#i swear people want to find any reason to be angry at Glimmer

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

#fic: homebound #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun fic #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #shingeki no kyojin x reader #my writing

[mrpenguinpants]

Mona HCs: Self-worth

[For the Christmas Celebration Requests, please read this]

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Hey anon! I’m so sorry this is late. I hope you’re doing okay anon, wherever you are. But I’m happy to hear you like my work 💕💕 I don’t mind talking/writing about sensitive topics if it can help people, even if the comfort is coming through words it’s still comfort, but I’m never too busy to skip over a request. Just might be a bit slow haha. I’m glad you enjoy reading them and sending me an ask! Thanks for telling me I’m doing great cause damn I need that right now.

If any of you are struggling right now, even if you’re in a slump, I’m always free to talk. Sometimes it’s easier to vent to a stranger and know that you aren’t alone. We’re in this together.

I’m kinda scared to post this but that’s alright;; This was way longer than I thought it would be so I’m gonna split Barbara and Mona into separate hcs.

But, depending on the feedback (if there is any lol) I might skip Barbara. I swear I was going to make this happy but then I shot myself in the kneecap.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​​  @mikeysbike​​​ @unionwitch​​ @musekala​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​​ @akaasea​​ @xoneaboveallx​​ @adoring-ghost​​ @asheseiler​​ @childelover​

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Mona HCs: Self-worth

Mona Megistus was an astrologist of great skill and equally-great pride. She was both beautiful and confident and never used her astrology for profit. You were so proud of her and grateful that she was your partner. But maybe being with someone so great was when you started feeling off. You started comparing yourself to Mona and everyone else around you, seeing and thinking that everyone was doing something worthwhile. Sucrose and Albedo were great alchemists. Jean, Kaeya, and Lisa were part of the Knights of Favonius. What were you doing? Even though you felt guilt for feeling these ugly emotions towards your friends, you couldn’t stop them. You loved Mona, nothing would change that. So instead, you started hating yourself. 

You had met the astrologist when she was moraless and starving outside the walls of the City of Freedom. You knew that she had a temporary home towards the corner of Mondstadt so why was she outside the walls? It turns out that she spent all her mora on astrological devices and forgot that she was human and needed to eat and had collapsed before making it home. Out of the kindness of your heart and frankly, leaving someone to die right outside the gates of the City of Freedom would be awful, so you helped carry her back to your home and made sure she was alright. Since then Mona had attempted to return the favour but you always declined. You didn’t want to know about your fate but if she wanted to hang out as friends, you would be inclined to. It started to elevate from there and now you’re both partners. Since then you found yourself in Mona’s temporary lab and house more often than your own home. 

Being that you spent so much time with Mona, you’ve had to deal with a fair share of clients storming out the door because of Mona’s bluntness when reciting their fates. To be fair, she was blunt towards you too. In the beginning you didn’t mind, you actually enjoyed the honesty, but now you couldn’t help but second guess yourself. Trying to reason with yourself that if Mona didn’t like you, she would say it. If you weren’t good enough, she would tell you. Well, due to her astrology she took one glance at you the next time you walked in and knew all your deepest insecurity's.

“Your life is not at a standstill, it’s not hopeless. There is nothing to be sad about.” 

That made you take a step back. Slowly registering the words and repeating them over and over in your head. You knew that she was just telling you what you needed to hear. That this is what you needed and wanted to hear. That she wasn’t trying to be mean and that she was right. You wanted to live a happy life with her and if you felt useless then you should work on it. Staying holed up in your room wasn’t going to help you. You knew all of this and yet, you could feel yourself slowly breakdown.

“Breathe in. Breathe out. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Mona had her experiences of clients crying and getting angry at her predictions but when she saw you slowly breakdown. To see your eyes start to burn and get heavy, like the rim of a glass being pushed down and down. To see you slowly crumble from the inside out as you tried to hold your tears and sniffles in. She didn’t need the stars to tell her that she said the wrong thing. She was told to never offer advice, just to read what fate said when asked. 

“I want to be happy. But I just can’t. I want to enjoy these little moments. I want to enjoy seeing my friends. I want to do so many things and make so many happy memories with you. I know all of these things and I’m trying my hardest to think like that but I just can’t. I can’t. Am I just not trying hard enough? Am I enough to you? Am I worth enough to be okay?”

She called out to you but you already turned away and ran out the door. You didn’t see each other for a few days because you couldn’t help but second guess what you said. Were you overthinking it? Mona didn’t say anything hurtful so why were you so upset? You didn’t want to face her so you curled into yourself further and let yourself get swallowed whole in despair.

When a week had passed, Mona made her specialty dish “Der Weisheit Letzter Schluss (Life)” and awkwardly shuffled outside your door. She wanted to give you time to yourself but after talking with Albedo and Klee plus your absent presence from her, she felt lonely and was starting to reflect on her words. It was a insensitive to take your happiness for granted and while she usually didn’t complain about upset clients being told future’s they didn’t want to hear. You were important to her. You were worth enough to be told things were going to be okay and much more. 

As much confidence that Mona had in herself and her skills, she couldn’t manage money. She was always living on poverty line. She almost died if you didn’t find her and extended your help. She was so lonely and you were the first person that she considered a friend. More than a friend and more than a partner. You meant so much to her and she couldn’t realize that this is what you needed to hear instead. 

She softly knocked on the door to see if you were home but the door gave away. You hadn’t bothered to even lock the door. At least you were in Mondstadt so she could rely that no one had broken in. She softly opens the door and places the dish on the table and searches your little home trying to find you.

You’re on your bed, asleep even when it’s noon. She didn’t want to wake you up but she didn’t want to leave yet. Not until you were okay. She felt so much guilt and only now found the courage to come see you. She was disappointed in herself that she basically abandoned you in your time of need, what kind of partner was she? She bit her lip hard enough for it to bleed as she carefully lied down next to you and wrapping her arms around you. Even if you hate her or you don’t want to see her, she doesn’t want you to think that you’re worthless or she doesn’t care. You mean so much to her and you spent all this time not knowing.

You don’t need to be the best, even if you think that what you’re doing isn’t good, it was and she was proud of you. No matter how long it takes for you to feel okay, to feel happy, she’ll stay by your side the same way you did.

“It’s okay. It’s okay to feel like you’re not good enough. Don’t feel guilty for being stressed or sad. Things will get better. Fate has not abandoned you and neither will I.”

She had regressed to her apprenticeship, thinking that astrology could explain the laws that governed the existence of all things. That human hearts were guided by these laws, and if one had great enough powers of calculation, all the mysteries of the world could be understood. She remembered when she was starving, you had shared half your food with her. In your small but warm kitchen as you offered her your own hard work just to make sure she, a stranger, had something to eat. 

"Out here, we've gotta have each other's backs."

That was the first time she truly questioned her thoughts under the stars, she marveled that her research had been so full of holes. Mona cries silently beside you, even with all her training and how she boasts about the power of astrology, she can’t help you. No matter how many hydro graphs she makes or tells you that the stars show a glimmer of hope. That won’t help you. So she holds you and hopes that you can feel all her emotions and love. 

While you’re asleep she tells you about when she first started astrology, she accidently scaled herself. The burns are still on her as a reminder that she makes mistakes. How she was moraless for years after leaving her Master’s teachings but somehow found a job in the Court of Fontaine’s mainline newspaper. All on pure chance. She tells you how appreciative she is that you visit her everyday, to make sure she has a meal, and that she remembers to write her column for the newspaper. That she’s grateful to have met you and have you stay by her side. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay. It will be okay. You’re enough. You’re perfect. Everyone may seem to be exceeding but it doesn’t mean you’re slow, that you’re not worth it. You are at your own pace, working through your own steps. You’re not alone. I’m here. You’ll be okay.”  

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin mona #genshin impact mona #mona megistus #mona x reader #mona x mc #mona headcanons #mona imagines #tw depression

[citydreamgrls]

a simple favour - part two

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 4,785

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part three here

“You did WHAT!” Ron was the first to respond to Fred’s confession. The rest weren’t far behind. Harry burst into a fit of nervous giggles, unable to truly contemplate it all George just switched up his facial expressions from confused to shocked to horrified over and over again. Hermione’s reaction was similar to Ron’s, as she threw herself into a flurry of telling Fred how mental he was, and asking him questions without waiting for answers.

All the while I sat in disbelief, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. I held my head upright, just a blank expression stuck on my face as I watched the wall, hoping that something would come to mind.

“YOU’RE FUCKING MENTAL FRED!’

“HAS SHE NOT GONE THROUGH ENOUGH?”

“GOD SHE’S ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, THIS IS DISGUSTING.”

“Poor girl, you should be ashamed Fred.”

“And to think I ever looked up to you.”Ron huffed, setting Hermione off again.

“IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF A SICK JOKE?” She screeched, stopping everyone in their spiralling tracks, even making me look over to see what the twin would say.

“It- it just slipped out okay, but wait-” He stopped his brother from ripping his head off, “I think it might have done something.”

“Does he believe you?” I asked into the following silence, making him look at me with more of an apology than he had ever spoken aloud. “I can’t say for sure.. But he was definitely bothered by it.”

“And what if this is all he needs to get back at her, just a reason to hurt y/n?” Hermione asked.

Fred’s face dropped and he sighed with genuine regret, if what he was saying was true then it could go either way. Mclaggen could either get bored of seeing me with someone else and move on, or he could come after fuelled with jealousy.

“I’m sorry,” He finally spoke, looking over to me and keeping his eyes on mine as he carried on,“I know it isn’t ideal, but it could at least mean he isn’t as interested.”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” My best friend replied, tying her hair up and sitting down in defeat.

“I suppose we better make him believe then.” I nodded, the words feeling heavy and wrong as they came from my throat. Nothing felt right about this, I felt bad for Fred having to lie for me and act as if he loved me just because some guy was being a creep.

Fred smiled weakly, he must have sensed my nerves. Or maybe I just wasn’t as good at hiding what I felt as I’d always presumed I was. Either way, he knew something about where my head was at. He was also right. This situation wasn’t ideal, but equally it was the only idea any of us had come up with that seemed to actually work in some way. Fred wasn’t malicious, he would only ever do this to help.

Now we just needed to pull it off properly.

-

None of us talked over it for long, no one really wanted to go into much detail of how soppy Fred and I needed to act around one another. No one less than Ron, who had a permanent scowl aimed at his brother as we discussed the plan. It all came down to what people outside of mine and Hermione’s room thought. It wasn’t just Cormac who we would be lying to, but everyone else in the school. If just one person caught wind that this was a set up, then it would be a wasted effort and I’d be stuck with a stalker for the rest of my time at Hogwarts.

“What about Ginny?” Harry asked, “Do we tell her?”

“She needs to believe it like everyone else,” Fred said. “If she thinks we’re together, then she’ll tell mum and dad straight away. Saves them hearing from anyone else, that would be more suspicious.”

“We can still tell her the truth,” Ron was still angry, finding every reason to disagree with people. “Even if she knows she can tell mum and dad.”

“She’s still young Ron, we can’t trust that she won’t let slip.” He argued back.

“She’s family you git, it isn’t fair to lie to her too!”

“Fred’s right.” Hermione put a hand on Ron’s, all of us nodding in agreement. “All of this stays between us, that’s all. We can trust one another, and that’s it. No one else.”

Ron reluctantly gave in, not quite agreeing, but nevertheless refraining from arguing the point any further. It all seemed quite futile to him, and something deep down made him wonder what his brother was up to. George coaxed everyone out, leaving Hermione and I to talk things over once again.

“One of us can watch the tower from the common room, that way he can’t get to you.” He explained once the boys were going down the stairs. I thanked him as he smiled and left, always the one to keep smiling despite the circumstances.

My best friend hugged me once again, refusing to let go as we tried to chat about anything other than Fred, which lasted about 2 minutes.

“What was he thinking?” She scoffed and I shrugged.

“It’s our only chance Mione,”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill him.” My face was blank, probably pale and sickly. I felt sickly so it seemed right that I look the part.

“Who? Fred or Mclaggen?”

“Both,” I laughed, the tiniest glimmer of happiness stabbing its way through the dark. My friend’s wrapped round me more, unwilling to let go until she absolutely had to, her hands squeezed my sides comfortably. “Thank you, for stopping Mclaggen last night… and for looking after me so much.”

“I know you would do the same,” She smiled, stroking my hair with one hand.

“Were you scared too?” I asked, breathing deeply as I tried to repress that feeling I’d had seeing him standing in the middle of the room only a few steps away from my bed.

“A little bit,”

“You’re braver than me… what do you think he would hav-”

“Don’t think about it y/n, it’s over. Just focus on you and Fred.”

I sat up, her arms slipping away as I did so. She mimicked me, crossing her legs as I did mine and watched my mind whir as I thought about Fred over and over.

“There must have been other things he could’ve said.” I sighed, Hermione nodding.

“Probably..”

“Hell, he could’ve beaten him to the ground.” “So why didn’t he?” The girl asked, no answer coming to my mind but plenty inside hers. “I just think there’s a reason he lied to Mclaggen.”

“He said it slipped out,”

“Oh I believe that, but it’s what that means that’s confusing me.” She admitted, I frowned at her, not quite following.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” She sat up onto her knees, looking me right in the eyes to make sure I understood what she was thinking. “For Fred, the guy who couldn't care less about girls, to suddenly pretend he has a girlfriend seems strange. But when he said it just slipped out to Cormac, I think he was thinking of you more than himself.”

She was right about Fred not being bothered with girls, he’d seen George mess around with enough of them that the aspect of a relationship probably seemed useless to him.

“Yeah I understand that, he was confronting him about me.”

“But… he could’ve said anything else. Why did Fred, think about you and his head immediately go to girlfriend?” She leant back now, satisfied with her theory. I hummed.

“Maybe you’re over-analysing it a bit?” Hermione did tend to after all.

“I have a gut feeling about this one.”

-

Harry came to check on me halfway through the day, telling us that Ron had been sulking all day despite Fred's attempts to apologise. Hermione went to spend some time in the library as I continued to hide away in our dorm, refusing to come out until dinner. Tomorrow would be a different day, I’d have classes all over again but luckily none with Mclaggen because he was in the year above. However, it meant I’d be matched with people asking questions, whether they knew about the night’s events or not. I now had a fake relationship to speak for, not to mention I needed to be somewhat happy about it too in order for things to go smoothly.

“Hi.” Fred said quietly, making Harry look up from his magazine. He got the idea and left us to it, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll see you at dinner y/n.” He smiled sweetly, each step echoing down the stairs. The twin shuffled over to sit on Hermione’s bed to face me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, avoiding my empty eyes.

“Fine,” I smiled weakly, doing my best to lie. I didn’t want him to think I was nervous.

“I cannot apologise enough,” He started, hands moving slightly as if he wanted to reach out for mine. But they went back to his lap, fingers tightly crossed over one another, I watched him clench them until his knuckles went white.

I felt like a toddler that needed watching all the time, like he wasn’t sure what to do with me or how to talk.

“Fred don’t, just- it’s fine.” I stood up and walked across the room, desperately trying to find something to busy myself with. I folded some clean clothes, his eyes on my shaky form.

“You’re nervous?” He tried again, his voice scratching the air. I nodded, not daring to turn around and face him. I felt pathetic alone in his presence, vulnerable to his gaze as I clutched a jumper Ron had given me one Christmas between my fingers.

My thoughts were scrambled but they refused to come out to Fred. So we were alone in the silence.

“Everyone’s angry, aren’t they?” I said, at first to himself, but when I peered over he was waiting for me to tell him otherwise.

“I am grateful Fred,I know you were just looking out for me.” He smiled, having been given the reassurance he’d wanted.

“We all are.”

I swallowed once, feeling the spit slide down my throat with a disgusting taste. He meant that as a humbling comment, to show that everyone else cared as much as he did, but why was I disappointed. Had I really been holding out hope that he wanted this?

“Do you need any time before we go?” I nodded, suddenly realising how much of a state I must have been in from the night before.

“I should probably shower,” The words came out meekly, like I was too scared to speak any louder.

“Okay, you can use our bathroom.”

Hermione and I didn’t have a bathroom big enough for a shower in our dorm, subjected to walking halfway across the castle each morning before breakfast. Yet Fred and George had been lucky enough to bag a room with a bigger bathroom, giving them an annoyingly better deal than us.

He checked that the common room was empty before letting me walk through it to get to his dorm. I had never been inside, the twins rarely using their room for anything besides sleeping and washing. They did share it with another boy, Lee Jordan, but as Fred explained he was never really around either.

I showered quickly, enough time to enjoy the privacy of the warm water as I shivered beneath it. Fred was waiting outside, that I could tell from his light footsteps as he paced the room.

“Ready?” The boy stopped walking when I came out, fresh clothes on and my others in a small bundle in my arms. “I’ll put those in with my laundry if you want?” I smiled and dumped it in his little washing basket, taking a deep breath.

He gave me a sudden hug, making me jump slightly. Fred wasn’t one for complex emotions, generally sticking to the safety net that was happiness and anger. I certainly hadn’t seen him hug a single person before without being coerced. Maybe he saw me as such a basket case, that he didn't even know how to react.

“I’m fine Fred.” I laughed awkwardly, patting his back and letting him pull away. For a second I thought he hadn’t heard me, because he didn’t move away, but then he coughed himself back to normal and turned to leave. Me following behind, more confused than ever.

-

The noise of voices in the great hall boomed louder than ever before, even from down the hall. Fred had started holding my hand the second we’d left the common room, chatting casually to me as we walked through the castle, people giving us looks as we passed them. I too wouldn’t have understood his change in demeanor, he had never been overly affectionate to anyone. Yet here he was, acting as if I was the only person in this whole school. We didn’t stop to discuss anything, or reassure one another, before walking into the hall. I feared that if we had done so, then that slight slither of courage I had would’ve melted away quicker than wax.

Fred’s smile was so natural as I peered up to him, already looking over at George on the Gryffindor table. They were all at our usual spot, watching expectantly as I did my best to ignore the many turned heads and hushed murmurs of surprise. My eyes were fixated on Hermione, who seemed to express a great deal of pride. I hadn’t even noticed that we’d passed Mclaggen’s end of the table, Fred’s body blocking that side so I never even saw him.

When we sat down, I shuddered at the feeling of Fred’s arm around me, which I hope he hadn’t noticed. It was strange, having someone’s hands on me at all times, even worse when it was Fred's. I’d seen the boy fidget before, it was a normal occurrence, but to be the one on the receiving end of his restless fingers playing in my hand was weird.

It was as if he wasn’t necessarily paying attention to me, but yet he was letting me know I was still on his mind. All without a single word spoken. It was nice just to see a different side to the boy, but I needed to remember that all of this wasn’t real. None of these feelings were true to Fred.

Ron ate his food in silence, refraining from looking over at either me or his brother. I ate slowly, mostly speaking to Hermione and Harry and avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the hall, especially him. George and Fred were keeping themselves entertained, which made things much easier for me as I realised that I had no clue how to chat normally with Fred. A fact that became evident as we walked hand in hand through the halls.

Some people congratulated Fred as he took me to potions class, most just whispered about us as if they were invisible. I stayed quiet, the attention mostly on him thank god.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” I smiled as we stopped outside the classroom door “I’m sure people would still believe you.” I whispered.

“Y/n.” He frowned, like I was a naughty child.

“Sorry.” I became very aware of him flipping out. Not even one whole day, and he was already seemingly sick of pretending. The boy looked around, eyeing up a group of Ravenclaw’s hanging out at the other end of the hallway and sighed, turning back to me.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.” He took my hand again, confusing me with a gentle smile.

It became apparent that Fred was a great liar, both to me and everyone else. He said goodbye, and I did my best to produce a fake smile, not that he would be able to tell the difference.

-

Fred watched her leave, noticing how uncomfortable her smile had been and wanting to punch himself in the face. Why was he acting like such an idiot around her? She was so easy to be happy around, but he repressed it, not enjoying the vulnerability she instilled in him.

He couldn’t deny himself the joy that came with the smiles, or when she held his hand so small inside his own. But he couldn’t let her know that, not ever. Because, when she looked up at him, those eyes so big and innocent, he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe from all the world’s evil. That was what made him weak to her.

She wasn’t ‘his’ in any sense of the word, not a possession like Cormac had described, but god why did he like showing her off to all the boys in her year. The same dirty guys that had confessed the things they wanted to do to her in the dark during a game of truth or dare. Thinking back on it made him mad, physically furious, he wanted to go back and kick them all in the mouths for ever defiling her that way.

It was wrong. Fred felt as though he was benefiting from something y/n had been so traumatised over, like he was her protector from Mclaggen and now she owed him the satisfaction of acting as his girlfriend. He had the nerve to revel in every fucking second of it too.

