, piercing screams are cut off quickly - violently - as he buries it in her neck with a snarl. He swings again and her head tumbles clean off to bounce across the forest floor, but he keeps going, swinging again and again and again until her body is nothing but a bloody, mangled mess for the animals to scavenge.

Your vision blurs, and it takes you a moment to realise that it’s tears welling up in your eyes as Kuroo’s hands run up and down your sides, drifting protectively across the gentle swell of your stomach. “You did good, kitten,” he coos, Akaashi and Bokuto coming up either side of you. “But it’s time to come home now, don’tcha think?”

A hand cups your cheek, drawing you to meet Akaashi’s twisted, lovesick expression, “Gotta reward our pretty little girl for playing her role so well,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the delicate skin.

“Maybe we can fuck another kid into her,” Bokuto adds with a grin, his previous rage all but forgotten, sated along with his bloodlust thanks to the butchered corpse lying a few yard away. His golden eyes, half lidded and burning with lust, flicker across your face for just a moment, drinking in every last drop of crushing defeat and despair before his lips crash down on yours in a savage, bloody kiss.

This was nothing but a game to them - one you never had a chance in hell of winning.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere akaashi x reader #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere kuroo #yandere akaashi #yandere bokuto #tw blood #tw violence #tw gore #tw implied noncon #tw murder #my writing #tw pregnancy #hhhh it's 4:45 i hope y'all are happy #i'mma go sleep now

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killerskillercaptain · 3 years

Text

Applause

pairing : Levi Ackerman x Reader

wc : 1.8 k

themes : the ceremony honoring Levi's squad (including you) after the reclaim of Shiganshina went wrong, angst, hurt, comfort.

warnings : angst and hate

A soft light drenched your silhouette standing in front of the mirror. Inspecting yourself, you flatted out any crease on your long army jacket while arranging the collar of your shirt. You stood there staring at the image reflected to you : you looked put together, but your face still reminded you of everything that happened just days ago. Retaking Shiganshina didn't feel like a victory at all. With all that was lost, there was no praise, no glory, no nothing, only a bitter sweet sense of accomplishment, more torturing than satisfying.

You looked at the bags under your eyes, at the cuts lacerating the side of your face, even though you've been granted enough sleep and medical care to recover, you were still exhausted, and you could still see that dark cloud veiling your eyes, images of hell still flashing in front of you.

You heard a small knock on the door of the quarters you have been assigned to. It was time to go, the ceremony was about to start.

You shouted a weak but audible "yes" before heading out of the room. When you opened the wooden door , you were met by two even more tired eyes.

Levi

"They're waiting for us"

You walked side by side in the sumptuous corridors, you were in the capital and inside this part of the walls, everything looked so lavish that you felt out of place. You didn't exchange any word for a long moment until Levi broke the silence by asking if you were able to rest.

"Not really no"

By the way he stayed silence after you answered his question, you understood that it was the same for him.

The reason you weren't able to rest was the anticipation, no, the dread you felt in regards to this ceremony. With the suicidal charge Erwin commended causing the death of so many soldiers, both young and older ones, all of you who had survived this, felt sick to your stomach, you were all eaten by a sentiment that vastly resembled guilt. You, the rest of Levi's squad and Levi himself being the ones always coming back alive started to sound like a bad sonata to the ears of the population, they would rather see their sons, daughters, cousins and husbands coming back rather then the ones who always manages to make it, so eventually, you were expecting the worst to come out of this ceremony, and you felt that this honoring event was gonna put you all on an unwelcoming spotlight.

Approaching the great doors of the ceremonial chamber, all of you hesitated to to enter as the guards invited you in.

-----

You were totally right, the moment the heavy and palatial looking doors opened to welcome you, you were met by very concerned looks. Soldiers and other various members as well as government big heads were undressing you with disapprobation, you felt your heart tighten, all of you already felt horrible enough that you cursed those blaming looks for adding more weight to your already busted shoulders.

Levi's name was called first to be given his medal, impassive as usual, Levi climbed up the stairs to where Historia stood solemnly, each one of his steps followed by a horrible comment directed at him, sometimes in a low voice, sometimes not.

"How come they're always the one coming back"

"Yeah, nothing ever happens to them how come ?"

