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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months

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What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don��t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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wintersera · 7 months

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under the moonlight || kim minjeong

pairing: wolf hybrid!winter x fem!reader

! smut smau !

— on a cold winter night you were strolling down the street getting some snacks when you spot a shivering puppy curled up outside. as an empath you felt horrible for the poor pup- now… bringing it back home wasn’t exactly the best idea.

tags: nonidol au, college au, smau, wlw, crack, smut!!!, fluff

cw: smut smau (so yk sex), swearing, offensive jokes, kys jokes, mentions of heat. (more will be added….)

features: aespa, le sserafim (except eunchae), loona (hyeju/heejin/hyunjin), ive (wonyoung/yujin) more idols will might be added….

a/n: so basically if you know the movie twilight- they have their own clique and people just think the wolfies are weird wolf kids, and not actually wolf hybrids. IGNORE THE TIME STAMPS AS WELL-

updates: when i can

status: ongoing

PROFILES : wolf gang | y/n’s shooters | extras

CHAPTERS :

01. finally touching grass

02. that’s a whole WOLF?

03. poor puppy (half written)

04. fuckass fursuit (half written)

bonus chpt | squirrel??

05. we’re kababayan

06. IM FREE

07. fuck it, we ball (half written)

08. AUTOCORRECT

09. did you lose the pup

10. wolfy is nowhere to be found

11. feeling feelings

12. help me out (half written)

13. first ever heat (fully written)

14. y/n did WHAT?

15. get in the damn bed

16. head fuzzy as fuck

17. round 2 (fully written)

18. we got a family emergency

19. leaving the premises (half written)

bonus chpt | ice cream gone wrong

20. need her need her need her-

21. shits awkward

22. ???

23. ???

24. ???

25. ???

…MORE COMING SOON!!

TAGLIST (closed)

@slowlydifferentbluebird @alcoholfreenayeon @myouiiiiiiii @uzumakioden @nasyu-kookies @earthto-eden @omgcatherine @skydreamed @wonysugar @pupyuj @jisooftme @jeongggiiiee @silentreader98 @rinapomu @1luvkarina @demtions @wintersgff @prkchaeyo0 @haerinkisser @huhyunjinwifey @haerinfangs @pandafuriosa60 @thefckghost @nr1chaedickrider @baebeefyburrito @sighsam @magicalmilkshaketimemachine @jigujellee @seulblade @yuki3000 @vlance

#wintersera #wintersera: utm #kpop smau #aespa smut #aespa smau #aespa winter smut #kim minjeong #winter aespa smut #winter aespa #aespa winter #aespa x fem reader #fem!reader #aespa x reader smut #aespa x reader #kim minjeong smut #kpop smut

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liminalmemories21 · 4 months

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Year in Review: Favorite Lines

tagged by @iboatedhere. thank you!

RULES: Share your top three/top five/however many favorite snippet(s)/line/quotes/paragraphs from your published fics (or wips, I don’t care!) and don’t forget to share the link of course!

One each from Knave 2 and Knave 3 because they're in conversation with each other.

The Knave of Hearts . . . he said he'd steal no more

“You didn't steal me, TK,” he says softly. “I’m here because I want to be, eyes open, and my choice. You didn’t con me, and I don’t want anything from you except you.”

TK’s hand tightens on his shirt, and he laughs faintly. “You say that like it isn’t everything.”

The Knave of Hearts . . . brought back the tarts

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep the Leyendecker for you.” She laughs ruefully, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself, I know how much you loved it, how much it tore at you that you had to give it up for me. I’m sorry I couldn’t give it back to you.”

TK’s voice is amused. “I went straight, Jack, I couldn’t have kept it anyway.” He pauses. “And it turns out I don't need it as much anymore. I have the real thing now, I don’t need to look at a painting of a possibility.”

“You’re really happy?” She sounds dubious, but willing to be convinced.

“I really am. I love my job. I love Carlos. I love the life I have here. I know it’s not what either one of us imagined, because I didn’t know how to imagine this. But I’m not running anymore, not from or to. I think I’ve found where I’m supposed to be.”

We Were in Screaming Color (Chpt 1 & Chpt 11)

okay, so I love this partly because I put this in Chapter 1 so I could have a pay off in Chapter 11. I don't know if anyone else remembered that 11 chapters later, but it was on purpose and I like the symmetry.

Chapter 1

Once, staring at his ceiling gritty-eyed and unable to sleep during the endless months after he bought the loft, he’d cataloged the way TK uses pet names; a grim taxonomy of words he thought he’d forfeited the right to hear.

Babe is casual. It's a substitute for his name. It's an interjection, or the exclamation point to a sentence.

Baby is more intimate. Sometimes it’s teasing, and sometimes it’s serious, but it’s always affectionate.

TK had tried darlin' once and promptly made a face and admitted he didn't have the drawl he needed to pull that off.

Sweetheart is only ever for the two of them, soft and private.

Always Carlos, unadorned, when TK wants to be sure Carlos is listening, when TK needs to be sure that Carlos understands that what he's saying is important.

Hearing TK say babe now is a relief. TK wouldn't be using it if things were broken.

Chapter 11

TK still looks troubled. “I don’t want to lose you to this. I don’t want you to let this eat at you. I get that you want answers, but what happens if you can’t get them? When do you stop looking?”

“Not yet,” he snaps. “It’s barely been a week, and nobody else seems to even be asking the question, let alone looking for an answer. He deserves better than that. He gave his entire life to the Rangers, don’t they owe him something in return?”

“Carlos, no.” And TK’s words are gentle, but his tone is sharp, sharper than TK usually is. “Your dad lived for his family, not for his job. At the funeral, the people who showed up came for your mom, for your sisters, for you, because your dad’s legacy isn’t his work, it’s his family. Don’t take that away from him.”

tagging @rmd-writes, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @paperstorm, @strandnreyes, @heartstringsduet in return.

#tarlos #911 lonestar #year in review #2023 wrap up

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uselessroyals · 2 years

Text

fanfic recommendations

(because i read a lot of fanfiction) (also all of these are wilmon except like one bc of course they are) (i now have another list with more recommendations here!)

oneshots

"let's start a revolution" by huojuvuus what if wilhelm admitted it was him in the video, 1k words

"eyes full of stars" by buttercupkisses erik surprises wilhelm at the parent's lunch and meets simon, 3k words

"grin" by but_at_least_i_have_an_iced_coffee erik falls into a coma instead of dying and now he's awake, but now knows nothing about the sex scandal or simon or wilhelm's less-than-straightness, 2.1k words

"we could call it even" by loyaulte_me_lie eight years post canon, simon and wilhelm fall back into each other’s orbits, this time everything goes right, 12.7k words

"a baby heart attack, if you will" by paldogangsaan wilhelm’s mother sets him up with a respectable rich girl who just happens to make a deal with wilhelm to give the queen of sweden a “non-lethal heart attack.” (For legal reasons, that is a joke), wlw/mlm solidarity, very funny, 9.7k words

"the revolution will not be televised (but it will be put on instagram)" by pissedofsandwich post season 1, simon deals with the immediate aftermath of wilhelm's denial, felice and wilhelm concoct a juvenile plan to get the invasive press off simon's back, 17.9k words

"worst kept secret in history" by toffeelemon post season 1, wilhelm decides to say fuck what people think and fix his relationship with simon, fluffy, 10k words

"only fools rush in" by toffeelemon au, it actually wasn't wilhelm in that video and simon and wilhelm are best friends, 22.3k words

multichaps

"We should just kiss (like real people do)" by sofia_with_an_f a post-season 1 character study fic, lots of angst and introspection, 15/? chpt, 31k words

"international relations" by spa_ghetto crossover with red white and royal blue, post season 1 simon runs into alex claremont-diaz on the bus and they become friends, 5/5 chpt, 21.7k words

"call me up late" by royalwilmon au, simon gets the wrong number and accidentally texts wilhelm, lots of fluff and humour, 20/20 chpt, 29.1k words

"only fools remain sane" by Elin98 fake dating au, wilhelm convinces simon that they should fake date to see if the crown's recent announcement of accepting same-sex relationships is legit or just for show, 11/11 chpt, 40.5k words

"did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise?" by millie_cheesesteak fake dating/roommates au, simon's toxic ex starts at hillerska and wilhelm decides to help simon show him that he's moved on, 10/12 chpt, 53.7k words

(btw i have a 2nd list with more recs here!)

#i like reading fanfic what can i say #might add more to this later #if/when i've read more #young royals fanfic #young royals #wilhelm x simon #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #wilmon #demeter's rambles

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jennagrinsoverml · 2 years

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Asker's ask game- 1)fave fic of yours is also all-time fave; la soeur of ma coeur (I've butchered that title, I'm sorry). 2) favourite chapter maybe your latest Learning to See? I love the pining & the whole chapter was such a rollercoaster of emotions too! 3) I adore Sabine in The Closest Thing. Her being so Knowing is extra good since we see that in Qilin but you wrote it before that came out. Your Adriens are always really good too with his self-deprecation & puns & being a cunning linguist

Asker's ask game pt.2 4)love how you write Adrienette so Stupid(affectionate) but tbh you do all sides well, especially the pining. 5) I'm actually not up to date on A Father's Love! I've only read the 1st chpt. I do want to though! Nothing personal, I'm behind on all sorts of things atm (and I'm doing this ask game instead of any of them 🤣). 6) Alya's 'Babe, they're not even dating' is always really vivid to me.

Asker's Ask game pt.3 7) Lila in The Closest Thing makes me teeth-grindingly angry. But most emotional has to be Betrayal. I just can't even with that. 8) I like how the kids always end up happy and together and they kiss. 9) most looking forward to more Learning to See and Betrayal. 10) you definitely opened my eyes to Ladrien. 11) I hope you write like an epilogue to your Love is Blind series with Adrien and Marinette watching the airing show and throwing popcorn at themselves on the screen

Asker's ask game pt.4 12) I've re-read most of your fics lol. Easier to name the ones I haven't, and I'm planning on re-reading them anyway. 13)yeah I made my partner read my favourite and tell him about others. 14) I didn't expect to like The Closest Thing! I'll explain more when I get around to commenting on the actual fic but I had some hang ups about aged-up fics among other things that I quickly realised were stupid.

Asker's ask game pt5 15) not a question about any one fic but just in general; how do you do it? Like you mum and you work and you put ridonkulous effort into your rec lists and then you have OTHER fandoms/interests too and (i'm assuming) housework and a social life, and yet you ALSO content-create and it's phenomenal and just how?? Cause wow. I wish I had your time-management skills.

I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to respond to this, but I’ve been too busy screaming and crying because this is just such a wonderful thing to receive in your inbox??? I like don’t even know how to respond except to tell you how much this means to me, how it basically made not just my entire day, but my entire week (which has been especially appreciate as last week was kinda rough) and just !!!!! Thank you so much 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

As for how I do it hahaha I don’t know that my time management skills are very good. If anything, I feel like my priorities are often out of whack. Like I didn’t meet my targets at work last year and that’s definitely due in part at least because of me focusing on writing and fandom things when I shouldn’t have been. (Part of it was not having proper childcare and just being absolutely exhausted and burnt out. The fandom stuff was my way of handling the burn out though soooo 🤷‍♀️)

In terms of the recs lists and such, it helps that I read fairly quickly. I also X out of fics I’m not enjoying fairly quickly. I DNF more fics that I finish. And being a frequent commenter means that if a fic sounds familiar, I can flip to the comments to figure out if I enjoyed it or not. And reading is my preferred method of relaxing so that works well for finding fics I want to rec. I email myself the good ones when I’m done with some key words for later, and then it’s just the write ups that require some real effort. And I guess I probably don’t need to go that hard buttttt I do lol

The writing definitely eats up a lot of time, but writing on my phone is a great way of making the most of the time I have since it means I can write when I’m lying down with my kids as they fall asleep or while riding in my car or waiting at the doctor’s office or whatever.

As for the housework...my house is kind of a disaster lol. No, it’s fine, just a bit messy but I’ve accepted that’s going to be the case with kids. My husband also shares in household and kid duties equally with me, which is huge. Like I really can’t overstate how wonderful my husband is. There’s no way I could do what I do without him.

Thanks again for such a wonderful series of answers 💖💖💖

(For the Fanfic Askers ask game)

#ask games #people are kind #my thoughts

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sagemcmae · 3 years

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Happenstance - Master Post

Looking for a fresh start, Kagome returns to her alma mater. Everyone at Hogwarts is happy to have her on staff. Everyone, except Professor Taisho. The former Auror makes it clear that she’s unwelcome in the castle.

But, the surly professor isn’t the only thing Kagome has to worry about. Narakus is hunting her. Each of his attempts to capture her, threats to reveal who— and what —she really is.

Now COMPLETE!

#masterpost #happenstance #sesskag fanfiction #sesskag fanfic #sesskag #harry potter au #hogwarts #healer kagome #professor sesshomaru #sessxkag

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ba-responds · 4 years

Text

Catharsis (Villain!Deku x Fem!Reader) Chapter Eleven

A/n: After months of nothing, finally, here is a new chapter! Now this chapter does switch point of views a few times but should be easy to understand.