Fred felt as bad as her stalker. He felt as vulnerable to her as Cormac was, begging for her over and over until it drove him mad. He saw how easily love had turned his father obedient to his mother, and he’d watched Ron stumble over words whenever Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. Fred wasn’t like them, he didn’t need a relationship to belittle him as he’d watched it do to others. He needed to control himself, but it was so hard when he held her and felt what it was like to be under that trance.

She was most likely only being polite with him because he was just that little bit better than someone who broke into her dorm to do god knows what. He wished that she hated him, that she would scream and yell and tell him what a dick he was for making her do this. At least in that case, it would be easier to forget all that he wanted from her. It made him angry that she was so encaptivating, so furious that he felt the need to push her away.

That rage had gotten everyone into this mess to begin with, that anger had made him notice those desperate feelings for y/n that shouldn’t exist. Fred vowed to himself in that moment, he would do everything in his power to rid any attraction to the girl he merely owed a favour to.

-

Days went by, Fred and I agreeing that kissing one another on the cheek was far enough for people to still believe while not making things awkward between us. The boy, however, was becoming increasingly distant over the next few days. He seemed so calm and collected when we were around others, but the second we were alone he shut down.

His hands would drop mine as if I was the plague, no words exchanged. It hurt, knowing that it truly was all an act, contrary to Hermione’s theory. But nothing else had been hinted at from the start, he himself told all of us how much of a mistake it was. Now I had no choice but to believe him when he said that.

Each time he went silent, or grunted to me instead of talking, I was reminded of how many times he apologised. How quickly he regretted his actions, the second he’d told all of us that morning in my dorm. He never did it for me, I was just naive enough to think differently. Maybe it hurt because he was so convincing, he held me proudly and smiled as if I was the only person in the room. But I too was just someone else being fooled by a very good actor.

The only upside to it all was that Mcglaggen seemed to back off a bit, keeping the creepiness down to just stares across the great hall. It put me at ease again, knowing that I wouldn’t have to worry about walking into a room of flowers and gifts from someone I despised. At this point, he had to be yet another believer of mine and Fred’s fake relationship, thank god.

-

“I think he hates me,” I said into the darkness one night, unable to sleep and hoping my best friend would be the same.

“Who does?” She grumbled, drowsiness in her voice but not in her body.

“Fred.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You must’ve seen it too, he just ignores everything I say. Like he can’t even stand to be around me.” I huffed.

“Maybe he feels bad for you, he kind of forced it upon you.”

“It doesn't feel like pity… more like disgust.”

Hermione fell silent, searching her mind for a good response.

“Maybe there’s something else on his mind?” She explained.

“Maybe,” I rolled over and looked at the room from my bed, sighing and closing my eyes in another futile attempt to sleep.

-

I soon realised it was so incredibly stupid of me to ever think that Cormac would have backed off when I snuck off to the black lake one evening to have some time to myself. All I’d done for weeks on end was in the company of others, and it had started to suffocate me slightly. Hermione hadn’t mentioned our conversation about Fred, and his attitudes had only worsened over time, so I just decided to keep it all to myself. I’d snuck off while everyone was busy and walked to the water’s edge, watching the sunset.

It was peaceful, and refreshing to be alone. Finally, I could enjoy my own thoughts without someone interrupting them or the need to fill the silence between Fred and I. He had barely spoken to me all day, only putting on a smile at breakfast before going off to quidditch. Then he disappeared, not even turning up to dinner later on, which seemed to make some people talk as I prodded the food around my plate.

My mood’s were at an all time low, Fred’s constant rejection only pushing them deeper. I’d never needed his approval before, so why was I longing for it now? I hated that I wanted him to come and tell me he was sorry for being off with me. In reality, he probably enjoyed the one day without me around to bother him.

“All alone y/n?” His voice made me want to cry, the once bubbling anger had been conditioned into fear every time I heard him speak. I turned around, ready to leap up and run at any moment. Cormac stood smugly, arms crossed, as if he had finally gotten what he wanted. He had. Now I was all on my own, as he’d asked me already, and he could do whatever he’d wanted to since he’d laid eyes on me.

“What do you want?” I forced the words out shakily, only making him smile more.

He stepped forward and I scrambled to my feet clumsily, stepping back as he came closer.

“I want you to myself y/n, you’re wasting your time with Weasley.” I cringed at his words, if only he knew. I moved around him, trying to leave. But he would never give up that easy, he followed me up the hill with ease.  

“Stop it.” I begged.

“We’re meant to be together y/n,” He smiled, reaching for my hand but I just sped up. Making him jog after me. He wasn’t quite chasing me, neither of us moving fast enough for that, but it felt like a wolf closing in on me. “You can’t deny your feelings, can you?”

I stopped, for a split second pondering over the idea that he was talking about Fred. Then he smirked, that ugly god awful, gut-wrenching smile and I remembered that when Cormac spoke it was only ever in his own interest. So I kept walking, finally reaching the bridge to the courtyard.

“I’d love you so much more than he could y/n,” I didn’t dare respond, the tears pricking at my eyes. “He barely pays attention to you, I see it, there���s no spark with you two.” I hated that he was so right.

His words were impossible to ignore, even as we got into the castle with noises everywhere, Cormac’s rang out above them all. “Does Weasley ever touch you?” He asked me, that sick feeling increasing by the second.

Just the stairs to go, then I’d be inside the common room. Someone had to be there, and if not then Hermione was bound to be in the dorm. I prayed I wouldn’t be alone, I had no chance against Mclaggen if I needed to defend myself. I was fearing for the worst, his words unrelenting as he demanded to know intimate details.

“I want to be all over your body,” He whispered as I spoke the password, the painting swinging open. I’d never run inside so quickly, just to whip round to the boy following me closely. He seemed caught off guard, stumbling a little in his step.

“You’re a sick fucker, what will it take for you to understand that no one is ever gonna love you if you threaten them!” I screamed in his face, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I’m not something you can play about with, I’m a fucking person. Do everyone a favour Cormac and leave!”

I hadn’t spotted the three boys peering over at us, getting up in defense the second they saw who had followed me. Ron, Fred and George waited until I was done before coming to my side.

“There he is, your precious boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes at him and turned away again, not in any mood to deal with any of them.

“Leave her alone Mclaggen, she’s had enough of your shit.” Fred pushed the boy to the ground, towering over him with a foot pressed to his neck. He nodded, wanting to be let free and got up to rush off. I scoffed, but not at the pervert.

“I bet you’re so proud of yourself aren’t you,” I huffed, making Fred frown. He’d yet to see me mad, but it had been growing over time.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was dull, as if he couldn’t be bothered.

“You, you’re so full of yourself” I scoffed again.

Ron and George sloped off, deciding this was between the two of us alone.

“What did he say to you?” Fred tried to change the subject with a sudden gentle tone.

“Jesus why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

My face was blank with annoyance. He was so thick sometimes. He must know what he was doing, no one was that ignorant.

“You spend all day acting as if you hate me, out of nowhere, and then you do this. Play all protective and caring as if it’s normal. None of this IS NORMAL!” I was getting closer to him, trying my best to get him to understand from nearly half a foot shorter.

“I’m doing what we agreed, what’s the problem.”

“Do you hate me? Is that what it is, because tell me now and we can end this.” I laughed, wanting nothing more than to be far away from him.

“Y/n you’re mad over nothing.” He lied.

“I actually thought you could be half decent... but jokes on me eh?” I ranted, getting more and more furious by the second. I could see he was hurt, but my words were still riling him up and pissing him off. Fred took a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’s complicated y/n,” He tried his best to explain calmly, but I was too far gone.

“I get that I’m just charity work to you Fred.”

I went back out of the common room, passing Ron and George leant against a painting on my way down. They called after me, confused, as I raced down the stairs, but I didn’t dare stop. I needed to be away from them all, somewhere safe where I could hide from it all for a little while.

#fred and george #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley #fred x y/n #fred x reader #fred smut #weasley #weasley twins #ron weasley #weasley twins smut #the weasley twins #the weasleys #hermione granger #george weasley #harry potter smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fred weasley smut #smut #weasley smut #weasley angst #angst #stalker #stalking #hero

[whatanoof]

Cold Hands and Warm Bodies

Merry Christmas! This is a Secret Santa gift for @autumnleaves1991-blog!

There’s a sequel now!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader

Word Count: ~4.7k

Content: fluff, dancing, swearing, oral sex(female receiving), rougher sex, fluffy, smut, there’s a part at the beginning where Reader rejects a man’s advances but it doesn’t get past name-calling

A/N: I liked the idea of a lonely Christmas in a new city turning into something much better through unexpected events, especially since so many are going to be celebrating with less people than normal due to the pandemic. The music referenced is Gasoline by Halsey from her Badlands album.

Your parents had begged you to not complete the move over the holidays, surely it could have waited a couple of weeks so that you could celebrate with your family. But you were decided, and the timeline of your new employment was not up to you. Staying in LA for Christmas wouldn’t have benefited anyone. The confidential nature of your job meant you couldn’t talk about your job with your family, and that’s all that families really want to know besides if you have a boyfriend yet. This left more rumors flying between the aunts than bullets around a battlefield. At this point, you’re pretty sure that your own mother thinks that you’re a prostitute.

Alcohol is an easy option to curb loneliness. The drink burns on the way down, but you savor it. It’s been cold in the new city, and you haven’t been able to shake the chill since moving. Your current choice of atmosphere is the bar closest to your house, leaving you with the freedom to slam as many drinks as would let you forget how alone you are at the time of year when no one should be alone. You don’t have to drive home this way. But now, inside and looking around at the excessive Christmas decorations, you begin to wonder if this was the best way to avoid the holidays.

There are Christmas wreaths all around, draped over as many surfaces as possible. Mistletoe hangs near the corners of the cleared section of floor, and you wouldn’t be surprised if some of those corners were soon occupied by drunk dancers. Lights dangle over the bottles behind the bar, and the bartender is wearing a Christmas elf headband. And to top it all off, most everyone inside has a partner, making you stick out like a sore thumb. Your sole point of luck is that the bar isn’t Western based. 

“Well, hello good-looking.”

The moment is shattered by the stranger’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you too close for the small amount of liquor in your body. The brunette man smells like spearmint, but his breath clearly reveals his state of mind. 

“The name’s Grey. Now, I heard a little birdie that told me that you’d be coming home with me tonight.” His grin appears genuine, but something glitters in his eyes that sends an icy distrust through your gut.

You turn away. “No thank you.” Better not to give him any attention, drunks are never reasonable if you let them believe for even a second that they have a chance.

“Now that’s not very kind. I was being civil, and you rebuff a poor man who just wants a warm bed tonight. May I at least get the lady’s name so that I can address her properly? Where’s the Southern hospitality? ” You catch a concerned look from the bartender, though there’s no need to worry. This isn’t your first rodeo.

“Nonexistent, Grey.” You grab his wrist, yanking it off of your shoulder. 

For a blissful second, the contact is gone, then it returns, and now his fingers are digging into your bare skin. His hands are cold. The handheld taser in your pocket is burning, and you reach for it as he snaps, “Now, there’s no need to be a bi--”

“Hey now,” The new voice is sudden, but there’s a distinctive Southern drawl to the baritone voice that sends pleasant tingles down your spine. Now that is a voice that you could listen to the rest of the night. “The lady said no. And last I checked, Southern hospitality doesn’t apply when said person isn’t Southern.” 

The arm around your shoulders vanishes and you slowly reach for your bag. Angry voices echo behind you, but you’re too preoccupied with leaving to worry yourself with the brewing argument. Goddammit you had only come for drinks, and now you might have to duck out before a fight starts.

But the angry voices lower and the normal barroom din returns. You slowly release your bag to rest once again at your feet, and a new man appears on the stool at your elbow. 

“Good evening.” It’s the rumbling voice of your faceless Southern gentleman. 

He saved you, but that doesn’t mean you can trust him. Feigning disinterest is more difficult now, but you take a sip of your drink and focus hard on how the light from the glass catches the amber liquid. “Thank you for stepping up. Doesn’t happen often.” 

“Unfortunately. Mostly for the men if you end up pulling that taser.” The casual observation catches your attention.

You turn and finally look your gentleman in the eye. Oh. You weren’t prepared for him to be so-- gorgeous. That’s really the only word you can summon to your scattered brain at the moment because, damn. Dark hair brings out darker eyes that glimmer warmly in the lowlights of the bar despite the cowboy hat. A mustache accents plush lips. Tan skin and bold features draw you in, and you don’t want to stop looking except he clears his throat and you realize that you’ve been staring for much longer than the appropriate time.

“Is there something on my face?” Your eyes dart back up to his face and you’re struck by how unfair it is that someone can be so effortlessly attractive.

“N-- no!” Stammering, really? Dammit you’re a full grown woman, pull yourself together. “How-- how could you tell I’m not from around here?”

He beckons a finger to you, and you lean in. “I am an undercover operative working with an American based agency that deploys me worldwide to handle top-secret missions.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back to take him in again. The jacket over the tight shirt shows his athletic build rather well, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, “Really?”

“No. It’s the accent.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. The pleased smile spreading over his face matches the one sneaking over your own. “You’re right, I just moved here.” A thought strikes you, “What are you doing alone in a bar during the holidays? No family or friends to visit?”

“None left that mean enough.” The statement is casual enough, except there’s a tension in his voice that makes you hesitate. “And I could ask you the same thing. What motivates a lady to move to a new city, all alone at Christmas?” The tension passes and he waves at the bartender, who immediately turns and starts making a drink. He’s a regular here, apparently.

“A job,” You swirl the remnants of your drink lazily before finishing it, “I’m starting tomorrow.” The last dregs slip down your throat, and the burning buzz will last for now.

“Ah, a beautiful woman and a hard worker. It’s too much for my heart.” 

“If that alone is too much, then this is going to be a short evening indeed.” The subtle innuendo doesn’t fly over either of your heads, and you don’t miss the smile spreading across his face when you flirt back.

“I think I may surprise you, darling. We’re both willing to work for what we want.” His drink arrives, and he takes a sip. Heat pools in your core at the implications. “If this evening is going to continue, may I have the lady’s name so that I can address her properly?”

You hum low in your throat in response. You’ve never brought a man home at the first meeting, never allowed flirting to be anything more than that on the first night. But something’s different about this one. In a split second decision, you give it to him. 

He repeats the syllables after you, rolling them around his tongue in a way that sends a thrill through you as you wonder what else he can do with it, “Gorgeous. George, another drink for the lady, on my tab.” 

You tilt your head back, catching his eyes, “And may I then have the gentleman’s, so that I may know the name of my fearless knight in… shining leather and spurs?”

He laughs, “Jack Daniels.”

“Jack Daniels, like the whiskey brand?” 

“Something like that.” His grin is mysterious and seems a little too practiced, but that’s fine with you. You smile back anyway. Your drink arrives, and you raise the glass to Jack as you take a sip, though you find that the burn of the whiskey doesn’t leave you with the same satisfaction.

A song starts playing in the background, and you straighten up and glance over your shoulder at the dance floor. “Wait, I--”

“--love this song.” You both finish the sentence together. You look back at him hopefully, and he looks at you with a bit of a challenge in his eyes. 

The stool scrapes across the floor and he rises, extending a hand to you, “Would you care to dance, sweetheart?”

“Depends. Are we going to square dance?” 

“Only if you want to, darling.”

“Yes to the dancing, no to the square dancing then.” You accept his hand and walk with him to the center of the dance floor. Your drinks remain abandoned at the bar.

The bassy thrum of the music and crooning vocals keep your hips undulating against his, but Jack has other ideas. He hasn’t let go of your hands, and your arms are crossed over your chest when he draws them up and over your head. Your arms extend and you spin, meeting his eyes as you grasp his hands. 

The alternative pop song doesn’t translate perfectly to the style that he brings, but you can hardly complain. Around you, people are grinding against each other, but a small space clears for him to sway and turn with you. It’s surprisingly fun compared to what you knew of night dancing in a bar. 

The tempo slows and you step inside his reach so that your back is against his chest. 

‘Are you strange like me?

Lightin’ matches just to swallow up the flame like me?’

His breath catches hot and heavy in your ear as you press back into him, savoring every breath and drop of sweat that is your effect on him. The verse fades, and you allow him to lead once again. The melody swells in your head, drowning out everything around you until it’s only him and you. But this time the lyrics make you wonder about the man holding your hands.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

The music ends with a crescendo and a final spin, and you’re left panting as your gaze locks with Jack’s. He’s holding you firmly, one hand on your waist, and your bodies feeling like they’re steaming in the chilly air. The spell breaks with a single glance upwards from him. 

“Well that’s a fine addition to an already wonderful night.” There’s a tinge of amusement in his voice, and you follow his gaze.

The mistletoe hangs directly overhead. You glance down, a thrill of nerves running through your body at the intensity in Jack’s stare. Something must have shown in your eyes or body language, because he relaxes and loosen his grip on your waist.

“Only with your permission of course, darling.” He’s fighting it, but disappointment clouds his tone, and he withdraws. “I understand if it’s not something you wan--”

You cut him off by snagging his collar and pulling him close. The surprise on his face gives way to a smirk as you quip, “Don’t mind if I do, cowboy.”

Then his lips are on yours and you’re melting into him. The bar fades into the background and you lose yourself in a man that you had met three hours ago. He tastes like your drink. Tingles spread through your body as he deepens the kiss, warming you to the tips of your fingers.

Then you’re being pressed backwards until you hit the wall, hands instinctively flying up to tangle in his already messy hair. Something soft and firm brushes your fingertips, and you snag it on instinct, lifting Jack’s hat to plop it on top of your own head. He breaks the kiss, a soft smile spreading over his face when he pulls back to look at you. 

“Do I make a good cowgirl?”

“Looks better on you than me, darling.” He kisses you again, hands sliding over your waist down to your ass, and you don’t think that’s a lasso pressing up against you. A low moan rumbles out of his throat, and you stifle a whimper at the sound. He chuckles, “Want to get out of here, cowgirl?”

“Yeah.” Lust boils in your stomach. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his kiss-swollen lips that part ever so slightly so you can see his tongue flick over them.

“Got any friends to notify of your immediate departure?” His breath ghosts over your skin and his dark eyes flick up from your lips to meet yours, warming your body as you lose yourself in the deep brown.

“No, too new to the city.” You whisper back, the noise of the club fading into the background while a wave of heat crashes over your body, swelling between your legs.

“Your place or mine?”

---

Funny enough, Jack didn’t bring a car either, but he doesn’t explain and you don’t question it. You don’t regret walking the short five minutes to and from the bar, especially when Jack pulls you close to his side as you walk. You’re just passing under the bridge on your street when he stops walking.

“Stop, do you hear that?” You instantly freeze, eyes darting around for any perceivable threat. There’s too many potential hiding places, the shadows of the bridge supports could hide a man of any size and--

“Listen closely…” He hums the tune from the bar and steps away, tugging you forward a couple of steps. He pulls you back into him, and you’re able to hear the melody through the vibrations in his chest. 

‘You can’t wake up, this is not a dream.’

You find your rhythm. The tempo picks up, only a shadow in your mind as you sway to the invisible beat. He matches you easily, and the two of you move with an unpracticed ease out from beneath the shadow of the bridge into the streetlight glow. The melody swells, and you laugh when a breeze ruffles your hair. You sing the last line to him.

‘Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.’

You end up back in his arms, breathing hard and smiling up at Jack. His fingers slip down to interlock with yours, “I can help with that.” You should be freezing, but heat throbs under your skin in time with your racing heart. 

He leans in, but just before his lips touch yours, you whisper, “Jack? We’re here.”

His eyes shift over to your front door briefly, then back to you. He grins. “Nice place.”

---

You laugh as you stumble through your front door, your back hitting yet another wall when Jack pins you to the side of the living room. Heated kisses trail down your neck and a muscled thigh slides between yours. You shudder at the contact against your clothed pussy, your heartbeat throbbing between your legs fiercely.

“Jack, bed’s that way.”

“Oh sweetheart, that would be the end goal for sure.” Hands support your rear, and you fold your legs around him. You’re vaguely aware of him walking you towards the door that you indicated, but you can’t bring yourself to pay attention when he’s licking into your mouth and he’s so close and so warm and right there for you to enjoy. He lays you gently on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. 

“You want this?” The question is so starkly unexpected that you blink and sit up for a moment. He’s standing there between your legs, hair disheveled and shirt half unbuttoned. His pupils are completely lust-blown and his shoulders are heaving with the heavy breaths he’s taking, and you’re struck with the thought that this is the first time someone has thought to ask. But you’d have to be half-dead to say no now. 

“Yes.”

And then he’s undoing your pants and dropping to his knees in front of you. Warm breath ghosts over your exposed skin after he gently peels your pants off. You squirm as large, warm hands rub over your inner thighs. “Beautiful.” But he is too, with the way he glances up at you from between your legs. He’s absolutely beautiful, as he carefully pulls your panties to the side and drags his tongue through your folds. 

“You taste better down here, sweetheart.” He immediately concentrates around your clit, tracing lazy circles around the sensitive nub and you forget how to breathe. 