"I bet they throw the young recruits and the less competent ones right into the titans mouths so they can protect their lives"

"I guess they don't put their lives on the line so much to be able to always come back in one piece".

"This is Levi, he can take on anything, heh, must be nice to be invincible"

Some of the comments being whispered were down right nasty and they were all directed to Levi.

Of all the people, the captain was the one to whom was directed the messiest of remarks. Everyone knew he was the strongest soldier alive, and they hated him for this exact same reason.

Seeing how Levi manages to stay composed and be able to dismiss these comments made your heart ache, you realized he must have heard them so many times to be able to ignore them like this. You knew the captain, you knew that he actually cared but had to learn not to, you felt bad realizing that this became familiar to him.

You felt so bad for the fallen ones, your heart was still mourning them to this instant but you couldn't possibly describe how gut wrenching you felt seeing Levi having to bear all the weight of the culpability people unrightfully put on him.

You clenched your fists, closed your eyes and told yourself that it was going to pass, like all the other times.

You haven't been this targeted by hate yourself, but now you were put on this unwanted pedestal and everyone could see who were the usual lucky ones, and you could feel yourself being put on the the condemning spot as it was your turn to be called and climb those cursed stairs.

You kneeled before Historia, feeling her hands ghost over your head as she put and secured the medal around your neck, repeating the same careful but solemn gestures for the second time.

"They don't deserve the medals !" shouted a particularly angry red haired youngster.

More whispers could be heard now from different parts of the ceremonial room, enough to fill the spacious chamber. Small groups started forming, their chatter was now all you could distinguish. Some were agreeing while others were quizzical, you could hear the people's subtle judgements but all you could feel was your hands becoming sweaty and an incredibly uncomfortable heat, filling your head. You already felt bad enough, you already felt undeserving enough, you already felt guilty enough, why did they have to be so-

do they not know what war is like ?

"This Arlert recruit shouldn't have been the one to be saved ! Levi's duty should have been to keep the commander alive !" spat the red-haired young man, emotion seemingly making his blood boil.

You could only stand where you were at the top of the stairs, looking at this seemingly unsatisfied and outraged human, making you doubt every single choice you made back there, you wrapped your hand over the medal holding it tightly, trying to ground yourself.

"Enough !"

It was Levi who spoke this time, putting a hand over the boy's shoulder, understanding yet firm enough for the young soldier to turn around and face the shorter man.

"A lot of tough decisions had to be made back there, if there's anyone who wants Erwin to be present with us today more than anyone, it's me."

You felt yourself trembling listening to the captain instill some sense of understanding to the soldier who seemed to try and contain his rage, even if he didn't look convinced with Levi's words. He seemed to have already judged you all as guilty.

"It wasn't an easy choice to choose Armin, it was an even harder decision to let Erwin go, but his woman out there, you say she doesn't deserve that medal, maybe, maybe none of us do, but she and all the others faced hell back in Shiganshina and had to make the toughest of choices. You're still young, but if you ever make it, you will be met with the same inconceivable decisions we did, so the least you could do is show some respect."

Levi ended his speech with a firm tone that made everyone observe a ponderous silence and just like that, every person in the room understood that the talk was over.

Soon everyone made their way to the great halls, you were informed by some subordinates that honorary soldiers would be awaited at the great dinning hall, this news made Jean and Connie start chatting vigorously about how this was the least they could do for them, both of them trying to cheer Armin up, the poor boy looked beaten down and quite affected by the guilt tripping going on in there some minutes ago.

He wasn't the only one affected by what happened in the ceremonial room, you were still trying to calm your beating heart and your pounding head, still feeling quite light-headed. The crowd, the heat, the mischievous and unforgiving gossiping, even though the ceremonial chamber was one of the largest space you've seen, you felt almost claustrophobic in there, surrounded by so many people who blamed you all for getting a chance to live longer. Your already blood-shot eyes were all watery, they stared watering when the ceremony got interrupted and you could swear Levi noticed it when you were heading towards the halls because he kept looking at you directly

"I'll be back, i'll go breathe some fresh air outside" you waved at Jean, Connie, Armin and the others, Levi had long disappeared from your view and you didn't see which direction he went so you assumed he was with Hange.

