#far cry new dawn x supernatural

[ms-rampage]

New Dawn: New Horizons Chapter 16 - Little Trickster

Warnings: Language, some violence

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: The kids along with Security Captain set out to get revenge on Mickey and Lou

Guest OCs: The usual OCs

Guest Characters: Security Captain, Gina Guerra, The Twins, Irwin Smalls.

Note: Security Captain is gender neutral. They/Their/Them pronouns. @athenalillystar didn't help out with this chapter, but it's always nice to give her a shout out for the work she's done for me!. As perusual this is a Supernatural and Far Cry: New Dawn crossover. 

A/N: Also my dumbass accidentally deleted chapter 14. So I have to re-upload that chapter 🙄🙄

Taglist: @wargames94  @rabbitsoldier  @mrsladydiana  @vicki-the-sinner  @maybeitslizzy  @heyyitsbeckie @thatgaymer3

The next morning, Captain gets up from their nasty fall caused by the twins. They slowly and painfully go up the stairs to the same room where all that shit happened. Finding Paige and Kate still cuffed on the floor with the blood from Thomas and Barbara. 

Not long later, perhaps a day or two later, Carmina gets intel that the twins are running some demolition derby at The Meat Grinder. The winner gets to have a dinner celebration with the twins.

Paige and Kate think this would be a great opportunity to send those little bitches a message about hitting their home, and trying to break them apart. Killing their godmother.

They ain’t gonna take it, they’re gonna get some shit on those little cunts. Of course they sent their kids out to “spy” on them, and surprise attack them, or at least sabotage them to embarrassment. 

Cristina, Jeff, Tom, Bianca and Daenerys, the usual group. Set out on their spy, and sabotage mission along with the help of the Security Captain who was recently ambushed by the Highwaymen and the twins.

As they're preparing, Paige approaches her kids, “I don’t want to put you all on the frontlines of this shit, but I know putting an end to them is what you all want”. She moves her eldest to the side to talk to her, “I know you and Barb were close” she tells her. “I remember there was a quote from an old, well not necessarily old, but there was a quote the main character said, and it stuck with me forever. Revenge is a fool’s game. Vengeance isn’t always the answer”.

“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t go after them? After everything they’ve done?” Cris asks her mother. 

“No, you should, this is Barbara’s and Rush’s redemption. Barb would’ve wanted us to avenge her death” she tells her.  Killing Garrett Barnes, and holding Thomas Rush hostage, saving him, and only for the twins to kill him in front of Cap. Gina Guerra, who is an ex Highwaymen, and hates the twins. Helps them in on their sabotage game. 

“I told the twins I wanted them to keep my baby out of their shit, and they didn’t listen” Gina tells the kids, “Now this shit is personal”.

“Don’t worry Gina. We’re gonna take care of them.” Cristina tells her.

“Children listen” Cap tells them, they all turn to face them, “If we’re gonna get those twins. We’re gonna do it my way”.

Cristina scoffs, “Okay Cap, how are we gonna get them back? What’s the plan?!”. 

They roll their eyes at the smartass Winchester, “We have Gina. If anyone knows anything about the twins. It’s her”. 

They plan on going to the Meat Grinder, and since Cap has their issues with the twins. They agreed to help out the Winchester family as well.

“So what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna stake out the joint, and see if the twins are really there” they tell the kids.

“Or!.” Cristina tells them, “Or we can go to Irwin Smalls. Since he’s the twins right hand man, or so he calls himself”.

“Isn’t he a Highwayman?!?” they ask.

“Yeah. He’s a high ranking member but he is also not well respected because he is known to betray his allies, and constantly argue with the twins. So it’s safe to say he’s good in my book” Cristina tells them. 

“How can we even trust this Irwin dude?!?” they ask.

“My mom has gotten shit from him before on the twins” Thomas tells Cap, “Not only our family, but the Rye’s, and pretty much everyone that lives in Prosperity knows something about the twins from Irwin”.

Captain sighs, “Okay. Okay fine we’ll go to this Irwin Smalls guy. But I swear if he turns on us, and tells the twins about us sabotaging them. I swear I will-”. 

They aren’t able to complete their threat because the eldest Winchester steps in. “Do what Cap?’ she snaps, “Kill us?. Hurt us? Turn us over to the twins?. Because if you do that, you’re gonna be in deep shit with our family, and they’ll come after your ass”.

They don’t say anything because she’s right. Her parents, their family will hunt them down. It’s best to keep their mouths shut. They go to see Irwin, and he gives them the info about the race at the Meat Grinder, as well as some fight club at the Bonecrusher pit, and of course he suggests that the Captain should participate in the race, win and take out the twins. 

It should be easy right?!. Thinking they should bring Carmina Rye with them since they need someone who was actually responsible to have their back. Not that they didn’t think the Winchester kids weren’t responsible, but they’re too hot headed, and they seem to turn on those who weren’t family, or sided with them.

Despite they all want the same fucking thing. Taking out those damn twins. That night, midnight, Cap put on a Highwayman biker suit, kept the helmet on the whole time. They were able to win that brutal race. Killing the "Warden" of the Bullet Farm, some dude named Frank, kinda easy to kill, for Cap at least it was. He was suppose to take part of the derby, and well, not anymore, thanks to them.

Thanks to Irwin, for getting them a suit, and a ride for the derby. Fire, explosions and bullets. Goddamn that shit was fucking brutal.

Loud, but also fun to watch some sad stragglers kill each other just to sit down, and eat a meal with the twins. Kinda sad, but they end up losing a limb or two, so there’s that.

The kids watch this whole thing from the outside. Keeping themselves hidden. Hiding inside a broke down old school bus that is now one with the ground.  

“Well at least they had the sense to bring Carmina along” Cristina whispers to Bianca as they all watch this “Demolition Derby Battle to the Death”. 

A dude over the PA system hyping up the drivers and getting rowdy. 

As the chaos goes on, Tommy turns to Dany, and says “Hey since Cap is killing some HWM, and everyone is pretty much occupied with the derby and killing each other. You should work up your trickster games, and find out where the twins are hiding out”.

She nods in agreement, “Yeah, yeah that sounds like a great idea” she ties her hair in a ponytail, and puts her jacket hood up, “I’ll be right back”.

She leaves to find a way into the joint, stealth mode style, while the others stay behind and keep an eye on the derby. She runs to the side of the arena, and finds a tower with a ladder going up, when she gets to the top of the ladder, she sees a Highwayman with his back to her. 

She pulls out her hunting knife, and stealth kills him. Stabbing him in the throat. She looks around, watching the cars passing each other, gunfire and explosions. A place that is not meant for a teenager. Looking for a way into the smaller building in the middle of the track. 

“Come on, come on. There has to be a way in” she says to herself.

The others see her kill the dude, no one can see since everyone is preoccupied with the murder derby.

“Shit Dany just killed a dude” Cristina whispers to the others. 

She runs around to the other side of Meat Grinder, hiding behind the giant “YES” sign, and a giant cheeseburger.

She sees an entrance in the smaller building. “The twins might be in there” she says to herself. She squeezes herself between the gaps in the fence.

Looking out for any fast moving vehicles, and semi trucks. 

She carefully walks along the sides of the dirt race track. A fence in the small building in the middle, she can easily squeeze herself through.

When the last vehicle, a giant semi truck passes, she dashes across the track, jumps onto the tires, and climbs over the chain link fence. Dropping onto some pieces of metal, bins and tires.

A few Highwaymen hear the loud metal drop. “Did you hear that?!” one asks the other.

“Yeah I think it was over there” the other answers. 

Dany jumps into a broken down car to hide in. Footsteps approach where she dropped down from.

“I know it was over here” HWM says to the other, “It came from over here!”.

The other one scoffs, “Yeah sure. Let’s go, Mickey and Lou are inside waiting for the derby winner to go in”.

She can see their feet, peeking up and sees their helmet covered faces. 

They walk away, and go inside the small room in the graffitied building.

Back on the outside, Cristina, Bianca, Jeff, Tommy and Carmina watch the race, and Cap was able to pull it off, and win the race.

“Shit, I didn’t think they were gonna make it” Bianca says to the others.

“Yeah me neither” Jeff replies. 

“Looks like Cap is going inside the middle building” Carmina says.

“I think Daenerys snuck in there” Cristina adds.  

Irwin was praising Captain for winning the derby. The plan was for Cap to win the derby, get to the dinner celebration and take out the twins, and all the Highwaymen there. Simple plan.

Dany was able to find an open between the walls. Walking between the metal walls of the place. 

On the other side, she hears two muffled voices, female and from what she can hear it sounds like they're arguing, or probably having some sort of disagreement. 

When she gets closer, she’s able to look through a small opening between the metal panels, and sees the twins.

Mickey and Lou, having an argument.

“I told you Lou, I have the final say!” Mickey argues.

“You always fucking do this!!” Lou spits back, “I don’t care, if daddy wanted it go this way”.

“He’s dead!. I have the final say. Not the both of us. Only one of us!” Mickey says back. 

“Whatever. The old man is dead, we run this motherfucker!” she says back, “Not just you, both of us!”.

“Fuck it, the winner is coming in” Mickey says.

The arguments between the two sisters reminds Dany of when Cris and Jeff argue. The ol' 'I'm the oldest' this, 'I have the final say' that.

A few moments later the metal doors open, and Cap walks in.

“Cap?” Dany whispers. Lou, and a few other HWM sitting at the table, laughing and talking. 

“Hey, I know you” Lou says, pointing to Cap, “Derby winner. Man, you put on a show”.

Laughter, and rambling from everyone at the table. 

“Thank you all for being here!” Mickey says out loud as she walks into the room, “Come along way for some of you. Fun as this is, we can’t stay long”.

Everyone murmurs to each other in, and groan in annoyance. “Been some new development. Got a proposition for you all” she says.

Daenerys tilts her head in confusion as Mickey says this. Moving along between the metal walls, trying to get a better view of the dinner celebration.

“Come on it!!”.

A man, dressed like he belongs in the Paleolithic era walks into the room.

They all laugh, “Who the fuck is he” one of the male HWM asks.

“He is our numero uno problem solver” Mickey says.

“He’s gonna take us up north, and hook us up with some crazy. What the fuck is it? Fruit?” Lou says. 

“A sacred fruit. The miracle of New Eden” he says.

The elder twin speaks up, “Yeah, that’s it. Our boy says that fruit will give you strength like you can’t fucking believe. And, for the right price, we’re willing to share with y'all”.

“New Edener?” Dany whispers, “Sacred fruit?”.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” one of them speaks up, “We’re the strongest already”.

“Damn straight!” another one says.

“For real” Lou says, “I’ve seen it”.

“You hear yourself? Sacred fruit. Un-fucking-believeable”. 

“You’re going soft in your head like you pops?”.

They all start to laugh like a bunch of goddamn hyenas. Lou breaks a plate on the table, uses the broken piece and stabs the dude in the neck. Making everybody go silent. Mickey smirks at all this. 

“Any other observations?” she asks, the dudes head dropa onto the table. 

“What the fuck?!” Dany whispers in shock. 

The New Edener speaks up, “I will give you the sacred fruit only if you do as we agree. I want you to burn New Eden to the ground”.

“A deal is a deal, man. We’re reliable” the youngest twin says.

“Now” he orders, they all glare at him “We must do it now”.

“Come the fuck on” Lou says, getting up from her chair, “Man, we’re gonna burn this motherfucking shit to the ground”.

Mickey, Lou and the New Edener leave the room.

“Magic fruit that makes you powerful? Bullshit” a HWM says to Captain, laughing at the bullshittery of this so called magical fruit.

Captain stands up, walks towards the open door, leaves and immediately comes back in. Guns blazing.

Daenerys moves forward between the walls to find a way out of this gun fight before she gets hit from behind the walls. Back on the outside, the other kids see all this. Alarms going off. 

“Shit, I think they found Captain out” Cris mutters. "You think they did?." Carmina asks her. "I'm sure of it." she responds.

They all rush the place, killing HWM in the process, looking for Daenerys and Captain. 

They run towards the now slowly opening garage, and see Cap getting into a vehicle, they see the group of teenagers. “Get it!!!” they yell. Without a 2nd thought or hesitation they all get into the vehicle, except Cristina.

“We need to find Daenerys!!” she yells, reminding the others about the youngest and smallest Winchester. 

After she says this, Little Trickster herself jumps down from a vent in the ceiling.

“I’m here, and I got some interesting info” she tells them.

“Me too!.” Cap shouts, “Now get it!!”. 

Getting into the truck, and taking off full speed, running over some Highwaymen in the process, like human speed bumps. Full on Fast and the Furious style driving. They drive far enough to where they lose their tracks from those masked assholes. 

#far cry new dawn #fcnd #my series #new dawn series #new dawn ocs #my writings #far cry new dawn x supernatural #my crossover shit #my crossovers #oc: cristina winchester smith #oc: jeffrey winchester smith #oc: thomas winchester smith #oc: bianca winchester smith #oc: daenerys winchester #fcnd security captian #fcnd captain #fcnd mickey and lou #fcnd mickey #fcnd lou

[burningexeter]

[SECOND HEADCANON/FAN THEORY]

One of the greatest animated shows of all time, Transformers Prime and its finale movie Predacons Rising, takes place in or rather shares the same universe as plenty of other media ranging from other TV shows, movies and even video games.

The theme here that would connect them all is that they focus on ensemble casts of characters not just living in a world where the odds are against, be they supernatural or not, but also having them go up against not just said odds but the highest stakes possible that affects them.

Top it off, the ensemble casts of characters are not the type of standard, generic, heroic superhero type of characters and instead are vastly different from each other with them being distinct and flawed type of people who would never think would be the "heroes" in these scenarios. They're way less Gerard Butler in 300, Liam Neeson in Taken or Robert Downey Jr. in later MCU movies and way more Genna Davis in The Long Kiss Goodnight, Paul Walker/Vin Diesel in The Fast and the Furious and Clive Owen in Sin City.

Another thing is that with the media here is that no matter how fantastical, grand in scale, epic and supernatural even as they all get, they ALWAYS remain either somewhat grounded OR grounded to some degree. Again for example, they're way less the crappy later Fast & Furious movies, the shitfest that is the DCEU and whatever the hell Ben 10: Omniverse was and way more the Jurassic Park Trilogy (even the third one with the 'Alan' raptor), Die Hard and Big Trouble In Little China.

Now let's get to it, shall we:

• Far Cry Primal

• Solomon Kane (2009)

• Wolfwalkers

• Pirates Of The Caribbean Trilogy

• Red Dead Redemption Duology

• The Wild Bunch

• The Mummy (1999) and The Mummy Returns

• Indiana Jones Quadrilogy

• Overlord (2018)

• Inglourious Basterds

• Kolchak: The Night Stalker

• Runaway Train

• Big Trouble In Little China

• The X Files (first nine seasons, 1998 film, Millennium and The Lone Gunmen)

• Heat (1995)

• From Dusk Till Dawn

• Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel

• The Incredibles

• LOST

• Heroes

• Cloverfield

• Krampus

• The Invisible Man (2020)

• Upgrade (2018)

and

• Alita: Battle Angel

[ADDED BONUS]

Whatever happened to Airachnid?

After she had drain all of her Inseticons done to nothing but the robotic bone, Airachnid was able to find a hidden yet grungy ship within the moon she was stranded on by Soundwave. Resourceful enough to make it work and turn it into her own twisted and demented ship that's all hers, Airachnid escapes and flies back to Cybertron. Learning of the death of Optimus and the war now over, Airachnid realizes she still has unfinished business she needs to settle right here and right now. She kidnaps her nemesis Arcee, who is now secretly dealing with trauma of her past once again due to Optimus' passing, and offers her an opportunity.... due to their previous fights with Arcee always winning, she managed to do the one thing no other bot or being couldn't - she impressed her. Therefore, Airachnid controls her infection and offers to Arcee that they should team up and become hunters across the galaxy but this time hunt down the worst of the worst, the most dangerous criminals there is and the deadliest of species that do nothing but cause havoc. Sensing Arcee's new PTSD and emotions after the death of Optimus Prime, Airachnid is able to use that to her advantage and manipulates her into taking the deal.... which Arcee reluctantly does.

The two of them are now bounty hunters that take in criminals of all kind throughout space whether they'd be dead or alive and as we speak, Arcee and Airachnid are awaiting their marriage this week.

#transformers prime #predacons rising #shared universe #the x files #buffy the vampire slayer #lost #heroes #whatever happened to airachnid #arcee x airachnid #SoundCloud

[meghan-huntergirl-winchester]

I’M SO SORRY!!!!!! I KNOW I KNOW!!! i know I said that I would post last week and I didn’t! Last Monday, i had a job interview and I was offered a job right on the spot and I did not get a chance at all to work on either piece! To make up for last week, this Wednesday I will be posting 2 stories! One is Protect Me, a John Seed X Blind!Sister Reader and the other is called Not My Sam! and that one will be eventually Reader X Sam Winchester! I really am sorry you guys. Midterms, a new job, and my dad is having open heart surgery and all of it just got to me. I may take the rest of November off in order to get my stories finished so I can post them but i will update you guys later on that. i will see you all this WEDNESDAY FOR NEW POSTS!!! i LOVE YOU ALL!!

#far cry 5 #farcry5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry new dawn #john seed #john seed x reader #john seed x deputy #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagines #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shots #spn reader insert #spnoneshot #SPNoneshots #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader

[atlabeth]

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

~

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

#mike munroe #mike munroe x reader #mike x reader #until dawn x reader #until dawn #until dawn fic #mike until dawn #sadie writes #i always get so insecure when i post things that arent for atla #then i remember that. this is my blog and i can write what i want #lol

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Fandom’s I Write For.

A/n:If I left anything that you know i normally write for please let me know

Movies:

Encanto

Pacific Rim.

Jurassic Park Series

.Lord Of The Rings Trilogy

The Hobbit Trilogy.

The MCU Universe

The DCU Universe.

X-Men Series.

Harry Potter ( Entire Series ) || Marauders Era ➻ Golden Era ➻ Fantastic Beasts & Where To FInd Them.

DC Animated Universe.

It Chapter 1 & 2.

The Chronicles Of Narnia.

Pirates of the Caribbean Trilogy.

Rampage

Dredd

Venom.

Mad Max: Fury Road.

Spiderman: Into the spider verse

Coco

Big Hero 6

Mission Impossible Series

King Kong

DragonHeart

The 10th Kingdom

Constantine

John Wick

The Mummy Series

Tremors

The Ritual

Klaus

T.V Shows:

Ghost {CBS}

Enola Holmes {Ugh  henry cavill is too hot }

Arcane

Titans

Cobra Kai

Mind Hunter.

Cowboy Bebop { Anime only }

The Order

Lost Girl.

Robin Hood

Sweet Home.

The Flash.

Arrow

Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Wolf’s Rain.

Saiyuki.

Psych.

Love, Death and Robots.

Gotham

Supernatural.

Grimm

Stranger Things.

The Magicians.

Criminal Minds

Merlin.

Three Musketeers.

Stargate Series { SG1 / Atlantis / Universe }

The Witcher.

The Umbrella Academy.

The Haunting Of Hill house/Bly Manor/ Midnight Mass

Gravity Falls { Stan or Ford only }

Rick and Morty { Rick only }

Game Of Thrones

Walking Dead

Hannibal.

House. M.D

Daredevil.

Constantine.

Dragon Ball Z Series.

The Punisher.

The Boy’s { Amazon Prime Series }

Firefly / Serenity

.Almost Human.

Chicago Fire / Chicago MED.

Mad Men.

Westworld.

NCIS.

True Blood

.Band Of Brothers

Ripper Street.

Broadchruch.

The Pacific.

Code Black

Greys Anatomy.

Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock BBC.

Star Wars: Clone Wars/The Badbatch

The Resident

Castelvania

Archer.

Vikings.

Black Sails

.CSI / CSI: New York.

Sons Of Anarchy.

Sleep Hollow.

9-1-1.

10th Kingdom.

Video Games:

Call Of duty

Far Cry 5/6/New Dawn

Bioshock/Bioshock Infinite

Final Fantasy VII

Final Fantasy XV

Ghost Of Tushima

God Of War

Heavy Rain

Metal Gear Solid V

Red Dead Redemption I and II

Resident Evil Series

Tomb Raider Series

Devil May Cry

The Dark Picture Series.

The Wolf Among Us.

The Witcher 3

Spider Man.

Cyberpunk 2077

Detroit Become Human

Uncharted Series

Overwatch

Mortal Kombat 

Assassin’s Creed Series

The Last Of Us

The Evil Within 1&2.

Game Of Thrones Telltale

Guardian Of The Galaxy Telltale

The Walking Dead Telltale

Batman Telltale

Middle Earth: Shadows of Mordor / War.