Your hips roll against his face, trying to gain more friction than what he’s giving, and you whimper as his mustache leaves a tingling trail on your skin. The heat pooling within your core is begging for more, and you’re close to doing the same as he continues to patiently taste you. 

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to make you feel so good, darling, you’re going to be screaming my name.” A thick finger rests against you, gathering your wetness and continuing to massage against your clit while his tongue finally dips to press against your entrance. You flutter in response, a whine scraping against the back of your throat. His tongue presses deep into your core, and you clench around the insistent pressure.

“Ja-Jack I’m go-gonna--” The words refuse to come smoothly, but he seems to sense your urgency. His tongue returns to your clit, sucking and kissing the flesh while his finger slips into your pussy. 

“Come, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Every flick of his tongue against your clit pulls another whine from you. Fuck, something inside you snaps and then heat is burning through your body. The wave crests, and you dimly hear a choked moan when your floor muscles convulse and heat drips from you.

He continues to taste you long after you’ve stopped convulsing, while the light fades from you vision and you regain feeling in your limbs. And you understand something. He’s tasting you simply to taste you, giving for the sake of giving. You know why you allowed it to get past the flirting stage.

“You doing good, darling?” He climbs up over you and kisses you, lips molding to yours like they were made to. He tastes like you.

You can’t respond, don’t want to when it means pulling away from this moment right now. The only thing you want right now is to stay like this, to stay in this perfect warmth, where the only thing you know is that he’s kissing you and you’re floating on the sheer feeling of being able to give because you feel like it.

Then he shifts, and you feel his erection brush against your thigh. And your gut tells you it’s his turn now. You move your leg, bringing it up between his thighs. It bumps against his length, and he tenses, pulling away and dropping his head to the crook of your neck. And you take the moment to flip the two of you, straddling his hips. 

“Give me a second, darling, have to find a condom.” His arm reappears from the edge of the bed with his wallet, but you stop him.

“I have an implant. Are you clean?”

“Last checkup, yes. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”

You smirk, “Well then I see no need.”

He exhales, arms going behind his head as he grins up at you, “I’d have to say, as enjoyable as that just was, seeing you like this?” He shakes his head, “Best part of the night.”

“It’s about to get better.” His dick is velvety hard between your thighs, and you can’t help grinding down on it just a little. 

“I’ll believe it when I feel it.” He groans, head falling back against the pillow. 

The challenge floats in the air, and you grab both it and his length in a single moment. He’s going to be saying your name soon. Notching it at your entrance, you sink down in a single motion. He drags against your insides so perfectly, fitting to you and filling you so completely. Your back arches at the burning stretch, but all you can focus on is Jack’s groan when your butt meets his hips, how his body seizes under you, and how his hands fly to clutch at you. 

But his cock inside you isn't enough, you need more contact, need to know that he’s right there with you. You grab his wrists and drag his hands up to your breasts, relishing the moan that escapes him as he squeezes them.

Your name echoes through the air, followed by his gasping breaths as you raise yourself off of him and sink back down. The heat starts building inside you again. His hips jerk up into you, seemingly unintentionally. “God, fucking perfect. Feel so good around me. Not gonna last, not after earlier, please sweetheart.”

You grind down onto him, finding your rhythm again. The fire inside of you is constant and overtaking you. It swells on its own without needing anything else besides Jack, who’s looking up at you like you’re the only star in the sky. 

“You look so good bouncing on my dick, cowgirl, but I’m going to have you under me, squirming for me while I get you to keep making all of those cute noises. I’ll be-- fuck!” His breath catches and his hands dig into the flesh of your hips, and a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You fight to retain your own rhythm, but it’s unsustainable, and your screaming muscles wear down in the face of Jack’s strength. They give out, and you’re caught in the rhythmic slapping of skin as Jack takes over.

“Ja- Jack! Fuck!” You can’t organize yourself enough to think, let alone acknowledge him while he continues to drive up into you. The ragged cries ripped from your throat lose all coherency. It’s too much, and the orgasm rising through your body is taking your mind with it. A hand detaches from your waist and presses directly against your clit, rocketing you further towards your climax. “Jack!” 

“Come on sweetheart, I know you’ve got another in you. Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Your own orgasm hovers at the edge of your mind, but you shove it away in favor of tripping his. His breaths are coming heavier now, and his hips continue to slam upwards into yours. He’s going to outlast you at this rate, unless--

A hand grips your neck just enough that you register the pressure, and he drags you down against his body. The world flips around once more, and then you’re underneath him instead and his arms are planted on either side of your head as he-- fuck. The pace increases, no it must multiply by some large number because your body is shaking with every thrust, and the headboard is slamming against the wall and you’re glad that you don’t share these walls with anyone else. Your cry is muffled by his mouth, but the new angle causes him to drive up against something inside you that you swear makes you see a corner of heaven.

It spikes with a fury, driving you over the edge as you clamp down around him. Your body seizes, arching against Jack as the shockwaves claim your body. You’re rocketed somewhere high above the clouds for the second time tonight, and all you can really comprehend is how happy you are that you brought him home. And through the haze, you faintly hear him purring in your ear, “Good girl, pretty girl, gorgeous. Gorgeous.”

He keeps fucking you through your high, and you need him to cum. You need him to feel the same bliss that you do, and you know how to do it. The idea barely crosses your mind before your body accepts it, and your floor muscles clamp down almost of their own volition. He falters, and a gasp is the only sound you hear before he’s coming. His hips piston out and in one last time, and then he’s spilling deep inside you.

When the light fades from behind your eyes, you feel yourself being shifted. Your combined juices trickle down your leg as he pulls out, and your back is pressed against his chest. You drift, blinking in and out of consciousness. You feel him rise from behind you and then hear the sound of running water. He returns moments later, and there’s a damp cloth cleaning between your legs before he’s back in bed behind you, arms locked around your waist and pulling you close. His fingers intertwine with yours over your belly, and as they brush against the skin of your stomach, you realize that they aren’t cold anymore. He drags the comforter over your bodies.

The world around you is dissolving in a haze of exhaustion, but his voice rumbles through the fog. You’re so comfortable and warm, and by all rights you should be asleep. But you force yourself back to the world of waking, enough to hear him thanking you as he plants slow kisses along the back of your neck. The delicious warmth of his skin against yours draws you farther under and stifles the confusion at the statement, and you finally surrender to the exhaustion pulling at your body. 

---

Your phone alarm wakes you the next morning to an empty bed. 

Realistically, you shouldn’t have expected him to be there, shouldn’t have hoped that it could have been more than a one time thing. Right? You’re a certified badass, a top-rated handler at Statesman Distillery who has guided multiple agents and friends through life and death scenarios. You deal in realism and pessimism. You have had one night stands before, none of which led to any kind of connection. You don’t need emotional connection to function. This shouldn’t be any different. Right?

Except you know how you normally feel after one night stands, and this isn’t it.

You’re on autopilot as you shower and dress for your first day. All you can think about is the warmth of his hands as they ran over your skin, his smirk as he caught your eye, mouth glistening with your release. His quiet ‘thank you’ last night as he curled his body around yours before falling asleep. If you could have had a say, you would have wanted more than one night. A second chance, maybe, but it’s not like you get many of those these days.

Statesman Distillery is across the street from last night’s bar, and the brisk air helps to clear your head and prepare you mentally. As soon as you walk through those doors, you’re Agent Seltzer, not a girl pining for a man whom you barely know beyond his name. You hesitate under the bridge on your way to work. The music echoes in your ears and chest. You keep walking. 

The receptionist directs you to your new office. Top floor, third door on the left. It’s roomier than your last one, though now you’re at HQ, not the LA branch office. A woman meets you at the elevator. She is slight, but her steely composure and short cut hair give her an air of maturity and ability. 

“Good morning and Merry Christmas, Seltzer.” She’s holding a basket with a label that reads ‘Happy First Day!’ “I’m Ginger Ale, the head overseer of the base-side handlers, and I’ll be giving you the basic acclimation on your first day. Sorry that it had to be a holiday, but an impending crisis in Chicago has just taken a turn for the worse. The mission briefing has been sent to your tablet.”

Your brow furrows slightly, and she continues as if she could read your internal question. “This isn’t usually my job, but it’s the holidays and most of the other agents trained in onboarding are on leave. We’re throwing you into the deep end on your first day, unfortunately, but your superiors at the LA branch assured us that you would take to it naturally.”

She sets the gift basket on your desk, and you notice the largest item in the basket is a bottle of the famed Statesman whiskey. You idly take it out and study the label. “Interesting first day gift.”

Ginger shrugs with a faint smile, “That’s directly from your assigned field agent, Agent Whiskey. He gifts those to his new handlers.”

“Any reason why?”

“He--” She seems to start to say something, then stops herself, “It’s an early apology. He’s experienced, and he operates as he sees fit. He burns through handlers faster than a hot knife through butter.”

The challenge floats above your head at the explanation, and you take it. “I’m assuming that I will get to meet Agent Whiskey before our official briefing?”

“Yes,” Ginger checks her watch, “In about… two seconds.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice is achingly familiar, and memories of last night crash over you like a heatwave. Second chances, hm?

Part Two if anyone cares for it

#pedros12daysofchristmas #smut #fluff #agent whiskey #kingsman #statesman #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #ginger ale makes a cameo and is a tired badass

[lachesis-games]

Trouvaille Short Story

m!Trouvaille

tw: swearing, mild violence

~

This trip started out very simple. Go into the forest, gather spell ingredients, then get out. Getting dragged underwater by a sticky horse was not part of the plan.

While the others were searching for normal herbs like tarragon, nutmeg, or wormwood, you and Antigone waded knee deep in a wide pond. Morning sunlight streamed through the trees, casting an ethereal glow on the water’s surface.

“Remind me again what you need curly pondweed for?” you call out to her.

The witch doesn’t look up from her task when answering, “They promote growth in spells. And encourage perseverance.”

The plant itself was plentiful. Too plentiful, as she told you earlier that it was an invasive species. But every time you thought you found a good stem, Antigone waved you off, stating that your pick was too dark or too old or too tough.

You straighten up and stretch out your aching back. Tedium aside, the forest was beautiful in the morning. Red dragonflies skimmed the surface, creating ripples that jostled the aquatic flora. The natural song of chirping crickets and croaking frogs sounded throughout the clearing. At the water’s edge, a few meters to your right, you can see a dark figure among the cattails. It’s wide, but short, and moving slightly.

When you get closer, you can make out the creature’s long gray mane and thick black body. There are mossy spots and algae strewn across its body. It looks like it lives near the pond, but something about it seemed out of place in the tranquil forest.

“Um, Antigone?” you try to keep your voice down.

“What?”

“Are there supposed to be ponies in the forest?” You take your eyes off the animal to glance at her over your shoulder.

Her head snaps up and she drops the flat woven basket she’d been holding.

“Shit!”

Before either of you can react, the pony whinnies, rears up, and charges you. You’re too slow to dodge and it rams into you. Instead of sending you flying, you find yourself stuck to its flank as it dives deeper into the pond.

The pond is much deeper than expected and every few feet, the water gets colder and darker. Light brown sediment billows up as the probably-not-actually-a-pony settles into the bottom. 

The surprise attack, along with your wildly thumping heart means you’re losing air fast and the creature doesn’t seem like it’ll surface any time soon. Your elbow is fastened tight to the creature’s side. If you can just get to your dagger!

You open your eyes and regret it. The sting of the dirty water only hinders you more. You can’t see anything more than two feet in front of you clearly.

Panic sets in and you thrash and kick, desperately trying to separate from the creature. Its skin’s adhesive surface clings onto you. The harder you thrash, the more you pull at your own skin and clothes.

They say to be completely calm if you’re ever being held underwater, but the proverbial “they” are stupid and clearly have never been drowned before.

Black spots dance across your vision. Your lungs burn and your head starts to ache. Great. The artifact wouldn’t kill you. Nor would vampires or werewolves or any other badass way to die. No, you’re a lucky one. You get to die via drowning, stuck to this thing like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

The pony flinches and so do you. It kicks up sediment in its panic. You get tossed around along with it until you feel a small hand on your shoulder. Sharp claws dig into you as it drags you away from the pony.

You can finally make out Antigone’s silhouette as she pulls you close. She presses her lips to yours. Air fills your lungs. Your vision and headache settle, and the burning sensation in your lungs subsides.

A blast of light breaks through your clenched eyelids. Her mouth is on yours again, breathing life into you. For some reason, though, she doesn’t do anything else. Just sits there and keeps breathing into you whenever your lungs start to burn again.

There’s a heavy splash above you. The cold sediment kicks up again and tiny bubbles pepper your face.

Someone hooks their arms under your armpits and the next thing you know, you’re being dragged up the bank of the pond.

Head spinning, you cough up what feels like gallons of water. In your delirium, you think you hear your name.

“There you are!” a familiar voice cries.

You rub your eyes and look up.

T.V. takes a step towards you, then stops. You want to tell him you’re alright, but Jackie grabs you in a bone-crushing hug.

Her clothes are soaking wet.

“We saw the basket floating in the pond! What the hell happened!?”

You hack more water and algae out of your lungs.

“Water pony,” you wheeze out.

“Huh?”

“Kelpie,” Antigone says through violent coughs. Despite her having been the one to save you, she seems much worse for wear. Dakota white-knuckles her hand.

“Kelpies are shapeshifters.” He pants, also soaking wet. T.V. is the only one bone dry. “They take the form of a pony or horse and drown people for fun,” he explains. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, “It dragged me down underwater. Antigone came to save me.”

Dakota’s eyes widen as he grabs the witch by the shoulders.

“You did what? Are you high?” he demands.

“Wait, hang on!” Jackie interjects. “What’s the problem here? She kept them both alive until we got there!”

Dakota crosses his arms. “The problem here is that Annie can’t--!”

Antigone cuts him off. “What was I supposed to do? Let the kid drown?” she rasps and shrugs off her knit sweater.

“Of course not! I just--” Groaning, he buries his face into her neck. Antigone allows the touch and strokes his hair gently. Her tired gaze flickers over to you. Jackie’s concerned voice steals your attention.

“Let’s get you back to the shop,” she says, holding a hand out to you.

You clasp her hand and the two of you pull in tandem. The moment you put weight on your feet, searing pain shoots up your leg.

The ground rushes up to meet you, then stops when a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle.

As soon as their fingertips make contact, your head erupts in a pain like someone took an axe to it. There’s a ringing in your ears and you cry out.

Whoever’s holding you lets go and you hit the mud, writhing in agony.

“I— I’m so sorry!” T.V. manages through his groans of pain, hands clenched tightly to the sides of his head.

It feels like your skull is full of liquid metal. The cool water of the pond is tempting all of a sudden, kelpie and all.

Antigone presses a cool hand to your forehead and whispers something in a language you can’t understand.

Your head is still heavy, but the white hot pain ebbs.

She crawls over to Trouvaille to give him the same treatment. His agony seems to decrease faster than yours.

Through your delirium, you hear her snap at him, “That was unbelievably stupid!”

“I know,” he replies, rubbing his temples.

“You know? Mistakes like that can be fatal. Do not let your bleeding heart be the reason you both die.” 

Carefully avoiding her eyes, he says, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” you protest through the pain.

“Shut up,” she snaps. “I don’t need one idiot defending another idiot.”

Jackie crosses her arms, “Very original with the insults.”

“I’m just calling them as they are. If they feel insulted, that’s on them.”

You clench your teeth, “He said he was sorry!”

“Sorry won’t bring back the dead,” she says directly at Trouvaille. Rounding on you, she says, “Let me take a look at that ankle.”

Your left ankle is inflamed and is taking on an angry red color. It must have happened when the kelpie hit you. The throbbing pain only grows as the adrenaline flushes from your veins.

She pokes an especially puffy part.

“Ow, fuck!” you cry out, hands grabbing onto your injured leg. “Why would you touch it!?”

“Punishment for being too slow to dodge the thing,” she deadpans.

“You think getting nearly drowned wasn’t enough punishment?”

“No.”

Thankfully, the poking ceases. A purple light emits from her clawed hand. She hovers over your ankle.

“Well, that is going to need a splint.” She retracts her hand.

“You can mend ribs but you can’t unsprain an ankle?” Jackie demands.

“For one thing, ‘unsprain’ is not a word. Second, normal treatment would take weeks. I can make it a few days. Any other grievances, hotshot?”

“Maybe if you were paying attention, oh powerful witch, you could have done something before it got this bad!” she shoots back.

The witch’s mercury eyes narrow. “You want to blame me for this?”

“I do. What are you gonna do about it?” Jackie takes a step forward.

“Don’t pick fights you can’t win, you little--” Antigone begins.

Dakota nudges her.

“We should head back.” They share a tense look, but she ultimately backs down. Then he turns to you, “Can I carry you?”

You nod in agreement. He places his hands under your knees and behind your back, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.

As he stands up, he takes on a comically cheerful tone. “Thank you flying Dakota Airlines! Please fasten your seatbelts and keep all electronics stored away until we reach cruising altitude.”

“Does this flight have snacks?” you jokingly ask.

“Check my pocket!”

You reach down into his kangaroo pouch and pull out a waterlogged 4 pak of Nutter Butters.

You raise an eyebrow. “You just carry these around?”

He shrugs. “I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re 25.”

“Okay? And?”

You chuckle. On the trek back to the car, you look over his shoulder to see sunlight glimmering off of caramel hair. Trouvaille strolls several feet behind you. He gives you a weak smile but makes no attempt to get any closer.

Reaching out for him, you beckon him closer. Not to touch, but you don’t like the wide berth he gives you.

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouths.

‘Don’t be.’

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead of coming to you, he speeds up to catch up to Jackie.

The few seconds that he’s near when he passes by makes your hair stand on end. You almost reach out to stop him. You don’t. You can’t. Dakota readjusts you in his arms. After making sure everyone’s out of earshot he finds your gaze.

“Try not to be too mad at Annie. She just wants to keep all of us safe,” he says.

You briefly wondered if he swallowed too much pond water.

“You make it sound like she cares,” you grumble.

“She does. She really does. You know how if you don’t socialize dogs at a young age, they have trouble with other dogs later on? She’s like that.”

Raising an eyebrow, you reply, “Would she be mad at you comparing her to a dog?”

“Not if you don’t tell her.”

You chuckle and look ahead to see the three of them walking side by side. Trouvaille turn his head slightly. For a moment, you lock eyes before he pointedly turns back around. Your heart reaches out for someone who won’t reach back.

“Hey,” Dakota recaptures your attention. “Sometimes the people we care about decide for themselves that we’re better off without them. Those people are amazingly stubborn, but we love them anyway. Probably because we like pain, but whatever.” Up ahead, Jackie jokes around with T.V. while Antigone keeps her distance off to the side. “I just...” you sigh. “I don’t know what I think. I tell him I’m fine and I’m not afraid to get hurt, but he still pushes me away.” “I think that half of it is protecting himself. You may not be afraid of getting hurt, but he might be. Give him space, but let him know he can come to you.” “Easier said than done.”

Dakota shrugs. “Just know that these things take time. And patience. So much patience.” You glance back and forth between him and the group ahead. 

“Why do you sound like you speak from experience?”

He grimaces, “If I said I don’t know what you’re taking about, would you believe me?”

“No.”

“Fair enough.”

Your gaze drifts between the trio in front of you.

“You can’t possibly--”

He cuts you off, “Wow, wouldya look at that! We’re at the car! Everyone please place your tray tables in the up position while we begin our descent!”

Trouvaille and Antigone are locked in a tense conversation. They stop to watch your approach until the witch mutters something and relinquishes her claim to the passenger seat. T.V. slides into the car without sparing you a glance.

#trouvaille #trouvaille game #ch:Trouvaille #ch:dakota #ch:Jackie #ch:antigone #snippet #some days you get snippets

[savagetrickster]

Sweet Poison (NSFW) | BNHA

Inspired by @bnhabookclub​‘s weekly nsfw prompt in the discord. <3

Prompt: “I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can watch.”

AU/Trope/Scenario: Coincidental Relationship + (my own) Dance school AU

*coincidental relationship (in this case) = a sexual relationship happening from chance despite being very unlikely

Themes/warnings: 18+, aged-up, explicit content (!), daddy kink, voyeurism, oral sex, mirror sex, dance studio sex, degradation, swearing

.

If anyone could match her temper and brashness, it would be Bakugou Katsuki. 

But that doesn’t mean she got along with him. 

It had always been a funny thing for people who grew up with them. 

Ever since they were as little as kindergartners in a tots’ dance school, she had always been the person who stood against him whenever he was mean to Izuku. 

She was constantly frowning upon on how he treated the other boy and never understood why Izuku would ever want to hang around with someone like him. 

Though ironically, it was common to hear their peers commenting about how similar she and Bakugou were.

Dominating.

Hot-headed.

Loud.

Two powerful frictions were what they were. Always rubbing off each other the wrong way.