You turned around and took the opposite direction of the hall, where there were two massive gates. They were opened on an incredibly well maintained garden. When you sat foot on the marbled path you were met with gigantic and well kept trees, all sorts of trees, with even more gigantic walls guarding the property. Each wall had an impressive amount of lush greenery drapped all over them.

You walked to the wall that was the further away from the gates and stood there, your back against it. And right there, once you were sure no one would observe you, you let it all out. Within seconds, you felt heavy damp pearls making their way through your burning cheeks before landing everywhere, your shirt, your jacket, your leather boots, the soil beneath you. You weeped silently, your head suddenly empty from being too crammed seconds ago. You were ready to weep some more if it wasn't for a light touch that brushed you.

Levi was standing by your side looking at your burnt cheeks, swollen lips and red eyes.

"Don't let it get to you" he said.

"Your guilt doesn't justify their anger" he added, resting against the wall. "Yes they're angry, that's what wars do, they stir anger, pain and resentment. Everything humans don't like to be reminded of"

"Let's honor their death with the decisions we will make" he added putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, at which your heart fluttered a bit to your own surprise.

He pushed himself off the wall, hands in his pockets and headed for the gates as the familiar smell of food being cooked started filling the air, only here, even the food smelled expensive. You followed Levi into the hall, walking by his side as he silently invited you to. Heading for the dinning hall, you felt a great amount of solace being in his presence, and right now, he would never know how thankful you were to have each other's shoulders to lean on when the whole world was up against you two.

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nebulousfishgills · 3 years

Text

Our Reality

("In Reality," Part 2)

Request by @cuddleluv : can you PLSSSSSS make a part 2 to the “in reality” ff 😩 I’ve got idea for it too! so y/n moves on and yk gets a new lover (you could choose who lol) and Wanda realizes what she lost after she sees y/n with her new lover and tries to get her back but y/n rejects her because her new lover respects and loves her

Ahhhh I'm so glad part one was so well received! Apologies for not getting this out sooner, I've been just so busy and, being honest, was seriously debating whether or not to actually create a second part. But I've gotten a few requests for it, a new experience for me. So here you go! ❤

I chose your new partner to be Natasha because why not?

Warnings: Angst, feels, swearing, Natasha x Reader (just in case you don't vibe with that) fluff (from Natasha), like, one very brief mention of sexual ideas

ฯฯฯ

"Tasha, did something burn in here?" You asked, entering the kitchen with a wrinkled nose. Natasha's face poked out from the faint smoke coming from the oven, her hand fanning it away.

"Well, it was supposed to be cookies for your birthday, but I guess that's not happening." She said, her cheeks turning a little pink. You felt heat bloom in your chest at the sweet gesture. Your face broke out into a grin.

"Aww, Tasha, you didn't have to do that!" You said.

"I almost wish I hadn't; it smells awful in here." Nat replied sheepishly.

"Well, at least you tried. That's more than enough."

Your mind wandered back to the events of a few months ago and your nasty breakup with Wanda at your word choice. She hadn't even tried to make an effort with you. You were just some disposable girlfriend to her. Something to distract her.

For weeks you had wallowed in self pity before deciding to get yourself back out there again. Slowly, sure. And you certainly weren't going to prey on a down on their luck possible partner for food and fucks. You were bigger than Wanda in that sense, at least.

After yet another failed date, you were walking home with your heels in your hands and dirt on your feet. You could keep your head held high and look around more.

Someone grabbed for your bag and started running off with it. You screamed after them, calling for someone to help. You were running out of breath not long after, ready to say goodbye to your possessions when the thief was suddenly knocked down. A woman with bright red hair had punched him in the face and sent him to the ground with a roundhouse kick. You approached her as she picked up the bag.

"Is this yours?" She queried.

"Y-yes. Thank you." You replied.

"No problem. But..."

"But?"

"Well, I saved your purse. So it's only fair we get coffee later." The redhead smirked at you. "Unless you would rather not."

"No, of course. It's the least I can do...?"

"Natasha."

"Natasha." You repeated. "The coffee place around the corner from here? Tomorrow at 9?"

"Sounds like a date."

