#if all that’s holding me back is my mind there‘s still hope right?

[persephone-queen-of-souls]

The fact that I’m so scared of my freedom being taken away and yet I’m caged by my own mind.

#i guess one is different from the other #still it contradicts itself somehow #freedom #overthinking #if all that’s holding me back is my mind there‘s still hope right? #infp #infp t

[yaesnovels]

Hiiiiii if it's not a trouble to ask can I request a smut fanfic for Al Haitham with a gn reader who's really stressed out with school and isn't coping properly and Al Haitham knows when his baby needs some good spike chilling soul crushing sex go calm them down <3 squint to see the daddy and praise kink fjdjdndn thankyou<3333

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ coddled

✧. ┊    cw; fembodied!reader w no pronouns, no mentioned protection, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, creampie, slight pregnancy kink ?!? idk, sweet to rough alhaitham

not proofread or anything, didn‘t have the energy to. lmk if there‘s something off tho, i‘ll correct it :] also, hope u don‘t mind that i didn‘t add the daddy kink, i don‘t really feel comfortable with writing that specific kink so </3

cuddling with alhaitham whenever you were insanely stressed always helped you calm down. his arms engulfing your body, sitting on his lap on your bed while he was whispering sweet nothings and pressing soft kisses on your forehead made you melt into his arms even more, eyes closed as you stopped thinking about everything akademiya related. 

“shh, baby, relax, i’m here, yeah? do you want me to help you relax properly?”, he then asked, making you look up to him. for a moment you were – once again – absolutely mesmerized by his beautiful face. your eyes focused on his lips for a moment, the urge to kiss him was so big in that moment. alhaitham couldn’t help but smile at how easily distracted you were. 

“eyes up here, my love. i asked you a question”, he mumbled, wanting your attention on him. alhaitham had noticed before that you were insanely stressed out at the moment because you had to hand in your paper for the akademiya and despite him supporting you in any way possible, you were still visibly struggling. even though, you didn’t want to admit this to him. 

“mhm, please distract me”, you buried your face against his neck, just wanting to be coddled by him until you just focused on him and you. 

alhaitham didn’t hesitate to lift your head up a little to finally kiss you properly like he wanted to do for a bit now since he had convinced you to take a break from studying. he continued by softly peppering soft kisses over your jaw and neck, making you giggle at how it tickled. you were feeling so secure in his hold and it managed to distract you enough from your work for the akademiya. 

“how do you want me to distract you, darling?”, he murmured. he already had an idea of how he was going to make you go brainless to the point that you’d forget all about the akademiya, hell about anything outside of your shared bedroom. 

you didn’t reply, feeling too exhausted to even come up with anything. alhaitham always had been a very observative person so he noticed that quite quickly. after discarding your top, he carefully turned you both around so you would be laying underneath him. 

when he started kissing down your body, you arched your back and shivering, fingers entangled in his already messy hair and pulling on the strands. when he finally reached the waistband of your shorts, he looked up, pausing because he wanted to make sure you were still with him and okay with him proceeding. 

“please, baby”, you mumbled. he smiled up at you, carefully untying the knot of the shorts before he pulled them down your legs, followed by your panties. not able to help himself, he leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on your clit, giggling at your body twitching at the surprise. 

“you’re so beautiful, you know that right?” 

before you were able to say or do anything, he finally dived in, licking up a stripe over your cunt. one taste and he was – as usual – absolutely obsessed with your taste, unable to stop. “sweetheart, you taste so wonderful”, he whispered while he continued with his tongue’s movements. the sweet moans you let out were like music to his ears and he absolutely adored it. “how did i end up so lucky with you darling? you’re the most stunning person i ever met in my life.” 

his words made your cheeks warm up as you got shy. at the same time, you were trying your best to conceal your moans in embarrassment by holding your hand over your mouth. he didn’t like that, of course. he wanted to make you feel good and make you stop worrying and thinking. 

“stop that, darling, or do i need to tie your hands again?”, he smirked, making you remember one of the previous .. ‘sessions’ you had with him. that one time where he made you cum over and over again, even making you squirt once – you didn’t even know you could do that – all the while he didn’t allow you once to touch him. 

you immediately shook your head as a no, wanting to feel him as close as possible to you. “good”, he mumbled against your thighs, where he was leaving soft kisses, while he was teasing your entrance with his index finger, slowly pushing it in. he didn’t wait long until he added a second finger to stretch you out a little. 

“oh, sweetheart, those sweet whimpers you let out. you sound so, so sweet. don’t worry, baby, you can cum if this already gets you close. you can cum as many times as your body can take, no need to wait for me to let you. just make sure to tell me when you can’t take it anymore, baby, because i will make sure you go completely brainless.” 

his fingers’ quick thrusts and his other hand’s thumb softly stroking over your most sensitive point had your legs shaking in pure pleasure. “i’m close”, you whined, not taking too long after until you were creaming on his fingers. before you could even calm down after that, he was already back leaning over your body, softly sucking on your neck. 

“felt good, sweetheart? you came so well for me, baby. don’t worry, we’re not even close to be done. i’m going to make you cum so many more times, till you beg me to stop”, he was smirking knowingly. him praising you like that made your heart flutter. 

he was quick to discard his clothes, hands next to each sides of your head while looked down on you with lidded eyes, indulging in your beauty. once you gave him the ‘yes’, he didn’t hesitate to align his tip to your entrance and gently pushing his thick cock inside of your hole. 

“fuck”, he moaned out, not expecting you to still so tight. “you feel so good, baby.” he was slowly pushing more and more in until you finally felt him hit your spot, eyes widening in surprise. “you okay?”, he checked in with you. 

you nodded only in reply, arms tightly wrapped around his broad shoulders. “please, please, please”, you were basically begging him already but you couldn’t even care less of how pathetic it was. not with him deep inside you, hips still. 

“shh, shh, i know it feels so good to be so full of me, baby, don’t worry, i’ll make you feel so good”, he promised. with that, he finally pulled out until only his tip was inside of your hole and pushed back in, hard. 

alhaitham was quick to build up a frantic pace. this was supposed to be all about you, but he couldn’t help but fuck you desperately for his own high. he just needed to come deep inside of you, paint your tight walls all white, make you come over and over. 

all he wanted was to make an entire mess of you both together until you were at the brink of passing out from the overstimulation. 

“you’re doing so good, baby, you’re taking me so, so well”, he kept on mumbling those sweet praises into your ear, making you smile. “i love you so much, you’re going to make me come so much inside of you. do you want that baby? do you want me to fill you up? want me to put a baby inside your belly, sweetheart?” he was gently brushing his hand over your belly at the thought of this. 

you nodded frantically, the image alone had you so excited and you squeezed down on him tightly. you whined his name, crying out in pleasure as you came around him. he let out a groan as he also finally came deep inside of you. he was filling you up, still slowly thrusting in and out of you to ride out both of your intense orgasms. when he looked down to where you both were still connected, he watched his cock get so creamy with your combined slick with every other thrust. 

“feel good, baby?”, he asked, brushing away a strand of your messy hair out of your face. he smiled as you nodded, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. “good.” 

your eyes widened when he turned you around so that your face was pressing against the soft pillows. “surprised? i told you i wasn’t done with you yet, darling. i will fuck you so good that these sheets will be drenched and you’ll be at the brink of passing out. don’t think that me being soft and sweet to you once will change how i fuck you.” he grabbed your arms, pressing them against your lower back with one hand as he aligned his cock with your entrance once again, a hard thrust inside had you gasp and bite into the pillow as pain and pleasure mixed. he promised to make you brainless, after all. 

he intended to keep that promise as much as he could.

#. flowers for : alhaitham ! #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham fanfiction #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Hey John! There‘s been an idea on my mind and, if you‘re up for fics right now, I would be super grateful if you could write it. Maybe Thorne is there as a guest on Campbell‘s radio show and they get in the way of chatting about music and become friends (or even more, maybe?). Thank you in advance ♥️

Oooh, that's an interesting combo, I don't believe I've ever seen it before.

This is after Campbell gets his own show, so, like, post-canon stuff.

On with the fic!

--

"This is Campbell Bain, the bane of your life, bringing you all the latest and classic hits of this time and before! Today we've got a very special guess on the show that I'm sure some of you are just dyin' to listen to! His silky voice comin' at you live through your speakers and headphones, probably much more tolerable than mine!"

Campbell grinned, glancing over at the man in the booth with him. "I'll introduce this mystery guest to you after I play my pick for today's 'First Up Oldie', hope you're in the mood for a little Johnny Mathis!"

He set the needle on the record and the song began to play before he turned to his guest.

The man was slightly older than Campbell, dressed in what was considered punk style, much different from Campbell's own choice of... well.... he wasn't sure what his style was called.

His eyes were painted in eyeliner, he wore all sorts of jewelry, and he was smirking in a way that Campbell could register as implying a number of things. "You think a bunch of people who listen to ya for oldies is gonna wanna hear an interview from an up-and-comin' punk artist?"

"Hey, hey, I play modern stuff too." Campbell replied, waving a finger. "I like the old stuff, reminds me of my first DJ job. 'n fact, it's an homage to it!"

"Right, the St. Jude's hour you do on Fridays?" Thorne asked, leaning back in his seat.

Campbell blinked, surprised by that. "You listen to my show?"

"Course I do! 's why I specifically requested you to interview me!" Thorne replied as he put his arms behind his head, smirking at Campbell still. "I like your style, kid, it's a whole... hodge podge of whatever, and you clearly don't give two shits. Respect."

Campbell's grin was wider now before he suddenly turned back to the controls before him as the song started to end. "And that was Wonderful, Wonderful by Johnny Mathis, a true classic! Now, onto the interview with someone who I certainly hope will become a class in his own right far into the future! Do ya wanna introduce yourself to our listeners?"

"Oh, I suppose." Thorne chuckled, sitting up, leaning towards the mic before him. "Hello out there, radio listeners. Name's Thorne Jamison, and I'm gonna be the biggest name in punk since the 1970s, just you wait."

--

"I think that went well." Thorne said, removing the headphones from his head, handing them over to the host. "Do you think people liked it?"

"Well, considering those calls we got, I'd say they did." Campbell replied, smiling. He sure was a chipper guy, always smiling and grinning, Thorne noted. It was kinda cute.

"And you're gonna play my music on your show?"

"Of course I am! Gotta get it known, yeah? And what better way than through the show hosted by the loony! You'd be surprised by how often I get letters and calls from people who like gettin' their music selections from someone like me."

"Nice, nice." Thorne nodded, standing up from his seat, holding out a hand. Campbell looked at it, then took it. "Lovely meetin' you, Bain. We should meet up again sometime, my treat."

Campbell blinked a few times. "Oh, uh, ya wanna do that?"

"'Course, I like you, kid. Wouldn't mind gettin' to know you more, yeah?"

"Uh, sure! Yeah, we can do that!" Campbell replied, shaking his hand before pulling back, his grin in place once more.

"Well then, here's my card." Thorne pulled it from his wallet, then headed for the door, but not before holding his hand up to his face, thumb and pinky sticking out, mouthing 'call me' with a wink. And with that, he was out the door.

#takin' over the asylum #laws of attraction #campbell bain #thorne jamison #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

[inactive-hcs]

Hello! I see that request are open! Could you please write about Genos having a nightmare? so bad it wakes him up in middle of the night and he feels terrible and wants to cry, but tries to keep quiet to not wake up Saitama.

So he gets out of the apartment and calls his s/o looking for a little comfort to calm down, and his s/o is awake and tells him to spend the night at their place, but Genos doesn't want to leave his sensei, so instead they talk until the sunlight appears and Genos feels ok and thanks his s/o.

PLEASE! I am a simp for hurt comfort! And I love Genos!!!

YWS ABSOLUTELY, thanks for requesting something :D I‘ll try my best, feel free to critique me if it’s not that Good, I‘m practicing :3

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Genos x GN Reader

Hurt/Comfort

Potential TW: Nightmares, Trauma probably, slight mentions of gore and dead people (very briefly)

Night Terrors

It‘s been long since Genos had Nightmares. Especially ones that were as bad as this one. He couldn’t remember a time where he ever woke up in cold sweat, panting and trying to find something to hold onto like he does right now. He was surprised that he was even able to sweat. He quickly sits up at the edge of his bed, staring down at the floor while he slowly tries to gain back control over his shaky breathing. If he still had a heart, there would be a high chance that it was pounding in his chest right now. Whatever this was, it was fucking with him mentally, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He closes his eyes and tries to re-imagine what he dreamed about. A few pictures flicker in his mind, vaguely taking shape as he tries to concentrate. And then, he sees it. The City he grew up in, shattered windows and destroyed houses, fire everywhere. Glass shards, blood, lifeless bodies laying around. Then there’s him, on the floor, bleeding out with no energy to yell for help, even tho he wish he could say something. Not able to move due to the fact that several of his bones were broken and his organs must’ve been severely damaged. But still, he was the only survivor. He quickly opens his eyes, the uneasy feeling only growing more and more inside of him. Genos feels like crying, throwing up, doing anything but remember that day. That terrible, traumatic day. Small drops of black oil appear in the corner of his eyes, but he quickly wipes them away before they have any chance to fall. He puts the thought aside and sighs, running his hand through his hair. He stares out of the window for a while before he stands up, causing his bed to creak a little under the loss of pressure. Silently, he moves to the door, grabbing the handle and quietly opening it. He‘s being extra careful to not wake his master under any circumstances. That’s the least thing he wishes to do. Burden his Sensei with anymore useless problems. The floor slightly groans underneath him, making him hesitate. He couldn’t just leave like that. His Sensei is important to him after all, and the thought of just disappearing makes him feel bad. He looks at Saitama‘s room door. Nothing. He looks down at the floor and carefully maneuvers through the hallway until he reaches the apartment door. He unlocks it effortlessly and steps outside, carefully closing the door behind him. He leans against the railing and looks up to the moon. It’s shining very brightly along with the millions of stars all around it. If he wasn’t feeling extremely horrible it would’ve probably helped to calm him down. But there‘s only one thing that he thinks might be worth doing right now. One thing that could make him feel better. At least he hopes it would. He reaches for his phone inside of his Pocket and calls his S/O. They effortlessly make him feel better all the time, so why not now? Despite the fact that it’s 2:40 AM, nothing should stop them from meeting up, right? He looks up into the night sky while holding the phone up to his ear. The stars shine very bright today. Almost in a taunting manner. He taps his foot a little out of nervousness, when finally his S/O picks up. "Genos… it’s like… 3AM or something… what’s wrong? Are you okay??" They ask, their voice filled with concern but also obviously with sleepiness. Genos lets out a loud sigh of relief upon hearing their voice "Thank god… listen, I‘m going to explain everything to you, but please… just don’t hang up..." "Of course not… why would I hang up?" They ask, causing him to chuckle a little "I‘m not sure… I guess I just don’t want to burden you." "You‘re never a burden to me… I think it’s great that you called me!" He hears them Shuffle around in their bed, probably sitting up. A click, they probably turned on the lamp on their nightstand. "So, tell me, what’s wrong Genos?"

He starts explaining everything, his horrible dream, what he felt after he woke up, just everything he feels and seems to find important right now. Y/N doesn’t interrupt him once, letting him talk for what feels like hours, even tho he was just talking for probably 10 minutes. After he‘s done he lets out a small sigh "And then I didn’t know what to do, so I just called you I guess… you’re the only person I really trust along with my Sensei after all." There‘s a few seconds of silence, but it doesn’t feel threatening or awkward at all. It’s just… a pleasant silence. It allows him to reorder his thoughts and calm down for a while, before Y/N decides to speak again. "Hey… That seems like some heavy stuff Genos…" they whisper, their voice filled with concern, but still managing to stay gentle and reassuring. "If you‘d like you can stay at my apartment for today! I wouldn’t have anything against you staying over." They day and he swears he can feel their smile through the cellphone.

For a minute, he actually considers it. He loves his S/O, they calm him down, everything about them is comforting to him. Not once have they judged him or thought of him as weird or hard to handle. He‘s a very serious man, and he knows that, but they still manage to keep a little fun in his life. Staying over wouldn’t be a bad idea. Their bed is probably really warm. They could snuggle up together while they rest their head on his chest and he gently caresses their head, twisting a strand of their hair between his fingers. But what about his Master? If he woke up and Genos was simply… gone. How would he react? Sure, he could just leave a note, but it still gives him an icky feeling in his stomach. "That‘s a very nice and tempting invitation, but I have to say no. Sorry. I can’t leave my Sensei in the middle of the night. Tomorrow is Sales day at the convenience store and I need to make sure we‘re on time." His response causes them to giggle a little, making his cheeks heat up a tiny bit. Oh how much he loves their little laughs.. "Alright whatever you say. We can just continue talking like this if you feel like it!" They say and he sighs in relief. They talk through the whole night, sharing some secrets, telling a few jokes and just having lots of fun in general. It works like a charm, and Genos ends up not feeling horrible anymore. Of course, the memories will never really fade, but his S/O makes everything easier. As he looks up he can see the soft orange poke the blue sky. The sun is already coming up. "Have we really talked this long??" Y/N asks, a small yawn leaving their mouth. "It seems so. You should try and get a little bit of sleep. I kept you up long." Genos mumbles and doesn’t take his eyes off of the artistic picture in the sky. What a sight it was. Y/N can be heard shifting around in their bed "Are you feeling better?" They ask and Genos smiles a little bit, even tho he knows that they can’t see it "Yeah I do. You really got me through the night. Thank you for always being there for me. You’re amazing." He whispers and turns around to walk back inside the apartment "Alright Babe, take care okay? And call me if anything happens! Love you!" They say, their voice obviously sounding tired. Before they can hang up he replies with an 'Love you too.', causing his S/O to smile on the other line. He puts his phone into his pocket and opens the door, walking back inside the apartment while the orange sky kisses the Night.