A stare any longer than a second could become an unwavering match of death glares.

Brushing past each other along the hallway of the same famous dance school they were unfortunate enough to end up in could make even oblivious idiots shiver to the dangerous aura both emitted at the mere brief contact.

A word from one could trigger the other to demand a ‘shut up’ and escalate it to a shouting match colored with so much vulgarity that anyone who heard them would probably need to cleanse their ears, be it with soap or holy water.

They had always rubbed off each other the wrong way, but this was the craziest they’d been.

Who knew that one day this endless rivalry would eventually bring them before a fogged mirror.

.

She couldn’t really tell how it happened or even why it happened. 

An international dance competition she had signed up for was all that she had in mind and staying back at the dance school to practice had been how she spent her nights. 

And for the past few nights, her hardwork was executed in a room the administration officer had left unlocked so that she could use it after she was done with her part-time job.

It had never really crossed her mind, or more like she just didn’t care to know that any other students would be taking part in this competition until she arrived at the school on her third night to find the room lighted and occupied.

By none other than Bakugou fucking Katsuki.

Something about him always infuriated her without fail, with a blooming annoyance and irritation which would always make her particularly unforgiving.

It was probably the years after years of conflict that caused this to be built into her system. 

Furious clenches between her eyebrows and snarls on her lips were the default face she made around him.

But somehow for reasons she could not comprehend, a strange click in her happened while she argued for the room and he spatted a ‘fuck off’ at her.

Her eyes just had to wander and notice the weirdest things about him while she was fuming. 

She’d never really seen him in this state before - maybe she did but just didn’t bother because, in her eyes, he was always the young annoying brat she knew since little and wanted nothing to do with him.

But tonight was different. Being up close and spitting fire at him alone made noticing...anatomical things about him inevitable. 

Without his usual oversized tee or singlets, his sweaty sculpted body rippled to every movement. 

It was hard to miss the prominent waves of clenches ripping down the taut muscles down his chiseled six-packs to the V-line disappearing below the stretchy waistline of his black sweatpants. 

Under his tightened jaw jarring out at her, the noticeable bops of his Adam’s apple were distracting as they exchanged spats of demanding, awful words.

Being in a sports bra and a pair of fitting shorts, she didn’t miss the way his angry red eyes ran over her a couple of times.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that was why her knees and her palms were pressed into the cool, wooden floor of the dance studio, with her naked arched back accentuating her equally naked ass.

Wanting this but not at all at the same time.

Aroused but angry.

Relishing but spiteful.

Brimming with moans within her rapidly expanding chest but adamantly refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing a single one of them.

Her eyes burning into the gray bricked wall and her teeth biting down on her lower lips, pushing back any moans or whimpers threatening to respond to the two long, thick fingers inside her weeping cunt.

She could feel his red eyes boring into her, enjoying her struggle to keep herself from making a sound. 

Waiting for her to lose her footing and beg him. 

Knowing with smugness that he was good. Damn good at what he was doing. 

...That even someone who was as intense and stubborn as him would eventually bow down to him once he gained the upper hand, even if it meant needing to shove his cock into her some time soon.

“Feeling good, ain’t ya?” There was a smirk evident in his smug voice. “Admit it, bitch, your fucking pussy is literally soaking me.” 

She refused to open her mouth, knowing something would escape if she did. 

An actual smirk curled his lips at her silence, tad amused at her loud, tattered breathing.

“Oh wait, what the fuck am I doing anyway?” Bakugou eyed her with an anticipating calculated glint, “Why should I care if you feel good? You don’t deserve anything from me.”  

His fingers slipped out, splatters of her slick arousal flickering across the floor. A whine nearly escaped her at the emptiness between her folds.

Clad loosely within his sweatpants, his thigh muscles clenched as he moved to stand on his feet.

“...St-Stop.”

Bakugou paused, his knee he knelt on hovering over the floor as he glanced over with dancing eyes.

“Stop?”

Tongue darting out to lick his fingers clean, Bakugou resisted a groan at the taste in his mouth.

Fuck, how can someone like her taste this...nice?

His eyes lingered on her sopping cunt hungrily as he planted himself behind her ass to marvel at his work.  

“...you can’t just leave something half done, bastard.’ Her thighs under her shook. 

Leave it to this girl to remain stubborn. 

His lips curled wider.

That was something he liked yet hated about her. His feelings toward her had always been an enigma since...forever. 

She was intriguing but grated on his nerves. And he was sure that was what she felt about him too. 

Seeing her succumb to him had always been a dirty little wet dream he always thought about.

“Yes I can,” A scoff blew through his lips, “and I just fucking did. So deal with it, bitch.”

Today felt like the day to let it all play out. 

He made his move to step away, eyes fixed and breath bated for her reaction.

“No wait, please-” 

A pleading whimper she fought so hard to hold back interrupted her before she could stop herself. 

His Adam’s apple bopped with an elaborate, deep gulp at the broken sound drifting to his ears.

Shit, that sounded so... 

Bakugou shuddered to the chill running down his body, down to the tightening pressure in his pants.

Was she finally giving in?

“Please?” His lips parted to a grin. “Please what? Speak up, where did all that bitchiness go?” 

Oh, he was definitely still infuriating as always but fuck, she really needed him. Right now. Even if it meant giving in. 

Her toes curled. “Don’t go. St-Stay with me.”

Shaky exhale at the sweet crack in her weak, quiet voice, red eyes glimmered with a dangerous keen look, sharpening with an almost feral edge.

Tongue licking his bottom lip sensually, Bakugou tilted his head back and rolled it to his right shoulder in a condescending, lazy manner.

“And you think I’ll oblige to that?” A chuckle huffed out of his mouth as his hands hung heavily in his pockets.  “Beg me like a little bitch then.” 

An annoyed sigh sifted through her gritted teeth, feeling herself wavering.

And she did.

“Ple...Please fuck me,” Her heated walls quivered with impatience and overwhelming needs. 

It was too much.

He was driving her nuts.

She was driving herself nuts.

Everything felt so fucked up tonight, but she didn’t even want to give a damn anymore.

“I-I’ll be your bitch for today.” Her words gasped out of her in a whimpering plea.

A coat of silence echoed after her words.

“Fine.” Amusement cracked the grin on his face wider. “But you gotta call me Daddy. Now, let me hear it.”

Another sigh of annoyance blew through her mouth.

“Da…” Her lips trembled with hesitation.“...Daddy.”

“Good, but I’m not gonna do all the work here.” His eyes glinted. “Sit on your ass and spread your legs, I wanna watch you prep yourself for me.”

Bakugou toed his shoes off and kicked aside before moving to sit against the mirrored wall.

Back slouching against the cool surface, his eyes followed her movement with raw hunger. Meticulous to every detail of her body moving with her.

Her breasts shifting and lightly jiggling to her turning body, their nipples perking at him. 

The spread of her legs widening before him as she settled on her butt.

The red blush adorning her cheeks as her hand gingerly reached down to her leaking cunt, prying open her folds with shaky fingers. 

What hit him the hardest was the quiet, wavering look in her eyes he’d never thought he would ever see on her face, as if she was feeling...shy around him.

He couldn’t quite believe his own eyes. Shyness and her just did not fit but it was there.

Bizarre, indeed.

...that she could actually feel shy around him. 

A guy she bared her teeth at, almost every time she saw him. Like she would rather set herself on fire than have anything to do with him.

Fuck, something about this foreign side of her was so...sexy. He had to fight himself not to palm his erecting cock poking up against his pants.

To add to the sight, the soft moans leaving her parted lips and the soft, wet squelches made by her fingers were killing him. 

His red eyes looked even redder with heat and carnal hunger as he watched her reach her other hand up to cup her breast, tugging and rolling her nipple between her fingers.

Familiarity evident in her actions. 

Shit. Was this something she’d done a lot alone?

Bakugou stared hard, too caught up by her to realize that his harsh, raspy breathing was giving his arousal away.

Obvious enough to make her smirk.

Lifting her eyes from her working fingers inside her cunt, she met his gaze and felt a strong urge to tease him. 

While she was feeling kinda strange and shy about performing her usual masturbation technique for him, she was still her. 

A little reign of control was something she could at least do while being submissive to that grinning hot asshole.

“...Are you enjoying my little show, Daddy?” She spoke through her pants. “Do you see how ready I am for you?”

The smirk on her face grew.

Her fingers burrowed inside her slipped out to pry her folds open for his fixated eyes. “Look at how much I’m producing.” 

Through her slit, her arousal leaked and spilled over the wooden floor, growing the small puddle under her.

His widened eyes stared back at her, his muscles running down his body rippling and clenching hastily to his harsh breathing. 

The choked grunt he was pushing down slipped out of his grasp as a soft whimpering moan, cracking through heavy puffs of his exhale.

“...you little bitch.” 

Bakugou sprang forward and planted himself between her legs, arms tensing around her thighs to pull her further apart. 

A responsive sharp gasp rushed down to his ears.

His face was down quickly on her weeping slit, his tongue giving her clit a roll before jamming itself between her folds.

Lapping and gulping down her fluid like a thirsty person, a low moan hummed against her as he felt her fingers dig into his hair with a tug.

Watching him from above her rapidly heaving breasts, her eyes glazed over with heat as she watched him taste her with fervor. 

Her breath grew louder by the seconds.

“Li-Liking the taste?” Her hand ran over his hair, soft blond locks sifting through her fingers as she caressed his head with soft tugs. 

Pulling away slightly, a snort huffed against her cleaned slit as his lips hovered with a smirk. 

“Nah, I like it better fucking you with my cock.” 

Her breath hitched. “...You can do it now, you know.” She bit her lower lip at the thought.

There was a pause after her words. Like he was mulling over something.

“Very well, get in front of the mirror.” Warm breath of chuckles tickled her skin. 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?” 

“If I’m going to do it,” A crooked smirk curled his lips, growling his words hoarsely. “I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can watch.”

Clenching taut muscle on his back moved with him as he retreated from her parted legs to settle in a kneel on his knees.

This time, it was her time to laugh.

“Never took you for such a kinky bastard.” She got up and slipped past him to the mirror anyway. 

“So...” Her hands planted on the mirrored wall as she adjusted her position till her ass was stuck out. “...like this?”

She glanced down at herself and turned her head to gauge his response to her stance-

“I’m fucking sure I’m not the only one.” 

Her action came to a halt with a shiver as his warm breath shuddered across her shoulder, feeling his warmth radiate over her back like a coat as he appeared behind her.

“Look at you, already getting it correct.” 

His lips pressed to her ear.

“Someone’s excited to feel my cock in her slutty pussy eh,” His words ended in a taunting hiss. “...kinky bitch?” 

His arms snapped around her waist, one flying down to cup the conjunction between her thighs with his large hand, immediately greeted by a sharp gasp from her. 

The sculpted curls of his bicep rippled to his movement as he shifted her further away from the wall. 

To the point that she had to lean her weight on her arms probed against the mirrored wall- her fingers splayed and digging into the surface to support herself. 

In this position, her back was arched, accentuating her ass even more. The folds between the widened gap of her thighs stretched out right before his aching, swollen cock ready in his hand.

“I have to give it to you though,” He slathered himself between her stretched folds teasingly, “You’ve done a good job prepping yourself.” 

His eyes prodding hers through their reflection drank the sight of her parting lips at his action, the helpless sob feeding the heat within his grip.

“Won’t you look at that.” 

A whistle blew through his lips the moment his glance slipped down to admire how thoroughly coated his length was in her slick fluid- 

“...So fucking wet for my cock.” -with a hum of satisfaction in his chest.

His red eyes rose to meet her dazed ones again, his hand pausing to prod her with his cock. 

That and a stretching grin on his face was his only warning before his hip rutted forward, burrowing his whole length into her in one powerful shove.

She jerked forward from the force with a loud cry, her chest heaving and falling hastily in a drawling breathless moan at the abrupt, dramatic stretch of her cervix.

“...Fuck, your tight little cunt is as bitchy as you.” A strangled grunt rumbled in the chest pressed against her back.

Eyes rolling back in ecstasy, she felt him pull himself back, the vein on his thick, generous girth rubbing deliciously against her melting, throbbing walls as he drew himself to his tip.

A delirious whimper accompanying his movement as she relished in the sinfully sweet friction inside her.

But was quickly interrupted with a sharp cry spiking through her when he slammed back in.

And that started his relentless, powerful pace in her. 

Forcing tumbling moans out of her as his powerful thrusts hammered into with strong, rough prods. 

His heated red eyes watching her greedily through their reflection as his cock shot inside her at every thrust of his hip. 

The muscle curling on his arms clenched and ripped across his skin, along with his rippling body as he hiked her leg up by the crook of his elbow. 

His eyes drifted down to where he could see his balls slapping against her folds, his cock disappearing between them in a plundering speed.

The splutters of their mixed fluids from his fierce ruts were clearly visible. 

And when he returned his eyes to her face, shit - what he saw nearly made him lose the reign over his own building release.

With the sultry moans dragging through her panting, parted lips, the hazy heat through her fluttering blinks reflected back at him. 

Somewhere between the heat of each thrust, they had shifted closer to the mirror, close enough for her nipples to brush across the cool surface at every furious bounce of her breasts.

“Gro-Growing addicted to my cock?” Bakugou managed through his tattered breathing.

She responded to him with trembling whimpers.

“...Clearly.” He remarked mockingly.

Chest pressed flush against her back, his hand slipped up to cup her throat and tilted her head back till the side of her head met his smirking lips.

“Don’t come begging me for more after this,” His low, husky voice breathed into her ear, “...unless you’re ready to permanently call me Daddy, got it?”

Her eyes clenched close at his words. 

Oh, fuck. 

Along with those stirring words, his cock continued to pound through her between her struggle to form coherent thoughts. 

All they did to her was push her closer to the edge.

Her brain felt so heavy and slow, too saturated and hazy in the fast-approaching heat of her orgasm. 

She couldn’t take it anymore.

“I-I’m...”

White flashes met her eyes with every rut the thick, bulging girth pushed into her, straining her walls with wide stretches again and again. 

This was it.

His smirk widened. “You what?” 

She just can’t hold it anymore.

“I...can’t-” 

A loud sob wrecking through her throat as her pulsing walls clamped down harshly over his plunging cock, flooding her insides with rich juice of her arousal.

The choked moan dragging through his breathing mingled with her tattered voice.

“Shit,” Bakugou tried to speak, “...you sneaky little slut.” 

The tight muscles of his broad back and down to his taut ass rippled and clenched vigorously to his furious thrusts. 

The pleasure squeezing his painfully swollen cock was urging him to let go as he continued working his cock through her greedy clutching walls. 

“...D-Don’t you dare cum inside me.” Her words fell out of her as she tried to fight through the moans leaving her.

Her weak whimpering moans escaped her one after another in a hasty fashion as her body rocked fast along with his. 

A shaky snort left Bakugou.

“...Don’t be so fucking obvious,” he panted over her shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “you don’t deserve any of that.”

With that, his movement inside her grew faster. The need for his own release evident in the desperate, wild snaps of his hip, her butt cheeks jiggling to the slams against them.

Until-

“...Shit.”

With a loud throaty grunt, he tore himself out of her at the nick of time, bursting his load all over her the moment his cock was freed. 

Staggering on her quivering legs, she turned to watch him throw his head back with a long growl shredding through his throat as he sprayed ropes and ropes of his seeds from his cock. 

Her breathing was shaky and heavy as his pumping hand splattered his thick warm cum onto her.

She fixed her heated eyes on him, absorbing the sight of the agonizing pleasure showing on his face greedily into her memory.

Knowing this was probably the last time she would ever see it.

They had always rubbed off each other the wrong way, but this was the craziest they’d been.

But that doesn’t mean she didn’t like it.

#bakugou smut #bnhabookclub #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #mha smut #katsuki smut #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine

[lightlavenders]

Time for my Entrapdak rant (a.k.a. why Hordak was better for her than literally anyone else, a.k.a. I’m not bias I swear)

as I read through Entrapta/Hordak/princess gang discourse on this site I started to realise the reason why I loved Entrapdak so much in the first place, and I will now talk about that here (some of these points are stolen from better posts). ALSO no matter how much I shit on other characters just know this isn’t an attack of any of them. This is gonna be VERY ENTRAPTA FOCUSED.

OK SO we get introduced to Entrapta pretty early in season 1 and we get to learn a lot about her. It also quickly becomes clear that she’s neurodivergent - something confirmed to be intentional by many of the creators. Entrapta has a passion for technology, science and inventing, and (same as the previous princesses) the best friend squad decide they need her in the alliance so she can build them weapons (whICH SHE NEVER ACTUALLY DOES i think BUT THATS NOT THE POINT). 

Throughout the episode though, the squad (mostly Glimmer bc she’s the one who gets to closely interact with Entrapta the most... Adora being completely out of it and Bow with the kitchen staff) seems to slowly run out of patience for her - Glimmer very obviously puts up a front of tolerance despite her frustration. This is unlike the other episodes, where all the princesses get along in the end and become best friends oh boy! So... we have our only neurodivergent character so far who isn’t really welcomed into the group the same way as the others... and her autistic behaviour is only tolerated because they need her... okay, maybe that’ll change later.

Or not? When Entrapta joins the others on the quest to save Glimmer, she is constantly infantilised by the others and not taken seriously. She runs off to study Horde tech and actually helps rescue Sea Hawk, two very helpful things, but Perfuma talks down to her like a child and PUTS HER ON A LEASH? SHE’S 30!!! SHE WAS TRYING TO HELP! And no one tells Sea Hawk off for getting lost and alerting Scorpia to their presence, which wasn’t helpful at all. Then later, Mermista says she’ll keep an eye on her “in case she decides to befriend any more robots” like okay... she isn’t a child, and she didn’t run off because she wanted to play with robots or something?

Okay, so, Entrapta is left behind, which I won’t blame them for because it definitely looked like she died (they get over it pretty quickly but I digress), and she comes across Catra. Okay! Here’s a chance for Entrapta to make a true friend, right? Or not, because Entrapta and Catra’s friendship is built entirely on manipulation. At least Scorpia was sincere. 

Here Entrapta is again, in a position where she’s being used for her skills and in a we’re-sort-of-friends-but-I-only-tolerate-you-because-you’re-useful situation, with Scorpia probably being her only true friend at the moment. She starts helping out the horde, because they actually let her do what she wants and at the very least don’t treat her like a child. Then, she stumbles into Hordak’s lab.

I’m gonna say this now because I’ll get murdered if I don’t - Hordak is a bad guy. He does bad guy stuff. But so does Entrapta sometimes (I’ll talk about that later) so good morals don’t need to play into their relationship I think. It’s about how they treat each other.

At first, Hordak is very defensive and angry towards Entrapta, as he would be to anyone coming in to his lab without permission and discovering his secret portal project. But then she fixes said portal and he immediately sees her as an intellectual equal. Again, Entrapta has had to prove herself to someone by making herself useful, but it actually goes further. ALSO can I say how Hordak is the ONLY person who interacts directly with Entrapta who doesn’t treat her like a child or emotionally manipulate her, with the exception of Wrong Hordak, Emily, and Imp of all characters... Even Scorpia is guilty of this later.

So, Entrapta and Hordak start working together, and Entrapta is obviously very excited to have someone treat her as an equal (they’re lab partners!!). On top of that, Hordak is also happy to have someone he can actually trust. Catra and Scorpia at separate times both remark on how Entrapta spends all of her time with him now, and who can fucking blame her when he’s the only one that has literally spent all this time growing close to her and understanding her as a person, not just using her, not just tolerating her, not talking down to her constantly. Hordak opens up his trauma to Entrapta and she responds by opening up a bit in return, literally saying that she doesn’t fit in and that Catra doesn’t even talk to her anymore. They are obviously comfortable around each other, and if Hordak was manipulating her, then why was he so distraught when she was taken away? Why did he CRY??? Why did he consider giving up on his life’s purpose and abandoning what is essentially his god for her???

Anyway, stuff happens, and Entrapta shows that she isn’t the irresponsible child everyone thinks she is by agreeing to shut off the portal. But of course, Catra betrays her and sends her away. To die. How nice. Catra tells Hordak that Entrapta betrayed him, and instead of flipping out and turning all Hal Stewart incel “if I can’t have you no one can” he just gets sad... and then later all he really wants is to see her again, even if it is on the battlefield. I’m not sure what he would’ve done so we can’t say for sure, but I seriously doubt he wanted to hurt her.

sidenote - I’m not gonna blame Scorpia for letting Catra doing this, Scorpia had her own shit going on and was essentially trapped in an abusive relationship and she also later makes up for letting Entrapta down by getting her rescued

SO then the best friend squad go to save her from Beast Island, and she’s literally completely given up. Gee, I wonder why. Could it be because it seems like every friend she’s ever had has abandoned her, scolded her, or outright zapped her unconscious and sent her to die in a monster filled island? But the squad save her and affirm to her that they didn’t give up on her and that they’re still her friends. Actions speak louder than words, guys, but okay, cool! To Bow and Adora’s credit, they were the least patronising and mean out of anyone... so, that’s something. Anyway! Affirmations! Some respect from her friends! I hope this lasts... 