And that's how you had met Natasha. Part of you had been worried remembering how you had first met Wanda after a bad morning. Well, having a bad evening could mean something different, you had figured. Sure enough, you and Nat had met for coffee and hit it off almost immediately. Now you both had a quaint little apartment together and you honestly hadn't ever felt happier.

Well, maybe you had been when you were still with Wanda, but those memories had soured knowing what she had really thought of you.

"Well, the cookies are a bust. How about we go to the cupcake place down the street and grab a few?" Nat suggested.

"That's the best alternative you could have suggested, Tasha. I'll grab my things."

"Okay, but I'm buying. It's still your birthday."

"If you insist."

***

"How about six lemon and six (your favorite cupcake flavor)?" You said.

"Sure thing. The order should be ready in a few minutes." The cashier said, jotting down the order and delivering the ticket to the back as Nat handed over the cash for the dozen cakes.

"I'm gonna go use the restroom, (Y/N). You can wait outside and I'll grab the cakes when I finish." Nat said, kissing your forehead.

"Okay."

The little bell dinged a few times as you exited the store, taking in the fresh air. The thought of the cupcakes made your stomach rumble the more moments passed. You pulled out your phone to distract yourself while you waited.

"(Y/N)?" A voice said from your left. You looked up at the direction of the voice and your breath immediately hitched.

Wanda.

"Oh. Hello, Wanda." You said curtly, returning your gaze to your screen.

"How... are you doing?" Wanda asked you.

"Like you care." You mumbled. Wanda didn't hear the comment, standing in silence for a moment.

"Okay, (Y/N), I have the cupcakes." Nat said, coming out of the store with a lavender box in her hand.

"Thanks, Tasha." You said, pecking her lips. Maybe this was petty; Nat wasn't big on PDA, but Wanda was standing right there and... it was too good to pass up.

"You're... Dating Nat?" Wanda asked.

"Yes. And?"

"...nothing, I guess."

"Exactly."

Wanda seemed to notice the box in Nat's hand (the redhead analyzing the conversation carefully so she could pull you away if need be), reading the label on the lid.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, testing the waters. You inhaled sharply, turning on your heel to face Wanda.

"I would have been more surprised if you had actually remembered my birthday, all things considered. It's not like you cared anyways.

"(Y/N), wait--"

"February 16th, Wanda. That's the day you were born. That's right, I actually put in an effort to remember." You snapped.

"I... I... Y/N, listen, I--"

"Oh, here it comes. Wanda's Pity Party. Well, go ahead. Say what you have to." You folded your arms and stared at Wanda like a mad bull. The brunette bit her lip and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

"I... look, I realize that I was being wildly insensitive and I should never have strung you along like that. I understand that and I deeply apologize. I was hoping that we might be able to move past this and... maybe be friends?" She said quietly. At this, you had to laugh.

"Friends? It's gonna take a lot more than that to even get close to friends, Wanda." You said haugtily. Then, you finally sighed. "I appreciate at least a small apology, though. But I don't ever see myself forgiving you."

"Y/N--" Wanda reached her hand out, but you batted it away.

"If you ever try to touch me again, I swear to God I'll--"

"Y/N, sweetheart, I think we should go." Natasha intervened before things could get worse. You glared at Wanda before walking back over to Nat and allowing her to place an arm around your shoulders. You glanced back at Wanda when you both started walking away. She looked crestfallen standing in the middle of the sidewalk. As much as you wanted to feel bad for her, you couldn't. Choosing to put on a brave face while you wiped your tears, you pulled out one of the cupcakes from the box in Nat's hand.

It was still your birthday after all. You would at least try to make it a good one.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, cuddleluv (and everyone else who had been asking about it)!

As always, requests are open, so send them in!

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wandas-sunshine · 3 years

Text

Strike Three

Summary: Everybody makes mistakes. Your first mistake was telling your family that you were seeing someone when you were just as single as ever. Your second mistake was asking Pietro to fake a relationship to keep your family off your back. Well, maybe that wasn’t such a mistake.

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

You didn’t have the best track record with relationships, you knew that. Even if you didn’t know, your family would have made damn sure to inform you. You knew they only fussed so much because they loved you, because they wanted the best for you. But they were such a headache sometimes.