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Heyyy I hope you liked it! I tried my best to make it long and I think it’s an actual decent size! If you have any criticism feel free to drop it in my DMs! I also think I accidentally messed up the prompt cuz I had to rewrite it 3 times cuz my brain didn’t process the request 👹 Oh well, it’s too late now. Have a nice day/night and remember to drink some water! <3

#one punch man x reader #one punch man #Opm #genos #genos opm #genos x reader

[91percentpynch]

jean moreau x pride months

happy pride month kids, here‘s some wholesome jerejean content for your soul!! does this make any sense? no. is it a mess? yes. hope you enjoy this!!

the first pride month

it‘s the beginning of june and jeremy starts acting weird

he smiles more, the real smile normally reserved for winning an exy game or when he‘s alone with jean

he started drawing flags on his face or on his eye lids, jeremy never wore make-up, not more than his usual eyeliner and nail polish

„what does that mean?“, jean asks, pointing at the flags on his cheeks.

„the pink, yellow, blue one means i‘m pan. you know, i like more than one gender, i told you that already. and the grey, purple, white and black one that looks like an arrow? that means i‘m demisexual, you know how i only feel sexual attraction to people i have a bond with? that‘s demisexual. those are pride flags, it‘s pride month. didn‘t you know that?“

of course jean didn‘t know, after all he was locked up in a bassement for 10 years and he didn‘t exactly talk the first time he came over here last year at the end of june.

„what‘s pride month?“, jean asked softly, knowing that jeremy would never judge him, never think he was stupid.

„it‘s a month for lgbtqa+ folks. that stands for lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender, questioning, asexuals, aromantics and everything inbetween. we celebrate ourselves this month, show how proud we are of ourselves and our community. we celebrate marsh johnson, the black transgender, gay sex worker who started the riots, stonewell, and basically threw a brick at a police officer and started the fight for gay rights“

„how do you know you‘re not straight?“, jean asked quietly. thinking about the way his mind keeps wandering back to jeremy, keeps wandering back to the thought of kissing him, holding his hand, the feeling of his soft, badly dyed ginger hair between his fingers.

„well i always payed more attention to the personality, than the gender. i never really cared what‘s between the legs. and it took me quite a while to figure out that i only feel sexual attraction to people when i have a connection to them“

„have you ever kissed a guy?“, jean asked, curiously now. in the nest it was forbidden, but kevin wanted to try it once, in the dark of the night, the saftey of their room. jean couldn‘t tell if he enjoyed it or not, he never really felt any kind of attraction really. only bone deep fear. burning anger. and whatever the fuck his heart was doing when kevin held him close.

„yeah, i had a boyfriend throughout highschool, sophmore year until the end of summer of our senior year. and then freshman year of college i had this girlfriend who was really controlling and yeah. that‘s it. have you?“, his voice was soft, it reminded jean of the sunlight forming some kind of halo behind jeremy.

„kevin wanted to try it once. riko caught us. that‘s how it began“, jean replied, a shadow crossing over both his and jeremy‘s face. in a moment of weakness, at the beginning, jean told jeremy what they did to him in the nest, after jeremy accidentally touched him from behind.

„do you want to try it again?“, jeremy asked, a small smile on his lips. „with me, that is“, he added, barely audible.

„okay“, jean replied, leaning in.

jean was a couple inches taller than jeremy, and jeremy had to stand on his tiptoes to close the last few inches between them.

it was a soft kiss, a different than the stolen ones from kevin. better. these tasted like sunlight, like warmth, like home.

jean kissed jeremy back. carefully, softly, being scared he would break him, destroy him with his darkness.

„how was it?“, jeremy smiled at him after they were done, exchanging kisses, not stealing them. they were equals, no one would hurt him for wanting this

„i think i‘m only attracted to you“, jean admitted quietly. „but like not sexually. i don‘t like sex. never did. i never thought anyone was sexually attractive, i never wanted this and i still don‘t. i‘m sorry“

„you don‘t have to apologize, jean. that‘s being called asexual, the lack of sexual attraciton that is. and the not wanting sex part? sex repulsed. very valid. i will never be like them, i will never force you to do anyhting you‘re not comfortable with“

„and what if you miss having sex and want it and i can‘t give it to you?“, jean asked, tears burning behind his eyes. „i‘m not worth of your light, your warmth, your love as it is. i‘m broken, i‘m dark, i‘m everything you don‘t deserve. you deserve someone who is fixed and happy and can give you the entire world and go places without a panic attack and and and“

„ssh, jean. it‘s alright. it‘s alright. i want you. no one but you. i really, really like you and i am glad you like me to. you‘re not broken, you‘re not dark. you are wonderful. and no one is fixed, we‘re all a little broken in our own ways. i struggled with an eating disorder. i have adhd. sometimes i feel a little sad without any reason and can‘t get out of bed. sometimes i can‘t sleep and other days i could sleep for days. i don‘t need the entire world, i just need you“

it was this june, about a year after jean arrived in california, that he not only found a person who saw more in him than his scars, but a person who loved him not despite of them but for them

the second pride month

it‘s been a year since jean and jeremy kissed for the first time. a year full of highs and lows, fights and making up, miscommunication and cuddles, sweet kisses and ones tasting of tears. but it was also the year jean figured out that he might not be a boy after all.

„do you ever feel like you‘re not a entirely a boy?“, jean asked softly, threading his fingers through jeremy‘s soft blonde hair.

„dude, i‘m genderfluid, remember? alvarez bursted in our room and threw these in our face so people could refer to me with the right pronouns“

„that‘s why you changed your middle name to sol isn‘t it? because you like the sun and you like your hispanic heritage and it‘s a female name?“

„exactamente mi corazón“

„what are you today?“, jean asked softly, as he did every day.

„they/them, i don‘t feel like a guy or a girl today. just vibing“

„i- i think i‘m not entirely a boy either. like i know i was born as a boy and i‘m okay with that. but i feel like there‘s more to that. i can‘t put it in words but i think i want to try to go by he/ they. what do you call those people who don‘t quite find in the binary? i think i‘m that“

„that‘s nonbinary darling. i‘m proud of you. you‘re doing great“

jean didn‘t know how to repeat to that so he just decided to pull jeremy closer to him.

this pride month jean found a little part of himself, another puzzle piece to the mystery that his own person and it felt like a tiny little step towards a future he never dreamt he would have.

it was also the month he started wearing nail polish, because he loved the look on jeremy‘s face when they did them. occasionally he will wear some eyeliner.

the third pride month

another year passed, this year jean got himself a support dog. to help with the anxiety attacks. to help him heal.

it‘s a dalmatiner, called luna. she was trained to feel when he is uncomfortable and come closer to him, licking his hands, being close, being there

it is also the month he wanted to join jeremy for pride

„what are you today?“

„a girl i think. jeremy or sol are both fine“

„will you draw the flags on my face?“, he asked on the day of the parade.

„are you sure you want to go honey?“, sol asked softy, while she went to the bathroom to get her things.

„would i have asked if it wasn‘t moi amour?“, jean replied. „wait hold on, don‘t answer that“, he laughed looking at jeremy‘s face.

„but i‘m sure. first of all it makes you happy. second of all you missed it the last two years. third of all it will piss kevin off and i love that almost as much as i love. and lastly i have luna, she makes sure i‘m fine and i can always leave when i feel uncomfortable“

„okay, babe. what do you want me to do?“

„i want my flags on my face and maybe you can do my nails“, jean replied, smiling at jeremy as he did ever so often. „cover the tatoo, will you?“, he asked softly, touching the cursed three, counting the days for his cover up appointment in july.

„it‘s soon gone honey. it‘s gonna be alright“, jeremy whispered, feeling the tension in jean‘s shoulders.

„which color do you want your nails? mine are pastel rainbow look! alvarez got me those for my birthday last month! do you want matching nails?“

„whatever you want darling, you can choose“

„neat!“

this year jeremy‘s hair were a soft pink. it was 2 am when he bursted into the room whisper shouting „jean i‘m gay i must do something drastic to my hair. help me?“ and who was jean to question his beautiful date mate.

so jeremy took jean‘s face carefully in his hands, starting to draw jean‘s pride flags (demiromantic, asexual, nonbinary) on his face, hiding his tattoo underneath the black/ white/grey/ purple stripes of the asexual pride flag.

„they have no power over you anymore mi corazón. and if anyone gives you shit i will come for them“, jeremy whisperes against jean‘s lips before softly kissing them. „and now give me your beautiful hands so i can do your nails. i‘m feeling a pastel rainbow“

for the parade jean is wearing one of the shirts jeremy got him. it‘s yellow with a rainbow on it. „so you have a little brightness in your life“, he would tell him when he go it for him. it was before they started dating. it was before jean was able to tell him „but you are the brightest thing in the world and somehow you chose me as your person“, paired with light blue ripped jeans and his yellow fans. they started wearing yellow when they came to california, cutting off black completely, replacing it with colors and brightness.

jeremy on the other hand wore rainbow dungarees with a white shirt and white doc martens. his hair was up in two space buns, little pride flags put into them.

„do you think they get the hint?“, she smiled with a blinding smile.

„you‘re so unbelieveably beautiful sol“, jean replied.

they got luna and went to the parade.

it was scary, yes. but it was also beautiful.

people approaching them, asking for selfies, talking to him.

at first he was a bit anxious, but sol took their hand and luna licked his feet and it was alright. no one was hurting him. no one would punish him. he was surrounded by pride and love and happiness.

at some point he asked a girl with rainbow hair, she reminded him of renee, if she could take a picture of him and jeremy. she said yes, took one of them smiling, one of them kissing, and one of them where jeremy just smiled at his person.

it was the pride month he came out via social media. it was the pride month kevin called at two am, telling him how happy he was for them. that he himself found a boy, fell for him, but is too much a coward to do something about it. it‘s the year where he gets a lot of love, many fans telling him how proud they are of him and at least the same amount of hate. but it was alright. they had jeremy and that was all that truly mattered.

now

year after year they returned to the pride parade, with flags on their faces, or around their shoulders

sometimes neil and andrew or aaron and kevin would join them, sometimes they would go with laila and alvarez and sometimes jean and jeremy would go on their own

after college jean quit exy, jeremy went pro and gave his money to moriyamas, while jean opened his own tattoo studio, wrote songs, wrote crappy poetry and slightly better novels, tried himself as a part time model and fashion designer

they found happiness and home in each other and celebrated their love not only in pride but also every single day of the year

jean and jeremy got more dogs, an apartment of their own with big windows so they could watch the sunrise and sunset together

they have their ups and downs, like every other couple, but that doesn‘t matter. never did. what truly matters is that they keep finding back to each other. that they keep ending up in the same bed, in each others arms.

jean moreau never believed in love, never believed in soulmates and yet he found their soulmate, found the love of his life. and they are happy they stayed, kept fighting, to find this. to make a difference to the world. to be finally free. to be alive, living instead of only existing.

„jean?“, jermey says, fidgeting with his fingers.

„what is it moi soleil?“, jean relies getting lost in these ocean blue eyes.

„do you remember what happened five years ago?“, jeremy asks, his eyes looking anywhere but jean.

„we kissed for the first time?“, jean answers, panic slowly crawling through his veins.

„exactly so i thought we could celebrate this at the beach. you know, where our first date was?“, jeremy says nervously.

„honey are you alrighgt?“, jean is getting more and more worried, jeremy has never been that nervous.

„sure, come on mi corazón“

so jean slowly gets up and carefully puts on his shoes. something is weird here, something is wrong

jeremy seems off the entire ride to the beach they had their first date at.

when they arrive jean takes jeremy‘s hand, noticing that they are shaking ever so slightly. it is something like a nervous tick of them.

jean and jeremy arrive at the beach in time to watch the sun setting, making place for her lover the moon.

jean looks over to jeremy, when they suddenly get up and start pacing.

„jer, you‘re scaring me. please tell me what‘s going on up there“, jean says touching his head lightly.

„okay. i can do this“, jeremy mumbles as he gets down on his knee. „jean moreau, you are the love of my life. the light of my existence. ever since i saw you for the first time i knew i liked you, more than i was supposed to. i never dared to hope you would ever like me, or love me for that matter, but somehow you did. somehow you didn‘t turn away when i told you i‘m demi or pan or genderfluid. you stayed. you supported me. you love me. and i want to spend the rest of my life with you, so do me the favour and in the name of god, should they exist, do me the favour and marry me“

jean feels tears running his cheeks. „of course i will marry you, you loser“, he laughs, as he pulls jeremy down to him and connects their lips together. and it feels like their first kiss. it always does. and they would do that for the rest of their lives.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #jeremy knox #jean moreau #jerejean #jeremy knox x jean moreau #ship: jerejean

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 10+CG)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!♡

Monologue

The interior of Scarlet’s mansion was now completely different than it used to be as everyone felt a certain sense of urgency to claim the seat as the supreme ruler.

The main cause of this is because of Shu and Reiji-san.

A few days have passed since the fight took place, but the relationship between both of them is still as perilous as it has always been. Even if they have to face each other, not a single word is exchanged between them.

While I and Yuma-kun, didn’t even try to hide our confusion about what happened, Kino-kun viewed this situation as rather optimistic.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Corridor

Yui: (I think I’ve never witnessed such a quarrel between brothers in the Sakamaki mansion before… I wonder what caused this to happen?)

(There are still so many things I need to talk to him about, including the state of everyone’s memories and the mastermind’s intentions)

(But since especially Shu and Reiji-san can’t reconcile, we won’t be able to move on in any sort of way)

...I’ve got no choice, but to have a daringly talk with him about this matter then.

*Yui knocks*

Yui: Shu-san, it’s me. Would you mind if I come in?

Shu: ...Do as you please.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu‘s bedroom

Yui: Pardon me.

(Shu-san, he’s laying in his bed… which means he was probably sleeping until I entered)

Excuse me, were you sleeping?

Shu: Yes… but I was getting tired of lying in bed all day, so you didn’t particularly disturb me.

Yui: I wish there could’ve at least been a music mechanism to listen to music while staying in here.

Shu: You’re clearly pining something we can’t have in this house.

Leaving that aside, come here.

Yui: Eh? Do you need anything?

Uwah...

(Ugh, he pushed me… !)

Shu: It won’t feel as bored as I do, if you’re lying next to me.

Yui: I-If that’s so… I’ll gladly come closer.

Shu: You must really like the feeling of being held in my arms. It’s good to have a body pillow like you anyway.

Yui: Ah, was that a different way of saying that I’m somehow stout?

Shu: Fufu, who knows?

Yui: Come on… I can clearly see you’re laughing.

Shu: You shouldn‘t worry about these extraordinary things. You can at least accompany me with your nonexisting body while laying in bed.

Yui: (...Don’t say these things while you’re looking at my chest like this. You shouldn’t act like Ayato-kun would…)

Yui: (But it seems as if Shu-san’s in a good mood again. Maybe now’s the perfect time to ask him about Reiji-san)

Ah, about what happened with Reiji-san...

Shu: ...Why are you mentioning that name now of all time?

Yui: Err… umm… because you two didn’t act normal back then in the hallway… that’s all I want to know.

Shu: ...Aha.

Yui: (And of course once I just slightly mention Reiji-san’s name, he starts to act all pouty over it…)

(How badly I wish for them to reconcile. However, knowing their circumstances, this is impossible for me to say to him)

*Shu pushes Yui away*

Shu: Now that I’ve heard that unpleasant name, I want to go to sleep again. Listen, you have to remember this. Don’t get involved in unnecessary trouble.

Yui: Ah… y-yes.

(As soon as I tried getting up from his bed… I noticed how he formed wrinkles in the area between his eyebrows)

(It’s so unusual for him to set up this kind of stature, because of a small thing like this. Is he really mad at me for what I said?)

*someone harshly opens door*

Yuma: Hey, Shu! You here!?

Yui: Yuma-kun!?

Yuma: What? You were with Eve together here? Well, you’re still her guard, so I guess that justified this.

Shu: Don’t enter my room so abruptly.

Yuma: There‘s no particular reason to care about that, we’re still siblings after all.

Apart from that, I’ve brought something really good with me that should make you feel better.

Yui: Something good?

Yuma: Correct. I’ve also got a portion prepared for you, don’t worry.

C’mon, look! These are some sugar cubes I reserved!

Yui: ...Eh?

Shu: ...Hah? Why did you bring sugar cubes with you?

Yuma: I brought them with me because they were coming along with other stuff in the supply box today.

I actually planned to have them all for myself, but they’re this special that I had to share them.

Shu: I don’t especially need them.

Yuma: Don’t decline them like that! Whenever you get irritated, sweet things are always the best choice to make.

Shu: I can’t get the meaning of eating such things as sweet food anyway.

Yuma: You haven‘t experienced the strength these sugar cubes have within them then. You’ll understand how tasty they are once you at least try one of them.

Yui: (Perhaps Yuma-kun’s expressing how worried he was about Shu-san in his very own way right now)

By any chance, did you come over here to encourage and cheer up Shu-san after what happened recently?

Yuma: Hah? Ahh, if you want to call it that...

But I was concerned about you both, since it’s not normal for us as brothers to start squabbling and mocking each other like that.

So as I expected, you have a rather hard time laughing this off recently.

Yui: I see… thank you.

Yuma: Hah? Why are you being so grateful all of the sudden? Weird woman.

Shu: You seriously meant what you said about checking on me and Reiji because you were concerned?

Yuma: That’s exactly what I said just now. I thought there must’ve been more behind it than you two showed.

Listen, I always see you either sleeping or looking totally bored with no sense of motivation on your face whatsoever.

Yui: (Err, this might be an awful topic right now…)

Yuma: But, sharing your thoughts to make others understand, is what a real man should do.

I know I’ve got no right to break into your trouble with each other, yet we’re family and I want to understand this matter.

I mean, even that chap Reiji noticed how he made a fool of himself because of that. That‘s why, I hope you’ll be vigorous soon again, big brother.

Shu: It’s a somehow strange feeling to have you treat me like an older brother. 

Yuma: Hah? To say it like that, even though I went through the trouble telling you that.

Shu: Not that I begged you to tell me though.

Yuma: Hah!? Jeez, at least I’m honest about my feelings.

♡Roses♡

Yui‘s head: Hey, what‘s there to laugh about? Don‘t you feel bad for doing so now?

Yuma’s chest: No matter the circumstances, you really seem to never change yourself.

Yui: Fufu...

Yuma: Hey, Eve. What are you laughing at?

Yui: Ah, sorry. I somehow felt glad while hearing that.

(Although this entire situation is messy, it seems as if Shu-san and Yuma-kun are getting along quite well. I’m really happy about that)

Shu-san. Now that Yuma-kun went through the trouble bringing these to you, why don’t you eat them?

