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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏

part 5 of 💔broken family💔

summary - a year has passed, and maybe there's a chance for new beginnings.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

A year passed after your talk with Ari, and things began to change. He’d no longer treat you horribly when you dropped your son off, and you had continued going to therapy, knowing you still had things to work through. Your boss understood when you met with her for coffee, telling you to take as much time as needed. You felt happier than you have felt in a long time. It still hurt knowing you and Ari weren’t together because to you, he was still your soulmate, the love of your life, but you had no idea where he stood anymore.

You looked around your house, a final goodbye as you needed to move on from here. It was so lonely and quiet. All of your things were being packed and moved to a moving truck. There wasn’t a point in keeping a house this size if it would just be you staying there at times. You stared, remembering all the good times you had when things were happier and simpler. Little feet pitter-pattered through the empty house, coming straight toward you. “Mumma!” You quickly kneel, catching your energetic son as he clings to you.

“Hi, baby. Did you get everything?” Jason nods, and you press a soft kiss on his forehead. “Do you want to say bye, house?” He rests his head on your shoulder, turning to look at the house.

“Bye-bye, house!” He waves, and your heart feels warm as you carry him out of your old memories and toward the new. His little chubby fingers curl into the top of your pink sundress, looking at you with big eyes. “Get drink, mummy?”

You nod, “Yeah, baby. We can get a drink.” You place him into his car seat before hopping into the driver’s side and driving to your favourite coffee shop. The memories that had been formed here were… Special. You park your car, get out and grab hold of your son again. You begin to walk into the place, the smell of coffee filling your senses, causing your eyes to close for a split second. You stand in line, holding your son’s hand as he babbles about some new thing happening at school, and you listen, smiling down at him occasionally because you don’t know where you’d be without him.

“Mumma, mumma! Should see my drawing! Teacher hung it up! Is good!” He grins, his two front teeth missing from a few nights ago. The joy he felt when he realised the tooth fairy would be visiting was the best feeling to watch. He had placed his teeth under the pillow, and when morning came. His little squeals filled the room, and he ran out to show you the money. The only downside was that Ari wasn’t there to see it happen, to experience his son losing his teeth, or to see his excitement. You knew he would’ve enjoyed the precious moment as much as you did. Jason tugs on your hand, moving closer as the line moves. “Can I has the strawberry shake, pwease, mummy?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Of course, you can, baby.” A chill ran through you, a sense of deja-vu flashing before you as you looked over to the table you had first seen Ari sitting at. A spark buzzed through the air when your eyes connected with the very same pretty blues you had grown to love. He had been watching you the moment you walked through the door, experiencing the same deja-vu when he had seen you in your pink sundress. You had become more beautiful than ever, a glow wrapping around you as you smiled at whatever your son was babbling on about.

Ari smiled softly, feeling his heart warm as you smiled back. He watched as you and Jason headed to the front, ordering what he presumed would be your favourite coffee and possibly a shake for Jason, as his son loved those. Especially the strawberry, and he had been going through a strawberry phase lately.

It was as if the universe was telling you something because as you and Jason had been waiting for your drinks, occasionally looking over at Ari, who never took his eyes off of you. You could feel like something familiar was going to happen, and when you grabbed your drinks, handing the strawberry shake to your son, and were about to take a sip of your coffee. A man bumped into you, causing your drink to splash out and stain your pink sundress. Everything began to move in slow motion, your son clutching your dress with the hand that wasn’t gripping his drink and Ari standing and moving toward you the same way he did many years ago.

His hand landed gently on your hip, silently asking if you were okay before turning to the man, and the weird thing was, he had been the same man that had bumped into you when you and Ari first met, on the same day, in the same coffee shop, in the same dress. You watched with wide eyes, never moving your hand from your son as Ari ripped into the man, and when the man ran off, Ari took you and Jason to the same booth before going up and ordering you another drink. You watched him from your seat, your son oblivious, but your and Ari’s eyes connected as if you could feel the same strange feelings you had felt those years ago between you.

Ari returned with the drink and some napkins, helping you soak up the remaining coffee and asking if you were okay. Your eyes never once leave him, and Jason looks up, watching his parents stare at each other with a look he had only seen once before when the whole family was together.

You smile softly, putting your hand out. “I’m Y/n.”

And a grin appears on Ari’s face, following your action as his large hand fills yours. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman. I’m Ari.” You swear everyone could feel the sparks flying between the two of you.

“I, Jason.” Your son’s tiny hand lands on yours and Ari’s, grinning. You and your ex's eyes move toward your son’s as you both break out into laughter. Your hands come down and tickle his chubby belly. “Mummy! Mummy! Stop! Tickles!” He giggles, trying to squirm away from you, and glares at his father, who decides to join in. “No! No! You suppose to help me, daddy!”

The two of you stop, placing a soft kiss on top of your son’s head before your eyes connect again, and you smile.

Because maybe fate had planned this, perhaps this was where you were supposed to be.

Where it all began.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

this is sadly the end of the series, and I thank everyone for being with me for this ride.

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nerdzzone · 11 months

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Worlds Apart

Chapter Eight

Summary: Single mom, Bridget Clark, thought that she was fine by herself. Moving her son to a new town and out of the hustle and bustle of Boston, she thought that life would be quieter and simpler, but a chance encounter with a certain Hollywood actor only a week after their big move had her questioning everything. Bridget was faced with the ultimate decision of head vs heart, but would letting her guard down prove to be worth the risk?

Note: Just a reminder that this will be the last chapter before this story goes on hiatus. I have so much planned so I'm hoping that just a short break will reignite my inspiration, but I need a bit of a break right now. I'm so grateful for all the support that this story has received - every single comment really means so much! - and I will still be around every now and then if anyone has any questions or wants to chat!

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“You know, I always thought that really big TVs were just unnecessarily extravagant, but looking at yours I can see the appeal.”

Bridget shared her observation as she sank into Chris’ couch, watching as he searched around the room for the remote and muttered to himself about how he could never find anything after his brother had stayed with him. Dinner had been delicious and expertly cooked by Chris himself - even though he did admit that his mother had talked him through it very thoroughly beforehand and provided him with a recipe that she was sure he couldn’t mess up - and after another discussion about whether or not Bridget was allowed to help tidy up after the meal, they were settling on the couch to watch a movie.

“It felt extravagant when I bought it,” Chris admitted with a smile before letting out a cheer of victory when he finally located the remote. “But then when it was here and up on the wall, it didn’t seem quite so big.”

“It works well in this space,” Bridget agreed as Chris flopped down onto the soft cushion beside her and flicked on the TV. “So, what are we going to watch?”

“I dunno,” Chris shrugged. “You’re the guest, you can pick.”

“Oh, really?” Bridget smirked. “What about Captain America then?”

“I mean, we could if you really want to…” From the tone of his voice and the cringe on his face it was clear that it wouldn’t be his first choice and he elaborated despite her teasing tone. “To be honest, I don’t really mind watching any of those Marvel movies, but it seems a little self-obsessed to showcase my own movies to a woman I’m trying to impress.”

“It would only be self-obsessed if you suggested it,” Bridget countered. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you watch them. I’m catching up in my own time.”

“Are you?”

The surprised raise of Chris’ eyebrow at that admission had a blush rising on Bridget’s cheeks as she nodded her head.

“Yeah, I only ever saw the first one so I thought it would be a good idea to catch up,” she admitted. “But they’re a little too old for Landon so it’s taking me a while to find the time.”

“Well, that’s cute,” Chris teased, smirking as she swatted at him. “What do you think?”

“They’re good movies,” she assured him. “But I do think your costume could be just a little bit tighter. It doesn’t really give you the opportunity to show off all your big muscles.”

Her sarcastic criticism had a laugh bursting from Chris’ chest as he playfully nodded in agreement.

“That’s what I keep saying! I don’t know why they even bother making me wear a costume at all.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bridget giggled. “That would be a whole different kinda movie.”

“The Avengers: Rated R,” Chris joked. “It’s probably on the internet somewhere already.”

“Maybe we should watch that.”

The suggestion pulled another chuckled from Chris’ lips, but he quickly shot it down and scrolled through Netflix until they settled on Back to the Future - a movie they’d both seen several times, but one that could always capture their attention. However, despite the captivating movie on the screen, it took less than half an hour for Bridget to find herself getting distracted. As the movie started, they’d relaxed into the couch with Bridget ending up tucked into Chris’ side with his arm draped over her shoulder. The close proximity - and the way it allowed her to indulge in his scent and the feel of his hard, toned chest - was enough to have her thoughts drifting away from the screen, but the way he lazily traced his fingers over the skin of her shoulder had her mind truly struggling to focus on anything else.

Inspired by his touch, she let her own hand start to wander as it drifted over the soft material of his t-shirt and the muscles beneath it until it was draped over his waist. She felt him tense - almost as if he was flexing for her benefit - but he didn’t have much of a noticeable reaction to her trailing fingers until they reached his side where she discovered that the way they were lounging on the couch had caused his shirt to ride up. She was surprised at first to feel his skin, but the way his breath hitched as she brushed over it encouraged her to explore a little further.

By that point, the movie was entirely out of Bridget’s mind as she waited for him to stop her or protest the action of her hand sliding under his shirt, but when he offered no resistance she took advantage of the opportunity to continue her explorations. However, when her gentle touch moved higher up his waist and a slight shiver ran through his body at the sensation, his voice broke their silence and shattered the illusion that either of them were still paying attention to the TV.

“Bridget…”

His tone was low - her name falling from his lips as barely more than a murmur - but it was enough to have her eyes flicking up to meet his, glancing up at him from under her lashes as she bit her bottom lip. The tension between them was reaching an unignorable point, but Bridget paused any movement to make sure that he hadn’t stopped her because she’d overstepped and was relieved when Chris took advantage of the way her head had tilted up towards his to capture her lips.

There had been nerves bubbling under the surface earlier in the evening as their flirtatious and alluding conversation a few days earlier still played on Bridget’s mind, but the comfort she found in the increasing familiarity of his kiss and the air of growing desperation between them had those doubts quickly reduced to a fuzzy memory in the back of her mind. Her worry was replaced by a softly burning need inside her as her hand drifted up to cup the back of his neck. Her intention was to keep him close, but as he slid his own hand under her arm and used it to easily lift her until she was straddled across his lap, it was clear that he was feeling the same desire that she was.

She felt a flush of self-consciousness when she realized that their new position had the sundress she was wearing riding up on her thighs, but as Chris moved his hands down to stroke the newly exposed skin, he let out a groan that had a new feeling washing over her. She felt sexy. She felt desirable. And that made her feel confident enough to focus on her determination to make Chris feel the same way rather than any insecurities. She knew she was out of practice and terrified that it might show, but every time the little anxious voice in the back of her head raised its concerns, Chris would unknowingly pull her back into the moment.

The hitch of his breath as she let her lips trail down along his jaw, the way he swallowed hard as she dipped lower to trace her tongue over the beat of his pulse in his neck, the increase in the pressure of his fingertips against the top of her thighs when she gently rocked her hips against his. She was fixated on every subtle hint of approval of her actions and his clear enjoyment had her tension easing as she relaxed - especially when another roll of her hips made it clear just how much he was appreciating her actions. The feel of the sudden strain rising in the basketball shorts he was wearing was more than enough proof that she hadn’t lost her skills entirely and she broke the seal where her lips had locked onto his neck as she let out a hum of pleasure.

“That feels good,” she murmured before placing another soft kiss above the edge of the collar of his shirt as her hands slid up under the hem. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Yeah?”

Chris’ voice was low and husky and had Bridget leaning back to confirm with a nod of her head before she dipped back in for another kiss.

She could feel her heart racing and hoped that its thudding wasn’t as obvious to Chris as she plucked up the courage to put her plan into action. Their tongues clashed as their hands wandered and groped at any exposed skin they could find, but the final necessary surge of inspiration she needed came as Chris slid his hands under her dress high enough to cup the cheeks of her ass to pull her hips tightly against his own. Their lips parted as Bridget gasped at the sensation, but when he slackened his grip and chased after her mouth, Bridget leaned back and flashed him a smirk before sliding off of his lap to kneel on the floor by his feet.

Chris let his knees fall apart to give her a little more room, but there was a curiosity burning in his gaze as she stroked the hair on his thigh, dipping her fingers under the hem of his shorts.

“Can I make you feel good?”

Bridget bit her lip as she glanced up at him, waiting for confirmation as she watched him tip his head back and gasp out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he let out a long breath and agreed.

“Yes,” he nodded, lifting his hips as her hands immediately moved to pull his shorts down his thighs, taking a moment to flick the TV off. “Please.”

She smiled at his politeness, but any teasing comments disappeared from her mind as soon as he was free of his pants and she was immediately distracted by the task at hand. Her lack of recent practice floated back into her mind as she took him in her hand, but she knew that enthusiasm could make up for a lot and tried to focus on the confidence that his eagerness had given her. The way he groaned as she gently stroked him was reassuring that she hadn’t entirely forgotten how the process worked and the way his hand shot down to grab the back of her head when she leaned forward to take his tip into her mouth reminded her just how enjoyable it could be to have so much power.

Sliding lower, she stayed focused on his reactions - his grip in her hair, the twitches of his hips, the soft groans and gasps falling from his lips - but it didn’t take her long to relax into it and get lost in the thrill of giving him pleasure. She took him deep, appreciating how he never used his hand to force her movements and allowed her to set the pace as she bobbed her head up and down. She noted how he swore every time her tongue traced its way along the thick vein on the bottom of his cock and the way he groaned every time he hit the back of her throat. She revelled in the chance to learn exactly what he liked and had to admit that his pleasure was adding to her own growing arousal, only motivating her further to help him chase his peak.

Her hand moved to slowly stroke at the base of his cock as she focused her attention at his sensitive tip and in another flush of confidence, she lifted her gaze up to look at him. The sight of him watching her with his jaw slack and cheeks flushed immediately pulled a hum of pleasure from her lips and the sensation that provided for Chris had his eyebrows creasing together as he panted out her name. She could tell he was getting close and kept her pace steady as she hollowed her cheeks until his body tensed up and he found his release.

A flush of pride washed over her as she helped him through his high until she finally pulled away, swallowing before she crawled back up to curl up on the couch beside him. Her pride only grew as she took in the sight of Chris with his chest heaving as he fought to steady his breath and a blissed out look on his face, but when he recovered and cracked open an eye to glance at her with a smirk on his face, the words that came out of his mouth immediately put her on edge.

“That was great,” he commended her, letting his hand slide over his knee where it pressed against his thigh. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Despite the way her smile faltered, her words had a chuckle falling from Chris’ lips as he slipped back into his shorts.

“I know I don’t have to,” he smiled. “But I want to.”

That claim had Bridget raising a skeptical eyebrow as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Seriously, Chris, you don’t have to.”

Her insistence had Chris pausing as he turned towards her and studied her face for a moment before he countered with a question.

“Do you not want me to?” He kept his gaze steady, but Bridget suddenly found it difficult to meet his eye and simply shrugged in response. “Can I ask why?”

Bridget took a moment to think of the best way to answer his question. She could feel the heat of her embarrassment taking over from the heat of the arousal she’d been feeling moments earlier as her cheeks flushed for a less enjoyable reason, but she forced herself to work through her rising anxiety to respond in a somewhat articulate way.

“From my experience,” she started, nervously chewing her bottom lip. “That’s not something that men actually like to do and I don’t mind so you don’t have to do it just to impress me.”

She expected to see relief wash over Chris when she shared her sincere reassurance, but Bridget was surprised when her words had him chuckling.

“No offense, but I think there’s a pretty good reason why your ex maybe isn’t the best spokesperson for what most straight men enjoy in bed.”