It didn’t! Season 5, Entrapta goes along with the others to help find out where Glimmer is. Here is where I quickly have to say something - Entrapta does indeed make some ‘evil’ and stupid decisions sometimes - hacking the black garnet, building robots that attack her old friends, walking out absentmindedly in front of a robot and compromising her team. Some of these things can be explained by her neurodivergence, but do not always justify it. That being said. Entrapta is not evil, she is not stupid, and her “weirdness” does not give her friends the excuse to treat her like a child. 

Here’s where it gets bad!! Perfuma puts Entrapta on a leash AGAIN!!!!!! WHAT? Writers? Wyd?? Not only this, but the others talk about her behind her back, and then scold her without any consideration for how she, as a neurodivergent person, was interpreting the situation. They could’ve explained their feelings to her in a calm way, instead of shunning her and expecting her to pick up on their cues, then exploding at her when they didn’t. THEN THEY CALL HER A BAD FRIEND.... and I feel hypocrisy in this chili’s tonight... and then Scorpia... doesn’t say anything? Girl help. Ik we can’t totally blame her since she was new to the squad and probably didn’t wanna get kicked out or yelled at like with Catra, but please... that is your friend...say something. also why did mermista need to pull her hair and then later say “you’re still a weirdo” like what. why do people ship them? because mermista cried when entrapta ‘died’? Okay??

I think Entrapta actually goes through some character development after this which is pretty cool - she outwardly expresses her concern for Glimmer, which is affirming to her friends the squad, and later at the end of the series, intentionally keeps herself focused during the most high stakes moment instead of running off. I’m not qualified to talk about if these traits, which could be considered traits of autistic people, deserve to be treated as flaws to be fixed, that’s a whole other bag of worms, but yay character development.

Finally, at the end, Hordak properly reunites with Entrapta and he decides to rebel against his creator and his purpose to save her life, showing that Entrapta, and their connection, is his priority now. And once Adora saves Hordak from Prime (thanks Adora), the two finally reunite in a spinning hug - that is literally the most physical contact either of them have had with anyone, how could anyone not believe in their connection and mutual trust???

Mermista gives us one last jab, an understandable one considering Hordak was conquering their planet for years on end, but still - “so, are we all just like, okay with this?” yes girl, we are. He’s literally the only one who ever treated her with real respect and love, the only one who ever prioritised her.

I know some people are gonna be like “just ship her with wrong Hordak” and if you really like that... go ahead I guess? But do we need to force a clone who just got control of his own mind into a relationship, or a girl who is very much in love with someone else into a relationship with one of her friends? You can do what you want though, it’s literally fine, I’m the one who just spent over 1500 words talking about why a 30 year old science woman should go out with an alien warlord.

In conclusion - Hordak and Entrapta deserve each other, because Entrapta deserves someone who treats her right, and I love her.

#entrapdak #entrapta and hordak #entrapdak discourse #entrapta #hordak #i had to include a megamind reference #She Ra #SPOP #big ol post #she ra and the princesses of power #i spent so long on this

[quietkatie1864]

The Mistake

The Doctor made a mistake and now he must set things right.

10th doctor x female!reader 

The Doctor made a mistake.

Now the Doctor usually doesn’t make mistakes, at least not any that he would outright admit to. He usually comes up with some complicated explanation as to how is mistake was not a mistake at all but a calculated plan. And sometimes plans backfire but that doesn’t mean that he was wrong.

But this time, this one time, the Doctor was horribly and inexcusably in the wrong. And he needed to fix it. He just didn’t know how.

He didn’t know if it was even possible.

He had made a promise. A promise to the most important person in his life. A promise to Rose. After the daleks and the cyberman, after the Doctor lost Rose, trapped in another universe that he could no longer reach, Rose made the Doctor swear to do one thing for her.  Before this rift between universes open and was subsequently closed, the Doctor and Rose rarely, if ever travelled alone. Rose’s best friend, Y/N travelled with them more often than not. The Doctor and Y/N did not particularly like each other, but they tolerated one another for Rose’s sake. If she was going to travel across time and space, then she wanted her two favorite people right by her side.

“Promise me you’ll take care of her,” and the Doctor did make that promise. He swore to Rose that he would take care of Y/N. And he broke that promise, even before he made it.

Now the Doctor knew exactly what Rose meant. She wanted the Doctor to continue to travel with Y/N, to show her all of the places that he had been planning on showing Rose. Rose always thought the Doctor and Y/N were good for each other. Y/N was always challenging the Doctors so called “superiority complex” and forcing him to explain himself instead of just accepting whatever plan he came up with.  And the Doctor was so good at teaching, even if he did get tangential every so often, and Y/N absorbed every word that the Doctor said, not matter how improbable or how angry she was with him at the time.

But, before the Doctor had even reopened the breach between the two universes, he had already broken this promise. The minute he lost Rose, the Doctor just left. He walked right past Y/N, weeping and sobbing on the floor for she had just lost her best friend permanently, and left. It was horrible and selfish, but at the time he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was leaving her alone and defenseless, far away from her friends and family, with no money and no way to get back to them. He was angry and hurt and heartbroken and desperately trying to find a way to bring Rose back to him. He didn’t care who else was hurting. Especially her. The girl who took so much time away from him. Who, in his mind, kept Rose away from him and kept them from becoming the couple they were truly meant to be. Now, the Doctor knows that all of this hatred and malice that surfaced for this girl was the product for his own self-loathing, but at the time he could not see past his despair. So, he left her.

Y/N was walking out of the small boutique that she worked at when she saw it. That big beautiful blue box that had been her home for so long that she almost forgot what a normal life looked like. For a second her heart swelled with joy. He was finally back. He came back for her. But that feeling quickly dissipated.

Three months.

He left her alone in a city she barely knew for three whole months. Without any warning, or explanation, or goodbye, he left. He didn’t care about her then so why does she suddenly think he’s changed his mind. It’s just a coincidence that he parked his stupid blue box right outside of her place of work. He’ll probably be embarrassed when he realizes this and run far away. Probably to the other side of the universe if he can. But she wasn’t going to let him do that. Not without telling him off first.

So instead of turning around and running in the opposite direction, Y/N marched forward, towards her former home. Before she could raise her fist to pound on the door, it swung open revealing him.

Y/N stared at him and he stared back. And then, the Doctor grinned.

And Y/N slapped him. Hard.

The Doctor reeled back and had the audacity to look offended for a split second. His face softened once it made hers. Y/N’s entire body seemed to be trembling from pure anger and sadness. Her lips were quivering, and her eyes filled with tears and threated to spill over. So instead of some indignant response or witty retort, the Doctor stepped aside and allowed Y/N to enter the TARDIS.

Still unsure of what to say the Doctor closed the door of the TARDIS and continued to stare at Y/N. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his jaw.

“I really deserved that didn’t eye,” Y/N gave a stiff nod, still refusing to speak. “Well then let me explain-“

“No,” Y/N snapped. “You do not get to talk your way out of this this time. You are going to be quiet a listen to what I have to say. And then I am leaving.” The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off. “3 months. You left me here for three months. I had no money. I had nowhere to go. I was alone and you left me. And don’t even bother with the excuses. I know you lost Rose and you loved her, and you hate me so why should you have to worry about me when your hearts are breaking into a million pieces, but you forgot one thing. I loved her too! Rose was my best friend and I lost her too. And you didn’t even care. You didn’t care that I was hurting, because I was just a nuisance to you. I thought you would have at least had the decency to drop me off somewhere that I was familiar with, where I knew people. But no, you have to go sulk in your giant blue box and feel sorry for yourself. And now for some reason you’ve realized that what you did was wrong, and you’ve come begging for forgiveness. Well guess what? I don’t forgive you.” The tears spilled over Y/N’s face. She angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand. “Now that’s all I have to say. I am going to leave now, and I really hope I never see you again.”

Y/N wrenched opened the door of the TARDIS and almost walked out into the vast emptiness of space. She would have if the Doctor had not caught her by the elbow and pulled her back into the TARDIS.

“What the hell?” Y/N grumbled. I was ready to make a dramatic exit. She thought.

“I guess the TARDIS doesn’t want you to leave,” the Doctor mused, gracefully sitting down with his legs dangling outside the TARDIS. He wasn’t going to disobey the TARDIS. At least not until he had made his peace with Y/N. With a huff, Y/N sat down next to the Doctor at the doors of the TARDIS, knowing that what was the blue box wanted her to do. She stared out at the stars in front of her, waiting for the Doctor to speak.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor finally said. “and I know an apology is not enough and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I’m going to anyways. You were right about everything. I was being selfish, and I didn’t care about your feelings and I should have stayed with you instead of leaving. But I don’t hate you. I have never truly hated you. You get on my nerves occasionally, but you know what else you do? You make me better. You help bring my humanity back to the surface, something I thought I had lost long ago. I need you. I need you to stay. I need you to keep travelling with me. I need you to keep me in line when I start to go dark. And you have no reason to keep travelling with me because I treated you so poorly in the past, and it was wrong of me to do that. I was wrong.”

The Doctor paused, waiting for Y/N’s response. “Say that again,” she murmured.

“Say what again?” the Doctor asked.

“You know what,” Y/N said, finally turning to face with a slight glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

“I was wrong,”

“You were wrong and I was-“ Y/N prompted.

“You were right”

Y/N giggled. A sound the Doctor hadn’t realized he desperately missed. The Doctor grinned back at her.

“I’m still mad at you”

“I know,” “And I still haven’t forgiven you,”

“I know,”

“Good,” Y/N stood up and headed towards one of the TARDIS’ many hallways, towards her room, towards her home. The Doctor’s grinned widened as he watched her.

No, Y/N had not forgiven him yet. But this was a start.

#tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor imagine #tenth doctor imagine #doctor who imagine #doctor who fic

[thewritewolf]

After the End Chapter 20: Safety

Finally safe for now from the Gentlemen, there are some lingering questions that still need answers.

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

The trip to Marinette’s house was a quiet one. There were definitely still henchmen out looking for them, but with Chat Noir’s transformation restored, they posed less of a threat to the hero than the city’s many pigeons. Even so, he kept them to the rooftops, helping them across when necessary.

Eventually, Chat Noir closed the balcony door behind him and turned around to face the three people who had saved him that night - Alya, Nino… and Marinette. The last of whom was still refusing to meet his eyes.

Why was that? Was she disappointed that it was him? Or angry that he had lied about where Adrien was? Or did she feel he’d taken advantage of her kindness, despite him knowing her outside the mask this whole time?

Maybe he’d be upset too, if their situations had been reversed.

Nino was the first to collapse onto the couch, and almost on cue the rest of them followed suit - Alya taking up the other spot on the couch, leaning forward, elbows on her knee. Marinette sat in her rocking chair, and Chat Noir sprawled out on the floor.

For a few long minutes, they just sat there and decompressed. In the bright light of Marinette’s apartment, it was hard to believe that not too long ago he’d been in the belly of the beast, held against his will by some sort of shadowy organization. And now here his friends were, saving him again. Masks or not.

He had the urge to drop his transformation then and there. They had definitely earned it at that point. But something stopped him - whether it was fear at their potential anger or concern that it might draw them even further into this fight, he wasn’t sure.

Instead, he asked a question. “How did you guys know where to go? I’m grateful and all but… I doubt you were just happening by.”

Alya shared a brief look with Nino before opening up her heavy winter jacket. His jaw dropped when he saw two kwamis floating there. Sass, he recognized immediately. The other looked like they were based on a fox, so Chat assumed that had to be Trixx.

“These little dudes popped outta nowhere while we were chillin’ out on a jog,” Nino said, jabbing a thumb at them. “Said that Chat Noir and our bro Marinette could use a helpin’ hand.”

“Hello!” Trixx excited zoomed in front of Chat’s face, eyes wide and curious. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Chat Noir. While my chosen has fought alongside you,” he circled Alya’s head, “this is the first time I’ve gotten to meet you face to face.”

Chat frowned as he looked at the kwami. “Shouldn’t you be with Ladybug right now?”

Trixx and Sass exchanged a glance before the latter replied, “You sssee, Ladybug knew that it would be unwissse to go herssself, ssso ssshe sssent us to find aid.”

“And why would it be unwise?” Chat crossed his arms in front of him. Frustration bubbled up inside him - had Ladybug been keeping tabs on him this whole time? Why hadn’t she tried to reach out to him? He would’ve loved to have her input on this mystery. “Clearly she knew that I was going to be in trouble.”

“Well… what if they wanted both your miraculous, like Hawkmoth did?” Alya offered. “And popping up out of the blue after so long off the grid would be very suspicious if they were keeping an eye out for her.”

“Maybe.” Chat Noir pinched the bridge of his nose. “But then we wouldn’t have three civilians getting mixed up in something dangerous like this. We’ve taken risks before - and I’ve certainly put myself on the line for Ladybug.”

“I’m sure Ladybug had her reasons,” Nino said. He reached over to punch Chat’s shoulder encouragingly. “And hey, cat-dude! We won anyway. What’s the big deal?”

Chat clenched his jaw and glanced at Marinette, who quickly looked away. There was a long silence in the room, with Alya and Nino shifting comfortably in their seats as it drew out.

Eventually, Chat couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up and moved toward the balcony.

He got a few steps before something had snagged his wrist. When he looked down, he saw Marinette looking back up at him. There was an unreadable look in her eyes, but he could almost swear he saw a glimmer of sadness there.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

Chat Noir stared at her for a long moment before nodding.

He didn’t want to do much talking right now anyway. All he really wanted to do was lay down and sleep, dreamlessly.

But he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Marichat #Alya Cesaire #Nino Lahiffe #ml fanfiction #my writing #After the End

[obaewankenope]

The Second Life of Sandu Shengshou

Thanks to a dream I had several nights ago, I ended up writing this. It’s the beginning of a Multi-chaptered fic that can be read on AO3 here. I’m not even remotely sorry for this.

Not in the slightest. 

One

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is a day that the entire cultivation world remembers. For them, the passing of the Jiang Sect Leader is an event not to be ignored or celebrated. It is a day to remember his amazing deeds; losing his entire Sect to the Wen and then rebuilding it from the ground up; becoming a living legend during the Sunshot Campaign; fighting and killing the Yiling Laozu; raising the son of his beloved A-Jie into a fine young man who took the mantle of Jin Sect Leader well; being part of revealing the truth of Jin Guangyao’s deceit to the entire cultivation world; fighting fierce corpses and holding demonic cultivators to account for their crimes.

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is one to remember his deeds and those of his brother, the last of his family beside the Sect Leader Jin.

For Sect Leader Jiang, it’s just another day of enduring a tired soul and a damaged heart, pasted back together with anger and grief. He expects the day to end with his finally seeing his family and those of his Sect who died in the Wen attack, again.

He closes his eyes, takes his last breath, and lets go. The heavens greet him and Jiang Cheng sees his family once more.

He doesn’t expect to take another breath until his next reincarnation which will hopefully be happier than his current one has been.

Jiang Cheng does not expect to cough dusty air from his lungs and open his eyes to the sight of a fierce corpse intent on killing him.

Instinct honed by battle and years of training serve him well as Jiang Cheng kicks out at the corpse, sending it careening back with an application of spiritual energy. His hand scrambles for his sword, for Zidian but finds only dirt. He has no weapon but his body and his core.

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. So be it.

He jumps to his feet, stumbling when the strength of his core seems greater than his body can handle, but recovers well enough to drop into a open-handed stance. The corpse moves toward him at speed and, just as it is close enough for Jiang Cheng to strike, somebody slams into it and away from him.

In the moment it takes Jiang Cheng to register the identity of the person who just barrelled into a fierce corpse, a half-dozen purple-robed cultivators appear from the darkness of what he realises are trees. He’s in a forest. The humidity in the air tells him its a Yunmeng forest, but figuring out where he is suddenly isn’t important anymore when he gets a glimpse of some of the faces of the cultivators.

_He recognises them. _

Shidi’s he’d seen slaughtered by Wen-dogs. His disciples, his responsibility and here they are; coming to his rescue like he was a child again.

Is this his heaven?

Jiang Cheng looks around. He’s in a small clearing, ground recently disturbed by what he assumed had been the fierce corpse rising. A glimmer of silver on the ground reveals Sandu’s location and he immediately picks it up, relieved to have it in his grip again.

Everything is easier with Sandu.

“Drop it Corpse!”

Jiang Cheng looks in the direction of the fierce corpse that had attacked him, expecting it to be holding something, but it was down on the ground, pinned by a very, very familiar blade.

His father’s.

That was his father’s sword. That meant-

“I said, drop it!” Someone shouts. Fifth shidi, Jiang Cheng guesses, judging by the tone.

He looks at the children he’d seen die once, and realises, with a jolt, that fifth shidi is talking to him!

“What? I’m not a corpse!” Jiang Cheng exclaims and then almost let’s out a surprised shout because his voice—his voice.

He sounds like a child! 

Jiang Cheng looks down at his hands gripping Sandu. Those are not the hands of a Sect Leader of one-hundred-and-three years. Those are- those-

“A fierce corpse cannot speak.” His father’s voice, the voice of Jiang Fengmian. “My son is dead, who are you to use his body so?”

Pingheng glows a pale violet in his father’s grip and Jiang stares at his father, open mouthed.

“What?”

Jiang Fengmian’s face looks like it’s carved from ice with no emotion to speak of. He looks more like Hanguang-Jun than the father Jiang Cheng remembers.

It’s incredibly disconcerting.

“I’m not- but- what!”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand what is happening. If this is heaven for him until he reincarnates then it sucks.

“Who are you?” Jiang Fengmian’s voice grows as cold as his expression and Jiang Cheng realises that it wasn’t just his mother that he got his temper from. His father’s is colder, but no less intense.

“I’m Jiang Cheng!” He is and he doesn’t understand what is happening but he’s not going to be anyone but himself. But that doesn’t mean he can’t improvise.

A childhood spent growing up with Wei Wuxian and then being the youngest Sect Leader during a war taught Jiang Cheng a lot. Mainly that he can bullshit just as good as his brother is he really, really needs to.

“I have- I’ve been sent back!” He exclaims, holding Sandu and pushing his spiritual energy into it to make the blade glow a deeper purple than his father’s blade. “I have come back from the heavens to protect the Sect! I swear on my sword and my core!”

Wei Wuxian would be proud of his attempt to not get attacked by his own father and shidi’s. Speaking of Wei Wuxian…

“Why should I believe you?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t splutter in shock but it’s a near thing. He has no idea why his father should believe him be abuse Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what’s going on but he doesn’t want to die in the afterlife. That would just be embarrassing.

“I don’t know!” Jiang Cheng exclaims in frustration. “You never paid me any attention when Wei Wuxian was all you ever cared about!” There’s a ripple of surprise in the group of disciples and even his father’s face shows a crack in the stone facade at the jab at his father’s favouritism. “Honestly, I’m over it! But it’s not like you know enough about me for me to give you a reason to believe me in the first place!”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Believe what you want, I don’t care.”

He has spent literal decades coming to terms with his father’s lack of favour for him and his mother’s general disappointment in him. He’s over it.

“A-Cheng.”

Pingheng drops to the ground and Jiang Cheng finds himself wrapped in an embrace he barely remembers. His father is real and solid and clinging to him with the same kind of desperate relief that Jiang Cheng clung to Wei Wuxian all those months after Lotus Pier was destroyed.

It’s the kind of embrace that is full of emotions that can’t be said aloud.

He doesn’t drop Sandu—he’s not his father and he fought in a war, he won’t drop his weapon—when he wraps his much smaller arms around his father’s chest and clings right back.

Jiang Cheng has no idea what’s going on but his father is weeping silently as he holds him and Jiang Cheng can’t remain emotionally distant from that. He just can’t.

Apparently, this afterlife has him dead as a child and his family and Sect have mourned him. What this means, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know, doesn’t really care, because right now he’s in his father’s arms for the first time since he was a small child and that’s more important than figuring out what the hell is going on.

One thing Jiang Cheng knows is a priority however is to find out where his shixiong is. Wei Wuxian will have some idea of what is happening; he always does.

Although he’s expecting it, the sight of Lotus Pier as he remembers it from his childhood is disorienting enough that Jiang Cheng wobbles on Sandu as they come in to land. His father reaches out to steady him, close enough to do so with ease and he’s been hovering around Jiang Cheng since he accepted his son is somehow alive again.

Jiang Cheng steadies himself and dismounts Sandu smoothly, and looks around his home with a more open expression than he intends to have judging by the look his father is giving him. He would hide it, the emotions he feels looking at Lotus Pier as it was before the Wen attack, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to. He’s spent one lifetime hiding his feelings, he refuses to spend another doing the same.

Not when he understands how precious this time is.