Shu: Haa… I’ve already told you that I’m not going to.

Your blood has probably way better taste than those sugar cubes do anyway.

Yui: W-What are you saying!? Don’t do that in front of Yuma-kun...

Shu: This should be irrelevant to another man listening. Aren’t you my property to begin with?

Yui: H-Hold on, Shu-san… !

Yuma: You two are somehow… getting incredible well along, aren’t you?

Don’t tell me, did you make Eve your girlfriend all of a sudden already?

Shu: That’s right.

Yuma: Hah!? For real!? Since when!?

Yui: A-Ah… Shu-san! Please come over here for a second!

*Yui pulls Shu aside*

Shu: What is it? For you to immediately grab my arm like that.

Yui: Is it really okay for you to tell him that? Yuma-kun doesn’t remember anything yet, and exactly because of that, he could still go against us… !

Shu: I don’t particularly mind. We’re telling him nothing else but the truth anyway.

Yui: Y-You’re right...

Shu: Didn’t you want to approach someone about this situation to begin with?

Choices

1) Honestly convey him (white)♡♡♡

2) Hide the truth from him (black)

— Honestly convey him♡

Yui: (It may be embarrassing to admit for me, but we need to honestly convey him)

No... that’s not true.

Even you as my lover were impressed by Yuma-kun, who would gladly do something to make you happy again. 

Shu: Heh… if so, it’s fine not to keep our secret anymore?

This way I wouldn’t have to necessarily hide you from all of the family members anymore.

— Hide the truth from him

Yui: I think it would be better… if we stay silent about this.

Shu: Then you could either tell Yuma this was a convenient and childish prank I put upon him

Or you go ahead and choose to stay to the truth, which is us being lovers.

Yui: Is that so...

Shu: You did look more happy than serious despite me telling him the truth all of the sudden anyway.

Yui: (That was… because I’d obviously be happy if someone introduced me as their lover)

(It really seems as if Shu-san’s able to see through everything I think about… I’m no match for him after all)

end Choices

Yuma: ...You know, both of you. I’d appreciate it if you could continue flirting once I left the room or whatever.

Yui: Eh… ! That wasn’t additionally our intention… !

Yuma: I was gonna leave anyway. This way I won‘t be an impediment on your doing.

Shu: Wait, Yuma. I need you to listen to a favor I have to ask.

Yuma: What is it? No need to be formal.

Shu: In case of an emergency, I wish for you to protect her instead of me.

Yui: Eh...

Yuma: Hah...? What are you suddenly blabbering about?

Shu: With my current circumstances, I might be at fault to get involved in another bad situation.

However, I place enough trust in you, because I do believe you’re a really reliable guy, to protect her in those given circumstances.

Therefore, I’ll rely on you and entrust this person to you, once the time to do so might come.

Yui: (Shu-san, what are you talking about? It’s as if you’re hinting at something happening…)

Shu-san...? Why are you saying this?

Yuma: She’s right. Stop saying these weird things, while you have such a serious face on.

On the contrary, if you suddenly start calling out for this sort of occurence to happen, there’s no way I’d not be terrified at first.

Shu: …..

Yui: (Shu-san… what‘s going through your head right now? This is somehow giving me a presentiment feeling…)

Yuma: But, okay… if anything is going to happen any time soon, you can surely rely on me.

Shu: Yes… I entrust her to you. 

Yuma: We have an agreement then. Well, just eat the sugar cubes I gave you, and make sure to cheer up.

See ya.

*Yuma leaves*

Yui: Ah… why did you promptly tell Yuma-kun to do such a thing… ?

Shu: You don’t have to worry about that.

Yui: But...

Shu: It’ll be fine. There’s no need for you to worry about anything.

Yui: (Those domineering eyes...)

(There may be more to this than he wants to admit, but if Shu-san tells me not to think about it too much, then—)

…Okay, fine. I won’t continue to ask anymore.

(I’ll keep believing in you, in Shu-san’s abilities)

Shu: Yes, leave it to me… and with this, this is the end of this topic.

Yui: Fine with me. Then, why don’t you eat the sugarcubes you’ve received from Yuma-kun now?

Shu: I won’t eat those sugary things. Why don’t you eat it instead?

Yui: Don‘t say such a harsh thing. After all, you got this as a gift to cheer up from Yuma-kun.

Shu: I’ve been telling you this some time ago already, didn’t I?

Yui: Ah… Shu-san.

Shu: Your blood is more appetizing and sweet-tasting compared to these sugar cubes.

I have my preferences, even if Yuma tried to cheer me up with these.

Wouldn’t it be natural for you as my lover to sympathize with me over such a fact?

Yui: …But a while ago, didn’t you say you don’t enjoy sweet food?

Shu: Don’t bother making me say it again. Your blood is the only special exception for me… No.

The taste your blood has makes me lose my mind every time over again. The reason I’m obsessed with it, is none other than its hot feeling which could make someone melt away.

Yui: ….. !

(For him to suddenly say all these things… I can’t possibly resist him like this)

Okay, I get it. Please drink as much as you like, until you feel satisfied.

Shu: Continue to leave your entire body to me. Your blood is to me, above anything else, tremendously delicious.

Yui: (Nn… he gently brushed my cheeks. It’s a good feeling having him do this…)

Shu: As I told you. This hot liquid makes anyone feel as if they had better dissolved.

I’ll have to diligently prepare it to make it digest then. You should know I usually wouldn’t bring up the time to do so.

Yui: (His fingers are at the nape of my neck… I feel them touching the outline of it)

(Seems as if he indeedly is going to suck my blood from this place)

Shu: What? You almost seem to run out of breath. Have you imagined me sucking your blood in the spot I’m currently touching?

Yui: Y-Yes...

Shu: At least you’re being honest today. Well, in that case I might just do as you wish… Nn...

Yui: Nn, Ah...

(His fangs pierced my neck… and my body already feels like heating up, despite him just starting)

Nn, Shu-san...

Shu: I understand. I won‘t restrain any longer then… Nn… Nn...

Yui: Ngh… Ah...

(The place he inserted his fangs is even hotter now... No, the blood flowing inside is what got hotter)

(So this is how it feels to be enlivened? It feels as if it’s my life, what he‘s currently sucking up)

(I wish for my blood to be able to continue satisfying Shu-san‘s life, despite it might overcoming him)

Shu: ...Nn… Nn...

Yui: (No matter what it takes, among all the things I can do, I’d especially do anything in order to keep Shu-san safe—)

#Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translation #chaos lineage translation #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki translation #Shuu Sakamaki #shuu sakamaki translation #diabolik lovers shuu sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki translation #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shuu sakamaki #sakamaki shu #shu sakamaki translation #Shu Sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage shu sakamaki #kyouxa

[ct-7386]

Lost and Found pt1

[Here is the second chronological thread! This will have another part (which I will tag accordingly) so keep an eye out for that! I had a lot of fun with this particular thread because it really helped me figure out 86's personality some more - and had the added benefit of letting me rp with the lovely mun of Commander Thire ^^

As always, if I forget any warnings, please let me know!]

Authors: myself and @cc-4477commanderthire Characters: Commander Thire (them); CT-7386, (me) Rating: T TW: depicted depression and anxiety; referenced isolation (self-imposed and imposed by others); referenced assisted suicide

Mando'a Guide: Udesii - take it easy, calm down Ni'ne - [fan-made], sorry (not as intense as n'eparavu takisit or ni ceta) Vor entye - thank you

86 receives a comm in the late afternoon, a few hours before the end of his shift.

CT-7386,

Meet me in my office once your shift is over.

Commander Thire

He swallows nervously and returns his attention to the hallway he’s walking down on his way to the last senator to have requested him for the day. What could his commanding officer want him for? Have I done something wrong?

Finally, when the sun has set and the sky is bright with the traffic and business of a city that never sleeps, 86 trudges back from the Rotunda and through Guard Headquarters. It’s long after most of his vode will have had late-meal, and he can only hope that the commander won’t be too upset about him showing up so late.

86 hesitates in front of Thire’s office door. He reaches up and slips off his bucket - mostly so that he’ll have something in his hands to give him something to fidget with. Then, with a slightly shaky breath, he knocks on the door and steps inside when it opens.

“C-Commander Thire, sir?” he asks, voice quiet to hide how it wants to tremble. “I - I’m sorry it’s s-so late, sir.”

The office is dimly lit, and only the data pads illuminate the commander. Thire looks up from his work and gestures for the trooper to take a seat in front of his chair. "Don‘t worry about it. Have you eaten yet?"

He gets up and walks around the table to switch the overhead light on, "I haven‘t eaten yet, so if you don‘t mind we can have some together."

86 sits, bucket clutched in his lap. “No sir, I haven’t - haven’t eaten yet. My shift only j-just ended.”

Of course, he’s so tense and anxious that he doesn’t know if he can stomach food, even an unappetizing ration bar, but who is he to tell a commander no?

Thire hums softly and places reheated mess food in front of the trooper. He may have planned this and purposely not eaten so far. He sits down behind his own desk, "Do you have a name yet?"

Fox told him about this particular case, but he wants to offer the other some control over the situation by asking a few simple questions.

Suddenly 86 is afraid he knows what this is about. Every moment of the last week runs quickly across his vision like a holofilm, and he sees his confrontation with Cory and his confession to Fox all over again. It sends a dull throb through his skull, and he bites back a wince.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, unable to look up from the food; nausea swims in his gut, though he can’t pinpoint the exact source. “I don’t - I go by my n-number, sir, or 86.”

He takes a breath meant to steady him. “I don’t - I don’t know what the Commander told you,” 86 glances up to check if his suspicions are correct, “but I don’t deserve a name.” Quieter, more to himself, he adds, “It’s not like - like anyone would use it anyway.”

Thire gets up and walks around to 86. He leans against his desk and searches for 86‘ glance, "What Fox told me was that it was our collective failure that we didn‘t realize you were struggling earlier. And he‘s certainly right about that."

Quietly he adds, "Having a name means that you are your own person, 86. A person who has a past, hopes, dreams and fears. It means that you have a personality. That there are things you like and don‘t like. You deserve a name because you are someone. Someone who matters. And that‘s why you get to have a name and choose it for yourself."

It‘s been a while since he told someone that. Thire does feel ashamed that he never properly checked how his men were holding up. He promised himself to be better years ago and he needs to act on it.

He holds his helmet tight to his chest. “I have a - a past, and I have fears, but - th-those are all I have.” Tears begin to burn at the backs of his eyes. “I g-gave up any right to anything - anything else when I decided it was alright to kill my kih’vode re-regardless of our circumstances.”

86’s voice hardens slightly, and he meets Thire’s gaze. “And - And whatever Fox may say, wh-whatever you believe, the situation I’m in is - is my fault. My choices led me here, and I was prepared to face - face the consequences of those choices when I m-made them.”

That burning won’t go away, and it’s getting a little hard to breathe. Kark why is he such a baby?

(He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince anymore.)

Thire‘s gaze softens, “You are not responsible for your circumstances. And you made a hard choice. That‘s okay, and it happens.”

He uncrosses his arms and lets his hands fall to his sides, palm open, “If you don‘t have dreams now then they‘ll come again, at some point. That doesn‘t rob you of your right to individuality. Your right to be a person.”

He feels bad to throw all of this at 86 at once. 86 is his own person and Thire‘s guilt about something else in the past shouldn‘t play a part in this. Instead he asks softly, “Can I touch you?”

86 thinks of his greenhouse in the lower halls, of the safe place he has been slowly carving out for himself. The need that he has for such a space… could that be classified as a wish? A dream? He doesn’t know. All he does know is that all of his dreams have been - or turned into - nightmares so far.

At Thire’s question, he stiffens slightly. All touch recently has been bad touch, so this good thing catches him off guard - but he nods anyway, hoping none of his thoughts make it onto his face. “Yes,” he adds out loud for good measure.

Thire gently places a hand on 86‘s shoulder and softly pulls him forward. It‘s a light touch but with the clear intent to hold him close. Thire‘s thumb lightly strokes his shoulder in a soothing motion. Softly he says, “Have you talked to a medic yet?”

He feels sorry for the trooper who looks like a loth cat caught in headlights. But they‘ll have to make an effort to reach out to show 86 that he is wanted and there are brothers who care about him specifically.

86 allows himself to be pulled in - and finds himself slumping against Thire’s chest. Tingles arc across his skin from the place Thire’s thumb strokes his shoulder, and tears swell unbidden in his eyes.

He shakes his head and sniffles, though he tries to keep it quiet. “N-No,” he answers shakily without moving. “Not - Not yet. F-Fox suggested - suggested CMO Paws. I think… I’ll go, m-maybe. Th-There’s still all of this going on, and I can’t - I won’t -” 86 shakes his head again and whines a little in frustration, but mostly at all the emotions coursing through him that he doesn’t really understand. He doesn’t know what’s going on, only that he thinks this feels nice, feels warm.

Thire simply wraps his arms around 86 and pulls him close. Quietly he says, "Udesii, vod‘ika. I have you."

Softly he hums a slow melody and gently continues to stroke over 86‘ back. It is physically painful to see his vod‘ika suffer like that.

The increase in physical contact has 86 shuddering and keening desperately. “Ni’ne,” he cries into Thire’s chest, “ni’ne, ni’ne, ni’ne…”

After a few minutes, 86 manages to swallow his sobs, though he’s still shaking, and he doesn’t move to pull away from the embrace. He even reaches up and clutches at the edges of Thire’s armor to ground himself.

“I’m s-sorry,” he sniffles again. “I don’t - I don’t kn-know what’s - what’s wrong.”

Thire holds him even tighter and softly whispers, “There‘s nothing to be sorry for, vod‘ika.”

His heart breaks a little at the sobs and he wonders how long it‘s been since someone held 86 close. He gently rakes his fingers through the trooper's hair and hums comfortingly, “You‘re doing good. I‘m proud of you.”

It‘s not said very loud but Thire means it nevertheless.

86 completely melts, letting himself fall apart in the safety of a vod’s embrace. Thire is proud of him? The idea of it, the emotion that comes with it, is unfamiliar. He has always been the ori’vod; he doesn’t know how to handle this shift in his self-perceived place in the world. But for some reason, it soothes just a few of his jagged edges.

Eventually, his sobs ease into nothing more than an occasional hitch in his breathing; he’s practically asleep, Thire’s fingers in his hair relaxing him more than he’s been in years, and his chest fills with warmth every time the commander carefully avoids the transmitters of his implants. He’s being cared for, not rejected - like a proper vod, by a vod. 86’ next inhale hitches just slightly, but he has no more tears to cry.

Still boneless against his superior, 86 manages to mumble, “What - What did you wanna s-see me for, sir?”

Thire takes a moment to consider the situation before softly saying, “I wanted to talk to you and check in on you.” He was worried about 86 giving up entirely and ending it but he won‘t tell him that. No need to give the other ideas or the false impression that he needs to be on the brink of eating his gun for someone to care.

So, he softly adds, “A squad should be a family and yours doesn‘t offer you that sort of environment. I wanted to tell you that you can have family wherever, it‘s not limited to the people you work with. You can pick your own friends and family and…” Thire smiles down at 86, “I would very much like to be part of that. But it‘s your choice, vod‘ika. Pick people that make you feel saved and loved, because that‘s what you deserve.”

He moves down so that they are face to face and leans into a soft keldabe, “And I promise, these people exist. You just have to look for them and allow them to love you.”

86 presses into the keldabe, eyes scrunched shut and face screwed up to fight the dry burning in his eyes; he wants to cry, but he’s exhausted himself.

His breath hitches, chest tightening. “My squad - I f-failed them. I can n-never make it to pat-trol with them, I h-hardly eat with th-them… How can they - they not dist-trust me? Th-They even requested an - an extra vod to t-take my place, and they got him, howe-ever they pulled th-that off; I'm - I'm only part of Vada Squad on paper." 86 is confused. Doesn't Thire know that? Isn't it the commander who approves squad formations?”

“My - M-My last family was my b-batch,” he whispers, “and I killed them. Th-They were everything to m-me. We weren’t - We w-were kept separated from the - from the oth-thers, so the six of us… we were all w-we had. For three years n-no one has wanted - wanted to t-talk to the strange vod wh-who showed up out of n-nowhere.”

Somehow, his body manages to produce three more tears to ease the ache in his red and swollen eyes, and he sobs, “Wh-What’s changed? What’s changed?”

Thire looks away for a moment. “I… No one… had realized how alone you were or that you had nobody until it escalated. And that was a terrible mistake, but it doesn‘t mean that it has anything to do with you personally.”

He pulls 86‘ face into his shoulder and quietly says, “I know that this is hard and that it‘s asking a lot. But can you believe me that none of us did it on purpose? Can you give us a second chance to prove that we actually care?”

He knows that that is a lot to ask. But there is no other way to get through this. 86 needs to give his brothers a second chance and try to trust that they genuinely care now. If he doesn‘t at least try, then they have already lost and no chance to fix this and help their vod‘ika.

“I don’t know,” he sobs, holding on tighter. “I don’t know.”

This time 86 tries to pull himself back together, to keep himself coherent and not a blubbering mess. He’s only partially successful.

“I - I know it w-wasn’t on p-purpose, it was m-my fault, and I could - could n-never blame y-you for that.”

86 has a decision to make. Thire has presented him his choices, and now 86 has to decide if he’ll let himself be swallowed by his own darkness, the darkness he fights to keep from his vode, or if he’ll accept the light being offered him.

He thinks of his batch, of what they had all wanted for each other, of the secrets and the dreams they had whispered in the safety of the night cycle. He thinks of his vode, how he wants nothing more than to help them, how he really does care for them even if they don’t reciprocate it. He thinks of himself and how he has fought and struggled to make it this far - and he’s done it on his own. But now… Now there’s a chance for things to change, for him to change.

Fox and Thire believe he’s a person and that he deserves to be loved and cared for. 86 may not believe them, not yet, but… he wants to. He wants to.

In the end, the choice is rather simple. By wanting, 86 knows he is human, and all that’s left is for him to trust Fox and Thire. It’s a tiny step, because he has always trusted his vode (and now he needs to trust them with himself).

“I trust you,” he breathes. “I trust you.”

It’s all he can give right now, but he hopes that Thire will understand - understand that it’s not belief, that it’s not knowing, that 86 is trusting him to see the situation from an outside perspective, that he is trusting Thire with himself.