Now, when the next chapter will be out...I’m not sure. I will try my best to get it up within the next month, since there is some real action, but no guarantee.

This story will contain dark themes! Please read the warning!

Summary: An unexpected death of a loved one can lead to a sudden influx of emotions. Those same emotions can become repressed, as denial and disbelief comes into play. In this time, one would seek a means of catharsis, a release from those strong, repressed emotions. But what would you do if that means of catharsis, the same release you sought so hard for, becomes addicting? To the extent, that you feel you can not live without it? What if it can’t live without you?

**WARNING: This story MAY contain; bullying, suicide, depression, torture, manipulation, mentions of sexual assault, and MORE! You have been warned.

Masterlist

Prologue II Chpt 1 II Chpt 2 II Chpt 3 II Chpt 4 II Chpt 5 II Chpt 6 II Chpt 7 II Chpt 8 II Chpt 9 II Chpt 10 II Chpt 11 II

Chapter Eleven: Suppressed Emotions and Intrusive Thoughts

Standing on one side of Shigaraki, you could feel dozens of eyes on you. Shigaraki was making a few minor remarks to the group of low level villains who stood before you, all reeking of anticipation. In only a few minutes, Kurogiri will be opening a portal into USJ, where you will find All Might, and destroy him. Everyone in the warehouse was excited, all had been waiting for the day that their names would go down in history; who wouldn’t remember the names of those who took down the Symbol of Peace? It would be revolutionary! The start of a new era!

And yet, your stomach churned with guilt.

Even taking a longing glance at the love of your life, who stood protectively on the other side of Shigaraki, didn’t fully erase the budding guilt that seemed to plague you.

You shouldn’t feel guilty.

Why the hell should you? Who cares that you shared information of everyone’s quirks in class 1-A? You barely knew them anyway, it's not like you made best friends with any of them.

No, your best friend was right here. And you were doing exactly what he wished: protecting Shigaraki, while also causing a bit of chaos.

And so, you decided to push all the guilty feelings you had in you, into a little box and throw it out the window; metaphorically of course. It was all that you could do, ignore it. It's all that you have been doing with any other feelings you didn’t want to think about.

Block it out.

Why worry about it when there was an even more fascinating and addicting feeling to come.

With that thought, your hand came up to caress the collar around your neck, taking comfort in its weight and coolness. Soon, the collar would be connected to Izuku’s shadows, bestowing upon you the most wonderful feeling you’ve ever experienced. And, with how excited Izuku seemed to be, you surely would be getting the most pleasure from it you have had yet. This caused a smirk to come to your face, giving you the confidence to raise your gaze to the eager crowd below.

You, Shigaraki, Izuku, and Kurogiri stood on a platform, ensuring that you were seen by all; as well as displaying your dominance over everyone else.

You were the League of Villains, you shouldn’t be looked down upon by anyone.

“Ready up! The game begins in 2 minutes!” Shigaraki called out, the crowd erupting in giddy cheers. Despite Father covering most of it, you could see the exhilarated grin that was plastered to his face, causing you to playfully roll your eyes and bump him with your shoulder.

“This level should be exciting,” You muttered in terms he would usually use, the smirk on your face turning playful as both Shigaraki and Izuku turned to you with wide smiles. Over the course of the last few days, your relationship with Shigaraki changed from barely tolerating each other, to what you guessed you could call friends. While most of the time you still annoyed each other, after becoming an official member of the League, one of higher ranks too, the both of you seemed to settle your differences for the sake of Izuku, and yourselves.

It was like you both came to the same agreement, without actual words needing to be said. You both were possessive of Izuku, and you both would protect and befriend the other, in order to keep Izuku happy. It was a silent deal that seemed to work in both of your favors; he was able to play videogames with Izuku, while your head was in Izuku’s lap; you were able to cuddle with Izuku on the bed while watching a movie, and Shigaraki would be right there on the floor, making stupid comments about whatever was happening. During the times that Izuku was out causing havoc as Deku, you would annoy keep Shigaraki company while he played a solo game, or he’d bother watch you browse the internet.

“It’s time,” Kurogiri’s deep voice seized all of your attentions, making you grin eagerly at Izuku, who then crossed in front of Shigaraki to get to your side. His hand clasped yours, giving you a small squeeze.

“Show time, Love. Let’s show them the result of all the training you’ve been through,” He murmured, before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Eyes shining brightly at the given affection, you nodded, feeling butterflies settle in your stomach. Izuku’s shadows came out to cloak his face, some of them moving towards you to connect.

Peeking over to Kurogiri, you could see him readying his warpgate, with Shigaraki preparing the Nomu to enter. Shigaraki would enter first with the Nomu, followed by Izuku and you, then finally the rest of your people.

Eyes going back to Izuku, now officially Deku, you met his glowing green eyes, before the shadows made their connection with your collar. Your vision immediately went black, all of your senses dulling considerably. As the first rush of pleasure took over you, you could feel just how thrilled and nervous he was; it sending you to your knees in an instant, a low gasping groan leaving your lips. You could feel your body quiver at the feeling, your jaw clattering as if you were freezing; and it somewhat felt as if you were, as if a frozen fire was running through your veins instead of blood.

“We must go, my love,” a voice---no, no, Deku’s voice whispered in your head. Shakily raising to your feet, you let the connection lead you to wherever Deku needed you to go. Feeling the air shift around you, you knew you just stepped into the warpgate.

Show time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bakugo’s jaw clenched at the sound of his carefree classmates having loud conversations on the bus. School was only back in session since yesterday, and it seemed as if most of the class just ignored the disappearance of one of their own.

No, no that was a lie, and Bakugo knew it. The class hasn’t been the same since the disappearance; today was the first day in which everyone seemed happy in class, it was their first class trip after all. Most of the class used (Y/n)’s the disappearance as a motivator to become even better heros; to save those they called friends.

But the thought of her caused Bakugo’s chest to tighten, the weight seeming to get harsher. So, Bakugo ignored it. Everyone in class could clearly see how the disappearance affected him; he was even more malicious and explosive than before, and the dark bags under his eyes had gotten darker since the video emerged. But, they knew not to ask him about it; Kirishima did the day before, and that ended in disaster; Kirishima should be thankful for his quirk, or else he probably would have gotten hurt. Still, Kirishima sat beside Bakugo, making sure that he was never alone.

“All right class, we’re here,” Aizawa announced, drawing the attention of everyone on the bus. Bakugo was the first out of his seat, ready for whatever task they’d be doing for the day. Stepping out of the bus with Kirishima on his side, Bakugo marched eagerly towards the door, ignoring whatever spiel Aizawa was going on. The large doors to USJ towered over him, his eyes examining it, before turning to gaze upon the faces of his classmates. They all watched Aizawa with determined, excited looks. It made Bakugo’s heart clench.

She should have been here.

She would have been here.

Not my fault.

Bakugo clenched his teeth, closing his eyes with a deep breath to rid himself of the thought. Movement happened around him, alerting him of the classmates who were now passing him to enter the building. He scurried forward, ensuring his place in front of the crowd, Kirishima never leaving his side even as he shoved past their classmates aggressively.

Bakugos gaze fell upon another figure, a person in a large space-suit looking hero costume, who he assumed to be the extra teacher Aizawa mentioned in class earlier. Half-listening to the lecture the person, who he heard was named Thirteen, was giving, Bakugo let his attention shift to the different contrasting environments that encompassed the building.

Rescue training. He could do it. His quirk was compatible with nearly all the environments he could see, except for the large body of water that he spotted. As long as his hands didn’t get completely soaked, his explosions should----

“--Is that a part of the training?” Kirishima spoke out next to Bakugo, his hand raised to point off in the distance, catching the blond’s attention. Bakugo let his gaze follow Kirishima’s pointing, seeing a growing purple splotch hovering in the air near the center of the room. Curiously, he stepped forward, attempting to see the shape better, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Wait!” Aizawa called, stretching his arm to block both Bakugo and Kirishima from stepping closer, his gaze steeled as a hand escaped from the purple portal. “Those are villains.”

Time seemed to slow as everyone registered what he had said. The portal opened larger and more of the body was able to be seen, until finally, a full figure stepped out.

“Thirteen! Gather the students,”

A man stepped out, covered in what looked to be disembodied hands. Next came a hulking, grotesque figure which towered over the hand man.

Then came a site that rendered class 1-A and its teachers immobile for a few seconds, as shock and fear clawed at them

Bakugos eyes widened. His throat seemed to close, as a rough cry tried to escape his mouth.

Not my fault.

There she was.

Not my fault

On her knees, mouth agape, drool dripping from the corner of her lips; her head teetering every which way, her eyes clouded black. Her body was quivering, her hands clawing around her own chest as if trying to force herself to get a grip on reality, like some drug addict trying to grasp onto something, anything, that was real. Her chest seemed to heave as a few tears managed to escape her clouded eyes. A large collar sat around her neck, a black shadow tentacle connecting her to the person by her side

She looked utterly pathetic.

NOT MY FAULT.

And next to her, the owner of the shadow tentacle, was the bastard Deku.

NOT MY FAULT.

Not my…

It’s my fault.

IT’S MY FAULT.

IT’S ALL MY FAULT.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Toshinori Yagi, better known as All Might, trudged his way closer to the door of the townhouse he has frequented often as of late. His body ached and was tired from doing the duties of the Number One Hero, but he ignored it in favor of knocking gently at the door. As he waited, he glanced down at the watch on his wrist, wincing a bit at the time it displayed.

He was late. He was due at USJ in any minute, and yet he wasted his time limit to stop petty criminals. And now that he could no longer face the class as All Might, he decided it was the optimal time to pay a visit to a friend, where he could hopefully get at least a bit of rest.

Speaking of, the door finally cracked open, to reveal that friend, Inko Midoriya. She looked much better than she had the first time he had visited her, and has been looking better with every visit he made. Her hair looked as if she recently brushed and washed it, and despite she was still in pajamas at such a late hour, she looked healthy. And happy.

Her green eyes widened at the sight of Toshinori, her brows furrowing.

“Uh--Toshinori, w-what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Uh, yeah, but the principal let me take the rest of the day off, so I figured I should stop by for a few…” Toshinori muttered, a light blush forming on his cheeks. Inko paused, hesitating for a minute as she looked past him, before opening the door wider with a smile.

“Oh, o-of course, come in,” She encouraged, allowing him to pass her, before she closed and locked the door. Toshinori made his way through the familiar living room, to the spot he would usually take. He glanced around as he did so, taking note that it looked as if Inko had made a major improvement in cleaning since he last was there.

“Would you like some tea? Or something to eat?” Inko questioned, smiling at Toshinori. He hesitated, shocked at the smile that she had given him. She barely smiled before now, she must have made a major improvement in her mental health.

“Uh--Yes please, to both. A-Anything is fine,”

Inko nodded as she made her way into the kitchen. Toshinori smiled weakly to himself, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. He wasn’t sure what helped her get over the wall that was her depression, but he hoped he was one of the reasons she kept pushing on.

Breathe.

“Did that trip to USJ get cancelled? Is that why you were allowed to get the day off?” Her voice called out from the kitchen, catching Toshinori’s attention.

“Uh, no. Actually they should be there now. I just--I had a long morning, so Principal Nezu allowed me some time off. I’m not really needed there anyway, the other teachers are still going,”

“Ahh--Well, that’s good! As long as the other teacher’s are there, I’m sure the children will be fine. You told me before that All Might is going too, right?”

“Y-Yeah, he’s still going I-I think,” Toshinori lied, wincing at the way he stuttered. The question about All Might caught him off guard, he had momentarily forgotten that he told her that before.

“Good!” Inko said cheerfully as she entered the room with a tray.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ojiro felt his heart clench at the sight of the girl he had once befriended. He could feel tears well up behind his eyes, his breath coming short and his knees felt weak. He could feel Hagakure grasp his arm, as she tried to balance herself from the shock.

Was this what being a hero will be like? To have to witness the destruction of a person? To witness the inevitable fall of a friend? To know someone will never recover from what had happened to them? Was this what it meant to be a hero? To be too late to stop the trauma from occurring, only helping after it already began?

He’s too young for this. He signed up to be a hero, not to become a victim. Not to witness a friend being tortured.

Was this what they called the real-life hero world?

If it was, he was utterly unprepared.

I’m not ready.

The class around them was silent for a good few moments, no one daring to move, as if if they stayed still long enough, this sick reality would fade away. It wasn’t long before Aizawa finally called out gruffly.

“Thirteen. Get the class out of here. Kaminari, try to signal for help.”

Ojiro was finally able to tear his gaze away from (Y/n), finding his gaze landing upon Aizawa as he strode forward, an aura of pure rage surrounding him. Nobody protested when he leapt from the platform they were on, making a speedy descent towards the rushing group of villains who let out gleeful cries as their opponent approached.

“Let’s go,” Thirteen called quickly, stepping forward to usher those closest to the front towards the door. However, Ojiro felt as if his feet were glued to the floor, his gaze locked back onto (Y/n), who was now shakily getting onto her feet, her body jolting and swaying as she did so. With every jolt and shake her body struggled with, he felt as if a piece of his heart shattered, the pit in his stomach deepening.