Gears Of War.

Until Dawn

Andromeda Six

#shit i write for #master list

[therealvinelle]

I apologize if you've been asked this before, but what are you most looking forward to in the future Renesmee book (if at all) and what would you like to see? Personally, I hate that were getting a Jacob x Renesmee book, but I'm really curious to know more about the Wolf Pack, Aro's plans, the Cullen family, and so forth. I also know we're getting a Leah P.O.V, and Freaky Fred is coming back which is really interesting... Anyway, sorry if this question is super random lol

For the record I don’t think the book should be written, because while I love me a problematic ship (see: the endless entertainment I get out of Edward/Bella), Jacob/Renesmée is a step too far even for me. I don’t want to see it.

Then there’s the fact that so far as I’m concerned, Twilight is a pit of despair.

Over the course of canon, terrible things happens to the full cast of Twilight, or they’re set up to happen like a sword of Damocles hanging over the characters’ heads. I agree with Meyer in that the end of Breaking Dawn is the calm before the storm, but unfortunately she and I fundamentally disagree on what a happy ending would entail. Her happy ending will be my nuclear wasteland.

Now, I’m all for bleakness, I wouldn’t enjoy Twilight so much in the first place if I wasn’t. The place Twilight is headed after Breaking Dawn is too bleak, though even for me.

Take Aro, for instance. As of Breaking Dawn he’s playing the prisoner’s dilemma with the Cullens. The Cullens are sitting around hoping Aro doesn’t attack them, and Aro is sitting around hoping the Cullens don’t rally another army. Not to mention that for as long as the Cullens are around, Volturi authority is not absolute.

A lot is at stake here.

To Caius it won’t even be a question, they have to take out the Cullens sooner rather than later.

So, after all his efforts to the contrary, Aro will have to pour gasoline over his once-friendship with Carlisle once and for all, and pick off Carlisle’s friends and family one by one. Or plan to, anyway. Meyer is a maverick, but in this I can predict her - Aro won’t win. And the only way the Cullens will be safe (according to Alice and Edward anyway) is if Aro and Caius are both dead.

Aro will die a bleak, meaningless death that was entirely preventable.

When it comes to the Cullens, I have a lot of unwritten meta on that subject but suffice to say I think they’re ill suited for each other and in dysfunctional relationships. Their coven is doomed, and will break up sooner rather than later.

As for Leah’s POV, I think that Leah has all the ingredients for a great protagonist. Love story gone wrong that continues to torment her, she’s the first ever female shapeshifter, and she’s got this idiot sunshine brother to protect. She’s prime protagonist material. However, hers would be a very different kind of story, and it would have had to start in New Moon. I’m just not very interested in what happens to Leah post-Breaking Dawn. Meyer might surprise me, but I’m not optimistic. 

What I’d want for Leah is for her to go to college far away and never be involved with the supernatural ever again, and that won’t happen if she’s a POV character in a Twilight novel.

As for Freaky Fred, he brings nothing to the table. My interest is nonexistent.

So, between Renesmée marrying her babysitter, Bella’s power sending a thousand-year-long empire crumbling, and the Cullens totally not breaking up, I suspect I’ll end up saying “Ah, yes, this book is fanfiction Bella wrote after her life fell apart as a coping mechanism. Of course,” and then my voice breaks at the end as I start crying.

#aro's grim inevitable fate was a large motivator for me setting out to write nebuchadnezzar's dream #in this house we write fix-it before the thing we're fixing is even published #aro #volturi #prisoner's dilemma #leah clearwater #bella swan #renesmée cullen #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #Anonymous #ask

[type1diabetesinfandom]

Type 1 Diabetes in Fandom, Fandom Masterlist

Here we are, with the Type 1 Diabetes in Fandom AO3 collection having grown to 100+ fandoms and 300 fanfics!!!

If you’ve been following along with this blog/collection so far, hello again and thank you so much! If you’re new here, welcome! I’m not attaching links to each fandom here because there’s way too many, but you can find the collection’s link in the above paragraph, and search in there for the fandoms you would like to read.

I’ve listed the fandoms of both the works and the bookmarks in alphabetical order, for ease of searching. Have fun!

*Updated sporadically

All Included Fandoms, as of September 24, 2022: 123

*Apologies if any of these are entered incorrectly or duplicated; many of them are unfamiliar to me, so I did the best I could sorting through the AO3 tags.

9-1-1 (TV) and 9-1-1: Lonestar (TV 2020)

Ace Attorney

Ace of Diamond

Amphibia (Cartoon)

Animaniacs

The Arcana (Visual Novel)

Attack on Titan

Avatar: the Last Airbender

The Baby-Sitters Club

Be More Chill- Iconis/Tracz

Bleach

The Bobbsey Twins/Nancy Drew

Bungou Stray Dogs

Cabin Pressure

Check Please! (Webcomic)

Cobra Kai (Web Series)

Criminal Minds (US TV)

Critical Role (Web Series)

D.Gray-man

Dangan Rompa

Danny Phantom

DC

Batman

DCU

the Flash

Gotham (TV)

Justice League (2017/Snyder Cut)

Legends of Tomorrow (CW)

Supergirl (CW)

Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson

Death Note

Divergent Series - Veronica Roth

Doctor Who (2005)

Ducktales (Cartoon 2017)

Far Cry 5

Fire Emblem

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Free!

Genshin's Impact (Video Game)

Graceland

Glee

Grey’s Anatomy

Grimm

Haikyuu!

Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)

Harry Potter

Hetalia: Axis Powers

How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)

IT - Stephen King

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime)

Julie and the Phantoms (TV 2020)

Jurassic Park (Movies)

Kingdom Hearts

The Last of Us (Video Game)

Law & Order: SVU

Line of Duty (TV 2012)

Lazytown

League of Legends

Lego Ninjago

Les Misérables

The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Marvel

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

the Avengers

Black Widow (Movie 2021)

Captain America

Daredevil

Doctor Strange

the Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)

Iron Man

MCU

Spiderman

Thor

What If...? (TV 2021)

X-Men

Mass Effect

Megamind (2010)

Merlin (TV)

Miraculous Ladybug

Módào Zǔshī (Cartoon)

The Mortal Instruments series - Cassandra Clare

Mòxiāng Tóngxiú

My Hero Academia

NCIS + NCIS: Los Angelas

Newsies (1992)

Once Upon a Time (TV)

*Original Work

Osomatsu-san (Anime)

Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Pacific Rim

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan

Power Rangers

The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin

Purple Hearts (2022)

Raven Cycle - Maggie Steifvater

Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston

Rockman.EXE | Mega Man Battle Network

RWBY

Scarecrow Series - Matthew Reilly

Seraph of the End

She-Ra and the Princess of Power (2018)

Sherlock (TV)

Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli

South Park

Stargate: Atlantis

Station 19 (TV)

Star Trek

Alternate Original Series Movies

Star Trek (2009)

Star Wars

the Bad Batch

the Clone Wars

the Prequel trilogy

Rebels

the Sequel trilogy

Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Supernatural (TV 2005)

Teen Wolf (TV)

Twilight Series

The Umbrella Academy (TV)

The Untamed (TV)

Until Dawn (Video Game)

Voltron: Legendary Defender

The Walking Dead

The Witcher (TV)

Yuri!!! On Ice (Anime)

Zebrafish - Sharon Emerson

#T1D #type 1 diabetes #diabetes fics #AO3 collection #type 1 diabetes in fandom

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

#gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen Oneshot #smut #lemon #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: yandere #tw: choking #tw: drugging #tw: non con #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark fic

[moonbeamsung]

Bad Dracula

I have no intention of scaring you, baby~

member: jaemin

au: vampire!jaemin x gn!reader, supernatural au

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, a little angst, slightly suggestive

warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, implied strict parenting

recommended song: bad dracula by red velvet

author’s note: Based on the song above. This was so much fun to write and I thought it fit well with the time of year, so enjoy!

The dance floor in the large ballroom pulses with energy and vibrations from the DJ booth at the far end of it. It’s packed, so much so that all the people, all the shuffling pairs of shoes, threaten to overflow from the carefully manicured tiles on the ground and into the remainder of the space. This poses a problem considering there isn’t much, due to the dozens upon dozens of fancily decorated round tables scattered throughout the brightly lit chamber, some empty as their occupants sway to the beat of the music and others full with those still finishing their exquisitely prepared meals.

Dancing close to the edge of the massive crowd, you catch sight of the moon’s reflection on the polished floor, oddly clear. A strange feeling starts to overtake you as you continue to gaze at it, physically compelling you to raise your eyes. When you do, there’s a devilishly handsome stranger you’ve never seen before leaning against the wall, directly across from you. The moonlight spilling in through the glass casts a haunting shadow on his chiseled features, but your heart stops when the sliver of a fang peeks out from between his lips, gleaming a blinding white.

How no one else notices him, you’re not sure. What you do know, however, is that he’s definitely bad news.

...Right?

Your gut pinches at the thought, the silent signal begging you to correct your instant judgement based solely on his appearance. How could you possibly be wrong, though? He’s a vampire, for goodness’ sake! You’ve been lectured and warned enough times to remember that they’re always up to no good.

The inner dilemma going on in your mind causes you to stare blankly, zoned out and unaware that your focus is drilling into the boy. Amused, he waits for you to realize this.

Eyes blown wide with surprise, you whirl around to weave in and out of the throng of people, making your way to the center of the crowd in a pathetic attempt to undo what just happened. Attention trained on the ground, a pair of shiny black dress shoes come into your line of sight.

There’s that feeling again. You don’t want to, you fight the urge this time, but trying to resist the supernatural pull makes your head ache. Bracing yourself, you unwillingly lift your eyes again, tracing the length of his figure from the hem of his dress pants all the way up to the lapel of his suit. The wine-colored ensemble seems fitting, considering the craving vampires instinctively harbor for a similarly colored substance.

His looks are even more striking up close. The allure he possesses is something otherworldly, and he has to repeat himself for you to realize he’s speaking to you. “My name is Jaemin, and you are...?” He questions, the lilt of his voice silky and seductive. Stammering a somewhat coherent response, you freeze when his cold fingers grasp your wrist, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your trembling knuckles.

“Shall we dance?” It’s a statement, not a request, and not wanting to cause a scene, you make no attempts to protest. You get lost in the way his arms feel wrapped around you, every so often being twirled by the graceful movements of his hand.

Your eyes lock with his and they put you in an inescapable trance, casting a spell on your mind until the moment that he breaks the contact, glancing almost worriedly at something over your shoulder. He returns his gaze to yours as quickly as he removed it, and the enrapturing haze settles in around you once more.

For the final minute of your dance, he brings you closer than you’ve ever been to him before, head resting firmly against his chest. A triumphant feeling of rebellion bubbles up inside of you knowing that you’d be in big trouble if your parents could see you right now, in the arms of an enchanting vampire. The mere act of associating with one would be enough for them to explode with fury, so going even further than that would surely elicit a wrath of pure, unadulterated rage.

The song ends, its slow tempo coming to a stop before being replaced by a much peppier tune.

Most of your fright forgotten for the time being, you’re more curious than anything else when he begins to drag you away from the center of the ballroom, pulling you with urgency and a force that completely contrasts with the gentleness of his touches as you danced together. Stepping out from the crowd, he leads you around to the other side of the wide marble staircase, ducking to stand behind a pristine white column that extends all the way up to the heightened ceiling. It dawns on you now that he could actually be dangerous, and all the fear comes flooding back to you.

Jaemin sees it too, the way your pupils dilate to indicate your terror of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into, your terror of him. You’re about to cry out when he stops you by covering your mouth with his hand, the low temperature of his skin startling you even more, and you wince.

“Sorry, sorry!” He whispers hastily, panicked. You take notice of the instant change in his demeanor but it does nothing to calm you down. “It’s alright, don’t freak out, okay?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he breathes, finally providing you with some sort of relief. You relax a little under his hold, still cautious but deciding to give him a chance. Slowly, he removes his palm from your lips, allowing you to speak.

“What do you want with me, then?”

Glancing around with that same look of anxiousness on his face, he leans in, murmuring into your ear with every word.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but I’m a vampire. I come from a whole family of them. My parents brought me here tonight to... uh, well, you’ve heard the stories. They want me to find someone with the best blood to drink.”

Come to think of it, you do recall seeing a carriage parked outside, black as night and delicately carved like it came from the darkest depths of the underworld. Must’ve been his, you realize.

“And that’s me because...?” You interrupt his explanation, causing him to wave a hand in the air, exasperated.

“Let me finish, okay? The thing is, vampires drink blood but it’s not the only thing we need to survive. In fact, we don’t even need it. Over time we’ve found ways to get the same nutrients in other ways and from other things. Some of us still do it for tradition’s sake. And my family is all about preserving history.”

Inhaling sharply, he continues. “But I... I can’t do it. Not only does it feel morally wrong, but I get sick just thinking about it. On nights like this, I just have to find a way to lie about finding some.”

“That’s,” he leans back to point a finger at you, “where you come in, angel. We just have to make it look like I took some of your blood, and that will be enough to satisfy my parents for a while.”

Too stunned to speak, you gape at Jaemin, leaving him waiting for your answer, wondering whether you’ll commit or not.

“Wow.”

“I understand if you don’t want to help, I can always find someone—”

“You are nothing like who I thought you were.”

Jaemin’s pale skin flushes with a color you’re not sure even exists before he beams at you. A few minutes ago, you would never have guessed the mysterious man leaning against the wall could smile this brightly. “Not all of us are bloodthirsty monsters.”

“I’m sorry I was afraid of you,” you tell him, looking down at the floor with a guilty expression.

“It’s not your fault, you had every right to be.”

“...Hold on, what was all that out there?” You accuse, brows raised in slight suspicion and a hip tilted to the side as you await an explanation.

“What do you mean, ‘all that?’”

“I mean the dance! I mean the way you introduced yourself, the way you spoke, everything... You were so cold, so intimidating. But you’re acting so different now.”

“All to put on a show for my parents, sweetheart.”

Blushing like mad, you shake your head as you remember the reason why you’re back here with him in the first place. “I’ll do it,” you say, heart fluttering at the way his eyes light up with gratitude.

“Really? You will? Thank you! Thank you so much...” he trails off, and you find the excitement in his voice adorable.

“So, how do we do this?” You ponder for a moment, tapping your shoe against the floor before an idea comes to you. “You don’t mind ketchup, do you?”

Jaemin knows what you’re getting at, nodding. “I don’t have a problem with it, so that should work fine.”

“But... how close are they going to look? Would a bite mark make it more realistic?”

Considering your words, Jaemin’s tongue darts out to lick at one of his sharp fangs, the action drawing your gaze down to them.

“You’re probably right...”

Closing your eyes and straightening your posture, you tilt your head to one side, exposing your neck. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Here goes nothing, Jaemin thinks to himself. Only he doesn’t aim for your neck.

When you feel his lips on yours you’re startled to say the least, but just like when he danced with you, you don’t pull away. The kiss is a delicious secret, only for the two of you to know about and no one else. Instead of ice his hands are like fire on your skin, and the sleeves of his satin suit jacket feel heavenly against your arms as they cling to his shoulders for dear life. It’s so intense, so heated and passionate a kiss that you feel yourself back up against the pillar you’ve been hiding behind all this time.

Not wanting anyone to get suspicious about what’s taking so long, Jaemin reluctantly separates his lips from yours and drags them across your skin, down past your jaw to halt at your neck. The magic bestowed upon all vampires gives him the power to temporarily restrict the ability of his fangs to take blood, rendering them harmless. Once he’s done this, he sinks them into the spot above your collarbone just far enough to leave an impression, eliciting a small whine from your lips but nothing more.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” you pant, taking heavy breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth while you wait to regain the strength you lost in the moment. It’s funny, you think. He didn’t take any of your blood, so why do you feel so dizzy?

Jaemin chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face since it had become slightly tousled during the kiss. His eyes widen in sudden realization and he snaps his fingers, “The ketchup!”

“Right!” You exclaim, hurriedly running over to the nearest deserted table and grabbing a single packet.

Tearing the corner, you squeeze a small dot of the condiment onto your finger before smearing it onto the skin below his lips, making it look as if it’s dripping from the edge of his mouth. Jaemin takes it from you and does the same, the red smudge complimenting the bite mark he left on your neck quite nicely, if he says so himself.

Leading you back around the staircase, Jaemin shares a second dance with you in the middle of the ballroom, and this time you’re both more comfortable with each other. From across the room, his parents’ enhanced senses of sight allow them to see your stained skin, humming in approval at their son’s apparent obedience.

“Will I see you again?” You ask in a soft voice, wavering at the possibility of losing the new friend, and maybe something more, you’ve made tonight.

“I don’t know, my dear,” Jaemin admits. “But I’ll try.”

Smiling lovingly up at him, you sigh, the three words you so desperately want to utter on the very tip of your tongue, but you feel it’s a little too soon. One day, you tell yourself.

Hidden amongst the crowd, he ducks down a little to steal a final kiss before a tall figure that’s probably his mother whisks him away and into the distance. You exchange longing glances before he’s forced to turn around, walking completely out of sight.

Taking long strides at an inhuman pace between both of his parents, Jaemin grins to himself, thinking of you and how amazing you looked tonight in that elegant outfit of yours.

From beside him, his father sniffs the air, pale nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Is that ketchup?!”

#nct #nct au #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct 127 #wayv #nct dream fanfic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin au #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #fluff #angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #na jaemin #nct halloween #nct vampire au

[sleephyjhs]

the ghost of you ; myg

pairing; human!yoongi x ghost!reader

genre; angst , supernatural au , lovers au , ghost au

tw; description of death and accidents, death mentioned throughout, heavy descriptions of grief and loss.

wc; 2.96k

playlist; too much to ask - niall horan

m.list

Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five. And counting. His shoulder must’ve ached by now - there’s no way it couldn’t have done. Why was nobody helping him? Nevermind. If I knew Yoongi, I knew he wouldn’t want to give anybody else the hassle. It hadn’t been that long. Such a prominent trait of his wouldn’t have withered away so soon.

He’d hardly ever ask me for a favour when I was alive. Now that I’m dead, isolation was his only company.

I watched from the balcony landing on the upper floor of his new apartment. Slowly, it had begun to dawn on me that I was nothing more than a phantom - an unfamiliar spirit that haunted his hallways. I wasn’t expecting to leave Yoongi as soon as I did; the guilt hadn’t quite drained from my blood. On the first night, I sat opposite him in the dimly lit living room. A single whisky glass, still coated with the third refill of the night, hugged the black coaster on the coffee table. The phone screen glowed with condolence and devastation, and his cheeks glowed with the numbing sting of grief and alcohol. There was a pizza box too. It still steamed with the anticipation of being eaten - I’m not sure whether he ever did or not.

I sobbed with him. Uncontrollable, I was. He was. He couldn’t hear me - nobody could. It was for the better, I could wallow in my own grief without being disturbed. But I could hear him. God, could I hear him.

“Why her? Why me? It should’ve been me. I need her.”

Vulnerability was far from Yoongi’s regular state. Seldom did I see him so emotionally honest. I’ve had time to reflect. Actually, all I’ve done is reflect - there isn’t much else for me to do. Watching him cry out into the echoes of a now apartment for one reminded me of the times where my echoes were met by his soothing presence; supportive and caring words which may have only been so effective since Yoongi was the one delivering them.

I wondered if he knew I was here. Who am I kidding? Yoongi doesn’t believe in ghosts. Spirits, phantoms - none of it. Why would I be here? Why would I want to stay with him? “Heaven is a better place for her, she belongs in a better place,” is what he reminded himself, verbally, leaning against the bathroom counter. He couldn’t even look himself in the eyes.

Everything happened so quickly. I hate that I remember so much of it. It wasn’t Yoongi’s fault at all, nor was it mine. Engraved in my memory was the image of the approaching car, spinning, pulling up heavy dust from the low grade country road. Clashing headlights blinded us both, and yet somehow I still could see the doom that we were to encounter. I screamed. Yoongi scrambled hurriedly at the wheel, urgently attempting to accelerate past the uncontrollable vehicle.

But it was too late. Instant collision led my passenger window to burst into a thousand rainbow shards. They showered me; it was as though I was being grated. Perhaps if I hadn’t worn short sleeves, the coarse edges of the glass wouldn’t have shaved me as closely as they did. Airbags were past their purpose now. I can’t remember if I was still screaming. Or if it was Yoongi. Maybe a bystander?

With all the reminiscence death brought me, what I believed to be my last thoughts may well have been a lie; a façade to disguise my lack of memory. I hated not being able to remember. If I did find a way to communicate with Yoongi, I could never truthfully tell him he’s the last thing I thought about. I simply didn’t know. I never will.