It’s all he can give.

But he’s always given himself for his brothers.

(Maybe it’s time he trusted them to keep him.)

Thire gently pulls him close and hugs him tightly, “Thank you”, he whispers softly. “This is the greatest gift you can ever give someone.”

He slowly continues to rock 86 back and forth and hums softly to calm the trooper down.

86 continues to hold on tightly, even as he feels himself slowly, slowly start to calm down, breathing evening out and body relaxing until he’s on the edge of sleep. He’s still awake, still aware, but everything feels hazy and distant.

“Vor entye,” he murmurs into Thire’s shoulder.

Thire lets his vod’ika sleep in his arms despite it being rather uncomfortable. He moves them to the floor and hugs 86 close. Slowly, he feels himself drift off to sleep.

#Wren pt2.1 #cgrp oneshots #[except it's a twoshot technically now] #rp #sw ocs #coruscant guard #commander thire #ct-7386 #Lost and Found #swtcw #roleplay

[sugarandspace]

Flowers for you

Written for @malecdiscordserver‘s Alec Lightwood Birthday Surprise event! Summary: Alec is a Shadowhunter, he probably doesn’t care about flowers, Magnus thinks as he's nervously waiting for Alec with a bouquet of red carnations in his hands. 

Slowly, he gets to learn how wrong he was.

Or five times Magnus gave Alec flowers.

AO3

It had been a long time since Magnus had been on a date, even longer since he’d been on a date that meant so much. Despite all the easy flirting he’d showered Alec with, he actually felt really nervous. It is obvious that there is something between them, but so far the time they have been able to spend together has been very limited. 

Magnus looks at the bouquet of red carnations in his hand. Maybe the flowers are a bit too much? Alec is a Shadowhunter, he would probably appreciate a more practical gift. But bringing flowers to your date is a classic, and Magnus really wants to make a good impression.

That’s why he’s standing in front of Hunter’s Moon, dressed in one of his favorite outfits, his eyes glued to the bouquet in his hands. He’s just about to send them back to the loft when he hears footsteps coming closer and a familiar voice brings him back to the moment.

“Hey.” 

Magnus looks up and sees Alec come to a stop before him, and Magnus smiles, hoping his smile looks more confident than he feels. 

“Hey.”

Alec’s eyes fall to the flowers Magnus is holding and Magnus clears his throat, one of his hands coming up to fiddle with his ear cuff when he gives the flowers to Alec.

“These are for you.”

Alec’s shy smile turns wider, and Magnus knows he made the right call with the flowers.

“No one’s given me flowers before,” Alec says, his voice full of wonder. He touches one of the flowers gently before leaning down to breathe their scent in. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Magnus says. He makes a decision right there, that if this thing between them works and he’ll get more dates with the man in front of him, he’s going to get him more flowers if they are going to bring out such reactions.

-.-.-

 Is it a cliche? Yes. Does Magnus know it? Also yes. Has it stopped him from magicing rose petals on top of his high-quality sheets? No, it hasn’t.

The deep red of the petals contrasts beautifully against the golden sheets he’s picked for tonight, and he can’t wait to see how Alec will look like among them later.

He’ll proudly admit that he’s a romantic, and as he’s spent more and more time with Alec, he’s come to see that side of the Shadowhunter as well. And he’s hopeful his gesture will be appreciated. 

This is not the first time they’ve been intimate, the first steps into the more physical side of their relationship having been taken in the heat of a moment, with brief discussions to confirm they were on the same page.

So in that way, this is nothing new. But last night, when they were already cuddled up under the covers and drifting to sleep, Alec had brought up wanting to take it further. Magnus had wholeheartedly agreed, and they had planned for a dinner at the loft tonight. Magnus wants to make sure the night is perfect, and he’s doing some last-minute decorations as he waits for Alec to arrive. He waves his hand to summon some candles that can be lit later when he hears a knock at the door announcing Alec is here.

Magnus takes one more look around the room before he shuts the lights and leaves the room to walk to the front door.

 -.-.-

 Alec sighs as he takes another look at the clock. It’s late but the pile of reports on his desk doesn’t care about that. 

He picks up another report and starts reading it, but he’s easily distracted by the sound of a text notification. He picks his phone up from the desk and sees that it’s from Magnus.

Are we still on for tomorrow?

Alec smiles. He’s been spending more and more time at Magnus’ loft, and tonight will actually be one of the first nights in a while that he’s going to spend at the Institute, since there’s no way he’s going to be done with all the work at a decent time.

Absolutely. If these reports won’t kill me first.

Alec doesn’t even have time to put the phone away before he notices that Magnus is already typing. Realistically Alec knows that the more time he spends texting with Magnus, the later it’ll be before he’s done with the reports, but he needs this little break to be able to stay sane.

You have a lot to do still? I wish I knew a spell that would help you.

Alec feels warm at the text because he knows that Magnus’ words are genuine. 

This is already helping.

This time the answer is immediate and comes in the form of a heart emoji.

Alec puts his phone away and goes back to reading the reports, but the smile on his face doesn’t go away. A second later he sees something in the corner of his eye and looks up to see a vase of sunflowers on his desk that had not been there a second before. The action is followed by the sound of another text message.

To brighten your dull evening.

The flowers work, because every time Alec’s eyes drift to the yellow flowers on his desk, he’s unable to fight a smile.

 -.-.-

 Sleeping in is a luxury Alec is not used to having. When he lived at the Institute, he was always awake early, either to join an early patrol or to train. His job as the Head of the Institute gives him a bit more steady work hours, at least when there’s not an immediate catastrophe looming over their heads, so he’s been pretty good at avoiding the mornings when he has to wake up before dawn, especially since his husband is more than happy to portal him to the Institute every morning, claiming that he’ll gladly do it if it means more time with Alec in the mornings.

Still, nothing feels better than these slow mornings when he has nowhere to be and the whole day to spend with his husband.

The only thing that would make it better would be if Magnus were in bed with him.

Alec sits up slowly, yawning and rubbing at his eyes to get rid of the sleep still clinging to them. He can hear movement from the loft and he’s just about to get out of bed to go search for his husband when Magnus walks into the room, carrying a tray.

“No,” Magnus says quickly. “Don’t get out of bed.”

Alec slides the leg he had been putting on the floor back under the covers and watches as Magnus places the tray on his lap before sitting on his own side of the bed.

“Good morning,” Magnus says and leans in to kiss Alec’s cheek. Alec turns to face him properly and is rewarded with a kiss to his lips this time.

“You made us breakfast?” Alec asks as he looks at the tray. There’s two cups of coffee on the tray and a plate of Belgian waffles with strawberries cut on top of them. There’s definitely enough on it for the both of them, but Alec doesn’t miss the fact that there‘s only one fork. He’s pretty sure it isn’t a coincidence. 

Next to the food, there is a vase with a single light pink peony. Alec knows that the choice of flower isn’t a coincidence either, and Magnus must remember how much Alec had adored the plush flowers earlier that week when Magnus had brought him a bouquet to his office.

"This looks wonderful," Alec says. "Thank you."

 -.-.-

 Sometimes going from the busy day at the Institute to the calmness of the loft wasn’t easy. The excess energy left over from a mission or from a training session made relaxing difficult, and more often than not Alec found himself preferring the cool air at the roof, rather than pacing the loft with nothing to do. 

Sometimes he used the energy to practice archery, but sometimes he wanted a different way to calm his mind, something else that didn’t require much thinking but that would keep his body in movement.

It had started one evening when he had forgotten his bow at the Institute, but he had still made his way to the roof while he waited for Magnus to come home.

When Alec had moved in, the roof had been no different from the rest of the loft - well put together with its furniture and lights and the few plants lining the walls. The plants had been mainly green, different kinds of vines and leafy plants that didn’t really bloom. There’d been one in the corner, a vine with small red flowers, and as Alec had paced the roof he’d stopped at it to pick one of the dead flowers away. After the one he’d noticed another, and another, and another. Magnus had found him with his palm full of wilted flowers, the vine looking much healthier now that the still blooming flowers had more room. 

The next time Alec was at the roof, there’d been two more blooming flowers and a watering can that never ran out of water.

Now Alec is sitting on the floor of the roof, still in his tactical gear from earlier (thankfully without any ichor or other various demon parts this time), making sure that the beautifully blooming blue trumpet vine is well secured to the railing behind it. The air outside is getting colder, but sometime in the past weeks, Magnus had changed his wards in a way that the air at the roof stays comfortably warm even as autumn is starting to creep on them.

Alec’s not entirely sure when it happened, but he assumes it was sometime around the time when the number of flowers on the roof kept growing.

It’s more like a garden than a few separate plants now, and the mix of colors and scents rivals the garden at the Institute. It’s a place that brings Alec calmness like few others, and he can easily get lost in tending the flowers. He never saw himself enjoying something like that, and he’s far from perfect, but he’s learning as he goes. 

He’s so lost in what he’s doing that he doesn’t realize that Magnus has arrived on the roof as well. He’s only alerted of his presence when he feels a hand on his shoulder as Magnus sits down behind him, his legs framing Alec’s where he’s kneeling on the floor, his arms coming around Alec’s waist as he rests his forehead against the space between Alec’s shoulder blades.

Alec takes one of his hands away from the flower and squeezes Magnus’ forearm.

“Long day?” Alec asks, continuing to pick wilted flowers from the vine while he waits for Magnus to talk.

“The longest,” he confirms, hugging Alec a bit closer. “I’m so happy to be home.”

“I’m happy you’re home too,” Alec says. “Do you want dinner?”

“Can we eat here?” Magnus asks.

“Of course.”

Magnus moves so he’s sitting next to Alec, leaning to his side. Alec brings his arm around his husband and pulls him closer, leaving a kiss to the top of his head.

“You know,” Magnus starts, watching as Alec tends the flower. “That’s my favorite out of all the flowers you have in here.”

“Is that so?” Alec asks, genuinely curious. The flower is far from the most colorful or grandiose flowers on the balcony, its blue flowers delicate and light in color.

“Yes,” Magnus answers, his voice quiet, fitting the calmness of the situation. “If I remember right, my mother used to have that growing under our window.”

The words make Alec halt in his movements, and his arm pulls Magnus closer, kissing his head again.

“I didn’t know.”

“As I said, it’s possible that I don’t remember it right but-” Magnus says as he reaches to touch one of the flowers gently. “I think this is the same flower.”

They stay like that for a while until there are no wilted flowers in the vine anymore, and then they have dinner on the roof before they go inside to get ready for bed. Magnus’ words never leave Alec’s mind, and on the next day when things are calmer at the Institute, instead of looking through his emails, Alec uses the tablet to look up the blue trumpet vine, and the perfect care instructions for it.

Alec is determined to make it the most beautifully blooming flower on the whole roof.

#mdsevent #malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #my writing #have i ever mentioned how much i love flowers #lmao #this was a lot of fun to write! #i'm half asleep as i'm posting this so i hope there's not too many mistakes!

[writingjoycebyers]

Could you write a small drabble about jopper being protective of eachother 🥺

Joyce Byers x Jim Hopper - Friend, old friend - a song fic

(this fic is based on the prompt above (I hope this counts as protective) and the song slow mover by Angie McMahon. Comments and reblogs make my writing heart go boom boom - you know how it works. love feedback and suggestion on how to do it better. or ideas. or thoughts. or whatever <3)

Warnings: contains mature topics like a hint of cheating, alcohol consumption, very light nsfw (superficial) and angst. 18+ as always

Friend, old friend, it's 4 AM

What are we doing in the street?

They walk through the empty streets of Hawkins, a cold february night in 1969, snow falling onto them, and they don‘t even notice the small, cold drops on their heads, shoulders and hands - they‘re far too gone to notice, too drunk to freeze and too sober to dance in the snow the way they used to when they were kids in Jim‘s parents backyard. They‘d left the bar an hour ago, to roam the empty streets at night, talking and walking like old friends do.

„Yeah, he‘s with my mother tonight. Jon loves it there.“, Joyce adds as Jim asks her where she‘s left her son - a reasonable question considering Joyce seemed to have time and space to get wasted all on her own on a saturday night. „She lets him have chocolate before dinner and all.“

„And...“, Jim adds, unable to finish his questioning words when Joyce interrupts him. „I‘ve got no clue, and I kind of don‘t want to know.“, Joyce finishes his sentence, anticipating the question underlying the small word „and“ and the tone of her friend‘s voice. No clue, he might aswell be screwing some girl in her very own wedding bed. Lonnie.

„Joyce, does he even care for the kid?“, Hopper suddenly blurts out, without warning, and boy — he does sound angry. He stops, and grabs her by the shoulders. It‘s a sudden move for him, impulsive and way more serious than she had experienced him at the bar, in their heavy, drunken laughter above the tears behind her brown eyes.

„He... even asked me if I want to try for another one.“, Joyce confessed, a whisper in the cold as she tried to avoid locking eyes with Jim. She had become bad at eye contact lately. Her hand found his on her shoulder. He had not actually asked, had rather joked around that if they tried for another boy, then maybe he‘d finally have a kid that liked what he‘d call boys stuff. Joyce swallowed hard. Lonnie didn‘t want to make another baby for love. No, he was being selfish. And still that idea had sparked a tiny bit of hope inside of her, a hope that he‘d maybe change? Change for the sake of another kid? But she couldn‘t tell Hopper. So she told him some kind of half hearted truth.

„Are you hungry?“, she suddenly asked as his grip on her shoulders began to losen. She nodded into the direction of a 24 hour diner, the neon lights behind them illuminating his silhouette from behind. She loved his silhouette.

I don't want to buy fried chicken

I wish that I was going to sleep

„Nah...I just... Joyce.“, he mumbled, his articulation heavy and sloppy from the drinks he had drowned. The „Joyce“ said it all. He knew she was trying to distract him, knew she did not want to talk about Lonnie, that she did not want to stay with that man and neither would want to leave him. He‘d take her with him, he thinks, take her with him into his small apartment in NYC, around the corner of his police training station, and hold her tight every night in his way too small bed, and never let go again. He‘d done that once too often already. But then, his mind flashes to the woman he‘s dating, Diane, tall and blonde, a woman he hasn‘t thought of much during his visit home, if he was honest with himself. A small bundle of guilt starts to form in his gut, and he isn‘t sure if he‘s sick from the alcohol, or if it really is his conscience.

„Just tired.“, he mumbles then, and none of his thoughts were said.

So they start to make their way towards Jim‘s parents‘ house, the way they had done it so often as teenagers just a couple of years ago. A lifetime ago. Joyce keeps on walking next to him although she lives on the opposite side of town now, that small house on the edge of the woods. Where was home?

Quietly she follows Jim up to the corner of the street, because walking next to him feels a lot like home to her, so familar with his warmth, his unique scent, his height towering above her. He was home, after all.

They stop by the STOP-sign, a flashing one that stands across the streets of Jim‘s birth place, and as if the stop sign was meant for them, they don‘t go any further. It‘s quiet, a winter night, and Joyce feels like she can hear the snow flakes falling. Jim‘s presence feels warm, and life feels cold - and she does not know where to go. She‘s got a house to live in, but no home to go to sleep at. No peace within her own four walls.

„So, when are you heading back to the city?“, she asks shyly after some moments of silence.

„Tomorrow night.“, he replies, staring down on the floor, and then back up to the sign as a car goes by and it starts blinking.

„So.. last night here, huh?“, Joyce whispers, her face turned to the side because for some reason, for some damn reason she can‘t look him in the eye again.

The silence gets louder, the blinking feels harsher, the cold gets colder. She wraps her arms around herself as she feels the dizziness of the alcohol get washed away by the bleak midwinter air and her thoughts. The last night - their last chance?

Her thoughts drift off as she feels his gaze on her, feels him get closer and wrap his arms around her. They stand there in a deep, intimate hug and she asks herself what if - what if she was married to him, what if the house on the other side of the street was theirs, their home? What if they entered the living room, warmed themselves up with a deep, long kiss? God, she wanted to kiss him. His breath is warming the side of her face while he still hugged her, and she turns her head a bit, looking up. The last time they had been this close to kissing had been another lifetime ago. His eyes look dark and warm in contrast to the cold wind around them.

„You wanna come inside with me?“, he suddenly suggests. She answers with a small nod.

And I don't want to kiss you

Underneath that flashing sign

They enter his parents‘ place and although it is huge and empty, it is welcoming and cozy. The furniture hasn‘t changed. The atmosphere hasn‘t changed. There‘s a small light on the table by the sofa, and the room looks so large without Jim‘s family in it. She looks at him, and he looks sad. „It is okay to miss them.“, she whispers softly, her small hand on his back as they stand in the middle of the living room. The tension they had shared under the flashing light is gone for a second. They‘re old friends again. She rubs his back, and feels like she was wrong, feels as if she had interpreted it all the wrong way. Maybe he needed a friend, not a lover. Or maybe he needed time?

She can sense his tension underneath her hand, and she‘s glad she can be close to him in some way, somehow. Joyce looks around the familiar room, the old clock on the wall telling her the night might soon be coming to an end, and she gets sad herself. Their last chance - gone?

But then, suddenly, Jim wakes up from his short, griefing trance. Without a warning he pulls her close by the hand that had just comforted him, and as he leans down his lips find hers. There‘s no time to lose. They kiss and it feels both wrong and right, both hot and cold. She‘s overwhelmed by the passion behind his kiss, the force behind his touch as he scoops her up into his arms and her legs wrap around his waist like they belong there. „Jim...slow down. I want to feel this.“, she suddenly whispers. Suddenly, the night feels still young as he takes her by the hand and they walk up the stairs to his childhood bedroom

What's the hurry? We're not ready

We've got plenty of time

Some time later, minutes, hours, moments, they‘re a mess of limbs and words and kisses and Joyce could swear to God she has never felt like this before. He‘s rushed, but gentle, as if he‘s trying to make up for the lost time, and she‘s the other side of the magnet, slow and sensual and they make the perfect mixture. It takes a bit of talking, a bit of trust, and then they arrive - arrive at home.

For the rest of the night, Jim holds her tight in his way too small bed for once and he never wants to let her go again. They look into each other‘s eyes as they lay entangled, none of them daring to losen the grip, and Joyce feels tired, but she does not want to miss a second of this. Their last chance, remember?