“It’s not just him,” Bridget protested. “I met him when I was twenty-four, I did date other men before that.”

“And they all made you feel like it was a chore?”

The shock was clear in his voice and there was a look of something that seemed like disgust on his face that only deepened when Bridget clarified.

“They didn’t make it feel like a chore, they just made it clear that they weren’t interested in reciprocating.”

“So none of them ever did?” His tone was incredulous and he stared in disbelief as Bridget nodded in confirmation. “So no one has ever gone down on you?”

The blunt question had Bridget’s cheeks heating up even more as she fought the urge to run for the door and far away from the humiliating conversation as she felt the need to defend herself.

“It’s not a big deal,” she insisted. “I’m obviously not a virgin or Landon wouldn’t be here, but I will admit that my sexual repertoire is probably lacking compared to yours and I’m aware that might not be particularly appealing.”

Her tone was defensive, but as Chris recommenced stroking her thigh she knew that he really hadn’t meant any offense.

“It’s not unappealing at all, intriguing would be a better word,” he assured her. “And we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, but the offer still stands if it’s something you’re interested in trying.”

He flicked his eyes back up to meet Bridget’s and this time she held his gaze as she took a moment to think about it.

“It really wouldn’t be a chore for you?” She asked, using his own word to describe it. “You don’t mind?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Chris insisted, a smirk drifting onto his face as his hand drifted between her knees and traced a little higher on the inside of her thigh when they naturally parted. “I’d love to make you feel good, watch you squirm, get you calling out my name.”

His words sent a shiver of anticipation through Bridget as she shifted a little bit closer, giving his hand more space to explore as she stretched to hover her lips above his.

“Then I think I would like to give it a try.”

“You think?”

Chris’ voice had dipped back to a lower octave as he prompted a more clear confirmation and Bridget swallowed hard, pushing her doubts from her mind as she gave it.

“I know,” she told him. “I know I would.”

That was all the reassurance that Chris needed to close the gap and capture her lips in another kiss. His hand reluctantly slipped from her legs to wrap around her waist and any lingering embarrassment quickly dissipated as Bridget melted into his embrace giving him the leverage he needed to easily lift her back onto his lap. The need she’d been feeling earlier returned just as quickly as it had faded as the excitement of what was to come had her imagination running wild. There was a flicker of anxiety - a worry about being as exposed as she knew she was about to be and the vulnerability that came with it - but she trusted Chris. He’d been so patient about taking things slow, he’d never pushed her or tried anything to hurry things along physically or emotionally, and if she was being honest, his genuine lack of judgement to her lack of varied sexual experience had only added to her arousal.

Their tongues clashed as Bridget tried to keep her mind in the moment, but as her hips pressed against Chris’ - growing desperate for some kind of friction - she pulled her lips away from his with a gasp as he rose from the couch with his hands gripping her thighs to keep her pressed against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders tightly to stop herself from slipping, but the feel of his biceps bulging as he easily carried her weight had her letting out a quiet whimper and dipping to press her lips against his neck in a effort to distract herself from the overwhelming tension building inside her. By the time he’d moved them to the bedroom and carefully placed her on his large and very plush bed, the anticipation had the fever burning between them turning into desperation as it seemed that they couldn’t get enough of each other.

However, once Chris’ shirt had been ripped over his head and Bridget’s dress had been tossed across the room and he’d settled with his hips between her thighs, Chris slowed down their frantic actions to regain control of the situation.

“We’ve got lots of time,” he murmured into her ear as his hand ran over the now exposed curve of her waist. “I want to enjoy this.”

Probably contrary to what he’d intended, his words had another flush of heat washing over Bridget that had her almost wishing he’d just tear her underwear off of her and get down to business as the thought of him wanting to savour the moment was almost too much for her to bear. They did have lots of time - they had all night - but Bridget was already feeling embarrassingly needy for some kind of release and if Chris was going to continue being so tender and gentle about it then she was worried that she would have to start begging.

He trailed his lips down her neck, taking the time to place kisses on every inch of skin that he passed until he slid his tongue along her collarbone. The sensation made her shiver, but as he reached the strap of her bra and moved down until his tongue could trace the cup of her bra, her breath caught in her throat. His hands moved to her sides, prompting her to arch her back enough for him to unhook her bra and slip it off her body and Bridget felt her nerves rising back to the surface. She had explanations ready - excuses for why her body probably wasn’t as perky and tight as the actresses and models that Chris was used to seeing naked - but when she saw the way he was looking at her newly exposed skin, her words seemed unnecessary.

He looked mesmerized. His pupils were dark and wide, his jaw hung open the way it had when she was stroking him earlier in the evening and as the word ‘gorgeous’ slipped from his lips, Bridget truly believed him. She felt desirable. She felt beautiful. She felt wanted. And the emotions those feelings had rising in her chest had her reaching out to Chris where he knelt, staring down at her and pulling him back in for another kiss. He indulged her for a moment before she felt him smile against her lips and pull away, moving back down her body to where his trail of kisses had previously led him.

Bridget watched him, holding her breath in anticipation until he captured one of her pebbled nipples in his mouth and she gasped at the sensation. Lifting his hand to tease and tweak the other, he expertly worked her until she was practically panting as she squirmed beneath him desperate for any kind of friction she could find. He switched his mouth to the other side, but it didn’t take long for Bridget to grow desperate for more and as his name slipped from her mouth like a whimpered plea, he smiled against her skin and continued moving lower as he explored her body.

He left barely an inch of her skin untouched as his hands and mouth roamed over her stomach, making her muscles quiver as goosebumps rose in their wake. By the time his lips met the edge of her underwear, Bridget felt more appreciated, cared for and admired than she had during any previous sexual encounter that she’d ever had. She felt worshipped in a way that had her almost dizzy with pleasure until Chris’ voice helped her refocus.

“You still want this?” He asked. “You still sure?”

His breath against her skin was enough to have her biting back a moan, but after she firmly and enthusiastically informed him that she was absolutely still sure and he gently pushed his hand between her thighs to trace her through her underwear, she couldn’t hold anything back. He wasn’t even touching her directly yet, but she was so worked up that she felt like it was almost enough to make her explode. She felt his breath hit her stomach again in short bursts as he chuckled at her response, but she was relieved that he took pity on her after barely more than a moment of teasing and helped her add her underwear to their growing pile of discarded clothes.

There was a moment when she was finally fully exposed to him that Bridget felt the vulnerability of the situation cutting through her desperation. If Chris hadn’t been settled between her legs, she probably would have snapped them shut, but as he soothed the inside of her thighs with kisses she once again found that the care Chris was taking made it easy to open herself up to him.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, pressing his lips into the soft skin of the crease at the top of her thigh. Bridget felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but the awe in his voice only turned her on even more. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Bridget opened her mouth to agree, but Chris moved his lips and the feel of his tongue tracing along her wet folds left her unable to form any kind of response other than that a strangled gasp of pleasure. Much like he’d done to her earlier that day, Bridget found her fingers drawn to his hair and almost involuntarily gave him direction as her tightening grip told him every time he found a spot or movement that she particularly enjoyed as he explored with expert precision, lapping and sucking over every inch of her until she was writhing beneath him. His tongue dipped low - flexing with enough pressure to just barely dart inside her - and the raw moan that he let out as he savoured her taste had Bridget’s head falling back against the pillow as she wondered how she’d ever survived without such an experience.

She could feel herself racing towards her peak and the feeling only intensified when Chris focused his attention on the little bundle of nerves that he’d previously just been teasing. At first such direct efforts were too much, but when he noticed her hips suddenly shifting away and the sounds falling from her lips becoming a little more strained, he quickly eased the intensity of his licking and sucking until he had her back at a place where she was urging him closer again. After the long build up of her earlier enjoyment of giving Chris pleasure and his intoxicating exploration of her body, it didn’t take long for the heat to reach a boiling point and as Chris kept himself locked in position, Bridget fell apart beneath him. She cried out his name as her body tensed and her muscles shook, but Chris stayed locked in place and guided her through it. As her chest heaved, her heart raced and the last quivers of pleasure ran through her, she watched Chris reluctantly peel himself away and drift his kisses up over her hip before back up her body, bracing himself so his chest hovered over hers.

“Wow,” she smiled, letting her hands slide up to stroke the back of Chris’ neck as he watched her with a smug smirk on his face. “I think I liked that.”

“You think?”

Disbelief was dripping from the words and Bridget bit back a smirk of her own as she nodded her head.

“I think so, but I might have to try it a few more times just to be sure.”

Chris’ shoulders shook as he chuckled at her claim, but he was quick to offer some assurance.

“I could do that for hours,” he informed her, the sincerity in his voice making it sound almost like a threat and sending a shiver down Bridget’s spine. “We can try it as often as you let me.”

“That’s a very appealing offer,” she informed him. “But I think right now I just really want you inside me.”

She saw his eyes widen in surprise at her blunt request, but as the words sunk in he let out a growl and pressed his lips back against hers. She could feel him pressing against her now dripping center despite the layer of his shorts still separating them and the knowledge that he’d taken so much pleasure from what he’d just done for her was enough to light another fire in her already. The desperate, frantic way he was attacking her mouth only made her more eager as well as their tongues clashed and noses bumped and Bridget hooked her leg over Chris’ hip, trying to use the heel of her foot to push down his shorts and get them out of the way. After a moment of struggling she managed to get them to the top of his thighs, but Chris took pity on her and reluctantly pulled away from her mouth to rid himself of them completely, quickly taking a moment to grab a condom from the nightstand as well before he returned the warmth of his body to Bridget’s and settled back between her legs.

A flicker of her earlier nerves resurfaced as her recent years of celibacy made Chris’ size a little extra intimidating, but his patience shined through as it had all evening as he slowly pressed his hips forward and slid inside her inch by inch. The burning of the initial stretch had her sucking in a sharp breath that had Chris pausing, but her previous release had her more than ready and it took barely a minute for the sting to subside and for her to press herself up towards him, urging him deeper. He paused again once he was fully seated inside her and the shaky breath that Bridget let out had shifted from discomfort to one of anticipation.

“You good?”

The strain of restraint was obvious in Chris’ voice, but the soft murmur of concern had Bridget’s heart fluttering in her chest. She wiggled her hips experimentally, letting out a soft moan from how fully he had filled her as Chris groaned at the friction.

“I’m great,” she assured him, letting her hand slide up into his hair as he dipped his head down to nip at her neck. “Feels so good.”

He started off cautiously, but that was all the confirmation Chris needed to start moving his hips. Giving her time to get used to the feeling, his movements were slow and let Bridget feel every inch of him as he pulled out and pressed back, creating a steady rhythm. The measured actions had every nerve he touched lighting up with pleasure as she clung to him, rocking her hips to meet every thrust.

He stretched her out so perfectly, it seemed almost like his body was made for hers, but while it was a sensation she’d missed, the intimacy - the care he was taking with her, the concern for her comfort and pleasure, the deep connection as they shared something that left them both so exposed to each other - had been what she’d really craved and it only heightened her pleasure. He was overwhelming all her senses as he touched every part of her so deeply, but she was somehow still desperate for more as she pulled him down tightly against her chest.

She could feel his breath washing over her skin from his pants and groans as the pace of his thrusts picked up speed. Again, her previous experience had set her expectations low and as much as she’d ached to feel him inside her, she hadn’t expected to find another release and she was surprised to feel how quickly the tension was coiling in her stomach. The angle of his movements, the friction hitting nerves that she barely knew existed, the steadiness of his thrusts that allowed her peak to build, and the sounds of his own pleasure echoing around the room - it soon became too much for her to handle and her nails sunk into the skin of his back as her body tensed and his name fell from her lips with a cry of pleasure. Chris continued his careful movements as she clenched around him, but as she came down from her high, she felt his restraint weaken as his thrusts grew fiercer and more sloppy while he chased his own release. It took barely more than a few extra thrusts for Chris to cry out against her neck as his hips stilled and he fell over the edge.

They stayed connected with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room until their euphoria settled and Chris pulled out, taking a moment to discard the condom in the garbage can under his nightstand before he rolled back to pull Bridget into his arms. They stayed quiet for a few minutes - simply enjoying each other’s embrace as they relished the blissful feeling of a good release - but as Bridget gently ran her fingers over the toned muscles of Chris’ chest as she curled into his side, she broke the silence with a tentative question.

“Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”

He’d offered the other night so she was fairly certain that it wouldn’t be too much to ask, but there was a brief moment after the words left her mouth where her fear of rejection crept up again until she felt him squeezing her even tighter against his side as he quickly reassured her.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he insisted, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Bridget smiled, placing a kiss of her own against his chest as she could hardly believe that she’d been lucky enough to find a man like Chris. Six months earlier the thought of dating hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d firmly believed that she was happy on her own and that as long as Landon was happy and fulfilled then her life was as full as she needed it to be. But Chris had smashed through a wall that she hadn’t even realized she’d built around her life and with every moment they shared and milestone they passed, it was harder and harder for Bridget to imagine her life without him in it.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #chris evans smut #worlds apart

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linonyang · 1 year

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FLUTTERING CONFESSIONS.

pairings: crystal fairy prince!jeongin and butterfly fairy librarian!gn reader

genre: fluff, fantasy, fairy au, barbie: mariposa and the fairy princess au

warnings: short lowkey suggestive content (they had a kissing moment please)

word count: 5.2k words

synopsis: it took you both too long to confess, and maybe things moved quicker when you two realized you should be expressing what your heart desires already.

tag list: @awooghan @cosmic-railwayxo @xiaoderrrr @hwangsify

note: hey! another wip that i got to finish already!!! just a little warning, things do get a little faster at the latter portion of the fic. the first part really was my unfinished part (that i wrote... last year) and it’s kinda long, so i just tried to continue it! i hope it’s still good tho :D enjoy!

Supposedly taking you around Shimmervale again, Jeongin got distracted and ended up hanging out with you in your little getaway in the little library newly changed in your room.

“Mother will lecture me at dinner if I don’t walk you around the kingdom again,” he grumbles, free-falling onto your bed with his eyes closed.

Jeongin hears you answer his complaint with the sound of flipping pages, wonderfully engaging to a book you haven’t read yet back in Flutterfield. “You mean fly, your highness? I am very familiar with Shimmervale already, Jeongin. It’s not a requirement that you have to tour me around if I went here tons of times already.”

And that is his problem.

The queen always tells Jeongin to tour a guest around Shimmervale as a respectful form of welcoming them. It’s simpler compared to coping around at tea parties, but it’s something that he has to do out of respect. It would be rude to leave guests unaware of where they’re going.

“I told you, Mother’s going to lecture me if we tell her we didn’t go around Shimmervale.” Jeongin stares at the ceiling, admiring the decorations and lighting hanging around.

I didn’t know the lights here were that big for a small room!

Humming, he sits back up on your bed, poking your shoulder. “I can let you stay near the Heartstone again and call it a day if you don’t want to go around for the nth time.”

The royal family adored you right when you became a great friend of Jeongin. When you two were young, the royal family of Shimmervale visited Flutterfield for a gathering with your kingdom’s queen.

A ball began, and both citizens of Flutterfield and Shimmervale attended. When you flew there with no knowledge of the people you’d encounter—especially your parents, who did not even say who were the special guests of the ball—you didn’t know you’d befriend the prince of Shimmervale.

Every other kid who knew the privilege Jeongin held made them avoid him. The fact that he was a prince while they were commoners of their kingdom intimidated them. He felt left out, knowing that being in such a high position would always be a barrier to being a fairy like the rest of you. Meanwhile, you, who’s still learning about life and the world of fairies, shamelessly communicated with him and made him comfortable as a guest.