There are things I’m certain of. He told me over and over again, “We’re okay. We’ll be alright.” That was a lie, I knew it was then, too. I had no choice but to believe it. Believing the alternative was too scary. Too real.

“I love you.” I must’ve said this. Everyone takes the opportunity to confess to their loved ones that they do indeed love them when in such a peril dilemma. They’re almost preprogrammed; do we even mean it when we say it?

I meant it. I loved Yoongi. I love Yoongi. Sequencing the shower of shards came my last thought. A void in my mind; the silhouette of a missing sticker from the book of my life. Grief completed the last gap in the book, and it’s replacement was good enough for me to convince myself it was reality’s choice too.

“I’m so sorry.”

This could’ve been the guilt of grief interrupting my focus. I knew I was going to die, but for all I knew, Yoongi easily could’ve joined me. He was fortunate, always had been. Even if it wasn’t my honest last thought, it was more than valid now. I am sorry.

The short transaction of my spirit from reality into the unknown was short. I lingered at the sight of the crash, watching over Yoongi. I learned quickly that I was now nothing more than an apparition, perhaps one of the imagination only. The glass crumbs that had pierced his skin begged me to remove them, but I couldn’t. Aligning my fingers with his fresh wounds, I persevered with trying to extract the debris from his body. But I couldn’t. My nails scraped through, clean; from my perspective, I was mere steam in the shape of my now lifeless body.

Sirens wailed and beckoned from miles away; at least for as far as I could hear. Thick evergreen trees were unable to filter the swirling sapphire lights from illuminating the crash scene. I counted how long it took a stroke of light to return to Yoongi’s weakened face. Three seconds. One, two, three, and then a strip of blue curtained his forehead. And then again.

I only learned that I was the only casualty after eavesdropping on the attending paramedics. Now that I’d thought about it, I didn’t even turn to my lifeless body. I needed no awakening; I was well aware of the realm I had now entered. Yoongi was alive, he was more important. Checking his pulse was impossible; all the help I could provide was watching him breathe.

Help. What am I talking about? If he had stopped, what was there that I could’ve done? I suppose now that watching him inhale and exhale with shaky breath was for my own sanity rather than his well-being.

His breath was laboured, heavy with shock. He was still talking to me, rocking me, begging me to respond. And I did. I screamed at him, telling him that I was there, I was with him. He didn’t hear me, but that wasn’t enough for me to stop. I cried, howled with shallow pain. Yoongi was then unreachable. He was only sitting next to me.

Since then, I haven’t left his side. Our shared grief is unbalanced, however. I know he’s there. I can see him, smell him, hear him. But he can’t. Of course, there are photos of me in his phone. Even a few of us together. It’s all that was left of my image. And it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t give him any more, and he couldn’t gain any more.

Funnily enough, that there was one of my pet peeves that I’d festered since meeting Yoongi. He took more photos of me than he’d allow himself to feature in. Nothing spectacular would have to occur either. One night, I watched over his shoulder as he scrolled through, what seemed like, the hundreds of photos inhabited his camera roll, ones I hadn’t noticed he’d even taken. In one, I was timidly hiding behind one of the couch pillows as I intensively watched one of the horror films he’d hilariously recommended. In another, I was messing about with Holly on the floor of his parent’s house, ruffling his unshaven winter fur.

He stumbled across one of us together. Finally. Us at his brother’s wedding, under the rice white canopy threaded with the gentle subtleties of wildflowers. I dwelled on how particularly handsome he looked in his suit, with a smaller bouquet of fern sprigs and poppies attached delicately to his breast pocket. My arm was intertwined with his; he held my hand tighter than he ever had before. There was another from the same day; his brother and his bride joined us, and then his family, and then the remainder of the guests. I’ll never forget that day, ever.

My risen cheeks fell as the memories shifted to the back of my mind again. With memories came heartache and remorse. Heartache; I’ve lost the love of my life. Rather, he lost me. But I can no longer touch him or remind him how much I treasured him. That’s the unconventional type of heartbreak. And remorse? I took our time together for granted. Too short, it was. We were together for over 5 years, and he made them feel like minutes. In the end, we really couldn’t have been any closer than we were. But all the memories I had of Yoongi were the tiniest fraction of those that I wanted. I wanted more than that. I still do.

A week after moving into our new apartment, no, his new apartment, Yoongi’s piano arrived. Grand was a shortcoming. Sleek monochrome keys and polished curves competed the modern design of the main hosting room; beautiful was miles from capturing how impeccable it actually looked.

I took my time in exploring its position. The piano and I were familiar; it was the first big purchase after moving into our first home together. Yoongi cared for this piano as if it were his child. He sang to it too, although I’m not sure he always knew I was around to hear. His own songs, those that he’d dedicated to me, ones he played as a young teenager still learning the most complicated chords. One day, I asked him to teach me something. A simple infant lullaby, something easy. Bearing in mind the amount of commitments this man usually had, the act of taking time from his schedule to teach me what really was a useless skill was near enough tear-jerking.

“See? You’re a natural.”

“Some people can play this at three, Yoongi. It’s nothing impressive.”

No matter the skill or talent involved, Yoongi never failed to encourage me. There’s a lot we did together that alone I wouldn’t have even considered. Really, encouragement was an understatement. Neither of us were particularly adventurous, yet together we seemed prepared to try anything. I was never able to thank him for that.

I hovered my fingers over the middle keys, examining for any marks or bruises. Sure enough, there were none. I’m not sure what I expected. Sometimes, I was convinced Yoongi took better care of his piano than himself. I didn’t mind in the slightest. The songs he wrote me for special occasions made me quite glad he did.

There were days when dragging him away from the piano to return back to the real world for a minute or two was near impossible. Instead, I developed a habit of joining him on the stool. Looking at it from the landing made it look small. It was, really. But it didn’t feel like that when I sat beside Yoongi. If it did, I never noticed. That’s the Yoongi effect.

Minutes become hours, hours become days, days become forever.

Today, I haven’t paid much attention to Yoongi’s whereabouts. The glass banister that enclosed the upstairs landing was my usual seat; I watched everything from here. A few people had come to see Yoongi, his parents, the members, a couple old friends, it was the first time I’d seen him smile since I’d gone. He ate without hesitating, he laughed heartily again. He even cracked a joke in response to another.

He looked happy, and that made me happy.

It wasn’t necessarily moving on, though. Each day, something was different about the apartment. I sat on Yoongi’s bed as he set up the wardrobe. His monochrome closet hadn’t lost its ‘Yoongi’ essence. Next to the wardrobe was a spare cupboard of an identical size. Would I have been able to, a tear might have just fallen from my eye. Yoongi filled the rails with my clothes. They still smelled like me; the same perfume with a base note of my regular deodorant. A pair of my best heels which he bought me for attendance of a some grand event or another next to my white canvas converse sheltered in the top cubbyhole on top of smaller garments of mine that he hadn’t quite brought himself to donate.

The day after, I caught him spraying a couch cushion from our old home with my signature perfume. He always did like it. On the nights where we became closer than close, I always made sure to wear it for him; I knew I’d be rewarded for it. My memory now lived on in the form of a staining stench. One that I was certain would one day suffocate him.

Today, there were no changes. Yoongi left the apartment early in the morning - I suspect for work. He needed to get out, desperately. I was around him all the time - both ironically and genuinely - so much so his new apartment had become a smaller trinket of a shrine to me. I’d get sick of it too.

Wherever he went, I let him go. What was I supposed to do to stop him? Ghosts don’t pack much of a punch.

It was the first time I’d gone more than a few hours without seeing him since my death. Usually, Yoongi was never further than the corner of my eye, and if he was I could at least hear him humming to himself

But the silence was still. There was chaos in the calm. This sudden isolation was my first opportunity to mourn Yoongi alone since we lost one another. I didn’t cry though. Instead, I wallowed in the emptiness I felt. Of course, I was empty. I felt as though I were the right side of a friendship bracelet, missing the ‘Best’ side of me.

Somehow, I’d managed to traipse downstairs. Aimless wandering was on track to become my first spiritual habit. I approached the piano - I had meant to do this. I understood now how there could be comfort in music. When Yoongi aligned himself so closely to his piano and his songwriting, it was difficult to now associate one to the other.

The stool was already ajar - I could squeeze in here. Pianos are overwhelmingly daunting the first time you sit at one without somebody who can play. There are more keys - more options - than you first assume. I ran my fingers down from the highest octave down to the lowest. Strangely, I could near enough feel the rumps of the keys against my plushy skin. Pushing down, the melody Yoongi had taught me began to play like an exclusive soundtrack of my 20s.

It was all in my head, but it felt real. Grief has always done strange things to people, and it seemed I was no exception.

For hours, I continued to replay the limited memory of what Yoongi had taught me. After a while, I began adding my own chords or notes, completely oblivious to the overall value they deducted from my solo performance. Eventually, I became lost in my own serenade. Miscellaneous noise blocked itself out; I was alone with my piano.

His piano.

And so, when Yoongi walked back into his home, he seemed quite stunned to hear our song echoing through the marble-accented walls. He stood, utterly speechless, in the archway to where he left his prized possession. I only noticed him after a few seconds.

If Yoongi didn’t believe in ghosts before, he was left with close to no other choice now.

Maybe he thought he was imagining the sound? Until his jaw dropped, that’s what I had believed too. Yoongi’s gummy smile revealed itself to me; it was almost as though I could read his thought procession from his eyes. Scrunching the tip of his nose, I watched as Yoongi fought back what I was positive were tears.

How the melody was audible to us both was far beyond my comprehension; perhaps it was our connection that made the melody viable to us. The keys were real, I could feel them. I shouldn’t have been able to, but I could.

Yoongi stalked up to the piano like a lion stalking his prey. Except Yoongi wasn’t preparing to pounce. He was scared of frightening my melody away.

Nothing could have frightened me away. This was as close as I’d ever dared to return to Yoongi. I knew too well that if I got too close, I’d never be able to separate myself from him again. I wouldn’t put myself through that heartbreak again. Or him, should he even realise that I was there.

The stool that matched the piano was longer than the average, but it still wouldn’t have seated both me and Yoongi. He edged himself to the end of the stool as though he were making room for me. Still, there was no gap between us. My leg overlapped his. He was warm. I was not.

He played my same melody in a lower octave, even adapting to my added chords and adlibs. He smiled to himself, tears finally slipping from his lower eyelid. Some rushed to the cliff of his jaw and fell to their demise on the black keys of the piano. I would’ve given anything to wipe them away. Anything at all.

tag list !!

@mama-m0chi @liriaus @loveyoongles @weltmaya @mrsfortune1306 @janeelizabeth1216

#yoongi #bts angst #yoongi angst #min yoongi #suga #yoongi imagine #yoongi one shot #bts #bangtan #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts drabble #request #bts headcanon #bts mtl #bts fluff

[ms-rampage]

New Dawn: New Horizons Chapter 15 - Our Home

Warnings: Language, Angst, Violence, Blood and Death

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: Joseph returns to New Eden. A longtime family friend is attacked by the twins. 

Guest OCs: The usuals. Barbara Teller (FC: Katey Segal)

Guest Characters: The usuals. Mickey and Lou. Thomas Rush

Note: Security Captain is gender neutral. They/Their/Them pronouns. Yet another huge thank you to @athenalillystar for helping out for writing this chapter!! 💕💕😭. This is a Supernatural and Far Cry: New Dawn crossover

A/N: Remember when I said in the last chapter that the next one will be "up soon"? Yeah that was a fucking lie 🤣😅

Taglist: @wargames94  @rabbitsoldier  @mrsladydiana  @vicki-the-sinner  @maybeitslizzy  @heyyitsbeckie @thatgaymer3

Yet another long journey from Joseph’s sanctuary to the New Eden compound. Not wanting to sit in silence this whole journey. The Father sat across from the two girls on the boat. 

“I’ve seen you before” Daenerys says to Joseph, “When I was 6”.

“I know my child” he responds almost immediately. Surprising both of them. 

“So you remember me?” she asks. 

“Yes. You are from the Winchester family. Both of you” he says, “I remember both of you”. 

“So you know our family?!” Cristina asks him. Slightly nodding his head, “Yes. I know your family. We were enemies at one point in time”. 

Both of them don’t say anything else until they get to the compound even up until then, neither of them say any other words to Joseph. They follow behind as Ethan gives a speech about him and how they should move on, forgetting about Joseph. 

They stay back while Captain goes with him. 

“Our future depends on adherence to my strictures. We can no longer hope for Joseph to save us. He is not coming back. We must put him out of our minds and…” Ethan trails off as he sees Joseph. Walking through the small crowd of followers. 

You can see alarms going off in his head, everyone turns and sees The Father. Hope and joy in the eyes of all of them. 

“Where have you been?” Ethan asks Joseph, “Our land is under siege. Our land is threatened. You disappeared. You left us when we needed you. Why?!”. 

As they talk, go back and forth with each other, Cristina and Daenerys step away from the compound. 

“Well now that we have New Eden on our side, we should get going” Cristina tells her. 

Nodding, “Yeah I think we should”. They tell Captain that they’re leaving, and they take a boat back to the mainland and return home to the compound.  

Upon returning home, they are greeted by their parents. 

“Oh finally!” Kate sighs, relieved that her only daughter is home from her dangerous journey. Gabriel follows not far behind her. Paige and Kenneth along with the Triplets go to Cristina, and everyone else. 

“Are you okay??” Paige asks her eldest daughter. 

Nodding, “I’m fine. We had no trouble” she responds. 

A few hours later, the kids are sitting outside on the 2nd floor front balcony. 

“What happened on your trip??” Jeffrey asks his elder sister and cousin. 

“We found Joseph” Cristina answers, “He was out in the mountains. Hiding out”. 

“That wasn’t the weird part, but how we found his word. Well it was actually Captain that found it, it’s a book, a bible like book. I didn’t get to read it but that's what it looked like to me” Daenerys tells them. 

“What’s he like?” Bianca asks them, “Joseph Seed. What’s he like??”. 

They pause for a moment, trying to find the correct words. Cristina then says, “He’s difficult to describe. From what our parents have told us, he seems a lot different from what they’ve told us about him”. 

“But from what they said about him to us. That was almost 20 years ago. People tend to change over the years” Thomas tells them. 

“Apparently he has a son” Daenerys tells them, “His name is Ethan, but I don’t think he’s a blood relative to Joseph”.

“What makes you say that??” Bianca asks, curious. 

“I don’t know. He doesn’t look like Joseph, he doesn’t have any resemblance to him. Yeah I know, he has a mom and he probably looks like her, but I just have this feeling that Ethan isn’t really Joseph’s”. 

A few moments of silence have passed, they sit in silence and watch the sun slowly set behind the mountains. From outside, down on the ground level from the 2nd house. 

The Angels, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Castiel, Gadreel, Uriel and as well as Lucifer watch the 5 teenagers, the 2nd Archangel not really paying any attention to the 5 teenage humans, or to anything at all for that matter.  

“Are you sure she has powers??” Gabriel asks Michael. 

“I’m sure” he responds, “I know she does. I can feel some angelic grace radiating off of her”. 

“Are you sure Michael?” Castiel immediately asks his older brother, “I don’t sense anything from her. Even from where I’m standing”.  

“I’m sure Castiel. I know for a fact. She is dangerous, she may have very little control and knowledge about the powers she possesses”.

“But will she be able to use them??” Gabriel inquires, “What if she discovers them accidentally?!?. She’ll freak out, panic. I know she will”. 

“Only time will tell” the eldest Archangel responds, but the response isn’t good enough to Gabe.

Daenerys is a 16 year old human, her having the powers, and the strength of an Archangel would be incredible, but is also very dangerous. Her being the first human in the history of humanity to inherit the powers of an celestial being. 

Coming from two full humans, her mother Kate Winchester, and her deceased father John Seed. Being born after her birth father’s death, and not knowing of his existence. Not knowing that Joseph Seed is her uncle by birth, and by blood. That being the reason why she doubts Ethan is actually Joseph’s son. 

Not long after, Paige gets a radio call from Captain telling her that Thomas Rush was taken by the Highwaymen, and was being kept hostage by the twins. Shortly after they get that information, their godmother, Barbara was taken by them as well being held hostage. 

“They took him. They took Rush” Paige mutters, fear and panic in her voice. 

“What?! Where is he??” Kate asks.

“I don’t-” she gets cut off when she gets a radio call from a familiar voice. A familiar, annoying and bitchy voice. The voice of Mickey.

“Listen up Losechesters. We have yo’ granny, and Rush. We fuckin’ warned you. We warned you, Rush and your Captain not to fuck with us, and ya’ll will now pay the fuckin’ price”. 

Just hearing her voice makes Paige’s blood boil, and skin crawl, “When we get there. You and your wonder twin sister are fucking dead” she growls into the radio. 

Both twins laugh at her response, “We’ll see about that!”. Dead silence, static on the other end. 

“Kenneth you and everyone else stay here!” Paige tells her husband. 

“Where are you going?! What happened?!” he asks, oblivious to what’s going on.

“Those fuckin’ twins took Rush and Barbara” Kate mubles angrily while getting into their now beaten up, and old Monte Carlo that somehow survived the impact of the collapse. 

“C’mon we need to get them back” the elder Winchester sister says, while starting up the car, and speeding down the dirt road towards the Green-Busch fertilizer plant. 

Captain follows closely behind them in hopes to bring Thomas back alive, while Paige and Kate have the same priority they also need to get Barbara back with their family. 

She was the one that raised them when they were taken away from their mother all those years ago. She took care of them, checked up on them, she’s pretty a 2nd mother to them. A close, long time family friend, their adopted mother, aunt. Whichever she’s family to them, and that's all that matters to them. Family doesn't end in blood. 

“What happened? What’s going on?” Daenerys asks the other 4. 

“The twins got Rush and aunt Barbara” Thomas tells her. 

“Oh no” she mutters. 

They arrive at the plant, speeding, and making sharp turns the whole way. Once arriving, Lou’s voice plays over the intercom. “If you want Rush back, you have exactly 3 minutes, but also we have some of your people locked inside the silos with explosives, and once the timer is out, they’re as good as dead. Tick fuckin’ tock!”.

“Shit, Kate, Paige you guys save the people in the silos and I’ll look for Thomas” Captain tells them. 

They all move quickly to save the people, all while getting shot at by Highwaymen. 5 people in different locations, Kate is able to disarm a few of them, and free them before they were killed.

Paige fends off the advancing Highwaymen so that Captain could get to Rush, all while keeping their cover from their bullets. 

Captain bursts through the door, and sees Thomas with his arms tied behind his back. Mickey standing by a window. 

“Captain? What’re you doing here?!? Get outta here, now!” he tells them. 

  “This feels really familiar” Mickey says, “Like we’ve been here before”. 

Lou steps to the room, staring at them and Cap becomes very defensive, one move and this could all go bad real quick. 

“Relax” Mickey continues, “Stay awhile” while motioning to some chains and cuffs hanging from the ceiling. 

Telling Cap to hang themselves by the wrists, while they tortured Thomas in front of them?. Probably, Captain resisted, but with a possible chance of death they cuffed themselves. 

“Look at that?! See how easy you can be to get along with if you just listened!. I wanted you to understand that, I wanted to get that everything could have ended differently if you left, went away. But instead you chose to be a huge fuckin problem!”. 

Mickey steps outta the way, while Lou takes a double barrel shotgun and blows Thomas Rush’s head off his shoulders. Blood pouring out where his head once was, gushing all over the dirty, graffitied concrete floor. 

“Thomas!” they exclaim, regretting putting the cuffs on in the first place. 

Lou comes at them with her pink helmet in hand, “And when we tried to reason with you over, and over!. You wanted to make something that it's never gonna be!”. Striking them with her helmet several times. 

Paige and Kate head upstairs to the gun sound and loud banging. 

“Captain?!” Paige calls out. The twins hear this, “Oh? You brought friends! How nice” Lou tells them. 

Both sisters kicked down the door, and immediately get blindsided by the twins. Lou hitting Kate with her helmet and Mickey striking Paige on the head with the shotgun butt. Cuffing their hands behind their backs, leaving both Winchester sisters blooded, and bruised. 

“Well since you two decided to show up!” Mickey tells them, “Another pain in our asses. We got someone who belongs to you”.

Lou comes back into the room with Barbara, her face all beaten and bloody. The weak, and barely alive but holding on to dear life, 70 year old woman. Pressing her foot on her back.

“Barbara!” Kate whinces out, blood dripping from her mouth.  

“So sweet of you to come all this way for your granny” Mickey tells them, “Other than your fancy friend here with their fancy train and fancy people. Your family has been another problem to us. You hit us, we hit you back… harder”. 

Without hesitation or even a few second pause. Lou hammers down on Barbara’s head with the same helmet she used on Captain.