„Get some sleep.“, he murmurs with a soft kiss onto the top of her head. „I‘m not leaving your side tonight.“, he adds as he strokes her hair, caresses it gently, stroking away the thoughts of guilt that come creeping up in Joyce‘s mind as she lays in the arms of another man, indulging in the afterglow of a forbidden rush of passion and confusion. What about him, she thinks, is there someone he should feel guilty for now?

Joyce couldn‘t know what the future would hold for him, a wife, a marriage and a daughter. She could only guess. Neither could she know what the future would hold for her, that she would indeed try for another baby with Lonnie and that, in two years or three, she‘d sometimes find herself lying awake late at night, counting the weeks between their little adventure and her blood results from the doctor‘s pregnancy test. It‘d be wishful thinking, maybe, that she wanted her second son to be more like Hopper than Lonnie. Wishful thinking, and a stupid, unprotected adventure.

Maybe you will get married

Maybe fall in love

Could you make me fall asleep

When you're holding me?

Try set me on fire

The morning after, Joyce awakes with her head on his chest and his arms neatly placed around his torso. Jim is fast asleep. Memories of the night come flashing back in front of her inner eye. She‘s Lonnie Byers wife. She is Lonnie Byers god damn wife in another man‘s bed. And she‘d always thought she was better than Lonnie.

Quietly, she leaves the bed and tiptoes to her clothes lying on the floor on the other side of the room. For the first time, she catches a glance of Jim‘s old room. Nothing has changed. She gets dressed as silently as possible, staring at a picture on the wall - him and her during Prom Night, in front of the Gym. She should have known earlier that this was more than friendship. She had known earlier, actually, and they had always danced around it, danced like it was prom night - until yesterday.

There's someone else but I twist all of

His words and he twists mine

At last, Joyce puts on her jacket, slips into her shoes and opens the old wooden door as carefully as she can. One last look towards the bed with a peacefully sleeping Jim in it, and she‘s out the door. He had promised last night he wouldn‘t leave her side, but this was a promise she herself could not make. In this moment, she felt as if they had to go backt to the separate paths they had chosen at some point, whether they were right or wrong, drunk or sober.

She waves him goodbye as the front door of Jim‘s parent‘s house closes behind her. A wave he doesn’t see.

Joyce would never return to that place again — She‘d not return home for more than 10 years after that. And when she, in 1983, finally does return home, entering the Chief of Police‘s office one morning, she‘ll be too panicked to notice that it‘s home, too broken to see that he‘s still there beneath the flashing sign. Waiting.

So I'll have to let him go

We sometimes fit, but we always lie

And he thinks we could make it work

But only when he's drunk

You think you could help me swim

But I've already sunk

_____________

Thanks for reading. Please drop me a line if you‘ve got thoughts on this. Or if you wanna chat about joyce/st/jopper. My inbox is open.<3

#jopper #joyce byers #young jopper #jim hopper #headcanon #hopper x joyce #joyce x hopper #winona ryder #jopper fic #stranger things #slowmover #joyce byers x jim hopper #hopper #joyce hopper #joyce stranger things #joyce byers headcanon #jim hopper x joyce byers #teenage jopper #adult jopper #writingjoycebyers #joyce horowitz #joyce #winona #st fanfic #fanfiction #ask #prompts #byers

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter one: cupid fucked up

part two of sudden desire

prologue / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x female original character

warnings: mentions of divorce?

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: not much to say other than i decided this isn’t going to have any smut & it’s just going to be cute af because i’m not comfortable writing it and also the whole issue with under 18s reading & engaging in 18+ content makes things worse. so just enjoy this mostly wholesome but also sad and angsty fic about everyone’s favourite FBI agent falling in love :)

At first, Loren Hull wanted to throw Coraline Meyer a divorce party. Some massive, elaborate party with all their friends. "To celebrate the fact my best friend is finally free!" She'd explained, the day the final paperwork came through. But Coraline decided against it, making some paper-thin excuse that she had some work thing that she couldn't get out of. So, instead, she finds herself alone and sprawled out under far too many blankets on her couch, eating spoonfuls of ice cream like her life depended on it, watching some shitty horror film. At first, she’d tried watching some equally-shitty rom-com but the happy moments made her cry, which she found completely pathetic and embarrassing. Instead, she's resorted to laughing at the characters in the first cliche horror she could find for being so stupid and letting themselves get killed. She'd been in a couple of cheap horrors when she'd first started acting; they were all embarrassingly bad and Coraline likes to pretend they'd never happened.

The doorbell rings halfway through some drawn-out chase scene, fake screams falling from the blonde actress' mouth as some knife-wielding maniac in a cheap mask hunts her down. Coraline begrudgingly hauls herself up from her comfy position on the sofa and shuffles towards the door, socks scuffing across the carpet. The moment the blankets fall away, she’s freezing again, though she’s vaguely aware that her apartment’s about fifty degrees too hot. Still, she wraps her cardigan tighter around herself, finding it impossible to shift the shivers.

Coraline’s greeted by the grinning face of Marcus Pike. "Hey, sunshine." He grins.

Sunshine. The nickname he'd given her the first day they'd met, when she'd shown up far too early to a briefing. Cora’s older brother, Daniel, had been opening an art gallery in downtown D.C. and was convinced scammers were already trying to sell him fake paintings for exceptionally high prices. Marcus and his team were tasked with helping out; Coraline had been roped in by her brother to help, since she’d be there for the grand opening.

She’d been wearing some bright yellow dress she'd found at the back of her wardrobe; he'd complimented her when he'd arrived a few minutes later and it had been so long since anyone had given her a genuine compliment that she'd grown flustered and almost spilt coffee down herself. They'd grown closer and closer since then and she had no hesitation in calling him one of her best friends.

Marcus holds up a paper bag. "I brought Chinese food."

"Oh, you're an angel." Cora returns Marcus' grin, opening the door wide enough for him to step inside. She takes the bag from him and cradles it close to her like it’s a newborn baby, the warmth flushing through her body.

"I try." He chuckles as she pulls him into a hug. They hold each other close for a while, lingering just a little longer than normal, her hand clutching at the back of his t-shirt a little tighter.

Coraline slumps back onto the couch when they finally let each other go. She immediately combs through the bag in search of the chow mein she knows will be in there; their weekly Chinese takeout nights have become a tradition in the few months they've known each other and he knows her order like the back of his hand.

Marcus settles into the armchair opposite, grabbing his own food. "Happy divorce day, by the way."

Coraline groans. She'd hoped he'd forgotten about that — she hadn't mentioned it to him, either. The less said about it, the better. "Oh, god, don't remind me." She flings her head back dramatically against the couch cushions. "But, hey, I'm a single woman now. You should take your shot while you still have chance. I'm in high demand." She jokes.

"Are they lining up at your door?" Marcus chuckles, leaning forward in his chair.

"You know it, I'm a catch." She mumbles through a mouthful of noodles, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Marcus smiles wistfully over at her.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you, Cora."

"Oh, please." She snorts; she can feel her cheeks flushing as pink as the blanket she sits beneath. She still finds herself taken aback whenever he compliments her, she can’t help it. There’s just something about the way he seems to mean it that makes her heart swell inside her chest. She stares down at her food and pokes at an onion with the end of her chopsticks, hoping he won’t notice the bright flush of red that has swept across her face. "I'm never falling in love again, anyway."

"Why?"

Coraline looks up at him through her lashes. He’s still staring at her as she pokes at her noodles. "Too much unnecessary heartbreak." She pokes her toe out from under her blankets, nudging the half-empty pint of ice cream she'd been eating before he arrived. It’s melting and staining a ring onto her coffee table. It makes her shiver more than she already was. "I'd rather not go through the trauma again."

"Don't be so dramatic." He sniggers, kicking her lightly in the ankle.

Coraline fakes offence. She pokes Marcus back, furrows her eyebrows and pouts. "I'm not dramatic," she mumbles, ignoring the fact half an hour earlier she'd been crying into her ice cream like some character in the movie she'd been watching. "I just don't want to get hurt again."

Coraline has always had a problem with heartbreak. It seems to follow her. It happens too quickly, too often, and each time it chips away a little more at her heart. She's started to think that it’s inevitable, now. The sum of her heartbreak just makes her fragile.

Her first heartbreak at thirteen made her feel like her world was ending. By her second, at nineteen, she realised just how trivial that had been. The third heartbreak was the worst. It came at the expense of her younger sister Eve, barely seventeen with so many hopes and dreams, snatched away by a drunk driver on one quiet Sunday morning, as the sun shone brightly and the breeze ruffled the trees. The pain hit her where she was weak and left a spider-web of cracks inside her mind. She patched herself up with fractured smiles and make-believe until a little more sunshine crept through and she was herself again. Or, at least, half of herself.

When the fourth came, at the hands of the very person who'd helped her through the darkness, the person who stood by her side as she pulled the broken pieces of her heart back together, she was almost numb. Almost. It was almost like there was nothing left to break, nothing left to feel. Except there was and the cracks inside her threatened to burst apart.

Coraline has always known that hearts are easily broken, even when she was a child. The idea had never phased her until she felt it and it hurt more and more and more, until her bones were hollow and straining to hold together the pieces of her aching heart as it tried to tumble from her chest.

The thought of getting hurt again is a little too much.

Marcus smiles. "I get that." He’s silhouetted by the warm light of a street lamp that streams in through the window behind him. It turns the ends of his hair golden and his eyes amber as he tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure something out. Amber eyes gaze over the slight furrow of her brow and the glimmer that has appeared in her green eyes. "I hate him for hurting you, for making you think that way."

Coraline shakes her head. "Don't." She smiles, a great big beaming smile, that she’s worried might come off as fake, flashing across her face. "It was inevitable." Truthfully, she was half-gone before Scott even met her, dwelling too heavily on past heartbreak. They were perfectly wrong for each other; they'd both known it for a few years before things had turned sour but, back then, pretending to live in some blurry version of perfection, both silently screaming because it wasn't right. They weren't meant to be. They didn't work anymore, and hadn't for far too long. "And it was my fault, too."

When she and Scott first met, something made them believe things would work out. Opposites attract or some made-up cliché shit like that. She'd found herself drawn so quickly towards him; he was confident and sure of himself and he gave her this smile that sent welcome shivers through her bones. They got caught up in a whirlwind, pushing and pulling them, unrelenting. Things just moved too fast and they loved far too much, then far too little.

Coraline just wants to fall in love, slowly, to feel it smouldering so deep down in her bones for months before she realises what it is, when she’s head over heels and has fallen so deeply there‘s no way out. She doesn’t want to feel forced into loving someone, to spend her days convincing herself that she does. Because there would be nothing to doubt, she'll just know with complete and utter unwavering certainty. And she just wants someone to love her back, really, truly love her back, without compromise. Someone who’ll treat her right because he wants to, not because he has to.

"Aren't you hot under all those blankets?" Marcus questions. He's been wearing a suit jacket beneath his coat — it was so cold outside that the rain turned to ice the moment it hit the sidewalk — and he huffs out an uncomfortable deep breath as he pulls it off. "It's ridiculous in here."

"I'm always hot." She jokes with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. She tucks the blankets — all four of them — up under her chin. "But I'm freezing."

Coraline has had shivers set deep in her bones for months now. She can never seem to keep warm, permanently troubled by a chill that flushes through her. It’s becoming a real problem. Mostly because her heating bill is almost double that of normal, from the sheer number of times she dials the thermostat up as high as it will go.

Marcus scrunches up his jacket and throws it at her. She bats it away before it hits her square in the face, the button narrowly missing her eye. "Hey!" She protests, poised to launch the jacket back across the room directly towards his head.

"Wear it." He insists before chuckling as her expression softens. "Another layer to keep you warm."

"Oh.” Another pause, weighing up his expression, her eyebrow half-cocked in mild scepticism. But he seems genuine. “Thank you."

...

Coraline must have fallen asleep half an hour later. She'd trailed off mid-sentence, eyes fluttering closed, breath falling steady as she relaxed against the couch cushions. She's barely slept lately — an infuriating result of worrying about her impending divorce and a hectic filming schedule that is still in full swing — and neither she, nor Marcus, is surprised that sleep has prematurely pulled her under.

When she finally reopens her eyes, the dull light of daybreak is threatening to spill through the curtains and everything is neat. Marcus is gone; the entire apartment is silent, save for the soft hum of voices from some old black-and-white rerun on the TV. She doesn’t remember falling asleep or even closing her eyes; the last thing she remembers is Marcus throwing her his jacket and them talking for a while about nothing in particular as she’d turned off the horror film that had been playing in the background the whole time. She’s still wearing that jacket, now, her fingers tangled in the sleeves that are far too long for her. The jacket still smells like him, all familiar and comforting.

Coraline pokes her head out from underneath the blankets that are covering half her face. Her head had been resting on a small couch cushion when she'd fallen asleep — she'd been far too lazy to grab any others — but now the pillows from her bed prop her head up. Marcus must have put them there before he left; sometimes she sleeps so deeply that she isn’t surprised he hadn’t accidentally woken her up.

She finally manages to peel herself from the spot on the couch she's been laid on for over twelve hours, her knees protesting with a loud crack, every blanket tumbling to the floor. Her feet brush from her rug to the cold wooden floor and she shivers again because, of course, she’s unbearably cold again. Only her hands, that are stuffed into the pockets of Marcus' jacket, are warm.

The apartment is always quiet, now. Especially since Scott had moved out. Everything just feels empty, like she’s living in the house of a ghost, passing by empty picture frames that she's been too distracted to fill. She’s sure that Marcus has cleaned before he left; the half-melted tub of ice cream and empty Chinese food cartons are gone and even the dirty dishes she'd dumped in the sink have been washed and tucked away in the cupboard.

It’s the smallest of gestures, bringing her pillows so she’s comfortable and throwing out the trash, probably small and insignificant to anyone else. But the idea of doing any of it had bled all the energy from Coraline's bones and she’s so grateful.

She’s so painfully and heartbreakingly grateful for Marcus Pike and he has no idea.

#marcus pike x female character #marcus pike x original character #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x reader #sudden desire

[mandochlorian]

white flag (kylo ren x reader)

part I part II part III

summary: sneaking out of the resistance base on Ajan Kloss isn’t the safest idea. but you have to reach out to Ben just once more, in case you never see him again.

song inspiration

general masterlist

star wars masterlist

You try to stop your hands from trembling, watching them as they rest upon the Millenium Falcons controls. The cockpit is silent, harbouring the sound of your breathing alone, you’re nervous. Stars, you’re so terrified of seeing him again. And you’re terrified of making it back to the Resistance base and forgetting all about Ben Solo, or having to forget about him.

The small planet of Pasaana comes into view and you suck in a deep breath, knowing he’s here along with your friends. They have no way of escaping, the Resistance was hesitant to send a scout in fear of losing more numbers, so you left to help your friends; at least that’s what you’ll tell Leia when she scolds you for putting yourself in danger in front of Kylo Ren.

“Alright,” you mumble to yourself nervously, “Let’s do this.” 

Bringing the ship into land in a field of sand, you eye the small village before you. It’s filled with a crowd of people. As the Falcon settles on the sand, you can hear the music blasting from just past the small sand dune. Passing the corridor, you head to the boarding ramp, your lightsaber by your side. But as soon as the boarding ramp is halfway down, there are blasters being fired at you. Hitting the button to your side, the doors halt halfway, prompting a stormtrooper to poke his head through the gap. You use this as an opportunity to knock him back with the end of you saber before the ramp continues to open. 

The trooper lays on the floor, holding his head. Stretching a hand out to him, you send him into a deep sleep and head towards the sand dune. Standing on top of it, you look out to see absolute heaven. You can’t stop the smile that reaches your face, the people dancing, singing, families crowded around one another, eating, laughing... happy. 

This planet is at peace, even with a war raging on. Just as quickly as the feeling of joy had appeared, something tugs at your chest. You know the force enough to know what this feeling is. Walking from the village, you make your way to the middle of the desert. And you wait. You sit, cross-legged, waiting, eye closed as you reach out. 

A frown makes it’s way to your face as you try not to let the tears fall. “Ben,” you whisper, feeling Kylo approach you. You open your eyes gently to the sound of a ship ripping through the air. It’s him. He lands. You stand up to meet him, seeing him exit the tie fighter. 

Clenching your teeth together, you watch him as he marches towards you. His lightsaber ignites, crackling and hissing at his side as he stops in front of you. “Get out of my way.” His deep voice rings out, barely sounding like himself through the mask.

Your weapon stays on your hilt, comfortably, “Take that helmet off.” 

“I won’t take this helmet off ever again.”

His posture is stiff, as though he’s trying to hold the tremble of rage flowing through him. You’re patient and considerate, and you don’t raise your voice at the man before you. “Then consider this the last time anyone will see your face. Your true face.” 

Without a single word, Kylo takes it off. He holds it by his side, looking to you expectantly. He speaks. “Well? Have you decided whether you’re going to live or die yet?”

That comment makes you laugh a little and you look to the sky, “You have to decide that yourself. I just want to talk to you.”

“I don’t have time to talk to Rebel scum like you-”

“Then just listen,” you tell him, looking into his eyes solemnly. “How can you choose to be evil when you feel the light? When you know what’s right and what’s wrong?”

“Anger.” He whispers back quietly. His voice is low and deep, holding a lifetime of vengeance. Kylo glances up at his father's ship, “Anger makes it difficult to see what’s in front of me.” 

“I’m in front of you.” You tell him, “For the last time ever.”

Kylo’s face then changes. He turns his lightsaber off, puts it back on its hilt. “Y/N,” His voice lowers, seeing the look in your eyes. His own eyes narrow at you, squinting slightly. He can’t sense your intentions, “Why are you here?” 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t get emotional. But there’s no way you can’t. Without a word, you hold your hand out for him to take. Kylo stares at you blankly, not even giving your hand a single glance. You don’t want him to see you cry. Not now. Not when you have to be stronger than you’ve ever been. Frowning, you rip your hand away from him and turn around to wipe a tear from under your eye. 

You pause before you admit to him, “I love you.”

Kylo pauses, his eyes wide in disbelief mixed with shock, “Still?” He whispers to you, unable to stop the memories of you two. Memories from your childhood, from training, from time spent together on the Resistance Base, “You shouldn’t.”