Of course, his emotional journey at seeing his home unharmed is ruined by the sound of his mother’s voice, loud and very angry-sounding, rapidly approaching.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t sigh because he loves his mother, he does, but she was such a bitter, angry woman who had taught Jiang Cheng to fear showing his soft-side to those who mattered most to him. The Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng remembers was one consumed by resentment toward her husband for bringing home an orphan that was the son of two people her husband loved. After raising his nephew, Jiang Cheng can’t accept his mother’s behaviour as anything but motivated by spite and hate. Perhaps pain.

Whatever this afterlife is for him, it’s giving Jiang Cheng the chance to right wrongs to his family and his brother then, by the heavens, he’s going to take it!

“What do you think you’re doing, Jiang Fengmian: leaving me with that child! He’s useless!”

Jiang Cheng has no clue what his mother is angry about precisely but he knows exactly who she’s talking about. Wei Wuxian. And where his shixiong is, his A-jie isn’t far behind.

It’s unbecoming of him to break into a run, leaving his father and shidi’s where they landed, but Jiang Cheng’s priorities are his siblings. Seeing his mother would be nice in that distant way seeing someone he once valued the opinion of, but he’s lived so long now without her that Madam Yu is less a priority than his siblings.

That’s probably an uncharitable thing to think about his mother but, well, Jiang Cheng won’t lie about the fact that A-jie definitely did more mothering of him and Wei Wuxian than Madam Yu ever did.

Resenting your children because you resent your husband is definitely not a sound basis upon which to build a family, let alone a Sect. Jiang Cheng can admit that, even if it’s only to himself.

The sight of his mother heading straight toward the landing point is a nice sight nonetheless. The last he saw of his mother, she had been fighting Wen Zhuliu with the fierceness she had shown all Jiang Cheng’s life. Seeing her in her prime is something he wishes he’d treasured when he’d had the chance. He has the chance again.

“Mother!” He exclaims, smiling in a way he hasn’t ever smiled at her before. He loves her still; she’s his mother.

His smile is ripped away when Madam Yu let’s out a cry of what sounds like horror and Zidian arcs out in a crackling purple chord that smashes into Jiang Cheng and sends him crashing into boxes of lotus seeds.

Shaking the dizziness from his head, Jiang Cheng realises that if his father thought him dead then it would stand to reason that his mother would have too. His mother of the Meishan Yu. He’s lucky he still has his head_ attached to his body_.

“Ziyuan! Stop!” His father shouts and Jiang Cheng looks up to see his mother with her blade drawn moving toward him with deadly intent.

Right. The whole ‘dead thing’.

“He’s alive! A-Cheng is alive!”

Madam Yu’s approach falters at those words but there are tears in her eyes and a determined, grief-stricken expression on her face that tells Jiang Cheng that his mother is not going to stop.

She must think he’s a conscious corpse like Wen Ning!

Talking to his mother when she’s like this is about as useful as talking to Wei Wuxian into not abandoning him for the Wen remnants had been. So Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother.

He vaults up from where he’s still sort of kneeling among broken boxes of lotus seeds, drawing Sandu and parrying Zidian as it tries to throw him off his feet again.

Jiang Cheng focuses on his mother to the exclusion of all else, though he doesn’t lose the awareness battle dried into him of his surroundings. He needs to fend his mother off and falling into the lake would not help with that.

Fighting his mother is a little bit like the one time Jiang Cheng spared with Nie Mingjue but without the pressure of not making an utter fool of himself. No, the pressure here is not having his head separated from his body by his mother.

Jilie, his mother’s sword, is as fierce as its master, but Jiang Cheng has more years of battle under his belt than his mother and father both. Sandu was more than a match for Jilie but Zidian was still a problem.

Parrying her attacks, Jiang Cheng focused on defending himself rather than attacking his mother; distantly registering the sound of his father calling for his mother to stop, for Jiang Cheng to stop.

Jiang Cheng will stop when his mother stops.

The problem with fighting his mother is that Jiang Cheng has grown used to fighting with Zidian, not against it, and it makes it difficult to handle both Jilie and Zidian at the same time. Eventually his luck at dodging Zidian will run out, he knows that.

When it does, he’s not surprised. Jilie and Sandu are locked and Jiang Cheng can’t disengage fast enough to avoid Zidian arcing around to slice into his neck. The only thing he can do is let it injure his arm instead.

The spark of pain from Zidian wrapping around his forearm is enough to have Jiang Cheng curse and snap at the spiritual weapon with his own spiritual energy.

He doesn’t expect Zidian to unfurl from his arm and instead settle around his wrist, violet sparking disappearing as the weapon goes inert.

That, more than anything, has both his mother and him stop dead.

Jiang Cheng stares at Zidian wrapped around his wrist. “What the fuck?”

In hindsight, saying anything was probably a bad idea but swearing was the worst idea ever.

Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian both state at him with near identical looks of disapproval at his profanity which is just hilarious, really. Jiang Cheng’s entire political history is cursing, shouting, threats of violence, and profanity.

Still, he is somewhere around twelve and twelve-year-olds do not battle their mothers to a stand still and curse. But, this is Jiang Cheng’s afterlife so he can do what he wants, parental disapproval be damned.

Whether it’s his swearing, his father’s words finally penetrating his mother’s battle focus, or the fact that Zidian has in fact decided Jiang Cheng is fine, Yu Ziyuan pulls away from Jiang Cheng and studies him with a more open expression than he’s ever seen on his mother.

“Jiang Cheng?” Hearing his mother say his name so tentatively, sounding so uncertain, is just another surprise on top of more surprises.

He nods warily, unsure if his mother will start shouting at him for swearing, fighting her, or whatever other reason madam Yu can no doubt think of. Jiang Cheng certainly doesn’t expect his mother to drop her sword and drag him into a hug.

He can literally count on one hand how many times he’s been hugged by his mother. This makes hug number three; and he’s including the hugs from his previous life too.

Madam Yu doesn’t cry like Jiang Fengmian did but there’s a slight shaking to her shoulders that tells Jiang Cheng that she probably would if she ever allowed herself to be that emotionally vulnerable. His father approaches carefully, as mindful of his wife’s temper as ever, and gently joins the embrace; an arm around his wife and Jiang Cheng each.

This, this Jiang Cheng has never experienced. Both of his parents embracing him at the same time. The dashed wishes of the child that Jiang Cheng was long ago rise up and have him clinging to his parents with a desperation he doesn’t expect of himself. He’d reconciled his parents memory with his own failings long ago; he doesn’t need this from them but… It’s nice.

Jiang Cheng deserves nice things after all the crap he’s lived through.

The reunion with A-Jie and Wei Wuxian is either going to be wonderful or possibly worse than his mother realising he’s not dead. Jiang Cheng honestly doesn’t know which it’s going to he but he strongly suspects it’s going to involve a lot of shouting and crying at the least.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t pride himself on being right about things like Wei Wuxian always had, but he’s a little proud of himself for guessing rightly about the shouting and tears. He’s less proud when the source of shouting is his sister and tears is his brother.

Mostly because he doesn’t know how to handle either of those things separately, let alone at the same time.

Jiang Cheng feels perfectly justified in mumbling the same excuse he gave his father to A-Jie as she gives him the same look Madam Yu always gave him; expectant. At least, Jiang Yanli expects an explanation whereas his mother expected perfection.

Wei Wuxian is, in comparison to A-Jie near catatonic, clinging to Jiang Cheng the way he used to whenever someone mentioned dogs or he saw one. It’s terror and fear and a desperate, desperate need for comfort. Jiang Cheng, after literal decades spent trying to be less emotionally constipated, complies readily and pulls his shixiong into a hug that buries Wei Wuxian’s head against his chest.

Jiang Cheng used to do that with A-Ling all the time when his nephew was young and needed comfort after a nightmare. The experience comes in handy with his brother.

“I’m sorry, A-Jie, I didn’t plan on dying in the first place, let alone being thrown back by the heavens to protect the Sect,” Jiang Cheng says and there’s more sarcasm to his words than there should be considering the way his sister actually glares at him. “I’m sorry for hurting you all.”

A-Jie’s glare softens at those words. Jiang Cheng means them for a lot more than just being dead in his afterlife here. He means them for failing his sister and her husband, for not being a better uncle, for pushing Wei Wuxian away, for being so ignorant that he didn’t even realise his core was actually his brothers…

Jiang Cheng is sorry for a lot of things.

“You are forgiven A-Cheng,” A-Jie tells him, smiling at last as she joins Wei Wuxian in hugging Jiang Cheng. “Do not do it again.”

“I definitely don’t plan to, no,” Jiang Cheng promises, smiling despite himself because he has his siblings again. They’re alive and safe and though they’ve been grieving him, he knows they’ll be happy again soon enough.

And he’s going to keep them that way. Even if he has to go and kill Wen Ruohan himself at the tender age of twelve. Possibly Jin Guangyao- wait, it’d be Meng Yao still. Su She too, maybe.

Jiang Cheng sighs into his siblings embrace. He’s going to have to write a list.

The years of being a Sect Leader with no family and a newly rebuilt Sect will come in handy now that Jiang Cheng is going to have to single-handedly organise protection of Lotus Pier and possibly kill several cultivators without getting caught. He can do it, he’s of Yunmeng Jiang, but it’s going to be annoying with Sect Heir duties.

Judging by the hair pierce and robes Wei Wuxian wears, Jiang Cheng figures his father made him the Sect Heir after Jiang Cheng’s… Demise. Of course, Wei Wuxian would be a wonderful Sect Heir and Leader for Yunmeng Jiang, Jiang Cheng has come to accept this about his shixiong and not resent him for it. But Jiang Cheng gets the feeling that Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to be Sect Heir instead of Jiang Cheng.

Considering that Wei Wuxian had become Sect Heir thanks to the Wen attack, Jiang Cheng trusts that his brother has been carrying out Sect Heir duties just fine. The admission by Wei Wuxian that he has in fact been completely useless in the week since Jiang Cheng’s death is… Surprising.

But it’s not, not really, when Jiang Cheng thinks about it. Wei Wuxian loves him—he hasn’t shied away from this fact for three decades, he’s not about to start shying away from it now—and Jiang Cheng himself had been pretty useless those first few days after the Wen attack and then Wei Wuxian’s disappearance. He understands.

“You’re meant to be the next Sect Leader, anyway,” Wei Wuxian mumbles into Jiang Cheng’s robes.

“Maybe, but you’ll be my Sect Heir when I do,” Jiang Cheng replies, calmly staring at Wei Wuxian’s shocked expression. “I’m serious. A-Jie will marry and leave Lotus Pier, but you’re Head Disciple and will become Sect Heir when I take over from father.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him. He looks a bit like a koi fish.

Jiang Cheng kindly does not tell him that.

“But- Madam Yu-“ Wei Wuxian splitters and Jiang Cheng cuts him off.

“Mother is not Sect Leader or Sect Heir,” Jiang Cheng says firmly. “It is not her decision who I have as my heir. I love her but you are my brother and I will not allow anyone to treat you like you are unworthy of being treated as my brother. Not even mother.”

It seems that Jiang Cheng can reduce Wei Wuxian to speechless by a) dying and reviving, and b) declaring him his brother and being willing to fight Madam Yu about it.

Considering Jiang Cheng has already fought his mother today, he’s relatively confident he could beat her if it came to that; even if he’s twelve. He’d rather it didn’t but Jiang Cheng has learnt to plan for contingencies as a Sect Leader.

You never knew if you were going to reveal a major plot to undermine the Great Sects and frame your brother for crimes he didn’t commit, after all.

Speaking of contingencies, Jiang Cheng wonders if it would be wise to reach out to Gusu Lan earlier than the Disciple Exchange in three years. The Lan would be able to offer assurances to the other Sects that Jiang Cheng really isn’t dead, and it would afford him the chance to introduce Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian sooner. Whilst he’d much rather gouge his eyes out than witness his brother being so shameless with the Second Jade of Lan, Jiang Cheng remembers how happy his shixiong had been with Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng will do whatever he has to, to make sure his siblings are happy.

Even if he has to endure shameless flirting and truly obnoxious displays of affection.  

He’ll have to figure something out regarding the peacock for A-Jie too. Jiang Cheng sighs. The things he does for those he loves. 

#The Untamed #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Jiang Yanli #Jiang Fengmian #Yu Ziyuan #Kat writes

[sailorglimmer]

In the Bedroom After The War

Pairing: Catradora. Glimbow.

This is a complementary shot to: this shot

Note: English is not my first lenguaje, so forgive me for any mistake in the shot. It's also my second English shot!

2/2

๛~๛~๛~๛~๛~๛~๛~๛

Even when they now had something to look forward to, the Best Friend Squad had to go back to Bright Moon to rest. Castaspella, Glimmer's aunt, was ordering everyone to go home for the rest of the day and assuring tomorrow the princesses were going to start addressing the problems and things to do in each kingdom. Catra, without even realizing, was holding hands with Adora while looking around the beautiful scenary.

“Sleepover!” Glimmer screamed, hugging Catra without actually caring if that would make the feline angry. “ Catra told me you used to have sleepovers together in the Horde, Adora.”

Catra groaned, trying to get the sparkly girl out of her personal space while Adora just looked at them with a smile.

Bow raised an eyebrow. “They let you have sleepovers?”

“We slept together all the time. I guess that counts as a sleepover. ” said Catra, pushing Glimmer so she could hide behind Adora from the touchy girl.

Glimmer didn't even flinched. Catra just observed her look at Bow, and both of them smiled with complicity.

“Like...best friends? Or enemies?” Glimmer asked with a fun tone. Catra hissed, irritated. Adora was clueless.

“Best friends! ” the blonde girl said with a smile. “Catra was always angrybut she would come at night to sleep in my bed. I we hold hands until she was sound sleep and I could go sleep after she was okay.”

Catra's cheek took a very red color while Glimmer and Bow looked at each other; smiling with an exited grin. Catra sometimes asked herself how Adora was literally the one person who could save the world when she didn't even recognized things she should not say to other people. It wasn't that Catra was embarrassed of sleeping hand in hand with Adora, but that damaged her reputation. Even more than it already was.

“Well, you two can hold hands and sleep together at my home tonight. I don't think my dad would mind. And I really want to know more about you two in the Horde. ” Glimmer said, getting to Bow and taking him by his arm so they could walk and incite the other girls to do the same. It worked, as Adora took again Catra's hand so they could walk behind their friends.

“Can you stop, sparkles? ” Catra hided her face in Adora's back. Glimmer just giggled before taking her friends and teleporting back to Bright Moon. Back Home.

๛~๛

To Catra, it felt extremely weird. She was in the Bright Moon Castle with the Queen, her best friend with arrows, and Adora. If someone had told her about it months before, she would literally die of laughter. She couldn't believe she was there, seeing how someone brought some mattresses so her, Adora and Bow could sleep in Glimmer's room that night.

“It's really obvious she is the Queen. And they called me villanious. ” Said Catra loud enough for Adora to hear, but quietly enough so nobody else did. “I want her bed. She should offer me her bed.”

“You don't even like to sleep that high. You slept literally in the floor even though you had the top in the bunk bed back in the Horde. ” said Adora, smiling. “But don't worry, if you want to, I can ask Glimmer if you can sleep with her.”

“I don't want to sleep with sparkles!” she hissed, still in a low voice so they could hear them. “let me try this ones.”

Catra trowed herself to one of the beds, and Adora followed. They both looked at each other and couldn't help but smile. It felt so good finally being with each other after everything that had happened. After everything Catra had done.

Catra stoped smiling, and hid her face on one of the too-much pillows. Adora just stared at her. Catra felt ashamed just thinking about everything she had done, but didn't want Adora to think something was wrong, so she carelessly roll her tail on Adora's hand. That made Adora felt more at ease.

“Hey, Catra, Adora, Glimmer wants to do face masks. ” Bow went were the two girls were. Adora smiled happily; she loved face mask. Catra looked terrified. Not so luckily for her, she couldn't convince Glimmer to something else, and both girls ended following Bow to Glimmer.

They talked a lot. As Glimmer had already said, she wanted to know about their relationship in the Horde, and even though Adora couldn't understand the real reason, Catra knew by Glimmer's smile that she only wanted to prove that they had a more "deep relationship" than friends normally do. Still, Catra just waited patiently, oddly, because she knew she could find a perfect moment to get back at her after all.

When Bow grew hungry, Adora went back to the bed, and Catra followed. Adora smiled while Catra just laid beside her; she always knew she could eventually get her to go to Bright Moon with her. Get her home. To her, Catra was worth everything they had gone through, and even if it could totally could've been avoided, they were still there; together in bed after the war. After everything.

Catra, on the other side, never thought she would end up by Adora's side. She should've seen the signs before, but she was so blinded by her broken heart that couldn't realize that Adora did love her. Adora had always been by her side, and even when she had done so many things wrong, there she was...giving her another opportunity, a second chance. And Catra couldn't be happier she did.

“Hey, Adora?” she said softly, looking at the blonde girl.

“Yes?” Adora answered in a low voice, leading one of her hands to Catra's short hair. She ran her fingers through the other girl's hair, with a smile still on her face. Catra couldn't help but blush a little.

“mh...I...why? Why didn't you gave up on me? I was...I was horrible to you and your friends. To everyone. I hurt everyone you cared about, but still, you fought for me. Even after I thought you would stop after opening that portal.”

Adora took some seconds to think. She knew sometimes, when she put her head on to something, it was very hard to change her mind. So she lead with that.

“I told you I would never stop trying, Catra. ” she said in a gentle voice. “I know you did bad things, but you are going to make up for it. Right? You saved Glimmer even when that meant you would stay behind. The Catra that opened the portal was willing to die so I would be hurt...but you saved Glimmer so I wouldn't have to risk myself going there.” she smiled “Little did you know, I was still going back for you.”

“Which was very stupid of you, I have to say.” Catra said, giving Adora a little smile. She was glad that she actually went back for her.

“It wasn't. And when you are completely redeemed, everyone is going to see how awesome my girlfriend is. ” said Adora with a proud grin. Catra opened her eyes with surprise, feeling her cheeks get hot. Did Adora just called her...her girlfriend? Yes. She had. And Catra didn't know how to feel.

So she just changed the direction of her look to the other girl in the room; Glimmer. The girl with sparkles in her hair had was lost in thought, but that didn't stop Catra from messing with her.

“Stop looking so sad, glitter. ” Catra said, making Glimmer roll her eyes. Catra giggled. It was something that she had been doing since arriving Etheria again, and even when at first it felt different, now she could stop.

“Adora, make her shut up. ” was Glimmer's answer, and Catra just shrugged her shoulders.

“Actually, I will. Kind of. I will show Catra around, it's that okay?” Adora asked with a smile.

Catra actually didn't feel like walking around, but it would be a great opportunity to ask about Glimmer just to spite her. It would also give her some alone time with Adora, and even though she didn't want to, they could discuss their feelings.

“Sure. I will just wait for Bow to get back with the snacks. Later we can, I don't know, do something else. ”

Adora nod before getting up from the bed and dragging Catra out of the room, leaving Glimmer alone. Catra took Adora's hand, looking at her. Adora could swear she saw Catras eyer glim with happiness, but she wouldn't tell. She knew she would get embarrassed.

“So, does Sparkles have any other weaknesses? I mean, that princess with the power of nets said that she had crippling self doubt mixed with overwhelmed something about dubris? Hubris?”

Adora laughed. “Hubris is when she's really confident. She is. You and her are really alike. ” said the blonde while walking to her room. “I think you like her. I know you two are going to be great friends.”

“Shut up” Catra rolled her eyes

“Why don't you shut me up?” Adora said, smirking a silly smile that only made Catra blush again. “ Look this is my room”

“Your room? This is the size of Sparkle's room! And she's the Queen. ” Catra said, not waiting to jump around on the bed and the furniture in the room. “why do you have two showers?”

“They have one they call fountain that is just for decoration. Can you believe it?”

“Princesses are really dumb” Catra laughs, sitting in Adora's bed. “This is the only thing that resembles the Horde.”

“Almost. ” Adora looked around before sitting besides her. “While I was sleeping, it felt like home...but when I woke up, you weren't there. You were never there, so it felt... different than being in the Horde.”

Catra looked at her. “I'm sorry”

“I forgave you, Catra. Specially because you literally jumped to fire to save me. That was really... something.”

“Oh, shut up, I did not.” said the feline with a smile. “Or maybe I did, but it's because you always have to jump to danger. It must be a hero thing. Or a princess thing.”

“I mean, ” Adora got close to her. “you are now a hero. And I think being with a princess kind of makes you one too.”

Catra raised an eyebrow. “of course not”

“It does. ” said Adora, before stealing her a kiss. She had done that a couple of times during face masks, so it didn't felt as weird as the first time. “Are you okay?”

Catra looked at her, before noding.

“I just...are we really girlfriends? Aren't you...ashamed?” asked Catra softly

Adora looked almost terrified. “No! Catra, you took bad decisions, but I know you are not a bad person. I love you. I would never be ashamed of you!” she exclaimed, but took her hands with compression.

