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thewulf · 5 months

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Always & Forever Pt. 2 || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - i absolutely loved the one with jj and routledge!reader after jb and Sarah are presumed dead (its absolutely brilliant) and was wondering if you could do a continuation of it where reader has conflicted feelings after they return and jj comforts her and tells her that it's okay

A/N - Ugh, I just love a good JJ comfort. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k+

“It’s nice to see you out of that Chateau.” Kiara rubbed your shoulders before sitting down on the bench outside next to you. The three of you had met up outside the high school after running out of class. All of you receiving the text from your apparently not so dead brother John B. Kiara texted you where to meet them. The text was simple. They’re alive and okay. In the Bahamas. Living and breathing. With a picture to prove it.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked at the simple text and picture. They were alive. The son of a bitch did it. You nodded looking up to your almost sister. The one you ran to when you needed advice. She wrapped you up in a swift hug seeing you on the verge of yet another breakdown. Giving you a tight squeeze, you were ever thankful for the friendship you had with her. Thankful your brother brought such incredible people into your life. You had a different set of friends, ones a few years younger. Your age. John B made you when you were younger so that you could be your own person too. In the end you preferred his friends, but you still liked your school friends. They were the ones that knew you better than yourself somehow. The ones helping you limp along through the pain.

“He’s okay. They’re alright.” She gave you another soft squeeze before letting you go. She sat down at the table next to you across from Pope.

You nodded not being sure about it all, “I just… I can’t believe it.” You felt a tear drop down your cheek as you read the message over and over again, “I thought they were dead.”

“Hey, look at me mins.” JJ stepped forward. Using the pad of his fingertips he brushed away the tears you had tried so hard to hold back but failed at miserably in doing so.

He truly couldn’t fathom how you felt. He spent the better part of four days nursing you back to health and walking you through it. You hadn’t fully accepted his death, but you were beginning to. And now this? You were thrilled but felt so…guilty? Guilty for not believing. For letting yourself wither away for no reason.

“They’re alright Y/N. They’re alright.” He gave your arms a light touch before sitting down next to you. Pope and Kiara lost in a conversation of their own.

“Thank God for that.” You mumbled before leaning into him, “How the hell are we going to get them home? The Bahamas?” Sighing you tried your best to come up with a solution but falling miserably short.

“That’s not your job to figure out. They’ll be back soon. Don’t you worry. We just got to keep you out of trouble until then.” His smile brought one out in you too. He was so confident it would be alright that it made it hard not to believe him. JJ may have been messy, but he never let you down, never lied to you. So, why would he start now?

“I’ll choose to believe you Maybank.” You leaned into him feeling the weight of the world come crashing down once more. What a strangely emotional day. You should be happier than anything. And you were. But it felt off. Felt strange. Like somebody dead was coming back to life. He was never dead though. But you grieved him. He felt dead. And you couldn’t have felt more uneasy about it all.

He grinned, wrapping his free arm around you, and pulling you close, “When have I ever let you down mins?”

You shook your head quickly, “You haven’t.”

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, “I promise, that’ll never change.”

JJ was screaming at the three of you, “Go, go, go, go, go, go!”

How in the hell did you always end up in these situations? The damn truck broke down and you were running for your life, literally.

When Kie screamed, “Guys, I think he has a gun!” You kicked it up a notch. Oh, how your body wasn’t quite ready for this, not in the slightest. JJ ran behind you, clearly not running as fast as he normally would. He had to make sure you were alright.

“Keep your heads down!” JJ shouted as he tailed you. JJ was ready to pull you in a different direction need be. He knew Kie and Pope could fend for themselves. He wasn’t so sure you were doing alright though. You were running considerably slower than you normally would.

“Fucking hell.” You cursed more to yourself than anybody else. You knew you were holding them back.

“You alright there Routledge?” JJ called out from behind you hearing you mumbling something from in front of him.

When you put your thumbs up out to side of you he knew you were fine. Winded for sure but fine. You’d never back down from a challenge. Never get caught. No that wasn’t a possibility for you.

“Down the alleyway!” Pope shouted before darting down a side. JJ caught you before throwing you forward with his momentum when you were caught off guard in a daze.

“Thought you said you were alright?” He asked, barely out of breath as you stumbled forward. If it weren’t for JJ you’d surely have been caught by now after stumbling over your very own feet.

You nodded, “Sorry, just getting a little tired.” It wasn’t a lie, no. It just wasn’t the full truth. You felt better, you looked better. But you weren’t completely better. You still got tired quicker than normal. Your body still recovering from the trauma it went through.

Before he could respond though you ran right into the back of Pope who stopped so suddenly not even JJ could react.

“What the hell Pope!” You pushed him after you bounced right off his back.

“Y/N.” The voice of your older brother snapped you out of your fit of irritation at your friend. It couldn’t be. No, it couldn’t be John B? You peered around your much taller and broader friend to spot not only John B but Sarah as well sitting on a bike and cart.

“Holy shit.” You gasped it utter shock. This was the last thing you expected.

“Come on! We gotta go!” Sarah pulled you onto the cart right onto her lap. She held you close.

You couldn’t believe it. John B and Sarah. Just fine. In fucking Charleston of all places? Who would’ve thought?

“You’re alive.” You stated more than asked as you looked up to Sarah. You’d grown close to her in the few short months she’s been around.

“Yeah. We’re alive.” She smiled down at you ignoring the antics of the pogues around you.

“And you’re okay? He’s okay?” John B was laughing at the commotion, high on life as he reconnected with the group.

“As okay as we can be kiddo.” She gave you a quick hug but left her arm wrapped around you as she cheered once the group pushed the man who had been chasing them on the ground. Off to the boat they went. Off home they went. It all felt so surreal. Like the last week of your life didn’t exist. Oh, how the universe was playing with your emotions.

Once you were on the boat you sat there smiling, listening in on the conversation between everybody. A sick feeling took over your stomach as you looked over smiling at John B for the first time in a week. He was alive. He was okay. He wasn’t dead. He didn’t get lost at sea. He was sitting five feet away from you. Your older brother was okay.

“Y/N?” He asked. Almost like he knew you were stuck in your head.

“Yeah?” You asked. He knocked you right out of your thoughts. It was a voice you really never thought you’d get to hear again. It was the weirdest feeling. You felt euphoric that you’d found them again. Guilty for thinking they were dead. Scared as hell to go home. Uneasy about the future. It was almost too much to try and comprehend. Afterall, they accused John B of killing the Sherriff, you still had to deal with that mess.

“You didn’t answer the question.” He smiled patting your knee and sitting down next to you.

A light blush crept to your face. You were doing that a lot more often than you usually did. Zoning out of the conversation completely, “Sorry, I didn’t hear it.”

“You ready to get home?” Your older brother with the curly hair and honey brown eyes asked you.

A quick nod came from you without hesitation, “Yeah, more than ready.” You might’ve been unsure of your future but you sure as hell wanted to sleep in your bed. Especially if your older brother was sleeping in the room next to yours.

“Hey kid.” John B nudged your side, “You alright? You look like hell.” He smiled with a sadness you rarely saw from him. He was always tough on you. Only going soft when he needed. But when he saw your state he couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty. When he put himself in your shoes his heart broke at the realization of how alone you must’ve felt. You’d broken down without him.

“I’m okay now.” You turned to him giving him a shallow smile, “I thought you died JB. I kind of fell apart.” You whispered and turned away from him knowing that you’d fall apart if you looked at your older brother for much longer.

“I’m so sorry bug. I felt like I didn’t have an option at the time. And we got lucky. We really did. We probably should’ve died out there. I can’t even begin to apologize. You know how much you mean to me.” He spoke to you and only you. Everybody had given the brother and sister duo the space they needed.

You looked over to him with tears in your eyes, “I know. I’m so sorry JB. I can’t believe it’s come to this.” You felt defeated. How in the hell were you guys going to unfuck this mess up? Somebody was dead. It wasn’t your guys’ fault no. But it was being pinned on your brother. He couldn’t get locked up. Not for something he’d never dream of doing.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. We always do buggie.” He smiled trying to provide you some sort of comfort. He too had a plethora of nicknames for his younger sister. You in face hated bugs and eight-year-old John Booker Routledge thought it’d be funny to give his six-year-old sister the nickname bug. And of course, it stuck. Because why wouldn’t it? You’d secretly grown fond of the nickname over time

“I always have a solution and I don’t know the answer to this one.” You let a few tears fall. There was simply no solution. You had to let it all play out. Hide John B for as long as you could. It was going to be a task, but you guys could do it.

He rubbed your back trying his best to soothe you. You were wound up tighter than he’d ever seen. You’d clearly been through hell and back, “This isn’t all on you Y/N. We’ll figure it out as the pogues, yeah? Relax for me for a little while.”

“I’ll try.” You spoke leaning back into the seat of the boat. Giving your eyes a close trying your best to enjoy the ride back.

He hesitated. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, “I’ll leave you to it.” He spoke before getting up and finding Sarah who happened to be talking to JJ. JJ who was watching you with nothing but concern in his eyes. John B wasn’t dumb. He knew better. He saw the way his best friend was watching you. Something was very wrong, and John B didn’t have a clue what had happened.

“You should go talk to her.” John B spoke to JJ once he made his way back to Sarah, “She’s being quiet. Not like her usual self.” He frowned seeing his younger sister so out of whack. He needed you as much as you needed him. Your happy go lucky attitude got him through so much more than he’d ever admitted to you.

“Yeah sure.” JJ was quick to agree.

Sitting down next to you he gave you a moment before speaking up, “You alright there, honey?” He asked knowing that’d get a ruse out of you.

You leaned your head forward again before turning back to him, “Back to honey?”

He smirked, “Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

You retuned the smile. It felt like the first genuine smile in weeks, “Aren’t you so considerate J.”

Giving you a wink, he took one of your hands in his, not really caring that your older brother was watching with an eagle eye from across the small boat, “Only for you.”

Flashing him a soft smile you didn’t hide the sigh that escaped your lips. Feeling comfortable with your lifelong friend you leaned your head onto his shoulder. Your eyes fluttered shut hearing the soft lull of the engine cutting through the water below you. It was peacefully quiet as everybody found a spot and found their solace. It was always one of your favorite parts of a road trip with the crew. There was always a comfortable silence shared amongst the group. Absolute peace with the best people you knew.

JJ leaned his head on yours. He let you relish in the silence for a moment before asking you a question he really needed to know the answer to, “Are you okay mins?”

You nodded your head subtly in his shoulder, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re awfully quiet.” He whispered back to you. His arm made its way around your torso and sat on your side securing you tightly into his side.

“And you’re being awfully chatty.” You grinned into his chest knowing he’d find mock offense to your comeback.

You were right. He pinched your side, lightly and let out a “Hey!”

Lifting your head from his soft embrace you looked him in the eyes for the first time in a while. He was so pretty. The most handsome boy you knew. And you always made sure to tell him that whenever you could.

You spotted the concern dotting his eyes as he studied your face. He knew something wasn’t right. John B knew something wasn’t right. You knew something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t place it. You were so fucking happy he was home. God, it was the absolute best scenario that could’ve played out. Why’d you feel so off? So weird? Like you were in a dream or something.

“I’m okay J. I just… I just feel weird.” You admitted to the boy who wanted nothing but answers from you. When he broke out that sad stare you couldn’t help but to spill your feelings to your concerned best friend.

His head cocked to the side as he processed what you said, “What do you mean?” He pressed, needing to know. He looked you over for any signs of injury. You weren’t shot were you? He didn’t remember the guy firing a shot but who knows, a lot was going on.

You noticed his eyes looking for anything wrong, “I’m fine JJ.” You frowned not sure how to get spit out what you meant.

“Okay.” He waited for you to go on.

You turned away before continuing, “I should be so happy they’re back. They’re alive. I just feel off. I don’t know J.”

“You’re in shock.” He said so quickly you weren’t sure if you heard him right.

You shook your head off like he was crazy, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He rolled his eyes knowing you’d never take his word for it. You were as stubborn as your older brother.

“JJ I’m not in shock. I get what happened. I understand it…”

He interrupted you quickly, grabbing at your hand to shut you up, “You can understand it all. Still doesn’t mean you aren’t in shock mins. Two life altering events happened in your life within a week. It’s alright if you feel weird. If you feel off. It’s perfectly fine, alright?”

JJ wasn’t often one for such kind of comfort, but he knew how to when he needed to. You needed it right now. A little bit lost in a great big world.

You hummed, “If you say so.”

He smiled before gently placing your head back down on your head, “Remember what I said earlier? When have I ever let you down?”

He was right of course. JJ was always right. He had never let you down, “I love you JJ Maybank, you know that right?” You whispered once more, careful to make sure that nobody else heard. You had said it a thousand times to the blonde-haired boy before, but it meant something different this time. You loved him, you really did. And he knew it. He knew you were admitting far more than you ever dared too before.

A smile couldn’t be stopped from forming on his face as he realized the weight of your words, “I love you too. Love, love you mins.” He whispered into your ear careful to keep the moment between you and him only. JB and the crew would figure it out soon enough. He wanted to relish in the intimate moment between the girl he’d adored from afar for so long. His best friend. The girl he couldn’t stand to be around at first to the girl he couldn’t wait to see. His girl. You. Y/N. Little Routledge.