“I know,” you cry out, looking down at your feet, “And I shouldn’t be telling you... But even if I didn’t tell you, I’d still feel it.”

Kylo sneers at you, trying to ignore the pain he feels at your sorrow, “Why are you making this so hard for me?” 

You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “I’m not trying to. Really, I’m not.” You admit to him, placing a hand to your heart as you sniff, “This is hard for me too, understand that...” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you examine his features. 

Kylo notices how you admire him and he looks down, sucking the inside of his cheeks gently. Part of him feels this internal struggle to push you away, to force all good things from his life. “Hard for you?” He speaks up, taking the same route he’s been trying for years, “You chose this for yourself! Why did you have to be part of the Resistance? You could’ve lived a quiet life, settled down... you could've had no part in this story. Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

“Maybe,” you blink, knowing it would’ve been a pointless life, “But I didn’t give up on you back then. That’s the choice I made.” 

“You’re a fool.”

Your eyes flutter with tears, “Baby-”

“No! You are!” He exclaims, his chest heaving, “You think there‘s hope for me still? You made your decision, let me make mine.”

You shake your head at him, wanting nothing more than you hold him and take him home, “I know this isn’t you, you don’t have to do this. Ben... Ben, you’re breaking my heart.”

“Then let it break!” He shrugs, his eyes wide and wild with anger and confusion, “Let it turn hateful towards me! That’s what everyone else has done. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“None of this is easy!” You finally shout back at him, pointing to him then to yourself, “You, me, nothing has ever come easy for us! But you started a war, you went down a path that wasn’t made for you, Ben. And I’m afraid that-”

“What?” He mutters, taking a step closer to you, “What are you afraid of?” Kylo asks, half expecting you to say his name.

“If you don’t turn back now...” You mumble, feeling the tears build up in your eyes, “It can only end with one of us dead.”

Kylo tilts his head slightly, his own eyes staring into yours; red, examining, unthreatened. “Have you come to kill me, Y/N? Or to save my soul?”

You ignore his question, settling to answer it with a decision you’ve made, “This is the last time we meet on these terms.” You tell him, watching his expression change.

Kylo bites the inside of his cheek, knowing exactly what you mean. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to meet one another, share secret and guilty moments together. If this were more private, and the two of you were on an uninhabited planet, you’re sure his arms would be around you. No one knew about it, of course. Not even Snoke, not even General Leia, not even Rey or Poe. It was your secret to keep. every once in a while, you would talk to one another, you would ignore the fact that your heart would be breaking at his dark clothes and his plagued mind. 

Kylo gulps. Kylo pretends that doesn’t affect him. But Kylo also knows that you are the only one who gives him the strength to go on. You locked yourself in your room for two days, bridging yourselves through the force just so you could help him overcome his grief for his father. “So you are giving up on me, then?” He spits, walking past you, almost circling you as he looks up at the Falcon.

“No,” you shake your head, following his movements, “Never.”

“But you won’t see me anymore?” He states matter of factly, snapping around to look at you. His eyes convey something different... fear? “You’ll block me out, even with the force.”

“Yes.” You suck in a deep breath, taking a step closer to Ben. You don’t care if there are people looking for the two of you on this planet. You place a hand on his cheek. Kylo holds himself back, but can’t help but lean against your gentle touch. “I won’t ever stop loving you and I will never lose the hope that you can return home,” You whisper to him, gently dragging your thumb across his cheek. His eyes shut sweetly, and for a moment he looks like he’s in peace, “But this war needs to come to an end.” He opens his eyes, gazing at you as you speak, “The Resistance are fighters. I’m one of them. And I’ll die before I ever give up on ending this war. Don’t expect me to put my hands up and surrender to you, Ben, because it’s not going to happen. We need to accept that we’re on opposites sides of this war, and I will go down with this ship.”

“Will I really never see you again?”

“No,” you tell him, your hand coming to rest on his chest, “Not like this, at least. When we meet, which I’m sure we will, I’ll still love you. And it will still kill me. There isn’t any way I’d ever stop loving you, Ben, even now after all you’ve done, I... I can’t stop needing you. Wanting you.” Feeling more tears surface, you step away from him. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sniffing quietly, “And that’s why I’m doing this. If you won’t join me... then I can’t keep letting people die at your hand while I secretly meet you in the night.” 

“If I knew this was the last time, I...” He cuts himself off, standing up straighter as though he isn’t tearing up at the loss of the only person who loves him. Kylo sniffs, wiping his eyes and moving away from you, “I love you.” He says casually, frowning as he begins to walk away from you. Kylo turns his head slightly, pain running through his chest as he heads towards his tie fighter, “I’ll see you on the battlefield.” 

Suddenly, his hand is out, facing the sand dune. A laser remains mid-air, once fired from Finn's blaster. Your eyes are wide. You watch Rey, Poe, and Finn rush towards the Falcon, chased by stormtroopers. Walking past the beam, Kylo puts his hand down and allows the laser to hit the sand and dissipate.

“Once we get the hell out of here, you need to tell us what the hell is going on,” Poe announces, shooting down some troopers as he rushes past you to get into the Falcon. Seeing Rey and Finn fighting the troopers off, you use the force to knock your enemies on their feet, allowing them to run onboard. They’re confused, you can tell, they’re wondering why Kylo Ren didn’t put up more of a fight. Why did he let them escape with their lives? It’s unlike him to be passive.

Hearing the ship roar to life, you tear your eyes away from Kylo. You make your way on board, heading straight to the cockpit and into the pilot's seat. Punching in co-ordinates for anywhere other than here, you take a breath before the ship takes off, speeding into the air unfollowed. 

Goodbye, Ben.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #ben solo x reader #ben solo

[bts-fantasy]

part eight

Genre: Thriller AU

Characters: Yoongi, Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: mention of domestic violence

Previous — Next

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

„Miss, there‘s no one around your house. We‘ve checked everything, you don‘t need to worry anymore.“

The police officer looked down at you with a reassuring smile before he scanned his surroundings one last time and walked out of your house again with his colleagues. You and your mom just stood at the doorstep with a concerned look as you watched the officers climb back into their car and drive off into the night.

„Are you okay? Did you get hurt?“

Your mom‘s voice was shaking as she stared at you with her hands reaching out to touch you hesitantly as if you were made of glass. When you called the police she obviously woke up by all the turbulences. You‘d only told her briefly that someone had broken into your house and the officers didn‘t mention the stalker either.

You smiled at your mom giving her a hug as you felt her body shiver in your embrace. You frowned guiding her to the couch to sit down with her before you took her hands into yours to make her lift her head up to look at you.

„Mom, it‘s not him.“

You watched her eyes fill with tears at the mention of your father and she closed her eyes tightly causing the tears to fall down in her lap. She kept nodding her head telling you that she knew it couldn‘t be him. He couldn‘t hurt you or your mom anymore. Not since you‘d moved to this town to start over again. Calling the police was never an option after he‘d locked your mother in for two days straight without giving her any food and threatening to kill her if you ever said a word to anybody.

One day, you and your mom finally managed to escape the hell hole you were in. You packed your stuff and ran away reporting your dad to the police later on.

Thinking back to that terrible time of your life you felt an ice-cold shiver run down your spine and you tried to hold back your own tears. You hated seeing your mom cry because you knew she‘d been stuck with him for much longer than you had been.

„He won‘t be coming out of jail any time soon.“

Your mom nodded again as she slowly calmed down again while taking deep breaths. At times like this, you could see more than clearly just how fragile she actually was and it broke your heart every single time.

You both stayed in silence for a while and you had your arms tightly wrapped around her shoulder whispering calming words to her until she fell asleep again.

The next day Hoseok was sitting in front of you patiently listening to you as you explained everything that had happened the day before. His frown deepened with every passing second and when you finished talking he let out a deep sigh shaking his head.

„I can‘t believe this is happening to you Y/N.“

When you sent him a text yesterday he‘d insisted on seeing you after school so you were sitting in your favorite café while your friend had a frustrated look on his face.

He placed his hand on top of yours as you took another sip of your steaming coffee. You didn‘t sleep a bit last night too afraid that someone might break into your house again.

„I don‘t know what to do, Hoseok. Why is this happening to me? What did I do?“

Your voice was merely a whisper and Hoseok‘s face softened as he gently drew circles on the back of your hand with his thumbs.

„It‘s going to be alright. You‘ll see.“

As much as you wanted to believe his words, you couldn‘t. There was a feeling that the stalker won‘t stop anytime soon. You couldn‘t even stay in your own home without having to fear for your life.

„I have an idea!“, Hoseok suddenly exclaimed tightening his grip around your hands to pull you closer.

„Why don‘t you come to stay at my place for the weekend? My sister would love to meet you.“

Hoseok looked at you with a bright smile on his lips that you couldn‘t say no to him. So you shrugged thinking that you could need some company right now. But suddenly you thought of your mom being all alone in your house and frowned.

„But what about my mom...“, you started and just then your phone started ringing in your pocket. You picked it up and heard your mom telling you not to wait for her. She would be home tomorrow evening due to a meeting with a client.

Great. You would be home alone until your mother returned so you might as well go over to Hoseok‘s place, you thought.

You entered his little apartment an hour later looking around the bright and colorful interior design with a faint smile on your lips. It perfectly represented his funky personality.

Walking into his living room you saw a girl around your age sitting on the couch watching TV with a blank expression on her face.

Hoseok cleared his throat to get her attention and she immediately turned her head towards you her eyes growing wide as she jumped off the couch to greet you.

„Hi! You must be Y/N! Oh my god, Hoseok had told me so much about you.“

She exclaimed hugging you tightly as you just stood there frozen with an awkward smile on your face. You didn‘t expect this reaction at all.

Hoseok next to you had turned silent staring down at his shoes in an embarrassed manner before he mumbled.

„Y/N, this is my older sister, Ji Woo.“

His sister was just as energetic as her little brother and you all talked for the whole night watching movies and de having a great time.

The next day you woke up to the sound of your notification bell ringing. You grabbed your phone with your eyes still half-closed but sat straight up when you read the message.

A few hours later you were ready to go out with Yoongi to eat lunch waiting for his call. When you heard the doorbell ring you jumped off the couch to open the door but Ji Woo was faster than you. You were close enough to hear Yoongi‘s voice from outside as Ji Woo just stood there frozen.

„Ji Woo? What are you doing here?“

Ji Woo only stammered incomprehensible words as she looked behind her and when she caught you standing there she just silently backed away so you could get to him. Yoongi‘s brows were furrowed in confusion staring at Ji Woo but his face softened immediately when he spotted you. Forgetting about the encounter he quickly stepped forward to give you a quick kiss on your cheek that made your heart flutter.

„Ready to go, miss Y/N?“

Yoongi drove you to a nice local restaurant that served Chinese food which he knew was your favorite. The day seemed so perfect with you two spending time together again but even though you enjoyed his presence you could feel that something was by the way he was listlessly picking at his food avoiding your eyes. You reached out to gently touch his hand and he looked up at you innocently with his big eyes but you knew that his mind was occupied with something.

„What‘s wrong?“, you asked softly to which he only responded with a confused expression. Then a warm smile appeared on his face causing your heart to pick up its pace. You really were a sucker for his smile.

„It‘s nothing. Don‘t worry about it.“ He shrugged it off continuing to eat his meal while you had long finished yours already.

„But I worry about you, Yoongi.“

Yoongi‘s head shot back up his eyes curiously searching yours as if he was trying to understand the meaning behind your words. The look in your eyes said more than a thousand words and he let his shoulders sink in defeat. He put his cutlery down as he kept his gaze fixed on you contemplating whether or not he should tell you.

„I know it‘s probably none of my business but-“

He paused taking a deep shaky breath and you could tell just how nervous he was as he continued.

„Are you and Hosoek dating?“

You burst out laughing at his words but stopped immediately when you saw how serious his face was.

„Hoseok and I are like best friends. There‘s nothing going on between me and him.“

Yoongi finally seemed to relax and he let himself fall back into his chair as he smiled at you in relief.

„That‘s what‘s been bothering you this whole time?“ You asked surprised as he nodded shyly. His answer made you feel warm inside for some reason but also curious.

What exactly was your relationship with Yoongi?

You asked yourself suddenly thinking back to the kiss you‘d both shared on the rooftop two days ago.

As if he‘d read your mind he leaned in to stare directly into your eyes immediately catching your attention.

„It‘s just the thought of you being with someone else that‘s driving me crazy, Y/N.“ He murmured the words lowly creating chills all over your body as you felt your mouth run dry. His eyes were as dark as the night sky and without even blinking he kept staring at you. You wondered if he knew what he was doing to your poor heart and how much power he had over it.

„What?“

You couldn‘t think of anything else at that moment as you felt yourself slowly losing touch of the ground beneath your feet floating away towards the clouds.

„Y/N, I‘m asking you to be my girlfriend.“

***

Later that night you were driving back to Yoongi‘s house with your fingers intertwined as he kept looking over at you as if he wanted to make sure that this was actually happening. That you were, in fact, sitting in the passenger seat next to him as his girlfriend. Because that‘s exactly what you‘d been doing during the whole ride home. You couldn‘t wrap your head around the events of that day as you felt your heart overflow with happiness. It was an indescribable feeling.

A/N: Soo I know I‘m late but I‘m writing this with my eyes half-closed.😴 I‘m sorry it took me so long to update😫

How cute is Yoongi?🥰

I hope you guys are still reading and making your guesses. Feel free to message me whenever/wherever!😄

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #namjoon #yoongi #seokjin #hoseok #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #bts angst #bts thriller #bts fanfiction #bangtan imagines #bangtan x you #bts x you #yoongi x you #hoseok x you #jung hoseok imagine #min yoongi #min yoongi imagines #yoongi boyfriend #bts army #bts boyfriend

[englass]

Oh, could I request John letting the deputy hold him because he understands she's going though a lot atm. :^) thanks for reading.

No worries hun! Thanks for sending this in! 😁 It took a while, but I had fun with it nonetheless. Kind of ended up running away with the idea, but I hope you enjoy it!

– – –

When Rook had gotten in that plane, as prepared as she could be with a freshly tattooed chest and a determined glare for the dogfight that was about to go down, she hadn’t exactly considered what could happen.

Sure, she hoped that she’d win. That she would finally free the Valley from the tyranny of John Seed by the end of it all, knocking him off of his high horse, and hopefully without that much bloodshed if at all possible.

But what she hadn’t considered was if things went wrong.

With a strangled gasp Rook hobbles toward the panting John Seed, his tailored clothes scuffed and dirtied, as he rests against the trunk of a tree. Eyes closed and head tipped back with both hands in his lap, radio tossed and abandoned at his side. Despite his ruffled appearance anyone would think that he just did a lap around his airstrip instead of get in a literal, and verbal, dogfight with somebody. He near enough looks unharmed.

Lucky prick.

Rook stares at her nemesis, usually groomed hair now tussled, before leaning heavily against the same tree that he’s up against. Sliding down until she’s sitting next to him and mirroring his actions; head tilted skyward with eyes closed, pained groans slipping through stilted breaths every now and again.

Despite sitting next to the infamous ‘reaper’ of the Valley, Rook can’t help but feel nothing but calm, strangely content as the warm afternoon sunlight flitters through the gaps in the leaves above, shinning down on the both of them with speckled light. Considering how cold it’s gotten the warmth is a welcome blanket for the shaky Deputy.

“Ya know,” she starts with a wince, holding her side, “despite it all, that was actually kinda fun.” There’s a fractured laugh underling her tone, mirth trying to break through even as she sucks in a stuttered breath between gritted teeth.

John scoffs, not even sparing her a glance, “I think you need to rework your definition of ‘fun’, my dear Wrath.”

“Says you,” she says accusingly, “I hardly think you’re one to talk, what with the type of stuff that you do to people.”

“What I do, Deputy, is not for my own pleasure, but for the salvation of sinners like yourself,” he replies with a snip. “I have told you this numerous times and yet, even in the wake of your atonement, you would rather still be barred from the Gates of Eden and condemned to an eternal damnation than swallow that filthy pride of yours. I only want to help you, Deputy, to give you a new and better life amongst the project; if only you would just say yes.”

“Oh leave off, John,” Rook whines, “I’d rather not talk about atonement and crap while I lay here dying.”

“Oh please,” John grouses, finally looking toward her, “like you’re actually–” he pauses, words dissolving on his tongue like powered tablet. His ocean eyes going wide as they glue themselves to the jagged piece of metal sticking out of her side; crimson painting her shirt, staining the hand that presses under the metal with a noticeable tremble, a vivid red.

“Huh, that bad eh?” Rook weakly jokes, watching the emotions dance hectically across his face, changing as quickly as the current, before looking skyward once again, pointedly refusing to look down at herself. She winces at a jolt of pain. “That’s reassuring.”

“Deputy...” the youngest Seed flounders, unable to look away from the sight she makes; caught in a trance as any harboured animosity fades to ash. There’s no way the Deputy – his deputy – could be dying, there‘s just no way. A piece of metal couldn’t stop them, surly. They’ve been through worse than this, he knows they have. He can’t lose them now that he’s finally got them, that wouldn’t be fair. That’s not fair...

John’s quick to snap back to reality when he hears the Deputy gasp, her free hand pressing into the ground beside him as she attempts to move herself.

John doesn’t spare a thought before he’s grabbing her.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hisses in a rush, “stop moving, you will only make it worse!”

“A little late for that, I‘d say,” she grumbles lowly. “Now let go, I’m hardly going anywhere.”

Really such a fact should’ve had John vibrating, excitement twisted into something cruel and consuming, but he finds himself feeling the furthest from that than what he ever thought he might do. Seeing the Deputy like this was making him feel rather ill, a nasty sensation curling low within the pit of his stomach.

Also, were they always that pale?

So focused on his own conflicted thoughts and absent observations, John doesn’t notice when the Deputy edges a little closer to him; shimmying into his side.

With a whimper Rook moves her free arm, slipping it behind and around John’s back to grip and hold as much of his jacket as she can. Her head falling heavily to rest on his shoulder with a pained sigh.

John freezes at the touch, the familiarness of it making him feel a touch uneasy; a tad nervous. He doesn’t remember the last time someone had held him in such a way, if ever at all even. It’s completely foreign to him. And he especially never expected this type of gesture from the elusive deputy of all people, despite how much he might of dreamed and secretly hoped for it on lonely nights with only his hand for company.