“It's just...I would be ashamed of me. I am.”

“Don't be silly. I will never be ashamed of you being my girlfriend. Do you understand? Also, you are really cute now with that short hair and good attitude. ” Adora put her foreheads together.

Catra giggle. “Adora, shut up. ” she said yet again, before taking her by the cheeks and kissing her. It felt exactly as the first time.

Sending millions of electricity waves all throughout her body, making her heart race like crazy. They both felt like they had been kissing all their life's, and at the same time, like they needed to do it more and more. Catra's hands carefully caressed Adora's face, maintaining the blonde close to her. Adora just keep her hands on Catra's shoulders also keeping her close.

Catra was the one who pulled away, smiling at Adora. “Guess now I have a girlfriend. ” she said, making Adora smile.

“You do. Just wait until everyone knows. Until Glimmer and Bow know we are together finally! ” Adora said, resting her face in Catra's shoulder, giggling at her purring. “Bet you are excited.”

“Glimmer and Bow are clueless.” was her answer, ignoring the other comment that kept her face red.

“You know...I think they love each other. ”

“That would be... disgusting. ”

“Don't say that! Bow loves Glimmer. He told me himself. Even though he didn't tell you, he is really grateful that you saved her. He was really worried.” Adora said “Just like I was worried for you. He didn't even had to ask to know I would save you. He know I love you, and I think he will be happy for us.”

“I think he's in love with you. Everyone here is! ” Catra joked. ”Every princess looks at you with heart eyes. He probably does too.”

“He doesn't. Let's go back. ” Adora took Catra's hand to drag her, again, to the corridor.”I'm tired. I want to finally sleep.”

“With me.”

“With you.”

Catra smiled. She was growing kind of tired of the feeling in her stomach Everytime Adora said something cute, but at the same time, she loved it. She felt exactly like that; loved. They walked hand to hand back to the room, silently, for Catra's luck. She saw Glimmer and Bow kissing and smiled with mischief.

“Don't talk” she demanded to Adora, who just went with it. “Told you they are disgusting. Look at them kissing, I bet kissing her tastes like glitter too.”

“She tastes like glitter?”

“yeah, I bit her once. Or twice, I don't remember. I'm going to interrupt, come.”

Adora hold a laugh, leading carefully Catra on those stairs that Glimmer had put again. It felt good finally getting to do silly things with Catra again, and it was even better that she could hug her, tease her, and kiss her every time she wanted without her rejecting her. Her getting along with her friends was just an extra that totally would make her life better. Catra was just happy that she was with Adora; she was back home.

#she ra spop #spop 5 #she ra #spop #adora shera #catradora #spop spoilers #adora #bow spop #she ra spoilers #glimbow #glow #catdora #catra x adora #catra #adora x catra #bow x glimmer #best friend squad #glitra #she ra shot #fanfic #she ra fanfic #adorabow #she ra catra #glimmatradora #glimmer x bow

[living-dead-parker]

Hi, I’m not sure if you’re taking request but do you think you can do an angst drabble with Peter Parker x stark!reader (they’ve been dating for a year) where Peter and MJ have been have little rendezvous behind the readers back and one day she finds out and maybe Tony takes away his suit or something and you can decide how it ends...Thank You =)

Idk why I had trouble with this specific one, but I’ve had other similar ideas, so whenever I post those, feel free to come back to those too. I just didn’t wanna leave this request in my asks for too long before I forgot about it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this sort of but not really blurb/imagine.

Cheater - P.P

"Why did your dad steal my suit?"

Your eyes go wide, looking at the guy who just days ago broke your heart by cheating on you with his close friend, MJ. The guy who just a week ago you would have given the world for. The guy who you'd give your life for. The guy who used to be your best friend, your partner in crime, your favorite teammate.

"Technically, it's his suit, he owns and gave it to you as a gift that he can revoke at any time he wants," you state as you don't even bother to look up. Because if you do, you'll cave and maybe you'll cry or maybe you'll beg him to love you again. Both would be a terrible time for you. So, you continue screwing together the final pieces of Rhodey's nano suit compartment. "I don't know why he has it, ask him yourself," you continue, giving him as much attitude as he came at you with.

Peter sighs, slamming a hand down on the table, his hand landing right under your line of sight. "Bullshit," Peter calls out. "Where is my suit?"

"First of all," you say, grabbing a screwdriver and using it to push his hand off the table. He doesn't budge, so you sigh this time around. "This is all expensive equipment and sure my dad is loaded but he won't be too happy to buy more of this stuff. Second, I need you to stop yelling at me and asking me things I have no idea about. I already offered you a solution," you inform him, not bothering to look up.

Right before Peter can speak up, the sound of a very familiar someone clearing their throat can be heard from the lab's entrance. You turn and look over to see Tony standing there with his hands on his hips. A look of disappointment on his face.  Peter shivers, he cowers, knowing that look is aimed at him.

"I took the suit, thanks to aunt hotty, because you're not fit to own it just yet," Tony comments as he steps into the room. Peter looks at you wide-eyed and although you're not directly looking at him, you still see it.

"You told him about-"

"She didn't have to tell me anything," Tony states as he stands on the side of the workbench, arms crossing over his chest. "Your little mistake made headlines, something about mistress intercepts Y/N Stark's relationship," Tony continues, bending forward and giving Peter a rather intimidating look. "But that's not exactly why I took the suit," Tony states.

"Dad, just give him the suit-"

"No, Mr. Parker here," Tony cuts in, leaning back a bit as he looks over at Peter. His voice is dripping with sarcastic enthusiasm. "Doesn't know how to take accountability for things. He doesn't know how to admit when something is his fault, he also doesn't know how to make better decisions under pressure. That's not what the public needs in a superhero, kid."

"Okay, I cheated, I admit that!" Peter butts in. "Can I please just have the suit back?"

"The fact that you haven't even apologized, or that you haven't really taken accountability, or that you're being pretty rude over a suit is just further convincing me that I shouldn't give it back. Remember what I said kid," Tony lowers his voice. "If you're nothing without the suit, then maybe you shouldn't have it. In fact-"

"Dad, enough!" you cut him off, making the two men look at you in shock. "Just give him the suit so he can leave, for fuck sake."

The room is silent as a loud sob escapes your lips. Tony frowns, ready to glare daggers at the spider kid. Peter just feels angry. At what, exactly? He's not sure. Either way, they watch you turn around and lean over the computer as you sniffle a bit.

"All I wanted was to forget you even exist," you say as you turn to look at Peter. His glare softens into a frown when he sees your red eyes and the tear streaks fall down your face. It all suddenly hits him. The guilt, the sadness, the pain. "Because it would be easier to pretend you were never even in my life than to get over you. But then you come here, yelling at me and it just reminds me that you don't love me. That I am blowing my own feelings out of proportion and that I am shitty because of it."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"But you did! Why can't you just accept the fact that you did? Stop saying you didn't mean to and just say that you did do just that! You hurt me, Peter. What you did, that's not love. I-"

"But I do love you! I swear on my life that I do love you. It was stupid of me-"

"But you still did it. You were sober and you still did it. You were perfectly aware and you still did it. You actively chose to bring her to your place and have her clean you up, you actively undressed with her and you fucked her still. Not once did you stop to think about me? How are you going to tell me you love me when you were just so easily able to fuck her and act like nothing happened?"

Peter stays silent, looking into your eyes for something. Anything other than overwhelming sadness and pain. Maybe a glimmer of hope, or something.

"I'm done, Peter," you tell him. "Absolutely done, I'm not taking you back or anything, because there's no purpose. I'm sure sometime in the very distant future we can be friends because I know being on this team is important to you. I know working for my dad is important to you and I cannot take that away from you. I don't want to be the reason the world loses someone who can defend it. But I don't want anything to do with you either," you tell Peter. You turn to your dad this time.

"So figure something out that can make everyone happy, because I don't want to see Peter but I don't want the world to lose out on Spider-Man. We've lost people, we can't lose more. Just give him the suit, let everything go back to normal, I don't care. But just keep him out of my sight."

Peter feels his heart break at how sure of it you are. He wants to call out for you as you exit the room. He doesn't, though. He knows he shouldn't. There's no point. So, all he does is look at Tony who's already frowning at him.

"You really did fuck up, kid," Tony says as he walks towards the door. "You'll get the suit back tomorrow, just get out of here while I figure this whole mess out," he says before finally walking out, leaving Peter there by himself, to sulk alone. 

#requests #leo answers #anon #peter parker #stark!reader #tony stark #angst #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader

[poptod]

Arcadian (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahk gets some time away from the busy life of a prince, and meets you by chance at the riverside.

Notes: People who read my AO3 stories know I do this, but I shorten Ahkmenrah’s name to Ahkmen, for historical reasons, as well as change (Y/N) to something more historically accurate :) also this one is Gender Neutral!

No AO3 link, another Tumblr Special I guess

Words: 2.1k

Generally speaking, he’s not technically allowed to leave the palace, but there’s not exactly a rule in place keeping him there, either. It’s definitely telling when his heart races as guards turn the corner and he hides - that tells him he’s not doing the right thing. Not that he knows what the right thing is. All he knows is that his life is suffocating, what with his parents constant observation of him and his brothers’ hatred towards him. Besides that it’s apparent that he’s going to become Pharaoh, which he hadn’t expected at any time in his life, and it’s not something he’s at all prepared for. So midnight of the day he publicly breaks down in front of his parents, his parents advisors, and his brother, he sneaks out his window and runs off into the desert.

It doesn’t take long before the reality of how bad of an idea this is hits him - the nile beside him runs slow, the water murky and unable to reflect the stars. He feels just as muddled as the water, and he crouches down beside it, heart heavy and thoughts full.

“You alright?” Comes a smooth voice from above him, startling him out of his kneeling position. He falls to the ground and looks up to find you - dressed in an unfamiliar fashion, a stranger who’s asking after his wellbeing.

“Um…” he can’t think of what to say, too unsure of who he is in your mind. “Yes. I just… was relaxing.”

“Ah,” you say with a nod, and you smile understanding at him. He lets out a sigh of relief and you kneel beside him, gathering water from the nile in the basket you hold in your arms. “So what’s your name?”

“Ahk -“ he almost says his full name - “Just Ahk.”

“Nice. I’m Ife. Nice to meet you,” you say with another smile, brighter than he imagines he’s ever smiled. “What brings you here?”

“I, uh… I don’t really know,” he mumbles with a shrug, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position. “I’ve just been really stressed. Had to get away.”

“That’s understandable. This is a nice place to unwind,” you say, grunting as you dump out the muddy water.

“Yeah.. um, what are you doing, exactly?”

“I wanted to capture a fish as a pet.”

“A what?”

“A fish pet. Father wouldn’t help me, so I thought I could do it by myself, but…” you glance out over the long stretch of the Nile, sighing forlorn. “I think I’ll just play with one for a while then release it. Sounds more humane.”

He shrugs, and you wade out into deeper waters, and place the basket between your legs, the slow water drifting into the basket. Making himself comfortable he watches you, chuckling softly when you swear quietly to yourself. Eventually you move deeper, till the water nearly comes up to your waist, which worries Ahkmen - you’re not exactly a very tall or strong-looking person. With a huff he stands, shirking his more expensive clothing and wading out into the water to meet you.

You don’t note his appearance with any sound or movement, so he stands behind you, making sure you don’t drift away, and he keeps an eye out for any predators. When you raise your basket one final time, a small fish the size of his pinkie finger is inside it, and you gasp delightedly, a brilliant smile shines on your face. Careful to balance the basket he helps you back, holding a firm grip on your upper arm in case you slip on anything.

At the edge of the shore, your bare feet dipped into the warm water, the basket sits between the two of you, and a very confused fish flitters back and forth.

“Do you live far from here?” He asks you after a moment of silence, and your stare at the fish breaks as you glance up at him.

“I live down the nile. It’s not too far if you want to visit?” You suggest quietly, examining him for any sign of either declining or accepting your offer. A soft blush creeps up his neck and into his cheeks as he looks nervously to the side - would your family recognize him?

“Uh, I don’t know, I… I wouldn’t want to intrude,” is what he comes up with, fiddling anxiously with his fingers. You shrug, looking down at the fish and swirling your finger in the water.

“It’s not a problem. I’m sure everyone’s still asleep anyway,” you say, your attention never drifting from a fish he considers to be quite plain, but maybe there’s something he can’t see that’s caught your interest. He looks down, and nope - still looks like a small, grey fish, not even reflective.

“I need to be back in Memphis by sunrise, at the latest,” he tells you, his shoulders tightening.

“Memphis? I’ve been there. Beautiful place,” you mumble distantly as the fish rubs up against your finger by accident. When the fish adamantly ignores you for a minute, you turn back to him, smiling sweetly. “I can make sure you’re back there if you’d like. Might be a nice break from your responsibilities.”

He can’t help but agree - a tense sigh leaves him and with another breath he relaxes. You ruffle his hair (no one’s ever done that before, and it shocks him that he likes it) and dump the water and the fish back into the nile. Standing, you help him to his feet and, tucking your basket underneath your arm, you lead the way to your village.

Your previous prediction turned out to be correct; no one was awake. The dying embers of a fire burn dim in the bonfire, and you sit down in front of it, Ahk at your side. You toss the basket behind you, scoot closer to your new friend, and lean against his shoulder. For a second he tenses, looking down at you, then forces himself to relax - for some unknown reason, he feels more special in this moment than he ever has before.

“You’re very nice, you know. You should be more careful with strangers,” he notes, wishing as soon as the words are out that he hadn’t said anything at all.

“I’m perfectly careful. I know how to defend myself, Ahk,” you giggle, leaning closer into his warmth despite the fact that it’s not an especially cold night. Sighing, he rests his cheek on the top of your head, staring up at the stars that glimmer in the dark swath of night.

You hum to yourself a melody he’s never heard, your voice barely there, fading in and out of existence in your tired state.

“What’s being a prince like?” You mumble, fumbling till you’re even closer to him, wrapping your arms to hug his left arm. He freezes - that definitely wasn’t information he gave you.

“How’d you know I’m -“

“Clothes,” you answer before he finishes.

“Oh. Um, well… it’s a lot. Has its’ challenges, all very different from your life, I suppose,” he sums up, hoping he doesn’t offend you. He knows how lucky he is, and he knows that life for you is most likely harder than his own, even though you’re not responsible for a thousand people like he is.

“Good food?” You ask, your blinking slowing to a snail’s pace.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Good food.”

As the night progresses he finds himself reluctant to wake you, fast asleep on his shoulder, and even more reluctant to leave your haven. There’s a peace radiating through your village that he’s never felt before, a life far simpler and happier than his own, though the labor needed to stay alive he knows is grueling. Still, he stays there, by your side, and when he feels his own eyes grow heavy with exhaustion he lays the both of you down on the soft ground, his arm wrapped around you. You mumble incoherently in your sleep, scoot closer to him, and wrap your own arm round his waist. Distantly, he smiles to himself, and falls asleep.

Morning comes, and there’s a very large man above him, kicking him awake. Startled he jumps up, ready to apologize profusely before he sees you standing beside the man, a sleepy smile still apparent.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say, and wordlessly (and still blushing) he agrees, letting you lead the way.

It’s a somewhat cooler morning, and the water seems to be clearer than it was the night before. Birds fly about, singing cheerful songs along the banks of the nile. Soft wind blows through the trees, and you stop him by a date tree, climbing up it like you’ve done it a million times before, which he reckons you have.

“Breakfast,” you announce with a giggle, hanging upside down from the upper vestiges of the tree, shaking it so the fruit falls to the ground. Laughing at your antics he catches a few, quickly throwing them away when you release yourself from the tree. Just in time he catches you in his arms, and in thanks you peck his cheek, lighting a brilliant blush on them.

“By the way,” you begin once you’ve both eaten, “I’m sorry I broke my promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you I’d get you back to Memphis by sunrise. It’s far past that,” you say, looking up to the sun which lies a thumbs width above from the distant mountains. His father will most likely be angry with him and he knows this, but he just shrugs - no need to worry you and himself by extension.

“It’s alright. Nothing bad’ll happen, just my parents might be a little worried. They know I can handle myself though,” he tells you, and with a sigh, you nod, and release your anxieties.

“You’re welcome back at my home anytime you’d like, I don’t think my father dislikes you, which is saying something. He’s a little hard to please. I… I hope we can be friends,” you add at the end, quiet and more timid than he’s ever heard you.

“I hope so too,” he admits softly, and the two of you continue your walk in silence.

Eventually you find the discarded golden robes from last nights’ wade, and he quickly brushes them off, putting everything but the cape back on. Instead he wraps it around your shoulders, smiling bright when you blush at the gesture.

“Looks better on you,” he says, fluffing out the cape so it spreads like golden wings behind you.

“Belongs to you,” you chide with a quiet laugh, but you keep the cape on - it can’t hurt, you reason, for just a little longer. The material is the softest you’ve ever felt, an obvious relic of a royal. It’s light but warm, and you can’t help but giggle a little when you wrap yourself up in it.

He blushes sweetly at the image of you, wishing he could see you every day, and disheartened at the knowledge he can’t ever have you - not in any way that matters. But for the rest of the walk he ignores that little voice in his head, fidgeting with the gold bracelets on his wrists as he watches every idiosyncrasy of you.

At the gates of the city he reluctantly lets you leave him there, the golden cape back on his own shoulders. He stands there, feeling more lonely than ever till you vanish in the brush of the nile. An unexplainable urge courses through him, alighting every sense in him, and he runs after you - one more thing he has to do.

It’s not long before he catches up; you don’t walk very fast. He grabs your arm from behind and you jump, relaxing when you see it’s him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tilting your head curiously to the side. His heart melts at the sight and without second thought, he kisses the sweetest memory into you, moving innocently against your lips until you part with a shocked gasp.

“I… sorry, I -“

You move your hand up into his hair, weaving your fingers into it before you push him back down towards you, interrupting his speech with a kiss softer and impossibly more loving than his own. This time when you part it’s much more gentle, less of a shock, and much more human.

“I suppose I’ll see you again?” He asks, and the desperation in his voice is embarrassingly clear.

“Of course,” you answer with a wonderfully familiar smile.

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah #night at the museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Always & Forever: Part 5

Pairing: Lucifer x reader

Summary: Being forced into an arranged marriage by your father doesn't go quite to plan when your soon to be husband tries to take the only freedom you have ever known. Little does he know someone else was listening in. Go on a journey to discover that Lucifer may not be as bad as he appears. He did save your life after all.

Warnings: talks of acts of violence, talks of possession, age gap, cursing, fluff, some angst, mentions of blood and injury, talk of mature topics, 18+ only.

Word Count: 2408

A/N: I try to stay as true to the time period as I am comfortable with. This an 18+ only series. You have been warned. There is a lot of talk about mature topics. You have been warned. All thoughts in italics.

Enjoy!

Not married? But Lucifer was my husband, he had to be. He was real. I knew he was real. I knew I couldn’t have dreamt what happened last night. It was so vivid.

“Miss, sorry to interrupt your discussion, but you do have a lesson today.” My hand-maiden came in.

“What lesson?”

“History, miss.”

“Fine. Sorry we have to cut this short Maddox. Maybe we can meet later and discuss further. Maybe prove to you what we discussed.”

“Maybe.”

I follow my hand-maiden to the royal library.

“I have brought the princess as you requested sir.”

“Good.” My tutor spoke up.

“Good morning Samuel.”

“It’s just Sam, your highness.”

“Sorry. So, what are we learning in history today?”

“You get to decide for yourself, your highness.”

“I would like to study the history, and current events of the Oslucatish Kingdom.”

“Why not your own kingdom?”

“Because I need to know something. I will explain once I find my answer.”

“Alright, I shall grab you those books.”

“Can I start with current events please?”

“I suppose. I will grab the scrolls as well then.”

“Thank you.”

Sam brought me the books and scrolls, and I began looking into the current events of their army. I knew they had a little bit of an advantage, but I needed to know how. I then found my answer quickly. It was because of Lucifer they had the upper hand in this war. I knew I had to find him, thinking that maybe if he saw me, he would remember me, and things will fall back into place.

“Sam do you know where their army is placed currently?”

“I believe their soldiers are headed home by now. Maybe the southern mountain trail.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” I stand up and grab my stuff.

“Hold on just a minute. We aren’t done yet.”

“I’ve got my answer. I just need him to see me to remember. He has to remember me.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” “I’ll take my chances thanks. I must prepare for a long journey.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m going with you then.”

“This really doesn’t concern you Sam.” “It does if it’s Lucifer you’re after. My brother and I will escort you. He just returned from the hunt for those bandits.”

His brother must be the new commander then.

“I guess. As long as you both don’t try to stop me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Fine then. You both can escort me.”

“I’ll go get ready and inform my brother.”