His parents discovered you are part of a family of marvelous professionals fairies could ever get, such as researchers, scientists, and historians. Hence, they found fascination with how you’ll perform once you grow a little older.

And they did not look down at you even once — you became an intelligent young fairy who worked at the royal library of Flutterfield during your free time. They knew you’d be as great as your family.

Thus, they thought they should bring you to Shimmervale and join Jeongin in learning. After all, you two joined at the hip — it would be best to have two great fairies in the making to study and extend your education together.

Now that the two of you graduated. You visit Shimmervale occasionally, during your short breaks, as a holiday from working in the royal library once again.

Dropping your book to your side and glancing at Jeongin, an idea came into your mind. “How about we go around Shimmervale to look at the Heartstone and the crystallites above homes?”

The source of heat and energy for the people of Shimmervale doesn’t exist in Flutterfield. Those crystals have been a long interest of yours since your first visit to the kingdom when you were young. Jeongin once picked up some tiny bits of it and willingly gave it to you as remembrance, especially since he assumed you’d never come back‌. You tried to study these glowing gems and showed them to your relatives, who took the same interest in those as you.

Until this day, with hundreds of papers and books about these crystallites for everybody to read, you still think these crystals are so special. Imagine Shimmervale without the crystallites — they’d be nothing without those. Gemstones that might be useless to others are an essential piece in this kingdom.

To Jeongin, the crystals are nothing. He learned about the importance of crystallites and assumed they wouldn’t run out of them soon for a long time already. They had an abundance of it hiding behind the GlowWater Falls.

For the past years of visiting Shimmervale, you only crossed the waterfalls, obviously oblivious to the beauty there.

Jeongin hums and nods, still considering your suggestion for the tour.

You sense hesitation behind your best friend’s eyes, noticing the subtle knit of his eyebrows and the pout of his lips. There’s something he wants to include.

Before you speak up about your small concern, Jeongin finally blurts out the question that has been running through his head. “Have you gone inside GlowWater Falls? How about we go there instead of going around the crystallites above the houses like last time?”

Pressing your lips together, you answer, “No. I know the crystals are in there, though. But are you really bringing me there?” You push Jeongin back down to your bed delicately, lying beside him. You lift his soft hands into the air, mindlessly playing with his fingers. You softly continue, “I didn’t bother getting in there because I might invade a space I shouldn’t be stepping in. So, no, Jeongin. I haven’t gone inside there.”

Well, isn’t it an excellent day for Jeongin? He finally gets to show you something new to you. He knows you’re tired of flying around Shimmervale like him. You two just do the regular touring to catch up on each other's businesses.

“How about I finally show you what’s in there?” He moves his head to the side, finding your face beside him. This intimacy has been natural, so being close like this has been a regular sight for some.

Although, Jeongin tends to hold in the erupting butterflies in his stomach. He knows you’re an absolute sweetheart on a typical day, but he can’t help but feel something for you.

Funny to say, his parents aren’t even unaware of the blushes and uncontrolled smiles on his face every visit of yours. They had long known for his admiration for you whenever he couldn’t shut up about you when you were gone.

Should he confess later, then? The king and queen believe there is a long delay in his confession, and he should do something about it. The simple thought of his parents supporting him in pursuing a relationship with a special commoner of another kingdom already reassures him that things will be fine.

Then, he will do it any time during the tour.

Or within your stay in the next few days? He’s so not sure about this.

He’ll just wing it later.

Jeongin calls out your name and ties his hand with yours, lightly shaking your hands together. He opposes your sentiment. “Going into the GlowWater Falls isn’t an invasion of privacy, by the way. Anybody can visit there!”

Your friend is trying to convince you so hard. Jeongin knows you have stepped into every place in Shimmervale except GlowWater Falls, which was weird for him.

It’s technically an attraction. Why haven’t you tried to visit there?

Your laughter fills the air, pulling his hand to your chest. You forgot for a second that Jeongin here is persuading you for an addition to the tour. His voice has given you so much comfort until the point you’d love to hear it all day without comprehending what he says.

“As I said earlier, I know it’s a personal place for you. I don’t want to invade GlowWater Falls because I know it’s like an escape of yours.”

Oh, right, he mentioned that before.

A small surge of panic moves through Jeongin. What excuse would he say about that? The only reason the GlowWater Falls was very personal is that it also reminded him of you whenever you were away.

He’ll just mention that later on.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s a comfort place of mine. I think you deserve to see what’s inside an important space like that,” Jeongin sighs out of relief. “You are my best friend, after all. You should know why it is significant to Shimmervale and me. You did your best in learning everything about the kingdom already; it’s time that you get to see a special place with your own eyes.”

Your mouth fell open. Your best friend returning the favor with that big surprise stunned you. For your past visits, Jeongin always mentioned that he stays in GlowWater Falls in exchange for the loneliness he felt growing up. He usually feels that, so you thought it was a big deal. Stepping into a place of absolute comfort could feel like stepping into private property. It’s like diving deep into his secrets.

“If that’s what you want without feeling intruded on, okay then,” you nod, giving Jeongin a half smile.

Jeongin moves even closer to you, your body touching his. He removes one of his hands from yours and lifts it to move some hair away from your face. Winking, he tells you, “You’ll have a great time. I’m very excited.”

You take in the sight of his face as he pats your head. “You were so serious every time you talked about GlowWater Falls, and then you’re joyous about it now. What has gone into your head?” you softly asked. Studying his face, you notice that he’s beaming with the corners of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkling. He must be that excited.

Jeongin hums, returning his back to your bed. “I don’t know. Maybe I just have a good feeling of being more honest with you.”

Speaking of being honest, you forgot to give something to your friend.

A flutter flower.

You promised to give him another flutter flower. It would remind him of you while you’re gone. It all started when you gave him one on your first visit, and Jeongin impulsively gave you those tiny crystals because he loved the flutter flower and wanted to give something in return. After that, you gave him a flutter flower just to see him happy and amused.

Hell, you even brought him references about flutter flowers so he could study them if he wanted. Give him another flower so he can feel your friendship's magic. You liked it to sign that your company is as powerful as that plant. You’ll always be there for him.

Pushing yourself up from your bed with your elbows, you search for your bag with the flutter flower, rapidly eyeing every corner of the room with anxious eyes. You sigh under your breath when you see the bag untouched and closed on your table.

Jeongin immediately senses the tension around your body, sitting up to check up on you. “You okay?”

You look at him wide-eyed, answering his question, “Yes, I’m fine. I thought I left one of my bags in Flutterfield.” Thank the heavens for being able to cover up your actual worry immediately.

Before Jeongin asks more about that bag, you reach for his hand. When you pull him up from your bed, he squeaks, surprised by the sudden movement. “Be gentle! You don’t want to get exiled for accidentally stretching a muscle!”

“I will not get exiled, Jeongin. Your parents have exiled nobody for a few years now!” You laugh, pulling him along as you fly around your room to grab your needs for your tour around Shimmervale.

Never forget your bag with that flutter flower!

“Oh, they’re going to do it for the first time in a while if something goes wrong,” Jeongin grumbles, feeling that slight sting on his arm from your hand. “But they love you very much, so you might be an exception if ever they’re going to — hey, _____!”

Jeongin groans as you drag him downwards to grab your shoes, your wings slightly hitting him. You chuckle, letting him go. “Alright, Jeongin. Let’s just get this over with.” You glance at him with a smile, tying the ribbons of your shoe around your calves.

“We’re leaving already?” Jeongin exclaims, moving lower to put his head around your head level. He flips around, seeing your head down as you tie the ribbon with pure focus.

You see him while you’re lying in the air, and you answer him. “Well, yeah. We have a long way to go on the tour, right? The whole kingdom and the GlowWater Falls?”

“You said a few minutes ago that you’re too lazy to leave?” Jeongin flaps his arms in the air out of exaggeration. “You said you wanted to stay here and read some books from the small library?”

On your last visit, you didn’t have a library in your room. The room reserved for you only looked utterly different until the royal staff applied the redesign to your liking. To your surprise, Jeongin was embarrassed to ask you about your preferences. He felt he was doing too much for you, mainly because he wanted you to feel at home in Shimmervale. But when he raised the suggestion to the king and queen, they were nice enough to follow Jeongin. They understood his intentions, which added to their never-ending proof that he’s absolutely in love with you.

Oh, he emphasized the library to the royal staff. He knows you’d feel suffocated with no book with you at all.

Thankfully, you arrived here last night with much satisfaction, giving Jeongin a tight hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, which the royal guards and his parents caught right at your door.

You shrug your shoulders right after you finish tying your shoe. “Eh, I’ll do that tonight and for the next few days. I think it’d be better to finish the tour as early as now. It’s still noon, anyway.”

Well, you have a point.

As payback, Jeongin playfully grabs your arm and pulls you out of your room to the palace's doors.

The hallways of the royal palace echoed with your shouts of protest, unable to catch up with the speed of the crystal fairy. You completely forgot that Jeongin is skillful with flying, perfect enough to fly quickly into obstacles and traps. Even with ups and downs, twists and turns around the palace, Jeongin has been flying around accurately. You wonder if he’s that skilled in flying or familiar with the enormous palace.

Unfortunately, rapidly flying around the palace means less time to admire the decor. The royal palace of Shimmervale is one of the most beautiful architectures you’ve seen. Walls painted with pleasing shades of pink and purple, windows of large sizes and abstract exteriors with natural light shining down on you — you might’ve thought you’re in an upgraded version of heaven.

“Can’t we slow down, your highness?” You grunted, almost avoiding one vase sitting on a table. Your butterfly wings cannot follow along, as it nearly hits one of the family paintings in the same hallway. “You know you can’t trust me with flight!”

“Coming from somebody who normally flies? And tortured me the same way earlier? I don’t think so,” Jeongin laughs, holding your hand tighter than before. “We’re almost there! We’re going for the quicker option, taking sharp turns around shortcuts and flying fast!”

Jeongin screams out of joy, loving the feeling of the wind moving past him and his wings. He is amused at how you’re still keeping up with him. You’ve been at the edge of surviving this trip. He glanced at your face: eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched.

He concerningly sighs and slows down his pace, now holding you softly. “Sorry about that,” he says, pulling you down with him on the ground and hearing you stop him repeatedly from apologizing. “We’re out of the palace now, anyway. We can fly up there and hang out for a bit?”

Your head follows the direction of his hand — pointing to the Heartstone sitting on top of a tower nearby. The narrow building is taller than the royal palace, showing the Heartstone to Shimmervale. Even far from the tower, you see the greatest crystal of the land shining against the sun.

Delighted, you nodded and flew first to the tower, gripping your bag’s strap tight. The prince follows behind, his hands around his squinted eyes to see a more clear view against the sun. The sun is shining at this hour, making Jeongin hiss at the contact with the damaging sun rays before him.

Begrudgingly stepping into the highest and only floor of the tower, Jeongin holds on to the pole beside him. Pressing his lips together, he says, “That took me a little while, and I forgot how hot it is when the sun’s up.”

“You obviously don’t go out as a child, Jeongin.” You sit down on the steps towards the Heartstone. In awe, you look behind and scowl once the brightness of the crystal hits your eyes. “And you’re probably more used to seeing crystals than the sun.”

Jeongin puffs and stomps on his way to the space beside you to move your head away from the blinding stone. “Hey, I have gone outside lots of times already. Excuse me!”

The pout on his face made you chuckle. That is one of the most common signs that he got affected by your teasing. “I’m just joking, your highness. Sit down here with me, will you?” you asked, softly patting the cold tile on your side.

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongin grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Seems like you’re the royal here. I cannot believe I’ve been doing the grandest stuff for you for years.”

He’s too late to deny it. What else has he done aside from the room renovation and the touring that made him think he’s so in love with you? So much, so much that it is so hard to count with his own hands.

Yes, his parents were right. He’s that crazy.

Jeongin laughs at himself. It’s too late to turn back, and he has to release the feeling today. He could’ve sworn that he’ll keep it in for the rest of his life.

“Why are you laughing out of the blue? You finally realized how much you’ve done for me?”

Hold on, do you know about his feelings?

You probably do.

Cursing multiple times in his head, he immediately makes up an excuse for your question, “I guess so, but isn’t that part of my role as a host?”

You tilt your head and furrow your brows. “Do all hosts hang around the guest’s room every night?”

Ever since, Jeongin consistently sneaked into your room, seeing you in any area with a book in your hands. Frankly, he grew more comfortable in your room than in his own. He had the time of his life every night in your place. Pillow fights, movie marathons, book readings and discussions, and helping each other in academics — he felt like he did so much as a friend in a few months than years of existing as a royal. Spending time with you was always a precious time of his. He’d never trade it for anything else in this world.

Even rejection. The prince is too sensitive to that.

It is comical to see Jeongin as either this ray of sunshine or a cold winter — something that will depend on his mood. Whenever he’s around you, he’s a mess. He could get as soft and sweet as a marshmallow on his favorite ice cream or flustered and red as apples freshly picked from a tree.

“Uh…” he dragged his voice, thinking of an answer. “Not all, but there are some.”

“Like you then?” you ask. “You know, it’s not a lie that you did so much for me.”

Should he insert his confession now while there’s a touching moment between them?

No, he can’t do it yet.

“That’s because you’re also my best friend, _____.” Well, that’s a great excuse, Jeongin. He huffs before continuing. “And I’d do everything for my one and only best friend.” He gets back up and sends you a warm smile.

You feel your cheeks heating from the sweet words of Jeongin. You always thought your friend was rather timid and rational, but he gets quite romantic and idealistic — especially when it’s about you.

A confession as platonic as this makes your mind wonder because of the possibility of it having romantic undertones. It makes you question whether that commitment will stay forever with the state of being friends — or significant others if things will change — which makes you slightly more determined to confess this overflowing love you feel for him.

“I’d do the same for you, Jeongin.” You reach for his hand and move your finger in circles on his palm. “I’m willing to do that again and again.”

The two of you didn’t take that long staying near the Heartstone. Jeongin was slightly overheating today — considerably, the weather was warmer than usual. Maybe Jeongin’s complaint over the scorching heat was more valid than you thought.

You two went straight to GlowWater Falls. It took you both a while because many commoners were greeting the prince on your way. Some even did the same to you. Those commoners have seen you with Jeongin throughout the years — “Are you two together?” as the usual conversation starter, making your heart beat faster.

The prince heard this question behind your back. It made him snicker several times. There was this rush of confidence when fairies finally noticed his affection for you through your frequent visits and tours around Shimmervale City. Not that he implied he does like you to that one kid who asked him the same question, but it satisfied him enough that citizens have noticed his growing care for you. He’d love to let the people know he’s in love with a butterfly fairy who’s inarguably esteemed and adored in their home.

When he finally brought you past the vines and leaves to the waterfalls, he can’t help but look at you. Your eyes are as shiny as the surrounding crystals, your light feet bringing you around, your hands playing with the small body of water nearby, and your head spinning to look at the stones above — a beautiful sight. He might admit that you can beat the crystals’ magnificence.

“I cannot believe this.” You pick up a rainbow rock near the pond, “I’m here.”

You widen your eyes at the sight of the rocks in your hand. “These are iridescent! So beautiful, I haven’t gotten myself one of these.” All you’ve kept were the crystals the prince gave you.

“I always thought of giving you one, but I thought it’d be nice if you discover it once you visit here and play along with it.” Jeongin picks up a few pieces from the grass and throws one on the pond, making it skip in the water in different colors.

Unconsciously, you cover your mouth out of shock. You steal one from Jeongin’s hand to do the same. “That is so cool. You should’ve told me it does something on the water. I think I never noted that.”

His fondness never fading away, he tells you, “It’s a surprise, _____. There are things I don’t want to spoil.” He giggles when your smile drops. “I just want to see how you’d react when you find out about something new, that’s all.”