But, even more so, he never envisioned a situation like this – so potentially dire – to be the one where his dreams finally became a reality. Or at least as close as he was possibly going to get them to reality anyway.

What a living nightmare this day was turning out to be.

“What are you doing?” The question is a lot quieter this time around; softer than he intends it. A breath of a secret shared between friends, or unrequited lovers.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dying, John,” Rook tells him bluntly, gaze distant and watery as her grip grows tighter, “and believe it or not, I’m actually really fucking scared right now, so if you could just shut up and let me find at least a little bit of comfort in you before I die then that’d be great.”

There’s a weighted pause filled only with the shimmering of leaves and unsteady breaths.

“Comfort, from me?” The baptist jokes derisively, “you really must be scared then...”

Yet, despite his tone, Rook can still hear the unintentional lilt of hope that’s layered within the question. The hope that maybe she, or anyone really, could want something so simple yet meaningful from him; something so soft and genuine.

And, not for the first time, Rook can’t help but feel sorry for the complicated man next to her. Memories of her makeshift baptism, the look on his face as Joseph walked away from him, fluttering to the forefront of her mind. If only life had given him a better hand.

“Yes, John. Even from you.”

There’s a broken sound that comes from him, a whine or a laugh she isn’t sure. Yet, the sound quickly slips from her mind when she feels his own arm come around to grip her shoulder, hesitant at first before hugging her closer, his head gently leaning to rest on top of hers.

The hand gripping his jacket is covered by his own, pulling her away – she whimpers pitifully at the movement, weakly holding on, “shh, it’s okay, Deputy. I’ve got you” – only to draw her hand up to his face. Fingers interlaced he kisses the palm of her hand before placing it over his chest, holding it there as his thumb brushes back and forth in a soothing motion; a silent reassurance.

If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be hugging John Seed after being impaled by a piece of plane shrapnel, she likely would have scoffed and sarcastically entertained them. If not straight up laughed at them. Funny, she supposes, how life’s turned out for her.

“You’re not going to die, by the way,” John suddenly says, breaking the hush that had fallen between them, “I won’t let you.”

Once upon a time, Rook might have rolled her eyes at how childish he sounds, a little kid getting ready to throw a strop. However, the Deputy has had enough interactions with John Seed by this point to be able to gleam when he’s being serious.

It’s a little scary in its own right, hearing that cold shift that sends chills down her spine, but ultimately she decides to ignore his self-made promise. There’s nothing she can say to it.

“I hope I don’t,” Rook says honestly, “there’s still stuff I wanted to do.”

“Like what?” He asks conversationally.

The Deputy huffs around a laugh, weak and slightly derogatory, “it’s stupid really, but would you believe me if I said that I wanted to get married?”

“Married?” John’s chest does something funny at the thought. “You? Forgive me, deputy, but you hardly seem the type.”

“Wow, really? No offence John-no, but you do realise that I’m more than just a Deputy wrecking your shit, right? I have dreams and hopes for the future too, ya know? And besides, what do you know; you don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

“But enough isn’t a full picture, is it?” For a moment the Deputy goes quiet, and John can practically taste the bubbling bitterness in her next words. “How old am I, what’s my favourite colour, my favourite film; what was my first car, my first pet. Hell, does anyone even know my name...?”

It’s embarrassing really, allowing something so small and arguably petty to colour her the way it does, but if she really is about to die then surly now is as good a time as any to get her grudges and grievances out there. Confess, as John would put it it. After all, she’s done so much for everyone, got so much blood staining her hands (both figuratively and literally), and yet not one person has even asked for her name.

She’s a title, she knows that, has since this whole thing started, but bleeding out has a way of forcing things into perspective it seems. She’s going to die in the arms of her greatest enemy and no one is even going to be able to mark the grave because no one even knows her fucking–

She stills; tenses. Breath catching as she does so, but she pays the pain it causes no mind. Focusing only on the ring of John’s voice, his tongue curling around a name she didn’t think she’d ever hear again from another; didn’t think he even knew. Just how did he...?

“... what?” She sounds so small, so much like she did as a child, but she doesn’t care. Did he really just...

He pulls her closer, turns slightly to whisper her full name into her hair, lips brushing against her lightly as he does so. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

Rook sniffles, her breaths quickly becoming shallow and shaky as she presses further into John, burying her face as far into his neck as she possibly can. Hiding herself as tears begin to trail down her cheeks in lonely streams. Her retort is weak and warbled.

“Shut up.”

And, surprisingly, John does.

Although it might not be ideal, not at all how he hoped for them to come together, but for the first time since he can remember John feels what he believes to be genuine content. More than happy to offer his deputy all that he can give them in this uncertain, but surly fated, moment. This had to be destiny at play, he was certain of it. This was meant to happen.

And as he listens to her cry quietly, feels her sag and flinch in pain and anguish against him, waiting for his followers to hurry up and find them, not once does his hand let go of hers.

#i hope it’s okay? #i wanted something kinda sad but comforting #also #i hate dialogue #but i’m trying to get better at it #doubt i’m succeeding mind you #but i’m trying #my gorgeous murder husband #john seed #john seed x female deputy #john seed x deputy #john seed x rook #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #anonymous #request

[sandylavs]

-

It’s late at night as my kids have been put to bed here am I pinning my thoughts. What kind of thoughts? Even I’m not sure my mind is all messed up. I have always been putting on a front when deep down I’m wrapping my head around something. And I don’t have the time nor energy to deal with it. Because most of the times I have bigger fish to fry like my kids I don’t have enough to deal with other problems.

Anyways, I did tried but it’s not resulting.

So to sums up it’s actually about my marriage it has been a roller coaster ride I meant it like literally when you sit on a roller coaster you literally go up and down right? Yeah... My husband puts my feelings ups and downs so easily he can constantly take me up to cloud nine then drop me down to the pits of hell in split seconds. I did tried to voice out my feelings to him but I’m always getting the cold shoulder in return.

We are drifting apart our clock don’t tick the same anymore we are literally in like a different timezones when I wake up he goes to sleep. We don’t even try to communicate anymore and why? Let me get the cat out of the bag... My husband diverted himself momentarily to another female and that hit me hard. I took it with a grain of salt and forgave him but after that our marriage has started walking on thin ice. I have became more toxic, I turned paranoid, having more trust issues towards him, I fall into depression there‘s so many times I have thoughts of hanging myself or slitting my veins out I even googled on how to make poison and so. But I just can’t bare myself to do it. My kids they saved my life whenever I have suicidal thoughts my kids appeared up on my mind and washed the bad thoughts away.

Up till now I’m still trying my best to make this marriage works, he grumbled upon me not doing housework properly then when I did, he don’t take initiative to appreciate it for him it’s my job and my responsibilities to do it even like to look after the children it’s my job and my duties to his understanding it is not a thank-worthy issues and that don’t even bother me what bothers me is he complimented the third party who does housework when it’s not even for him but he don’t say anything when I did it for him & for the family that bothers me. Like how he admitted that another woman can make him smile but not me his own wife. That bothers me to the core. I’m not going to state more on that because he told me it’s done and it’s over between him and that third party plus I have already put that in the past even tho I thought of him and the third party many times like a broken record. Secretly I kept those hideous thoughts to myself.

Okay back to the topic on lack of communication in my marriage I told my husband about this but he steadfastly ignore the elephant in the room putting everything on rain check sweeping the problem under the carpet always making me go to bed depressed without trying to analyze our situation it’s really tiring when it’s just one person holding up the team.

They say “old habit die hard “ right? Or on another term “a leopard will never change it spots” those phases fits perfectly on my husband his addiction to game is really burning bridges and he can never change out of it.

Yeah I agree from the beginning of our love we started off wrongly we loved each other out of pity he put pitied on me as I was a single mom and I put pitied on him as he wasn’t in a proper mental state. I guess I can safely say that I was the girl who turned his life around he was broken and I fix that but right after marrying me and having a family he turn back to the his old self. I think some part of him isn’t ready to carry that burden of a husband and a father? But I can say he is trying hard as a father but as a husband that’s a nah. What kind of husband don’t put affection to his wife? What kind of husband despise communication with his wife? What kind of husband don’t spend his time on his wife? And rather play games. Yeah, they say ignorance is a bliss but is it though? Many around me told me to suck it up for the kids but why must I feel unhappy for my kids? My kids won’t be happy seeing their mom unhappy. And I don’t want to leave him either because I love him. So if anyone were to ask me what is it that I really want?

I want a smooth sailing relationship with him. I want communication, I want assurance as I became toxic and start overthinking I want him to assure me that love me and my put my thoughts at the right place, I want his time, his attention, show me some effort to appreciate me and do it consistently don’t just do it today to make me feel better and go back to making me feel like crap the next day that’s just fucked up. I don’t need any of his narcissistic traits in our life I want them out!

So at the end of this post I just want to pray, pray over my marriage asking to infuse my husband and I with passion for life, passion for love and intimacy, to be closer. May hope rise in our hearts and may our love burn for each other like never before. Lord please revive us and revive our marriage. I apologize if I am at wrong & if my thoughts went to the wrong places I pray for guidance god please guide me to happiness. Amen. 🙏

[timoothy]

I love your writing it’s amazing! Could you maybe do a fic where Paul is tired of hearing Ted moan about Henry and Emma is tired of hearing Henry rant about Ted, so they set them up?

Thank you and I love this omg! Alright, I tried my best, even though I‘m not sure if this is exactly what you imagined. The idea was so good and this turned out so damn bad, I’m sorry

(this is set during the apocalypse. Henry, Ted, Emma and Paul just kind of live in the fortress, I didn’t spend that much time on the setting)

———————————————————

“And like.. I’m not into him?! ..Nah, I’m not into him. I just think he’s kind of handsome, you know?”, Ted says. Paul nods. He already zoned out by now. They‘ve been in the living room for what feels like hours and Ted won‘t stop talking about Henry (who he‘s definitely not into).

”He’s so handsome, Paul. And he could, like.. get it, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait you think that too?”

“What? No.”

“Thank god.. I mean not that I would have a chance anyway, but still.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t think I have a chance?”

“Jesus Ted! Just tell him maybe?”

“Woah! No need to fucking snap at me.”

“Sorry. It’s just.. you keep talking about him, but you never actually act on it.”

“Because I can’t just tell him? What the fuck is wrong with you Paul?”

“You’re just gonna keep talking about him?”

“Yes? I listened to your pathetic whining about Emma too, so cope the fuck with it.”

„Man, he might like you too.”

For the first time in like an hour, Ted is quiet.

“You think so?”, he mumbles, after about a minute.

“Ted, seriously?”

“I was just asking!”

“I don’t know. Maybe? You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

“Oh.”

“Ted please just tell him.”

“Hell no.”

“Ted.”

“I can’t.”

“Then stop whining about it.”

“Well sorry that I’m sharing my thoughts with you.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“It’s just.. Henry’s so smart. He’s too smart for me, isn’t he?”

“Probably.”

“Yeah, you’re right, he is. God, I just really wish I was that smart.”

Paul groans and buries his face in his hands. This will keep going for a while. But they’re still locked in Henrys house and the aliens are outside. He can’t just leave. They‘ve been living in there for a little over a month now. Long enough for Henry to be okay with all of them using his first name. And Paul‘s gonna loose his sanity if he has to spend another month with Ted ranting about how handsome and smart and perfect Henry is.

—

Emma yawns. Henry and her have been in the lab for a few hours now. He wanted her help. But she doesn‘t actually have that much to do and he just keeps coming back to ranting about Ted for some reason. It’s like they talk about something else for a few minutes and then he starts talking about Ted again. This has been going on for the last two to three weeks.

“I feel like Ted is just always so mysterious. I can‘t characterize him by any means.“

Emma nods.

“Yeah, no. I just think he’s always so unnecessarily mean“, she wearily replies.

“Mean? No.”

“Professor, did you just bring me here to talk about Ted again?”

“Of course not!”

“You know he’s into you, right?”

Henry blushes now and quickly turns away, so Emma doesn’t see.

“What? No, of course he’s not. That is ridiculous Emma.”

“It’s true!”

“He’s so young.”

“I think he’s actually a little older than Paul. Like 40 or something.”

“And you say he’s unnecessarily mean?”

”Probably not to you. Because he’s into you. He just stops making noises and stares instead, when you enter the room.”

“I don’t believe you’re right.”

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Well, like I said before, I think he’s mysterious.”

“You also think that’s hot?”

“Emma! I did not say that.”

Emma chuckles now. “Of course not.”

—

They’re all watching the news. It kind of became habitual, something they‘re doing every evening. Of course they all hope that it will be good news this time. But most times there‘s nothing about Hatchetfield at all and if there is, it‘s just bad news. Not unlike today. Apparently even more soldiers who were sent there never returned.

Ted is sitting right next to Henry and genuinely tries not to freak out over their shoulders almost touching.

He doesn‘t even concentrate on the news anymore. Only on Henry. Henry Henry Henry. Jesus fucking Christ.

He tries his best not to stare, but he can‘t help but notice how Henrys hands started shaking.

“Are you alright?”, he brings himself to ask.

Henry looks up, meeting Teds gaze. He looks genuinely surprised.

“Yes!.. yes, of course.”

“Okay.”

Henry interlaces his fingers, perhaps to stop his hands from shaking. He‘s clasping them so strong, that his knuckles go white.

Ted hesitates, before he reaches out and puts his hand over Henrys. Henry loosens his grip, so Ted can actually take his hand. Henry then stares at their hands for a while, before he looks up.

They’re so focused on each other now, that they don’t even notice how Paul and Emma sneak out and close the door.

“It’s alright. We will get out of here someday. We kinda have to. At the latest when they‘ll carry our dead bodies out of here”, Ted says now, mildly joking around as he tries to lighten the mood.

“I feel like we’ll be stuck in Hatchetfield for quite some time”, Henry says.

“You don’t think anyone will come and save us?”

“I doubt it.”

“Oh.”

“Ted?”

“Yeah?” Ted gets nervous now, while Henry eyes him uncertainly.

“Never mind”, he just says and pulls his hands out of Teds grip. Henry seems to be getting up and Ted quickly holds him back, pushing his hand against Henrys chest.

They’re both surprised by that.

“Sorry”, Ted quickly mumbles, before he pulls his hand back.

“What is it?”

“Just.. do you think we’ll die in here?”

Henry smiles, seemingly deep in thought now. “I don’t know Ted.”

“You didn’t theorize that part?”

“I‘m afraid I know less than you think I know.”

“Oh.”

Henry looks up to him again. They stare at each other until Ted leans closer, making Henry forget to breath for a second.

“If we’re gonna die in here..” He stops, his gaze wanders down to Henrys lips.

“Then what?”, Henry manages to say.

“Then..” He hesitates, biting his lip now. Henry leans even closer to him and then Ted kisses him. He only realizes what he’s doing, after his lips hit Henrys soft ones. Then he pulls back and just stares at Henry. Hesitant and also a little scared. Henry kisses him again, this time it lasts for a few more seconds, before Ted breaks it off again.

“Fuck”, he mumbles, seemingly out of breath already, “Sorry.”

Then he just gets up and leaves the room, leaving Henry alone and confused.

—

He goes for his room, closing the door and leaning against it.

“Fuck“, he mutters, “Fuck, fuck.. fuck.”

Why did it have to feel so fucking good? Ted was not prepared for that. Everything inside his head went crazy, he probably lost his mind, back there in the living room. He knew he was attracted to Henry. He knew that. But he was not ready for the flood of warm and fuzzy feelings, that quite literally just swamped and drowned him.

And then he fucked up. He fucked up so bad, it’s embarrassing. He‘s even too embarrassed to tell Paul.

—

“Emma!”

She flinches. “Fuck! What?” She turns around and hesitates when she sees the devastation in Henrys face.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure.”

Henry eyes Paul, before he adds an “Alone?”

Paul quickly gets up. “Sure.”

He leaves their room and then it’s just Emma and Henry left.

“What happened?”

“You’re right. He’s unnecessarily mean.”

“Ted?”

“Yes!“

“What happened?”

“He.. nothing.”

“So you just came to tell me that he‘s unnecessarily mean?”

“No..”

“Professor?”

“Henry”, he mumbles. Paul and Ted got used to calling him by his first name way faster than Emma.

“Yeah, right. Sorry. Just tell me what he did and I can kill him for you.”

“Don’t kill him please.”

“No, I won’t. That’s just.. never mind. I’m listening.”

“He kissed me.”

“Oh.”

“Yesterday. In the living room where we watched the news minutes before.”

Emma’s not really sure how she’s supposed to react. “How was it?”, she decides to ask.

Henry hesitates. It’s not like the kiss was bad. Henry did actually enjoy it. He enjoyed every single second of it. He’s simply not sure how Ted feels about it (even though he was the one who started it in the first place to be perfectly clear).

“It.. I..” He just stops. He’s at a complete loss of words now, as he remembers all of the things Ted made him feel yesterday. He reached for his hand first, making Henry feel all muddled and warm. And when Henry leaned in, Ted actually kissed him and made him feel even more flustered

“Emma..”, he mutters now and looks at her, helplessly.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him, you know?”

“No!”

“Professor-..Henry.. come on dude.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do this. He’ll have to talk to me first.”

—

Ted does find the courage to talk to Paul again, after two days of saying absolutely nothing. Paul almost thought that Ted would actually stop. (But obviously he was wrong)

“Hey Paul.”

“Hey man.”

“How are you doing?” Ted leans against the kitchen counter and slides closer to Paul, while nervously fiddling with his tie too.

“You wanna talk about how you kissed Henry and left?”

Ted hesitates.

“Yeah. ..how do you know?”

“Emma told me.”

“And Henry told her? What else did he say? Did he like it? Oh god he hated it right? I should have asked before I kissed him. I probably shouldn’t have left too.”

“Yeah I think the part were you left wasn’t exactly the best idea.”

“I know. Shit.”

“Jesus Ted! We left you two alone so you can actually confess your feelings for each other. Not for you to pull a shit ass stunt like that!“

“Oh that’s why you left.”

“Listen, Henry keeps telling Emma about you, you keep telling me about him and by now we both have enough. Just sort it out man.”

“He talks about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What does he say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he like me?”

“I don’t know. How about you ask him?”