Before he could see what was about to transpire upon her standing, the hold on his arm jerked him backwards, snapping his attention to Hagakure.

“L-let’s go. If we leave to get help, that’ll give Thirteen the chance to come back to help,” She muttered, pulling him after his reluctant classmates.They didn’t make it far though, as a portal opened up not far from them, out stepping the creator of the warp-gate, Deku, and a shaking (Y/n).

Ojiro’s heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest.

I’m not ready.

“Hello, we are the League of Villains. So sorry for impeding on your lesson, but we’ve decided to invite ourselves to this event. Isn’t this the most fitting place for the Symbol of Peace to meet his downfall?” The warp-gate said almost tauntingly, forming his body from the portal he once was. Deku stood next to him, the shadows he used to cover his face doing little to help hide the wide, manic grin plastered on it, nor did it hide the gleaming, glowing green eyes that bore into the students with excitement.

And finally, standing so close to Deku that it almost seemed intimate, was (Y/n). She stood more stable than before, though the dazed, nearly pained look on her face didn’t leave, nor did her hands stop from running up and down her arms and across her collarbone; fingering grazing at the thick, dense, metal collar wrapped around her neck. Her head still swayed in random directions as though her head was too heavy to keep upright, but the amount of quaking her body did seemed to slow significantly; her body only jerking slightly every handful of moments.

A blur suddenly shot past Ojiro, the explosion that rang from it only registering moments later.

“No!” Thirteen yelled, attempting to stop Bakugo as he shot forward.

For a split second, it seemed as if everything had slowed. Ojiro could clearly see the pure unadulterated rage that enveloped Bakugo, his gaze solely focused on Deku. Bakugo’s face was scrunched in pure fury, his gauntlet covered hands rising mid-air to aim at the villain, a bright light forming from within it as he prepared his attack. Deku, in return, stood straighter than before, ready for whatever blow was being thrown at him; his grin widening even further, his eyes filling with a spark that almost seemed playful, full recognition in them, as if he spotted an old friend heading towards him in a crowd.

Ojiro had heard the rumors. The ones that said that it was Bakugo who caused Deku to become who he is. That Bakugo and Deku were once childhood friends, and Bakugo then became Deku’s own personal living hell, therefore becoming (Y/n)’s as well. Paired with the knowledge that Bakugo was the reason that (Y/n) ran from the school into Deku’s attack, as well as witnessing first-hand the hatred (Y/n) held towards him, Ojiro felt a deep-seated sense of resentment towards the fellow blonde, despite seeing the pain the boy had been through throughout the last couple of weeks due to guilt.

And frankly, Ojiro slightly hoped that Deku would hurt Bakugo right then. Hurt him for being the cause of all of this. Hurt him for hurting (Y/n). End his career before it all began, because the world didn’t need a ‘hero’ like Bakugo.

Because Bakugo was far from a hero. He was the villain in (Y/n)’s story.

And that thought.

That silent wish.

Scared Ojiro more than any villain could ever.

Was this what being a hero was truly like?

I’m not ready.

~*~

#bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha izuku #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha imagines #mha x reader

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flame-of-the-feather · 4 years

Text

The text I have below is what I have summarized the book

Prologue-It gives a new reader a small glimpse about a odd group of cats. It makes it look like Tigerclaw(Tigercstar) was a cat who had honor. Gives us about how the role of leader and medicine cat are, before everything that happened in the new arcs.

Chpt. 1-When first introduced to rusty(Firestar)It looks like he's a wild cat who plays with his prey, but turns out to be a dream of a housecat. Later we're introduced to Graypaw(Graystripe) and he show's that wild cats are proud to be wild cats and don't like house cats. He also mentions Thunderclans and Shadowclans rivalry We introduced to Bluestar and Lionheart and we find out how the cat education system works. Also it mentions that the clans struggle with food

Chpt. 2-It opens to were the 1st chpt. ends. Rusty learns that life in the woods isn't easy and he admires them. Bluestar offers him a option to join because she admires that rusty is a different than other housecat, makes you think.

Chpt. 3-Before rusty leaves to meet Lionheart he say goodbye to his kitty pet friends. When he meets Lionheart he noticed that it was just them and when Lionheart told him to check they weren't alone and we met Whitestorm. After Rusty meets them they walk to thunderclans camp and rusty learns that he to not show weakness. They get to camp and rusty learns to recognize smell of cat. When Bluestar tells the clan Rusty was joining them he was challenged by Longtail. They fought during it rusty lost his collar and got his name. After that Ravenpaw says that Redtail was dead.

Chpt. 4-We're showed the way the clan treats their dead. We are told a bit about Starclan. We are also showed that some cats don't think Firestar will make a good warrior since he wasn't clan born.

Chpt. 5-We're showed Thunderclans border, 4 trees, the thunderpath sunningrocks, and snakerocks. We also learn how gatherings work. We are shown how Tigerclaw treats Ravenpaw. We are shown Firepaw's first time hunting

Chpt. 7 Firepaw meets yellowfang and they fight. He also hunts for her even though he knew he was breaking the warrior code. At the a patrol cought them.

Chpt. 8 After the patrol catches them we learn that yellowfang use to be shadowclan's medicine cat. When they get back to camp bluestar shares some news and we learn that Shadowclan drove windclan out of their territory. She also says she is taking firepaw as her apprentice and his punishment for breaking the code is for him to take care of yellowfang.

Chpt. 9 Firepaw takes care of yellowfang and she gets angry at some kits Firepsw ask why and she says bad things happen to kits when they are around her by going to get some herbs from spottedfur. Spottedfur and Firepaw had a moment when he was waiting for her to get the herbs for him. Firepaw notice everyone getting ready incase Shadowclan attacks After that he goes out and hunt for some prey with Graypaw and Ravenpaw.

Chpt. 10 The chapter begins with Firepaw talking to Yellowfang. Bluestar tells him he'll be going with Graypaw, Ravenpaw, and Tigerclaw to do a hunting assessment. Well hunting Fiepaw meets his old kitty pet friend smudge by accidentally attacking him, but stop when he recognized him and then talk to him.

Chpt. 11 When Firepaw and them get back to camp Bluestar wants to talk to Firepaw after Tigerclaw telling her about smudge. She ask him if he wanted to return to being a kittypet, but Firepaw tells her he doesn't want to go back to being a kittypet and that he likes being a clan cat. She also tells him that Tigerclaw was impressed by him. Which made me laugh. She also tells him that he, graypaw, and Ravenpaw that they were going to the gathering.

Chpt. 12 We see that the thunderclan cats have made it to the gathering. We seen the leaders of each clam.At the gathering Brokenstar told the clans he drove windclan out because they didn't want to share pray with the. We also hear Ravenpaw talk about the battle where Redtail died, but Firepaw notice Tigerclaw was looking at Ravenpaw and that Ravenpaw said Redtail killed Oakheart even though when he told thunder clan it was Oakheart who killed Redtail. Brokenstar also accused Yellowfang of harming kits and at the end Firepas rans off to warn yellowfang.

Chpt. 13 We begin with Firepaw trying to get yellowfang to leave, so the cats from the gathering don't attack her, but she said she'll stay. Bluestar tells the clan not to worry about yellowfang and get ready incase Shadowclan attacks the camp. She also says she'll be going to Moonstones to ask Starclan for guidance. We learn that apprentices go there at least once before being a warrior and she chose Firepaw Ravenpaw and Graypaw. Firepaw gets herbs from spottedleaf for the trip and Firepaw and her have a moment. After that Sandpaw wishes them good luck and was nice to Firepaw for the first time.

Chpt. 14 Bluestar Firepaw Ravenpaw Graypaw and tigerpaw head for moonstone. After going threw windclan territory and a thunderpath they made it there.

Chpt. 15 When they get there Bluestar tells Ravenpaw and Graypaw to guard the entrance and telling Firepaw and Tigerclaw to come with her into it. As they go in it there was complete darkness, but the there was the sliver moon light and Bluestar touch moonstone. She wakes up and says they need to get to camp immediately.

Chpt. 16 As they raced to camp they run into a loner named barley and he told them to go a different way since some dogs were lose and so they went but they run into a horde of rats sadly Bluestar lost her 5th life. After Firepaw wrapped Bluestar's wound they keep on heading back to camp.

Chpt. 17. When they get to the camp there was a battle going on with Shadowclan. During the battle Firepaw saw that the Deputy of Shadowclan was trying to steal the kits. Firepaw noticed that Yellowfang was protecting the kits. Sadly at the end of the battle Lionheart died and Bluestar named Tigerclaw her deputy and Firepaw heard Ravenpaw said that Tigerclaw 'Took care of Redtail'

Chpt. 18 After the battle Firepaw went to check on Yellowfang and asking her if she missed Shadowclan she said yes, but the old Shadowclan before Brokenstar. Firepaw overheard Tigerclaw talking to Darkstripe and accusing Ravenpaw of the attack on Thinderclan.

Chpt. 20 In this chapter After hearing where Tigerclaw sent Ravenpaw for hunting Firepaw told him to tell Bliestar. Ravenpaw told Firepaw that Tigerclaw killed Redtail instead of Oakheart and ask Firepaw not to tell Bluestar. Later Bluestar tells Firepaw that she only has 2 lives left not 4 and not to tell anyone. Then a Shadowclan cat stole some new kits and killed Spottedleaf and almost everyone thinks that it was Yellowfang.

Chpt. 21 Right after that Bluestar ask Firepaw to go and find Yellowfang and see if she is guilty. After seeing that Tigerclaw was convincing the clan that Ravenpaw was a traitor Firepaw decided to get Ravenpaw out of the clan before he went to find Yellowfang and telling him he'll lie to the clan saying that he died for the clan.

Chpt. 22 After heading back from where they left Ravenpaw. They followed Yellowfang's sent and when they ran into her she told them that she didn't take kits and when Firepaw and Graypaw told her about spottedleaf she was shocked. She tells them that Brokenstar makes kits train to be warriors before they were 6 years old. She also told them that the reason she was kicked out of Shadowclan because she found out that Brokenstar killed kits while training them and blamed Yellowfang for the kits' deaths.

Chpt. 23 Firepaw told Yellowfang he would convince a patrol from Thunderclan to help them to rescue the kits and Yellowfang tells him and Graypaw she'll get some cats who hate Brokenstar to help them. After getting the cats Yellowfang comes up with a plan to rescue the kits by having the cats she knew to trick Brokenstar thar they captured her and she'll singal the thunderclan patrol to attack.

Chpt. 24 After Yellowfang signaled the Thinderclan cats attacked fighting Brokenstar. During the fight Brokenstar confessed to killing Raggedstar. After finding the kits Whitestorm asked Yellowfang if she wanted to stay with Shadowclan, but Yellowfang wanted to go back to Thunderclan to become the new thunderclan medicine cat.

Chpt. 25 After coming back to the thunderclan camp with the kits Bluestar said thank them for rescuing the kits. He tells them about kicking Brokenstar out of Shadowclan and that he lied saying that a Shadowclan patrol killed Ravenpaw and a the cats that were in the attack except Yellowfang didn't questioned Firepaw about it. At the end Bluestar make him and Graypaw warriors and giving them their new names Graystripe and Fireheart and Tigerclaw threatens Fireheart

#warrior cats #firestar #graystripe #tigerstar #bluestar #sandstorm #yellowfang #intothewild

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rather-impertinent · 5 years

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The Girl Next Door chpt 11

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since I updated this fic, but now that I am free from the shackles of academia, I decided I wasn’t quite finished with this. This chapter is for Vicki (@hopefulfridays), who has been the loveliest beacon of positivity the last few months, thank you for everything gal!

This fic jumps ahead from the previous chapter by about 2 months, but it could also stand alone as an AU so reading the others isn’t necessary imo. Appearances from like every other character too! Much love xo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft peachy glow of the morning sun snuck through a gap in the thick hotel curtains. Caroline sighed and checked the time once again, wincing as the harsh glow of her iPhone blinded her tired and hungover eyes.

“It’s just after half-past six,” she announced, snuggling back underneath the covers and yawning widely. “I should probably go before someone catches me coming out of your room,” she pointed out with a chuckle, but made no attempt to move.

“You should probably should,” Dwight agreed, holding her a little tighter. He ran his hand along her smooth back and thought about how lovely the past two months had been. “Did you have fun last night, my love?”

A soft smile graced Caroline’s face – Dwight had only recently started using a pet name for her and although she usually found them vulgar and cringeworthy, she was pleased that Dwight had chosen such a dignified and lovely one. His soft dulcet tones and the way the words rolled of his tongue helped a little, too. “Mhm,” she hummed, cuddling into him more, evidentially abandoning her attempt to sneak out.