“Love, love huh?” You laughed in his chest feeling nothing but the purest form of joy rippling throughout your body.

“I love the hell out of you Y/N. John B’s going to murder me when he finds out but damn hearing you say that was everything. You’re it mins. You’re my girl. I can promise you that.” He wanted to kiss you more than anything. Especially when you looked up at him while he was cradling you in his chest shielded from your older brothers eyes. God, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

But for your sake. And his sake he decided to wait until it was just the two of you. He could wait. Instead, he brushed the hair away from your face and settled for squeezing you into him once more, “Guess what J?” You asked once he was done settling you in for the ride back.

“What’s that?”

“I love, love you too.” You grinned that beautiful smile he’d missed so badly in the last few weeks that’d ripped the life right from you. And that, that was worth everything and more to him. He couldn’t wait to spend a lifetime of drawing that beautiful smile from his ever more beautiful girl.

Always & Forever || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - Hii. Love your work. It's so good. I'm feeling a good hurt comfort fic with the obx cast. Could I get a JJ Maybank x reader (maybe john b's younger sister?) where she's lost everything after they assume John B and Sarah are lost at sea... Read Rest Here

A/N - Ohhh this was kinda hard to write. Being sad is a bitch. Please let somebody know if you're sad/getting sad. People love you! Always remember that <3

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3+

GIF by anakin-skywalker

TW: Talks of depression, being sad, not eating etc.

You barely heard the soft knocks on your bedroom door. Currently, you were huddled underneath the comforter of your missing older brother just hoping and praying he was okay. They’d officially called it. Lost at sea. Presumed deceased. Dead. Just like your fucking father. How was this your life? Two years ago, you had the world with the two coolest guys on the earth. And now? Now you were alone. Utterly fucking alone. It’d only been three damn days, but they gave up. There was no funding for a poor pogue boy from the wrong part of the island. Sherriff Peterman just gave you a sad look when she broke the news to you a few days prior. Or it could’ve been yesterday. Time didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. You were a sixteen-year-old girl alone as fuck in this cold ass world.

“Hey little Rout.” You heard JJ’s kinder than usual voice from the other side of the door, “You need to open this door or I’m going to have to pick the lock. Need to see if you’re okay. You haven’t been at school and Mrs. Smith is getting worries, she said she’s going to report you.” You heard the soft sigh of utter defeat as he waited for a moment for you to respond. To do anything. You didn’t have the energy to respond so instead you just laid there.

“Come on kid.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname he’d long since used on you, “You need to come out. Get some fresh air. You can’t stay in there forever.”

Nothing. You just couldn’t. Depression was a hell of a thing. You just couldn’t fathom getting up and unlocking that door. Your brain knew you should. But the actual thought of moving seemed like a foreign concept you weren’t ready for sure yet.

He didn’t give you much else of a choice as you heard the lock click. You knew it wouldn’t take him much effort to get it but alas, you just couldn’t care. It didn’t seem to matter. Nothing else mattered. John B was all you had left and now you sat here empty and void.

“Oh Y/N…” His voice trailed off as he spotted you withering away underneath a mass of blankets. A blank stare on your face. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes feeling grossly ashamed you let it get this kind of bad.

“I just…” Your voice croaked out as it hadn’t been used in while, how long you hadn’t used it you really didn’t have a clue.

He shook his head kneeling down beside your bed, “It’s alright mins.” His head was close as he smiled at you with a smile that never reached his eyes. A smile he was putting on for you. He took his hand brushing your knotted hair away from your sunken face.

Mins. You wanted to laugh. It was the first good emotion you had felt in a while. Mins was your current nickname of quite the long line of ever evolving nicknames from the blonde-haired boy. First it was mini-Routledge, then it was mini-JB, then mini and now mins. He didn’t use it all too often anymore, only when he thought you needed it. And you needed it more than ever now. All his love and everything he could give to you.

JJ knew just how much John B meant to you. He was your best friend. The two of you did everything together, practically inseparable. Even when JB met JJ they still included you in on everything. You were his shadow. That didn’t change as you got older. You just had to play it off as something different.

“I’m tired JJ.” You sighed letting your eyes close in front of him. The effort to keep them open was beginning to become too much.

He frowned deeply. This wasn’t like you. You were usually so full of life. The one who wanted to go and do things. The one who called him lame when he didn’t want to try something new with you. You were the one that kept the group going. And now it felt like everything was falling apart. The pogues were without their people and they needed you back.

This was your way of shutting down and he knew it.

“When was the last time you ate honey?” He asked while trying to brush the knots out of the hair he could get to. You were never particular about your hair, but JJ knew how badly knots hurt to get out. He remembered that one time when the both of you were younger, you crying when your dad tried to brush out some gnarly knots after JJ and JB tried to teach you how to surf one afternoon. It broke his heart even as a twelve-year-old boy. He had that same protective love that JB had over you.

You sighed trying to remember, “Before we found out he was missing I guess.”

JJ’s eyes bugged. He knew he should’ve checked in on you sooner. Damn the pogues who told him to leave you alone. That you needed space. You clearly didn’t need space. You needed help.

“That was three days ago Y/N.” His blood felt like it was running cold. How could he let you lay here for three entire days? JB would fucking murder him if he found out. Some friend he was.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “I’ve had some water though. Haven’t been hungry.” You admitted to your concerned friend. Your voice finally started sounding more like your own after the hoarseness had worked its way out.

“Well, that’s a start mins.” He sighed brushing his overgrown golden hair away from his eyes, “Can you get up for me? Get you some soup downstairs or something?”

“JJ.” You whined not feeling up to the task, “I’m too tired. I don’t feel like it.”

He took you hand in his and wanted to cry from how cold it was. You weren’t right. No, you were suffering, and they just let you. He felt nothing more than a piece of shit seeing you so broken, “I’ll carry you. I just need you to eat something honey. John B would be sick with worry if he knew you were starving away.”

“Don’t talk about him.” You turned away from JJ feeling your own blood run cold at the mention of your missing older brothers name. You couldn’t fucking believe he chose to leave you. Fuck, you couldn’t believe he’d ever put Sarah in that position either. It all felt like a fever dream you had to wake up from. But you weren’t waking up which meant this was a sick and twisted reality that you didn’t want to participate in anymore.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head on your pillow, “Please JJ. Don’t talk about him. I can’t take it. Not yet.” You felt the tears that had long since dried up come flowing back in an instant. Why in the hell did he bring out these feelings in you so effortlessly? Leave it to your older brothers cute as hell best friend that was certainly off limits. JJ would never, ever feel that way for you anyway.

“Alright honey.” Honey. That was a new one. You’d heard him use it sparingly on girls in the past, but it certainly was never used for you. But he’d used it a few times in the last few sentences sending your overly tired mind reeling in another direction. He was just being kind, that was all. After all, your older brother did just fucking vanish into thin air, “Can you please get up for me? Please mins? I need you to eat something. Whatever you what. Please?” He added one last please to let you know how dire he felt.

You rolled back over to him exerting far too much effort in doing so, “I don’t think I can.” You sounded defeated as the tears started once more, “I’m so tired J.” You whispered trying to contain the sob that wanted to escape from your throat.

“Cause you need to eat honey.” He spoke with nothing but concern on his face, “Let me take you downstairs? You need to move. Need to be somewhere new. Need to get some calories in your body.” He said so matter of factly you weren’t sure if it was JJ in front of you. But then again, for as much as a mess the boy normally was he thrived in crises situations such as these. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Yeah, that’s fine JJ.” You knew he’d win eventually so it might be best to just give it up.

He let out a subtle breath of sure-fire relief as he scooped you up into his arms. You were light. Far too fucking light. God, he was such an idiot. He knew you better than any of the other pogues. Of course, you needed help.

He set you down at the messy table filled with whatever shit JB had likely left there the week prior. You grew tired of always cleaning so you just started leaving it. Your eyes scanned the table full of junk. A sad smile formed seeing his homework scattered about with an unpaid parking ticket next to it all. He’d never get to finish that homework. Never would have to lie his way out of that ticket. Why him? Why your JB?

“What do you want to eat honey?” He asking running a hand up and down your arm. Attempting any form of comfort for you. He saw the sad look in your eyes as they scanned the table. He had to get your mind off of JB in any way he could.

“Why are you calling me that?” You asked instead of answering him. It was driving you nuts, and you had to know. In your right mind you’d never

“Honey?” He asked, a bit taken aback by your sudden brazenness. The you he knew would never have asked him that. Instead, you would’ve asked JB. Something you couldn’t do anymore.

You nodded in confirmation feeling your eyes droop and your mouth open to yawn. JJ cursed internally making the decision of canned soup for you knowing you needed to eat as soon as possible. Light and easy and calories. That’s exactly what you needed.

“I don’t know mins.” He admitted while heating up your food, “It just felt, feels right. I can stop saying it if you’d like.”

“I didn’t say that.” You spoke back in almost a whisper.

“Honey it is.” He grinned while putting your warm, not overly hot, soup in a bowl. He set it down in front of you waiting for you to eat.

“I still like mins too.” You added admitting to him just how much you did like the nickname. He’d stopped using it as much now that the two of you had gotten older. You’d forgotten just how much you’d liked the nickname. Probably because it was a nickname only you could have. A special one from the boy you surely loved but vehemently denied.

“Noted, now eat mins.” He grinned pointing to the bowl.

You nodded not really sure if your hands would agree with your brain. You were so utterly fucking exhausted. Turns out you did need to eat if you wanted to be able to function. Because it felt like a task you’d never be able to start. As much as you tried your arm just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Mins?” He asked seeing you not really making a move for it.

“I can’t JJ. It’s too much.” You hated to admit how disgustingly useless you felt. Yet here you were.

He nodded in understanding, “Here, let me.” He took the spoon from the bowl and held it front of your face. For the first time in three days, you relished in the taste of food. It did taste really good. And damn, you were a lot hungrier than you realized. Before you knew it the bowl was gone, and you were entirely full.

“Thank you J.” You let your eyes close once more feeling the outright exhaustion of the situation come down over you.

“Anytime mins.” Seeing your eyes close he noted your fatigue, “Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch a movie?” He suggested hoping you’d agree.

“That sounds nice J, I may need your help again.” You let out a frustrated sigh at the state of your condition. You did start feeling a bit better but the thought of walking or even crawling made you shudder.

He shot up from his seat to get you up. He picked you up like it was nothing, “I got you hon. I always do and always will. Remember that alright?” You nodded in his chest doing your best to fight off the sleep that wanted to take you.

“Thank you J.” You whispered into his chest. He set you down right next to him, letting your head fall into his side.

He wrapped an arm around your torso letting you know you were safe and secure. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you anymore. Running his hand through your hair he felt a shiver knowing you liked exactly what he was doing, “Always mins. Now, let yourself sleep. We’ll deal with all this shit when you wake up. Together.”

You nodded letting the darkness take over, “Promise?”

“Always and forever.” He gave your head a soft and gentle kiss before the soft snoozes overcame you. He decided he was going to watch you sleep, for however long that was. You were his everything too. He was only just beginning to realize that now. Always and forever. It had a nice ring to it. Forever with you was a life he would dream about. Maybe one day. Maybe after he sorted you through this mess. Maybe just maybe.

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justanotherrpmeme · 6 months

Text

You Have Outlived Your Usefulness starters

"You've served your purpose, [name]. It's time to clear the board."

"Your usefulness has reached its limit. I hope you enjoyed your brief moment of significance."

"You were a means to an end, nothing more. Now, your end has arrived."

"Don't get sentimental. Loyalty is a weakness, and you've outlived your usefulness."

"You were a pawn, and now the game has changed. Time to eliminate the excess pieces."

"Your role is concluded, [name]. I trust you understand the implications."

"You thought you were indispensable? How quaint. Your usefulness has an expiration date."

"In this grand scheme, your part is over. No need for unnecessary complications."

"I appreciate your service, but appreciation doesn't guarantee survival."

"Your tenure in my service was, regrettably, short-lived. Farewell, [name]."

"You played your part adequately, but the show must go on without you."

"Remember, [name], you were a tool. Tools get discarded when the job is done."

"You were a means to an end, and now that end includes disposing of you."

"Your role was pivotal, but now it's time to cut ties. Permanently."

"As the curtains fall on your usefulness, so does the curtain on your life."

"I hope you savor the irony. Your success led to your demise."

"No need for prolonged goodbyes. Your purpose fulfilled, your existence is irrelevant."

"Your chapter in my story has ended. Time to close the book, [name]."

"I trust you comprehend the finality of your contribution. It's time for an exit."

"You served your purpose, and now it's time to dispose of the excess baggage."

[EXECUTION] The sender raises their weapon, prepared to execute the receiver without a hint of remorse.

[SWIFT] The moment the receiver completes their mission, the sender turns on them, catching them off guard.

[DISMISSAL] The sender, with a cold expression, signals their guards to remove the receiver from the equation permanently.

[BACKSTABBING] The sender, expecting reward, is instead met with a swift backstab from the receiver.

[AMBUSH] In a calculated move, the sender stages an unexpected ambush on the receiver, catching them defenseless.

[MISSION] The receiver is given a seemingly impossible final mission, setting them up for a deliberate failure and subsequent elimination.

[PUNISHED] The receiver's unwavering loyalty is met with betrayal as the sender deems them expendable.

[PAYMENT] The sender, expecting a reward for their service, receives a lethal payment instead.