I nod and head back to my room and change into something comfortable for riding a while in. A dress isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to ride a horse in. I finished getting ready and met Sam and his brother at the stables.

“I don’t understand why she wants to see him. He’s going to kill her on sight, no question about it.”

“Dean come on, We have to be a little supportive of the princess. No matter how stupid her decision seems.”

“She does realise she’s going to get herself killed, and then we have to risk our lives because she is stupid and idiotic.”

“Dean you need to keep it down. She’ll be here any minute, if she hears us talking like this, she’ll run off on her own and then we will have to bring an arm with us to find her.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve heard enough.” I say walking inside.

“Y-your highness. I-I didn’t mean…”

“Save it Sam. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“You didn’t give me a reason to understand.”

“I know you probably hate me princess, but…”

“Only Lucifer is allowed to call me princess. You may only call me highness, or m’lady. Anything else and I shall report you to my father.”

“Yes, your highness.” 

I knew I caught Dean off guard. I was on a mission and no one was going to stop me. “We best get going if we want to reach the village in time.”

“What village?” Sam asked, thinking we were going to race to the Southern Mountain.

“There is a village nestled at the top of the mountain. The quicker we get going, the better. It’ll get dark quick, and we want to enjoy the festivities.”

“Festivities?” Dean asked, confused.

“The celebration of sovereignty is a momentous occasion. The Oslucatish soldiers will probably rest there for the night, and join the celebration. It is in their territory after all.”

“You’ve done your research, your highness.”

“I’ve tried.” I said grabbing a horse and mounting it, “we haven’t got all day boys. Try and keep up.” I nudge the horse into a gallop and take off towards the woods.

It didn’t take long for the brothers to catch up to me. We rode all day long to make sure we got to the village before nightfall.

We finally arrived, just as the sun began to set.

“I’ll secure a place for us to stay tonight, Sam you escort her around town.”

I let Sam follow me as I search the town, but there was no sign of the soldiers anywhere.

“So why do you want to find Lucifer so bad?”

“I had a dream, one so vivid, I believe it was once real. I woke up this morning to find Lucifer was gone, and that no such adventure had happened. I feel that, since it was so vivid, if Lucifer sees me, he’ll remember me.”

“You have a lot of hope riding on this huh?”

“I do. I feel like I have so much to lose if I don’t find him. We almost were torn apart once, and I won’t let that actually happen. I will keep fighting for him. No matter what the cost.”

“I admire your nobility, and your determination, your highness.”

“Thank you. I just hope that I’m right.”

“For the sake of you, and our kingdom, I hope so too.”

We wander a little longer till the crowd ahead bursts into cheers and praise. This was it. The soldiers must have just arrived. This was my chance to finally show my face to him. I broke my way through the crowd to get a better look, and there he was. A top a majestic steed turning his face away from all the attention from the ladies. I had to get his attention somehow.

Please remember me Luc. Please see my face and run to me. I yearn to feel your string, yet gentle arms embrace me once more.

Now was my chance I had nothing left to lose, “All hail Prince Lucifer! Second son of Oslucatish!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. I knew he had to hear me. He had to.

The whole parade of soldiers stops, and Lucifer hops off his horse. The crowd suddenly goes silent, as Lucifer looks around. I swear I could see a glimmer of hope behind those cold dark eyes.

“Who said that? Speak now and face minor consequences.”

“I did.” I stepped into the center where the soldiers were. 

Everyone recognized me, and began to whisper amongst themselves. I didn’t care. I was now standing only feet away from the man who held me so tight the night before.

“Who are you?”

“Everyone here can answer that Luc.” I spoke gently to him. If I spoke harshly he may not remember me.

“Guards, escort her to my room. I shall deal with her myself.”

I felt two huge hands grab my arms, but I didn’t struggle. No audience was better if I was to help him remember me.

The guards take me to his room and slam the door behind me.

Not exactly friendly are they. At least I get to be alone with him.

The door bursts open and Lucifer walks in looking stearn and angry.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t proclaim whatever you feel like, if my brother, or father were to hear you say that, you would be killed on sight. I’m only a knight now. I gave up my prince duties a long time ago.”

“Luc, look at me. Look into my eyes, and tell me I’m a force to be reckoned with. Tell me that you don’t think I can hold my own when it comes to Michael and your father.”

“No one knows about Michael except those in our kingdom. You are an outsider.”

“My name is Princess Y/N of Lucaea.”

“Then you should not be here. If anyone finds out you’re from Lucaea, let alone the princess, you will be killed for game. However you came here, or for whatever you came here for, you need to leave now.”

“I’m not leaving without you. I came this far, and I won’t leave till you agree to come with me.”

“You’ll have to kill me first before I agree to that.”

“I won’t kill you Lucifer. I won’t do it.”

“Then I’m not leaving with you.”

“Answer me this then, I called you Luc twice and you didn’t tell me to stop, why is that?”

“Because you don’t exist. You’re just another vision of my imagination that isn’t real.”

“I’m not a figment of your imagination. I’m real.” 

I reach out to caress his cheek, but he smacks my hand away. I gave a look of anger at him, shocked that he did that, “I didn’t come all this way for you to smack my hand away. I came here to make peace with our people and this is the thanks I get!? Some fucking knight in shining armor you are. I can’t believe I just wasted my time on someone who doesn’t clear doesn’t want me, or peace.”

“Sir is everything alright?” A guard walks in.

Suddenly, Lucifer lunges at me and grabs my throat, “everything is alright. I said I could handle this.”

The guard leaves, but Lucifer doesn’t release his grip around my throat.

I just chuckle, “look at you, you’re no different than your arrogant brother. Maybe I was wrong,” my expression went from angry to sadness, “maybe I was wrong about you all along.”

He lets go of me, and stands up, “I...shit, what have I done?”

“You aren’t my Lucifer that’s for sure.” I say standing up and wiping myself off.

“Why...why did you come here?”

“I came to look for you. Came to see if seeing my face would help you remember.”

“Re-remember what?”

“A dream I had. It was so vivid, i felt like it was one of those dreams that only two people remember, and the rest think they’re crazy.”

“What was your dream about?”

“About how we met. I was supposed to marry Michael, he tried to kill me, you saved my life, and we made a pact to marry each other for the sake of our kingdoms. My father disagreed with this and tried to force me to martyr Michael anyways. I snuck out of my chambers and ran to the dungeon, where I found you all bloody, and hurt. We escaped to Taekya because Michael had declared war against them, and the people were furious with us. We got the declaration of war and brought it back to my father. My father then agreed to let us marry, and we did.

“That’s when I woke up, cold and all alone. I wanted you by my side. I never wanted you to leave. When no one knew about what I was talking about, I knew I had to come find you. I had to see you, even if it was one last time. I fought too hard to get you, just for me to lose you.”

“You believe that was all a dream?”

“It has to be. No one else remembers.”

“What if it wasn’t a dream?”

“That would be nice, but you would never choke me, or slap me ever. That isn’t the Lucifer I married.”

“Well that Lucifer, and this Lucifer have changed. I kill because I feel more alive than I ever have before. That Lucifer was a coward.”

“Don’t you dare say that! That Lucifer was nothing but brave! He was my hero!”

“Your hero died with your memory. So, I suggest you go back to whatever worthless hole you crawled out of because you are not my princess. Besides, my princess would be disappointed if she saw the man I turned into for her.”

“Princess!” Sam and Dean burst through the door wielding their swords. “If it isn’t the two jesters. You’re the bodyguards for the new princess? I thought that the king would send someone more qualified for the job. It won’t be as rewarding when I finally kill you.”

Lucifer runs at Sam too quickly for him to react in time. I had to do something. I had to stop him. I didn’t know how though, he could easily kill me no problem.

“Lucifer stop!”

He turns and looks at me, and I knew I had fear written all over my face. I was scared of what he had become.

“Y/N get out of here now! We can handle him.”

“I’m the only one giving orders Dean. Not you. Everyone dares to take the one freedom that I truly am free to use. Step out of line again and you’ll need to find a new place of work and let me tell you it won’t be as grand as the life you have now.”

I saw something click in Lucifer’s head, “y-you said that to a guard who tried to stop you from entering your father’s study.”

I started to recall the dream I had, and he was right. He did recognize me.

“Word for word exactly.”

“So you do remember me?”

“You proved to me you’re actually real. That you really are Princess Y/N of Lucaea.”

“I am. Come home with me Lucifer. I don’t want to spend another hopeless day without you by my side any longer. It’s been torture not being able to run up and hug you.”

“I-I can’t go back with you.”

“Why not?”

“I’d be dead if your father saw me.” “I’ll talk to him and straighten things out. Whatever started this war, we can end it.”

“You don’t understand. I will never be allowed to marry you.”

“Why not!?”

“Because I’m the reason your father declared war against Oslucatish.”

#spn lucifer #lucifer x reader #medieval #medieval au

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Lie or Dare - Frank Iero x Reader

Request: Hey! On your imagine book can you write a frank imagine? But the reader is drunk and accidently tells frank they like him?!?! Warnings: alcohol, angst, fluff Word count: 2 781

“Come to this party, Frank. It will be fun, Frank. I promise, Frank,” Frank mumbled to himself in annoyance as he stood in the corner of a living room whose owner he did not even know.

He always felt misplaced at these college parties, and he was only here because of your big, beautiful, pleading eyes. You had mentioned over the last few weeks how much you would like a party to take the edge of, with all the stress you had, so Frank knew you would jump at the first opportunity you would get, and he felt obliged to go with you.

He looked around the room, his eyes gliding over all the people, intelligent, educated, well-manned people. Not people like him, at least not in sight. No punks, no musicians, no one who spend their early twenties driving around the country in an old, beaten up van, getting stopped by the police regularly because they thought ‘my chemical romance’ was some code for drugs, instead of a band name. It was not like Frank was ashamed of his life, of what he was doing. He was in no way inferior to these people around here, who spend their days in libraries and lectures, learning math and geology and physics and literature and what not. But he had a feeling that they thought they were superior. And he knew that every single one of them would have a better shot at you than him, and that was what made him feel sick.

Finally he found you, sitting on the floor in a circle with several other people, some of which he thought to recognize.

“Frankie,” you exclaimed happily, your heart beating faster, and your focus immediately shifted away from the action in the room to the young man in with the fauxhawk in front of you, “do you wanna play along?”

Before Frank even had a chance to ask what you were playing, several hands, all belonging to people he had never seen before, reached for him and pulled him down to the floor so he sat next to you, so close in fact, that his shoulder was tightly pressed against yours. But you did not seem to mind. With a second look at you he also figured out why. You were drunk. Your eyes were glassy, your cheeks tinted pink, and your gaze almost absent, at least for a moment, before a sporty looking guy at the other end of the circle declared “Time for the new guy! Truth or Dare?”

Well, shit.

“Ahm… Truth.”

Frank usually loved to take a risk, but not in front of a dozen people who he did not know and did not trust, especially not when it came to your safety. You were not the kind of person to get this drunk, so he assumed this game had to have something to do with it.

“Boring,” the guy groaned, but thought for a question anyway. “What do you do? You don’t go to college, right?”

Frank hesitated for a moment. Should he tell the truth, or rather the old I-work-at-a-supermarket-story. But these people already thought they were better than him, so he decided to brag a little.

“No, I don’t,” he answered, shooting a quick glance over at you, “I’m playing guitar in this band called My Chemical Romance and-“

“He’s gonna be famous one day, I mean, he already is,” you jumped in, wrapping your arm around Frank’s shoulder proudly, and giggled.

A grin spread over Frank’s face at your words, so he simply shrugged and nodded, before he reached for the empty wine bottle in the middle of the circle, and spun it.

It did not take Frank long to find out the reason for your drunken state. Basically every single dare was to take a shot. The only exception was a muscular guy who looked like he was a footballer or something, who was dared to take off his shirt by a squealing girl who was quicker to shout that, than the rest of the group to request a shot.

You in the meantime felt dizzy. Your head was feather-light but also incredibly heavy, and you had to resist the temptation of resting it on Frank’s shoulder. He looked so good tonight, with his crazy hair, and his lip ring, and the nose piercing, and the skeleton gloves he was wearing.

“(Y/n), truth or dare,” someone shouted across the room.

You jumped out of your thoughts, and realized the bottle was pointing at you. You were about to answer ‘dare’, fearing to reveal some secret if they asked you something, but Frank leant over to you.

“You’ve had enough, you should take truth,” he whispered, and you nodded.

Not even thinking about what he had told you, and why you had originally decided against it, you answered “Truth”.

There was some mumbling for a moment within the group until someone had come up with a good question.

“Are you in love with Frank?”

Somewhere in the back of your brain your consciousness scrambled to its feet. You felt Frank tensing at your side, and a voice in your head screamed about how he would hate you until the end of time if you told the truth, that yes, in reality you did like him. Admittedly this game was called TRUTH or dare, not “Decide if you want to tell the truth, and if not, lie and dare”, but nobody would know if you lied, and it would safe your friendship with Frank.

“Nah,” you shook your head, chuckling slightly, hoping it would be convincing, “we’re just friends, right Frankie?”

Playfully you nudged Frank’s shoulder, but something about his reaction seemed off. You felt it in the way how his shoulder did not give way to the soft push, instead it felt more like running into a door frame. He was not looking at you, his eyes cast across the room, staring into the distance, his jaw tense. Something was wrong. Majorly wrong. You felt your heartrate pick up, quicker and harder than was comfortable, and it felt as if your heart was beating right in the back of your throat, every single heartbeat causing your face to feel like it was pulsating with blood, but instead of blushing you felt yourself growing pale.

The rest of the group seemed not to notice; they just sighed in disappointment, and spun the bottle again, immediately daring the next victim to do a shot.

“Frank,” you asked carefully, nudging his shoulder again, gentler this time, hoping to make him look at you, but instead he got up wordlessly.

Panic started rising in your chest as you watched him unfold his legs, and stand up from the floor, turning his back to the group, and starting to walk away. You jumped up, intending to run after him, but the sudden movement caused your equilibrium to finally get affected by the alcohol, and you almost fell, in the attempt to run after Frank.

Slower is quicker, you told yourself, trying to ignore the spinning room around you, and the panicked breathing. Slowly, placing one foot in front of the other consciously, you made your way through the room, trying to find Frank, but he was nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone? Following an instinct you walked towards the hallway, and outside, into the front yard. And sure enough, walking down the pavement, away from the house, you spotted a figure who matched Frank’s appearance.

“Frank!”

You did not care about the looks that were thrown your way, when you shouted for him, instead you felt panic rising as he sped up his steps. Feeling terribly dizzy, but determined to figure out what the problem was, you started jogging after him.

“Frank, wait! Where are you going?”

You had almost reached him, only six feet separating you from him, and you were ready to stretch out your arm to take hold of his shirt, when he spun around, making you stumble to an immediate stop. Never before had you seen an expression that scared you as much as the one on Frank’s face in that moment. It was not necessarily the anger that glimmered in his eyes, which made you flinch, but far more the pain, the disappointment, but also a hint of apology. His face was drained of all colour, except a fine line around his eyelids, that had turned red, as if he was about to cry. His lips were quivering, in held back anger, or suppressed tears, you weren’t sure. His teeth were clenched together, and his hands tensed into fists.

“What!”

You had heard Frank scream on stage, had heard him swear like a sailor in a volume that should be forbidden, but nothing had ever made you feel as small as that single word he shouted at you now.

“What’s wrong, why’d you go?”

He stared at you, fire of anger glimmering behind his eyes.

“Why should I stay, isn’t like I’m welcome there anyway,” he hissed.

“But-“

You did not know how to phrase the questions in your mind without risking to have him run away. Was this about the truth question you had been asked? You wanted him there; there was no use in going to a party if it wasn’t with him. So instead of finishing your question, you let it hang in the air between the two of you, watching how the anger in his eyes slowly died down, and instead got replaced with sadness.

“I hate this party, they all think I’m not worthy or their company because they go to college and I don’t,” he mumbled, his eyes slowly looking away from yours. “And I’m almost tempted to believe them sometimes, you know?”

“Frank-“

Your heart broke at his words. Of course he was not worth any less than the bunch of students in there. In your eyes he was worth more than all of them together. That thought triggered a realization in your mind.

“It’s fine, let’s just admit that maybe we’re destined to go different ways in life, you go to college, and I go on tour,” he sighed, blinking several times, making you suspect that he was trying to blink away tears.

“This isn’t about college or not, is it? It’s never bothered you before,” you remembered, finally daring to take a few steps towards Frank, now that his hands started relaxing, and his angry posture fell into a defeated one. “It’s about that truth or dare question.”

The lack of reaction from his side was proof enough that it really was about this. The way he was standing in front of you now, shoulders hanging down, eyes cast to the floor, arms dangling weakly at his sides, an eternal sadness on his beautiful face, was heartbreaking. He looked like he was waiting for the final blow, like the prisoner who has accepted that he was being executed, like he had given up the fight, and was waiting for you to finish him off with a dagger to the heart.

“It’s okay, I mean, I know you deserve so much better than a dirty punk who only spends his time hanging out with his friends in an old van, you deserve so much more than me,” he whispered, his words causing you pain and fury at the same time.

You wanted to punch him for thinking so lowly about himself, but for that would be enough time later.

“If it’s any consolation,” you whispered back, slowly stepping even closer to him, so close that you were able to spy into his eyes that were still cast on the floor by his feet, “I was lying.”

It took Frank a moment to process your words. When he did, his eyes flickered up, staring into yours, and he lifted his head slowly.

“What,” he asked weakly, and more than before he looked close to a breakdown.

“I lied, when I said I wasn’t in love with you, I lied,” you explained, watching how his eyes were searching for the ‘but’ in yours, only to come up empty.

Suddenly you felt dizzy again, your head was pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and your knees felt week as you realized that you just had done what you had tried to avoid earlier. Maybe you just had ruined your friendship, maybe you had just screwed up majorly, or maybe-

There was no time for you to finish the thought, because you got interrupted by Frank, who had leapt forwards, grabbing your face into his rough hands, and pulling you against him, crashing his lips into yours desperately. It took you a second to respond, to wrap your own arms around him, one around his back, and one around his neck, burying your fingers into his soft curls, while his hands were holding tightly onto your face. You could feel the tips of his fingers move over the delicate skin of your cheeks, never loosening the grip, instead carefully exploring what he could reach. Underneath the hand on his back you felt him shiver, and goose bumps rose on his neck, as you gently tucked on his short hair.

In no time he was breathing heavily, and had to pull away, to catch his breath. His cheeks had gained back their colour, and his lips were slightly parted as he sucked in breath after breath, his eyes never leaving your face which he was still holding.

You too were out of breath, your fingers tightly curled into the hair in his neck, holding him close, pleading him silently not to pull away too far.

Neither of you had re-caught your breath when Frank could not stand the tension anymore, and leant back in, his lips ever so slightly quivering against yours. While the first kiss had felt like he was trying to catch you, so you were not running away, the second kiss felt like he tried to convince you to stay. Not that he had much convincing to do, but anyway. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand landing on the small of your back, pulling you into him, the other mirroring your gesture, and wrapping into the hair in your neck, holding you in place while he kissed you with more desperation than you had believed one person was able to feel, but here he was, carefully, gently, testing, pleadingly moving his lips against yours, while his breath blew hot over your skin in irregular patterns.

Somewhere in between you had closed your eyes when Frank had leant in again, but when he was still kissing you, so sweetly, you could not help but flicker them open for a second. You had never pictured seeing somebody from so close up. His skin was impossibly smooth, and this dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Even though you had spent the last minutes trying to catch up with what was happening, that you were really kissing Frank, that he really was returning your feelings for him, sudden realization washed (once again) over you, causing your blood pressure to drop suddenly, making black spots appear in your vision, and your knees giving in.

Breaking the kiss by stumbling slightly, you quickly steadied yourself, Frank’s arms around you playing a big part in stopping your way to the ground.

He was holding you close to his chest, allowing you to feel the deep rumble that originated in his lungs and escaped his mouth as an amused chuckle.

“You’re wasted,” he giggled, helping you stand up straight again.

“Overwhelmed,” you corrected, but at a glance to his shit eating grin, and his raised eyebrows you added, “and tipsy.”

“If you say so,” he winked.

“I insist,” you nodded, making both of you laugh.

“Do you also insist on going back inside,” Frank asked, his eyes getting lost in yours.

“Not really,” you admitted, earning an agreeing nod from him, “I’d rather find some sort of sofa where I can fall asleep.”

Frank laughed quietly, letting go of you, and immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulder so you were both facing into the same direction.

“Only if I’m allowed to fall asleep next to you,” he spoke seriously, guiding you down the street slowly, into the direction towards your flat.

“In my mind I was actually cuddled into you, maybe I should mention that,” you added, glancing at Frank to see his lips pull into a wide, happy smile.

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, turning his head to kiss you on your hair.

You shivered comfortably, and leant your head against his shoulder, allowing Frank to guide homewards.

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