Last night was very fun, she reflected. The wedding itself had been beautiful and a lump had even formed in throat as Emma and Sam exchanged their vows, which was ridiculous, of course, since she probably knew them least of all of Dwight’s friends. Though, of course, Dwight’s friends were now also her friends. Especially Demelza. Oh, what fun they’d had dancing to their favourite childhood songs – it seemed Emma had impeccable music taste. And little Geoffrey Charles had asked her to dance. Caroline immediately felt a little awkward as she had next to no experience with young children, but Francis had simply set Geoffrey Charles securely onto her hip and they had danced to a Maroon 5 song. Dwight had elected to dance with little Julia, letting her stand on top of his shoes, claiming that a certain other young man had stolen his dance partner. The bride, having drank more wine than was probably sensible in order to cope with her nerves, only realised near the end of the night that she had forgotten to throw the bouquet. The single female members of the party had all enthusiastically flocked to the dancefloor, all except Caroline, who only made it after an incredibly encouraging shove on the back from Demelza. To her absolute mortification, the bouquet had fell into her arms, despite every attempt to avoid it. Everyone had been very excited for her and Emma came over to tease her about whoever the lucky man would be. Caroline had been so focused on not meeting Dwight’s eye that she had missed the subtle look that Demelza had given them both.

Silently reflectively on last night, too, Dwight smiled softly as he thought of how he and Caroline had comfortably, if a little bashfully, danced to ‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse. It was strange, Dwight thought, how the world could narrow down to two people, no matter how big the surrounding crowd. “You looked beautiful last night, by the way, incase I haven’t already said,” Dwight whispered into the comfortable silence.

Caroline smiled; he had said so, many times. She would definitely have to wear red more often. “You cut a mighty fine figure in a suit yourself, Dr Enys,” she purred in reply.

“Do I?” Dwight asked, feigning ignorance. He had gathered she thought so by the way she practically ripped the garment off his body about seven hours ago.

Caroline shot him a glance but leaned in for a kiss anyway. “You do,” she confirmed, with an suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Before she could breathe out a laugh, Dwight’s lips had met her own, his hand cupping her face. She sighed at the action, he was such an attentive kisser. Taking the sigh as an encouragement, Dwight smoothly pulled Caroline on top of him, half-sitting up so as not to break the kiss.

Caroline’s heart began to race as Dwight began to kiss her breast, but the daylight that now came flooding in through the curtains was a nagging reminder of how long she had spent in his room and how long she had been since she last showered. “Dwight, if we have sex one more time today, I don’t think I’ll physically be able to walk to my room,” she said, half-laughing as she moved off him. Her resolve likely would not last long, so perhaps it was time to sneak off to her room after all.

“Are you saying I’m good in bed?” Dwight teased as he reclined back against the plump hotel pillows.

“I’d be more worried if you weren’t good in bed, what would be the point in dating a doctor if he didn’t even know where the clit is?” she said seriously. Dwight threw his head back, roaring with laughter. Caroline placed a hand over his mouth to quieten him, though found herself giggling too. “Shhh!” she hissed with a grin as he clutched his sides. “People will think you’ve gone mad, laughing to yourself all alone in here.”

A tear leaked from the outer corner of the doctor’s eye and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He looked at Caroline, whose face was mere inches from his own. Her eyes were still remarkably blue, even when cloudy from excessive alcohol consumption, not to mention the dim light of the room. “I will never get tired of your blunt sense of humour,” he vowed, chuckling still. “I–,” he paused, catching himself. Maybe he had gone a little mad. I love you. “I will honestly never get tired of it.”

With a smug nod of agreement as to her own impeccable sense of humour, Caroline released him and stood up, fetching her black strapless bra from the floor and putting it on. Dwight sat up in bed and rubbed his tired eyes, sighing as exhaustion coursed through his veins as the adrenaline began to wear off. Last night had been worth it though, he thought to himself.

Zipping up her dress, and with a wry purse of her lips, Caroline teased: “Well, I hope you don’t miss me too much in the forty-five minutes I’ll be gone.” She bent down to straighten her black, satin heels before stepping into them.

Dwight got up to walk her to the door. “How ever shall I cope in your absence until breakfast?” he wondered aloud, a sarcastic smirk on his face.

The smirk earned him a gentle tap on the arm and a quick kiss. And another. And then another.

Caroline giggled against his lips, feeling the beginnings of his stubble brush her cupid’s bow. “Okay, I really am leaving now. And you need to shave,” she told him with the arch of her bow.

Dwight scratched his jawline and hummed in agreement. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said with a grin as he opened the door for her to leave.

They both froze immediately at the unexpected sight before them.

Ross and Demelza Poldark stood, if a little drunkenly, in the hallway in front of Dwight’s door with victorious smirks and cocked eyebrows. They high-fived each other enthusiastically before immediately beginning to argue about who had guessed that Dwight and Caroline were in a secret relationship first.

Dwight grabbed his friends by their arms and tugged them into the room and firmly shut the door. “Do you two think you could be any fucking louder?” he hissed at his dearest friends, both of whom wore fixed smiles. “There is a reason we were trying to keep it a secret, but you go ahead, tell the entire hotel!” he invited, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t tempt me because I will,” Demelza warned in a singsong tone. She then squealed and threw herself into Dwight’s arms and then into Caroline’s. “I’m so happy for you both!” She grinned at the couple, her happiness and enthusiasm genuine and infectious. She enveloped them both into a bone-crushing hug once again.

Dwight ducked his head a little, blushing. “Thanks, Dem,” he said a little shyly.

“Thank you, Demelza,” Caroline echoed with a genuine smile.

“Congrats, it’s about fucking time!” was all that Ross commented, though he did look pleased, proud even.

Dwight flashed a smile, before realising that he was standing in front of everyone shirtless and in his boxer shorts. “Thanks mate. Now could all you please get out so I can shower?” he asked rhetorically, leading the three of them to the door.

Ross glanced at Caroline and then at Dwight. “I bet you need one,” he taunted with a suggestive wink.

Redness instantly bloomed on Dwight’s cheeks. Expecting Caroline to be similarly embarrassed, he tentatively glanced at her but was met with an expression of… pride?

“Fucking right,” Caroline stated confidently. “And so do I! You’d think he was a footballer with that stamina, not a doctor!”

Ross burst into peals of laughter as the three of them entered the hallway. He casually threw an arm over Caroline’s shoulder as they made towards their respective rooms. “You know, Caroline, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Ross said philosophically.

Dwight couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight before him. “I hate you both so much,” he called after them. Demelza shot him a sympathetic, but genuine, smile over her shoulder. He closed the door with a sigh, a shake of the head and an irremovable smile.

Almost an hour later, freshly-shaven and suitably-dressed, Dwight arrived downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was quiet, naturally, given it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. His eyes searched the room for a familiar face, and he noticed Demelza’s fiery curls sitting at a table near the back. Making his way there, he passed Morwenna, Drake and Joy having breakfast together at a small table. They exchanged warm smiles and Dwight blew a quick raspberry on Joy’s cheek before promising to catch up with the Carnes later.

“Morning all,” he greeted as he pulled out a chair to sit down. “How are we all this morning?” he asked with a chuckle, feeling he already knew the answer.

“I think I might actually fucking die,” Francis groaned roughly, staring miserably at his untouched scrambled eggs on toast. He pressed the heel of his hands to his forehead. “Elizabeth, why did you let me drink so much?”

“I drank a bit too much myself,” came Elizabeth’s hoarse reply. “I’m starting to feel a bit better now that I’ve eaten though. You should have some toast, Francis.”

Francis shook his head firmly at the mere thought of consuming food. His tired, half-shut eyes met Dwight’s. “How are you, mate?”

“Surprisingly fresh,” Dwight admitted. “It’s amazing what a shower can do!”

“Amen to that,” Ross echoed, cutting a hash brown in half. “I feel completely sober and fresh after a shower. How are you doing, love?” he asked Demelza, who always suffered from terrible hangovers.

“Okay,” she said cautiously, as though trying to convince herself. “I think I’m just tired. I’ll probably go for a sleep in the car on the way home.”

“Mummy, when we go home?” Julia asked as she ceased eating her bowl of cheerios.

“Soon, my lamb,” Demelza answered, cutting into her poached eggs on toast.

“When?”

Demelza sighed wearily. “In a few hours, sweetheart,” Ross elaborated. “You can play with your cousin for a while,” he offered, glancing over to Drake and Morwenna’s table.

Julia seemed very happy with this offer and resumed silently eating her cereal and colouring in her new colouring book, which had been the most incredible distraction both last night and this morning. Demelza made a mental note to google the creator of colouring books and lay some flowers at their grave one day.

“Morning everyone,” Caroline greeted evenly as she entered the dining room. Her face was fresh and make-up free, her hair tied loosely into a messy bun and she wore a fleece and some black sweatpants.

“Oh, my God, that looks so cosy,” Demelza gushed with envy, now wishing she had brought her favourite loungewear with her.

Caroline briefly wrapped her arms around herself, giving herself a quick hug, enjoying the soft fleece of the sleeves against her bare arms. “It is.” She pulled out a chair opposite Dwight and reached for a bowl and some fruit.

A teasing smile spread across Ross’ face. “Doesn’t Dwight have a similar one, too?” He wondered aloud between mouthfuls of his breakfast being silenced by an under-the-table kick from both Dwight and Demelza.

“Perhaps my incredible fashion sense has infected you from across the hall,” Dwight offered casually, shooting a teasing look at Caroline.

She tossed her hair in retort. “You wish, Dr Enys,” she scoffed lightly. “I got it in a vintage shop a few weeks ago, actually. Regardless, I think we can all agree I wear this look better,” she said as she stabbed her fork into her fruit salad.

Dwight masked his smirk with a bite of toast - he knew full well it was, in fact, his jumper. He had been wondering where it had gone just last week. Their eyes met and she winked at him.

Elizabeth took a sip of orange juice, frowning and wincing when she realised it had bits in it. “Caroline?” she said across the table. Caroline looked at her, her eyes curious. “I went by your room last night, but you didn’t answer.”

“What time did you knock?” Caroline asked smoothly, while Dwight inwardly begged his ears to stop burning. She reached for a slice of toast from the middle of the rack and began to butter it.

Elizabeth contemplated Caroline’s question for a moment. “Around midnight, I think. It wasn’t like you to leave a party so early, so I just wanted to check if you were okay,” she explained with a gentle smile.

“Aww,” Caroline said, genuinely a bit touched by the gesture. It was really quite lovely to have friends. “That’s so sweet, Elizabeth. But I’m fine, I was fine, just a bit hammered. I was probably just fast asleep.”

“Or not...,” inferred Ross quietly under his breath, which earned him a glare from Dwight.

“Stop it,” he hissed in warning, meeting his best friend’s eyes.

Ross simply chuckled and continued eating his mammoth sized cooked breakfast. Dwight’s stomach swirled uneasily. He couldn’t understand how people could eat such greasy food so early in the morning. Toast, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter, and Dwight could easily polish away an entire loaf of bread if he wanted to.

“Unca Dwight?” Julia piped up, her hazel eyes round and innocent as she looked at her unofficial uncle.

Dwight looked at her expectantly, a soft smile on his face. “Yes, sweetheart?” He took a bite of buttery toast.

Julia broke their gaze to resume colouring in a fox, which happened to be purple and green and resembled an alien as opposed to a mammal. “Do I get to say ‘aunt Cawoline’ to Cawoline now?” she asked with a casual innocence.

Silence fell across the large table. Demelza’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open slightly, Ross attempted to stifle his laughter, Dwight had seemingly turned to stone and Caroline stared at her bowl of fruit with undying interest. Perhaps a two-year-old cannot be trusted with a secret after all, Demelza mourned guiltily.

“What’s this?” Elizabeth asked eagerly, loving to hear a bit of gossip. “Caroline? Dwight?”

When neither of them answered, Ross announced, with unbridled glee at the day’s turn of events, “Dwight and Caroline are a couple.”

“Awww! Congratulations, that’s so lovely!” Elizabeth gushed. “Isn’t it lovely, Francis?”

“Spectacular,” Francis mumbled, his spinning head resting on his folded arms as he stared at the pine of the table.

“What’s spectacular?” Drake asked as he approached the table, having heard Elizabeth’s excitement.

“Dwight and Caroline are together,” Demelza chimed in with a bright smile.

“Nice!” Drake commented as he grinned at them both and beckoned Morwenna over.

“So I guess we are just telling everyone now,” Dwight said quietly, laughing, blushing.

“Is that a problem, Dr Enys? Are you ashamed of me?” Caroline challenged him. Her expression was the epitome of nonchalance and teasing but there was a hint of seriousness in her eyes.

Dwight smiled softly. “Of course not,” he murmured sincerely, holding her gaze.

Retching noises came from the direction of Ross Poldark. “Eugh. I feel like I’m in a teenage romcom,” he taunted.

“As you can tell, Ross is the epitome of romance and I am a very lucky woman,” Demelza joked to the breakfast table, causing a chorus of laughter to echo in the large room.

“What’s all the commotion about?” asked Morwenna with a smile as she came to stand beside Drake, with little Joy sitting peacefully on her hip.

“Caroline and I are seeing each other,” Dwight explained, a bashful blush appearing on his cheeks.