You were going bonkers now. Your mother was becoming overbearing with her insistence that you needed to hurry up and settle down, and your sister was positive that she could handle the whole thing for you. She herself was engaged, so your mom agreed that she probably knew how to steer you back down the proper path.

And maybe it was the exhaustion of hearing them try to arrange a good relationship for you, or maybe the panic of listening to your sister talk about her new coworker (who was a very impressive man, don’t you know?), but for some reason, you went and said something so painfully stupid.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

That was nearly a month ago, and your entire family was pestering you for more information. You felt bad avoiding their calls, but you were bluffing and you had barely gotten out of that conversation alive. Your sister was bringing her fiance to Christmas, so of course that meant you were expected to bring someone as well.

Avoiding conversations about your nonexistent boyfriend was growing difficult. You’d been holding out hope that you would find someone by the time the holidays rolled around, but no luck. A real boyfriend would have been ideal, but your frantic attempts at finding someone to play the part also yielded no success.

You had of course contemplated faking a breakup, but that would only further their idea that you couldn’t handle your own love life. You had dug a hole that you just couldn’t climb out of.

So with one week to your family’s Christmas gathering, you were sitting on your best friend’s bed with your head in your hands.

“I am so royally screwed, Wanda. Stevie is going to force me to go out with some accountant or one of Adam’s firefighter friends, and my mom’s gonna make me marry him. Then what?” You wailed. She laughed, finally looking up from her phone.

“Who’s dating an accountant?” Pietro’s voice made your complaints die on your tongue. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. With him standing there having heard about your pathetic predicament, you couldn’t help the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.

“(Y/N) apparently. If they don’t find a date to Christmas with their family.” Wanda answered him. You groaned again. “They told everyone that they have a boyfriend, and now they have nobody to show.”

“I’ll do it.” He offered so nonchalantly that it took a second to process. Then you’d sat up so fast that you got dizzy.

“For real? You’ll do it?” You clasped your hands together in a silent plea, and Pietro shrugged.

“Why not. Text me the details,” He left you shouting your appreciation after him as he made his way back to his own bedroom.

A week passed by, and you had confirmed your plus one. You kept the information you shared minimal, just giving his name and saying that you hadn’t wanted to say anything until you were sure he’d be able to come. You were nervous about the whole thing, a whole list of things that could go wrong playing on an endless loop in your head as you tapped against your steering wheel.

A few moments passed before he finally came out with his suitcase in hand. Three nights at your parents home with your sister, and your friend who you’d somehow coerced into pretending to date you seemed like a nightmare. But Pietro’s presence was calming. He sat his bag in the back and settled into the passenger seat. He had the brightest smile on his face.

He buckled in and sorted out the music as you started on the drive back to your childhood home. The quiet between the two of you lasted a while before he broke it.

“So what’s our story, cupcake?” He smirked and turned the music down, looking over as you spared him a confused glance.

“Our story?”

“Yeah, you know. How we met, how we got together. The story we’re gonna tell our kids one day.” Your stomach flipped. What were you getting yourself into?

“Um, I guess we met through Wanda,” You started, keeping your eyes on the road and gripping the steering wheel tightly so you didn’t have to focus on how strange the whole conversation felt.

“And I saved you from some drunk creep at a party,” He started. “I took you to iHop-”

“And we’ve been together ever since!” You finished with a laugh. It was mostly true, everything he mentioned had happened, just not exactly like that. It made you feel a little better knowing that you weren’t lying to your family, just...rearranging the truth.

“See, baby, we’re gonna be just fine,” The sound of the pet name flustered you much more than you were willing to admit. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat.

“Okay. But if we’re gonna make it, there’s gotta be rules.” You warned him. He motioned for you to go on. “Rule number 1; No saying I Love You. Rule Number 2; No kissing. Not under any circumstances. And Rule Number 3; No catching feelings.”

“Easy peasy,” He chuckled. He didn’t understand why you were so paranoid. There was no way he was going to let them set you up with one of their awful picks for you. No, you deserved better than that. So he’d follow your rules, and he’d save the day if it killed him.

The rest of the drive consisted of him playing music, and the two of you joking around like nothing was any different than it had been from the beginning. But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart stuttered when he’d jokingly call you by those stupid affectionate names, or the way your cheeks burned under his attention. The tension and worry lingered, thinly veiled by his stupid knock knock hokes and classic rock.