“No!” Paige screams. “Stop! Please!” Kate screams out as well. 

Lou stops beating her for a brief moment that doesn’t last even a second before striking her once more that kills her, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” Paige mutters angrily, trying to get out of her restraints. 

“Barbara!” they both cry out. 

“Shut them up!” one of the twins shouts before knocking out both Winchester sisters. Captain breaks out of their cuffs, breaking the metal chain like its made out of a rubberband, and going fucking insane. Throwing both twins across the room. Punching Lou a few times before getting blasted by the same shotgun that killed Thomas Rush and through a window that is on the 2nd floor of the fertilizer plant. Leaving them on the ground below with blood and broken glass on them. 

#far cry new dawn #far cry new dawn x supernatural #fcnd #my writings #new dawn series #joseph see #ethan seed #fcnd the judge #fcnd captain #fcnd ocs #oc: barbara teller #oc: paige winchester #oc: kate winchester #fcnd mickey #fcnd lou #new dawn: new horizons #hope county #writers on tumblr #my ocs #supernatural references #fcnd highwaymen #my crossovers #my crossover shit

[sarcasticfina]

Fic Writer Tag Game

How many works do you have on AO3? 263

What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,901,188

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? including the fandoms on FFnet, that haven't yet been moved over to ao3, that'd be a total of 37. separating the larger fandoms (marvel, dcu) into their individual parts: Thor; Arrow; Smallville; The Vampire Diaries; Glee; Captain America; Supernatural; Teen Wolf; Iron Man; Life with Derek; Firefly; Friday Night Lights; X-Men; Fantastic Four; Harry Potter; Sons of Anarchy; Girl Meets World; Batman; Daredevil; From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series; Transformers; Lost Girl; Game of Thrones; Banshee; High School Musical; The OC; One Tree Hill; CSI: New York; Degrassi; Gossip Girl; NCIS; The Unusuals; Criminal Minds; iCarly; Secret Life of the American Teenager; Twilight; and The Listener

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. and I wonder (if everything could ever feel this real forever) - darcy/bucky - Steve tells him that Darcy's harmless. Bucky imagines, on paper, Darcy is harmless. HYDRA wouldn't give her a second glance. But he does. He can barely keep his eyes off her. He's not sure he wants to. | Kudos: 5576

2. I Climbed The Tree To See The World (When The Gusts Came Around To Blow Me Down, I Held On As Tightly As You Held On To Me) - darcy centric | darcy/steve - The path to self-discovery, including becoming Coulson's assistant-slash-liaison-slash-bff, Captain America's lady love, and rating fourth on the SHIELD BAMF scale, was like the yellow brick road; it was chaos and confusion around every bend. | Kudos: 3973

3. Take a little piece of my heart (and keep it for yourself) - oliver/felicity - A collection of Olicity prompts on Tumblr posted here for easier access/reading. | Kudos: 3498

4. You put your arms around me (and I'm home) - darcy/bucky - A collection of Darcy/Bucky oneshots, drabbles, and prompt fills. | Kudos: 3293

5. you (anchor me back down) - darcy/bucky - "I'll be right back." Famous last words. | Kudos: 2747

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? not all of them. i do try to keep up on them, especially on longer stories when there's been significant wait times in between chapters, or when a reader is asking a question or is unclear on something. and especially when someone writes a really indepth comment/review, i like to respond to those and talk about motivations and character growth.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I've written a number of fics that either had suicide or major character death, so i'm not sure if one outranks the other in terms of most angsty... hmm... i remember "be still and know that I'm with you (be still and know that I am here)" and "light a match, burn the world to ash (I will watch it die, and hold your hand as I fly)" both got some pretty intense reactions when they were posted. And "It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Go On)" was basically just angst from beginning to end. buuuuut, i think i'll say "so you think you can tell (heaven from hell" was, only because there's a build up of everything going so right, only to pivot at the end, so it feels very bittersweet.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? i loooooove crossovers. i find writing in the marvel fandom makes things quite easy, but also smallville. as long as i can find a common thread, i enjoy finding a way to overlap two shows. i'll say the hardest one to write was "ruby red slippers (unavailable in her size)." I'm not sure why, but i found writing each personality together just felt strange. i liked the idea behind the story, but i definitely remember feeling like i was really forcing myself to keep going, like something just didn't fit right.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? oh, definitely. you cannot please everyone, it's impossible. for the most part, hate comes and i either argue back, take the criticism for what it's worth, or just ignore it when it's baseless. i think the hate that bothered me the most was a homophobic PM someone sent me re: "you know I will adore you ('til eternity)," on FFnet. i actually went and searched it up. they've since blocked me so i can't read our whole thread back and forth. but i did put part of it on tumblr so i could rant on it a bit, so you can see that here.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? ha. yes. depending on the story, it can be really detailed or really flowery. it depends on the ship, the plot, and how graphic i feel like being. i've definitely become more comfortable over the years with my writing. that said, i think everybody likes something different. i once had a reviewer tell me a sex scene was too much, just too intense. it was a stefan/caroline story and to be fair, that entire oneshot was just them fucking, lol, but it is what it is. to each their own.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Multiple times.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! for the record, i am always happy to have my stories translated and shared. i just like having a link sent to me and to be credited.

What’s your all time favorite ship? i have a list of OTPs, because interests change and as shows come and go, my love for a ship can be shelved for a while before it pops back up at random. currently, i can't get enough of buck/eddie from 9-1-1. and, historically, chloe/oliver (smallville) and felicity/oliver (arrow) have been two of my top OTPs. but i think i'd have to go with bonnie/damon. they had all the potential and the show dropped the ball by not exploring it. at the same time, that's kind of a blessing, because i don't trust those writers to properly explore what they had without eventually destroying it for the likes of de/ena. it means a treasure trove for writing where it could have gone and all the what if's.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? the intention is always to finish. but given how i feel about allison mack and how that impacts my feelings re: chloe sullivan, pretty much anything with her as a main character is not something i see myself returning to.

What are your writing strengths? What are your writing weaknesses? i'm putting these together because my strength is my weakness. i love to write. when i get an idea, i go all in and i will skip eating and sleeping to just write write write. but i also eventually hit a wall and i get so many ideas that i hyperfocus on one until the steam is gone and then i hyperfocus on the next one to maintain that need to keep writing, accidentally leaving the last story in the dust for entirely too long. i also have clinical depression that comes and goes, which hasn't been super great mixed with covid and isolation, so more often recently, i find myself overly exhausted and despite wanting to write, can rarely get motivated to do so. so, pre-covid, wrote so much i left entirely too many stories dangling. during covid, i've just been reading and struggling to get myself focused enough to do what i love.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i appreciate the authenticity when possible, but i've recently been reading more about how native speakers of other languages feel when a) their language is butchered by google translate, or b) it's just not genuine in terms of how bilingual speakers act or speak.

What was the first fandom you’ve written for? it was smallville, but i remember adopting it out to someone else because i wasn't going to finish it. so if you look at my ffnet, the first fandom i wrote for appears to be x-men: the movie, but i remember writing a chloe/oliver story prior to that.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? i have a lot. i mean, on ffnet, i have 576 stories, many of which were transferred over to ao3, with a lot of oneshots and drabbles getting joined together into collections. so there's a ton to pick from that span a 14-ish year timeline.

"you know I will adore you ('til eternity)" and "let me break (the walls that surround me)" hold a special place in my heart.

honestly, each story is important in its own way. there are bits and pieces of each that i love. every time i write something new it feels like my favorite. my best. and then a new idea comes along. there are scenes i've written that i loved more than the whole of what they became. lines that stand out that are almost too good to be a part of the larger picture.

one of my all time favorite passages i've written was bonnie's thoughts on damon and herself in 'if you love me (let me go)":

He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets.

She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about.

there are other stories, other pieces of dialogue, that i've been proud of. that make me laugh when i re-read them. that make me cry. and i love them. there are others that make me wilt and cringe and regret. it's a process. love and pride and growth, all bound together.

Tagging: @absentlyabbie, @anonymous033, and anyone else who'd like to fill this all out, haha

#fic writer tag game #long post

[baobaojng]

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - third

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first, second, third, fourth, fifth

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - 1800’s jaehyun!au , arranged marriage! au , supernatural-ish?!au , victorian? i think? !au

themes: angst, fluff, (just some implied smut along the way, i’m far too soft)

reminders: i’m half lazy, so i might not be able to drown myself in as much 1800’s facts as i’m supposed to as a responsible author — SO, yes, this will purely rely on fiction

note: and the plot gets thicker............ + sinful amounts of fluff and awkward encounters, i love writing senseless dialogue!! + ALSO, i’m dedicating new mood boards per chapter to set in some sense + ALSO ALSO THIS CHAPTER IS ABSOLUTE CRACK I’M SORRY

summary: in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed.

wordcount: 8,360

>

Apparently, in this life, you hated being exposed under the sun for a long period of time. Or, as Donghyuck likes to ‘politely’ describe it— you absolutely detest being in places too bright and places too crowded. Your tolerance for anything public was allegedly pretty low. A party pooper in your own right, if you will.

It was more than a pleasant day outside, and the maids and the other help have been scrambling about since they saw a single ray of sunlight crack through the windows after dawn. To them, and to the lot that lived here, good weather and any sign of it was a miracle. There was some unspoken rule in the manor that whenever the weather was nice, everyone would spend the day outdoors. This was an unspoken rule that you never followed, according to Donghyuck - because you stayed inside no matter the occasion.

Now, for the better part of the week that you have stayed in this manor - you always cooped yourself inside your room or the workspace you discovered. And it was very easy to notice that the outdoors wasn’t usually the ideal space to pass the time; it was usually gloomy and grey, and when it did not feel content with the sadness it would even drizzle and rain. Donghyuck was surprised to see you exit the manor’s doors to find them in the garden this morning, and he eventually had to explain that his reaction was because this simply was not ‘your thing to do,’ and was not ‘your favorite weather to be in.’ Instead you shrugged the assumption off, telling him that sometimes people change. But he did whisper under his breath that he’s had enough surprises from your ‘changes’ over the past few days.

The Yang sisters did not waste time calling you out on this either, at first asking why you even bothered going out if you were wearing such thick layers of clothing— to which you responded for them to remove the thick layers of dead skin on the heels of their feet (that you could very much see, as they were barefoot in the grass). They couldn’t seem to ever have responses to your quick retorts so far; they did not know that you had the power of all the modern day chick flicks on your side. Mean Girls and 10 Things I Hate About You was definitely on your side, and you could really care less about the way you acted around these girls to begin with. It was always entertaining to be ahead of the curve when it came to the insults.

You had to silently agree though, it was hot under the petticoat of your dress. So you decided to take a quick run back inside to dress in a more breathable outfit.

The second time you walk out to the gardens is even more beautiful than the first; the help already starting to trim off of the large hedges that surround the house. Nothing could ever smell quite like greenery being cut, nothing could ever smell quite like nature in the 1800’s where everything is not as disturbed in nature. It is something your senses cannot explain. But there is also beauty in the way the sunlight hits the raindrops that the leaves have collected, the inability to evaporate made for nature’s version of sparkling in the light. You smile and close your eyes just to breathe a little bit, breathe everything in, as if there are no problems in your head.

The lord of the house has never seen you quite like this, a slice of heaven being struck by the light. Out of everyone in the manor, he is truly the only one who notes details about you so attentively (he will probably never admit to this though.) He could never possibly imagine seeing you like this: with your hair loosely tied, your clothing not in many layers - the loose dress complimenting your figure, and the golden sheen of the sun splattering across the high points of your face. To him you looked like art, a painting he would love to brush through with only the tips of his fingers. Truth be told, he does not think he would have ever imagined you to be the way you acted like you did over the past week. Always so sharp, witty with responses (with expressions he had to really wrack his brain for to understand, but he did not know that you spoke the way a lot of people spoke in the future), having this angry temper— just far different from the person he’s known since he was younger - a far cry from the woman he was promised (and he had promised) to marry.

He arrived to the gardens only a few moments after you’d left to change and now that you’ve arrived again, he was staring at you.

“Donghyuck! The weather is absolutely fantastic, we must play catch!” He looks at you as you crack a smile, tugging at his younger brother’s arm.

“Catch?” Donghyuck asks, and he is left with the same sentiment. What was this game you were speaking of?

“It’s just passing an object back and forth,” you retrieve a crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, “come on now it isn’t that difficult!” Jaehyun watches intently as you try to explain the concept of the game to Donghyuck, and he thinks that it is really not a difficult game; he already understands it. His little brother takes a couple of painful looking hits to the face, not agile enough to keep up with the precise way you threw the paper ball. He doesn’t remember you being so active either: all the times there had been horse races or games of cricket, you always watched and looked so unbothered by sport.

And now you were making up games, successfully beating out a younger and more energetic competitor.

“I wonder what ever did go wrong with her,” Eleanor says, seated with her sister a bit away from Jaehyun, “she’s acting like a child now.” Obviously talking about you.

“Oh come on, now! Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got, Donghyuck.” While the other girls were talking about you, you were still teasing his younger brother - tiring him.

“You can’t be surprised Eleanor, she isn’t our kind.” Catherine answers her sister, and Jaehyun can very much hear everything that’s going on.

“I’ll take a shot at this ‘catch’ then, lady Y/N.” Jaehyun shoots up from his seating position from the mat laid out on the grass, saving poor Donghyuck who has his hands rested on his kneecaps catching his breath. Both the Yang sisters give each other a look, wondering why Jaehyun would ever even want to join you.

You, on the other hand, are stunned by the challenge; Jeong Jaehyun had quite the build, and it was a little bit intimidating. Credit had to be given to his physique, no matter how many times he put you in an off mood.

“Maybe I can make this exception,” the corners of your eyes are dragged up as you smirk, “but I must warn you that I do not really take any considerations to sore losers.”

He can tell that this is playful banter, and he also cannot deny that he finds this attractive. In fact all the new things about you drove him a little bit crazier and insanely attentive.

The man only offers a bow. “Donghyuck, please do keep track of the score.”

On the first throw from you, he misses: the  paper ball hitting his thigh. You try to suppress the laugh, and contain the urge to make fun of him for his poor agility in that moment. He only aggravatingly wonders why he was not able to even catch the thing. That is until his first throw, when it flies past a few centimeters away from your hair - and you are caught off guard. Jaehyun only silently retorts with his own smirk now, the dimple on his cheek mocking you. Heavily mocking you.

So on your second throw you decide to aim for his face, but he quickly dodges away.

“I don’t think that ‘that’ was a part of the rules.” He tells you, but you shrug.

“I do not recall setting down any rules that say I cannot throw it toward your face, lord.”

He stands his ground, relaxing one foot in front of the other. “Well, then, since you are responsible for creating this game lady Y/N. I do believe you are responsible for picking the ball back up.”

The paper ball thing is about five feet behind him, and you sigh. “Oh men, you can’t ever get past misogyny.” Your posture drops as you literally drag yourself to get the ball.

It’s silly how as you are distracted by your annoyance, Jaehyun is distracted by you. But he notices a stone in your way that might cause you to trip as you walk toward him, and his first instinct is to take both your forearms and stop you. Although the balance is really off when you are still in motion as he does this, making you grip at his shoulders when the two of you fall— his back the first thing coming into contact with the ground.

The first instinct you have is to laugh at what just occurred; at first your mind does not notice the proximity between the two of you. But when you do notice how you can feel the rising of his chest, and how you can smell the scent of his musk - you remember that this is literally the closest you’ve ever gotten with him. Your smile slowly turned into something else, your mouth agape at how beautiful he was.

This was something you were going to definitely keep telling yourself. Jeong Jaehyun was absolutely, too gorgeous to ever exist.

Now that you can see him in the light of day, where you can see all the little details of his eyes - how his freckles danced across his cheeks, meeting even at his nose - it was devastating. He was devastating.

Had it been right to say that you were lucky to be promised to this man in this life, you would say it with all greed as he looked at you the same way you stared at him— only when he looked at you he wondered how he never noticed your beauty. God, did you feel your palms sweat because it felt like there was only you and him. Time was a fatal construct now, and to everyone else but you this was unfair: how to beautiful people are looking at each other so intimately without lust or intention. All while neither one of them wants to tell the other that they are beautiful.

“I bet you cannot outrun me to the orchard.” His vowel sounds come out to be raspy when he speaks, and you can feel the hums in his chest.

You smirk. “I bet you wouldn’t admit defeat even if I served it to you,” he pretends he isn’t fazed when he lifts both his eyebrows, “but for my sake, I’ll still prove you wrong.”

He turns you over, pinning you down. In your head this shouldn’t even be possibly happening, but you go with it anyway; everything feels like a dream. The two of you are caught up in laughter, until you realize that you have to get running before he does - and he’s at an advantage right now. In a clumsy attempt you escape the tangle of limbs you’ve made, and you begin sprinting.

Watching the two of you, Yuta nudges at Donghyuck, “I don’t think we’ve ever seen them like this.” Donghyuck pretends like he’s about to vomit (when actually the young lord was swooning inside.)

You shout every time there’s something in the way that might make you lose balance, and Jaehyun was running right behind you. Mud was definitely going to get all over the dress you were wearing, but as you passed the rows of crop in the orchard you did not care. Neither of you noticed the change in setting when you entered the forest, the shade of the trees making it colder. But the two of you were laughing and running out of your minds.

As you saw bright lights at the edge of the woods, a tiny meadow of wildflowers greeted the two of you.

The fair outcome is that you really outran him, catching your breath an impossible pace. The unfair outcome is how he tackles you to the ground as if you hadn’t had your fair share of time in the dirt and grass already. But the two of you only end up sitting, carrying your upper body weight with your palms lain behind your backs.

“You’re wrong you know,” he says in pants, “I admit defeat.” He proceeds to chuckle under his breath. “You have some legs on you.” Jaehyun puts his arms over his elevated knees as he looks around the flowers of white and yellow that surround you.

“Well then, it is my pleasure to be proven wrong.” It’s a bad joke, but it cracks a smile onto his face anyway. “Not so bad yourself.” The last thing you thought you’d ever be giving him would be a compliment, but there is a feeling of compassion radiating from him.

He does not mean to, but he all of a sudden turns serious. “Say, will you ever tell me about what happened?” You know what he is referring to.

“I cannot tell you now, if that is what you ask,” the only thing you can offer is a hopeful look, “it is only now that I feel like I’ve gotten to know you.” It isn’t completely a lie; you really did not know this man. Or if you did, you couldn’t recall anything else than harsh encounters. This is the most ‘human’ interaction you have had.

“Fair.” He nods at you and for a while you think that maybe he understands this well, but his smile fades away into disheartenment.

Just when you thought the atmosphere started to get comfortable, you think. You playfully push him as a warning, “don’t kill the mood! The sun is so wonderful and you seldom see the flowers bloom this way. Keep that frown away from your face.”

And so he does smile— not because of the bees collecting nectar, the heat of the sun, or the beauty of the day— but because of you.

-

Despite sitting in the middle of a meadow with each other (drowning in the silence of sweet nothing) for some time after chasing each other down like children - the walk back to the manor’s gardens is very much awkward.

His dimples stick out as he plays with the air inside his mouth because the silence is too thick, and with his perfect posture your mind begins to go back to the initial idea you attached to him. That he is a respectable man of the times. The fucking owner of the entire lot you ran around with, and was probably the Victorian equivalent to somebody as rich as Elon Musk. Ha, funny thought. Jaehyun was the only rich man you knew in this time period, maybe your comparison was way off.

To be appropriate of the walking arrangement, you decide not to walk behind him, because you fear you might lose sight of him and get lost in the insanely large property he owned. You also do not decide to walk ahead because you weren’t racing each other anymore. So you decide to walk right next to him - but not too far because you decide that he is not the plague, and not too close because you knew you’d be getting goosebumps from your nerves.

Not you nor Jaehyun have any talent at walking in a perfectly straight line, that is, if only the ground was perfectly level. But each time you find yourself trying to avoid him in distance, his feet bring him a step sideways closer to you.

“I understand we’ve always had a difficulty getting along, but before we go back and act the way we do around everybody else—“ You shoot him this look of anticipation. “I want to say that this time has been enjoyable, and I very much prefer that we stay this way.”

It’s an awkward, somehow still stoic, attempt. Although you think you have to cut the man some slack. You did treat him very harshly for the past week, but to be fair he was too.

“That we can agree on.” You laugh just a little bit, just to lift the mood.

Before you can even shift from one expression to the other, he interrupts. “Would you accompany me to the count’s soiree tomorrow evening?”

