#its just so good with all the betrayal and angst and hidden feelings

[bvrtysbvtches]

the “best friends who had plans of changing the world together but then one of them betrayed the other and now they’re on opposite sides and the one who betrayed the other is now morally grey and kills people but they still can’t bring themselves to kill the other because deep down they’re still in love with them” trope>>>>

#bonus points if they're both the leaders of their opposing sides #and if they were childhood friends #victor vale #eli ever #eli cardale #evervale #vicious #vengeful #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #grindeldore #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik #its just so good with all the betrayal and angst and hidden feelings #also dont know if this applies to them but i ship them so #atlas blakely #ezra fowler #the atlas six #albus x gellert #victor x eli #charles x erik #atlas x ezra

[sayafics]

Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter III

I apologise for the very long wait for this chapter, in all honesty I had no idea how to move forward from Chapter II but this felt right, and it felt true to the relationship between existing characters, to an extent.

Geralt is tied to these two women in two distinctly different ways, and it's only now that he has all the information, he can make the decision he needs to. But that doesn't come without its consequences, which subsequently leads to other consequences.

I apologise again for the long wait, and hope to update with another chapter soon! I truly hope you guys enjoy this chapter! <333

TW: (slight?) angst

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Masterlist

Andromeda had thought they had come to an understanding. She had fallen asleep with a smile on her face and hope in her heart.

She dreamed of waking up to the sun heating her face as it slowly rose, opening her eyes to ashes of a well-worn fire as a gentle breeze brushed through her hair before her gaze met Geralt's.

She thought they would've exchanged gentle smiles, would've looked for excuses throughout the day to brush past each other, and engaged in small conversations hidden from the sight of others. And then, maybe when they had gotten too distracted or brushed too close to death on one adventure or the next, they would've exchanged a kiss. A small, hesitant kiss that they poured all their emotions into, where they succumbed to their desires and the strings of destiny.

Instead, she had awoken to burning lips and a quivering heart. She knew. The moment the feeling spread over her, she knew.

Andromeda couldn't open her eyes in fear of what she would find.

Geralt and Yennefer locked in a battle of passion? The two carressing each other in gentle affection?

She feared she would find a liar and a coward in the place where she had seen her Geralt in the glowing embers of last night's fire.

But she couldn't escape his senses.

Unbeknownst to her, as she curled in on herself, eyes clenched shut as tears welled in her eyes, and she pretended to sleep as she stifled her laboured breaths, Geralt knew she was awake. And he knew she felt his betrayal just like she had every other time.

His soul roiled in its place, his heart burned in guilt. It was not what it seemed.

***

Yennefer had woken up before the rest had, before the sun had risen and its warmth had replaced what was lost as the campfire died out.

Geralt waited for her to say something as she sat up, to say 'good morning' or to say she would take watch instead, but she simply sat and stared.

He lost his patience quite quickly, feeling the way her stare burned into the side of his head as he forced his gaze away from Rory and onto her instead.

She looked amused.

"What?"

His words were gruff, full of curiosity and annoyance. He knew he had no right to be annoyed. He had pursued Yennefer just as much as she pursued him. But it was different then.

Now, knowing that his Rory felt the same about him as he did about her, knowing she had been longing for him from the day they met, that her heart yearned for him, everything changed.

Andromeda could have ran, every time he had bed another woman, she could have walked away. And even yesterday, she could have turned away without giving him a second glance.

But she was full of compassion and sincerity, and she gave away chances as easily as she gave away her heart. It had just taken him too long to realise it was him she had gifted it to.

Yennefer didn't answer him, instead making her way to her feet as she strutted his way, her movements slow and sensual. She was so sure of herself, so confident she would get what she wanted. And Geralt was scared that, somehow, she would.

She stood behind him, hands on his shoulders as she leaned down and pressed her breasts into his back, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "you look tense. I could help you."

Her voice was low and sultry, and Geralt from a few days ago would have given into her words immediately, but the Geralt that sat in front of her now only grimaced at her words. His shoulders raised as he pulled himself from her embrace, standing to his full height as he turned on her - "no."