“He must hate me, now that I just fucked off after I kissed him.”

“Yeah.”

“You think so?”

Paul sighs. “I don’t know.”

“I mean I do. I think so. But I hope he doesn’t because I’d love to kiss him again someday. It was great.”

“You’re an asshole Ted.”

“What?”

“You keep talking about how great he is, but when you actually had the chance to tell him, you just kissed him and left. Who does that?”

“I panicked! Jesus Christ Paul!”

“Yeah that justifies absolutely nothing.”

“Can you stop being to brutally blunt? I already feel bad.”

“Apologize to him then.”

“I’m not good at apologizing.”

“Ted, if you like him, you’ll do it. You like him right?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t know I actually like him. I never felt that much shit while kissing someone.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it? You actually have a heart.”

“Woah, thanks Paul.”

“You’re welcome. Now go talk to him.”

“Now? No. I’m not ready, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Ted!”

Ted just leaves again and Paul sighs. Ted will probably never do it.

—

“I don’t care anymore, Emma. Believe it or not, I’m over it.”

“Oh you’re over it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is that why you’ve been talking about him for the past..”, she glances at the clock, “hour?”

“..yes.”

“Professor, it’s late. Don’t you wanna go to bed or something?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, I do.”

Emma gets up, yawning now. She didn’t dare to interrupt him during his monologue, mostly because she felt bad. He’s so hopelessly devoted to Ted by now and apparently they haven’t talked to each other since the awkward kiss.

“Are you gonna be alright?”, she asks.

He nods. “Good night Emma.”

“Good night.”

She leaves the room and sneaks into hers and Pauls. They didn’t always share, but Henrys house doesn’t have that many rooms and now that they’re together, it would be rude to keep making Ted sleep on the couch.

It’s late and she doesn’t want to wake him, which is why she enters the room as quiet as possible. Except he’s still awake.

“Were have you been that long?”, he asks, almost amused at how slowly she sneaks through the door.

“I had to listen to the Professor ranting about Ted. Apparently he’s over him now.”

“Oh. Well Ted’s not. He‘s been whining about it all day. I can‘t take this anymore. We should just.. cuff them together until they sorted it out.“

Emma looks up. “Paul you‘re a genius.“

“What?“

“Let‘s lock them in a room or something. Let‘s set them up.“

“Emma that‘s crazy.“

“Seriously, if I have to listen to Hidgens talking about damn Ted again, I‘m gonna feed myself to the aliens.“

“Please don‘t.“

She smiles. “Help me then.”

“Emma seriously?”

“Just help me lock them in a room for like an hour. Please.“

Paul hesitates, but he nods at last.

“Alright.”

—

“Professor, can you help me?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Follow me.”

“Please tell me those creatures didn’t break through the fences.”

“No, it’s not that bad, just..”, she stops and waits for him to enter his bedroom. For some reason that’s the only room, that she and Paul could find a key for (besides the bathroom, but that would be rude, right?).

He hesitates when he realizes, Emma waited next to the door.

“What is it now, Emma?”

“We have to wait for the others.”

“Why are we here?”

“Oh you can see it best out of this particular window.”

He frowns, walking over to the window now.

“Jesus Paul, stop pulling on my arm, I’m fucking coming.”

There comes Ted. He stops when he sees Henry, who turned around by now. Paul slowly pushes him into the room, making him stumble a little.

“Now talk”, he just says, before he leaves and Emma closes the door.

“What?”, Ted mumbles, before he realizes what this is. He turns around to go for the door, but it’s too late. There’s already the quiet clicking sound as they lock it.

Ted hesitates, before he turns around to Henry again.

“Did they lock it?”, Henry asks.

Ted nods, mumbling a quiet “Fuck”.

Silence crawls over the room as both of them realise how awkward this is. They kissed three days ago and have been deliberately avoiding each other since.

“Do you hate me? Like are you mad?”, Ted finally brings himself to ask.

“No, why would I?”

“I don’t know. Because I kissed you and fucked off maybe.“

“I don’t hate you.” Obviously he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.

“I would understand it though”, Ted notes.

“Ted, I really don’t have the wits to decipher you.”

“Decipher me?”

“You are.. mysterious.”

“Oh. Like in a sexy way?”

Henry stays quiet and avoids his gaze now, as he tries to hide his smile. Of course in a sexy way. He lightly shakes his head though. Ted doesn’t have to know.

“I behaved like a fucking scumbag and I’m sorry.” Ted finally found the courage to say it.

“It’s alright Ted.”

“It’s not.”

“No, it is.”

“I’m just not good at this.”

“This?”

“You made me feel things.”

“Oh.” Well, Henry certainly did not see that coming. He‘s getting more nervous now and starts fumbling with the fabric of the curtains to hide his trembling hands. Good God.

“You know like.. romantic things?”, Ted continues, expanding the ‘romantic’.

“I figured.”

“Oh..okay.”

Ted stares at Henry, while nervously chewing his lip.

“Did you.. I don’t know, feel things too?”, he then proceeds to ask. He hesitantly steps closer to Henry, carefully reaching for his hand, pulling it away from the curtains and into his. “If not, that’s alright, just say it. But.. you know, I hope you did.”

Henry just stares at Teds hand, which is now fiddling with his. It’s kind of cute, really, and he can’t help but smile. He tries to find the strength to actually say something, but his throat feels more dry than ever and even though he manages to open his mouth, he doesn’t manage to say a single word. Ultimately he settles on nodding.

Ted steps even closer. He lets go of Henrys hand now and cups his face instead.

“Ted..”, Henry mumbles.

“Sorry.” Ted takes a few steps back, slowly catching himself. “It‘s shit that we can���t actually go anywhere, because I‘d love to take you on a date.”

Henry just keeps staring at Ted, too nervous and baffled to actually say something. His heart is beating at a rate, that‘s surely not healthy anymore.

“I can cook for you!“, Ted exclaims now, “I mean actually I can’t but I can try.”

Henry smiles, finally finding his voice again too. “You don’t have to cook for me, Ted.”

“Good, because I really don’t want to poison you. I quite like you actually.”

“You do.”

“Yeah.”

Henry brings his head up to Teds neck and starts to nervously play with his hair, while he tries to find the courage to actually say it back.

“Can you forgive me?”, Ted asks now.

“Forgive you?”, Henry whispers, before he swallows at the lump in his throat.

“Yes, for treating you like shit. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Okay.. yes, I will.” To be honest, Henry already forgave Ted after he said, he ‘felt things’. That was too much for his heart.

“Like..I get it if you don’t want me anymore or.. if you never wanted me. That’s cool. Just..wanted to apologize.”

“Ted..”

“It’s alright. Nobody wants that.”

“That?”

Ted points at himself and Henrys heart goes heavy in a quick second.

“Oh. No. No, I do. I want you Ted.”

Teds eyes widen, the corners of his mouth move up.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.. Well, uhm congratulations I am still available”, Ted says, stumbling over his own words in his delight.

Henry just smiles and lightly shakes his head, before he leans in and places a delicate kiss on Teds lips. Then he eyes him, unsure now. It takes him a moment, but then Ted leans over to Henry and kisses him again. In a hesitant way, as if he’s still trying, still testing, what’s okay. Henry reaches for his head now, carefully pulling him closer in a more confident kiss. Ted reaches for Henry‘s waist, holding onto it like he tries to keep his balance, keep himself on earth too. He already lost his mind a few minutes ago anyway. His legs feel weak, like jelly, like they‘re gonna give in at any moment. He completely forgot to breath and backs away from Henry now, catching his breath.

“Are you going to leave again?”, Henry asks, also out of breath.

Ted shakes his head. “Hell no.”

Henrys lips show a relieved smile and Ted just has to kiss them again. He carefully starts pushing Henry towards the bed too, because his legs really are going to give in soon, if they’re gonna keep kissing and Ted hasn’t planned on stopping anytime soon. They kind of stumble and ungracefully fall onto the mattress, pulling each other closer again right away. Then they lay there and cuddle, all tangled up. And they kiss, they kiss a lot. Until there‘s a knock on the door, causing both of them to flinch an quickly separate. Ted almost falls off the bed. He would have, if it wasn’t for Henry getting a hold of his shoulder and pulling him back.

“Guys?” It’s Emma. “Are you still in there?”

“Where else would we be?”, Ted answers, rolling onto his stomach and over to Henry, wrapping his arm around Henrys chest, who’s still laying on his back. He brings his hand up to Henrys cheek, carefully tracing his cheekbone, later his lips, with his finger. Henry smiles.

“I’m gonna unlock the door”, Emma says.

They don’t answer, too focused on each other now.

“Are you alright? I’m gonna come in.”

The door swings open and there she is.

“Wait it actually worked?”, she asks, after a few seconds of staring in surprise.

“Looks like it.” Ted puts his head down on Henrys chest now. “But I swear to god, if you ever lock me somewhere again, I will cut you-” Henry puts his hand over Teds lips, making him shut up. He’s smiling now.

“Don’t be mean”, he whispers.

“Sorry”, Ted mutters.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it”, Emma says, backing out of the door and closing it again.

Henry pulls Ted closer, with Ted reacting immediately and snuggling his head into Henrys neck (but only after placing a few kisses there).

“Are you like my boyfriend now?”, he then asks. For some reason, he’s still fearing a no.

“If you want me to”, Henry answers, also fearing a no.

“Yeah, duh.”

Henry smiles. He lets his fingers run through Teds hair and places a kiss on his forehead, before whispering a quiet but content “okay”.

#tedgens #tgwdlm #the guy who didn‘t like musicals #professor hidgens #ted #professor hidgensxted

[theangelssecondwing]

Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter contains potentially very triggering content, including syringes, forced sedation, medical abuse and mentions of a forced medical examination. Reader discretion is advised.

The next day, Rufus called me into his office. Once the door was closed behind me, he motioned for me to sit down. I tried to read his expression, but it was completely neutral. „Any news?", he asked. „Sephiroth, Angeal and Zack are currently at the reactor in Sector 5 to investigate it. I stayed behind because Sephiroth feared that it could be too dangerous for a civilian. If Hollander did have a secret lab at the reactor, there‘s a high chance that it‘s infested with monsters after being abandoned for so long." „It's good to know that he takes your safety into consideration. But I didn't just call you here to ask for updates. I also meant to discuss your employment at the company with you." „Oh?" My stomach tensed up. „I plan to make some modifications to your contract. Namely that you become my direct subordinate." I let that information sink in for a moment. „And what exactly does that mean for me?" Rufus sat back. „It means that from this moment onward, you will only take orders from me. Nobody else. See it as a promotion to my personal assistant." That's where I got suspicious. „And what exactly did I do to deserve that promotion?" „You got involved with the search for Genesis. Some may see this as you sticking your nose in matters that don't concern you, but considering how little interest the people actually tasked with finding him have shown, your efforts are appreciated." Then he leaned over the table. „And I want to make sure that you're safe. Your relationship with Sephiroth has drawn some unwanted attention to you. Since the topic of our possible engagement is off the table, my father has little interest in keeping you safe, and Sephiroth can't always be by your side." Suddenly, I felt dizzy. „Unwanted attention?" Rufus nodded grimly. „A lot of it. From different people. Jealous fans are the least of your problems, though I assure you that I will take disciplinary action against anyone who harrasses you from now on. Some people believe that your relationship makes Sephiroth too soft, or distracts him from his work. Then there‘s a lot of people have a bone to pick with Sephiroth and will not hesitate to attack those close to him because of it. And of course, there‘s a certain scientist who has shown a very disconcerting degree of interest in you and the nature of your relationship to Sephiroth." I stared at my hands, curled into fists so tightly that I could see the white of my knuckles umderneath the skin. „...I see." Rufus sat back again. „So, as I said: you are my employee now. You will only follow my orders. If someone else tries to claim that they are a messenger from me, you are to contact me to confirm that. Here…" He slid a piece of paper over the table to me. „...my private cellphone number." I picked up the paper and stared at it for a moment. „...You do realize that our fathers will completely misinterpret this, right?“ Rufus nodded. „I‘m quite aware of that. But right now, your safety is more important than both our pride.“ He smiled, but it seemed strained. „We may have drifted apart with the years, but I never stopped caring about you.“ That caused my chest to grow warm with affection. And my eyes to sting with tears. „Thank you, Rufus. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?“ „One more thing." He got up, walked around the table and pulled at my cheek, with a smile that bore a striking resemblance to the boy he had once been. "It's good to have you back."

To say that I was elated when I left Rufus‘ office would have been a massive understatement. I felt like I shouldn‘t trust this situation. Everything was just going so right. I was dating the man of my dreams, I got my best friend back, the only thing that still needed to be fixed was the issue with Genesis. My delight should be short-lived, however. Since Rufus hadn‘t given me a task yet, I wanted to get down to the archives again, hoping to find some more information on Hollander and his projects. However, on my way there, I ran into Hojo, now Shinra‘s top scientist. I had seen him before, but only from a distance. Hojo only rarely associated with people he deemed to be of inferior intellect, and if that was the case, I was quite grateful for that. This man just radiated a syrup-thick aura that screamed „RUN“. He was middle aged, maybe late forties to mid-fifties, and always hunched over, making him look much older. The first wrinkles showed on his face, and his long, greasy black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He was carrying a clipboard in one hand, a pen in his other, like he was in the middle of taking notes on something. But he wasn‘t looking at the board. His razor-sharp eyes focused on me through the thick lenses of his glasses. The first time he directly looked at me, and I felt the overwhelming urge to turn back and run. „Ms. Hunter, I presume?“, he asked, looking me over in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. „That‘s me. Anything I can do for you?“, I asked, trying my very best to be polite. He didn‘t answer. He just mumbled something to himself and made a note on the clipboard. I could have sworn that he mentioned Sephiroth in his murmuring, but I bit my lip instead of asking. Then he walked a circle around me, as if to assess me from all sides, occasionally stopping to scribble something down. All while mumbling to himself. „Ex...cuse me, but what are you doing?“, I asked, still straining to stay calm. „You wouldn‘t understand it anyway. So there‘s no need for me to explain it to you.“ Then he reached to touch my hair. I twitched back and snapped:„Hands off!“ He looked at me as if I had two heads. Then he shook his head and mumbled:„I hate it when they‘re being so difficult.“ before making another note. „Well, Ms. Hunter, I must ask you to follow me to the laboratories. For the sake of… a routine examination.“ „Strange. There hasn‘t been any announcement of a ‚routine examination‘.“ I was shaking and just wanted to leave. How much of an idiot did this guy take me for? He wasn‘t a physician. Everyone knew he wasn‘t. Hojo‘s eyes flashed up again, and the predatory grin on his face really didn‘t help my state of mind. Did that guy even know how damn creepy he was? „You probably just missed it. Now come along.“ I shook my head and took a few more steps back. My entire system was in overdrive, and I felt almost dizzy from the adrenaline. Shit. Where to now? Back to Rufus? To my father? Before I could come to a decision, Hojo just grabbed my wrist. For someone so meager, he was surprisingly strong. And without paying any attention to my protests, he began dragging me down the hallway, to the laboratories.

„Sedate this one“, he ordered one of his assistants once the blurred glass doors of the lab closed behind us. To my great misfortune, we hadn‘t met anyone I could have asked for help on our way. The assistants stared at me. „Professor, she‘s the daughter of one of the president‘s wealthiest business partners. President Shinra will have our heads if he finds out we‘ve been conducting experiments on her.“ „Progress demands sacrifices. If you can‘t live with that, you‘re in the wrong profession.“ With that, he dragged me over to an operating table, while one of the assistants approached with a syringe. „Fuck this“, I hissed and tried to wiggle myself free, even tried to kick Hojo‘s shin but it was no use. The sharp pain of the needle shot through my arm, and then everything became hazy. „Put her on the table. We will begin-“ The door to the lab was kicked open with so much force that the glass shattered. Then there was yelling. Security storming in. That was the last thing I remembered.

When I woke up, I didn‘t know what had happened at first. I was dizzy, and there was this annoying humming in my head. I wanted to rub my eyes, to help me regain my vision faster, but my movements were painfully slow. But everything around me soon became much clearer, and I recognized Sephiroth‘s worried face just inches away from mine. „You‘re awake!“ He sounded so relieved. „When we came back and were told that Hojo dragged you off, we feared the worst.“ „Sephiroth.“ I reached up to touch his face, but my arm was shaking, as if the muscle couldn‘t carry its own weight anymore. He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. „Where‘s Hojo?“ Even though I was still sluggish and barely conscious from the after-effects of the sedative, I couldn‘t wait to get up and chocke this bastard with my own two hands... „He‘s been arrested.“ Sephiroth gently rubbed my temples. Another voice spoke, but I couldn‘t hear it properly. Sephiroth looked up and nodded, and then looked at me again. „Cora, your father is here, too. He came here as soon as he could.“ I turned my head and looked at my father. He was white as a sheet, holding my limp hand in his. And now I slowly realized that I was in a hospital bed. A third voice spoke, one that I was now awake enough to identify. Rufus. „I‘m terribly sorry that his happened“, he said. „It shouldn‘t have happened.“ „You‘re damn right it shouldn‘t!“, my father barked. „Your pet scientist could have killed my daughter! I want to see him bleed for that!“ „Unfortunately, it‘s not that easy“, Rufus replied. „Hojo is the top scientist of Shinra, and plays a leading role in many of our projects. My father won‘t just let him go like that.“ „Top scientist? Please, the man can‘t tell one mammal from another“, Sephiroth murmured, his hands tensing up. „I support Mr. Hunter‘s wish for justice. Who knows what would have happened to Cora if we hadn‘t found her in time.“ „You should keep your mouth shut, young man!“, my father snapped. „This is all your fault. Hojo was only interested in her because of you! We found his notes, and they were all about what could have possibly made her attractive to you, and how they could use that to… to...“ My father‘s face was red as a lobster at that point. „I told her it was a dumb idea to get involved with you!“ „Enough!“, I finally said somewhat clearly. „None of this is Sephiroth‘s fault. You‘re just looking for another excuse to try and break us up.“ The words didn‘t come out as sharply as I would have liked them to, but my father seemed to understand the tone anyway. He took a deep breath and left the room.

#The Angel's Second Wing #fanfiction #selfship fic #tw medical abuse #tw syringe #tw forced sedation #just Hojo being a creepy mfer