To you, it was difficult to seem oblivious to his invitation. But of course you know what this is, it’s the letter you’ve had in the skirt pocket of your dress ever since you changed into it this morning. The opened letter has been something you’ve been contemplating about since the night you decided to open the letter from Count Moon Taeil. It was an invitation to a ball he was throwing tomorrow evening, and it was addressed to have been sent two days prior. Although the decaying paper and no signs of anybody entering your work room would like to tell you otherwise. The thing was, you weren’t dumb enough not to pin all the signs in together; how could it have been possible for an invitation to a ball happening tomorrow night be sitting in your (untouched) workspace for (maybe more than) four months when it was supposedly made two days ago?

Something about it was not right, but so was the entire situation you were in anyway.

“Soiree?” You ask, trying to fake knowledge, but you are near the gardens now so you did not have to worry about giving Jaehyun a concrete answer because you could keep on playing dumb until you deliberately ignore him. It could be that you wanted to tell him yes, but you had to remind yourself that you probably weren’t here to fall in love. You were trying to get to the bottom of something.

“Your cousin,” he says and you want to choke on your spit, “your cousin is throwing the ball.” He explains. No way in hell would it be a coincidence that your cousin in this life was a man named Moon Taeil.

“My cousin?—“ You look around the garden to notice that despite the still good weather, there was nobody lounging around in the grass anymore. “Where did they all go?” You ask Jaehyun who only looks as dumbfounded as you were.

“There’s smoke coming from inside the house!” He points and sprints toward the entrance of the manor, you following right behind him.

The inside looks as if there was a cloud of mist settling in, and based on the thickness of the smoke it was easier to locate where the origin was but it was harder to see and breathe when it felt like it was burning at your airways.

“Stay back.” He tells you before the smoke made it harder for him to even utter a word, but you shake your head no because you can hear the echoes of footsteps and some demanding shouts. Everybody must have run inside.

The next few minutes come as a blur to you: just trying to follow Jaehyun with your teary eyes, maneuvering through this large monstrosity of a mansion. But then the smoke clears up a bit, and you can see Yuta and Donghyuck there accompanied by the other male help of the manor with their sleeves drenched and disappointed looks on their face. The Yang sisters and the maids are only lined up nearby, fearful at the sight.

It was your bedroom, or whatever was left of it. All charred, just a few skeletons of the dresser and the four post bed. You could say that you did not mind it; your attachments weren’t built up to high for you to care about a burnt room. The clothes were the least of your problems, and you thanked god that you kept both letters inside the dress you were currently wearing.

“We tried to save it,” Yuta tries to explain and Donghyuck adds, “but it was too big of a fire, too fast.”

Jaehyun is not angry, nor is he surprised, but he looks intently at the damage caused by the fire to your room and he speaks to you in front of everybody else. “It is still not safe for you here.”

~

Tossing and turning in your bed for what seemed like hours upon end was really bothering you. Although you did make sure to trie yourself out in your workspace during the day, even if your body was tired, you could not find rest. This was a regular occurrence you experienced, never getting a good night’s rest even though you tried all the natural ways to be fatigued.

You relayed this concern to one of your favorite guests of the house - lady Alice, who was shockingly a cousin of the Yang sisters. Lady Alice never frequented the manor as much as Eleanor or Catherine, but she was one of the few people you found comfort in aside from Yuta and Donghyuck. She strikingly contrasted her cousins in that sense, as you always found a difficulty establishing friendships with other women. Alice had no such complex, always kind and always willing to listen. Never treating you as if you were any higher and any lower than her. An added bonus was how beautiful she was: if femininity personified, then it was definitely her.

“All the way from the other side of the world.” She notes, as she quickly passes the dried tea leaves through a flame in the kitchen as the two of you conversed - this was the afternoon prior.

“I don’t know if you’re trying to tell me that this is effective to put me into slumber because it hails from worlds away.” You laugh, lifting up the special tea sets that only were allowed to be used if Alice was visiting. Among all the Yang ladies who were your age, you heard that she was the closest to Jaehyun.

“I would say so, but you would accuse me of bragging.” She jokes.

“But you do.” You agree and you both laugh.

When the laughter dies down she begins to reminisce. “Oh, to celebrate friendship. I never get to spend much time with Jaehyun these days.”

You stiffen at this, knowing that you always had to constantly lie to Alice - she always regarded Jaehyun in a good light. Like all the other people in this house that you had close relations with, like Yuta and Donghyuck, you knew you could never impose upon their great connection with Jaehyun. It was a great reminder that you always were going to feel like an outsider looking in.

But to you, it seemed, that Jaehyun treated Alice differently. You did not know if it was because she was the only female you’d seen him interact so closely with - although you thought that this metric was pretty unfair to begin with. You did not know if it was because she knew way more about him than you did, and him to her. You did not know if it was because you were a little bit jealous, but who were you to be?

Jeong Jaehyun was not yours, you were not his. You shouldn’t care even through all the intimate moments you’ve seen them: having earlier breakfasts with each other, goofing around in the hallways, her teaching him how to sew. It really shouldn’t have mattered whatever he was doing with whoever it was, but you had to think about how Alice Yang wasn’t just a ‘whoever.’ She was Alice Yang, and because she was so insanely nice you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad let alone annoyed by her.

A hiccup emerges from your throat, and it is because you are nervous. “I’m sure it’s because he is busy in the mines,” you explain to her and she intently listens, “an accident occurred a few days before you arrived and they had to stop operations for a while.”

“I see, you haven’t seen him for a while either have you?” She asks, and you have to nod. The thing was, Alice wasn’t just oblivious to the façade you and Jaehyun had regarding your relationship - but she was also oblivious to the reason as to why you and Jaehyun were ever engaged in the first place. So this meant that she always had this idea that your engagement to her childhood friend was never out of duty or investment, she always had the idea that it was out of love. In fact, only Yuta, Donghyuck, and Jaehyun knew of your educational practices on engineering; you hailed from the Capital (from a rich family, at that) - which in turn meant that people from the countryside did not have to know you in depth, it was enough that you were a proper lady from the Capital for them to believe that you were good enough to marry high ranking people. This of course, was another agreement you had with Jaehyun.

You smile and fake a laugh, “I’m afraid not, but it’s absolutely fine. He always leaves me with good company.” Another lie, as much as you liked her and the other lot, you always felt so unsafe.

She only agrees and takes it as a compliment, Alice does not pay attention with what she is doing— and she scalds herself when she does not realize that she exposed her own hand to the flame.

That night, the untouched tea seemed to be looking at you. And you cannot help but consume the whole thing in one sitting; desperate for even a wink of sleep.

It is successful for a while, until you are caught by visions of a nightmare. Swallowed alive by some darkness you cannot explain, but you see all these different familiar faces cross through your sight.

You end up getting out of bed, a mess of tears, running around in the dark in the middle of the night. It is really, really dark, but you know your way out.

Jaehyun comes from the foyer, wandering in the dark out of his own frustrations about the mines. Footsteps are the last thing he expects, and from you none the less.

When you crash into his chest, heaving in broken breaths with none but your bare feet and your night dress, he knows it is you. Normally, this encounter would not sit well with him - like all other encounters you did have - but you were in pain, terrible pain. Jaehyun instead allows you to cry, and heave, and he becomes willing to shoulder your pain even if he doesn’t know what it is. Because he is in pain too, and this is enough comfort to bang its way into his chest without knowing.

He thinks for a while after he sets you quietly into his bed, that the sight of the blood from your nose - and your inability to be calm, causing you to be unconscious in the foyer - frightens him. But he knew the worst should have been expected, because this place was not safe for you. It never has.

Jaehyun quietly carries you into your own room before anybody else can wake, advantageous to his early leave to go to the mines as well. And you have absolutely no clue of this, nor does anybody else.

~

Headaches are the last thing you ever wanted to get, but fainting? Fainting was completely out the question. But here you were, hailing victim to it.

“You’re awake.” Jaehyun notes, even as your blurry vision still tries to adjust to the dim lights of the room. Not your room, you note. The bed you are tucked in to is much larger, everything about this room feels more spacious. After Jaehyun muttered those last words to you when you discovered your room in that state, you fainted. He had to catch you immediately. Paranoid, he opted to bring you into his own quarters - not trusting anyone else but himself to watch over you.

“I could go back to sleep if that’s a problem.” You try to joke even if the nape of your neck was practically drilling onto your shoulders.

Jaehyun doesn’t understand sarcasm very well, and it shows.

“It isn’t!— God please, have a drink or tell me how you’re feeling; you almost fell through the collection of armory displayed outside your room when you fell earlier and I was convinced you were going to die.” He sounds defensive, but it’s only because he doesn’t know that you’re joking.

So you take a crack at it anyway, “That’s not something you want?” He only looks at you expectingly, like he does not know where the question leads. “For me to die?” You press and he looks even more alarmed.

“I’ll be damned if you think I’m that terrible of a man.” His eyes are wide, he prefers not to believe what you are saying.

“Are you not?”

“You should know how I did not ever get a proper night’s sleep when you were gone. I don’t think I’m that terrible, at least to you.” He fiddles with his thumbs behind his back, but you cannot see them.

The abrupt confession startles you, and you cannot assume that it is anything far from the truth. “Oh.” You still look around, and notice how he is still awkwardly standing by the side of the bed. “Where am I?”

“In my quarters.” He says like it is nothing.

But you shoot up to try and get yourself out of bed as quickly as you humanly can. It was probably uncomfortable for him, and even more so now for you. He cannot stop you with the verbal warnings he gives, even his hands trying to awkwardly apprehend you from moving even more.

“I shouldn’t be rude,” you look down at the floor, “I should sleep elsewhere.” You suggest, but Jaehyun is not having it.

“And where else can you sleep?” He wonders, alluding to what had just happened - your room literally caught on fire.

“Anywhere. Anywhere! Surely there are many different... uh, surfaces I can find slumber on; you have many furniture in this place.” In an unsure attempt at reasoning it out, you never have sounded so dumb.

He tilts his head to the side, and you swear the slightest view of his neck is getting you even more flustered than you already are. “Do you not regard your own safety?”

“I do,” your eyes playfully wander around when they really shouldn’t be in a situation like this, and it brings a sigh to Jaehyun’s lips, “but I don’t want to intrude you, that is the last thing I want.”

“Surely you think it is discomforting in my presence, let alone this room, but I’ve told you that your safety is compromised. I do not wish to let you loose, or well at least not away from my sight.”

“It was only a fire, how bad can it be?” You try to play it off, but he is not having it.

Jaehyun is not one to shy away and use his authority, and at the moment he knows you will not want to lose. “When I say it is unsafe, I mean it is unsafe. Stay here.”

“Where does that leave you to stay?” You look around, only noticing a large chair and the bed, “I won’t think it is fair for you to take the chair, that is since you wish to keep me in your sight. I’ll take the chair instead.”

“No, you have to take rest in bed.” He says.

“Then you’re willing to share the bed with me?” God save your mouth. His throat is dry, and his mind runs through all the different implications of what you just said. You realize this too when you notice how he cannot respond, damned conservative times. “Holy shit.” You murmur to yourself, and Jaehyun doesn’t even have it in himself to try and comprehend that phrase. Holy? Shit? What would be so holy about shit?

He still doesn’t respond, leaving you the floor to speak. “Surely you know this means that we’re just going to share a bed.”

“Share a bed?” The idea is rather controversial.

“Lay parallel in this, mattress. Yes, mattress. We aren’t going to do anything terrible. Just two people sharing a bed.” You make awkward hand motions.

“We aren’t even wed.” He reminds you, but your body deflates as you sigh.

“Let us think progressively about this: you are a man, a tired man - I am a very tired woman. You claim to not want me out of your sight, so you leave me no choice but this bed because you do not want me to take the chair - I do not want you to take the chair either because that is terrible for your posture. We are not going to do anything, no funny business at all. Just a tired man and a tired woman with no choice but to share a bed.”

He nods, and you want to give up but the idea is foreign to him you have to ultimately be patient. “If you put it that way.” He says anyway.

“We can even even keep it a secret.” You suggest with a hopeful smile.

Unfortunately, he is not the kind to be easily convinced. “Secrets aren’t binding.” Or he thinks, not this one in particular.

“Then I tell you what, we can always make a blood pact if it scares you that much.” It’s a joke, but he looks as if he is deeply considering it. Before he verbatim says yes, you stop him midway. “Heaven’s no!”

“What do you propose then?”

It is probably dumb, but you know he doesn’t know what it is. So you make a fist and let your pinky finger stretch. “This thing I’m going to teach you is the most sacred action that cements agreements.” You warn him, looking straight into his eyes. Thankfully this time, you held it in yourself to not burst.

Realistically, a grown man should not have flinched from the sight of a pinky - but Jaehyun did. Movie awards would beg to capitalize on your newfound talent of keeping a straight face, or in this case the town should gift you a horse. “What is that?”

Beckoning him to do the same, you instruct. “It’s called a pinky swear, you take the same finger and wrap it around mine. And you have to promise upon this secret with your life.” He does not understand, but he is open to. There are no suggestions from his side and believing you was the next best thing.

When Jaehyun wraps his pinky finger around yours, he finds it absolutely adorable how your finger is puny compared to his own.

Before he puts out the last candle, you fluff the large pillow behind you. Settling into bed he can’t help but wonder why only now was it easeful with you. He blows the candle once he feels that you are settled beneath the sheets, both your limbs nervously still at the proximity of your bodies. Jaehyun feels like a child, an unexplainable warmth in comfort.

Then he remembers all the terrible things he has put you through, this whole manor.

-

There is tension in the dining hall the next morning. Not a single soul wants to point it out though, and you all were left with the clinking sounds of cutlery hitting the fine china. Yuta was standing behind Donghyuck - who was sitting next to you and Jaehyun - trying his best not to make it obvious that the two of them were excited to see you and his older master seated so near. They were even up all night playing cards and making up conspiracies about where you had slept. But none of the house staff nor Donghyuck were stupid; they knew you were sleeping in the lord’s quarters.

“The count’s ball tonight, will it be grand?” Donghyuck asks you specifically, but Jaehyun intervenes.

“What else do you expect from count Taeil? The last time we attended one of his soirées, he almost blew up his roof with the fireworks he had shipped from China.”

“You two are close,” Catherine speaks from her side of the table referring to you and this count Taeil, “why aren’t you as exciting?”

“I can blow fireworks up your ass if you ask nicely.” You suggest, and once again they’re taken aback by your foul choice of words but you eat your eggs in delight. Humor was something you weren’t going to be giving up any time soon. Jaehyun and Donghyuck both want to laugh anyway.  

“Tragedy, you aren’t going to be wearing anything tonight.” Eleanor comments, and you are all reminded that your room was set on fire.

“Worrying won’t be necessary, miss Y/N. The maids always have clothes sewn especially for you.” Yuta tells you, and you are fairly flattered by how much they like you.

A guard enters the dining hall in a hurry, but bows in respect to all the people who are there. The man goes straight to speak quietly into Jaehyun’s ear, and everybody seems alarmed; thinking that there was another emergency. The lord of the house seemed a little confused for a split second, until he regains his composure and finishes his breakfast. To all the other people in the room, it didn’t seem bothering how Jaehyun acted - but you could feel the change in demeanor. Once again, he felt unfamiliar to you.

Jaehyun does not tell anybody what the matter was after the guard had left, only that everybody was to be at the foyer right after breakfast.

While playing with balancing your on one foot and the other, you all silently wait. Staring at the door in complete silence in an odd yet arranged position.

There is no lag time, but lady Alice enters the doors along with the guards. Finally seeing her in the flesh, she looks even more beautiful than she did in your memory.

Even through everyone’s happy smiles at her arrival, your eyes dart to Jaehyun.

From what you gather, he does not smile— but there is a softness to his eyes that hurts you. He looks at her so gently, and you know that it means something. Its longing has to mean something.

-

The carriage ride is long, or it feels long because you are using a carriage. Probably feels far because you are a little dispirited; you thought going to this ball would mean you would also be sharing the same ride with Jaehyun - but as it turns out he and the Yang ladies were going to be sharing Alice’s carriage. They even left a little ahead of you. As it turns out, lady Alice’s presence made it clear who Jaehyun’s favorite was. You weren’t asking him to choose but you felt like the abandoned child, making up excuses to call it anything else but jealousy. Jealousy sounded possessive and desperate, you were neither.

It was a little more comfortable, you had to admit, to have Donghyuck and Yuta as company in your carriage. Yuta had deep privilege despite his house status, coming along to be introduced as a close family friend (like apparently, how he always did in other parties the brothers attended.)

“Are you excited to see your cousin?” Yuta asks you, but since Donghyuck was there you knew what the underlying implications of the question were.

“Yes, a little curious to see what has changed.” To Yuta it seemed like a good way to insert your answer, because to him he knows that you do not remember a cousin. But to you, you were half hoping that this was the same Taeil you were living with some two hundred years from now.

“It hasn’t been that long, I’m sure there isn’t anything different.” Donghyuck suggests, and you appreciate his words. He could might as well be considered as an adult, but there was still a charm of innocence to his age.

At this point, you arrive to your destination, and you can see all the people lined up to enter. Finally, some noise - chatter you could never hear in the big echoing walls of the manor. There was comfort in the noise, even the rage of horses’ feet plowing through the ground. Yuta opens the door, and once the stationed guards see you— you are led away from the long lines to the entrance; they knew you were the count’s cousin and you were getting the easier way in through the helps’ chambers. The shortcut isn’t absolutely terrible, but you feel as though you are passing through guts. This manor was frighteningly large too. Before you could get too caught up on the decor (that spoke ‘Taeil’ to you, in big fat bold statues), you could hear the loud music. Live music, the playful strings and keys, the chatter. The three of you stand in a quiet corner, unnoticed by the crowd.

Jaehyun, who is standing with Alice and another tall fellow, spots you and makes his way to approach you. Right as you see this, you turn your head to Donghyuck, to mask the fact that you already established eye contact with Jaehyun. Remembering the unfinished conversation you had in the carriage, you tell the younger lord, “The most outrageous people tend to change a lot, but it makes them perfectly wonderful.”

Jaehyun hears this, and he cannot help but smile at the kind of discourse you were having with his brother. A very rare occurrence based on the past.

Donghyuck responds, “then I must say that you are very much like your cousin: outrageous.” He sees that his older brother is there, waiting for you to notice him, so he pokes at your arm.

Slowly facing Jaehyun, when he catches just the slightest glimpse of you his breath his caught in his throat. Sure, you have gone to countless parties before, and he has seen you dress up. Although he cannot say that he’s seen you wear yourself like this— with confidence. He offers a hand to you, “may I ask the lady to come with me?” You are not inclined to say no, not with the way he stares at you. So you do a bow as elegantly as possible and you take his hand. What Jaehyun doesn’t know, is that you went through a phase where you watched a lot of really good makeup tutorials on Youtube - and  with the stuck knowledge you had left, you made do with the ancient cosmetic powders the maids gave you.

“You are quite the sight.” He tells you, and honestly you could say that you are quite annoyed at him. Even if you had to keep up appearances, you aren’t sure just how easily you were to forgive him for blowing you off like that.

“What am I but novelty to the nobility in this room?” You look around, and you can hear the whispers and the eyes darting. All the pretty jewels adorning colors of blue, green, and red - women’s gowns so bright compared to your own black. This was a rare occurrence to everybody, and almost all the upper class were here to see you and Jaehyun hand-in-hand. Everyone knew you were engaged, but none of them bat an eyelash before; you never looked the part. Never looking in love, but now you did.

It is like water parting to make way for you to cross the sea when people move to the sides for you and Jaehyun, Alice and the tall man wait for you - and they both welcome you with a smile.

“Lady Y/N, I don’t think the world has ever seen you like this.” The tall one speaks, and you a nervous because you have no idea how to address him as.

“Does that mean that I looked absolutely horrid before?” You pretend it’s an insult, so none of them have a word to say but you laugh. They all still nervously stand there, “rich people have no sense of humor. There was no offense taken there.”

But the tall one finally catches on to your joke, “gosh Jaehyun, you allow her to some privy school and suddenly she turns feral. Maybe I should do the same when I’m engaged; the women around here are boring.” He comments as he takes a sip of his drink, Jaehyun can only hold up a tilt of the lips as a smile - but he looks at you attentively. You really are the center of attention this evening, and he knows.

“Oh Johnny, maybe you forget Y/N is a lady of the Capital. There always much complex creatures.” Alice swoops in to your defense.

Johnny, finally a name.

“I’m no animal, no. I haven’t ever felt like such a spectacle; there’s no need to make one of me.” Johnny takes your hand to kiss it, missing the proper greeting earlier because of your rebuttal.

“Would you care to dance then?” Johnny offers and you nod as he takes your hand he looks at Jaehyun who is unamused very much to your dismay, “you wouldn’t mind right, cousin?” Who were you to assume that Jaehyun would feel any jealousy at the slightest? He just nods his head in permission, and you wonder if he brought you along to get some alone time with Alice. You wanted to blow steam off of the top of your head; there were just so many damned cousins!