It was mid afternoon by the time you pulled into your parents driveway. You were helping Pietro unload the boatload of presents you’d brought along for your family when your older sister came racing out of the house. She squealed and bundled you up into a tight hug like you hadn’t seen each other in years.

“You brought a boy,” She noted as she stepped back, hugging herself against the cold. You bit your lip and nodded a little.

“Stevie, this is Pietro. Pietro, my big sister Stevie.” You stepped back and glanced at Pietro. He had the most dazzling smile on his lips, one that made your stomach flutter. And Stevie certainly seemed charmed enough.

“So you really do have a boyfriend. I was beginning to think he was fake,” She teased. You and Pietro shared a look and he seemed to be barely stifling his laughter. You glared, a silent warning to keep his mouth shut. “They barely told us anything about you. I can see why they were keeping you a secret, if I didn’t have Adam I’d be stealing you away.”

“Well, good thing we’re here for a couple of days. You guys can get to know everything about each other. But can we pretty please get this stuff inside before it gets nasty out here?” You begged, readjusting the armful of gifts you’d grabbed. Pietro huffed and took them easily.

“I can get them, don’t worry.” He insisted. You hesitated a little but he was already following your sister inside. So you grabbed your bag from the back and closed the car up to join them inside.

Once you walked in, you were met by the smell of baked goods wafting out the door. You kicked your shoes off and set your bag down by the stairs. Your family had already stolen your boyfriend- fake boyfriend- by the time you slipped into the kitchen.

“Your favorite kid just got home, but all you care about is the new boyfriend, huh?” You teased, sliding up to hug your dad, then your mom. Pietro sort of liked the way it sounded when you said that. Boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t really the boyfriend, but it was a nice thought.

“You didn’t tell us he was so handsome,” Your mom chided, giving your shoulders a squeeze. Your face flared hot and you glanced at Pietro.

“Don’t worry about me. Your family is great, they’re already trying to feed me.” He smirked. Truthfully he seemed oddly comfortable in the role, but you were glad he wasn’t freaking out. Of course for the sake of not having to date someone with a stick up their ass. But the fact that he was giving you his usual laid-back grin didn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you two go up to your room and get settled in. Dinner will be done soon. (Y/N), your old room is all set up for you two.” Your mom cooed, turning back to the food she was working on. You glanced towards the stairs.

“He’s sleeping in my room? With me?” You asked, glancing between faces. You were used to sharing a room with your sister on the holidays and whatever guys you brought along were usually put into her old room. You supposed that changed now that she was properly engaged.

“Well duh. Adam’s sleeping in my room when he gets here.” Stevie answered. You gave a tiny nod. Made sense. You grabbed your bags and nodded for Pietro to follow you upstairs. He gave a smile to your family and let you lead the way to your bedroom.

Once the door was shut, you groaned and leaned back against it. Once again you were asking yourself the same question. Just what had you gotten yourself into. The idea of pretending to be in love with Pietro was one thing. But now you’d be sleeping in the same probably too-small bed for three nights. That must have been crossing some sort of line. You could sleep on the floor. It was hardwood but you were pretty sure you’d survive it. Or maybe you could take turns.

“Piet, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t think they’d put us in here together.” You sighed. Pietro was too busy perusing your room to really think too much of it. There were still a few pictures decorating the back of the door of you and your family and friends. A couple band posters were left up, and there was a stack of books in the corner. “But now that Stevie and Adam are actually engaged...I’m sorry.”

“Chill, it’s no big deal.” He sat at the edge of your bed and you nodded. It was nice seeing him settle so easily into a space that used to be strictly yours. You supposed it wasn’t so bad to share it with him.

The evening passed much faster than you had expected. The worst part was dinner. Your future brother-in-law had shown up which helped to ease some of the tension. But nevertheless your family was all over Pietro. He reached over and gave your hand a squeeze as you sat down, and you knew he’d never let you down.

Throughout the meal, he complimented your mom’s cooking. He talked about his classes, and about being on the track and field team at his college. Within minutes he had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.

The most startling part was just the way he talked about you. The way he’d just look at you for so long that it would make your throat go dry, or the way he’d beam when asked about the two of you.