Morwenna looked at them both with such a genuine grin of excitement that Caroline immediately felt ashamed for the bad feelings she had briefly harboured towards the young woman. She also lamented that Grey’s Anatomy boxset she had thrown away out of spite that day. “Aww, that’s lovely. We must congratulate uncle Dwight, mustn’t we, my love?” she told Joy, moving round the back of the table to give Dwight a quick kiss on the cheek.

Joy melted into Dwight’s shoulder for a hug before Dwight then manoeuvred her to rest on his knee, where he encouraged her to practice standing up. The baby stretched an arm out across the table in Caroline’s direction. “Oop! It looks like someone’s got her eye on your watermelon, Caroline,” Dwight pointed out with a laugh as he bounced Joy lightly on his knee.

“Well, she’ll just have to look elsewhere because it’s mine,” Caroline said seriously, to which everyone laughed. She glanced at the baby, who was admittedly almost too cute to believe, with a degree of unease as the infant stared back at her. Caroline had almost no experience of dealing with children or babies and had no idea how to communicate with them. Should she give Joy some of her watermelon? Can babies with so few teeth even eat watermelon? Horace isn’t allowed.

Caroline’s glance flickered to Morwenna. “Can- does she- should I give her some?”

Morwenna smiled and shook her head slightly. “It’s alright, she’s just eaten,” she answered softly, moving to take her daughter from Dwight. “Someone is just being greedy!” she cooed, tickling her tummy.

The rest of the morning went smoothly, almost the entire wedding party electing to stay at the breakfast table to chat, which resulted in many hastily packed suitcases and rushed showers.

Dwight Enys 10:45am

Ready to check out? X

Caroline Penvenen 10:47am

Almost! You haven’t seen my earrings, have you? Xx

Dwight Enys 10:47am

Yeah you left them in my room, I’ve put them in my bag xx

Caroline Penvenen 10:48am

I hope you wrapped them nicely in something, they’re Chanel!! If they’re broken you owe me a new pair Dr Enys xx

Dwight Enys 10:48am

Well it’s a good thing I know how to harvest organs then xx

Caroline Pevenen 10:49am

You’re such a geek xx

I’m outside your room btw, I require your assistance with my massive suitcase x

Dwight locked his phone and grabbed his own small suitcase, tapping all of his pockets in search of his room key on his way towards the door before remembering that he put it in his wallet. He opened the door and sure enough, Caroline was standing there and had put on her signature pink lipstick since he last saw her. He stared at her for a moment and she smirked at him, as though able to hear his thoughts. He then regained his cool and mocked: “does milady need help with her luggage?”