[UNSEEN] The sender, thinking they're safe, is unaware of the unseen threat that will soon end their life.

#rp ask #starter meme #rp starter #sentence meme #roleplay meme

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lets-try-some-writing · 9 months

Note

I had an ANGSTY idea

I imagine a scene where it's just a normal day at the base where the children are just hanging out and talking with their guardians (optimus and ratchet are over seeing decepticon activity)

somehow the topic of how long humans lives are comes up. The kids are oblivious to what they just revealed to the bots and seconds after this fact is shared all the bots freeze with realization and horror dawns on them.

Now whenever the bots are with the kids they act more happier and more willing to do what the kids want (and alot more protective) but under the facade is nothing but depression and sadness (the kids still oblivious)

Oh and optimus has a breakdown since he sees them as his own sparklings

Angst my old friend. I love this concept.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

It was not exactly a secret when it came to the short lives of organics compared to Cybertronians. The team were well aware that most organics tended to only live as long as a few centuries at best and possibly a millennia or two with technological adaptations. For them the lives of organics were still but a passing wind, but at least with a few centuries there was time for Cybertronians to grow close to their organic comrades. The team had each met other organics before and during the war, they knew how the organics near Cybertron worked for the most part. Thus they were not particularly concerned with the humans, although they did wonder why they grew so quickly and seemed to deteriorate with such swiftness when they had centuries left ahead of them.

The team largely did not think too much on the biological functioning of the humans and instead focused on their work. Despite that, eventually one particular Prime found himself uncertain.

Optimus found it particularly confusing how humans seemed to die so young all the time. In his free time he took joy in reading documents from Earth and learning their history. It seemed all of Earth's influential people died young. Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, Plato, Socrates, Sun Tzu, George Washington, and so many other influential figures, all dead before their second century of life. It concerned the Prime greatly, especially upon noting how involved the children, June, and Fowler were becoming in their activities. If there was some sort of genetic issue or other ailment that killed off those with influence, he needed to know immediately.

He brought his concerns to Ratchet who in turn gathered the attention of the team. This concern quickly spread and so as one unit the team researched human lives and reasons for offlinement. Before too long they came to the startling conclusion that almost every recorded human life ended when the human in question was around a century old. Some older religious and mythological records indicated that once upon a time humanity could indeed live for centuries, but that seemed to no longer be the case. Seeing this, fear for their charges wormed its way into the sparks of the team. Why were the humans dying so young? What happened to humanity to shorten their lives so drastically? Were their young charges doomed to die in the same manner?

Those questions haunted the team and in the end they decided to simply ask the children to see if there was some form of cultural misunderstanding causing them distress. The children were of course a little confused and it ended up being June who had to explain as the team huddled around, eager to understand and see if there was any way to stop the impending deaths of their wards.

Optimus: I have studied your history and it seems in the last few millennia humanity has failed to live longer than a century at most. Why is that?

June: We only live so long Optimus. We aren't big metal aliens from space like you.

Ratchet: That is true, but we have met organics before. Those that interacted with Cybertron before the war generally lived at least two centuries.

June: I-

Bulkhead: Is there some sort of illness killing you off?

Arcee: Maybe a conspiracy? I've heard of some organic civilizations killing off the older members of their population.

Bumblebee: *Is someone hurting you? We will stop them in that case!*

Optimus: Bumblebee is correct. If your race is under threat, we will gladly assist in stopping the needless death.

June: What? No. What you read are old myths, stories made up by humanity during various ages. They aren't real, we don't live much longer than a century and we never have.

Ratchet: What? But your historical records-!

June: Stories Ratchet. Just stories. Humans usually live around ninety years before we die. That is just the way of things.

Bulkhead: Then the kids-

June: Just like every human before them, they will grow old, and then when their time is up, they will die.

Not a word was uttered at the team slowly scattered, each considering what had been revealed to them. Suddenly a great deal had changed, and not a spark could change things.

Arcee had lost plenty of partners over her long life, but a human? And to old age of all things? She was terrified of that end. She would have to watch as he deteriorated and his frame failed him. How could she look at Jack and not imagine the way his skin would gain wrinkles and how his youthful energy would fade away into the bone deep weariness she observed in the elder humans she noted from a distance. A century was not long, it was hardly the Cybertronian equivalent of a year. Her boy was going to perish before she knew it, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. Tears were useless, and yet in the quiet of her quarters she wept until she steeled herself. She would give her boy all the affection and care she could over his lifetime, and hopefully in doing so, she could ease the ache of loss that was to come.

Bulkhead was left not as grieved and more saddened above all else. It was easier for him to handle the concept of youthful deaths in organics due to his long service with the wreckers and their allies. He was not upset at Miko dying long before him. No, what saddened him was that she would never have the chance to be a wrecker on a restored Cybertron. By the time their world was restored and things put into motion, he small body would have deteriorated enough to make being a wrecker near impossible for her, at least if she wished to be active. That chance was going to be denied to her because of her fleshy frame, and that above all else had him offering as much opportunity to let her be a wrecker as possible. She would not see the height of Cybertronian military and rescue efforts, but she would have a taste of it, that was his promise.

Bumblebee for his part panicked. He knew organics didn't live long, but he had not expected Rafael's life to come to an end so soon. If Rafael lived according to human standards, he would be dead before Bumblebee's next forging day. He had grown to care deeply for the child, and so while he was no fool and well used to death and the concept of it, his spark still panged with loss. Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself into spending time with Rafael as much as he could outside of patrols and battles. If his friend was going to die so soon, Bumblebee was going to try and be there as a comfort for as long as possible. He tried not to think about the fact that his human companion would perish and silenced any discussion of it when he could. He knew Rafael and every other living being would die eventually, he saw death, he was well acquainted with it, and yet still he was not fond of inviting it by considering it too deeply.

Ratchet was neither particularly shocked or upset, but he was somewhat saddened as he looked over June and the children. He was old, very old. He had been around far longer than even Optimus. Death was not a stranger to him, and he merely found himself nodding along when June spoke the truth. There was nothing to be done and he doubted the children would care for augmentations to extend their lives when all their peers would perish long before they would in that situation. He merely sighed and came to be more gentle with the children. They were incredibly young, even by the standards of their own species. They would not live to see their star go out, and that was likely for the best. To him it was best to let them live a life not burdened by the concept of eternity.

Optimus was quiet after the revelation. He kept to himself for a time, thinking, contemplating, and considering. He knew that his organic charges were not to last, but he had not expected their lives to be so short. His spark cried within him, saddened at what was in his mind, the imminent deaths of several sparklings. He knew of cases where sparklings came from the Well too weak to last. In those situations they were tended to with love and care until at last their small frames failed them and they returned to Primus. It was not the same since the humans would be able to live up to their full potential by their species' standards long before death came for them. But to a Cybertronian? They would not last longer than a Cybertronian year, and that brought him grief. There had been no young for so long, and now those he had come to care for were going to perish so soon? He did not like to consider it and so locked the sorrow away and followed Ratchet's lead, tending to the humans with gentleness and grace.

In response to the team's conflicting emotions, the children found themselves treated with far more kindness than before. Jack was given rights to ride with Arcee far more often and no longer did she try to dismiss him as much. Bulkhead, and later Wheeljack once he understood the situation, took every care to train Miko as a true wrecker, giving her weapons and opportunity she would never have otherwise. Bumblebee went out of his way to speak with Rafael, to tell him stories, and to otherwise speak of all he had seen in order to give his human ward a vision of that which he would never experience due to his short life. Ratchet did not change his behavior much, but he was less hasty in his wrath and spoke to June, more willing to learn human medicine and customs. Optimus fell to offering gifts and wisdom to the humans under his care. He could not be there for them as he would with normal sparklings, but he could show them wonders and offer the wisdom of ages long gone by.

The children found it strange but did not object to the additional attention until it started to grow somewhat suffocating. Only then did they ask why.

Jack: Look, as much as I like being able to go for rides whenever I want, why are you being so nice?

Miko: Yeah, and why are you being so... sad about everything?

Rafael: Is something wrong?

Arcee: Its nothing like that we just-

Ratchet, glaring at the rest of the team: You humans do not live long, at least not compared to us. You lives hardly make up one of our years. They are trying to treat you gently because they are upset about it.

Bulkhead: Well that's a bit of an exaggeration-

Ratchet: No its not.

Jack: Wait, so you mean that since we are going to die eventually, you are being nice to us?

Rafael: We are only teenagers, we aren't going to die anytime soon. There's no need to be sad.

Bumblebee, close to tears: *But there is! You are going to be dead in just over a year for us! And we can't do anything to stop it!*

Miko: Oh, so you are upset because we won't live as long as you.

Optimus: That would be correct... We have not had young of our own since Cybertron fell, and that was many vorns ago. To have you children in our lives has given us hope, and to now know you will not linger with us... we are sorrowful.

Ratchet: Don't stress yourselves over it.

There was little else to say after that revelation, but the children did what they could to comfort their functionally immortal guardians. It wasn't much, but a smile and a thank you every now and then eased the sorrow the team were blanketed in. The humans would die within the blink of an eye for a race from beyond the stars. But that did not stop them from enjoying what time they had.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #arcee #bulkhead #tfp kids #miko nakadai #jack darby #rafael esquivel #june darby #angst but also not quite #I am writing this while sick as all get out so lets see if this even turns out good #here's your kinda but not quite suffering

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anqelically-archived · 1 year

Text

moment 7 · ͟͟͞͞➳❥ kyo sohma x gn!reader

word count: 0.4k

content: no manga spoilers, fluff, the curse is broken already

navigation | event masterlist

kyo sohma wondered why you loved him.

before the curse had even broken, before he came to terms with himself, you loved him. without a doubt, you only saw him as kyo sohma, the tsundere ginger you dearly loved.

but why? why love him when he was shunned and cursed out by most of his family for being a monster? kyo thought that maybe there was just something you weren’t seeing, but he realized that he was wrong. you saw everything, and it was everyone else that fell short of doing so.

you were never sohma in the first place, hence your unbiased opinion. the zodiac tale was merely a story passed on from one generation to another in your eyes. its words held no meaning.

despite that, you knew it held its weight to those it concerned. the moment that kyo was free of the curse, it was as if pounds of burden had been lifted off of his shoulders.

he was able to do something that he had held back on for so long. with a swift movement from his arm, he pulled you into a loving embrace.

“i’m yours,” he told you. “i’m all yours.”

it’s been quite some time since the zodiac curse broke, and he was happier than he ever was. with no restraints, he was free to live a life with the choices he could make. freedom had never been so beautiful, especially with you at his side.

you sat right at the small dining table while kyo cooked your guys’ lunch. as if you were a pro, you folded paper roses with red and green tissue paper. multiple completed roses were in a pile at the end of the table.

you had finished your task the moment kyo placed a covered bowl and chopsticks in front of you. on a day like today, he decided to make your favorite ramen.

after setting aside the roses, you excitedly took the bowl’s lid off. the steam cleared and you found yourself staring at the food with a small smile.

“hm, is this what i think it is?” you mused.

on top of the ramen and other toppings was a sunny-side-up egg. however, it was cooked in a soft heart shape.

you gushed, “aww, how cute of you, kyo!”

“don’t mention it,” he shyly looked to the side.

“here,” something red came into his vision. “a super special flower for my love.”

kyo stared at the homemade rose for a moment before gently taking it with his hand. crafted with your hands during your own time, you handed him something he would hold on to for as long as he could.

“super special is right. as long as it’s from you, it’s the most precious thing to me,” he met your eyes, smiling.

as his first love, he hopes you’ll be his last.

note: kyo, my first love ❤️ we need more work for him and the other fruits basket characters (i say that but this is my first fruits basket work out of many 🙈)

please reblog for more!

#fruits basket #fruits basket x reader #kyo x reader #kyo sohma x reader #sohma kyo x reader #kyo soma x reader #kyo #kyo sohma #fruba #fruba x reader #fruits basket anime #fruits basket manga #fruits basket 2019 #aqwriting

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escapingrealityforamoment · 11 months

Text

In this short story inspired by Taylor Swift's "Love Story," Y/N and Conrad Fisher share a fairytale-like romance. They meet at a grand ball, their connection deepens through dance, and they declare their love on a moonlit balcony. Their love story becomes a legacy, inspiring others to believe in the power of true love.

As Y/N descended the staircase, their eyes met Conrad's, and the world around them seemed to fade away. Their love story had unfolded like a fairytale, filled with stolen glances and secret meetings.

Conrad took Y/N's hand, his touch sending a shiver down their spine. "You look absolutely stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration.

Blushing, Y/N smiled and replied, "And you, Conrad, are as charming as ever."

The ballroom buzzed with energy as they danced, twirling gracefully to the rhythm of their hearts. With each step, their love grew stronger, their connection deepening.

As the night wore on, Y/N and Conrad stole away to a quiet balcony, where moonlight bathed them in its gentle glow.

"Y/N," Conrad began, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Since the moment I met you, I've felt like I've known you my whole life. You've brought magic into my world."

Y/N's heart soared as they took Conrad's hands in theirs. "Conrad, you've captured my heart like no other. Being with you feels like living in a dream, and I never want it to end."

They shared a tender kiss, sealing their love in that enchanting moment. The stars above seemed to celebrate their union, shining brighter as if to affirm their destiny.