“I just knew when I first saw them that no one else could compare. I love them,” He’d said. And he’d looked at you like he never wanted to look away. Your stomach did somersaults and you’d focused on the mashed potatoes you were poking at.

Strike one.

Once dinner had come to a close, you and your sister worked at clearing the table. Your mom ushered the boys towards the living room to relax while the three of you worked on cleanup. You carried an armful of dishes into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter and drawing up some dish water, but not before flashing Pietro an apologetic smile. He just winked and slipped away.

You stared into the sink, watching the suds as they foamed up. Maybe asking Pietro along was a bad idea. Your dad was becoming pretty buddy-buddy with him, and your mother seemed to adore him already. Your fake breakup was probably going to be harder for them than it was for you.

“So,” Stevie set a last stack of dishes on the counter and smirked. “Pietro is really something, huh?”

You chewed on your lip, giving your full attention to the dishes you were scrubbing clean.

“He’s sweet. And he seems pretty in love with you,” Your mom added. And just like that your heart was leaping back into your throat. Who knew Pietro Maximoff was such a good actor? And who knew you cared so much?

“Yeah, he’s pretty great isn’t he?” You smiled, a sick sort of despair clogging in your chest. “Too good to be true,”

With the three of you working together, the cleaning went by in a jiffy. Soon enough you were settling in the living room with the others. You sat on the couch beside Pietro as they all continued their discussion.

You tried not to tense up as he pulled you closer by your waist without so much as a glance. You slowly relaxed and snuggled even closer. Your head rested against his chest like it was meant to be there, and your arm found its way around him. He was warm, that was all, and he smelled nice...You were selling it, nothing more. Just selling it, even as his fingers moved to play with your hair.

“It’s getting late. You four had a long day, we should all get some rest.” Your dad decided. And with the way you were half asleep in Pietro’s arms, you couldn’t argue.

He carefully maneuvered you off of him so he could stand up. You weren’t sure when the two of you had started holding hands, but yours was clutched firmly in his, fingers intertwined as he pulled you to your feet.

“C’mon baby, you’re sleepy.” He mumbled. You nodded and said your goodnights to everyone before letting him lead you up the stairs. You slipped into your room and dug through your bag for your sleep clothes. Once you’d pulled them out you glanced up at Pietro. He chuckled and turned his back.

Once the both of you had changed, you laid yourself down, watching and waiting for Pietro to join you. The silence as he climbed into the bed was heavy, both of you deep in your thoughts and being exceptionally careful not to cross any lines or take up too much space. You were hyper aware of every breath you took, and of every miniscule brush of skin.

You did not have feelings for him. Sure he was handsome, and considerate. Not to mention how funny he was, and the way he fit in with your family better than anyone else you’d brought home. But it was cliche. He was your best friend’s brother. He was Pietro for fucks sake. Falling for him just wasn’t in the cards.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, or moving a muscle all night, but you woke up in a mess of tangled limbs. He’d slung his arm around your waist and nestled into your chest, and you had flipped your leg over his. He was warm, and you could feel his breath tickling against your neck. That alone had your heart rate flying through the roof.

You were careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed. He shifted and you froze until you were sure he’d fallen back into his deep slumber. You took a moment, just admiring him all sweet and conked out, his hair a mess and a tiny bit of drool slipping past his lips. Gross. But adorable.

You got ready for the rest of the day and slipped downstairs to find your mom and sister back in the kitchen working on a breakfast spread. You leaned against the door. You could hear Adam and your dad chatting from the living room.

“Want a hand?” You asked. Your mom smiled at you.

“We didn’t want to bother you guys. Where’s the other lovebird?”

You rolled your eyes, but it was too late to hide your smile.

“Still sleeping. I thought I’d let him catch a little extra shut eye.” You explained, moving to help set the table while they cooked. Nobody said much after that, just talking about all of the family gossip you’d missed out on while you were away.

Meanwhile, your mind was drifting to all the ways you could make this up to Pietro. You didn’t have the opportunity to think much on it as he came down the stairs.