“Just to tease me until my death, I’m guessing,” you grumbled. The crystal prince grins and pokes your shoulder, “Nah, I genuinely wanted to surprise you. Do you really have to make everything seem like a foolish act from me?”

“Yes, because you have been such a tease for all of my life,” you replied. In return, you also poke his torso, making Jeongin shriek and almost trip. You laugh and mumble, “You deserved that.”

“Though, do I deserve your love?” Jeongin mumbled. He can almost hear his parents’ words in his head. If you’re going to confess, make sure that you show how dedicated you are to declare your love.

He’ll never forget how the king shared how bold the queen was when she tried to steal his heart from other royalties. He thought it was a coincidence that his parents also met at a ball. She pulled him into the air to dance for the whole night. Jeongin wishes he was as courageous as his mother. The love of his life is already with nobody, yet he can’t seem to be straight to the point.

You could not notice your friend’s words by playing with the rainbow rocks. You look at him and ask, “What did you say?”

Jeongin lifts his head from the ground to ask, “If you like someone, would you rather keep it or say it?”

You cannot help but tilt your head. “Say it. Why would you keep an intense feeling for someone? You don’t have to give a show just to confess. As long as your words are straight from your heart, it’d best to say it.” If only you could laugh at your answer, you would’ve done that right after you said it. You can’t seem to follow your advice.

“What’s the matter? Do you like someone?” you asked. You suddenly toy with your bag strap to wonder what it feels like to be liked by the prince of Shimmervale.

Love makes your body mess up. Your heart beats faster over the idea of confessing to the Shimmervale prince. Your stomach aches out of nervousness whenever you finally have that chance to declare your love. Your hands sweat when he lays his hand on your shoulder. Your mind gets blank whenever you remind yourself how frequently you return to Shimmervale for Jeongin. Anything that has to do with your desire to be with Jeongin, you mess up and hold yourself back.

I’m going to do it, I have to do it. Jeongin scratches his head, “Yes, I like someone.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “It’s leaning towards love, but yes. I love someone, that someone being you.”

Well, so much for being dedicated. At least he was straight to the point.

“I planned to confess to you so many times already, but none of them seem to work, and I chicken out every time,” Jeongin pushes your dropped jaw up and holds your hands. “Even if I thought I was going to mess up again when I finally get to bring you here, I guess I have succeeded, ‌right?”

Your short-circuiting brain makes you freeze on the spot. You thought of bringing out your gift that you’ve been keeping away from the boy with hopeful eyes. You drop your hands from his grasp and open the flap.

“Here’s something to tell you that,” you pull out the flutter flower from the bag and hear Jeongin gasp, “I feel the same way. Also, I’ve been trying to let you know, but I never found the right timing.”

It’s Jeongin’s turn to freeze. His eyes move up and down — from the flutter flower and your face and vice versa. His heart might burst, and so does his eyes with tears. There was pining all this time, and he realizes he is as dumb as you for not realizing your love.

Everything you did for him means a lot to him. You gave him that true peace and silence whenever he visited your room. Your room was the perfect place for him to keep away from royal duties, reliving things children would do. Playing games together; studying for exams together; staying up late at night as secret sleepovers; reading books from Flutterfield’s library, and so much more. They might be simpler compared to his extravagant actions, but they’re still important to him. If not, maybe some of the most valuable moments in building your friendship.

He grins. “I noticed your eyes are shining brighter than the flutter flower and crystals.” As much as he missed the flutter flower (and still keeping the first one you gave him), nothing compares to the sight of your eyes shining. It reminded him of those eureka moments whenever you two are in class. He can’t believe he gets to see that kind of eyes again. That kind he observes on certain days.

You chuckle, “What if I say you look the happiest when you’re smiling?”

Jeongin returns the flutter flower to your bag. He gently grabs your hands, places them on his neck, and caresses your face. “I’d be the happiest fairy ever if it’s alright for me to kiss you.”

“Then, I’ll let you be the happiest fairy ever,” you close the gap in between. Jeongin closes his eyes and hums in delight. He ties his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You can feel him smiling. You stroke your finger on his soft cheek as you reciprocate, making him smile even bigger.

Jeongin opens his eyes. His sight is very endearing — you kissing and touching him gently. He feels all the love, and he can always return it. Jeongin closes his eyes once again and parts his lips from yours.

You wonder why he parted. He surprises you with fervent pecks on your face, making you giggle and pinch his arm.

“Hey, let me kiss your cute face again for a bit,” Jeongin mumbles again. He reaches for your hands. You let him, moving your face closer to his. “Go on, just let me do the same afterward.”

For a while, you two just pecked each other’s faces and giggle in the place where Jeongin feels most comfortable. Jeongin has added another justification to his list of reasons he loves GlowWater Falls — you.

Even after your cheeks feel sore from smiling, you’re unable to process the fact that Jeongin likes you back, and you two kiss. You thought it was a saving grace from all the horrendous times when you had to back out because you were unprepared or the moment simply feels off to confess.

You two flew back to the castle when the moon was up. Jeongin’s parents greeted the two of you at the door, who also felt surprised when they saw you both in each other’s arms.

“Are you two—”

“We’re together now, mom. Is that okay?” Jeongin playfully asks, showing his hand that’s woven with yours. The queen and king sigh in relief.

The king clasps his hands together, “Glad to know that you both had the guts to admit what your heart has been screaming for years. I think the queen and I have been waiting for this moment for so long!”

You smile, “I’m also glad, your highness.” You glance at the love of your life, “Should I extend my stay here, Jeongin?”

“Please. My son might go insane without you,” the king pleads. The queen joins in the ride and jokingly asks, “Can both of you get married already? Both of you are joined at the hip!”

“Mom!?”

“I think I know why you’re so lovesick, your highness,” you peck on his cheek.

The queen cries, “He’s blushing! He got it from us!”

128 notes · View notes

sitp-recs · 1 year

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Hi, please help, I beg!

I just had to rage quit a fic with Draco pining over Harry and going "oh, he doesnt want me, of course", "why would he ever return my feelings", "i should tell him but that will ruin our friendship for sureeee", etc....for 30 chapters (at least! 60 more till the end😅) My fault, of course, I should have quit ages ago. Anyway, can you recommend Draco that knows his worth, knows he's a catch, knows he's hot and smart and most importantly knows that Harry knows all those things too and can see perfectly well that Harry WANTS him back.

Hi anon! I see you have strong feelings about Draco 😂💜 you’re a champion for reading 30 chapters of slow burn, my body literally cannot take it. Personally I adore a quirky, proud Draco but I also think it makes sense to see him a bit wrong-footed and insecure when he’s around Harry, considering his/their past. In any case here’s some sexy and confident Draco for you, I hope you enjoy!

push and pull you down by M0stlyVoid (E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters.

I'm lying when I'm looking away by InnerLilith (E, 7k)

Sometimes it takes a Purim party and a flapper dress for Harry to figure out what he likes. (Spoiler: He likes Malfoy.)

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by Tessa Crowley (E, 9.6k)

Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he's wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can't.

On Target by @the-sinking-ship (E, 13k)

A charity dunk tank, some sorry excuses for friends, a Slytherin with freakishly good aim, a (mostly) empty locker room, and one very small towel. Because, apparently, everyone is dying to get Harry Potter wet.

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had.

White as Snow by bixgirl1 (E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

Take These Lies by @pennygalleon (E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why.

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre (E, 21k)

Harry goes rogue investigating an illegal potion and ends up at Draco Malfoy's dodgy lab.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by calrissian18 (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 29k)

God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Potential Gravity by zeitgeistic (E, 32k)

Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #confident Draco

62 notes · View notes

anyon-else · 1 year

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Skin-Scarred and Buried Deep (The Red Room pt.5) | The mission had seemed much simpler in theory, but facing a past that you hadn't even known existed created unexpected roadblocks (Marvel AU) – spotify playlist | read on ao3

Pairings | Kakashi Hatake x Black Widow!Reader + Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Orochimaru (mentioned), Hiruzen Sarutobi (mentioned)

Warnings | female!reader, angst, hurt/comfort (kinda), fluff? idk if it can be considered fluff but it's something for sure, SOME BONDING FINALLY, discussion of violence, torture, conditioning, mentions of brainwashing, descriptions of violence, blood, cursing, murder

Word count | 4.7k

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Traitor.

The word dripped into the crevices of your mind, filling up the space where a numb emptiness hadn't taken residence.

Your hands hadn't stopped shaking since you'd found the bunker. You'd opened it for the enemy, and all of your instincts were screaming at you to keep him out.

This mission with Kakashi meant more than simply escaping the Red Room. It was a complete and utter betrayal. Now, you were not only a fugitive, but a Judas.

It made you want to take a knife to your hand. To inflict the appropriate punishment upon yourself since there was no one else there to do it for you.

No one told you that freedom was just going to feel like a new set of shackles.

"Maa," Kakashi's voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, "don't zone out on me now."

A disappointed sense of being useless swelled in your chest; you had been staring at the keypad that would get you into the archives for at least a minute now, unmoving and floating somewhere between past and present. One moment, it was Kakashi behind you, a bored and unthreatening presence in your peripheral. The next, Orochimaru was looming over you, disappointed that he had raised such a failure.

A murmured apology didn't seem to reassure Kakashi that you had pulled yourself from the cage that your thoughts had formed around your consciousness. You could feel his frustration at your idle movements as he stood at your back, waiting with a thin veil of patience for you to simply open a door.

And as much as you wanted to fault him for rushing you, you felt the same frustration with yourself. If you were going to get pulled into the past every time something reminded you of it, then you were going to be more of an obstacle to Kakashi—and Sakura—than an asset.

"Look, just..." Kakashi started, but trailed off. This was beyond him; he couldn't read your mind, and he didn't know enough about your past to try and understand what was going on in your head.

He was kneeling next to you, and you let yourself focus on his decidedly non-Orochimaru-like presence to keep you grounded. He was much more relaxed than your former caretaker, hands hanging on his knees, head tilted, and eyes the picture of unfocused boredom. That was an expression you had never seen on Orochimaru. You hadn't seen it on anyone. It was an unfamiliar, oxymoronic feature that was probably unique to Kakashi.

"Do you have an attention issue or something? I thought you were supposed to be a spy."

The scowl that you shot him was met with an unimpressed stare.

"Excuse me for being a little bit distracted with you breathing down my neck, asshole."

"I wouldn't be breathing down your neck if you would hurry it up. Didn't you say this was the easy part?"

"I'm pretty sure I said the opposite."

"You said it was the least hard. I thought that meant it would take less than ten minutes. Are we going to grow old here?"

With another insult caught on the tip of your tongue, you realized that Kakashi had become fully Kakashi again instead of the half-Kakashi half-Orochimaru hybrid that he had been when you were stuck in your memories. You blinked at him, wondering tensely if you would open your eyes and see Orochimaru's crooked smirk instead of Kakashi's mask. Multiple blinks later, Kakashi was still looking at you with that same unimpressed stare.

"Your ability to lose focus amazes me."

You scowled at him, though the effort to feel any real contempt melted away when you realized that he'd temporarily snapped you out of your panicked haze. Maybe that infuriating aloofness that usually made you want to deck him was actually good for something.

"Whatever. Just give me a minute to think."

"I've given you several minutes."

The easiest thing to do (after knocking him flat on his ass, but that wouldn't bode well in the way of cooperation) was to ignore him, and to turn off the part of your mind that insisted on resurfacing old, forgotten memories. Instead, you tried to remember the feeling of desperation that had helped you survive in the Red Room. The feeling that leaving any mission incomplete would result in punishment. You tried to locate the switch that Sakura had somehow managed to turn off four years ago.

You turned the Widow back on, and she understood her orders.

The code you needed to get in was, to Orochimaru's credit, not easy to get a hold of. As with every code-protected door under HYDRA's jurisdiction, the six-digit key changed monthly. It was randomly generated, and Orochimaru only had access to the ones associated with the Red Room. Those were given to him by hand to avoid leaving a digital trail behind. Secrecy like that was especially important when HYDRA was still a weed growing in the cracks of post-war SHIELD. Now, the secrecy was more of a habit than anything else.

As soon as Kabuto had proven himself as Orochimaru's right-hand, the task of retrieving said codes was given to him.

Kabuto met with a delegate from HYDRA once a month, and information was exchanged. Kabuto received entry codes, records of girls—of babies whose parents were willing to give them up and put them in Orochimaru's care—and orders for Orochimaru and his Widows. In exchange, Kabuto gave HYDRA's main branch records on the Widows—how many were improving beyond expectation, how many were in the field, and what level of control they could help HYDRA gain.

It was an archaic system, but it had worked for decades now, and there was no point in fixing something that provided an extra layer of security.

Intercepting HYDRA's messenger had been easy. Uncomfortably easy.

You wanted to blame it on HYDRA becoming sloppy, but that was highly unlikely.

You had known from the sour look on Kakashi's face after you copied down the codes that he'd had the same thought as you. When it came to HYDRA, nothing was coincidence, and anything that was too easy was probably too good to be true.

Always assume the worst. That was how you had survived. And based on what you'd seen, it was probably how Kakashi had survived too.

The codes were, ironically, also in code. It was the standardized encryption that HYDRA used, and you were taught it fairly early in your training. Widows who were not ready for high-level missions were given assignments focused on retrieving information. This bunker, for example, would've been the site of one such mission if Orochimaru had any use for it. But a man so interested in progress wanted little to do with a bunker dripping in information about the past.

That was another risk you had been considering. It was unlikely that any Widows would be sent here, let alone at the same time as you, but that was assuming Orochimaru didn't know where you were. And that was a dangerous assumption to make.

The Widow shut down your paranoid thoughts and put her one-track mind to use on the code. Kakashi seemed to notice the shift and took a step back, leaning against the far wall and pulling a book from his jacket.

Kakashi's expectations had been infuriatingly exact, and you tried to ignore his smug look when you finally entered the correct code exactly ten minutes after you'd started working. The door opened with a creak.

The archives looked untouched. Dust had settled in a thick blanket over the dozens of boxes, and the drag of the door against the concrete floor had created a dust-free semi-circle that gave you a clear picture of how long it had been since someone was here. Each step you took left an imprint of your shoes in the floor, and you added clearing those footprints to your ever-growing list of tasks.

"Where do we start?" Kakashi asked behind you, looking around at the rows of boxes with disdain.

You stepped up to the ones closest to the entrance, running a finger over the date written on the front of it. 1960. The dates were likely the only things that wouldn't be code-protected.

"The Red Room was founded before the Cold War," you said quietly, thinking back to the early days of your training when you'd been taught about HYDRA's history, "at first, HYDRA wasn't exactly in the business of breeding spies. During World War II, when they gained more power, soldiers were more in demand. The war was being fought on the ground, so HYDRA threw their resources into strength. They were building an empire and fighting a war at the same time. Things were messy, and growth was valued over intricacy."

You could feel Kakashi's eyes on your back, and you wondered how much of this he already knew. Now that HYDRA had been exposed, its secrets spread for all to see, a lot of this was probably public information. You'd never had much in the way of internet access, but you knew enough from the frenzy that had taken place in the months following HYDRA's near-collapse about what had and hadn't been released.

But despite the setback resulting from the leak, HYDRA continued to expand. Growth had always been the organization's strong-suit. Even before one head was cut off, two more had already begun growing.

But the symbol of the HYDRA had always seemed wrong to you. Instead of something so powerful and dominating, you thought of something hidden. Something that grew like an itch you couldn't scratch, or an unidentifiable ache in the body. Like a parasite.

"The Cold War was different. HYDRA needed spies, but more than that, they needed loyalty. Orochimaru's predecessor, Sarutobi, created the Red Room as a solution.