Caroline rolled her eyes theatrically but failed to contain a smile. She curtsied in reply. “Yes, please, thank you, Sir,” she teased, her tone overtly prim and proper.

~~~~~~~

Caroline sighed heavily as the beautiful manor house grew smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror of Dwight’s car. “I wish this weekend didn’t have to end.”

Dwight smiled as he turned the radio down a notch, before joining in her in a somewhat sad sigh. “I know, me too. It was lovely,” he glanced sideways at her, taking his eyes off the road long enough to note the smile in her eyes as she looked at him in agreement. “It doesn’t have to end, you know,” he continued, not aware of the words coming out of his mouth. “I mean, the weekend has to end, but the loveliness doesn’t: you could just come with me to all the future weddings I get invited to – and any other events.”

“Is this a proposal?” Caroline taunted mischievously.

“What?!” Dwight spluttered, nearly veering off the road. “No! No, no. No, it’s not,” he stammered, his hands gripping the wheel. “I- I just meant that it might be nice if you wanted to do something like this again. It’s fine if you don’t – completely fine – it’s up to you, I was just saying– shit, I’m sorry you must think I’m–“

“Dwight!” Caroline interjected, laughing tenderly at how tongue-tied he’d become. “I was joking.” She put her hand on top of his, which gripped the gear stick, and squeezed it for reassurance. “I’d love to – do something like this again, that is,” she added pointedly, her lips curved into a gleaming smile, her eyes laughing at him.

He chuckled and smiled warmly at her. The world narrowed down to the feel of her hand on top of his. He noted that her bare left hand rested comfortably on her thigh.

One day, Dwight thought wistfully. But for now, her company, the soft hum of the radio, the morning winter sunshine and the warm, companionable silence that filled the air between them, was all that he needed

#poldark #poldark fanfic #carolight #girl next door au

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daughterofsinsloth · 6 years

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Hello. I saw your post about giving recommendations of skk fics and I seriously love them! Thank you ❤️ Is it okay to ask you if you know any skk fics that are complete multi-chapter? I had been trying to search them but I most see one shots and abandoned multi-chapters.

Hello hello anon-chan!!! thank you so very much about your comment!! It means a lot! :) Mmm… I jnow what you mean! I have a lot of favorite fics that are uncompleted! But let’s have some fate that they will be upload! 💪💪

Here some soukoku multi-chapter fics!

i won’t lie (i knew you belonged here) by mountainlaurels:

(AU/9 chpts) this one is my very first fic and the one that actually got me inyo skk. the writer has done a great great job bringing you to their wolrd. here we are on modern setting but abilities are still on. Chuuya works at a flower shop and Dazai at the cafe across the street. their interctions are slow and natural. you cant help but ship them. the other bsd characters are all in and they are treated respectifully and well done as if they are the mains. i really like the story and how it grows to the finale.its well writen and the feelings are overwhelming! this has a spanish translation from the writer.

Intoxicated by setosdarkness:

(AU/21 chpts) a really really great fic! nothing less from setosdarkness! definatly read her other works that are currently on-going. they are awesome and cinematic-like. really welldone and well-written. the plot is a bit tricky but it keeps you on edge. you get into the characters and when you will finish it, you will be suprized. its a mafia!AU and everyone plays. its a well build game. you are gonna love it. there is also smut in it, but its part of the game too. the hole thing is a game that you cant helped it but fell willingly into it and you will be satisfied with it.

Find Something Worth Dying For (And Learn How to Live) by kibasix:

(17 chpts) read the name of the writer.. no thats it. thats my analysis. KIBASIX! we are talking about one of the best writers, in my opinion. I cant even explain how perfect this fic is! this fic here?! I cried my eyes out! i was waiting the next chapter like kids wait Santa. simply immersive. it was an absolutely agonized journey. it was like a dance between the feels and the rightness of their world. its chapter was more majestic than the last and the next was more painful than the last. the writer’s words get imprinted in your heart and mind and you cant help but want to read more, feel more, see more. it has a cinematic feel. it starts from the very beginning and we see skk relationship how it evolved and how it suttered like you are seeing it live. a sad poem in a form of a fic. the characters are practically singing their emotions out, only to be ignored by their life. and yet the fate laughs at them as she entangle them together. I can talk for hours how they write each of the character like a living being, forgeting none, and how they give each one a right place and the spotlight they deserve! an amazing work that leaves you full and empty in the same time. this one has a smak 4 chpts sequel “

Sparks Like A Match (Burns Like A Wildfire)

“ and another sequel that is yet to come (I believe in you kibasix-sama!). also check their other works, both multi and one-shot!

Noir by Adargo:

(20 chpts) another gem. another feel train. noir is the color of skk and this fic is the sorry song of their lives. a corrupted fic that leaves you craving for more. here we read with the shadow of Corruption on our back and the characters live under it. its one of the character lives under their own corruption and try to get out only to have an odd feeling at the end. it could be more chpts or only this this and the feeling will be the same. we never leave corruption, just learn to live with it in this noir world. although I would love to see more, when you finish it you can only mutter a “wow” and then never live properly again. rips your heart out and fixs it momentaly to rip it again later. you live and breath with the characters and in the end you breath a new air, a better one for me. this epitomy of angst heals you so amazingly. as the characters go a step foward you take one too and from then one your heart has a different weight. a truly and without doubt exceptional work.

A Hearts Desire by Kaokita:

(AU/6 chpts) a beautiful fic. prostitute!Chuuya opens to us a world that we see journalist!Dazai to bark in and challenge Chuuya in a “bet of felling in love". a proud chuuya is always present but here it compinate with a kinda impulsive chuuya, exposed to Dazai's hungry feeling for actual feels. here we are talking about the dark world of the underground were a no less dark but bright light (dazai) comes to shake the everyday life of our protagonist. its well written and well build. doesnt leave you with a complain and brings you to another world. really enjoyable to read. spoiler oda and chuuya having seeeeeex

Forgettable Significance by Witheryvine:

(32 chpts) after the anime, the feels start. if you thought that dancing with angst was easy, then you havent read this own. betreyal and love complicate each other and come to you to cry with them. a really interesting work and stunning. it is overwhelming but you want it to be. there are things that are needed to be said, words that have to come to the light and the writer not only do that perfectically but also gives you more to heal yourself and breath. it takes a lot to take back someone who meant the world for you and throw you away, yet! the writer has done such a nice jod giving as the feelings, thoughts and fears that you cant help but be one with it. the style of writing helps the fic to encrave into you and honestly i havent see many write it so good.

You Won’t Lose Me (So Don’t Leave Me Behind) by hybridempress:

(14 chpts) now it will be a terrible mistake to leave this out!from bottom to the top its a must read. an emotional roller coster with the best of fluff. emotions well hidden are suddenly out. too fast changes leave you breathless and the characters have to take fast decisions, act fast and start to live from the zero. a phychological rebirth thats requares a lot of courage to abandon everything so you can chase after an old wild dream in a form of a man, new to you but as old as time to your heart. along with sequel of it “

You Have a Heartbeat (You’re Real, You’re Here, You’re Human)

” by mostladylikeladythateverladied they create a perfectly must read at all cost fic that gives you the most satisfying feeling of “ah thats how it should be done”. skk are a complicate pair but the writers give them to you bare to see and feel with them to all your might. p.s. that amazing scenes with sskk at the sequel cured my heart!

Sorrow Already Spoiled by Soukokuhell:

(AU/16 chpts) an awesome fic is here once again. this AU is really well written and well build around two people way too hurt, who find love and healing together. trying to move foward but with the past to hunt them down. love and fear are walking together here. the angst is getting healed by the characters emotions and the lovemaking is great! with each chapter the characters are getting healed and at the finale you get to breath again. the fluff is in the love and devotion they have for one another.

All Aboard by Asmicarus:

(8 chpts)an action fic with a lot of feels. chuuya is suffering again and dazai is an asshole but you can see that there is much more behind them. Dazai’s manipulating nature comes out to play and although it fools everyone, Chuuya manage to sutter it to the ground with a few words. the remark is 10000000% what we all need and what Dazai needs to hear. he pretends to be human but chuuya leave him naked to the bone. from here the story takes another turn to dazai realizing what is happening and what he needs and chuuya finaly decides to take what he deserve.

Silver and Shining by ShesAParadox:

(25 chpts) okay thats a fic that i havent read in a long time, but i remember it still in this day how good impression it left me. the protagonist is fate and the puppets are skk, but not like any other fic. here there are a little things they can do.as their lives unfold and hardships are presented to them continuously, it becomes apparent that they are both the best and worst thing to have appeared in each other’s lives. the well written text gives you piece by piece their thoughts and mind, fears and love from the first meeting are amazingly describe and it leaves you complete. it happends what it should happen.

Underwater by meupclose:

(11 chpts) one hell of a fic. here is hopeless chaise with mori as the hunter and dazai as the prey. chuuya is the ‘innocent’ love one of dazai who has been called to play the savior. oda feels rip you apart, every character battles with inner and out demons and dazai is having a crisis. yet! the writer never fails to right a complicated masterpiece where life and death are playing chess. the fluff and smut take the fic to another level as a celebration of life and mori is practically playing death himself. a foolish man who wants to be a god and dazai is the child here who is desperate to live. chuuya steals the spotlight and lead to the end. its an excellent work of a mad song with the most logical story in a world that rules are made to be broken.

from my prievious fic rec please read “own no doubt”, “shared gravity” and insomnia_productions.

Why most of them are angst-like I dont know and Im sorry dear anon-chan. Im terribly sorry! kinda.. nonetheless they are all amazing and you should read them!!!

thank you very much for your ask! I hope that my reccomendations were good and you enjoy reading them! Tell me what you think~~ have a wonderful day anon-chan!!!!bye bye :)

#fic rec #highly recommended #bungou stray dogs #soukoku

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dotshiiki · 7 years

Text

CoL, chpt 11

CHAPTER WARNING! This chapter is rated R for references to paedophilia. There are no explicit descriptions, but if dirty old geezers being what they are makes you squeamish, you want to avoid this chapter.

XI: THALIA

If it hadn't been for the ledge, Thalia would probably be dead. As it was, she hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind straight out of her. But the fall—maybe twenty feet or so—wasn't deadly. She didn't even seem to have broken any bones, although pain flared through her joints as they absorbed the shock of her landing.

Thank Artemis she still had her teenage body, with its youthful resistance to serious injury. She had a feeling that at her true age, her bones should have been more brittle.

Grassy debris rained down, scattering around her the earth that had crumbled in Percy's Eris-induced landslide. A few feet away, Nico groaned. He and Will had landed in a heap—it looked as though Nico had actually broken Will's fall—and his ankle seemed to have borne the brunt of the impact. His foot was twisted in an awkward angle.

Will rolled to the side and sat up.

'Don't think it's broken,' gasped Nico.

'No,' Will agreed, putting one hand out to feel it. 'A really bad sprain, though. A couple of snapped ligaments.'

He started to concentrate, but Nico knocked his hand away. 'No. You've already stretched your healing powers to the limit. You need to save your energy. Just use—' He stopped and looked blankly around them for Will's supplies.

'My pack's gone,' Will said. 'I think it fell…' He waved his hand at the drop-off.

Thalia sighed. Great.

Will pursed his lips. 'Never mind. I'll improvise.'

While Will set to work fashioning a crutch for Nico out of his jacket and a few of Thalia's arrows, she tried to assess their situation.

They were on a narrow, rocky ledge no more than six feet wide. It was a miracle they'd even hit it instead of tumbling all the way down to the bottom. Thalia couldn't tell how far the cliff extended downwards.

Although they couldn't be that far from the top, it was shrouded in darkness. She couldn't even see three feet up the cliff face. The rock was smooth as bone, with no outcroppings or indents. Unscalable. The only crack in it was a split that started a few inches above her head and ran down vertically, widening into a two-foot gap from her waist down.

Thalia contemplated using her arrows. If she could shove them into the rock face, they might be able to etch a route up. Experimentally, she stabbed one at the rock. It struck with a dull clang that reverberated in her ears like the hunting bells Artemis used to confuse prey—a magical echo that muffled all other sound and dulled the senses of their quarry.

'What in Hades?' she muttered.

The arrow hadn't made even the slightest notch in the black bone. Maybe if she fired it from her bow…except the ledge was too narrow for her to get a good shooting angle.

Thalia gave up the idea. Nico wasn't in any shape to climb, anyway.

She gritted her teeth in frustration.

Will looked up from his work. He'd strapped up Nico's foot and managed to cobble together a thin stick from the shaft of several arrows, held together by strips of leather. Nico leaned on it cautiously. It twisted a little under the strain, but bore his weight nonetheless.

'We need to get back up there,' Nico said. His voice sounded hazy and distorted through the echo of arrow against cliff. 'We left Percy and Annabeth with Eris.'

Thalia decided not to mention that Percy had sent them plunging out of the fight. It was Eris's fault anyway. She looked guiltily at Nico, whom Eris had egged her into attacking. 'That was her strategy, wasn't it? Divide and conquer.'

Would she succeed with Percy and Annabeth, too?

Before, Thalia would have said it was impossible, that no force on earth—or below it—could have made Percy turn on Annabeth. But this new Percy, she wasn't so sure of. He was all the power commanded by the son of a Big Three and none of the heart. Colder, more suspicious—less Seaweed, more Brain, she thought ruefully.

The image of Percy's face, contorted with hatred as he plunged his sword into the ground, blended into an older memory. Another cliff, another fight, a different boy.

The same twisted anger.

Luke's expression gives way to desperation and a softer, pleading look. And then he topples from the cliff—at her hand—and falls, and falls, and falls…

Thalia shook the memory away. It had been nearly a decade ago. Why was she still thinking about it?

Percy, she reminded herself. Percy was supposed to be different. He wasn't supposed to turn hard and angry and traitorous like Luke had.

Artemis would have said, 'What can you expect from men?'

But it was Reyna's voice Thalia heard in her head instead. 'It doesn't matter who hurt or betrayed you. We don't define ourselves by what men do to us, but what we choose to do to ourselves.'

For someone so young, that girl had a lot of wisdom and a yard of guts.

Thalia wondered what Reyna would do if she'd been the one to come down here instead.

A shout from Will brought her back to the present.

'I think this leads somewhere.' He was peering into the narrow opening in the rock face. It was just wide enough for a thin person to crawl through.

It was also the only path with a remote possibility of getting them off this ledge.

'All right,' Thalia said. 'Lead the way.'

OoOoO

It made no sense whatsoever that it should be brighter inside the rock than out on the open ledge. But Thalia had long since given up trying to wrap her mind around the physics of Tartarus.

After they crawled through the gap in the cliff wall, they found themselves in a narrow passageway that widened into a tunnel barely high enough for them to walk upright. The cave walls were coated in a filmy grey substance that bathed them in a hazy light. It was brighter than the inky darkness outside, but also foggier, like they were trudging through industrial smog.

Thalia ran her hand along the wall. It didn't feel like rock. The surface was slick and slimy, and it pulsated beneath her fingers. She pulled her hand away quickly with a hiss of revulsion.

'What is it?' Will asked.

'It's…gross.' She shuddered. 'Feels like we're inside a monster's—'

'Don't,' said Nico darkly. 'For your own sanity, don't follow that thought to its conclusion.'

Will changed the subject. 'Where do you think this leads?'

'Not a clue,' Thalia said. She could no more fathom the geography of Tartarus than she could its physics.

'It feels familiar,' Nico said.

'Reminds me of the Labyrinth,' Will agreed. 'Same twisting tunnels.'

Nico shook his head. 'I think this might be the way I was…' A shiver ran through his body, '…taken.' He swallowed hard. 'By Gaia's forces. To the heart of Tartarus.'

Thalia suppressed a groan. 'Why does that sound ominous?'

'It's not,' Nico said. 'Not a bad thing, I mean. That's the only place the Doors of Death can anchor down here. It's where we'd have to go eventually. Percy and Annabeth—if they survive—will have to get there, too. We just have to hope we'll meet up.'

It sounded like a long shot, but what better idea did they have?

The tunnel sloped downwards, which Nico also declared a good sign. After a while, they heard the sound of running water. Another positive, according to Nico. 'Everything flows to the heart of Tartarus.'

Thalia hoped it might be the Phlegethon, carving an underground path through the rock. Then she decided she was definitely going crazy if she was hoping to meet the River of Fire.