Their love story continued to unfold, filled with cherished memories and shared dreams. Through ups and downs, Y/N and Conrad held onto each other, their love growing stronger with every passing day.

And as time went on, their fairytale romance became a legacy, inspiring others to believe in the power of love and the possibility of happily ever afters.

Together, Y/N and Conrad danced through life, forever entwined in a love story that defied time and echoed across the ages.

#conrad fisher x y/n #team conrad #belly x conrad #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp conrad #tsitp s2 #tsitpbookseries #tsitp fanfic #tsitp2 #tsitp season 1 #tsitp x you #tsitpedit #tsitp x reader #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher imagine

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fafnir19 · 6 months

Text

The Angel Makers' Heir - Part I

As I step into the vibrant hall of the quaint inn, joy and laughter emanate from every corner. A vivacious spirit fills the space, warming the air with a sense of conviviality. Approaching me is a woman in her nineties, engaged in the meticulous task of arranging the seating. "May I inquire your name?" she asks, her tone tinged with curiosity. "Luci," I respond with a warm smile, "short for Lucius, but everyone calls me Luci." At my name, the elderly woman—whom I later learn is named Ina—wears a look of disbelief. "Luci? That simply can't be right. Luci should be a girl's name," she insists, her uncertainty palpable. I chuckle softly, dismissing her doubt. "It's just a nickname for Lucius, but I've always gone by Luci. And about my parents—" Before I can continue, Ina interjects, her gaze searching for affirmation. "Are you sure they are truly your parents?" she probes, her eyes fixed intently on me. I recount with a casual air, "Well, pretty sure. I was born on a Sunday right in the living room at home. Almost all the women in my family are midwives, you see." Ina falls silent, a thoughtful expression settling upon her features, before guiding me to my designated seat.

As revelry fills the inn, the tempest outside intensifies, and my gaze is drawn to the towering dike. There, a distinct figure comes into view—a three-legged, white stallion. Concern grips me, and I suggest to a fellow guest, "Shouldn't we bring that animal in from the dike in this weather?" My inquiry is met with skepticism, the other guest attributing it to inebriation, insisting that I am seeing things that are simply not there.

Ina overhears our exchange and turns visibly pale, her reaction disconcerting. With the evening advancing, the storm rages on, and the overseer of the dike calls upon all men for dike defense. Attempting to restrain me, Ina becomes increasingly distressed, adamantly protesting, "Luci must not go to the dike! He will bring tragedy upon us all!" The dike overseer, perturbed by Ina's outburst, advises me to remain within the inn, expressing concern for her well-being and citing my lack of familiarity with dike defense. Eventually, the dike gives way at the very spot where I had spotted the three-legged stallion. Although swift repairs are made, a man tragically loses his life in the process. The next morning, as the storm's fervor abates, I board the ferry back to the city. My spirits are heavy—I had been in the company of the man who met his untimely end by the relentless sea just a short while ago. As the city grows closer and the island retreats from view, I am overcome with relief at the thought of leaving that eerie isle behind. Yet, the unsettling events of the past night linger with an indelible weight. In the ensuing weeks, the relentless drudgery of everyday life slowly eclipses the unsettling events of the island. Despite this, an uncanny presence continues to lurk in the recesses of my thoughts.

Several months have passed, and I find myself engrossed in my evening duties at the local retirement home. I worked there to earn money to afford my university studies. The quiet hallways whisper with the hushed murmurs of the residents, and a sense of tranquility permeates the air. It is amid this serene setting that I chance upon a peculiar sight—a three-legged stallion, the very same from the island, gazes through the frosted window. I am taken aback, for it seems inconceivable that the creature has traversed the distance to be here. Yet, as I cast a glance around the quiet corridor, I realize that I am the sole witness to its spectral visit.

The following day, upon my arrival at the retirement home, I am met with the somber news of a resident's passing. It strikes me that the enigmatic stallion had appeared just before their demise, unsettling my thoughts with its inexplicable presence. In the wake of this disquieting revelation, I find myself contemplating the unsettling connection and the enigmatic forces at play. My mind becomes increasingly consumed by questions that remain unanswered, whispering of inexplicable connections and spectral omens. The weeks pass with an unshakeable unease, and I find myself continually drawn back to the island and its inscrutable inhabitants with relentless curiosity. Driven by an unwavering resolve to unravel the mysteries that linger in the island's embrace, I embark on a solitary journey in pursuit of understanding. As the ferry carries me over the swelling waves, I grapple with a blend of trepidation and unyielding determination. The shores of the island draw nearer, and with their arrival, a faint but unmistakable suggestion of ancient secrets etched into the very fabric of the land begins to unfurl.

#mystery #Angel Makers' Heir

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darkherolovercroissant · 2 years

Text

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

Library 📚

Simon Ghost Riley X Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst (It’s sad bitch hours now) Mentions of death, based off the Song by Taylor Swift.

———————————————————————

No words appear before me in the aftermath

Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t supposed to end at all, but apparently life wasn’t done making his life worse. First his family, then him and now it took his last bit of sanity outside of Taskforce 141.

He had just finished listening to the new mission briefing when Captain Price passed him a letter. Taking it and reading what it said, not thinking much until his eyes travelled over the words.

His eyes filling with tears as he stands up fast and basically bolts out the door to somewhere away from lingering eyes.

Somehow the men they had tracked had found Simon’s weakness. They used it to win the battle, successfully knocking him down a few pegs. His weakness being his wife that he had hidden away from his life, or so he thought. They had found her and weren’t satisfied with hurting her, they completely took her from him and now he was trying to understand why. She was innocent and had nothing to do with this, just like the little bundle of innocence growing in her stomach that they had made in the highest high of love and need.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

Who was he think that life would let him have some form of happiness. He remembered the night you told him about the baby. He wouldn’t lie about being scared, with everything he suffered from as a child with his father. He didn’t trust himself as first, but man did he grow more in love with the unborn baby as time went on.

The baby he and his wife were excited to welcome, would never be. It was a short time of knowing and he was excited, but now he had nothing. He had pined for that feeling of completion. It was right there in front of him and he was reaching out for it. Every time he saw you grow bigger the further you advanced in the pregnancy, made him more eager for the arrival of your baby.

Now? Now there was nothing…. He had pined and pined for that completion. Now he would continue living while his happiness was dead. His wife and his baby had been killed by these men who were three steps ahead. He had so much in his future, but now there was nothing for him.

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

What could've been, would've been you

The one tough man, was now a shell of himself. Someone who was always strong, now at his weakest. Never going to meet that little bit of innocence he was excited to hold. The product of love was now haunting his mind as reality sat in deep.

That innocence within a world of hatred was now gone and now his days were back to how they used to be before he met you both. He was never going to meet that bliss he had pined for. He should’ve known better.

Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?

Did some force take you because I didn't pray?

Every single thing to come has turned into ashes

'Cause it's all over, it's not meant to be

So I'll say words I don't believe

He truly didn’t know what he did that warranted that kind of attack. How do people sleep at night knowing of what they took from people. How do people sleep knowing they killed two innocent people.

Maybe had he just been a better man, instead of that arrogant monster he would still have you. But he wasn’t that better man. He was that monster that haunted peoples dreams. And now what should’ve been you three in that happy family picture haunts his dreams.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you

As the helicopters and trucks full of soldiers moved in, Ghost was nowhere to be seen. He truly was like a ghost when it came to public appearances. He just vanishes and shows up randomly, which was shocking yet very amusing when you think you’re screwed, but then he shows up to save the day.

He was not thinking straight at all and had it been someone else, Price wouldn’t have let him join the mission. He knew that Ghost wanted revenge for his family, but he truly did worry when they never got more than a few lingering stares and the odd nod.

So much he’d have to live without because of those sinister creatures that pose as people. He had it all, now he had only memories of what should’ve been.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

The doors were kicked down as the monsters stared directly as the grim reaper came to collect those who decided they wanted to dance with the devil early.

They plead for their lives, but they fell on deaf ears as Simon had his revenge. The yelling and pure anger coming from him was enough to scare even Price who was scared what might happen to him if Ghost didn’t stop.

After the last one died, Price ordered everyone to help clean up and before he could order Simon to do anything, in typical Ghost fashion, he vanished.

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

He got home that night to see the nursery was intact and awaiting a baby that would never come. Stepping out of the room, he drug himself to your shared bedroom. It was clean and untouched since the night before it all went wrong.

Sitting down on the end of the bed, Simon pulls his mask off and just rubs his eyes before letting everything come out again.

“What did I do wrong?” The now once strong voice whimpers as he looks at the ultrasound picture on the desk.

“You should’ve both been here.”

“I’m sorry you two”

What should've been you

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty fanfic #angst #surprise it’s sad bitch hours #based on a taylor swift song #bigger than the whole sky #x fem!reader #minors fuck off #mentions of death #i need tissues #darkherolovercroissant #sad bitch hours #no happy ending

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e-wills-afterhours · 2 years

Text

Vetrnaetr, Chapter 6

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

A/N: You are not hallucinating. I wrote the thing. The first, truly new update to this fic in years, opposed to merely editing a preexisting chapter. That might explain why writing this was like passing a kidney stone. I'm in some kind of fawkward writing phase where I'm in a loathing relationship with everything that I write. Friendly reminder that RTTE is not canon in this AU. This fic is that old.

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Slaying dragons was a reality of life on Berk, only a few short years ago. In those days, bloodshed was ubiquitous, and Hiccup never flinched. One cheered it on and regarded it as a birthright. No amount of spilled dragon viscera was ever enough to settle the score. Dragons were creatures of terror. They brought loss and ruin to generations. Every downed beast was retribution for the Hooligans who paid for Berk’s existence with their lives. Violence was the rule; it was the impartial equalizer.

But that was primitive justice generated from ignorance. The truth of the dragons’ nature cut through the veil of self-deceit. Now there was before and after the truth, and the two could not be reconciled. Though Hiccup had lived it, and indeed aspired to be a part of that barbaric culture, he could no longer reflect on those days with anything other than detachment. His own past seemed a part of an archaic paradigm that held no place in their new peace. He separated it off in his mind like a malignancy.

Back in his tent, he stared up at the canopy billowing slightly in the icy wind. The image of the subdued Gronckle, struggling against its trance as it bled out on the temple floor, replayed in his mind, unbidden; he could not shake it. Once a scene that was commonplace in his childhood, he now felt only revulsion at the dragon’s pointless execution. He wondered if his father felt it too, or if five decades of war and death had numbed him to such things. Stoick had not rendered an opinion either way. They had returned to their camp in silence once the ceremony ended; perhaps his father knew there was nothing really that could be said.

The first thing Hiccup had done was wash off the bloody, sacred runes painted on his face. Then, he shed all his ornamentation as fast as he could manage until he felt enough like himself.

Music swelled outside, and the persistent murmuring among the sea of tents built into a cacophony of song and laughter. Revelry so swift on the heels of sober worship was jarring. Then again, what did one dead dragon matter to anyone else on the island?

“Celebration often follows reverence,” Stoick explained, “under the assumption the dísir have received our offerings and will continue to show us favor.”

Hiccup simply nodded and retrieved a book from his travel chest; he did not feel much like joining in whatever festivities were happening outside. His father did not admonish him, and he dared to hope maybe he would enjoy some peace and quiet, long overdue. To Hiccup’s surprise, the older man glanced at the book with a grunt of approval. If he had to guess, the fact that it was in another language quelled any potential criticism his father might have had about idleness; the book was written in the native language of Francia. Two more days remained on the itinerary—mostly politicking, since the religious obligations were met—and he would undoubtedly be required to attend those goings-on. So, while he could, he would retreat into more enjoyable pursuits. But he did not even have the chance to begin before the first interruption.

The flap of their tent flew open, blasting them with a sudden chill. Hiccup and Stoick both were both highly affronted. One of their oarsmen bowed his head in apology. He said, “Chief, you have a visitor.”

Outside their tent stood a tall, solid woman. Her black hair, flecked with gray, was pulled into a tightly coiled plait atop her head. She wore ornate gold and ceramic beads around her neck, resting conspicuously across her ample bosom. Her hands were clasped in front of her, each finger adorned with a heavily jeweled ring. The angles of her face were long and sharp, but there was a tenderness in her eyes upon regarding Stoick as he stood at the threshold of the tent. Hiccup did not know the woman’s name, but the brooch pinned on her cloak bore a sigil he remembered from his father’s incessant quizzes on the voyage over. He also knew that look on her face: it was softness was unmistakable to any man. Suffice it to say, she was not there to talk politics with his father. She was not one of the jarls, but it was clear her status awarded her some proximity to them.

Stoick hesitated. He turned toward Hiccup, looking ill with an unspoken confession. His brow wrinkled in distress, opening his mouth for an explanation that his son thought was unnecessary. They were both men, and so they shared an innate understanding that need not manifest in words. Stoick spoke fondly of his late wife; and Hiccup had grown up knowing the deep love his father had for the mother he could not remember. But nineteen years was a long time; and the chieftain was still as much human at near-fifty as he was in his youth—there was no betrayal in Hiccup’s eyes.

“It’s fine, Dad,” he said, before the man even uttered a syllable.

He did not think he could stand the indignity of his father fumbling to justify his most personal business. Stoick the Vast did not need his permission, but Hiccup would give it anyway if the man really wanted it. As far as he was concerned, the less they talked about it, the better.