"Sarutobi wasn't interested in mind-control. Loyalty, of course, was created in cruel ways, but the original twenty-three Widows still had their free-will. From what I've heard of him, he was kinder than Orochimaru. Not kind, but not soulless. When Orochimaru succeeded him, his mission became to amend the faults he saw in the system that Sarutobi had created. What that meant was stripping us of our free will without us realizing it."

And now he's succeeded, you almost said. But the look on Kakashi's face told you that mentioning Sakura now would've been doing more harm than good. Instead, you followed the dates from 1960, when Sarutobi first established the Red Room, to 1990, when Orochimaru took control.

"This is where we'll start," you pulled out the box marked "January 1990" with a grimace. It was heavier than you'd imagined, and filled with a lot more than you'd hoped, "I don't know exactly what we're looking for, but Orochimaru has been experimenting with mind control since before he took over. It's his obsession. And if there are any records on how to reverse it, this is where we should start looking."

The boxes loomed over you in stacks, piled on shelves until they reached the ceiling. It was a daunting task, but it was better than the alternative. Better than receiving orders from Orochimaru.

Is it? the Widow asked. What are you without him?

You ignored her. She fell silent.

You hadn't slept in thirty-six hours.

It felt like a necessary sacrifice, but calling it a sacrifice seemed a little bit dramatic. Among the many experiments that Orochimaru conducted on his Widows to try and create the perfect spy, one included seeing how long someone could be kept awake until total shut down. No one died during those experiments, and no drugs were used to try and stimulate the brain, but it hadn't been pretty.

You'd been one of the test subjects, once upon a time. It was punishment, but you don't remember what you'd done to deserve it.

Regardless, you were no stranger to missed nights of sleep. You felt your body screaming at you for reprieve, but you fought back harder and kept your eyes open out of pure spite. If you didn't, precious time was wasted. For all you knew, Sakura was already lost to you.

Leaving time to rest was not an option.

You always felt it when Kakashi was looking at you. He seemed to be thinking about your lack of sleep as well, as his gaze was annoyingly concerned, but evidently not enough to say anything. He was worried about the issue of time too. But he also saw the deep and growing bags under your eyes. He saw you falter as you brought boxes out from the archive and into the tent that he'd set up at the tree-line a few yards from the ground entrance to the bunker. He saw your hands shaking when you set them down.

He felt selfish for not doing anything about it. But with Sakura in danger, he had to trust that you had her best interest in mind. Even if her best interest was detrimental to yours.

It's your choice, he tried to tell himself, you're an adult. You're perfectly capable of deciding when and when not to sleep. You have your role, and he has his.

He glanced at the growing pile of decoded documents, written too quickly to be considered neat, but legible enough that he was able to read through them with ease. And he had. He'd read through everything that you decoded, leaving him to do the mental work of sorting through what was on the page while you just focused on each word as an isolated puzzle.

Nothing significant so far. Not so much as a mention of Orochimaru's experiments.

Three days without sleep, and you had nothing to show for it.

Now he was the one getting distracted. He glanced at the setting sun with a sigh, lamenting another day gone with nothing useful showing itself in the hundreds of files that you'd sorted through. It felt like a waste.

He leaned back and glanced at where you had been working for the better part of two days, now empty. You'd gone for the next set of files...when was it? The sun hadn't been going down.

He realized with a chill that nearly an hour had gone by, and he'd been too wrapped up in the files you'd given him and his own anxious thoughts to notice.

He stood, pushing the papers aside with little care about where they ended up. It took him about five seconds to start moving, and in that time, his thought process was as follows:

The tent that he had set up before you started working was deliberately placed to be hidden from anyone not looking for it. If someone was searching specifically for the bunker, chances were that they wouldn't see the tent unless they ventured into the woods.

You'd been gone for at least an hour, but no one had found him. This left two likely options: you had passed out from exhaustion in the bunker, or you had been compromised and refused to sell him out.

The former meant that he needed to get to the bunker and make sure you hadn't hit your head and bled out in the bunker. The latter meant that he would be compromised as well unless he abandoned the bunker and got back to the compound to regroup.

He paused for a split second to glance at his escape route. It would've meant abandoning you and facing Sakura alone. But if you really had been captured, then going after you would only result in both of you dying.

He hoped he wasn't making a mistake. He hoped that his reluctant trust in you was worth this risk.

The field that surrounded the bunker was empty, but he knew better than to assume that it was safe. If Orochimaru had found out what you were doing, then he'd probably sent Widows. Widows who had been trained in stealth since the moment they could walk.

He waited at the ground entrance of the bunker and held his breath, listening for voices or footsteps or anything else that would suggest that you weren't alone. But all he heard was rustling pages and the frantic, familiar scratch of pencil on paper.

He was careful as he crept down the ladder and through the door that led into the archives. He kept his guard up even after he had scanned the room and found that you were not only alone, but completely conscious.

Instead of relief, anger swelled in his chest. He released it in a deep, unsettled sigh and approached you with heavy steps to alert you of his approach.

Surrounding you was a mess of photos, coded documents, and your translated versions. You knelt in the middle, reading over the information that you had just finished scribbling down. He couldn't tell what was going on in your head from your expression, but you looked moments from keeling over. Your head lulled to the side just a bit too much to be natural, and it looked like your eyes were open through sheer willpower rather than any excess energy. He thought about how long the mission had been so far and concluded that it had been nearly forty-eight hours since you'd slept.

"You've been busy," he muttered.

You should've heard him, but you didn't look up. It didn't feel like you were ignoring him. Instead, he got the sense that you just weren't processing what he was saying. All of your energy was focused on the words in front of you; anything else was just a distraction.

When he knelt down, you finally looked up. He realized with a start that there were dried tear stains on your cheeks.

"I found..." you whispered, then swallowed when your voice came out a cracked, shaking mess. It had been nearly ten hours since you'd last spoken. Almost eight since you'd taken a drink of water, "Sorry. I didn't mean to be gone so long."

Kakashi looked down at the picture that you were holding. In it was a man and a woman, both with bullet wounds in their chests and both lying dead in a street. The picture was clearly taken with a decent camera, and Kakashi could just make out a yellow evidence marker in the corner of the photo. A crime scene, then.

"Who are they?"

"My parents."

There were a few seconds of silence as Kakashi processed hearing it and you processed saying it, both of you staring at the picture like it would start moving if you just looked at it long enough.

He was trying to read the writing on your mother's shirt to keep himself occupied when you pushed another photo in his direction. This one was of a girl, probably only one or two years old, staring at the camera with dead eyes that had likely seen far too much for someone who had barely begun walking.

"That's me," you told him, tone almost casual.

He felt that ruminating on the photo of your younger-self wouldn't do you much good, so he pointed at your notes instead. "What's all this?"

"My childhood," you responded easily. Kakashi looked at you warily. It seemed that an hour had been enough time for you to detach yourself from your discoveries. You'd already escaped back into the protective shell that he was becoming very familiar with.

He amended that thought when you handed him one of the pages with a trembling hand.

"Orochimaru didn't...take us. The Widows were given to him by families who had no other options. He offered them one, and then paid them for their silence. Legally speaking, none of the Widows exist."

Kakashi ignored the voice in the back of his mind telling him that this was wasting time that they needed to be using to save Sakura. He shoved it down until it was nothing but the faintest whisper, and he listened to you.

"My parents weren't the ones who gave me up. My grandparents...essentially kidnapped me, and they gave me to Orochimaru. They promised that they would keep my parents from finding out where they had taken me, but I guess they were weaker than they'd let on. My parents were on Orochimaru's doorstep barely a week later. They wanted me back."

Kakashi looked down at the paper you had given, and at the details written down that essentially confirmed everything you were saying. And then, at the bottom of the page–

"He killed them."

The words were spoken with forced emptiness, but there was something else behind them. Something that you were trying desperately to keep covered. When he looked at you, he saw the same attempt to hide in your eyes. In the tight line that your mouth had become. Forced indifference told him more than genuine anger would have.

"Orochimaru raised us to believe that the world had given up on us. That we were only worth something because he had found us. We were left by the people who were supposed to take care of us, but he gave us a second chance. It was like...like a transaction. We gave everything to him, and in exchange, he made us worth something. What that really meant was that, without him, we had no purpose and no meaning.

"When I met Sakura, I realized that the world wasn't about trade-offs like that. That love didn't have to come at a price."

When you glanced at him, he got the feeling that you were deciding whether or not to continue. What you saw must have been encouragement enough to keep going.

"She told me about you. How you took her in when she had nothing to give back to you. And I realized that the world had to be better than what I'd been raised to believe.

"And now–" your voice cracked, and Kakashi set the paper down. He looked at you and hoped that you knew he was listening. That, even if this was the only time you'd ever be able to bear saying this out loud, he'd heard you. And he would remember, "Someone wanted me. And they didn't want me to fight to earn their love. They would've just...given it to me."

He watched you carefully as you tried to stand, eyes faraway and empty. He stood with you, reaching out when you stumbled on your way to the next set of boxes. You stepped over the scattered papers, and his eyes caught sight of another picture of a child, one he assumed was you. You were just a baby, held up for the picture by Orochimaru himself.

You stopped in front of the box you needed, but you'd barely begun pulling it out when you staggered and slumped forward. Kakashi caught you with an arm around your waist before you could fall face-first into the shelves.

You were plaint in his arms, and while the lack of resistance should've been concerning, he was more relieved than anything. At the very least, you'd be forced to get a few hours of sleep.

He pressed two fingers against your jaw to keep your head from moving as he lifted you up from under your knees, though movement likely wouldn't have made a difference. You were out cold, completely drained from the consecutive days you'd spent working. Still, he paused when you shifted in his arms, looking down to make sure that you hadn't woken up.

"You don't know when to quit," he muttered. Damn you for making him worry. He hated it. He needed a break from it after six years of it eating away at him while Sakura was in the Red Room.

But he supposed it wasn't your fault. In actuality, you'd tried your hardest to make him hate you.

The tent only had one sleeping bag laid out on the side that he'd claimed for himself. Yours was void of anything except the bundled coat that you'd been sitting on and the scatter of papers surrounding it. The water bottle that he'd set beside you that morning was unopened, he noticed. He scowled at you and hoped that his disdain found its way into your dreams.

With no other options and a laziness that made opening the other sleeping bag seem like an impossible task, he settled you into his blankets and covered you. It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement he'd ever set up for himself, but you were probably too deep in sleep to notice. At least you had a decent pillow.

There wasn't much for him to do while you slept; he'd gone over everything twice, and without you decoding more for him to read, he was essentially useless. He considered going outside and keeping watch, maybe doing laps at the edge of the forest to burn off some of his nervous energy from before, but he just stood at your side, hesitant to leave you defenseless. He watched the even rise and fall of your chest as you slept. There was a peaceful look on your face that he had never seen before.

With a sigh and a moment's hesitation, he sat at your side and pulled out a book, trying to focus on it rather than on the expression on your face when you'd told him about your parents.

It only took a few hours for your face to twist uncomfortably. It was subtle, but Kakashi perked up at the movement. He knew the beginning of a nightmare like the back of his hand. Never-mind that he got them frequently; he'd been helping all three of the kids cope with them for years.

Whenever they got nightmares, Sakura and Naruto both liked knowing that there was someone in the room with them while they slept. Generally that meant that they would fall asleep while he brushed through their hair, a constant reminder that they weren't alone.

Sasuke liked being talked to sleep, though he'd never admit it. Sometimes he would sleep on the couch in the common area, and Kakashi always knew that meant he was having a bad night. On those nights, Kakashi would pick up a book and read aloud until he was sure that Sasuke was asleep.

Your hand tightening into a fist around the blanket covering you snapped him out of his thoughts. He wasn't sure what would help; you didn't seem averse to physical touch, but he'd only seen you touch Sakura. He wasn't confident that he would get the same treatment.

Still, you wouldn't blame him for trying. Hopefully.

He sat near your head and reached a hand out awkwardly. It had been one thing to do this with his kids; when they began confiding in him about their nightmares, they'd been comfortable around him. He'd made them feel safe. You were still wary even turning your back to him, much less letting him this close while you were unconscious.

But you were still twisting and turning, and your mumbling was becoming more coherent.

"No, stop," you muttered, repeating it over and over like a prayer. Kakashi thought of those same, pleading words coming from Sasuke as he dreamt of his brother.

He brushed his fingers lightly over your head. The memory of running gentle hands through Sakura's hair came to mind. She always leaned against his thigh in her sleep, subconsciously moving closer to him during the night. He tried to remember the same, soothing touch he used that always gave her a restful nights sleep. His fingers moved over the skin of your scalp gently, careful not to wake you with too much pressure.

A few minutes after, he was silently and absentmindedly going through the familiar motions. In that time, your anxious muttering had quieted, and he didn't think he was mistaken when he noticed that your body was relaxed. He felt a strange swell of pride when he saw that peaceful expression back on your face.

Part of him wondered if you would ever feel that kind of contentedness when you were awake. As he sat and did his best to keep you from falling back into your nightmares, he wondered if he'd be able to see it one day.

(previous chapter) | (next chapter) | (series masterlist)

Author's note | full disclosure: i am only on season four of the og naruto series, so i don't have a lot of context for kakashi's backstory and stuff like that, but i do have the bare bones. i want to include it, but it might be later than expected because i don't know what it entails lmao. anyways, i'm so happy with this chapter, and i had a lot of fun writing it, so i hope y'all enjoy. also apologies for the slow updates. midterms season is intense.

sorry for the long note but i also changed some things in the prev. chapters, so if you're someone who's invested in plot things i'd recommend rereading chapter 2.

title is from "Cartwheel" by Lucy Dacus

#kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake imagine #naruto #trr #emwrites

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 4 months

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The lost Princess of the ocean - ten

Masterlist

The following day you stayed in your cabin reading through a book Nami had left behind. You could hear the men on the higher decks working with Buggy to get closer to Nami. You hear Usopp calling out for land. Relieved to once again be on dry land you decided to change into some simpler clothes, a pair of Khaki knee length shorts and a white linen shirt tied up at your waist. You pulled your long hair up into a twisted bun at the back of your head. Several shorter locks fell loose around your face before long, the five of you were walking toward a small village, the houses were barely more than sticks and straw. When Zoro tried to walk beside you, you quietly fell back to walk between Sanji and Usopp. He wanted so desperately to tell you how pretty you looked, to marvel in the confidence you were beginning to show. Zoro hated what he had done, his words wouldn't come out right. He hated that you felt safer beside the chef than him now. His hand clamped around the hilt of his white sword, trying to push all of his feelings down.

“Never seen that before.” he says looking at an upturned shack.

“What could have done this?” Luffy asked.

“Maybe I should head back, make sure the Merry's secure.” Usopp frets.

“Arlong did this.” Luffy's voice was angry as he stated the obvious.

“Hey, shit-hat!” Buggy called from inside Sanji's shoulder bag, “I think we can all agree that Arlong's a bad fish But why don't we quit lollygagging and get my body back?”

‘Pipe down in there.” Sanji bit back.

“Or what? You gonna whip me up a soufflé?” The clown head taunted him.

“How about you take him for a while?” He looks at Usopp.

“Ooh, new guy carries the clown head.” Usopp scuttled away. With a shake of your head you take the bag from the chef and hike it over your shoulder.

“Everyone! Please!” A voice calls from around a corner. ‘Please, everyone. We don't have much time, and we're short again this month.” The uniformed man spoke.

“Is it enough?”

“Do we have time to get some more?” The villagers asked.

“No. You don't.” Her voice cut through you all.

“It's Nami.” One of the women whispered. Luffy made to step forward but Zoro held him back with a hand on his chest.