The dance is not at all intimidating; you think it is easy enough to follow because the music is slow. But you take precautionary measures to not gain any suspicion, “don’t mind my inability to dance well, I haven’y done this in some time.” You apologize but he brushes it off, the tall creature.

He lowers his head down to whisper something in your ear. “You have to excuse my cousin Jaehyun,” he says and your eyes trace back to the man in question who is looking at the two of you dance instead of paying attention to Alice who is speaking to him, “I’ve always played on your team and I want to shove some sense into his mind.”

“He’s a very sensible man, I don’t know what you mean.” You answer, spinning around.

“But it’s always Alice he is willing to go out of his way for,” he spins you around again to look at Jaehyun - and this time he’s laughing with her, “a good man would know if he should be happy with whom he has.”

“I will not dictate his happiness, it is not my job.”

“But he does your’s, and that isn’t quite right is it?”

You stop for a moment with a stern voice, “what is it you’re trying to say?”

Silence interrupts the room, the grand doors open signaling the most important person of the night. Just when you’ve almost had enough, Moon Taeil steps into the room. Everyone bows to him and after he slowly makes an entrance from the door to the other end of the room, the music begins to play again.

It doesn’t take any longer than a minute for you and Johnny to exchange confused looks at each other; here he was hoping you perfectly understood what he meant, although you could not reciprocate the same energy. You were then disturbed by a slight tap on the shoulder, and Johnny already bowed away to the stranger in respect - walking away.

It is Moon Taeil, or perhaps the ‘count’ counterpart of him. Taeil does not utter a single word, but only beckons you to dance with the motion of his arms. Fucking bastard, you think. Even in these times he lived without thought.

You sway to the music, the two of you clad in dark clothing. The first dance of the host of the party with his cousin: the lady from the Capital who was rumored to have come home from boarding school. Everyone, Jaehyun not even an exception, was carefully looking. Nobody else had the right to the dance floor.

“What the hell is this, Taeil?” You whisper between your teeth, clenched in a plastic smile. If he were the cousin you knew, he would respond perfectly to your question, and if not he wouldn’t even comprehend the expression you chose.

“Be a little more quiet, everybody’s staring.” He says in the same manner, and when you pause to do a step he speaks again. “Smile.”

But when three other couples join in the floor, you think it is the perfect time to insert your own thoughts. “What does this all mean?”

He keeps the look on his face so perfectly. “Not now.”

“What you aren’t going to admit that it’s you? I have the letter you sent, rotting for four months! It’s impossible.” Even through your frustration, he does not budge. “You just can’t also be my cousin in this life, everything adds up.” He sneakily shakes his head so that nobody would notice.

You aren’t wasting anymore time, so as both your arms raise up - you notice the burn mark on his wrist. The same one he got when you two were attempting to make grilled cheese in the panini press. It couldn’t be from anywhere else, you knew that well.

“Aha!” You say silently, but you know you’ve caught him.

“Surprise?” He has the audacity to joke, although maybe you miss the familiarity and the humor - and he ultimately admits that it is him. “Fancy seeing you here... Way way beyond the actual timeline of time.”

“I’m gonna fucking kick your ass, Taeil.”

end of third part.

next: fourth part.

#jaehyun scenario #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jung yoonoh #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fake texts #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun imagines #nct imagine #nct fanfic #nct fic #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #jaehyun smut

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Future Stories/Fanfics!

Hiya! I’m new to the whole Tumblr Author scene so please bear with me and be patient! Below is a list of fandoms and characters I write for, as well as themes. I hope to create both original stories and fanfics soon; I also don’t take requests at the moment either! I want to pump out a few stories before I take on requests, and with the few stories I write I’ll finally make a masterlist so you all can stay updated with series or one-shots for fandoms/characters that you love <3 

Here are some fandoms I will write fanfics for:

- Marvel

- Supernatural

- The Walking Dead

- Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

- Dead by Daylight

- Halloween

- Friday the 13th

- Predator/Yautja

- Aliens/Xenomorphs

- Days Gone

- Far Cry 5

- Knives Out

- Assassin’s Creed

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8)

- Call of Duty (Modern Warfare, Ghosts & WWII)

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV)

- Detroit: Become Human

- Legend of Zelda

- Horizon: Zero Dawn

- Prey

- Overwatch

- The Witcher

- Until Dawn

- Evolve 

- Dragon Age

- Stranger Things

Characters I Write For:

- Marvel: Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Pietro, Wanda, Tony, Peter Parker, Thor, Loki, Ultron, Venom

- Supernatural: Sam, Dean

- The Walking Dead: Daryl, Rick, Carl, Glenn, Maggie, Negan, Jesus

- LOTR/Hobbit: Thorin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Dwalin, Thranduil, Azog, Elrond, Bard,  Legolas, Aragorn, Frofo, Samwise, Pippin, Merry, Boromir

- Dead by Daylight: Trapper, Wraith, Michael, Huntress, Legion, Ghost Face, Demogorgon, Oni

- Halloween: Michael Myers

- Friday the 13th: Jason Voorhees 

- Predators: Yautja, Ultimate Yautja

- Aliens: Xenomorph

- Days Gone: Deacon, Boozer

- Far Cry 5: Jacob, Joseph, John, Faith, Staci, Eli, Junior Deputy

- Knives Out: Ransom Drysdale 

- Assassin’s Creed: Altair, Malik, Ezio, Connor, Edward, Arno, Kassandra, Alexios, Evie, Jacob, Eivor

- Resident Evil (2, 3 & 8): Leon, Mr X, Jill, Carlos, Nemesis, Karl Heisenberg

- Call of Duty (MW, Ghosts & WWII): Price, MacTavish, Ghost, Roach, Nikolai, Yuri, Zussman, Logan Walker

- Final Fantasy (VII, XIII, XIII-2 & XV): Cloud, Zack, Tifa, Sephiroth, Vincent, Lightning, Hope, Snow, Fang, Vanille, Yuj, Maqui, Noel, Caius

- Detroit: Become Human: Connor, Markus, Kara, Hank, Daniel, Gavin, Luther

- Legend of Zelda: Link, Sidon, Ganon

- Horizon: Zero Dawn: Aloy, Erend, Varl, Avad, Teb

- Prey: Typhon, Phantom, Mimic, Nightmare, Poltergeist, Technopath

- Overwatch: McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Hanzo, Reinhardt, Tracer, Widowmaker, Sombre, Mercy, Junkrat, Genji, Baptiste, Orisa, Zarya

- Witcher: Geralt, Ciri, Jaskier

- Until Dawn: Josh, Sam, Mike, Chris, Wendigo

- Evolve: Goliath, Wraith, Kraken, Behemoth, Gorgon

- Dragon Age: Solas, Varric, Iron Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera, Cullen, Hawke, Cole, Vivienne

- Stranger Things: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Jim Hopper

What I write:

- Series

- One-shots

- Fluff

- Angst

- Smut

- Romance

- Slow Burns

- Enemies to Lovers/Enemies to Friends to Lovers

- Strangers to Lovers/Strangers to Friends to Lovers

- x Reader

- Original Female & Male Characters

- Polyamorous 

- Hurt/Comfort

- Dub-con/Non-con (stories with these will have warnings!!!)

- Kinks

- Monsters

- Aliens

- Robots

- AU’s

#fanfics #fandoms i write for #fandoms #lists #characters i write for #characters i love #AU's #list of fandoms #list of characters #stories #original stories #new author #au #new tumblr author #author

[gabriel4sam]

The weeping stone, a little crossover, the Mummy x Star Wars

 Beta-ed by @wrennette, a little fic The Mummy x Star Wars. 

Under the cut; the fic:

Our story started a long, long time ago and in a galaxy far away and never really ended. There was just a pause. A long pause. Eons passed.

And then it started again, just like that: 

Two men, alone and desperately human, fighting against abominations from the dawn of civilisation. Monsters with a taste for human flesh. One favoured his left side. They made their last stand at the forgotten temple of a forgotten goddess, erased from human memory with great care by Ptolemy III Euergetes, his mages and what would become the Medjai, more than two centuries before the modern era. A forgotten goddess now trying to make a comeback heralded in blood, famine, and other happy events.

Those men should have never left the scene, or only in very, very, very tiny bits.

Sadly for the beasts, that sort of situation had become terrifyingly normal for Jonathan and Ardeth.

Not everybody can have exotic dancers as a bad habit, like most of Jonathan’s Oxford friends.

With a yell like a woodsman putting the last axe wound in a giant tree, Ardeth cut in two the latest giant crocodile with two heads. The left head, apparently not the quickest to apprehend new circumstances, continued to flail a moment. Ardeth watched it carefully, with an air clearly meaning: Try it, if you dare.

Since no one glared like Ardeth, the left head wisely died, instead of incurring his wrath again.

“These things definitely don't conform to the traditional representation,” Jonathan remarked, with the blasé attitude of a man who had become sadly used to giant animals with too many heads, resurrected priests and other fun ways to pass the time in the charming country of Egypt. If he didn’t go bankrupt every time he put a foot on the soil of the Mother country, he would have refused to leave England. There, dead things stayed dead and even if Arthur had risen, Jonathan was sure the lad would have been much more amiable than Imhotep.

Perhaps it was a question of the soil temperature…. Would dead English sovereigns rise if transplanted in Egypt? Or Scottish ones? The Scottish ones seemed more fun.

“Carnahan, stop dreaming and come help,” Ardeth ordered and Jonathan thought of protesting. Harvesting hearts of two-headed magical creatures was gory and smelly. Even if it was to stop a giant wave of drought which would devastate Egypt and probably cause a lot of deaths. But Jonathan had seen enough death during the Great War; deaths he could never forget, no matter what new horrors Evy and her brand new husband Rick, and Ardeth, half friend half pain in the ass in Jonathan’s opinion, discovered every day.

“Life was so much simpler without the supernatural,” Jonathan grumbled, but it was weak and he went to help. The sooner they had the hearts, the quicker they could leave, and supposing Evy and Rick had successfully harvested the brains of their own two-headed monsters, they could stop the drought, leave their third lost temple this year and go back to Jonathan favourite way to pass life: searching for a way to earn money.

Preferably without the dead rising, for once.

They stayed with the Medjai for the night, since it would have been pretty stupid to try returning to the city after dark. The night was beautiful, all stars and an enormous moon and Jonathan was finding himself quite enamoured with life. His sister and her husband disappeared into their tent and he hoped they remembered they were not alone and currently surrounded only by cloth.

The Medjai were extremely pleasant hosts, even Ardeth for all his glaring, and whatever the pastries and strange herbal tea they were distributing were almost making Jonathan not care they didn’t drink alcohol… or that Ardeth took Jonathan’s secret stash at the beginning of their current adventure to prepare a makeshift bomb.

Against a giant Mesopotamian…thing, because evidently the local monsters and undead weren’t enough. Some had apparently been imported too.

Jonathan let himself fall into the nest of covers loaned to him for the night. He was sore, but not too bruised, and the satisfaction of saving people had an edge even a cynic like him couldn’t deny.

“You know, the only thing missing is gallant company. Not that yours isn’t charming, old chap, but nothing beat a scandalously clothed lady. With the bosom, you know,” Jonathan said, gesticulating to illustrate.

Ardeth grunted and didn’t answer.

“But perhaps there is a Mrs. Bey in one of the tents? Or several? Are your people polygamists? Because that’s something I could get behind. Never too much of a good thing, you know, even if I always asked myself how it worked. I mean, some men must go without riches for other to have more? Very capitalistic and –“

“Carnahan, stop babbling. And no, there isn’t a Mrs. Bey, as you say. And if there was, you would be literally the last person in this country I would introduce to her.”

“Rude!”

“Sleep, Jonathan. We leave at dawn and I don’t enjoy having to throw water at you to force you to rise.”

“No need to grumble. Also, you totally enjoy it! And I’m sure you’ll find the perfect Mrs. Bey one day and sweep her off her feet. Very heroically, probably. There will be fireworks, old chap! ”

“Thanks, I suppose. But this isn’t…. My friend, there is-“

A snore interrupted him.

Ardeth turned to the side. Jonathan Carnahan had succumbed to the exhaustion of the day. Ardeth snorted, amused despite himself, and happy his confidences to his grating, but strangely attaching, friend had been stopped just in the nick of time. Some words couldn’t be unsaid. And he liked the Carnahan and O’Connell trio, despite their habit of stumbling exactly where they shouldn’t. He went on his last stroll around the camp, saluting the sentinels, as was his habit before sleep, and didn’t think any more of this conversation. Sadly, the sudden interest of Jonathan about his love life distracted him enough – should he tell him the truth or not, the English could be very strange about that – that he forgot for a moment a bad habit of Jonathan, where he pickpocketed everything shiny like an overgrown Oxford-educated magpie, and didn’t go through his pockets like he ought to after one of their expeditions.

Therefore, Ardeth missed the amulet in Jonathan’s vest, found in the temple of the day. And he missed the crystal, strange, shining, definitely nothing he had seen before, embedded in it.

***************************************

A woman was leaning down over Jonathan. She wore the strangest headdress he had ever seen, with two long tails of bizarre material, blue and white, and it was also crowning her, giving her a royal air, despite the blood running down her face. There was something slightly wrong about her face, like the proportions were slightly different from what they should normally be in a human.

“I’m sorry,” she was saying. “I’m sorry, Master, this is the only way to be sure he doesn’t get you too. Someone will come find you. The Alliance has our coordinates, they will find you.”

An older man stepped up behind her and he was bleeding too, the left part of his face a terrible wound, which had taken one of his eyes. The blood congealed on his beard and he used the wall to stay upright. The still intact eye shined with determination despite the probably terrible pain.

“Ahsoka, there isn’t time left,” he said and something sharp came to mask the despair on the woman’s face.

“I know,” she said. She took something from around her neck and it was the strange crystal in the amulet Jonathan had found. She leaned down and placed it on Jonathan.“Anakin’s crystal,” she said. “May you use it more wisely than him.”

She pushed a metal cover over Jonathan and it seemed so much like the lid of a sarcophagus. Jonathan wanted to yell for help but he was paralyzed. The last thing he saw was the woman turning, two swords of white flame in her hands, then whatever he was lying on went far away. There was an acceleration, like a plane taking off, and Jonathan knew nothing but the cold light of stars.

***************************************

Jonathan woke up shivering, his mouth already open to cry out. Ardeth was on the other side of the campfire, getting it going again for the morning tea.

“First time I've seen you up without help,” Ardeth smiled, but his smile died when he got a better look at the other man’s face.

“Jonathan?”

“Just…just a nightmare.”

Ardeth wisely nodded. Even he, who had been trained all his life to protect humanity from what was laying underneath the sands of Egypt and the neighbouring countries, would sometimes be visited in his dreams by the horrors he was regularly exposed to.

In silence, Ardeth offered his water skin for Jonathan to rinse the bilious taste of nightmares from his mouth.

***************************************

The woman was there again. The one with the strange headdress going down on either side of her head. The headdress was smaller and the tattoos on her face smaller too, like they hadn’t been finished. She was silently watching the cold coffin Jonathan was in, agony on her face.

“Oh Master,” she only said. “If only you were there… Really there. More than ever, I need your help.”

A man entered the room. He had brown skin, brown hair too long for even Cambridge and smart eyes.

“The Ghost is leaving in ten minutes, we can’t afford more.”

“I’m ready, tell Hera I will be on board.” The woman with the headdress said. Jonathan wanted to yell at her to take him with her, that he wanted to help, that it was his responsibility to help, but his mouth was cold and his tongue dead inside it, like a block of ice.

***************************************

 “Don’t you think your brother is…you know?” Rick asked one morning and Evelyn’s eyes left the reproduction of a Nekhen tomb painting she was admiring, realized she was about to put marmalade in her tea, took her glasses off and turned to her husband. Rick hadn’t put his shirt on yet, a fact she deeply appreciated.

“There are many answers to that question and some of them are about secrets I swore to take to my tomb when we were teenagers, so I will need you to elaborate, darling.”

“Don’t you think your brother is strange?”

“Did he try to convince you to invest in a bar in Casablanca again?”

“If I was trying to start a business with him, I would be the strange one. No, I mean, don’t you think he’s stranger than usual?”

As one, they turned to the patio of the decrepit house they were renting in Damietta.

It was eight in the morning and Jonathan was up.

That itself was strange.

Not that Jonathan couldn’t, in crisis time, wake early. But when they were still recuperating from their latest adventure, he liked to only get up at what he called “the crack of dawn,” meaning something like thirteen o'clock.

Eight in the morning, and he was awake, seeping tea slowly, and trying the meditation Ardeth had once tried to teach him, before pronouncing him totally inept. That itself was strange. The tears slowly flowing on his cheeks were making it unreal. 

Jonathan hadn’t shed a tear since coming back from the trenches of the Great War. What he had lived through there had used up all the tears for one life. After, there was only room for laughter,  sometimes slightly hysterical, alcohol, and women of ill repute, with the occasional supernatural menace.

“I think the last mission we accompanied Ardeth on was particularly difficult for him.”

“Nobody died!” Rick protested. “Nobody didn’t even almost died!”

“Dear God, we’re setting the bar quite low those last months….”

Rick turned again to Jonathan. At the beginning of his marriage to Evy, he had seen Jonathan more as an unfortunate consequence of Evelyn, someone to endure, until they had bonded with their experiences from the war. Some things they had shared with each other, they hadn’t even told Evy, the most important person in both their lives.

“I’m taking him for a drink tonight with my old  buddies from the Legion,” Rick decided. “Mano a mano.”

“That really doesn’t mean what you think it means,” Evelyn smiled and Rick couldn’t resist that smile, never had, and he swallowed an impromptu Latin lesson with a tender kiss, which lead to other things, and Evelyn quite late in her morning program for the study of the Nekhen tomb paintings.

 ***************************************************

There was a demon, more frightening than Imhotep himself. It was black, prowling in the shadows around Jonathan. The only thing Jonathan could perceive of it, a noise like lethal gas escaping its canister. The thing, the monster, the nightmare, carried a sword made of blood and at its feet lay the bodies of everyone Jonathan had ever loved.

Lost.

All of them were lost, because Jonathan had not been enough.

The despair should have a taste but Jonathan hadn’t tasted anything in years. There was just the cold, the after taste; spicy, of the last thing he had tasted, long ago, months ago, years ago, centuries ago, before laying down in his tomb, silent, vigilant witness of the end of everything and the rise of darkness.

****************************************************

Rick and Evelyn were waiting for him when he got back from his nightly walk. He had exchanged his usual nightly shenanigans in bars for slow walks across the landscape. By day, the sounds of so many people had become a torture and even at night, it was like Jonathan could feel them pressing around him. Only in the empty surroundings of Damietta could he find peace now, following the stars, which always seemed wrong to him, like they were in an incorrect configuration.

“Evy?” Jonathan asked, surprised, because they were always in bed when he came back.

“This is an intervention,” his sister said.

“Oh come on. I swear to you, I haven’t started using again. I know the effect of Forced Marche on me, I wouldn’t…"

“I know, darling,” Evy said with warmth, taking his hand in a gesture of comfort. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me, or to yourself again. But, you have been…you haven’t been yourself, those last weeks. At first, I confess I thought you were, how do I say it-“

“Hitting the bottle pretty hard,” Rick completed with no tact at all.

“But I remembered when you started to change and I called a specialist.”

There was a movement behind Jonathan and he turned and Ardeth was there, his face harder than Jonathan had seen in a long time. And in his hand, cradled like the simple contact was dangerous, was the amulet with the crystal Jonathan had found weeks ago, abandoned on the red sandstone altar in a temple of a forgotten goddess in Latopolis.

“That’s mine,” Jonathan yelled immediately, his hands raising to seize the jewel, but Rick’s arms were around his shoulders, as hard as steel.

“I failed you, my friend,” Ardeth said gravely.

“Ardeth, that’s mine!” Jonathan said again, already suffocating on tears, “That’s the only thing I have left!”

Another Medjai was there, one Jonathan didn’t know, and a foul-smelling cloth was across Jonathan's mouth, and he struggled, but Rick was stronger, and Ardeth was there too, helping Rick contain his thrashing, and the last thing he heard was Evelyn crying.

Beyond his eyelids, for a second, he would have sworn Evelyn’s silhouette was different, her belly round as the sun, and shining too, shining like a newborn star, but it made no sense and he lost himself to the dark of drugged sleep. 