“Yes, son. But I —”

“It’s fine.”

Stoick gave a brief nod before disappearing with the woman, leaving Hiccup in blissful solitude. For an indistinct time, it appeared as though he would not have to be the Heir of Berk for anyone, and he was glad for it. With a beleaguered sigh, he collapsed flat on his bed, holding his book overhead. He had not realized the full weight of the façade he maintained until he dropped it. So many things that he had blocked from his mind for the sake of duty began flooding back in, making it more difficult to focus on an already foreign script.

He thought about the warmth of the Berk’s mead hall and the enticing combined aroma of stewed meats, beer, and mulled wine that was typical of the season. How nice were those simple delights he took for granted now that he was on a frigid and barren rock in the middle of an unforgiving, gray sea. He missed the sound of dragons’ roars and the thrill of brisk morning flights; he thought about Toothless and Sharpshot, trusting Fishlegs was taking care of them, but worried about their wellbeing all the same; he even missed his loudmouth cousin and the twins’ antics out of need for friendly and familiar faces, if nothing else. Of course, he thought of Astrid too; and though their last few days together had been strained, his heart ached for her touch more than he cared to admit. His anger with her dulled in the inflated fondness brought on by her absence.

Even when he most desired peace, it appeared as though his busy mind would not grant it. Maybe Snotlout and Tuffnut could shut off their brains for a time, as they occasionally boasted to no one's admiration; but Hiccup rarely had the same luxury.

He snapped the book shut without finishing the first page. The words bled together, and he retained none of them. Setting the book on his stomach, he closed his eyes and embraced thoughts of home instead, hoping they would dissolve into tranquil nothingness. Time passed in daydreams. Maybe an hour or so. As the night dragged on, the celebration outside grew louder, with no signs of ebbing soon. He was resigned to a restless evening until a new distraction came for him.

“Hiccup?” he heard someone call from outside the tent.

The voice was feminine, and he sat up frowning, unsure his ears were working properly. He hesitated, listening against the greater ruckus beyond his camp.

“Hiccup? Are you in there?” The voice called again.

“Oh, aye. He’s there,” one of the oarsmen chuckled; and Hiccup felt a wave of unease at the suggestive tone in the other man’s voice.

Grabbing his discarded cloak, he rose from his bed and fastened it around his shoulders in a hurry, leaving his book on the furs. Next, he blew out the candle, not wanting it unattended for long; he did not know how long this unexpected meeting would take.

Throwing back at flap of his tent, his stomach gave an involuntary leap to see Heather waiting for him. The snow was falling harder then, but she did not seem to mind it. Her smile generated plenty of warmth of its own as she laid eyes on him. Behind her, his crewmen exchanged knowing looks and stifled their laughter in mugs of mead or beer. They gave Hiccup quite the approving side-eye—it was as if Astrid no longer existed in their minds. Or, at the very least, she no longer counted on shores so far from Berk.

“Heather! Is everything okay?” he asked, stepping out into the snowfall.

“Much better now that I’ve found you again,” she said.

He felt guilty, for reasons he could not articulate. Just standing there with her, and the way the crew misread the situation, felt much too indecent. He did not know what to say, staring at her blankly.

“Was there something you needed, or...?”

She laughed, high and tinkling clear. He hated that he found it so pleasant. She grasped him by the hand and fire raced up his arm, but he did not pull away as perhaps he should have. It might have seemed rude, and he felt that mattered for some reason.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, pulling him away from the relative safety of his tent toward the strange revelry of the night.

He did not want to go but could not find it in himself to deny her either. Sleep would not be had, no matter what course he chose.

“Have fun!” one of the oarsmen called after them, with a leading trill on his words.

Hiccup did not have the chance to assert that it was not what it looked like as Heather whisked him away into the sea of tents, banners, and campfires. Music filled his ears, various songs blending together into one discordant but joyous roar. Everywhere, people sang, danced, and imbibed. Some jarls still wore their blood runes. Thanks were shouted aloud to the gods and dísir, accompanied by mugs and horns held aloft and overflowing with all manner of drink. Assorted cuts of meat slow roasted on spits over burning coals hot enough that the gentle snowfall was a non-issue.

Spirits were high. The dried fungus passed around earlier by the völva seemed to be taking effect. Some men were lying down, propped against a pole or a tree, riding potent hallucinations, speaking of or grasping for things that were not there; while others celebrated with renewed fervor, entirely lost to the tide of the evening. Additionally, feats of strength were on full display amid passionate cheers and heckling; wrestling was the primary sport, but some still chose fisticuffs. Others played games and casted lots.

“This is so much more exciting than any festival in my village!” Heather explained, pulling Hiccup closer so he could hear above the crowd.

“This is like a typical holiday on Berk,” he replied. “You know, plus the thralls and with a lot less dragons.”

She beamed at him, holding onto one of his hands with both of hers. “Must be nice! You’re lucky!”

“I am.”

“And to think, you were going to waste a night like this alone in your tent!” she teased, wrinkling her nose in the same cute manner Astrid did; he hoped she would not do it again.

He sighed; she did not hear it. “Lately, it seems I’ve been spending a lot more time alone. But I’m used to it. I always have Toothless for company.”

"You? Alone?" she asked. "What about your friends? What about...Astrid?"

He found the hesitation on his lover's name odd. As best he could remember, the two girls had parted ways on amicable terms; but Heather now spoke Astrid's name with undue wariness, as if merely saying it would conjure her.

"Astrid and me? That...that'll take a bit of unpacking," he replied flatly.

"Really?" She seemed a little too interested; and she had the glint of ambition in her eyes that Astrid so often did whenever she was bound and determined to have her way. The similarities between them were disconcerting.

Two drunk men bumped into them, sloshing their beers everywhere, but they were too distracted with each other’s mouths to offer much of an apology. Hiccup was content enough to let it slide, since much of the alcohol landed on the ground instead of him. Heather was completely dry.

She watched the couple go, grinning to herself. She said, “There are some things that even dragons aren't good for!”

“I’m not sure I understand...” he replied.

Oh, but he did.

She just laughed, pulling him along past the great tent sea, past makeshift shops and stalls, now closed for the night. The tree line thickened, and it grew quieter. Their steps were hampered by deeper, undisturbed snow. Not too many people would see them, and those who ventured into the woods were not alone, preoccupied in all manner of ways with their own companions; far too busy to notice one more pair.

At least, on Berk, people had the decency to take their intimate business indoors.

“What was it like in the temple?” Heather asked eagerly, now that they had more privacy and she no longer needed to shout; Hiccup never expected to find privacy so uncomfortable.

“Bizarre,” he answered. “The völva were chanting, and it was like the whole place was under some sort of spell—something ancient and powerful.”

She finally released him, and his wrist relished the freedom but mourned the loss of another's touch. They walked together at equal pace.

“Did they draw the runes on you too?” she asked.

“Yes; but I cleaned them off.”

She sighed, gazing up through the naked branches, deep in thought. “I wish I could’ve seen it—the Dísablót, I mean.”

“Well, it was interesting—as long as ritualistic animal sacrifice is your thing...”

“Oh? Are you not the religious type?”

“I am, but not like that,” he replied, gesturing back toward the temple in the distance.

“You really are a different breed entirely, aren’t you, Hiccup Haddock?” she mused, nudging him.

“I’ll take the compliment, thanks.”

They took the next several paces in silence, breaths coming in puffs of smoke. Snow crunched beneath their feet, and there was not much light to guide them anymore; but with Toothless as a companion, Hiccup had long since grown accustomed to the night.

Heather stayed close to him, occasionally brushing her fingers against his in a manner he told himself was unintentional.

She was the first to speak again, her tone of voice softer than before. “Last time we saw each other—all that business with Alvin—I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Why is that?”

She looked at him, and he could not make out her full expression in the dark. “What reason would we have to cross paths after that?”

“You are a friend to dragons; so, you are a friend to Berk.”

She glanced down at the snow for a moment, then replied, “Mn. Yes. Friends.”

The trees began to thin once more, and they heard the rush of the ocean, rolling into Helgafell’s rocky shore. The island was not large, and so they had wandered upon another edge of it. In the faint light of the full moon, bleeding through patches in the clouds above, they could see the white caps on the sea. The water was one inky black expanse, stretching out beyond the horizon until it spilled off the edge of the world to nourish the roots of Yggdrasil. Just before the land sloped down to the waves below, a couple of small cairns had been stacked with great care. The stones would have been easy to miss were they not dusted with snow.

“What do you think is out there?” Heather asked, nodding at the endless darkness.

Hiccup thought about the foreign books he possessed and the Anglo-Saxon brooch he had purchased; he thought about the raids on faraway lands and the politics there, which reached him still. Names of kingdoms his father had drilled into him echoed in his brain: Northumbria, the Danelaw, Mercia, East Anglia, and Francia. The other jarls knew all about them, of course. He suddenly felt small and ignorant, like a child who stumbled into a room of adults conversing.

He muttered, “A much bigger world that is very different from Berk. I'm just starting to understand it.”

Heather moved in close, until they were standing face-to-face. She asked, “And what do you see, right here, in front of you?”

Hiccup’s throat went dry. He felt the back of his neck prickle and grow hot. Her question was dangerous, and he was not sure there was a correct answer—but there was most certainly an incorrect one; and he suspected that was what she wanted to hear. He could not give it. Even if she had asked him the question when they were younger and unattached, his answer would have been the same.

“Heather. I don’t—”

She grasped him by the front of his cloak, pulling him down as she rocked up on her toes, crushing their lips together. He froze, grasping weakly at her shoulders. She mistook the gesture for affection, because she leaned into him, kissing deeper and trying to coax a response in kind. His brain was yelling at him to get over the shock and come to his senses. His heart seized in protest of a wrong set of lips on his own. But his body was confused; it remembered being kissed in such a way and it missed the feeling. He was not repulsed.

Still—many things, though he was—Hiccup was not a fool.

He pulled away, leaving Heather clutching his clothes and teetering on the spot. She came back down, feet flat against the earth.

“No,” he said. “I can’t.”

“No?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

He pried her hands loose from him in as polite a manner as he could. She tried to interlock their fingers but he broke contact entirely. “No,” he repeated. “Heather, I’m with Astrid.”

She recoiled. “But you said things were...and I-I thought—”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say, stupidly.

A heavy silence fell between them. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared determinedly at the trees. Only a few minutes ago she had been a bright spot like in a miserable wilderness, like the first evening star; but she turned cold and lifeless as the surrounding woods. Hiccup hated himself, for being there in that moment, and letting her get too close. His heart was racing, and every second that passed without further explaining—defending—was painful.

“I thought things had soured between you two. You didn't tell me otherwise,” she mumbled, still not looking at him; and that brought the total count of women who now hated him to two.

Maybe he just needed to throw himself into the sea for everyone's betterment?

He said, “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

Looking back on how he had spoken of his relationship, and how vague and sullen he had been—the fault was his. But he had not invited the kiss; it was something he neither asked nor hoped for. Even his frustrations with his lover could not twist his words into untruths and allow him a moment’s secret pleasure in the affections of another.

He went on to explain, “No matter what she and I are going through right now, I still love Astrid.”

Heather did not seem convinced; or maybe she was pushing against his resolve to see if it would break.

She asked, “Really? Do you?”

He did not hesitate. “I have only ever loved Astrid,” he asserted.

After a moment’s pause, she gave a wry laugh. She dropped her arms to her sides in full resignation.

“Well, I guess that makes me quite the dumbass.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it does.”

She sniffed, and he chose to believe it was from the cold. The wind whipped their hair around enough that it was plausible, and far more dignified than the alternative. He could grant her that.

Hands on her hips, still avoiding his gaze, she said, “Well, now that I’ve utterly embarrassed myself, you should probably head back.”

He might find it laughable that she would dismiss him, if he did not also want to flee from the last few minutes and forget they ever happened. Heather was proud and fiery, like Astrid. That was one of the things that had endeared Heather to him when they first met. In so many ways, she reminded him of the young woman who commanded his fantasies. But in too many ways, she was also like him; enough so that nothing more than friendship could ever transpire between them, no matter how she might wish for it. He hoped, after the embarrassment subsided, she would come to realize it too.

“I’m not leaving you out here in the woods, in the dark, by yourself,” he said, refusing to return to the camps without her.

She scoffed. “I don’t need looking after, Hiccup.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, and he meant it. Still, he stepped aside only to clear her way. “After you.”

-----

One crewmember had stayed behind to watch the camp. Undoubtedly, the others had wandered off for more entertainment. Hiccup was relieved that he was greeted with only a nod and not a bevy of questions. The night was too cold, and his patience was scarce. He sought refuge in his tent, and vowed not to set foot outside again, no matter who came calling--even if it were Odin himself. The gods surely enjoyed their laugh for the evening, they had no need to bother him further.

Hiccup did not bother to reignite his candle, feeling even that simple task to be a chore at the late hour. The dark was not bothersome; the tent was easy to navigate. He shrugged off his cloak and set it neatly atop the heavy travel chest among his things. His father’s bed was conspicuously empty, and Hiccup did not expect he would see the man until the morning.

That suited him just fine.