“You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here.” A woman with Blue hair and tattoos across her chest and shoulders scowled at Nami. She spat at the latter's feet. Everyone in the village remembered the day Arlong came into town, bringing distraction and fear. Nami took the box and looked inside.

“You're short.” She says flatly.

“Nami, please. This is all we have. Arlong has bled us dry.” They plead with her.

“Then find more blood.” She turns on her heel, stopping when she sees you all.

“Luffy? What are you doing here?” She hisses at him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He. Replies.

“This is where I belong.” She briefly glanced at the rest of you.

“ I don't believe that. This is not you.” Luffy feels his heart breaking seeing her this way.

“No. This isn't the me you want me to be.” She berates him.

“Nami if you need our help-”

“No, I don't need any of you. Arlong wanted the map, and I conned you into getting it for me and you bought it. I was never part of your stupid crew.” you can hear the break in her voice as she speaks.

“You don't mean that.” You step forward slightly. Nami looks at you, her dark gaze faltering for only a second.

“Take the rest of these clowns and sail away from here. I never want to see you again.” She spun and stormed away. Your hand found Zoro's arm for a moment. You both look at it, then to each other, your eyes meeting in sadness. Zoro brushed his fingers over your own. You didn't want to watch her walk away again.

“Okay, that went about as bad as it could.

So back to the boat before the fishmen find us?Sail the hell out of here? Okay."

“There's something else going on here.” Luffy mused.

“She was very clear she wants us to leave.” Zoro stated.

“You don't know women.” Sanji quipped, “They never say what they mean.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Tell me again why the cook gets a say.” Zoro rolled his eyes and stepped away from Sanji.

“Don't you guys get it? She's one of them. She's a bad guy. The villagers are terrified of her.” Usopp argued.

“Not all of them.” You say looking back to the villagers. Luffy smiles at you, showing his top teeth. He grabbed your hand and dragged you all towards them.

“Hey! Scar guy. Who was that lady? You know, the one with the cool hair?” He spoke quickly to the uniformed man.

“Who wants to know?” the uniformed man asked with a sigh.

“I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I'm a pirate.”

“Hunter. Pirate hunter.” Zoro interrupted. “We're here to collect Arlong's bounty.”

“You?” He almost laughs, “I've seen men twice your size and with twice your number

go into Arlong Park. None of them ever came back.” There is more than sadness in his voice. You had known men just like Arlong all your life; this would be more than just a fight.

“We just want to talk to her.” Luffy pressed.

“Trust me, you don't. But if it'll get you out of my town, try the house down that road, on the edge of the tangerine grove.” He waves you all off. Luffy still has hold of your hand as he marches away from the village. He is walking fast, you have to skip every so often to keep up. You curse your shorter legs when you see both Zoro and Sanji striding with ease.

“I think I got more of a boat body than a long-journey-on-foot kind of body. Anybody else missing the ocean?” Usopp spoke incessantly, “No? Okay. I could go bring the boat around if we don't want to walk all the way back. Whoa!” he's stopped by a gun pointing at you all.

“Turn around and leave. Now.” The woman with blue hair scowled at you.

“That's what I've been saying.” Usopp agreed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Hey, I saw you earlier. I think maybe you and I have something in common.” Luffy said.

“I've got the gun, and you're standing in front of it. What could we possibly have in common?” Her eyes were narrow and her grip tight.

“Let's start with Nami. Seems you know her very well.” He continued.

“She's a thief with no conscience and when there's no more left to take, she leaves and doesn't turn back. Now get off my property.” You catch the quiver of her lip, this runs deeper than she wants to show. Her fingers readjust on the rifle.

“Nami's part of our crew. She's our friend.” Luffy says hopefully.

“My sister doesn't have any friends. The sooner you realise that, the better.” The woman rolls her eyes.

“ Sisters. That makes sense. Both as beautiful as each other.” Sanji flashes a smile at her.

“ Give it up.” Zoro said to him.

“I can tell she really did a number on you guys. You're not special, and I can't help you.” She growled.

“How about a meal?” Sanji put in a last attempt. It peaks her attention.

“An exchange of sorts for your valuable time and information.” Sanji continues.

“You cook?” She asks.

“He's a waiter.” Zoro adds.

“Best cook in the East Blue. You never tasted anything better in your life. Usopp's word!” Usopp stated gleefully. The woman looks through all of you, her mind finally settling in words.

“Ain't got much to cook with.” she begins to soften.

“You'd be surprised how much I can make with very few ingredients. What do you say?”

She finally agrees and lets Sanji inside her house. You all sit around the small building as he begins to cook. Zoro sits beside.

“y/n I-” he began.

“Zoro, it's fine, don't worry about it. I won't be a distraction.” You get up and move across the room asking Sanji if he needs help. Usopp stifles a laugh with his hand in front of his mouth.

“You messed up good there.” He says. Zoro simply grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

“Wait. Nami's working for the pirate that killed your mother?” Usopp asks when Nojiko finished her tale.

Luffy's face showed every bit of sadness he felt for her as he stood up and walked out. You and Zoro follow him.

“She was just a kid.” he said looking up at the moon.

“She's not anymore. She made her choice.” Zoro said.

“I'm tired of hearing about Nami from other people.” Luffy grumbled.

“She told you to leave, Luffy.” Zoro reminded him.

“So did you.” Luffy looked up to him like a child looking for approval. Each of them recalled the day they met, Zoro had implored Luffy to leave him. He'd have to thank him one day for making a different choice.

“How do you know she's not one of Arlong's crew?” Zoro asks.

“Same way I knew you weren't gonna kill me

when I cut you down from that cross. Same way I know you want only the very best for y/n. Same way I knew about Usopp and Sanji.”

“Yeah, I don't know about that waiter.” Zoro quipped.

“I know Nami's good. She needs to know it too.” Luffy looked back at the sky. You and Zoro meet each other’s eyes once more.

The four men decide to go get Nami back by charging into Arlong Park, the pirates hideout. Usopp was filling his smoke bombs and arguing with Buggy. You stood outside, your shoulder pressed against the porch.

“Here.” Sanji handed you a cup of warm tea.

“Thank you” you sip the warm liquid, relishing the gentle citrus taste.

“You okay?” He asked you.

“I wish people would stop asking me that. I'm supposed to be free, you all keep telling me I am but here I am waiting to be killed by more pirates.” You huff.

Sanji wasn't sure how to answer you. He pressed his lips together.

“You know, if you want we can find you somewhere, when this is over we could…anywhere you want.”

“Yeah, imagine me living in a little cottage, I'd be back with the assassin's within a week.” You actually laugh. Sanji lifts his arms.

“I'm going to hug you now, okay?” He asks, taking a step toward you, you nod and rest your head on his chest.

“You know, I quite enjoy you giving Moss head a hard time, but I really don't think he meant to hurt you.” he says to the top of your head.

You pull back to look up at him.

“I'm not sure how I feel about him, he has been so kind and gentle with me, but the way people talk about him. The duel, he was a different person.”

Sanji pulls in his eyebrows, studying your eyes for a moment. He lets out a long breath when he understands.

“You're frightened of him?”

“In part I suppose. I was a princess of the ocean, then I was a prisoner. I knew how to be those things. I did as I was told but now, with him. I just…”

“I get it, Zoro is just a hard arse, he doesn't know what's best for him, but he does care about you. Everyone can see that.” He reassured you. You nod and replace your head to his chest.

“Luffy wants us, time to go.” Zoro's voice was harsh and angry.

At the edge of tha tangerine grove Nami drops to her knees, using her dagger to stab at the swordfish tattoo on her shoulder. Luffy gripped her wrist stopping her self attack.

“I told you to get the hell out of here.” She tried to growl her words.

“You did.” The captain said.

“Then leave. You don't know anything about what's going on here.” Her tears fell freely.

“I don't.” he admits.

“Luffy. Help me.” Nami cries. Luffy takes of his straw hat, placing it on Nami's.

“Of course I will.” He agrees walking back toward you the others, “Of course I will. Of course I will!” He throws his hands in the air and you all feel that surge of confidence from him.

“Let's go.” He says walking last you.

“Right.” The men reply in perfect unison.

“What's that?” Usopp looks at the gunfire and flames.

“They're attacking the village.”

#zoro x reader

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madaboutmunson · 2 years

Note

i’m a sucker for dad eddie munson if we can have some 🥺

Hi there!!

First of all, thank you so much for being my first ask, and picking an Eddie I've never written before 🤩 I hope you enjoy it 💚💚

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"You didn't get a replacement? Well, yes, I know that, sweetheart…You know I would never want to miss out, but now I've kinda got my hands full with Ozzy here," Eddie says as gently as he can into the phone, precariously balanced between his cheek and shoulder.

Whilst simultaneously shushing and making big goofy faces at the toddler in his arms, that's slowly emerging from its most recent meltdown because he wasn't allowed to eat a CD.

"I know, honey, I know you're the one working all day today." Eddie sighs in defeat but can't help but smile as he looks into the big brown eyes of the babbling babe, "You know what, sugar, me and Ozzy here, we're gonna make it work. So don't worry about it, ok? Ok, babe…yep, I love you too…see you later."

He switches the baby to one arm, puts the phone down in the cradle, checks his watch, and turns to Ozzy.

"Ok, buddy, we've got like forty minutes to look handsome as all hell, get you fed and all sleepy, pick up Joanie's favourite hair tie that she needs; otherwise, the world will collapse, and she won't play at her recital, and then get over to the school for said performance."

He puts Ozzy in his walker and, with a vast false smile, says, "And all of this would have been so much simpler if the babysitter hadn't decided to sneak her boyfriend over last time and got herself fired."

Eddie runs, grabs his electric razor, and starts shaving in the mirror.

Ozzy babbles. Eddie replies, "I know…I know I completely lost my shit with her, but I was paying her to watch you and Joanie, and she wasn't"

Ozzy blows a few raspberries and giggles.

Eddie pokes his head around at Ozzy, "I will not apologise. No way, man."

Another raspberry from Ozzy.

"I said no way!!" Eddie giggles in the mirror as he splashes on some cologne and gets half dressed in his suit. Leaving his shirt, tie and blazer on the hanger.

He rushes back into Ozzy and picks him up from his walker, "Ok, now for you, little guy". Eddie sets about making sure Ozzy has a fresh diaper, a comfy onesie that looks like a tuxedo, and brushes his ever-so-soft hair out of his face with the tiny baby brush. Save for the solitary ringlet at the front of his head, Eddie twirls it gently around his finger and lets it spring back into place.

Eddie marvels at his son, "Lady-killer" he winks at Ozzy, who blows another raspberry with bubbles in response, "Ok, Ok, or you know any gender you like, geez. Tough crowd here tonight."

Eddie grabs the bottle from the warmer, which slips from his hand, but he expertly catches it on his shiny patent shoe and flicks it back up in the air for an effortless catch.

"Your old man's still got it!" He winks and sticks out his tongue at his son, earning him a fit of giggles.

He cradles his son to his chest and feeds him his bottle whilst walking around looking for the other items he needs. The change bag, the infamous hair tie, a set of ear defenders, and a random scoop of snacks from the cupboard.

Ozzy is placed back in his walker whilst Eddie packs the car, not forgetting the stroller this time, as Ozzy was much heavier than last year, and he was sure his arms couldn't take it.

Once triple-checking everything, Eddie finally gets fully dressed and transfers Ozzy from the walker to the car seat.

Once both are safely buckled in, Eddie pauses for a moment and looks in the rearview mirror at Ozzy, "Hey, man! It's just you and me. We can listen to whatever we want!!"

Eddie rustles under the passenger chair, retrieves a box, opens the window and blows the dust off the tape container.

"Slayer? Megadeath? Black Sabbath?" Eddie asks as he offers the tape collection to Ozzy, whose tiny chubby finger lands on Iron Maiden.

Eddie looks impressed at his son, "Ok…ok, I could go for that" as soon as the music starts up, He starts up the car and takes a quick look back at his son, whose bottom lip is stuck out, shaking. His soft brow smushed as he put his hands to his ears.

Eddie melts and rolls his eyes, "Alright, champ, no need to get upset" Eddie ejects the tape and puts in the nursery rhyme tape, his son's face lights up, and he can't repress the huge dimpled grin on his own face.

As a compromise, the nursery rhymes stay on, but Eddie ad libs some sung guitar solos and high-pitched metal singing occasionally over the top of it.

He pulls the station wagon into the parking lot and sets about reconstructing the stroller. He places an almost sleeping Ozzy into it silently and gently before cautiously adorning him with a set of little ear defenders and speed walks his way to the auditorium.

A blur of neon races towards his leg at an almighty speed, causing him to exhale an 'Oof' at the impact.

"Daddy!!! Did you bring it? Did you? Huh? Have you got it?"

"Of course I did, Angel" he pulls out the hair tie with the two googly-eyed cats on. "Want me to do it for you?"

Joanie nods enthusiastically, and Eddie replaces the frog hair tie for the cats ensuring her ponytail is perfectly central with no bumps, just the way she liked it.

"You can have the frog hair tie for your hair" she looks up at him blinking and offering it up to him.

Eddie touches his long hair and rolls his eyes, "Sorry honey, Daddy forgot to tie his hair up for this fancy recital" He kneels down, and Joanie ties his voluminous curly dark hair into a low ponytail.

"Thank you, m'lady" Eddie gives her a toothy grin and bows to his daughter, whose laughter fills his heart so much he's confident it might explode one of these days.

He gives her an all-encompassing hug and three squeezes for luck, just as she liked. Then, as they move out of the hug, he holds her by her shoulders and looks in her eyes. "Now you get out there, kid, and tear the roof off this stuffy old place. We're gonna be right here, Ozzy and me, cheering you on, ok? You've got this!"

Joanie mirrors Eddie's dimpled smile, "Ok. I will. I promise!" She smiles as she runs off towards the stage.

An hour or so later, Ozzy is still sound asleep in the ever-rocking stroller, by way of Eddie's foot, keeping in time to whatever is playing. He almost falls asleep a few times himself, but then he hears Joanie's name over the microphone and snaps out of an almost slumber to his feet, applauding and whooping loudly.

Someone behind him tuts and mumbles something. He whips around and intensely stares at them, pointing firmly at the stage, "That right there is my little girl, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna be seated just because there was no fucking standing room."

He narrows his eyes at them, pinching his fingers together on one ringed hand whilst the other remains on his belted hip.

"I have had quite the day of it, and I would sincerely appreciate it if you kept your thoughts and opinions to your stuck-up selves, and let me show my kid, how much I love being here to watch her play. Al-fucking-right?!" He leans forward into them as they recoil in their seats.

Eddie smiles and claps his hands, "Then we have an accord. Great!"

He turns around to watch Joanie play Ode to Joy on her violin. A huge grin encompasses the lower half of his face, and his eyes fill with proud tears. That's my little angel, killing it on stage.

Whenever she looks up from her music, he's sure to be ready with a wave or throws the horns up at her, and she returns a shy smile before returning to the piece.

When she takes her final bow, Eddie whoops, cheers and roars like he was a one-man crowd. This whole time his other leg hasn't once stopped gently rocking the stroller containing a softly slumbering Ozzy in his ear defenders.

He sits back down in his seat and waits for the end of the show before rushing to collect the apple of his eye.

He puts her violin in the bottom of the stroller and hoists her up onto his shoulders, and she holds on tight whilst Eddie pushes the stroller out of the auditorium.

Once all buckled in the car, he turns to Joanie and, in hushed tones, says, "I'm sorry I have to whisper this, honey, but it's just because your brother is sleeping. You annihilated that piece tonight, my angel. Absolutely rocked that place!!" He takes her little hand and plants a kiss on the back of it.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson dad #madaboutmunson requests #madaboutmunson

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supermarvelgirl15 · 2 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Summary: While trying to figure out how to balance the scale, Marc is forced to relive the memories of you.