He was still tired, you could tell. But his hair was wet from a shower, and he’d changed into a charmingly ugly sweater that clashed with his usual vibes. It was endearing, you couldn’t deny that. He moved to stand by you, arm wrapping around your waist and his hand landing on your hip.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” You teased. He laughed quietly, but then he pouted.

“You left me.” You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You just looked so peaceful. Plus I wasn’t ready to deal with you yet.” You dodged away from him as he tried to grab at you, giggling and stealing away into the kitchen again to grab the platter of pancakes. Your mom and Stevie shared a knowing look that you disregarded.

Breakfast, much like dinner, had gone without a hitch. The two of you bantered the way you always did. He stole a bite from your plate, and you took a drink from his cup in retaliation. As he finished eating, his hand found yours. You gave him a puzzled look, and he simply slotted his fingers in between yours.

The conversation lasted until everyone was finished. Then everyone was ushered to the living room for the gift opening. You and Pietro were still hand in hand when your mom stopped you in your tracks. You were about to question why when Pietro guided you to face him by your hips. Your hands pressed against his - rather firm - chest.

“Mistletoe,” He whispered. Your eyes flicked up, then back to his.You were suddenly very warm. You had rules, and this was seriously not fair. You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Both of you were fairly willing to call that good. Stevie, however, was most certainly not.

“That’s pathetic. Give him a real one. It’s Christmas, (Y/N)!” She argued. You looked at her, then back only to find that he hadn’t looked away from you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s Christmas.” He half-teased, hoping to ease some of the building tension. You thought on it, considering shattering what was left of your rule into pieces. But before your flustered mind could come to any sort of decision, you were being kissed.

You curled your hands into the front of his sweater, and melted against his lips. They were softer than you’d expected, and the kiss was much less demanding than you had thought it would be. When you pulled away, he brushed his thumb over your jaw.

“Sorry,” He whispered. You shook your head, but you still couldn’t look him in the eye. The urge to feel his lips against yours was a little too strong, and who knew what you’d do if he kept looking at you like that. You pressed your lips together like you could forget his taste.

“Don’t be.”

Strike two.

The gift exchange was exceptionally uneventful after the mistletoe ordeal. Your mind was still wading through the fog when your mom opened the last of the gifts. You were all about to sort everything out and pack your gifts with your things when Pietro spoke.

“Oh, I almost forgot something. Stay put.” He carefully freed himself from where you’d been leaning against him and headed for the stairs. You sat patiently, sharing curious looks around the room. You hadn’t talked about presents.

He only took a moment, coming back with a small box wrapped neatly in pale blue paper. You figured that was Wanda’s doing.

“Here. I don’t know if you’ll like it but…” He passed you the gift, and you smiled at him. You stared at the little box for a long moment before you finally took off the paper. You didn’t notice all the attention shifting to the two of you as you took the lid off.

“Oh my god, Pietro,” You gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth. Inside was a stunning silver bracelet with several little charms on it. You carefully picked it up and worried each charm between your fingertips. “You shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t need to. Look, this one is for that iHop trip, remember? And this one is for the when Wanda introduced us at the beach. And this one is for the butterfly exhibit you made me take you to. Oh, and this is for this trip, see?” He rambled. Tears pricked at your eyes and you giggled. You were in so deep, and the bracelet must have cost him a fortune.

“Put it on me?” You looked up at him and he nodded. There was a pause as he took the bracelet from you and fastened it around your wrist. You admired it with a lovesick grin.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke firmly, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too, Piet.” You slid your hand into his and he looked down at how nicely your hand fit into his. Like you were meant to be.

“I don’t want this to end,” He locked eyes with you again, praying that you really understood what he meant. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to build up the confidence to confess all over again if you didn’t. But he didn’t need to worry about that. You lifted your hand to cup his cheek.

“Then I’m yours forever, Maximoff.”

Strike three.

And there was so much to talk about, but in that moment none of it mattered. Not when the pretending was finally over, and you were having the best Christmas of your entire life.

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333sth · 3 years

Text

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics.

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had.

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead.

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat.

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke.

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife.

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?”

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye.

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed.

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward.

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier imagine #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier fic #francisco morales #Triple Frontier #frankie catfish morales #Frankie morales fic #Frankie Morales x OFC #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #benny miller #will miller #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia #ben miller #dove fic

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