He needed the solitude to think—or rather, not to think. It was debatable which was the greater labor: processing what had happened with Heather or trying to clear his mind of it altogether. Perhaps the more prudent question was whether or not he could, since he had never been successful in quieting his louder, more persistent thoughts to begin with. The clearest his mind would ever be, was flying his dragon and performing all manner of stunts to boost the adrenaline; or else it was lying beside Astrid, drunk off her body and the taste of her lips. At that moment, he had neither to pacify his brain.

Burying his face in his hands, he sat down on the end of his bed. Every fiber of his being was spent. Heather’s kiss haunted him: how nice it had felt and how deeply the knife of guilt twisted because of it.

Women were so godsdamned confusing.

Now he had a new dilemma. He would have to tell Astrid everything, which was a prospect that brought the bile to his throat. How remarkably unfair. He was not sure, in their current state, that she would believe he had neither solicited nor enjoyed the kiss. What she might do or say to him was not something he had any energy left to think about.

Were relationships supposed to be so painful? Why had no one warned him?

He had enough. Sleep beckoned sweetly. His eyes itched, and his blanket of furs was inviting. A good night’s rest might smooth over a lot of life’s current wrinkles. At the very least, he could consider his problems with renewed emotional fortitude; something he desperately needed, since he felt as powerless and bewildered as a rabbit in a snare. The one perk of exhaustion was that it overtook any buzzing in his mind.

He kicked off his snow-caked boot and removed his icy prosthesis, storing in within arm’s length should he have sudden need for it. His leather bracers came off next, followed by his belt and top, with a dull ache in his right shoulder as he pulled his tunic over his head. He climbed into bed in just his pants and thinner linen undershirt, burrowing deep into the covers, leaving no part of his body vulnerable to the cold, save for enough of his face as needed to breathe. The furs were heavy too, but it was like a long-anticipated embrace.

His whole being was unburdened. The relief was instantaneous, the moment he closed his tired eyes. Not even the ongoing festivities troubled him anymore. He could feel sleep dragging him down into warm, blissful oblivion.

Down. Down. Down...into towering white clouds and vibrant blue skies. The wind rushed in his ears, and gulls cried out to the tune of sea rolling far below. Rocky stacks loomed to one side of him or another. He sat upon a vague, scaly shape, that swooped and dove. Maybe it was Toothless.

The spray of the waves as he grazed the water felt real. He could smell the brine. The sun was glaring bright, almost blinding. At the same time, everything seemed softer.

Another dragon came into view. He was not sure who was riding it: the person's features were somewhat blurred like water droplets over ink. The mysterious rider laughed; it was feminine. The sunlight flashed off golden hair.

Then they were driving into the sea on their dragons. It was cold, but not unpleasant. All sound stopped, except for the muffled pulse of an underwater world. They ventured deeper, without slowing.

Down. Down. Down...

Then everything was black and still behind his eyelids, which he refused to open yet. Sleep had been too well-deserved to give up so easily. He could smell burning wood and a savory concoction, wafting through the air to entice him to wake. The murmur of voices sounded too far away for him to care.

But something was amiss.

He stirred with a small groan. Someone was applying gentle pressure to his chest. Maybe his father trying to rouse him? He took a deep breath in spite of it; the sensation was bearable, and he tried to ignore it in favor of sleep's wonderful, lingering comfort.

But then the pressure started to shift around, scuttling about on top of him like little feet. That was strange enough to warrant half a care.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

A yellow, bulbous pair blinked back at him—and something wet and slimy grazed the side of his face, rousing him fully.

With a shout of panic, he bolted upright, retreating as far and as quickly from the yellow eyes as he could—until he toppled off his pallet, onto the frozen hard ground, upside down. He grasped futilely for his prosthetic limb, hidden somewhere beneath the scattered furs.

The tent flew open, bathing him and the intruder in the pale light of the early morning.

"Hiccup!" Stoick called, standing there with his sword drawn, ready to strike down any enemy that dared to attack his son.

The man's expression changed to one of bemusement, laced with exasperation to find Hiccup in such a state. Two of their crewmen appeared at the chief's side, brandishing their weapons. All three men looked down at Hiccup, perplexed to find the Heir of Berk strewn out on the ground, underdressed and upside down, twisted in his covers.

"I'm...good," he told them feebly, trying to untangle himself--but not to salvage his dignity, of which none remained.

"Is that a dragon?" one of the men asked, pointing toward the pallet with his axe.

In the commotion, Hiccup had nearly forgotten. He craned his neck up as he freed his leg, spotting a blue and rather unbothered-looking Terrible Terror on his bed.

"Sneaky?" he asked, incredulous—but of course, it was.

"Is that one of Berk's dragons?" his father asked, eyes narrowed; and the accusation was plain in his voice.

"Yeah. It's Sneaky," Hiccup sighed, finally able to right himself. He stood, hopping a little until he caught his balance on his one, good leg. When he saw his father lacked any noticeable comprehension, he added, "Astrid's dragon."

"What's it doing here?" Stoick demanded, as if it was Hiccup's fault.

Because it was his son. And a dragon. Astrid's name was thrown in there too, for good measure. Naturally it was his fault. Guilt by association and dragon obsession.

"Is she writing you love letters now?" one of the other men spoke up, face cracked into a grin.

"Couldn't even make it a week, could you?" the second man teased.

Hiccup rolled his eyes and bit back the choice words he had for the two of them. He then found his metal leg by gathering up the furs and dumping them back on his bed. His prosthetic fell out and rolled across the surface. Sneaky scurried out of the way.

"Get that dragon out of here," Stoick demanded. "Send it off, before it's seen! I warned you of the consequences if it is."

"Sneaky won't be seen--that's kind of the point."

"Son--"

Hiccup held up a hand to placate him. "Yeah. Okay, Dad. I'll handle it." When his father just continued to stare with heavy skepticism, he insisted, "I'll handle it!"

Stoick sheathed his sword with a nod, and the other two men turned back to camp, snickering.

The chief instructed, "Get dressed. Come outside when you're ready. Busy day ahead; lots of meetings."

"Sure. Got it."

His father left abruptly, and Hiccup frowned, feeling as though the man sucked all the air out of the tent with him as he went. Resigned to a miserable day of abject boredom, he quickly changed clothes, dressing to moderately impress any other jarls they might encounter. That was the assignment, after all. He was there to listen, stay quiet, and look wealthy: a living testament to the Haddock bloodline.

Sneaky brushed up against him as he sat on the bed, attaching his prosthetic.

"You've got to stop scaring the living daylights out of me," Hiccup chided. He stroked the dragon, who arched into his touch and then rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach. "But, all things considered, I am glad to see a dragon around here."

As he rubbed the dragon's belly, he noticed the small parchment scroll fastened to its leg. He began to untie it.

"Once I take this off you, it's time for you to go home," he told the dragon. "You can't be seen, understand? I know that's not really a problem for you, though."

Sneaky, newly unburdened, took off at once, disappearing between the pallet and the canvas of the tent. Even though Hiccup scrambled across the bed to catch a glimpse of the departing dragon's tail, it was as if Sneaky had simply evaporated. Astrid would have been proud.

"Good dragon."

Turning his attention back to the parchment in his hand, he noticed various notes from Dragon Academy days on one side. The page was a rejected collection of observations that never made it into the Dragon Manual. He and Astrid had exercised their authority to veto any proposed additions from the others.

He smiled as he read Fishlegs's excited scrawl: When riding a Monstrous Nightmare, a rider must either fireproof his saddle or training method. Beneath his note, Snotlout had added Fireproofing the saddle is easier. My training style is perfect. Monstrous Nightmares are stubborn pains in the ass. Literally. Always carry burn ointment--but none that smell too flowery or people will think you've shoved a bouquet down your backside. Astrid had crossed through all of the writing with a single line, leaving it legible, and simple reply of her own: No.

As amusing as the trip down memory lane was, Hiccup did not think that was Astrid's intent when she sent Sneaky all the way to Helgafell to find him. He turned the parchment over and found a much longer note, written in cramped, albeit tidy handwriting.

It read:

Hiccup,

I'm at a loss of what to do. We're in trouble, and I think you can feel it. This isn't a problem you can ignore or fly away from. If things continue this way, then I don't see a future for us. That was not something I would have thought was even possible a couple months ago, but here we are. I do not want the naysayers to be right. Did we make a mistake? I do not want to believe it is true, but I am running out of arguments against it. Make me believe that you and I are still the right choice, and the heartache and scandal were worth it.

This was supposed to be easy. I feel like I am carrying this relationship. It's like I'm guiding you along and you are just sleepwalking. Am I wrong? Then prove it to me, when you get back. I'm drawing a line in the sand. Show me that I am not an afterthought, and you actually care about something or someone other than your own selfish hobbies. If you can't do that, better we end it sooner than drag out the matter, for everyone's sake.

-A.

Hiccup just stared down and the letter, feeling his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. The words stung, and he read it twice to make sure she was not actually breaking up with him by dragon mail and he had simply misread it.

As far as he could tell, she still considered their relationship intact, but hanging on by a quickly fraying thread. He supposed, in his absence, she felt she had no other recourse but to issue an ultimatum.

For one week, he was trapped on this political and spiritual trip of which he wanted no part, while his lover sat at home stewing over his supposed faults. He could not fix it. Sneaky was sent away for protection, and he could not respond to Astrid, he could not defend himself.

He was numb, and contemplated instead what he should do with the letter—for what else could reasonably be done, given the circumstances?

Then his father called for him, and he remembered what the itinerary held for next two days before sailing for home. He felt impossibly worse. It was no more likely that he could find some sliver of enjoyment on Helgafell than it was that he could mend his relationship from afar. All the while, he was torn between miserable duty and worrying about a mounting problem waiting for him on Berk. His time was spoken for; he was stuck. For the first time in a while, he felt truly defeated.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet. He put on his cloak before venturing out into the bitter cold, where his father and his breakfast waited for him.

"Everything okay?" Stoick asked, eyeing the parchment clutched tightly in his hand. The man then offered him a bowl of porridge.

With a terse nod, Hiccup dropped the letter into the campfire, watching it curl and burn.

"Everything is just fine."

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #long fic #affairs au

25 notes · View notes

gryffindorkxdraws · 1 year

Note

I saw your post about a Taylor Swift Jackunzel story (and I jumped lol). Can you do "Everything has Changed"? I saw a sun and moon au vid from Hermuna Moon of yt that used that song. I wonder how'd you do a one-shot on that AU! I'm interested on reading the climax of that story where the Sun and Moon finally meet ^^

Song: Everything Has Changed

Word Count: 721

Summary: What would happen when the sun and moon meet?

Notes: i tried my best to follow your request, but i also wanted to make it a little bit different. just a little bit. but i kept in mind of the reunion and this short thing happened. enjoy! also i didn't edit this aha

video anon mentioned here

Rapunzel has heard stories of the Moon. Or rather, the boy who represents the Moon Kingdom. Every night, he would splatter the dark night into the sky and pull out the twinkles of the stars to accompany it. So the children wouldn’t be scared of the dark, she thought to herself, though she’d love to hear the boy’s own thoughts on it.

What he did was in contrast to hers. Where she represented the Sun Kingdom and threw the light back into the sky. A way to wake nature up and greet the day with a brand new tomorrow. So everyone gets energized to live their life, she giggled to herself, but, again, she’d like to know what the boy thought of it. Of her.

She’s heard so many stories of the boy that she felt like she already knew him. Met him even though they’ve yet to cross paths. It was like her mind had latched onto him, onto this moon boy, and didn’t want to let go. Always needing to be fed with any information she could get of him. She wondered then if the boy ever got curious about her.

Rapunzel snapped out of her thoughts when a rabbit hopped along the field. The sunset over the horizon was beautiful, but sad at the same time. It reminded her that her day time was almost up. But instead of slowly disappearing back into the Sun Kingdom like she normally would, she stayed. She stayed.

Questions undoubtedly ran through her mind as night slowly took over, but her guts told her to start running instead. So she did. Across the field as fast as she could. Towards what? Towards who? She didn’t know. At least until she saw someone running from the other end of the field. A boy with such striking white hair, and eyes so blue she felt she could fly in its hue.

The boy.

Jack.

The boy was Jack all along? Rapunzel held her breath, unable to bring herself to believe it at first.

With just one look at each other, a thousand memories flooded in their head. The very memories they both kept hidden in the dark because their people have told them it was useless to dwell in the past. Once, they were simply a shepherd boy and a princess of the Corona Kingdom from long ago. A shepherd boy and a princess who broke traditions together with their friendship. A friendship that should have lasted a lifetime, but was cut short when the boy drowned in the lake.

And now, here they were.

Both Rapunzel and Jack took a step forward, then another, before immediately making a run for it towards each other. Rapunzel could feel the pull of the Sun Kingdom now, and like hell was she going to disappear before she could reach him. In their last few steps, Rapunzel leaped forward with a yell, her heart bursting at the seams with how full it was from reaching him.

Years and years of mourning for Jack gave her this unnameable weight on her shoulders, and now she felt free of it from this very moment. Jack, on the other hand, thought she had long passed as a human, and to suddenly see her here made his heart full. Of life, of love, of everything he’s ever wished for if given one more chance.

"Jack!"

"Rapunzel!"

The two crashed into each other, their worlds finally, finally colliding, and Jack didn’t want to let her go. Not when he finally has her in his arms. Though he fell backwards from catching her and the two rolled on the field, laughing and crying and everything in between. Until Jack noticed she was fading when she pinned him down.