Pairing: Marc Spector × f!reader

Word Count: 2,280

Warnings: Spoilers for Episode 5, angst, self-depreciation

A/N: This is based on Somewhere Only We Know by Keane! I gave you a lot of fluff in With a V, so I had to balance it out with this angst. I'm so sorry jjsjsjsaj. Don't blame me, blame Marvel. They turned me into an emotionally distressed mess. Also, Marc desperately needs a hug, effective immediately. Anyways, enjoy!

Main Masterlist

××××××

“Marc?”

At the sound of your voice, Marc looked up from where he was hugging his knees to his chest in the corner of the supply closet. He was sure no one had seen him lock himself inside, the other kids too occupied with whatever the physical education teacher had them participating in.

“Are you okay in there?”

Of course you were the one to find him. He never seemed to be able to hide anything from you.

Letting out a shaky breath, Marc pushed himself off the disgusting floor and wiped his eyes with his sleeves, unlocking the door to let you in. You checked to see if anyone was watching before slipping inside, pushing the door closed behind you.

Your eyes raked over him, racking your mind to find anything that could have possibly caused him to have an episode. A frown made its way on your face when it finally occurred to you what had happened only a few moments ago.

“I’m kicking Mickey in the balls,” you informed him, turning back to the door without a moment of hesitation.

They were just playing a stupid game of kickball and someone had caught Marc’s ball, his out costing his team the win. Mickey had roughly knocked his shoulder with Marc’s, telling him, “it’s all your fault that we lost.”

Those three words had triggered him, causing the start of an episode, hence why he was in the supply closet in the first place. Luckily, you had caught him before it could digress into something worse.

Marc was quick to grab your arm, stopping you from your vengeful quest. “Don’t! I… Can we just,” his words started to get caught up in his throat. “Can we go?”

Despite his request being vague, you knew exactly what he had meant. You offered him a soft smile as you turned back to face him, seeing the tears that he was desperately trying to keep at bay. “Yeah, of course. You think the teachers will know if we left early?” You questioned, a mischievous tone laced in your voice.

Marc shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly. You took that as your cue to continue, leading you both out of the closet and past the adults, grabbing your bags on the way. The two of you took off running as soon as you made it outside, trying but failing to suppress your laughter as you made it out on the street.

The rest of your trek was silent aside from the occasional comment to one another, up until you made it to your house. You snuck around to the backyard and disappeared into the tree line, Marc following close behind the entire time. You both knew the path like the back of your hand.

It wasn’t long until you both finally came across the fallen tree. Your place.

With a sigh, you sat on the ground, resting your back against the slowly rotting wood of the tree, and looked up into the sky. Marc joined you, sitting above you on the trunk itself, his eyes taking in the tops of the other trees and how they blended with the sky. The air that had seemed to choke him earlier started to loosen, his tension blown away with the breeze that shook the leaves around you.

Every time Marc thought he was on the verge of breaking, you were there to remind him that he could always let go. That’s what this place had represented. That he could go back to simpler times in his mind, the times before the incident. You were always there to guide him back.

Why did he let you go?

“Who is she?”

Marc’s eyes tore away from where he had been watching you and his younger self, and landed on Steven, who was watching the scene with obvious confusion. Marc had been so caught up in seeing you again that he had forgotten why he was even there in the first place.

He cleared his throat, turning away from the scene all together. “Nobody. Let’s just get out of here,” Marc brushed off, searching for a way out. What did you have to do with balancing that damned scale anyway?

Steven pushed himself in front of Marc, stopping him from going any further. “Well, clearly she was somebody. Who is she, Marc?” Steven pushed, gesturing to the little girl that he doesn’t remember. There was something familiar about her, however. Maybe he recognized her as a schoolmate, but that was all. He didn’t exactly have many friends in school, especially someone that was the likes of you.

Marc ran his hand over his face, shaking his head. You didn’t have anything to do with this. He couldn’t let you be involved in any shape or form. Not anymore.

Frustration was growing even more inside Steven. There was so much that he didn’t know, so much of his life that was a lie. Why couldn’t Marc understand that he needed answers? That if he doesn’t tell him the truth, they’ll be thrown off the boat and turned into bloody sand for all eternity?

He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when he realized the scene that had been behind Marc had changed. The fallen tree was more rotten looking than it had been, and you–now older–stood before it, biting your knuckle, the red streaks on your cheeks evidence that you had been crying.

Seeing that Steven’s focus was no longer on him, Marc turned to look behind him as well, his face falling upon realizing what was about to happen. His heart started to beat faster when he saw himself walk up to you, you turning your back on him immediately. “Steven, I–we need to go,” he tried again, but Steven wouldn’t budge, eyes glued on the two of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Marc?” You had been the first to speak then. Your voice had held so many emotions that it hit Marc like a truck. Marc closed his eyes, the memory forcing itself on him yet again.

“I can’t stay here, you know that.” Marc had been desperate for you to understand. He couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t handle her.

You had laughed dryly, shaking your head. “And joining the marines was really your only option, Marc? You couldn’t just, oh, I don’t know, move somewhere else? You’re running away, Marc,” you told him, throwing your hands up. You were pissed, he knew that, but so was he.

Marc’s eyes darkened. “You don’t get to tell me I’m running away. I can go do whatever the hell I want,” he told you, pointing his finger in your direction. He shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why does it matter to you anyway? You were wanting to leave this place as bad as me,” he pointed out. Why was he the bad guy for doing it first?

A scoff left your lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “You’re so stupid, you know that, Marc? You are the biggest idiot I have ever met!” You shouted, approaching him. You shoved your finger in his chest, your eyes pooling with tears. “Because if you join the marines, I can’t follow you.”

The brokenness that had been your voice was enough to make Marc flinch then, more so now. Marc still hated himself for being the cause of it. Only if you had known that you were better off without him.

Marc wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do what he did next. Maybe it was because he knew that this would’ve been his last chance. Maybe it was just because he acted without thinking it all the way through. If he had thought at all, he would have never done that to you, knowing the pain that it would cause.

He had grabbed your face then, pulling it closer until your lips crashed into his. He had kissed you with all that he had left in him, pulling you in against him by your waist with his free hand. You had fisted his shirt with your hands on his chest, tears falling out the corners of your eyes as you kissed him back with just as much urgency.

When he finally made himself pull away, he rested his forehead against yours, tears brimming his own eyes. “That’s the point,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You pulled away from him at that, wiping your eyes as you secluded yourself from him, using what used to be your sacred place, the place that only you two knew about, as a barrier between you. “So this is the end of everything, huh?” You asked, a frown set on your face, a face that he would always seek out in his darkest times.

“I’m sorry.” The words had felt empty when Marc said them. He was sorry that he was the one bringing you all this pain. He wasn’t sorry for leaving you. If you had stayed with him, you wouldn’t be able to accomplish all of the dreams that you had. He would just hold you under the water with him.

Steven watched as Marc turned away from you, sparing you one last glance before walking down the path and never looking back. His gaze went to his Marc now, seeing him never take his eyes off of you, a tear that had escaped running down his cheek.

“Was… Was this the last time you saw her?” Steven brought himself to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Why hadn’t he truly met you? Did Layla know about you?

Marc wiped the escaped tears away with the back of his hand, still refusing to look away from you. Before Steven could get his answer, the scene changed around again, this time it was a front door. Steven watched as another Marc hesitantly wrapped his knuckles against the said door.

It wasn’t long before the door opened, revealing you, older than before. The smile that was on your face fell once you realized that it was Marc. Neither of you had moved, just staring at each other. For a moment, Steven thought that something had gone wrong with the memory, until you finally moved, launching yourself into Marc’s arms. Marc held you tightly against him, resting his head on the top of yours as his eyes shut closed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. You knew exactly why he came back. Her shiva was tomorrow and he didn’t know if he could do it, not even for his own father’s sake. “You don’t owe her anything, you hear me?”

A lump had formed in Marc’s throat, making it nearly impossible for him to speak. “Can we go?” If you hadn’t been as close as you were, you would never have heard his request. He was getting so tired and he needed somewhere to begin; he needed you.

You pulled back from him, but never left his touch. “We’re already here,” you told him with a teary smile. Somehow, Marc knew exactly what you meant. Even when he didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was never that fallen tree. It was just you and him.

Marc had expected you to slam the door, to yell at him, to punch his damn face; it was what he deserved after all. But apparently you needed him just as much.

“I can’t stay,” he finally spoke, tearing himself away from you. He shouldn’t have come in the first place.

You nodded, reaching up and caressing his cheek. Marc’s eyes closed again at the contact, soaking in your comfort. “I know, Marc. And I can’t leave,” you said, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. You both had separate lives now. Lives that could no longer be intertwined. He was the one to make that choice years ago.

Marc’s heart ached as he relived the moment that had just happened two months ago. He had to remind himself that it was for the better. That you got to live the life you wanted, even without him.

“After all those years, you still came back to her,” Steven commented, looking at Marc with empathy. “I’m sorry, Marc.” He wasn’t sure what exactly he was sorry for. It could have been for that he was cheated out of a life with a woman he so clearly loved, or for everything that he had to go through in general. Either way, he was still sorry.

Marc nodded, rubbing his eyes with his palms. This was too much for him. He wasn’t sure how much of this he could stand to endure. But, if he was going to get Steven out of this and save Layla, he’ll do it, no matter how much it hurts him.

“She loved you, too,” Steven remarked, looking back at you. He took in your kind eyes that held tears and your sad, yet soft smile as you watched Marc walk away from you again.

Watching you as well, Marc nodded, even though his self-doubt tried to make him think otherwise. He wasn’t sure if you would have still loved him if you had learned all that he had done, all that he was capable of doing. Somehow, something tells him that you still wouldn’t have changed your mind. That was what he had loved about you. No matter how broken Marc was, you still treated him as if he was whole.

You took him to that place. The place where he wasn’t broken.

The place that only you two knew.

××××××

#marvel #moon knight #marc spector #marc spector × reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector imagines #moon knight × reader #moon knight imagines #moon knight imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #steven grant #oscar isaac #kay writes

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ms-m-astrologer · 1 year

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Transiting Sun enters Taurus

Thursday, April 20 - Sunday, May 21, 2023

Taurus likes life to be calmer, but in these past years that calmness has been difficult to find. That’s primarily because of Uranus’ long-term (seven year) transit through the sign of the Bull. “Radical simplicity” is my key phrase for it - many people are putting a lot of effort into simplifying their lives. Breaking free of the internet, cutting the cable TV connection, making more basic and stable community connections, etc.

With the Sun moving through Taurus, we’re shining a light (the Light) on our ability to de-stress. Can we? We all can certainly make our lives, to some degree, much simpler.

Three of Taurus’ favorite healthy strategies are

Music: Not necessarily limited to soothing lullabies; Ms M (with her Aries Moon!) tends to need loud music to de-stress. Try to integrate some time every day to listen to your favorite songs.

Mother Nature: in the Northern Hemisphere, this can be a glorious time to get out of doors and marvel at all the flowers and their scents, and new leaves, and warmer weather - even a spring thunderstorm can be refreshing.

Animals: cuddle up with your pet; or, if you can’t afford a pet or your landlord won’t let you have any, volunteer at an animal rescue shelter. Get (re-)acquainted with your inner animal.

Here are some dates to keep in mind, allowing for a day or two on either side:

Thursday, April 20, Sun/Taurus square Pluto/Aquarius - an abrupt, almost brutal shock to start off Taurus season. Maybe we all will be faced with a good reason to actively de-stress?

Monday, April 24, Sun/Taurus conjunct Vesta/Taurus and North Node/Taurus, opposite South Node/Scorpio - this can be a wonderful day to re-align oneself. We want to work on a simple, practical self-image.

Tuesday, April 25, Sun/Taurus sextile Saturn/Pisces - coming right on the heels of the Sun-Vesta-North Node triple conjunction, we have the motivation we need to commit to hard work.

Monday, May 1, Sun/Taurus conjunct Mercury Rx/Taurus - in which Mercury gets a systems upgrade.

Friday, May 5, Full Moon/Eclipse, 14°58’ Scorpio - really wild and intense, with a sort of “no going back” energy to it.

Tuesday, May 9, Sun/Taurus conjunct Uranus/Taurus - coincidentally, this is the day when we emerge from “the shadow of the eclipse.” As the dust settles, we’re committed to our individuality.

Sunday, May 14, Sun/Taurus trine Ceres/Virgo - Mother’s Day in the US, how appropriate!

Thursday, May 18, Sun/Taurus sextile Neptune/Pisces - opportunities for artistic expression and practical (Taurus) compassion (Neptune and Pisces).

Friday, May 19, New Moon, 28°25’ Taurus - I’m hoping this will help us incorporate our new relaxation techniques into our lives.

We have an emphasis on Taurus now - Mercury, Vesta, and Uranus are already there, and will remain until after Gemini season gets underway. In addition, Jupiter will enter Taurus on Tuesday, May 16. If we work hard and pay attention, we can use the Sun’s 2023 transit of the sign, to give us some good ideas about working with Jupiter’s Taurus transit (May 16, 2023 - May 25, 2024).

#Astrology #Transiting Sun enters Taurus #Ms M astrologer

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cosmicgrapevine · 10 months

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“Hey am I, like, a bad person for being kind of jazzed right now? Because this is the most exciting thing to happen around here in years, but, y’know. People might die.” Lynd opened an eye. He was resting on the bench, ‘saving my energy’, as he put it. “People die all the time, for all sorts of reasons. Do you feel burdened by each one of them?” “Real encouraging, dude.” She looked at the wall. “What’s taking her so long? You said it’d be quick.” “I predicted it would be quick.” C’mon, Mel. You can do it. “They’re leaving for good, aren’t they?” She said quietly. “They’re not safe here anymore.” “Neither are you.” “Yeah, no shit. But…even if my dad accepts the truth, there’s still my mom. She never will.” “So leave. You hate your mother, do not respect your father, your closest friend is leaving…go with her. What, exactly, is tying you here?” He chuckled. “You have all this marvelous technology, all this knowledge, yet you’ve forgotten you can run away.” “It…just doesn’t work like that. Not in the normal world.” People didn’t just disappear anymore. Someone would catch her, drag her back. And if they didn’t, she’d still hear Rita’s voice every time she looked in the mirror, every time she talked to a stranger, like a chain around her heart. And if she was right, if Tabby really was a disaster in the making, a girl doomed for the gutter…well, then she’d have nowhere to go except back. Tabby realized she was quietly hoping the Mires would kill Rita, to make it simpler. That wasn’t how good people thought. “For what it’s worth, I think you would be good at this work,” Lynd said lazily. “What? C’mon, I’m not some warrior.” “You’ve been thinking like one all night, asking what’s going on and how to defend yourself. Thinking on your feet. You learned your uncle was a Fullmire, maybe has been for years, and barely blinked. The magic itself, you can learn, but without courage and discipline, it is worthless. I thought your presence was an annoyance, then a matter of suspicion; but if nothing else, you have the potential. Melanie, well…” “Give her a break. You basically bullied her into there.” “I wanted to give her an easy first task, something to help her acclimate to her new life. But she’s still acting like this is a bad dream, something that will disappear with the dawn. Her grandfather will certainly try, but I simply don’t think she is Warden material.” Tabby idly kicked the white plaster walls, watching her skirt flutter in and out of view. He wasn’t wrong; Melanie just wasn’t built for this. She was built for a lot of things that Tabby wasn’t, but not this. “What would I even do? I can’t be a cop, and it’s not like there’s schools for this stuff. So just go from town to town shooting anyone who looks a little off?” “I can’t imagine that would end well,” he said. “But if you are being serious…when Marksteppers venture into the civilized world, we stick out like thorns. When circumstances allow, we find locals to help us blend in. In exchange, we teach them our own magic, so they are not left adrift when we depart.” “So I’d be your celebrity handler, keeping the papparazzi away? Maybe change up your wardrobe a bit so you don’t look like a Russian hitman?” Lynd smiled. “If nothing else, you can explain what that sentence means.”