They needed it, though. None of them had been in great shape to begin with, not after the attack of the arai, and the cave smog was clogging up their lungs now, making them labour for every breath.

The trickle of water got louder. An orange glow appeared in the distance, like a lantern on a foggy moor.

Their tunnel opened up into a warmly lit cavern. The ceiling made a low dome several feet above their heads, dotted with glittering amber gemstones. These were embedded along the cavern walls as well, giving it its dim glow. Their tunnel wasn't the only entrance; there were at least eight other openings leading in. Two had streams trickling through, which cut across the cavern. Each divided into two branches. One of the four divided branches merged with one from the other stream to form a single line that snaked around the far edge of the cavern and ran out along a different tunnel. The remaining two streams ran in a parallel, faster flow out another exit.

'Maybe one is the Phlegethon?' But even as she said it, Thalia heard the faint, watery wail of misery that marked a different river.

'The Cocytus,' Nico said grimly. 'And the other is the Lethe.'

They hobbled along the cavern edge, careful to avoid the rivers.

'Which tunnel do we pick, then?' Will asked, peering at the multiple openings in the cavern wall.

'That depends,' said a low, gravelly voice, 'on where you want to go.'

Out of the cavern entrance between the two rivers came a stooped figure shuffling slowly towards them. He moved sluggishly, hunched over a staff that supported his laborious steps.

'Demigods,' he said. 'So…young.'

He was a shrivelled old hunchback with a tiny, withered body. His mottled skin was cut so deep with wrinkles that it resembled a patchwork quilt stitched together by an uneven hand. The loose skin on his face hung revoltingly in a floppy wattle beneath his chin.

'Who are you?' Thalia demanded.

'Oh, you know me,' said the old man. 'Everybody knows me. No one escapes me, in the end.'

He leered at them, revealing three crooked teeth in a maw of diseased gums.

'Stay where you are,' said Nico. 'Not a step closer, old man!'

'Old man?' The old geezer's mouth formed a tight, angry line. His eyes gleamed dangerously, going from milky white to a bloodshot pink.

'I don't like this,' whispered Will.

They backed away quickly towards the nearest tunnel. At least the dude's approach was slow, hampered by his reliance on his staff.

'Old man,' he repeated. 'Let's see how you like old age, young ones.'

The air of the cavern thickened until it felt like they were wading through honey. Thalia had once been in the presence of Kronos when he had manipulated time itself, and it was exactly like the Titan of time was taking control now, with everything slowing to a snail's pace.

Except when she looked at her friends, time also seemed to be speeding up. With each step they took, they seemed to gain ten years. Their faces drooped; lines etched themselves in the corners of their eyes and mouths; their shoulders hunched forward despondently.

Thalia put a hand to her own cheek. Although her movements were sluggish, her skin still felt supple and smooth.

Of course—she couldn't age.

'You're Geras, aren't you?' she said.

The old man kept plodding towards them with a smug, satisfied look on his weather-beaten face.

Nodding slowly, he said, 'Behold my power—no man escapes my scourge.'

Caught in his spell, Will and Nico's bodies were becoming nearly as shrivelled as Geras's. Their mouths hung open listlessly. They seemed incapable of producing coherent speech.

If this kept up, would they age all the way to death?

'Stop!' Thalia cried. She racked her brain for anything she could remember about the god of old age. 'Aren't you—aren't you supposed to be a good god? I mean, that's what the ancient Greeks believed, right? You were supposed to bring fame and excellence to the elderly.'

Geras gave a loud, phlegmy harrumph. 'Once,' he growled. 'Once I was respected, revelled. Once I conferred wisdom and experience along with wrinkles and osteoporosis. My gifts were once coveted as a crown of maturity.'

As he spoke, the ceiling of his cavern came to life to illustrate his words. White-bearded men in togas presided over a court while young courtiers served them fruit and wine. Youths kneeled and kissed the feet of iron-haired grandmothers.

'And then what happened?' Geras waved his hand and the paean to senescence morphed into pitiful scenes of degradation. A decrepit old beggar was spat on while he huddled in the doorway of a building. Children giggled and made faces at a wrinkled old crone as she hobbled laboriously along the sidewalk. Four vacant-eyed octogenarians sat around a bingo table in a drab nursing home, staring listlessly at the game cards in front of them.

'Demoted by gods and mortals alike. Banished and forgotten. Cast down to Tartarus to rot while they celebrated that slut Hebe instead. No honour. No respect.' He glared at Nico, whose hair had gone snow-white by now, but fortunately seemed to have otherwise stopped ageing while Geras focused on Thalia.

Then Geras's sinister, gap-toothed smile returned. 'But I get my revenge, don't I? I wither all, crumbling your bodies to dust, drawing night across your eyes and turning them milky with age. Perhaps you do not respect me. But you will fear me.'

'But we do respect you!' Thalia said quickly. 'If anyone appreciates old age, it's demigods. I mean, think how many of us die young.'

She couldn't even count the number of friends who had fallen before they'd had a chance to grow old. She thought of the gamble they'd taken in coming down here, trying to give Percy that chance. Her mind flitted again to Luke, cut down in the prime of his life. Once, they'd met a demigod in his sixties and marvelled at his longevity. She remembered thinking, what if that could be us, too? What if they'd both had a chance to grow old together, without being dogged by monsters and prophecies?

She'd sidestepped death and ageing, but she sometimes wondered what it might be like if she'd remained mortal. Would she look like Reyna and Annabeth, with their knowledge and experience written across their faces? What would it be like to grow old alongside them?

'Hmph,' Geras said. 'What's your name, girl?'

'Thalia.'

'I knew a Thalia once.' Geras looked slightly less grumpy. 'Daughter of an old friend. Used to be quite fond of her.' His face darkened again. 'But that was before. When I had a place on Olympus. Before everyone decided old age was to be avoided.'

On the ceiling, pictures appeared of middle-aged ladies injecting botox into their faces and rich men undergoing liposuction. Geras looked at them in disgust. 'Mortals are cheating left and right these days—they'd rather tango with Thanatos than come quietly to me.'

One of the men bled out on the operating table, dead in his attempt to regain his youthful physique. Thalia shifted her weight uncomfortably, acutely aware of her own age-defying appearance. Geras didn't seem to have noticed yet that she hadn't turned as decrepit as her companions.

'So they wish to keep their youthful appearances,' Geras sneered. 'But there is plenty more I can steal.' He spread his fingers along the cavern wall and the gemstones embedded in it moved aside to make room for a glowing five-by-five grid. Rosy pink cheeks appeared in one square; in another, a network of dots connected by blindingly white lines.

'Health…' said Geras, 'cognitive ability…vitality…'

Each lit-up square condensed into a gem as Geras spoke. His eyes ran lasciviously over one of them before it shrunk—the curvy outlines of a feminine figure.

'They're actual qualities,' Thalia said. Horror and fascination flooded her as she stared at the gems in the wall. 'You're taking all of that from people—their health, their minds—' All squirrelled away into his despicable collection, leaving their owners stricken with illness, impotence, and dementia.

'I collect the years of mortal life.' Geras filled a horizontal row with gems and drew his finger across it like he was playing a ghoulish game of bingo. The gems sank into the cavern rock and the line he'd drawn through the squares solidified into a long silver rod.

'What else have I got to entertain me in this infernal pit?' he growled. 'Here at the confluence of Cocytus and Lethe. Bah! If they want old age to be synonymous with misery and senility, that's exactly what they'll get.'

Geras touched his rod to the ceiling. A butterfly cloud blossomed from its end and splattered across the domed surface. The rod transfigured into a remote, which Geras aimed at the ceiling. Above their heads played a video of a statuesque young girl dancing on a wide stage.

'Is that…?'

'A memory, of course,' said Geras. His eyes travelled appreciatively over the young dancer's figure. 'I have an understanding with Mnemosyne. Alzheimer's they call it these days, I believe—such a wonderful affliction.'

With a practised flick, he cast his rod and discarded the memory into the stream on his left, which had to be the Lethe.

'You just—you took someone's memory!'

Geras shrugged. 'They'd wash out to Chaos in the end anyway. All I'm doing is hastening the process along. Sometimes I can even collect from early-onset years. Now those make for great streaming quality.'

Like an expert fisherman, he cast into the Lethe again and reeled in a squirming silver fish. He flung it up to the ceiling and pressed play. This one featured a five-year-old girl splashing in a bath. Geras fished out another, and another. There was a definite theme to them, all starring girls of a rather specific age range. The lecherous grin on Geras's face as he watched them sickened Thalia. She could just imagine him holed away down here, binge-watching his stolen memory collection like it was a paedophilic Gilmore Girls marathon.

Then her mind snagged on the way he reeled in each memory. Geras was pulling against the current.

'Where does the stream lead to?' she asked.

'Chaos, naturally.'

'And you're retrieving the memories from there? You can do that?'

'Of course. I am the son of Nyx herself, you know,' he said loftily. 'And this is my private channel. What's that they call it these days…pirating? High definition streaming, any time I want it.'

An idea began to form in Thalia's head. 'I'll strike a bargain with you,' she said quickly.

Geras snorted. 'What can you possibly have to bargain with me? I'll collect your years one way or another. No mortal can avoid me. You all come to me in the end, and those of you who don't…well, the dead don't bargain either, do they?'

'I'm not mortal.' This was a real gamble. If Geras hadn't caught on yet, he certainly would now, and given his attitude towards age-reduction plastic surgery, Thalia doubted he had much love for the immortally young Hunters. She'd have to keep his attention by dangling something he wanted in front of him instead. She hoped she'd read him right.

Geras squinted at her. 'Curse my eyesight! It's been getting worse by the millennium.' His filmy eyes finally focused on her tiara. 'One of Artemis's infernal Hunters. Cheats, all of you! Never ageing, always evading me. I should have known.' He stamped his rod on the ground in a rage. 'That's why you're not responding to my powers. Well, maybe I can't get at you, but them—' His head turned slowly back to Will and Nico.

'No, wait,' Thalia said firmly. 'You're mad that you'll never get to collect from me. But what if I gave you something?'

'Keep talking.'

'The missing years. The ageing that never happened. What if I offered you those?'

Bingo, she thought, as Geras's eyes sparkled. He was clearly enticed by the idea of collecting a coveted, unreachable prize. She saw the glow of her own immortality reflected in his greedy gaze. It seemed to hang over her like a second skin. There were layers to them: the years of her childhood clung most tightly to her; her six years as a Hunter danced on the surface. Was that what Geras was drooling over now?

It made her skin crawl to think of herself ending up on his paedophilic video collection. But she had a hidden hand up her sleeve, if she could just play her cards right.

'I'll give you a year,' she bargained. 'In return, I want safe passage for me and my friends past your cavern.'

'That will cost more than one year.'

'Two, then.'

'Five.'

Thalia added quickly in her head. 'How about six, then?'

Geras's grin widened. She could see him mentally stripping off six years as a Hunter with his eyes.

'But I want one more thing, then. I want to know how you retrieve memories from Chaos.'

'Planning on putting together your own shows, eh? Reckon that juvenile prude Artemis doesn't let you have much in the way of entertainment.'

Thalia ignored his insinuation. 'Do we have a deal or not?'

'Deal,' said Geras. He touched his silver rod eagerly to her head.

Thalia ducked away. 'Swear on the Styx first. We pass through and you show me how to retrieve memories.'

'I swear. On all the rivers of Tartarus—oh, all right, Styx included. Safe passage for you lot and the key to memory retrieval. All for the bargain price of six years.' He was practically salivating now in his eagerness.

A deep rumble shook the cavern, sealing their bargain.

Geras pointed his rod at her again. This time, Thalia let him lift the ghostly shade of her years from her. She concentrated hard on feeding him the right ones.

Geras didn't seem to notice anything amiss. The shades he fished off her took the shape of a teenage girl. It was a good thing Thalia hadn't looked all that different at fifteen than she had at twelve. Or maybe Geras was just myopic enough from his days of constantly streaming movies in a darkened cave that he couldn't discern the subtle differences that might have alerted him to the fact that he wasn't extracting what he coveted.

The years lifted from her with a faint whiff of pine. Although Geras was removing them, Thalia felt instead like a mantle was falling over her shoulders. Her body seemed fuller, heavier, and—hang on, was she taller, too?

Geras wound the six Thalia-shades around his rod, then twirled the rod like a baton. The six years went flying like ninja stars and lodged into the cavern walls, six more gemstones in his vast collection. They were the verdant colour of a pine forest. Geras's eyes lingered on them as if he were itching to play the memories right there and then. Fortunately, he remembered to uphold his end of the bargain first.

'You can have this remote,' he said, handing her his rod. It weighed less than she expected, as though it were made of light, or thought. 'Fish as close to the source as you can, or else the buffering takes forever. It's easiest right at the edge of Chaos. Less drag.'

'Would I be able to return the memories to their owner?' She probably should have asked this first.

'Sure. I do it sometimes for kicks. The mortals get so confused when the addled old sundowners come lucid all of a sudden.'

Thalia tried not to let her disgust show.

'Anyway, if it's Chaos you're after, you'll want that tunnel.' He pointed. 'And…' With a careless wave of his free hand, Will and Nico unfroze. Thalia was relieved to see the scourge of age lift gradually from their faces. It was a bizarre reversal of time that would have put Benjamin Button to shame. Even Nico's bunged ankle caught the power of the rewind. He straightened, dropping his makeshift crutch.

Geras retreated into the tunnel between the rivers, probably to check out Thalia's gift in private. There wouldn't be much time before he realised she'd tricked him.

'Come on,' she said, looping her arms through Will and Nico's. 'We gotta get out of here.'

She led them down the tunnel Geras had pointed out.

'Thalia,' Nico gasped as they ran, 'you didn't seriously give him—'

'Of course not.' They were far enough down the tunnel that the orange glow of Geras's cavern was no longer visible behind them. She slowed to a jog. 'Six years as a tree, remember? What good were they ever going to do me?' She pictured Geras's outrage when he found himself staring at a solid pine tree. Serve him right, the old creep.

Will laughed. 'Apollo's hymns, that's brilliant!' He sobered quickly. 'You still look older, though. Not old-old like Geras made us, but like a grown-up.'

Six years, thought Thalia. She'd look twenty-one. Way too old to be Hunter. What was Artemis going to say?

Maybe she'd have to go join Reyna's sister and the Amazons. What would Reyna think of that?

'Never mind that,' she said. It wasn't something she could worry about now. 'We have to find Percy and Annabeth. And I have a feeling that the edge of Chaos is exactly where they'll end up, too.'

A/N: Geras is another one of the gods that got a cameo in HoH.

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#pjohoobigbang2017 #pjohoobigbang #curse of lethe #thalia grace #will solace #nico di angelo #geras #solangelo #theyna #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfiction #hoo fanfiction

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gotstory · 7 years

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My 20 Year Old Idol Husband - Day 12 [ Together]

20 yr old Jungkook, at the top of his idol boyband career, has a secret only he & his bandmates know – An underground relationship, with you, a girl he met at a fanmeeting. Things get a little out of hand and you find out you’re pregnant.

Read: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8 / Day 9 / Day 10 / Day 11 / Day 12 /

In the bustling hub of Seoul's Incheon Airport, two suspicious looking men were hunched over a cup of coffee at a cafe while facing the glass doors of the arrival gates. Their anxiety hidden behind black caps, black hoodies and face masks.

They were desperately trying not to attract any attention while hoping to catch sight of the tall, well-built, and ever-familiar silhouette of Jeon Jungkook upon his arrival.

No one else knew about the arrival. Not even the managers, the company, or the other members - except these 2 men, one of which had nearly suffered a panic attack over the phone.

--- 3 days ago ---

"I'm leaving BTS." Jungkook's clear voice pierced through the phone like a sharp arrow.

The worse nightmare had come true for none other than BTS' leader, Kim Namjoon, as the 3 words hit his ears. But his head and heart rejected it as fast as a ball bouncing off a brick wall.

There was no way his precious golden maknae; their lead singer, the centre of the group, would ever say something like that.

No. He's testing me.

"Namjoon hyung? Are you there, can you hear me?" Jungkook's voice was clear as day and there was no mistake.

Namjoon knew there had to be something more than met the eye, and if he wanted to find out what it was, the only way was to go along with Jungkook.

"Fine. If that so be your desire."

There was silence on the other end of the line thereafter and Namjoon knew perfectly how to use it. Unlike the young and impulsive Jungkook, the leader let his silence do the talking.

"R-r-re-really Hyung?" came Jungkook's meekly surprised response.

Namjoon hummed in thought, "Hmm, I never saw this coming but like you always say to me - You're an adult now and the hyungs are proud of you for being able to stand on your own two feet."

Jungkook burst out in delirium, and Namjoon knew he'd caught him right on the bait. "Hyung! You're really letting me go, just like that?"