“I’ll find you again, I promise.” Rapunzel whispered, holding his face with both hands.

“Not if I find you first.” Jack whispered back, smirking as a way to make her smile, and she did.

He sat up and held her close before pulling her in for one more hug, breathing her in like she smelled of sunshine and flowers (she did). As Rapunzel slowly faded away just as the sunset was closing in on fully setting for the night sky to take over, the two made promises to find a way to meet once more.

#jackunzel #jack frost and rapunzel #rise of the brave tangled dragon #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #jack frost #rapunzel corona #my writing #answered #anon

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oscurolena · 1 year

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Welcome to Aurora Bay, [SELENA VALDES]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [PRISCILLA QUINTANA]. You must be the [TWENTY-NINE] year old [BARTENDER AT GOLDEN HOUR LOUNGE]. Word is you’re [RESILIENT] but can also be a bit [STUBBORN] and your favorite song is [WOULD'VE COULD'VE SHOULD'VE BY TAYLOR SWIFT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

CHARACTER BASICS

NAME: selena valdes NICKNAME: lena AGE: twenty-nine DATE OF BIRTH: september 29, 1993 ZODIAC SIGN: libra GENDER & PRONOUNS: cisfemale, she/her ORIENTATION: bisexual STATUS: single HEIGHT: 5′2″ OCCUPATION: bartender at golden hour lounge NEIGHBORHOOD: seabrook quarter

QUICK FACTS

selena valdes was born out of an affair her mother, an up and coming model who had to cut her career short, had with a wealthy married man. growing up, selena never really had a proper father figure. although her father made sure that she and her mother lived a comfortable life, he felt more of a benefactor to her rather than a real father. she never really met him as an adult, but she had some vague memories of him when she was younger--though she wasn't exactly sure if they were real or if she just conjured them in her mind. besides, only a handful of people knew about her existence since her father wanted to keep mum about what happened.

lena didn't exactly hold resentment towards her father since she didn't know him well enough for that. her mother made it clear to her that it's just how the world works and she just accepted it at that time. nonetheless, she lived a comfortable life growing up and her mother cared for her as best as she could in the way she knew how to.

however, her mother also wanted that affection, so she kept on seeing different guys and none of them really lasted that long in their lives. that was the tiring part, meeting new people--thinking she'll finally have the family she always wanted, but just always getting disappointed in the end.

when she was in her second year in college and working part time in a coffee shop, she met someone who's quite older than her, but the two hit it off quickly. they simply clicked and lena fell hard for them. they were not her first love, but they were the one that left a permanent mark on her. everything seemed great at first and their relationship lasted for more than a year until everything fell apart. she found out that they were married and the last thing she wanted was to be just like her mother. lena broke it off between the two of them and cut all ties with them.

after them, lena became more evasive with romance and chose to date without truly committing to the other person. they've completely destroyed her ability to trust other people and she became more closed off. she's a huge flirt, but she rarely catches feelings. more often than not, she chooses to see the worst in people to make sure that she wouldn't get hurt by them.

lena has a degree in business management, but she cannot commit to just one job either. she's always quitting and looking for another job since they easily bore her.

a few months ago, someone contacted her and told her that he was her half-brother. it sounded like a scam at first, but google did its work and it turned out to be true, so she decided to come and visit them at aurora bay. but after being enchanted by the place, she decided to move here for now. currently, she's been residing in aurora bay for 3 months and found a job as a bartender at the golden hour lounge.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

her ex lover (39+)

regular customers at the bar

acquaintances or friends

frenemies

someone who has odd jobs for her to do?

yoga/gym buddies since

tinder matches

one night stands

ex fling

potential romantic interest?

will they won't they

anything else you'd be up to tbh. if u wanna plot with her, just give this a like and i'll dm you <3

#aurorabay.intro #tw: cheating

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ventaccounts · 1 year

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First Love

acceptance.

this is about the boy I had a childhood crush on and eventually fell in love with. Things were short lived and I always blamed the way I looked for how things went. I met another boy 6 months after I was heartbroken and he helped me heal even though we were never official. Then things ended badly with him. So here I am post both of them. And I feel okay. As someone who is conventionally unattractive I’ve always thought the worst thing to happen to me is the face I was born with. But it’s not. Heartbreak is normal, whether you look like me or Megan Fox.

so my ode to the boy I loved first. I will always feel something for him. Something I failed to truly express when I had the chance. And now as High School comes to its final bow I think I’m okay with that. You were something that part of me fears I’ll never find again. But life is long and so is love.

this is dramatic :) sorry sometimes I get carried away and think I’m Taylor Swift or something.

#daily poem #romance quotes #romance #i love him #love #first love #over it

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candle-wax-and-polariods · 4 months

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back when jack dropped the bomb that is the YLM writting and recording date i went through and analyzed every album rep back to get a time line, and im done gate keeping so here we go and bc marrige gets brought up before i get lavender haze comments, wanting to be someones end game legit means wanting to marry them and i am interpreting the lyrics that seem to be abt wanting marriage as such, that isnt bad especially when your analyzing writing, also this took very long

and then the time line i drew is like illegable bc its so tinny so heres how it goes, this is a timeline of everything from taylor and joe meeting to the YLM streaming date

-2016 met gala

-snakegate, relashionship offically begins

-november 2016

-social media black out and snake videos (8/23/17 23/8/17 for non americans)

-rep anounced (8/23/17)

-LWYMMD relased (8/24/17)

-LWYMMD video premier at vma’s (8/27/17)

-ready for it and gorgeous relased (cant get concreate dates off taylors IG)

-call it what you want (11/3/17?)

- rep album drop (11/10/17)

-2017 jingle bell ball

-rep tour anounced (12/13/17?)

-swift life app released (12/16/17)

- end game music video (1/18/17

- delicate music video (3/11/18)

-better man at the blue bird cafe (4/1/18?)

-rep tour begins (5/8/18)

- post abt delicate being no1 on pop radio (7/22/17)

-last us rep tour show (10/6/18)

-disco ball dress (10/9/18)

-offical label change announcement (11/19/18)

-last rep tour show (11/21/18)

-rep tour film release (12/21/18)

-ME! release (4/26/18)

-wango tango 2019

-lover announcement/ masters post (6/13/19)

-YNTCD video released (6/17/19)

-drunk taylor party

-lover music video and album relased

-2019 vmas

-lover in paris show

-lover fest anounced (9/17/19)

-christmas tree farm (12/6/19)

-miss americana anounced (1/15/20)

-miss americana release (1/31/20)

-2020 NME awards

-the man music video (2/27/20)

-covid lock down begins in america

-folklore grid and announcement (7/23/20)

-folklore album and cardagin music video release (7/24/20)

-Folklore LPSS anounced (11/24/20)

-folklore lpss on disney+ (11/25/20)

- evermore grid and announcement (12/10/20)

- evermore album and willow music video released (12/11/20)

- fearless TV anounced (2/11/20)

-love story TV (2/12/20)

- 2021 grammys

- YAOMTVFTV (cannot get concrete date)

- fearless TV vault (4/2/21)

-fearless tv released (4/9/21)

- evermore on vinyl (5/28/21)

-red tv anounced (6/18/21)

-the lake’s original version (7/24/21)

-red tv vault (8/5/21)

-ATW short dil and red tv release (11/12/21)

-IBYTAM music video (11/15/21)

-your losing me is written and recorded (12/5/21)

- this love TV (5/6/22)

-midnights anounced at vmas (8/29/22?)

-midnights released with anti hero music video (10/21/22)

-3am edition released (10/22/22)

-bejweled music video (10/25/22)

-eras tour anouned (11/1/22)

-lavender haze music video (1/27/23)

-eras tour begins (3/17/23)

- break up hits media

-speak now TV anounced (5/5/23)

-karma ft ice spice music video (5/25/23)

-YLM cd (???)

-speak now tv track list (6/5/23)

-ICSY music video (7/8/23?)

-1989 TV anouncement (8/9/23)

-1989 TV vault for “slvt!” (9/19/23)

-eras tour film anounced (9/26/23)

-eras tour premier day (10/11/23)

-cruel summer live version (10/18/23)

-1989 TV relased (10/27/23)

- your losing me on streaming and jacks attomic bomb on us (11/29/23)

#this took way too long #1989 taylor's version #swifties #taylors version #taylornation #taylorstans #i love you taylor #taylor swift #taylurking

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perryvonvicious · 5 months

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Annual End-of-Year Survey (2023!)

1. How did you ring in the new year for 2023?

I was probably asleep. Otherwise, I likely wished my wife a Happy New Year, as we would have been just sitting in the living room, doing nothing.

2. Who did you kiss at midnight/your first kiss in 2023?

My wife.

3. What did you do in 2023 that you'd never done before?:

Wrestled in Japan.

4. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't make new year's resolutions.

5. Did anyone close to you give birth?:

No.

6. Did anyone close to you die?:

Tommy Smothers.

7. What places did you visit?:

Disneyland, and Japan,

8. What would you like to have in 2024 that you lacked in 2023?:

A tan.

9. What dates from 2023 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?:

Not a specific date, as I’m not good at remembering those, but Fall of 2023: My first time traveling to, and wrestling in, Japan!

10. What was your biggest achievement of the year?:

I went on a 3-month tour, wrestling in Japan.

11. What was your biggest failure?:

I didn’t make it to Tokyo Disneyland.

12. Did you suffer illness or injury?:

Many little injuries while training in Japan.

13. What was the best thing you bought?:

A second resin printer. I can’t recall many other purchases.

14. Whose events required celebration?:

I don’t know.

15. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?:

A few of my former coworkers.

16. Where did most of your money go?:

House projects.

17. What did you get really, really, really excited about?:

Wrestling in Japan.

18. What song will always remind you of 2023?:

Jushin Liger’s entrance theme.

Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) Happier or sadder?: Happier.

b) Thinner or fatter?: Thinner.

c) Richer or poorer?: Same-ish?

19. What do you wish you'd done more of?:

I don’t know. I felt like I did pretty good this year.

20. What do you wish you'd done less of?:

Stressing.

21. Did you fall in love in 2023?:

I fell in love in 2007.

22. How many one-night stands?:

Zero.

23. How many people did you kiss?

My wife.

24. What was your favorite TV program?:

YouTube.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?:

I don't think so.

26. What was the best book you read?:

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (and its sequel: A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor) by Hank Green

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?:

I can’t think of any.

28. What did you want and get?:

A contract to wrestle in Japan.

29. What did you want and not get?:

Mental stability.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?:

I turned 39. I do not recall what I did..

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?:

Can’t think of much. I enjoyed this year.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2023?:

Gym shorts and t-shirts/tank tops.

34. What kept you sane?:

Nothing.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?:

Adam Savage and/or Taylor Swift

36. What political issue stirred you the most?:

Probably a few, but I'm not interested in discussing that.

37. Who do you miss?:

I missed my wife while I was in Japan. Now I miss my Japanese friends. [shrug]

38. Who was the best new person you met?:

Everyone in Japan. The wrestlers, the fans, the company staff… everyone. I miss my little number 1 fan Nina, as well as a nice fan I met named Mayu.

39. Who were your closest friends in 2023?

In no particular order: Torres, Rip, Delmi, Levi, Anton, Jet Wei, Kodai.

40. What are you doing to ring in 2024?

I’m wrestling on NYE, but by midnight I’ll be home, relaxing with my wife.

41. Who do you plan on kissing to ring in 2024?

My wife.

42. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2023:

If you’re tenacious, eventually the world will bend to your will.

0 notes

themylinh · 1 year

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Hi, my name is My Linh. “My” is my grandpa’s name, and the “Linh” following it comes from a Vietnamese singer’s name. I was once 15, when I started this page, but now I am in the middle of my 19. But I haven’t changed much inside because I fought hard for that.

I love reading things that I can relate with, and writing things that others can reflect on. I am not good at talking. Since I started thinking more than I once did, I have been pausing a lot while talking and normally not talking at all, just listen most of the time. However, if someone is willing to listen and care, I would give them a talk of biographical length about what I’ve been thinking since the previous time I got to say that much.

I don’t like traveling, but I like surprising occasions when I have to travel and end up being mesmerized by new memories, as they are slowly getting old.

I LOVE TAYLOR SWIFT because her songs are super relatable and I’ve been listening to her music since I was a short chubby child. She is like a second big sister I’ve never had. Though I love my real sister, she is also inspirational to me. My favorite Taylor’s album is “folklore”. But I am more like into my “Midnights” era.

I have to past loves. The first one is a high school sweetheart and we loved each other in secrecy. It cost me more than 2 years to move on from that “Jenny-Han-ese” short-lived affair, but I managed to give him back a present box that he refused to receive the last time we met and became friends.

Right after that I met the next main guy. He was tall and knew how to make my heart skip its beat with his fake low-toned voice. And his character was bold enough to be impressed by me dressing up in red for our first overnight out and dancing with him in the middle of nowhere at 2-3am. Later on he became a bartender, but he couldn’t make me drunk in love anymore. Damn it! Although he did me wrong, I have no regret of fighting for the love that we had nurtured together when he still wanted me. Whatever’s happened, that love story did include the most exciting teenage sneaking out and college moving out that anyone could ever wish for. I was the heroine of a real life rom-com!