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abluescarfonwaston · 2 years

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Jurassic Park au

“It is every paleontologists dream that these bones we so painstakingly recover are restored. That those bright children's novels with pictures be made real. The bones we stare up at with such love move and breathe. That we could return them to life.”

This is what Von Karma tells them. Him and Franziska. Hand raised to caress the triceratops casted skull that fills one of the living rooms. The original is in Von Karma’s laboratory. Father’s old laboratory. Before Father-

“I am going to restore them. Return them to life.” Von Karma’s old- much older than Father’s - old and gentle face smiles down at him. A hand reaches down and squeezes his shoulder. Franziska watches her Father with gleaming eyes, leaning so far forward she’s almost falling of the couch. “As your Father wanted.”

He thinks of the countless hours Father spent in the lab. That He spent watching Father. Asking ceaseless questions to him and everyone else in the lab.

The even longer hours spent out on the dig sites. Boiling in the sun. How many times had father had to carry him back to the tent and soak him in water cause he’d overheated? He didn’t like the dig sites.

Not until Phoenix anyway. Phoenix and Larry- the only two other kids (His age even!) brushing off dust from rocks the adults knew weren’t bone. That Larry knew as soon as someone told him about licking rocks verses bone.

Those hours spent trying to teach them how to pronounce Epidexipteryx. Laughing at the failures. Squirting each other with water and scrambling up shale and rock. The joy of that summer. Him in his oversized sunhat and its massive brim. Phoenix in his baseball cap for a sports team none of them knew. Larry with his burned red ears.

“Let me help.” Von Karma’s face is so gentle he can hardly bare it. “Please. I want to finish Father’s work.”

“Of course Miles Edgeworth.” Franziska tuts from his side. Twists around and props herself against his knees. “Papa’s going to make an entire Park full of them. And I am going to run it. The whole thing.”

It sounds like a dream. A fairy tale or video game. Von Karma turns to the breathtaking casting. Steadying hand still warming his shoulder. “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Please. Please sir. Let me help.”

Von Karma smiles at him. “I’ll introduce you to the team.”

“Where is it? Those fools were not lying were they? I will string them up by their neckties if they lied to me!”

Her little brother sits, chair pulled up to an incubator. Coos. Ignoring her completely. Its a much nicer sound than he usually makes when she finds him curled up in that chair. They were doing so well Franziska. I’m so sorry little one. I’m so sorry.

Don’t let Papa hear you say that. They’re just cells. He will think you soft Miles Edgeworth. “It worked.” Marvels at the little thing answering Miles coos with its own tiny noises. A triceratops lives and breathes.

“I was thinking Missile or Pess. What should I call him?”

You should call him Specimen one. Not give him a name. “Missile is a name for a carnivore. Unless we have estimated their diets terribly Pess will have to do.” Pess. She could come up with an acronym for Pess. One to sell to Papa and the papers if it lived.

“Ngh... What if I did? What if we can’t figure out how his modified digestive track works and he starves?” He stood. Stupid height pressing down on her as he cradled Pess to his chest. Thumb smoothing over its delicate little frill. Paced. “Why didn’t we start with a carnivore? Protien is inherently simpler to replicate!”

“Because carnivores are dangerous.”

“Hippos kill more than sharks and wolves Combined!” He snarled like they hadn’t had this discussion multiple times.

“Try telling the public that. If it dies you grow another one until you get it perfect. As always.”

He squeezes his eyes closed. Nods. Like the notion doesn’t kill him. Like every rotten egg doesn’t crush his lungs. She knows it does. Even if everyone else is too foolish to.

“Work hard for Pess, Miles Edgeworth. I’ll inform Papa of the good news.”

“That Rich ASSHOLE!” The birds in the exhibit scattered. “Thinking he can buy me with his salary and health care! Well jokes on him. I already Have health care! I don’t need his fucking blood money!” Scrubbed the drained concrete pool with such force he thought Mia might break it. Concrete or no.

“... But its a chance to work with Dinosaurs Mia. Whole new Species!” Her lip quivered. Rage or disgust. “Plus we don’t even have dental. Or vision. Are you actually making enough to pay your student loans? Cause I had to get a fourth roommate.”

“I’m paying my loans!”

“The bare minimum?”

She didn’t answer. Zoology didn’t pay well. Even if you were the top of the field. At least when you considered the private school Mia had gone to. “I was 18- desperate to leave my clan’s house-” Clan? “Shut up Phoenix. And they offered me all these great loans! The fucking loan sharks!”

“Don’t get it twisted Wright. That bastard is going to fuck up and those dinosaurs are going to fuck up the entire ecology of life on earth!” Grabbed him by the hat tassles. Squeezed until he couldn’t breathe. “If he and that dumb brat gave a shit about genetics or zoology or ecology or ANYTHING aside from lining their fucking pockets they’d be bringing back animals we made extinct Last Year! Not the ones that had to get wiped off the face of the earth for us to have a chance to survive!”

She releases him all at once. He collapses to the cement and gasps. They both catch their breath. He doesn’t think about what she said. Her arguments or points. Valid as they are.

Thinks instead of the photo in the newspaper. Mad scientist or genetic wizard? Miles Edgeworth brings dinos back to life. Miles stern face in that red lab coat as Pess the triceratops chews on his sleeve. Glaring at the camera. Three more horned and frilled little babies tussle at his feet like strangely shaped puppies.

“They offered to give you a tour, right Chief? Does it really hurt to humor them? See how badly they're messing up with your own two eyes?” Her nose scrunched. “Evidence is crucial.”

She tapped her push broom. “... I bet they don’t even have enrichment in the enclosures.”

If it got him to Isla Nublar then, “Bet they do.”

#jurassic park au #long post #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #mia fey #more to follow

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familylightfox · 1 year

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@chaosworthy asked:

Thank Chaos the hero had thought to do his shopping before recent events, having hidden the hybrids' gifts away in the underground bunker to be revealed later. With the help of a certain scientist and rabbit, and given the hero's current condition, they were brought to the house, wrapped and ready to go. A way to kill two birds since both Johnny and Kintobor had used it as a way to deliver their own presents. A few new recipes and restaurant vouchers from the rabbit, and new winter gear from the scientist (always practical).

From the hero themselves, Volt would find a longer box that was, technically, more for the two of them as the hero had explained before the hybrid would open it. Only to find, of all things, a keyboard. Arrow knew he didn't need to explain it too much.

Harmony's didn't require much elaboration either, though maybe the mini map didn't make much sense until she unrolled it only to see the various spots the hero had marked on it. All places from his own adventures for her and her teammates to explore on their own. If she wanted.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the holidays in full swing, Volt had expected there would be gifts to exchange. Thankfully he had also planned his out a bit in advance and they had been dropped off by Augustus earlier that morning. He had used the excuse of giving Volt a bit of a check up in the process, but the gifts were presented at the same time as the hero brought theirs.

If the flutter of excitement that flowed between them hadn’t given it away, the bright shimmer in violet eyes hopefully said it all. Careful fingers brushed along the keyboard, his smiling only growing as he used his hand to draw his partner into a brief kiss. Allowing him to slip the package onto Arrow’s lap in the process.

Inside the box was a pair of winter boots, similar in style to the hero’s usual sneakers. At least in color and fleece lined to make sure he stayed nice and warm. Alongside them was a matching winter scarf and gloves. “So we can go on a few more walks in the snow when you’re feelin’ up t’ it.”

Harmony had watched her parents before moving to her own gifts, marveling at the boots from her grandfather that actually fit her paws. But as she unrolled the map, the look on her face had brightened tenfold. So many places to explore. Just wait until she could show it to her teammates during their video call.

“I gotta grab yers and daddy’s. Be right back.” Off she zipped up the stairs and back, Volt wincing as he heard her skid across the floor. There wasn’t an incident with a wall, but she wagged her tail as she came back with her gifts.

For her dad was a set of brand new guitar strings and picks, along with a shoulder strap that matched his favorite guitar. The gift for her father was a little simpler but no less special in his eyes. It was a photo from the night of their ceremony, in a beautiful picture frame or a star filled night surrounding them.

“Merry Christmas Dad and Daddy.”

#Ask The Hybrids #Traveling The Multiverse: IC #Free As The Wind: Arrow #Your Love Has Called My Name: Arrow&Volt #Holidays 2022

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conditionaljewel · 2 years

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Imagine if Imogen begins to interpret herself as being the opposite of Laudna upon hearing Dusk's compliment: warm hands, cold heart. And the worst part being that she cannot deny that due to how upset she is... while she is forcing herself to not dwell too much on it, screaming inside all the while.

Yet she tries to keep her walls up nonetheless because it's easier for her to blame Laudna for something beyond her control than to own up and admit that they both need to talk.

She called Laudna a liar, yet can't be honest about her own feelings... it hurts so much, and I really hope that his cold distance falls apart like the unsustainable front that it is, lest she end up with her powers, say, going berserk due to the strain, or to put it in simpler terms, lest she end up the Scarlet Witch or Dark Phoenix.

They can't go back to how things used to be, but they also can't afford to lose each other to their own demons, be they ruddy stormy dreams or a widowed ghost that just won't go away.

I will be totally honest, I am not a really big Marvel girl so I haven't watched Wanda, and I never was one for X-men, but I know enough about each to know what you're referring to lol superheroes were just never my thing but anyway

I've been trying to respond to this for the last like three hours (and even longer after last night when I first saw this) and I just have so many thoughts that I'm going to put them all here, because this was a fascinating message to receive and it opened up some portals and thought pathways that I just wanted to extrapolate upon a bit here, so I apologize that this got extremely lengthy. I'm gonna slap it under a read more because of length, spoilers, etc. for those who haven't seen it yet.

"cold hands, warm heart." This whole ask is a really interesting way of framing that particular moment, and it's one that I'd been trying to ruminate on for the past 24 hours or so now, and I'll come back to it in a second. I want to revisit it after I espouse something else, because I think it's indicative of something and I'm glad you brought it up, because it's also a thought that occurred to me could happen - this whole saga between them becoming a sort of catalyst for the evolution of her powers, but the catalyst specifically being her ability (or inability in certain respects) to communicate and open up.

She may be able to block people out mentally and physically, but she's also shown that she can't do it forever, or in heavier crowds - she's almost certainly keeping one up between her and Laudna if no one else, now that we're back in the city - and I feel as though if she were to let herself reach out and just get Laudna's surface thoughts, she'd see that Laudna were equally as distraught, as we saw while they were together in the air. Laudna's trying, timing being shite as it is when she did, but Imogen would see that Laudna were worried all the same.

I don't think that we'll end up with a Phoenix/Scarlet Witch sort of situation, at least not as far as becoming villainous - I'll be honest, and this is me metagaming it a little, I'm only a little surprised that there was not a conversation had between Matt and Laura/Imogen where her alignment was changed after she scorched The Verdict - but rather I think there'll be a shift in her energy and powers and (moon related or otherwise) she'll continue to learn more of the abilities she has and harness and control them. Sometimes, you've got to go through hell to get stronger, and to her, hell is Laudna seemingly breaking a promise.

And I know this was Imogen-centric but I want to touch on Laudna for just a moment. I can only help but imagine that Laudna's thinking, after "the worst thing that has ever happened to me has already happened," that surely, this is the worst thing that has ever happened to her (and now possibly, so far; Matt is a bastard and I love and hate him for this). She's unsure of what the rock was, what just happened, what Delilah did, what that feeling was, and now on top of that she's unsure of what Imogen thinks of her. Imogen called her a liar. Laudna's likely been called a lot of things but I am willing to bet she's never been called a liar before, not by someone she loves. So when she does try to reach out to her and Imogen gives the cold shoulder or that sharp "no" in response, she's really feeling that wall not just mentally but physically as well, and she's really not sure how to deal with that, on top of everything else.

I really don't know what Imogen is thinking with regards to calling her a liar though. (Edit: I misspoke, I know why she called Laudna a liar; I am extrapolating and simply am just following the thoughts thereafter.) Part of me wonders if she's not convinced it was Delilah controlling Laudna in that moment, and Laudna just did something with her rock after she promised not to? Part of me wonders if she thinks it was Delilah controlling her all along, and Laudna acted under her control and lied to her so she could use the rock for her? Is she thinking

So now going to Dusk saying Laudna may have "cold hands, warm heart," and the idea of Imogen perceiving herself as the opposite now, it's a peculiar phrase and thought process but it's absolutely indicative of the ability and inability to communicate that Imogen possesses. Yeah sure, she has the capability to touch others and warm them and comfort them, but she can also keep up walls and shut someone out very quickly, and hurt someone when she really wants to. This lines up with the aforementioned roasting of The Verdict. That was cold hearted if I ever saw it.

And being someone who is such a people person the way that she is, unique as it be, she would not ever accept herself to be someone like that. She may not be the bubbly happy-go-lucky type of people-person that Laudna is, but that's what makes her so lovely and unique and special to Imogen, and is all the more of a reason to open up and communicate with her so that she can get back to hearing that symphony from her. Imogen may be a bit stern, a bit rough around the edges, but when she cares, she cares deep and hard, and when she hurts, it's just as emphatic. She's just so caught up in her own maze of emotions that she can't see that Laudna is hurting just as badly, just as intensely, and perceives the interaction between Dusk and Laudna to be more than just Laudna putting on a happy face.

Now for the last thing I'll say, I know this is also a bit metagamey, but I'm just throwing this out there because I feel like it needs to be said: I don't think there's much of a way (read: it's barely a not-0% chance) that Erika would have known what happened at the end of the prior episode that would have prompted Dusk to have said something about a "warm heart" to Laudna, so I am trying very hard to just take this as a cordial compliment and greeting that she's giving to her just to simply say it matters not what you are but what's in your heart... Even if I fully expect Matt to take that line and twist it into something more in the next few days (episodes)

So that being said, it absolutely makes sense that Imogen could be feeling this way, and having that self-perception that could further impede her ability (or enhance her abilities). I do think that they could get back to where they were, any real relationship can if the time and effort and work is put into it -- that's what makes it so special -- but even in the realm of D&D and Exandria, and for our Southern Gothic belles, the possibility is there, they both just need to open up at the right time and be truthful to one another about everything.

And hell, just as a bonus after-thought to entertain the idea, I googled Dark Phoneix and Scarlet Witch... I'd love to see a PC go completely rogue and turn villainous a la Scarlet Witch or Dark Phoenix, that would be some pretty dope shit if Laura continued to control her while the rest of them had to subdue/etc., very Molly-esque but without the NPC part lol. I think it'd be an interesting angle to take in a game, certainly isn't without it's own plot hooks and twists, and I could honestly see both of them doing it in some form -- Delilah assuming full control over Laudna, and Imogen going full glowing-eyed-floating-hair-flying Dark Phoenix. That'd actually be kind of fun.

Wait, Jean Grey was in space, huh... and was hit with some cosmic energy... you don't say... hmm... so, we're getting Dark Phoenix in Exandria, aren't we?

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #campaign 3 spoilers #campaign 3 #critical role #bell's hells #laudna #imogen #word vomit #text post #ramblings of a southern gothic shipper #i hope some of this made sense #but at any rate #i just want my loves to be back together #thanks for the ask!

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