"Isn't that what you called to tell me? Or did I hear it wrong?"

Namjoon laughed and continued, "You said 'Hyung, I'm leaving BTS', right?"

At once, Jungkook knew he was read by his Hyung, like an open book with large alphabets; even colourful pictures. He could scarcely hide a thing from him and it didn't matter even if he was miles away - it was Kim Namjoon; the brain, the leader, the one who was always watching out for them over the last 5 years.

Namjoon softened his tease when the silence grew a little too uncomfortable, "Look Jungkook-ah, I mean like... is there something else going on that I should know about? Maybe we could talk about it - if you wanna... ... you still in Busan with Jimin, right?"

A wave of guilty hit him for lying to his hyung, the one who only cared for his wellbeing above himself.

Meekly he answered, "Actually... I.... didn't go to Busan... I..." his voice trailed off.

Namjoom gently urged him on, "So you... are... in...?"

In a single breath, Jungkook 'fessed up like he was kneeling before Namjoon in confession. "I f-flew b-back to Europe," he stuttered, "and I'm with Chae-rin..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh...... I SEE!" Namjoon put the pieces together instantly, thinking he had got the Jungkook puzzled figured out.

"Ahhh.. You cutie, SO in love that you don't wanna leave her huh, awwwwwwwwwwwww! CUUUUUTE."

Jungkook pursed his lips in response. "Uh not so much of that, it's more of I can't."

Namjoon felt a knot in his stomach and asked cautiously, "Did something bad happen?"

----------------------------------------

"Jimin-ah," Namjoon nudged his elbow across the coffee table, "did Jungkook tell you what happened?"

He pouted slightly with his plump pink lips, "I was about to ask you that since he called you." Jimin said, equally curious.

As it turned out, Jungkook refused to tell them about the news, only compromising a little after Namjoon promised not to freak out. "It's a game changer." He said, and let Jimin in on the details of his arrival, so they could hear his news together when he returned as planned.

Namjoon recounted the conversation for Jimin, "he said he can't leave Chae-rin so I said 'Fine, then bring her back with you.' and so he said he would."

Jimin started fiddling with his ring, a sign that he was nervous in thought. "What are we gonna tell the rest when we go back? Did he say how long she'd be here for?"

His question was met with a quick shrug, "He didn't - but it felt like he was never ever gonna let her out of his sight and I don't know why. The suspense is killing me, Jimin-ah." Namjoon accidentally flipped off his hood and started ruffling his bright blonde hair, causing a few others nearby to briefly turn in their direction.

Hurriedly, Jimin reached across to pull the hood gently back over his head, but knocking over his cup of drink. "Ah hyung! It's all your fault! we're gonna get found out!"

The clumsy duo hushed themselves and continued their conversation, "Anyway..." Jimin continued, "in the time she's with us, we've got to make sure none of the managers come in. I'm not worried about the rest, just... Tae-hyungie..."

"Aishhh, Tae! We really need to have a meeting about this later on, this is driving me nuts, can he just hurry come and-- OH OH OH!" In the distance, Jungkook appeared, fully masked in black from top to toe, head bowed and walking in large strides as usual.

A few bodies away, Chae-rin strolled in after him, keeping her distance naturally. It was obvious that Jungkook was keeping her in sight even though they were walking apart from his constant pauses to look around.

Hurriedly, Jimin and Namjoon got up and made their way nearer to the gate, cautious to be behind the crowd who were waiting for their friends and family.

Jungkook saw his hyungs from afar and went nearer to Chae-rin, speaking to her behind his mask, and moving away once he was done.

"There, in black hoods in 2 o'clock. Jimin and Namjoon hyung."

You nodded as you caught sight of them, stifling a laugh as they were covered up like thieves. You made eye contact with Jimin as he continued watching you, pulling down his mask for a second as he mouthed a smiling 'welcome'.

That sweet eye-smile calmed your nerves after the long flight, and made you feel that you truly had family here, in Seoul. You admit that aside from Jungkook, you missed Jimin the most, having known him a little better than the rest. He was also always the one sending you photos of Jungkook.

When all four of you were packed into the taxi, the boys could finally breath freely as they removed their hoods, masks and glasses.

Namjoon was the first to let out his pent up emotions at the youngest.

"You. Talk. NOW!"

Jungkook, with his signature shocked eyes and slightly parted mouth, darted his eyes to you - and then Jimin, and to the driver.

"Yes. Now." Jimin reiterated, the leisurely smile completely wiped from his face.

--------------------------------------------------------

(Chae-rin's/Your POV)

Jungkook looked hesitant and you could understand how he felt. After all, you were the one who was against this whole idea of coming here, staying in the dorm, and he didn't want to upset anyone - you included.

So you chose to speak.

"Guys, I'm ... pregnant."

Jimin who was in the front seat, let out a long and instinctive high-pitched shout.

"whuuuudddddddddddd???"

Namjoon on the other hand, was shocked to silence, his jaw dropping in an instant.

Jungkook quickly reached for your hand, clasping it tightly, and the shocked eyes of the boys followed.

"Yes hyung. She has no one else but me - and I have no one else, but you hyungs. So, we're all in this, TOGETHER."

Teaser for next chpt !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! likes & reblogs help me know you’re alive and waiting <3

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kimmyiewrites · 6 years

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New Beginnings ~ Chpt 11

Rosalie made her way through the side streets to get to the main road. While she was walking, she sent up a silent prayer that Enjolras, Marius and the rest at the barricade would make it out alive. She knew the people weren’t stirring. There was no movement in the streets and the only noise she heard was her own footsteps and the occasional shutter closing.

Just as she reached her uncle’s farm she heard the sound of far off thunder, except there wasn’t a cloud in sight. Rosalie gasped as she realized what it was; cannons. She gripped the fence and bent over to keep from falling to the ground. They were going to be fine.

“Who’s out there?” A woman’s voice called out from behind her.

Rosalie stood and turned, offering the girl a reassuring smile despite how on the inside it was nothing but gut wrenching screams. “You must be Cosette. I’m Rosalie. Marius sent me. He’s fine.”

Cosette smiled at the mention of Marius before running down to the fence. It was then that something clicked. “That sound, it’s not thunder is it?”

Rosalie’s face fell as she gravely shook her head. Cosette nodded, understanding what that meant. She had to keep up hope, keep faith that Marius and her father would return. “Come on, let’s have some warm milk and maybe that’ll help our nerves.”

Rosalie sat staring into her cup, letting the warmth seep through her. “I should be there. I was there. I should be back there to help fight.” She whispered.

Cosette reached over and placed her hand on Rosalie’s. “I’m glad you’re here though. I have someone to be a worrying mess with. We could go in the morning, now that I have someone who knows where they are fighting. That is if you would have me come along with you.”

Rosalie smiled over at Cosetter. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Day turned into night and the two blondes were still filled with worry for their lovers. Just before they decided they were going to try to get some sleep, yelling could be heard. The two rushed to the gate and let Valjean and Rosalie’s uncle through.

“Come with us, we’ve taken Marius and Enjolras to the bishop. They’ll make it.” Valjean said as he ushered the girls out of the yard.

They gave each man a hug before following them back to the church. “Uncle, what about the others?” Rosalie whispered.

He looked down at his niece with deep sympathy. “My deepest apologies, Rosalie no one else survived.”

That thought alone stopped Rosalie in her tracks as she bent over, grieving for her friends. Her uncle wrapped his arms around her as he helped her to continue to walk as she cried on his shoulder.

“She was good friends with Marius and the others?” Cosette asked Valjean as she watched uncle and niece interact.

“Yes, from what I witnessed but I also know they all expressed how they were glad that she was not there with them during their final battle.” Valjean replied.

Rosalie was surprised to see Enjolras’ mother by his side when the small group reached the church. The girl wiped her tears and rushed over to his bed, immediately taking hold of his other hand. Her curiosity must have been written across her face for Reinette smiled at her. “Did you not think that I knew what my son was up to? I went out searching after the canons stopped and came across a nun that was gathering medical supplies. Now you both will come back home with me and you will stay there until Alexandre comes to his senses.”

Rosalie nodded. “Thank you.”

Reinette reached over and placed a hand over the young girl’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He will need your strength. He will not only need it for his recovery but for the burden he will carry knowing what has happened.”

“I will give him all that I have.” She whispered causing Reinette to smile.

“Ah, this must be the angel that is watching over Monsieur Enjolras.” A man’s voice said behind Rosalie.

“Rosalie, this is the doctor who has been taking care of Alexandre and Marius.” Reinette introduced.

Rosalie smiled up at the man. “I thank you, monsieur for taking good care of him.”

“You should be thanked, mademoiselle. He kept calling for you as I worked. Pulled three bullets from him, I did. One out of his leg, abdomen and shoulder. He will have a long journey ahead of him.” The doctor said.

Rosalie looked back down at the sleeping Enjolras and nodded. “I will be by his side during the entire thing if he will have me.”

At that Enjolras began to stir and the adults slipped away to let the two have their moment. “Rosalie?” While his voice was hoarse and raspy, it was also quiet.

Rosalie squeezed his hand and smiled. “I am here.”

A small smile crossed his features before sadness overtook them. “Oh, Rosalie, they’re all gone and I wrote their death sentence.”

“No, Enjolras, you mustn’t think that way. You all knew the possibilities. You were trying to make Paris better, make France better. Not all is lost. You and Marius survived. You two can continue if you so choose and Cosette and I will be by your sides. We will grieve our friends but we also must think of what they would want us to do. We must enjoy life and keep fighting for those who are voiceless but for now you must regain your strength before you continue to do anything.” Rosalie replied as she caressed his cheek and tucked his curls behind his ear.

Enjolras reached out for Rosalie’s hand and shakily brought it up to his lips to give it a soft kiss. “I do not know what I have done to deserve your kindness, your strength, your devotion and most of all your love.”

Rosalie leaned down and kissed him on his forehead in silent reply. “Go back to sleep, my love and I will be here when you wake again.”

Enjolras weakly nodded. His eyes fluttered close and soon he was once again asleep.

#kim writes things #new beginnings #les mis #les miserables #les mis fic #enjolras x rosie #11 #here's the queue we started out as friends

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rather-impertinent · 6 years

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Girl Next Door chpt. 8

A/N: *prepares for the lynching that I deserve*

Caroline Penvenen 07:04 am Heyyy Dwight! Sorry for not replying last night, I fell asleep ridiculously early! I just got to work and I’m like a zombie haha! I would totally love to come around tonight and eat half a cheesecake with you though, if the offer still stands… Let me know! Have a good day at work if you’re working today xx

Dwight Enys 10:17 am That’s alright! The offer definitely still stands, I hope you have a good day too! I’ll see you later, around 6ish? Xx

Caroline Penvenen 11:00 am Thank you! And 6ish sounds great. It’s a date xxx

Dwight Enys 18:08 pm Hey! Really sorry but I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on the cheesecake eating tonight, something’s come up! I guess we wouldn’t die if we ate it tomorrow night instead?? Sorry x

Caroline’s heart sank, and she frowned at her phone with such discontentment that Horace whined in sympathy, thinking she was about to cry. What else could Dwight possibly be doing that was more important than eating cheesecake with her? Saving lives, sure… But he would be finished his shift by now… Unless he’s had to do overtime… But then he would have just said that - he’s had to work late before… Just as Caroline began to ponder the situation aloud to Horace, she heard the distinct sound of Dwight’s smart shoes climbing the stairs to the landing. She raced to the door, intending on asking him if everything was alright when she stopped short, hearing voices. She pressed her eye up to the peephole on her door, and her jaw slackened and her stomach tied in knots.

“Well, aren’t you going to give me a proper hug?” a beautiful brunette asked Dwight, as she placed what looked like a baby’s car seat on the ground.

He grinned and enveloped her in a tight hug, which looked to be reciprocated with equal enthusiasm.

Keren.

Pretty much exactly as Dwight had described her not one week ago. And here she was, standing on his doorstep. Caroline couldn’t bear to look and simultaneously couldn’t bring herself to look away. Her eyes became cloudy, probably the lack of dusting she’d done since she moved in. She couldn't believe what was happening. What the fuck was he doing? Did he not realise how dangerous seeing her was? Had he not learned his lesson the first time? And, most importantly, did he really not care about how this would make her feel? Though maybe he had no idea that she would care. She wished to God that she didn’t. She could not remember feeling more disappointed, more angry, more hurt in her entire life.

Through the small piece of glass that her eye seemed to be glued to, Caroline saw Dwight bend down and unfasten the baby’s seatbelt. From all the pink the child was wearing, Caroline guessed it was a girl. “And how’s my little love?” Dwight cooed, holding the baby aloft, causing her to giggle and reach for his nose.

At this Caroline had seen enough. Her fists clenched, she whirled around and stormed towards her pinewood cabinet. She pulled out the brand-new Grey’s Anatomy box set she hoped to watch with Dwight and threw it firmly into the bin, where it landed with a loud thump. She scooped up Horace from the ground and wrapped the fluffy blanket that lay on the back of the couch over them both and tried not to cry. After a few minutes, she impatiently snatched the tears that trickled down her face. She distracted herself by smoothing Horace’s wrinkled forehead, rubbing his plump belly and tickling his small, dark ears. The only male member of any species that she loved deserved the best treatment, after all. Except that Horace was not the only male member of any species that she loved. But it did not matter now. It was too late.

“Tea? Two sugars and milk, right?”

The brunette breathed a laugh. “Well, I see you’ve certainly got the memory of a surgeon; you haven’t made me a cuppa in about six months! Hold on; I’ll get the cups in a sec,” she offered, placing the baby onto the soft black rug in the middle of the sitting room and handing her some toys to chew on before coming into the kitchen. She opened the cupboard, expecting to find the four standard, plain, white mugs from IKEA that he had bought as a fresher at university ten years ago. Instead, she was met by a Star Wars mug which was captioned ‘may the force (of caffeine) be with you’ coupled with a pretty pink mug decorated with flowers and a smiling pug. “Um, what are these?” she inquired, chuckling slightly at the terrible yet funny caption.

Redness began to creep up his neck, and he ducked his head slightly as if to avoid confrontation. “Oh, I– uh,” he cleared his throat, “I just thought I should get some new ones since those are a bit old now,” he explained lightly, hoping that the woman in front of him wouldn’t see that he was lying through his teeth.

She eyed him with the suspicion that he deserved. “Hmm. What’s with the pug, though? You’re definitely a cat person. You love my cat. Besides, why not just buy two Star Wars ones?” She squinted her gaze at him, and he grew even redder under her scrutiny. “Hmm.”

“You should check on my fave, by the way, I’m not sure how childproof my living room is,” he deflected, though there was some truth in his statement.

Dwight breathed an audible sigh of relief when she turned her back and sauntered back into the sitting room, picking the little girl up and placing her on her knee. With their cups of tea and coffee made, Dwight carried them through to the living room and joined the two girls. He handed the pretty brunette her tea and eyed her with fondness. “So, what have you been up to for the past six months?”

She stayed for hours. They talked, and talked, and talked about all the things they’d been doing in each other’s absence, which mostly pertained to work, and a little of the future. Dwight asked to her stay for dinner, but she politely declined.

Yawning widely, she quickly checked her phone and swore as she realised the time, her eyes growing large in panic. She stood up and stretched. “Well, I’d best be home before himself gets back from work. Especially since it’s his birthday!”

“Yeah, definitely,” Dwight agreed, helping her gather her things and pick up all the teddies which had been strewn across the carpet by the eight-month-old. He paused to make quacking noises as he held the duck teddy in front of the infant, feeling very proud of himself when she displayed a gummy smile coupled with a happy gurgle.

The baby girl was very displeased at having to be placed back into constraints of the grey car seat. Dwight bent down to tuck her little blanket around her and kissed her fondly on the forehead, shushing her gently. “Can I help you bring anything downstairs?” he asked courteously.

“No, no, I’m fine. Thank you, though.” She leaned up and placed a quick kiss goodbye on his cheek. Dwight held the front door open for her and the baby. She smiled widely at him as she passed; a beautiful smile which lit up her whole face, one which he missed whenever they didn’t get to see each other as often as they’d like to. “Bye, Dwight, I’ll hopefully see you again soon!”

He laughed lightly and held up a hand in goodbye. “Yeah, I hope so. Let’s not wait six months next time! Bye, Morwenna!”

A/N 2: AS IF I would make Dwight a cheating snake pffft! Gotcha! (I hope lmao). More to come v soon thank you for reading friends much love to you all xx

#poldark fanfic #carolight #girl next door au

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