I am currently working as a Content Writer, I write everything people ask me to, such as food, movies, the weather and their memories. The jobs provide me with a sufficient amount of money to afford the studio apartment that I am living in. Sometimes I get very busy but I am still cool enough to play the guitars and play chess alone, among the fresh flowers that I bought.

I love plants and flowers. I think the most tragic thing that could make me cry at the moment is my plant dying or something. But I am trying every bit to save it, I rotate it under the sunlight and give it comfort words each time I pass by. I hope that helps. It’s not watering dead and dried flowers, which I also do.

I have few friends, but they are pretty close. Close enough to be far away when I need some space to digest my sudden surges of intense emotions that we know I need time to calm down. Sometimes, one of them show up and have a sleepover, which I am super obsessed with.

I love taking photos and videos of small things that I notice in the surrounding. I love it when I could recognize and admire those tiny little beauties because I consider that a certification of my peace-in-mind.

I love cats. Dogs are okay.

I am currently single, and despite the fact that I feel lonely in the afternoons and there are some decent guys are waiting in line, I am not ready for a relationship. I have this strong belief that this time is for me exploring and taking care of myself after being hurt. But I know that I will meet someone, I’ve not yet moved to another country so I’ve barely met most of the people I would meet in my life. I think I will be attracted to someone with calmness and stability, of course, he should be well-prepared for my Swiftie obsession.

And although I feel controversial with myself, I don’t hate her.

0 notes

tothemeadow · 3 years

Note

Can I request a uzui x shy reader where reader is his fourth wife but she feels left out a lot so she distance and avoid Tengen and her co-wives. When reader comes home one day she surprised to find uzui home by himself because he was meant to be out with the others and she was going to try avoid him again but as he wants an answer to why shes acting the way she is and turns into a smut in the end? :>

Did I get carried away with this? Maybe. Could I have written more? Absolutely. But I have to practice self-control.

‘i want to be part of your constellation’ / Uzui T. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, cunnilingus, Tengen’s fat tiddies

words: 2,492

Sometimes, being a Pillar’s wife is hard. They’re constantly away, fighting battles and saving lives; there’s always that lingering chance that they may never come back. It’s a dangerous life, but a respectful one nonetheless.

This is what drew you to Tengen in the first place – despite his brash, asshole attitude, he’s selfless. It was during an attack at your parents’ farm when you first met him; appearing like a night in shining armor, he rescued you from a bloodhungry demon, his movements powerful yet graceful all at once. As a thank you, your parents offered your hand in marriage to the handsome stranger. Surprisingly, Tengen agreed, but it wasn’t like you were going to deny marrying someone of his status and exquisite looks.

However, you didn’t know about the other women in Tengen’s life. As you quickly found out, he had three other wives, all of who he met while in the shinobi forces. Of course, you weren’t a fighter like them, nor did you have that close relationship from sharing the same background. No, you were the docile one of the group, the one meant to take care of the home while the others went to fight demons and the like.

Even two years later, things haven’t changed. You love Tengen, and the other girls are basically your best friends, but the chasm separating you from them couldn’t be more evident. Sure, you’re part of the “family,” but it doesn’t necessarily feel like it. You’re the quiet one, the one that keeps to themselves, the one who’s in charge of a happy homelife. And so you distance yourself from everyone else, stick to the sidelines while they’re out saving the world.

Granted, you’re used to this lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. If only you’d been a shinobi or a slayer, things would be different. You’d know what the life is like, the feel of a blade as it passes through a demon’s neck. But no, you’re always stuck with carrying a pouch of wisteria on your body to keep yourself safe. At this point, you don’t whether Tengen makes you keep it because he wants you to be safe or because he views it as his obligation.

With a sigh, you turn towards the sky, the endless blue a clear difference to your bitter gray mood. The tote hanging from your shoulder is heavy with fruits and vegetables from the market, but you’re excited with the possibilities of all the tasty meals you could create. Even though you can’t fight to save others, you can feed them; you also know for a fact that you’re the best cook among you co-wives.

When you return home, you slip off your setta and pause, listening to the familiar silence. Like usual, the others are away, most likely fighting off some lowly criminal or preparing for a battle against a demon. Either way, it seems like you’re going to be spending the majority of the day by yourself. It’s sad that this is what life has come to; when you first married Tengen, you were hoping for more excitement, not lonely thoughts. You don’t want to come off desperate, though, so you continue to remain to yourself. At the end of the day, it’s not that big of a deal – that’s just life.

Wandering towards the kitchen, you become caught up in these thoughts, these negative feelings. You don’t want to make yourself cry – you really don’t – but your heart is saying otherwise. All you want is to belong. You want to mean something to this family, not be the impromptu mother waiting for her rambunctious children to come home. You become so lost in your head that you fail to see him standing in the kitchen, lips wrapped around a ceramic cup.

Coming to sudden stop at the threshold, your attention jumps back to the present. Tengen merely sends you an amused look over the rim of his cup before he knocks his head back and empties its contents. Why is he here? Shouldn’t he be with the others? He said he wasn’t going to home for a while! Did something happen? Are the others okay? Why-?

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Tengen teases. “Stop thinking so much.”

Huffing, you step into the kitchen, drawing the tote off your shoulder and setting it down. “You surprised me, that’s all. I thought you were busy.”

“What, am I not allowed in my own home? That’s kind of cruel, don’t you think?” The smirk he flashes you sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“I never said that,” you hastily respond. Your eyes scan over his Corps uniform. You’re quickly finding yourself feel bad for taking up his time when he’s bound to be busy; Pillars have the toughest jobs of them all, and every single moment is precious. “You’re usually never this home early,” you mutter. A sigh slips through your lips. “…I should… uh, I need to do laundry.” You despise how pathetic you sound, but the knowing look in Tengen’s eyes is making your nerves go haywire.

Stepping away, you prepare yourself to leave, but Tengen moves way too fast for your eye to catch. Before you’re out the door, his hand is around your wrist, spinning your around and tugging him towards his chest. You yelp as you collide with solid muscle; wrapping his meaty arms around you, Tengen holds you close, his nose buried in your hair.

“Don’t act like I haven’t noticed you moping around more than usual,” he mutters. Pressed to him like this, you can hear his heart thumping steadily in his chest. “It’s not flamboyant of me to ignore what’s bothering you.”

“Tengen-“

“Let me finish,” he interrupts, but his voice is soft. “I want you to be honest with me. Are you lonely?”

At that, your heart drops to your stomach. You haven’t been that obvious, have you? Jaw falling agape, you’re desperate for words, to tell him no, you’re fine, but nothing wants to come out. Tengen releases a sorrowful sigh and pulls away just enough so that you two are looking eye-to-eye. He’s always been huge, standing tall and broad; in moments like these, the sheer size of him is more than intimidating. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon.

“Idiot,” he mumbles. Your face scrunches up when he flicks your forehead. “I shouldn’t have to confront you about something like this.”

You pout up at him. “It’s just… I’m not like you guys,” you confess. “I can’t fight, I can’t defend myself… All I’m good at is being a homemaker.” You drop your gaze to his chest. Now that you’re finally getting everything off your chest, all the pent of thoughts and feelings begin to gush out. “I feel like an outsider most of the time. You and the other girls are always running around together and doing amazing things. All I do is sit around and do chores. I can’t…” Biting your lip, you squeeze your eyes shut. Now is not the time to be crying. If you want things to change, you have to remain strong, not burst into tears.

A hand cups your face, then, lifting your head so that you’re forced to look at Tengen. “Be quiet. So what if you’re not a fighter? That doesn’t make you any less flamboyant.” His thumb brushes over your cheek. “You’re the one I can rely on to be here when I need someone. You always get this dumb smile on your face whenever I come home from a mission.” Dropping his head down, he presses his forehead to yours. “I know you’re safe here… Do you have any idea how scared I would be if you were out in the field with us? You’re important to me, baby. When I’m not here, you’re on my mind constantly.”

Your heartbeat quickens. You can’t deny the genuine glint in his dazzling eyes, the slight curl to his lips.

“In fact,” Tengen continues, pulling away entirely. In a swift movement, his large hands are clutching your thighs, raising you up and swinging you around; you let out a surprised squeak as he places you on the table and presses his large body between your legs. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve always been so soft, so sweet…” His warm breath fans over your face, making you swallow thickly. “And you’re so small. I’ve got to keep someone like you under protection, don’t you think?”

Before you really have the chance to say anything, Tengen swoops in, his mouth seeking out yours. He’s always been such a bold kisser, sweeping his tongue into your mouth with no hesitation whatsoever. He tastes like wine, so rich and delectable, and his tongue is so warm, so inviting. Your head is spinning, your breaths leaving in short gasps. His hands are all over you; gripping your hair, trailing down your back, sneaking underneath your yukata-

A groan bursts from your throat as he fondles your breasts, the pads of his fingers rolling the hardened nipples and pulling them. Tengen curses as he breaks the kiss, the lightest of blushes on his face. He bites his plump lower lip as he shamelessly plays with you, his pupils blown wide. His hips press in close, his groin bumping into yours; he’s already hard, deliciously so, and your mind goes entirely blank. You want nothing more than his cock to slide in, to absolutely tear you apart.

“You feel that, baby?” Tengen husks. “Don’t think your unimportant to me. You’re so fucking sexy, so flamboyant…” His tongue darts out, sweeps over his lips. “Let me make it up to you. You won’t feel lonely anymore, got it?”

Furiously nodding your head, you allow Tengen to yank open your yukata, revealing soft skin. Your eyelids flutter as he places his mouth to the exposed flesh, his lips and tongue equally hot. Chest rising frantically beneath his touch, you grip onto him for support as he kisses your breasts, his tongue dragging across your nipples. You keen as he promptly sucks it into his mouth, his teeth sinking down lightly as his hands unceremoniously rip your underwear from your trembling form.

“Oh, gods, Tengen,” you purr. “Please… Don’t stop…”

“Wouldn’t dream about it,” Tengen drawls. Sinking to his knees, his mouth leaves a wet trail down your body; there’s bound to be marks, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. His mouth feels way too heavenly yet sinful, the pleasured grunts pouring from his lips pure music to your ears. “Give me a taste…”

You cry out when he licks against your slit. In a fit of desperation, your fingers clutch onto the silvery strands of his hair, accidentally loosening it from its ponytail. Tengen groans into your quivering pussy as you yank at his hair, his name leaving your lips in high-pitched whimpers. Any other time, Tengen would play the part of the ultimate tease, but not now. No, he wants to please you, to have you screaming his name and begging for more.

He eats like a man starved, his mouth just ravishing your cunt; the noises coming from in between your legs is nothing short of sinful, leaves your blood boiling. Your velvety walls clench around his protruding tongue, each curl and flick sending delicious shivers up your spine, down to the tips of your fingers and toes. Tengen’s always been a god with his mouth, and it’s no wonder how he has four wives. You try not to think about the other girls too much; it’s quickly turning into a battle that you’re hopelessly losing, but then Tengen moves to suckle on your clit while his fingers replace his tongue.

A sharp cry rips its way out of your chest. It feels so good. “Ah – Tengen – fuck,” you whine. Hearing the pleasured noises from your beautiful lips spurs him on; redoubling his efforts, Tengen grabs onto your hip as his fingers push in even further, finding your soft spot with pin-point precision. You rapidly come undone around his fingers, your walls clenching around him as your slick gushes out. A breathless moan of his name echoes throughout the room.

“Just as sweet as I remember,” Tengen husks. The deep rasp of his voice has you clenching again; with a chuckle, Tengen removes his hand and stands up.

“I want you,” you coo, “please, Tengen. Fuck me.” Reaching out, you hastily undo the top of his uniform, push the articles of clothing down his shoulders under his torso is completely bare. Tengen’s chest practically rumbles with a purr as you drift your hands over the swell of his pecs, the divots of his abs. “So gorgeous,” you murmur. Tengen starts to chuckle again, but it quickly dwindles into pleasured grunts as you squeeze his pectorals and pinch at his pert nipples.

“Shit,” Tengen hisses. His hips buck forward, the hard outline of his cock brushing against your sopping cunt. In quick, fumbling movements, he undoes his belt and drops his hakama low enough so that his cock pops out. You practically drool at the sight; he’s been going around commando all day, and fuck you wish you knew that earlier.

His bulbous head pushes inside, his cock slowly filling you up. The stretch is delicious; you feel so fucking full, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. Clutching onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into the thick cording of muscle, your eyes basically rolling back in your head as Tengen snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding in to the hilt. He pauses for a second, allows you to adjust to his massive size. Once you give him the go ahead, all caution is thrown to the wind.

Your husband in no longer a man, but rather a savage beast. He fucks into you thoroughly, his cock dragging against all your sensitive spots as his cockhead pounds into your cervix. He’s hitting you so deep, stretching you so wide, you’re seeing stars. His lips find your neck while his hands hold you by the ass, keeping you place. You have no choice but to cry out his name, moaning until your throat goes hoarse.

Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he urges you to lie flat on your back. Like this, he presses his palms against the surface of the table and completely concentrates and fucking you into oblivion. It’s working, rightfully so, for your drooling and babbling his name, your nails scratching down his back and leaving angry red trails.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he purrs. “Show you that you’re really mine. I love you, got it? Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Tears flood your vision – whether they’re from pleasure or the new onslaught of emotion, you don’t know. Either way, you cling onto him tighter. You’re not going anywhere, and Tengen makes sure of it.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x reader #kny tengen #request

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