********************************************************

The woman was there again. There was a man with her, blond hair, brown skin, a hand on her shoulder, comforting her as she put her two hands on the lid of Jonathan’s sarcophagus. Behind them, there was a man with darker skin and a dash of yellow across his nose and even if Jonathan had never seen him in his life, he wanted to beg him to take care of her, of her and the first man, the blond one, because if Jonathan himself couldn’t, this man with the yellow markings was almost him, brother, support, friend.

********************************************************

Jonathan woke up in a tent. Someone had tied his ankles together, not tight enough to stop him from walking, but tight enough to stop him from running. Ardeth was there, offering him a cup of tea, and even if Jonathan wanted to throw it to his face, his throat was parched. He accepted it.

“Was it poisoned?” Jonathan asked, voice hard with anger, once he had drunk everything.

“No, it wasn’t, and this is perhaps a question you should ask before accepting a drink.”

“Well, not like I can stop you, as the last hours demonstrated!”

“I understand you’re angry.”

“Well, you’re so brilliant to decipher emotion, if Medjai doesn’t work, perhaps you could become a disciple of Mister Freud.”

“We’re here to help you.”

“You have a strange way to show it,” Jonathan pointed out.

At that moment, the flap of the tent opened. Jonathan’s heart jumped in his chest. It was Evelyn and Rick and the sense of betrayal went higher. Ardeth was a friend, a good one, yes, but still only a friend. Rick and Evy were family. Family wasn’t supposed to betray each other. 

Ages old grief rose. Older than Jonathan, older than twice cursed Imothep, older than every temple in Egypt, and he choked on the wave of anguish. The infinite sadness was the only thing in his soul and it went higher, plugging his lungs, crushing his heart. On his cheeks tears started to flow again and he would have died of this pain, it was impossible to survive such sorrow.

Hands found his own. Darker hands with tattoos. Ardeth’s hands, scarred and dependable, hands which had saved Jonathan’s life countless times. 

A head was against his. Dark hair, the same as his, and their mother perfume, and the embrace of blood, a link he only had with Evey now, their English family dead and buried, but Evy, Evy was there, his beloved sister, and they had survived so much together, from their parents’ loss to the countless disappointments of life. 

Strong arms around his shoulder, his waist and the scent of that awful cologne. Rick. Rick, who made Evy happy, Rick who had seen the trenches too, Rick, the brother their parents didn’t have the time to give him.

Jonathan crashed into his body and into reality with all the grace of a drunk camel trying to run across a dune.

“What’s wrong with me!” He yelled, quite strongly, into poor Rick’s ears.

There was some fussing, a fortifying potion poured by Rick into Jonathan’s tea, despite Ardeth’s opinion that alcohol really wouldn’t help Jonathan, then they congregated around the fire with stew and explanations. Jonathan was famished. It was like he had survived only on tea and slow walks across the Egyptian landscapes for days.

“It was a very long time ago,” Ardeth explained. “During the Thinite Confederacy, before even the First Dynasty. One day a great fire fell from the sky into the desert. The tribes which formed the Confederacy sent an expedition to follow the trail of the fire and they found a great stone at the centre of a dune entirely crystallized, like an intense fire would have done. They brought back the stone to the city. Little by little, the members of the expedition who found it began to have visions. They could predict other tribes attack, they could sometimes know where a venomous snake was waiting in a bush, they knew where to go for good game in the hunts…”

“Seems like a pretty friendly stone,” Rick commented. “Very useful stuff.”

“But their new talents had a price,” Ardeth continued, like Rick hadn’t interrupted him. “The ones with the most talent, the ones who could sometimes heal wounds or ease a birth for example, were the most touched. They wept during feasts, they yelled into the night, they were taken apart by-“

“Sadness,” Jonathan said. “Infinite sadness.”

Ardeth nodded. Evelyn’s hand found her brother’s own hand and pressed on it.

“Most of them took their own life, at the end. A temple was built, coming from a vision one of the men touched by the stone had and the stone placed in the sanctuary. Once a year, young people were send to it to earn its wisdom.”

“That’s…that’s quite cold,” Evely shivered, “They were sacrificed. Fated to kill themselves or go crazy.”

“Yes, they were. Officially, they were designed by the oracles, but of course, most were chosen as a way for the most powerful to strike down their enemies.”

“Charming.”

“Some of them survived. They endured and went to become great souls, leading their people, or taking the places of advisors of the proto-kings. They said Menes, the founder of the first dynasty was one of them, that used what he learned from the stone to unify Egypt. They also said that the stone stopped talking to him because of the bloodshed, and that is why he was killed by a hippopotamus, because he had gotten too close to the beast, confident in a gift which had been taken back. They also said that Menes was the only one ever succeeding in opening the stone, and that he never said what was inside. Simply brought back that strange crystal in the amulet Jonathan stole.”

“Liberated, thank you very much,” Jonathan interrupted.

“All of this is fascinating,” Evelyn admitted. “But if we need the stone to help Jonathan…” Her brother was quite touched. For Evy, Evy! To interrupt Egyptian story time like that….

Ardeth nodded again.

“Yes, we need the stone and, praise Allah, I know where it is. The temple is in Thinis. Some said the weeping stone contributed to the abandonment of the city for Memphis as a capital.”

“Then we have a problem,” Evelyn realized. “Nobody has ever found Thinis.”

“The English haven’t,” Ardeth said with half a smirk and Evelyn made the same noise Rick made when he found a scorpion in their bathroom.

“We had this conversation before,” Rick immediately intervened, before Evelyn lost herself in an archaeological rant. “Ardeth certainly doesn’t have to tell you everything his people know and keep from the scientists.”

He kissed her pout. Knowledge was Evelyn’s grail and she could become a little insensitive to indigenous peoples' reasons for keeping secrets in her quest., Nobody was perfect, neither she or he or Ardeth, and their friendship could endure some friction.

**********************************************************

The woman had come back again. On Jonathan's coffin, she placed a strange helmet, white and half burned…

“Cody,” she said, then a long silence and she added: “He was himself at the end. He called for you.” And, in his coffin, Jonathan’s heart wept, like another wound had been added to his burden.

**********************************************************

Jonathan woke up kneeling, his face close, too close to the dying embers of the campfire. Ardeth hands, steel strong, the only things stopping him from burning himself.

A grief too big to bear pulsed in his heart, something so immense he couldn’t swallow it. He turned to Ardeth and saw in his friend’s eyes compassion and support. He didn’t deserve that man’s friendship. Friends could be taken so quickly, died in a flourish of a blade, Jonathan should….No, no, those thoughts weren’t his. Ardeth was a dear friend, yes, but he was in no danger of any blade.

It was such a freezing thought to realize the inside of his own brain weren’t exactly his own anymore.

“How far away is this city again?” Jonathan asked.

***********************************************************

Later, when Jonathan, pale and with too deep shadow beneath his eyes, had been put to sleep by a few drops of a potion made by one the Medjai specialist, Ardeth, Rick and Evelyn divided the hours of day and night between the three of them.

Jonathan couldn’t be left alone.

They left the camp at dawn, escorted by ten of Ardeth’s men. Jonathan was trying very hard to put his persona on, like a mask, and Rick was keeping him company at the moment, so Evelyn guided her camel next to Ardeth.

“Are you here to grill me about Thinis' secrets?” Ardeth asked and she made a face.

“I’m sorry,” Evey admitted. “Sometimes I lose myself in my desire for knowledge and I act harshly. I wouldn’t want you to think your friendship is only a means to me.”

“I know the truth of your heart, Evelyn O’Connell,” the Medjai simply said. “You are a good person, if not a very patient one. Which is a surprise for a woman capable of speaking ten dead languages.”

“Only nine,” Evey corrected and everything in her tone confessed she found it a terrible shortfall on her part.

He smiled and didn’t admit to her he spoke more. Instead, he told her old tales of the lost city of Thinis, stories of the beginning of Egypt, when the Medjai were simply one tribe of several, before the rise of the united country, before the Pharaohs. Evelyn listened, eyes shining. In return, she recited the Culhwch and Olwen to him, translating on the fly from middle Welsh to English and Ardeth was in turn fascinated.

“When Jonathan is healed,” Ardeth said, refusing to entertain the idea that his friend could die. “I think I would like to see your country.”

“I would like to be your guide,” Evelyn answered, “and to guide you to its secrets. Even if we are sadly lacking in lost magic cities.”

“Perhaps we will find them together,” Ardeth said. “Perhaps there are Medjai in your country, keeping its secrets, like my brothers and myself are keeping the secrets of Egypt.”

***************************************************************

There was a child. A small, strange child, with green skin and a bizarre headdress. She was a girl, and young, so young, and Jonathan knew that one day, she would have been his to teach. He had always known and she had too, and sometimes, when he could, he had visited her and the other children, happy to see her grow safe and happy, like every child should.

But a shadow entered the room. A shadow with a cowl obscuring its face, but Jonathan knew. He knew that shadow had been his child too and if his lips were sealed by cold and death, his heart yelled and cried and raged, as the shadow cut in two the one who should have been his sister.

***************************************************************

Thinis slept under the sand but the Medjai knew a way. They always knew a way, custodians of so many secrets. Ardeth guided their small expedition and they started to dig, taking turns, to excavate the entry to the lost city.

“How long since you last dug it out?” Rick grumbled, as he was on the team excavating the sand. “It seems that door hasn’t seen the light of the sun since it was built, with all this freaking sand on it.”

“We haven’t come back since the sixteenth century,” Ardeth explained. “The amulet was stolen from a group of Medjai at that time, and we tracked the buyer, and tried to save his son who had touched the crystal.”

“And did it work?”

Ardet’s grimace told everything of the answer.

“Perfect, just perfect,” Rick growled and he started to work even harder.

Once the path to the door was cleared out, Ardeth left half his men outside on guard with Evelyn and Rick, and entered the city with Jonathan and the rest of the Medjai. Evelyn had protested, and Rick too, and it was Jonathan’s own voice that finally had convinced them. How could he fight the despair in his soul, if he was afraid for his family?

“You’re going with Ardeth!” Evelyn had protested and the Medjai had been touched by this casual inclusion in their family.

“Sometimes attachment isn’t enough,” Ardeth had told the young woman. “We have been trained since childhood for this. We won’t fail your brother. We won’t fail our friend in his time of need.”

The Medjai had been trained for this. To protect the world from everything that slept under the sand. To stand guard, silent, vigilant, between the people of Egypt and the different horrors the past had left. Ardeth thought about that as they progressed. It was his duty and also his honour, but even he found the slow walk into the city buried under the sand difficult.

Not physically.

Here, there weren't any of the traps or undead abominations which had marked his first adventure with Rick and company, when together they had stopped Imothep.

No, the difficulty was in all their hearts and it didn’t come from their own feelings. It was a song of despair, of infinite sadness, a grief which tore them apart and still asked for more. But where men of the past had succumbed, the Medjai didn’t. Perhaps the only ones who wouldn’t. 

Duty. A life offered to duty. The desire to protect, even the people who didn’t understand them, who would have spit on their way of life. That was the Medjai way. And whatever was waiting for them in the heart of the city understood that, perhaps more than anything else in the world.

Perhaps even more than infinite sadness.

Duty, even in the time of grief.

For this, the warriors and Jonathan arrived alive at the ruined temple. Gritting their teeth against despair, but alive, if slightly dusty. Ardeth left his men there and guided Jonathan further in. The Englishman couldn’t walk anymore, despite courageous effort. Ardeth, a hand around his waist, dragged him into the sanctuary, and almost let go of him the moment they entered. In the light of the torch, the stone glittered in a way no stone should.

Slowly, Ardeth helped Jonathan to the base of the steps. When Jonathan was sitting down, he went closer to examine the stone. It was no stone, something his ancestors hadn’t included in their reports, perhaps for fear to seem insane.

Ardeth touched it.

It was metal, he was certain of it. A metal he couldn’t identify, but a metal. And there, at the base of it there was….

There was something deformed by heat, by time, by the shock of a crash in the desert centuries ago, but that a modern Medjai could identify where pre-pharaonic and fifteen centuries Medjai couldn’t.

Some sort of handle.

Some sort of door handle….

Ardeth, in a moment of dumb courage his Medjai teachers would have walloped his behind for, turned the handle. It was stuck, but with a bit of effort…

A hiss, stale air, and it opened.

On the stone floor, Jonathan had passed out.

Ardeth looked inside the stone which wasn’t a stone.

There was…there was some strange statue. A man. Certainly not Egyptian, but no people he could identify. Simply a man, very realistic, but only three-quarters of him could be seen, the rest lost in the mass of stone, or metal, behind him, like the sculptor had been interrupted. On the side, there was some metal contraption with lights, all red, and blinking like crazy. And one by one, they were going out.

Ardeth had half decided to throw Jonathan across his shoulders and start running, because he didn’t want to be there when the last one went out, when suddenly all of them failed and went dark.

There was a light, a noise, liquid falling on the floor, and a man stepped out of the statue, into Ardeth’s arms.

“Ahsoka,” he said, opening eyes as blue as the sky in the desert, and then he passed out. At the same time, a fog of grey lifted from Ardeth’s heart and he understood that whatever spell had come from the stone, the…thing, it was forever a thing of the past.

To say the Medjai, Rick and Evy were surprised to see half their team coming back with an extra member was an understatement. Their usual was more: 'sudden monster trying to eat their heart and liver,' not: 'mysterious human with red hair stepping out of a statue.' Nevertheless, camp was established, and Jonathan was examined from head to toe, then the man.

“He looks…normal,” was the very helpful diagnostic.

And he did. Only one head, blue eyes, red hair, red beard.

“He would seem more at his place in England, if not for the strange armour,” Evelyn commented, and then forget a little about their guest, because Jonathan had woken up. A little hungover, exhausted, but definitely himself.

And the stranger slept. Days after days. As they stayed in camp the time necessary to let Evelyn visit the ruins, which was both the sweetest gift the Medjai could give her, and the cruellest. The sweetest, because her soul thirsting for knowledge saw and learned things no archaeologist had ever dreamed off. The cruellest, because she could never talk about it, or publish about it, or even use the knowledge gained. Then they hid the entry of the city again and departed.

Every day, the sleeping stranger was tied up to Ardeth on his camel. Every night, they moistened cloths in milk and water, pressing them between his lips to nourish him. Every day, the stranger’s skin lost a little of his pallor as his health seemed to get better.

Jonathan helped the Medjai care for the man with a patience he hadn’t demonstrated in years. He felt a strange kinship with this stranger who had almost caused his death. How could he blame him when he remembered the depth of his sadness? 

Sometimes, late in the night, when the memory of his pain was too much on his heart, he searched for Ardeth. He didn’t remember exactly what had happened in the temple, but he knew the warrior had saved his life and his sanity and he remembered his arms around his shoulders, his silent protection. Late in the nights, they talked. 

They talked about Medjai training and Oxford. They talked about what they had seen of the world. They talked about their family, Ardeth’s grandfather and uncle who had led the Medjai before him and his father whom he hadn’t known, killed in battle before his birth.They talked about Jonathan and Evelyn’s parents and how their English family had never quite accepted this union and the children resulting…

One night, Ardeth even talked about why there never would be a Mrs. Ardeth Bey, something no person outside the Medjai had ever known, and Jonathan had thanked him for his trust and admitted some  youthful indiscretions, in the terms used by his Oxford peers. This night, there was no more talking but every night they sat a little closer and neither the Medjai or the O'Connell interrupted their time together, happy to see the slow progress of their dance, the seed of happiness.

************************************************************

Obi-Wan woke up.

It was the strangest thing. It felt alien, unreal. Things were definitely quite jumbled upstairs, his brain as scrambled as if he had spent a weeklong bender with what the clones pretended was alcohol, but he knew it had been longer than that, far too long. He knew he had spent more time in carbonite thant he was supposed to for their infiltration of the Citadel. Images were rushing around in his mind, and pain and anger and grief and Padme yelling and Ahsoka, tall and proud, everything a Jedi should be, and Rex’s blood on the floor and Anakin’s eyes a sickly yellow and nothing, nothing made sense.

Obi-Wan called to the Force and pushed himself into healing with the rest of his strength.

He passed out.

The next time he woke up, he could perceive people around him.

Strangers, not Force sensitive, but…friendly? Or at least, not unfriendly. But his body was still terribly weak and again, Obi-Wan called to the Force.

The third time waking was the good one.

Around him, Obi-Wan knew it was night, all souls at rest save one, at his side, and others further away. Guards, probably.

Carefully, he pushed a little in the Force and perceived no other Force Sensitive around, so he latched onto the closest person and slowly, very slowly, tipped them into sleep.

Only then did Obi-Wan open his eyes.

A stranger, dressed for the desert. Human, or humanoid…no, human.

Obi-Wan carefully stood up. Even with the healing, his steps were hesitant. How long….

He stepped out of the tent, silent as only a Jedi could be. Someone had taken his armour, and changed his clothes. He was dressed in blue like the stranger he had sent to sleep. He needed to find his armour and where he was.

But first, and most importantly, his lightsaber. He concentrated, searched into the Force, encountered a sleeping man next to the embers of a dying fire and stopped.

In the Force, not only could he perceive his own kyber crystal in his lightsaber, in another tent, but also Anakin’s lightsaber. Anakin wasn’t there, of that he was sure, the sun of his power would be impossible to miss.

Obi-Wan found his lightsaber easily and his brother’s kyber, not in Anakin lightsaber but in a strange necklace. With a shrug, he put the necklace around his neck. Evading the place where he could feel the guards, Obi-Wan stepped out of the camp.

He had only trekked two dunes when he felt Ahsoka. Strange, more powerful Ahsoka, but definitely Ahsoka. He had already understood time had passed, so when he broke into a run, he thought he would find his Grand Padawan all grown up, regal and powerful, a Knight of her own. Perhaps already a Master!

When he saw her, it was a shock.

Blue and transparent and shining, waiting for him across the dunes, compassion written on all her being.

Obi-Wan had always known he was fated for infinite sadness and he understood the time he had waited for all his life had come for him.

***************************************************************

Ardeth was the one who found him.

It had been easy to track his steps across the sand, once he had found his cousin asleep next to the covers of their strange guest, instead of standing guard.

The man was kneeling in the sand and crying. Ardeth, who already had his knife out against what he was sure was a trap, hesitated.

The man looked up and, like in the sanctuary, the Medjai took the blue of his eyes like a shock. He saw the man shoulder his pain and shake himself, with the fortitude of one who had borne too much burden too often. Then the man stood up and touched his chest.

“Obi-Wan,” he said.

“Ardeth,” the Medjai answered and Obi-Wan bowed politely.

Ardeth designated the direction they had come from, like a question, and Obi-Wan obediently started the trip back. Side by side, they walked, Obi-Wan lost in his thought, and the Medjai observing him.

It had been this man’s pain that had resonated from inside the stone.

What sort of grief could be so terrible….One day, perhaps he would know.

For now, tea and food, for the stranger and for their expedition.

They had time.

As they were approaching the first tent, Obi-Wan turned a last time and saw Ahsoka. She bowed and disappeared, probably going back to the Force, or to the New Republic, which Anakin’s children had made happen, and then his grandchildren, great grandchildren, countless generations while Obi-Wan had been prisoner in the carbonite, the module damaged, stopping him from  waking up.

Across the stars, far, far away, there were still Jedi, but what could he do, for people who thought his name was an old legend? People who weren’t even sure Anakin’s Fall and the End of the First Republic hadn’t been a legend for children, with how long ago it was?

Obi-Wan, resolutely, turned to the camp. He knew the world. Whatever the strange planet he had winded up, he was pretty sure there were people to help and things to learn. Starting with their language!

A man whom Obi-Wan had never seen but who was definitely strangely familiar, like Obi-Wan knew the shape of his soul, was running to them and he threw his arms around Ardeth, before babbling something the Jedi couldn’t understand, going beet red. Ardeth answered something, his tone firm, and put an arm around the other man’s waist in return, not letting him turn away. The other man went ever more red. 

Obi-Wan smiled. Yes, people were people, whatever the species or the era. 

The other man turned to Obi-Wan and again the Jedi had this strange impression of a resonance in the Force. The man wasn’t Force Sensitive, of that Obi-Wan was sure, but he almost could have been tipped in this direction, with just a small nudge from fate. What stayed was a strange connection, when their eyes met. 

The man bowed in a fluid movement, ceremonial and old, which was pure Jedi, like he had learned from Obi-Wan himself better than Anakin ever learned it, not interested as he was in protocol, or even in being polite. 

“Jonathan,” he said and Obi-Wan gave a bow in answer and said :

“Obi-Wan,” and the man smiled and said something he didn’t understand but which, Obi-Wan would have bet his lightsaber, meant some variations of ‘I know’.

At the side of the two men, the Jedi entered the camp and stepped into his new life. 

#star war #the mummy returns #ardeth bay #jonathan carnahan #obi wan kenobi #the clone wars #crossover #my fics

[verai-marcel]

The Pure Taste of You (RDR2 Fanfic, Incubus!Arthur x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: After the greatest night of your life, you wake up to a promise. As time goes on, do you still believe in that promise? How far will you go to find out?

Author’s Notes: The Sweet Taste of You won the poll for getting a sequel fic; this starts right after you wake up.

Tags: spoilers for chapter 4 onwards, incubus Arthur, high honor Arthur, emotions or some shit, angst, smut, HEA

AO3 link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4466

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

You awoke to someone stroking your head, a soft song wafting through the air. There were no words, but it sounded like a sweet melody, one that felt like love and devotion. Blinking your eyes as you got accustomed to the morning sun, you turned your head towards the voice.

Arthur was sitting on the edge of your bed, fully clothed, as if he were waiting for you to wake up.

“G’mornin’, darlin’.”

“Morning, Arthur,” you said, your voice cracking a little. “Are you leaving?”

He nodded, looking solemn. This got your attention, so you sat up in bed and gave him your full attention.

“I want you to know that I have e’rey intention of making you mine. I’ll be doin’ some jobs that take me farther away, but I will come back to you.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead, cupping your cheek in his big, warm hand. “But if two months pass and I ain’t back, well…”

You grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to think about that. I’ll wait for you.”

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said reverently as he brought your hand to his lips, your promise to wait meaning the world to him.

***

It had been two months. At first, you got a letter every other day, with him telling you how he was doing, and usually the letter was accompanied by a sketch from him of a building or an animal, something to remind you of him. Then a few days would pass before you got another letter. Then a week.

Then nothing. A whole month passed with no contact. You hoped that he was too busy to get to a post office. But deep down, you had a sinking feeling, a dread so heavy it weighed down your heart.

The dreams didn’t help. Jungles and gunfire, running, always running, and a cough that racked you through to your very soul. Then a mountain cave, and a lot of anger and helplessness. But within all those swirling emotions was a strong feeling of purpose, like you were trying to reach for something, and you couldn’t give up that hope because it was the only thing keeping you going.

You weren’t one for believing in the supernatural, but your dreams were so vivid and yet very much not yours that you wondered if you were seeing things from Arthur’s side.

That only made you worry more.

***

His chest had never felt heavier. It hurt to move, to breathe, to even exist.

Yet despite his best efforts, he continued to do so, driven by just one thing.

He spoke a name in barely a whisper, so faint that even he thought he imagined it. The name carried on the wind, and he hoped and prayed like a fool that he would be forgiven.

***

You woke up in a cold sweat. You swear you heard Arthur whisper your name, and bolted upright in your bed, looking around, hoping it was him. Instead, your room was silent, as if to mock you for thinking he’d come back.

Five days ago, your head started to hurt. You thought maybe it was all the crying that had caused the pain. But you started to notice that whenever you walked in a certain direction, the pain ebbed, and whenever you walked in any other direction, the pain returned. The exact direction changed every day, but always, always, when you were going northwards, you felt better, as if you were being drawn somewhere.

Today, the pain was particularly bad. As the sun began to set, you looked out the window, and your head cleared for just a moment, long enough to hear something.

You heard your name.

“I’m going crazy,” you muttered to yourself, turning back to your work. Then the ache in your head spiked. You maneuvered yourself around quickly to face north, and you breathed slowly as the pounding lessened. 

This was insane. 

A thought came into your head and it evolved into an idea, then a fully-fledged plan. You were about to do something out of the ordinary, but you were sick of this headache, sick of worrying about Arthur, and sick of not doing anything about it.

You wanted to know.

After you finished the last of the linens, you ran home, pulled all of your saved cash out from under your mattress, and put together a day bag: some dried meat, a bread roll, a canteen of water, a scarf, and a small pistol that Arthur had left you for your protection. Leaving your place and practically running to the livery stable, you hoped that they would still be open this late.

You arrived just before they closed and breathed a sigh of relief.

***

After renting a horse, using your savings as collateral, you made your way north, following the road until your headache increased. Then you just went whichever way you needed to go, turning this way and that, off the paths, across streams, up and down the rocky hillsides. You were grateful that you grew up on a farm and knew how to handle a horse. Part of you missed that life, but if you hadn’t run away when you had, you’d be dead and you would have never met Arthur.

You shudder at what could have been.

The night passed by as you spent hours traveling in a strange direction that led you to a tall mountain in Ambarino just as the sun was rising. Your headache was almost gone, but your heart was racing. Why were you being led here? You looked around; halfway up the hillside, you could see people leaving on a path below, some carrying out dead men, as if some kind of battle had been waged here. You urged your horse away, not wanting to be stopped. You were so close to where you needed to be. You could feel it deep in your heart.

Making your way up the steep hillside, the soft light of dawn illuminating your path, you saw that the path was becoming too narrow for a horse, and hitched her on a tree nearby before starting the climb. Over rocks and boulders, you clambered and scrambled until you reached a flat area where your headache disappeared.

And your heart stopped.

“Arthur!”

***

His eyes could not open. He wanted to see, even if he knew he’d be disappointed. He knew she wasn’t here; there was no way for her to have found him, way up here in the mountains. He imagined her voice was tinged with worry as she yelled his name. Were her cries getting louder? Maybe he was in hell, to be forever tortured by the voice of his beloved, unable to see her, touch her, taste her.

He would deserve it, for all that he had done.

Arthur’s chest rattled, desperately trying to breathe. He had gone for too long without feeding. The doctor had told him he had tuberculosis, but he knew what this was. Wasting away from the inside without the love he needed to survive, but he had no time to go to her. 

No time. 

There was no time.

He felt a hand on his. Felt a drop of water on his dry lips, salty and sad. Still, he could not open his eyes.

Then a kiss.

As if pure sunlight was being poured into his mouth, he gasped. 

And he drank.

And drank.

***

At first his lips were cold as you kissed him, finding your darling Arthur on this cold mountainside, his face pale, his features sunken. You poured all of your love into this one final kiss, wanting him to know how much you cared, even if you had only known him for a short time. 

So when his lips moved against yours and became warm under your touch, you gave him everything. You hoped for a miracle as you kissed him more and more.

You grew tired. Your arms wrapped around his body, as if to protect him from the world while you kept kissing him.

You became cold, so you snuggled closer to him as his body grew warmer.

You opened your eyes at the same time he opened his.

He rasped your name and smiled.

You smiled back.

And then you saw no more.

***

You awoke in a bed. Looking around, you figured you were in some kind of cabin. The birds chirping outside, the sound of the wind through the trees, and the trickle of water nearby was so idyllic that you almost forgot how you got here.

In fact, you had no recollection of how you got here.

Stumbling out of bed, you noted you were wearing a sheer sleeping gown, soft and comfortable. You felt like a sleeping princess as you carefully made your way towards the front door, the wood floor cold against your bare feet. You felt weak, every breath you took seemed to rattle in your rib cage, and your stomach growled with hunger. Seeing an apple on the table next to the small kitchen, you grabbed it and devoured it as you finally stepped outside.

The view that greeted you was like out of a dream. A peaceful lake, the mountains, the forest, all framed by a sky so blue that it looked like a painting. 

And on the shore of that lake stood Arthur, fishing peacefully, a look of concentration on his face. You watched as he caught a fish, pulling it out of the water and considering it for a few moments before mumbling, “Sorry, little guy. I’ll let you grow a bit more.”

He unhooked the little fish and tossed it back into the lake. Watching it swim away, he put new bait on his fishing hook and cast his line out, wedging the rod between some rocks before turning around.

He stopped short when he saw you.

Arthur called your name, almost in disbelief.

Then he ran to you.

“You shouldn’t be out here, you’ll catch a cold,” he fussed, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders to ward off the chilly mountain air.

“Arthur, what happened?”

He stepped away from you, one hand gripping his other arm, shame radiating from his posture.

You stepped closer. “Arthur. Tell me.”

He sighed and let go of his arm. “I… I was dyin’.”

You gasped but stayed quiet to let him continue.

“You saved me, darlin’. Fer that, you have gratitude. Forever.” He took your hands in his. “But I have to tell you somethin’. It’ll sound insane. But I tell you, it’s true.” 

He took a deep breath.

“I’m a demon.”

You cocked your head at him. “Arthur, you’re not-”

“Let me explain.” He walked over to a large log, one that spanned at least twenty feet. He squatted down and lifted it up with ease. 

Even you had to admit that no regular human could lift a log of that size with that little effort.

Putting the log back down, he walked back to you. “To be clear, I’m only half.”

“Half?”

“My mother. She was a succubus. Fell in love with my father, a human. Though he was more a demon than she was. She was sweet, kind, gentle. He… weren’t.”

You were a little familiar with the term. From what you could recall, a succubus was a sex demon. Which meant he was half a sex demon.

“How did I save you?”

“You kissed me. Filled me with yer love.” He held your hands again, bringing them to his lips and closing his eyes. “But I took too much, drained you. I couldn’t control myself, I was so weak.”

He opened his eyes and looked so sad, so guilty. “I shouldn’t keep you to myself. If I lose control again, I…” Looking away from you, he trailed off, taking a shuddering breath, unable to even consider the consequences. Then he suddenly turned back to you, his eyes hardened with determination. “You can’t stay with me. I’m just a danger to you.”

You were shocked. But you could tell from the guilt he wore on his shoulder that he was blaming himself for extraordinary circumstances. “I wasn’t in danger the first time you were with me, was I?”

“No, no, I was in control then.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I need to feed off yer, uh, attraction to me. That, uh, energy, is what keeps me alive.” He gestured with his hands. “If I’m too hungry, I might feed too much, and that’s what happened to ya.”

You pondered his words for a few moments before asking him one simple question. 

"If I leave you, will you die?" 

He was silent. 

"Arthur."

He would not speak; he only looked away from your piercing glare. That was enough of an answer on its own. 

"I won't leave you," you said firmly. 

"But—"

"No buts," you interrupted, walking towards him. "I can't get you out of my system, and clearly neither can you."

He retreated away, stepping backwards into the lake, his boots crunching in the river gravel with every step. 

Still you followed him, into the ice cold water. 

"Darlin', don't come in here, you'll get cold," he said in a panic, immediately rushing towards you, taking you by your arms and pushing you out of the water.

You dug your feet in and grabbed his arms, pushing back at him. "I'll go where I want." Looking up at him determinedly, you lowered your voice. "I want to be with you, Arthur."

A moment passed, and then another and another as Arthur stared at you, emotions flying through his eyes like lightning across the sky. He finally leaned in, wrapped his arms around you, picked you up, and carried you back to the shoreline. He refused to put you down when you began to wriggle out of his grip. "You absolutely sure, sweetheart?"

"As sure as the sun is in the sky, my dear."

He smiled at you, his eyes shimmering with emotion. 

***

A week passed in rustic bliss as you recuperated. Arthur hunted and sold pelts in town to make money while you rested or cleaned around the house or fished while he was away. He was never too far, but whenever he was gone, he always asked that you stay inside in case of predators. You usually did as he asked, but as you regained your energy and got tired of being cooped up in the cabin, you would sit outside on the dock and fish during the early mornings.

Arthur knew you had not listened to his request when you had grilled fish for dinner, but he didn’t say anything. He only gave you a disapproving look, while you always just smiled innocently at him. 

As the second week in the cabin began, you noticed that Arthur was starting to look a bit pale. After he returned from a day hunting, you walked up to him and put his face between your hands.

"Arthur, do you need… Me?"

He looked at you and then looked away, conflicted. "I'll be fine."

You shook your head at him and hugged him tight. After a few moments, he wrapped his arms around you. Looking up at him, you cupped his cheek.

"Kiss me," you whispered.

He swallowed, leaned down, and gave you the most chaste kiss. 

"More, Arthur!" you whined. 

"Darlin'—" 

"Don't treat me like I'm made of glass, Mr. Morgan. I've been resting for an entire week. I feel great.” You poked his chest with a finger. “You need to trust me.”

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I just… I can’t get that image out of my mind, you lying on the ground, pale as death.”

“Then let’s get a different image in your head, shall we?”

You pushed him onto the bed and straddled him.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Hush. Just enjoy.” You removed your clothes slowly, gyrating your hips in a slow circle as he watched you, his eyes darkening with every bit of flesh revealed. He couldn’t stop his body from reacting to your almost nude form, gripping the edge of the bed and breathing heavily.

You got up just long enough to shimmy out of your pants and drawers before you lay on top of him and kissed his nose. “Will you make love to me, Arthur?”

“Of course, my heart,” he said, his voice straining under the weight of his emotions. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close, pressing his lips against your skin and simply breathing in your scent.

You winked at him as you pushed yourself up and began to unbutton his shirt. He watched with a lazy smile as you reached the last button and tugged it off his shoulders, revealing his toned biceps. He sat up and removed the rest of his shirt as you started working on the buttons of his jeans. 

Arthur lay back down and lifted his hips as you pulled off his pants and his short drawers, wanting to see him gloriously naked. He was beautiful with his scars marking his skin, telling a story of a rough life, smoothed over with time. The trail of hair from his chest went down his stomach and lower, leading you to his thick shaft. 

You gently brushed your fingers along the length of him, looking up to see his reaction. Watching the heat in his eyes ignite as you stroked him, you gave him a cheeky grin before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. 

"Oh lord, darlin'," Arthur moaned, his head lolling back as he tried to keep his hips from jerking upwards into the warmth of your mouth. “Where'd you learn that?"

You just winked. You'd tell him later. Right now, you just licked him slowly from base to tip before engulfing him in your mouth. 

Arthur's strangled cry of pleasure made you hum happily as you languidly lapped at his sensitive skin. His hands rested on your head, petting you lovingly as you explored him, wrapping your lips around him and sucking hard. 

A litany of creative curses escaped him as he grabbed your head and thrust up into your mouth, mindlessly giving into his lust. When you pushed down on his thighs and made a surprised squeal, he quickly let you go and breathed heavily. 

"Git up here," he growled, sitting up and pulling you into his lap. "I need to be inside of you."

Straddling his thighs, you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, nearly crying with relief as you felt that carnal connection, rejoicing in that feeling of being filled up by him.

You moaned his name as he grabbed your hips and started to move you up and down, urging you faster and faster. You rode him hard as he wantonly chased down his pleasure. Feeling yourself flying towards the brink of an ecstatic high, you held Arthur’s face and pulled him towards you.

“Dar—”

You didn’t let him finish; you kissed him almost violently, pouring your love into him, forcing him to take all of your pent-up lust. He swallowed and moaned, kissing you back, and you felt a returning energy that pushed you over the edge and made you fly. The kiss broke as the two of you went over the edge of ecstasy together, arms holding each other tight as your hips spasmed, wringing out every last drop of his essence as he pumped upwards into you, gasping your name and pressing his forehead against yours.

After his last thrust, Arthur held you tightly against him, catching his breath while you caught yours.

“That… that was amazin’,” he finally said to you.

“Will it always be like that?” you asked.

“I hope so,” he said, a wry smile on his face.

You pulled back to look at his face. The color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes seemed much less sunken. You stroked his cheek gently. “You look better.”

“How’re you feeling’?” he said, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Never better.” You rolled your hips and smiled when he moaned, his cock hardening inside of you once more. “I could go for a round two.”

“You cheeky girl,” Arthur said while laughing, rolling over to make love to you until the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

***

“So where’d you learn that trick?”

“What trick?” you asked around a mouthful of biscuit. 

“You know. The one where you put yer lips around my…” He gestured towards his lower region.

You laughed. “You’re not going to like the answer.”

“Jus’ tell me.”

You got up from the kitchen table, taking your plate back to the sink so you wouldn’t have to face him. “I, um, read your mother’s journal.”

You heard a fork drop onto a plate. Turning around, you saw Arthur looking at you, aghast.

“I’m sorry!”

“No, that ain’t… you don’t hafta apologize,” he quickly corrected. “I’ve read her journal. I never saw nothin’ like that.”

Your eyebrow raised. As you watched, Arthur went to grab the journal and returned to stand next to you, flipping through the pages.

“There, there it is,” you said, pointing at one of the pages towards the end of the journal.

“Huh? These’re blank, darlin’,” Arthur said.

You blinked. You looked up at him, confused. Then you looked down at the page he had flipped to, and sure as day, you saw a flowing script with detailed descriptions of sexual acts that drove men wild. It even had illustrations. 

“Arthur… where do the blank pages start for you?”

He flipped to a page about ten sheets away from the end. “Right here.”

Taking the journal in your hands, you started to read the text. You admit, you had started at the end and stopped when you saw the lewd artwork and never read before that part.

“It says, ‘To the one who captures the heart of an incubus.’” You looked up at Arthur, who looked bewildered, his jaw hanging slightly open. You continued. “‘Only you can read these last pages, because it holds things that I’m sure a son does not want to hear from his mother. But I want you to know my boy is special; even though he is half a creature of the night, his soul is all human. Please cherish him, care for him, and know that if he gives you his heart, he will give it all to you, and not an ounce less.’”

You looked up to the ceiling, trying not to cry, but glancing at Arthur, whose eyes were glistening with unshed tears, you let a few drops fall.

“That all it says?” he asked quietly.

“Um, well… the rest says, ‘On the following pages, I’ve shared my knowledge of carnal acts that are sure to enrich your life. But please don’t tell my son, as I am sure he will burst from shame if he knew his dear mother has intimate knowledge of such things.’” You glanced back at Arthur. “Whoops. I guess I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

Arthur choked back a laugh. “Ma, you never cease to amaze me,” he rasped as he looked up at the ceiling.

You looked at Arthur, who was halfway in tears, halfway laughing. “So… should I not use her techniques?”

He shuddered. “Please don’t call them ‘her’ techniques,” he grumbled

You laughed wholeheartedly. “Of course. They’re my techniques now, after all.”

He smiled at you; you smiled back. As he pulled you into his arms, you quietly thanked his mother for bringing Arthur into the world.

***

The spring months had passed in a blink of an eye as you and Arthur lived together in this small cabin, unbothered by anyone for the most part. The occasional traveler or merchant would go by on the road in the distance, but most days, the only person you saw was Arthur.

You didn’t mind one bit.

You still had the horse you rented; at this point, you figured the horse was a purchase and your savings long gone. Arthur had taken to him quite well, and he would take Ol’Trigger out to go hunting. He wasn’t looking too healthy when you rented him, but somehow, with all this clean mountain air and fresh grass, he was growing strong. 

The sun was beginning to set on this first day of summer when you heard Arthur and Ol'Trigger coming back from a day of selling furs to various traders. 

"There you are, my sweet," Arthur said with a big grin on his face as you approached. He held out his arms. 

"You're probably smelly from being out all day," you groused, but you still stepped into the circle of his arms and held him tightly. 

He leaned down and gave you a chaste peck on the lips. "Would you take a walk with me, darlin'?" 

"Sure," you answered easily. The two of you would often walk up the nearby mountain trail to an overlook where you could see a fantastic view of the whole lake. You knew you would always love this sight; it was so tranquil and beautiful, and every day the sun hit the water just a little bit differently. 

The two of you walked in silence, hand in hand, as the trees rustled and the birds chirped their goodbyes to the daylight. As you reached the overlook, you gasped. The solstice sunset dyed the world a rich red and gold, reflected on the lake like a mirror to the sky. 

"I could never get tired of this view," you said in awe. 

"Me either," Arthur said in a hushed tone. 

You turned to find him gazing at you, a small smile on his face. You smiled shyly back at him. "Oh, you're too nice to me." 

Without saying a word, he let go of your hand for a moment and got down on one knee. 

"Ar-Arthur?" 

Pulling out a ring that sparkled in the light, he looked up at you, his eyes showing a bit of vulnerability. He said your name so seriously that you stood up just a little straighter. 

"I love you. More than anythin’. It would mean the world to me if you did me the greatest honor." He took a deep breath. "Will ya marry me?" 

Tears had already started flowing the moment he pulled out the ring. But his earnest speech just filled your heart with joy. 

"Of course I'll marry you!" you exclaimed.

He grinned and stood up, took your hand, and slipped the gorgeous ring onto your finger. Then he leaned down and kissed you, sweet and unafraid, full of love.

As the sun set over the horizon, you thought that today, of all days, was the most perfect one of all.

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

End Notes: I was deep in my feels, fam. So a bit of lore: Arthur is the only one who can't read the text in the back of the book; it was written with enchanted ink made with a drop of Arthur's blood when he was a child. Also the bonding that Arthur & Reader have is because Arthur claimed her last time they fucked. I know this sequel was more plot than porn, but I still hope you enjoyed it!

#rdr2 fanfic #arthur x reader #arthur morgan #arthur x fem!reader #incubus arthur #fanfic #writing #nsft #lemon fanfic