"No?" Yennefer was shocked, sure she had seen the looks the two exchanged, the way they smiled at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking, but it had never made Geralt reject her.

"No," Geralt had the knack to look at least somewhat apologetic, his eyes furrowing as he looked down at Yennfer in sympathy, "the circumstances have changed."

"Geralt, you told me that destiny tied us. That destiny wanted us together."

"I was wrong, Yen. Destiny didn't pick you, I did. But I can't keep choosing you anymore."

"Geralt..." her hand came up to rest at his cheek, her eyes pooling with tears as she shook her head in denial, "you love me."

Geralt let her keep her hand on his face, let her take what she needed as he broke the heart of another woman he cared for. He shook his head, "I don't. I love her."

It was a whispered confession, his voice shaky as the truth came out, and Geralt found a weight lift of his chest at the revelation, "I love her," he repeated.

"I'm sorry, Yennefer," she felt her heart break further at the sound of her name on his lips, "I can't love you, I can't pick you."

Yennefer's other hand reached up for his cheek, both now cradling his face as she ran her fingers over familiar lines and scars. She pulled him closer, but he resisted.

"Please, Geralt. Just one more time."

Her voice was desperate, he could smell the defeat permeating off of her, and when he gave in and brushed his lips against her own, he could taste it in her tears too.

The kiss was familiar, it was easy. It was a goodbye.

***

Geralt pulled away from Yennefer, as though her lips against his own had burned him the way it burned Andromeda.

He felt anger festering in the pits of his stomach, he hated himself for giving in so easily, for hurting Rory again.

He wanted to go to her, to plead with her to listen to him and know that it meant nothing to him. That it was a goodbye for Yennefer and not a betrayal to her. That he loves her. He needs her.

But with Yennefer's hands holding his face once more, and Jaskier rousing from his sleep, he had again lost his chance, and perhaps he had now lost her.

***

As they packed their gear, the air was stifled with tension. As Yennefer, Geralt, and Andromeda stayed away from each other, it did not take much guessing from Jaskier and Cirilla to realise what had probably happened.

Cirilla observed her aunt, worry colouring her eyes as she watched her move with no real purpose, her eyes empty as if every ounce of hope and life had been washed out.

Geralt was like a father to Cirilla, she craved his affection and even more his approval. But she knew that Geralt had to be the one responsible for her aunt's state, and she couldn't help the anger that bubbled in her chest as the minutes ticked by and Andromeda lost more of herself to the quiet around her.

Still, no one spoke as they carried on their journey, marching through the barren-land with their rations untouched and their stomachs full of lead.

Cirilla stood next to Andromeda, holding her hand tightly as she kept her aunt close to her side and safe. All the while, she would glare at Geralt every time she noticed his gaze stray towards Andromeda, forcing him to look back at the path ahead as he wiped any essence of emotion from his face.

But every once in a while, his expression would become drowned once more, and he would find himself throwing agonised glances her way.

Cirilla remained unaware of the guilty glances Yennefer threw their way.

***

When they had reached the nearest village, it didn't take long for stories about a nasty group of ghouls at the local cemetery that had been eating dead corpses and unknowing citizens, to spread.

It had gotten so bad that the people of the village they had come across refused to leave their homes after dark. So when they had reached a tavern, after a silent agreement they could all do with some hot food and rest, Geralt found himself agreeing to a large pouch of silver and a long, comfortable stay in the tavern in exchange for slaying the beasts.

He had agreed easily, of course. Needing something to channel his pent-up energy into, the anger and guilt that festered in him and the anguish that settled in his heart every time Andromeda brushed past him like he was not there, every time he tried to speak to her and failed.

Yennefer was still here. She couldn't leave knowing she was why the group had become so broken and frail. Perhaps her leaving would have made it easier for Andromeda to breathe, but it wouldn't lessen the pain Yennefer had caused.

She loves Geralt, and she wants to see him happy. He chose her every time before that day in the tavern, but she knew every time he had picked her there was a part of him that yearned for Andromeda.

She tried to hide from the truth in their moans and sighs, tried to find solace in their pleasurable escapades, tried to make Andromeda jealous, and assert the idea that Geralt was her's.

But he wasn't.

He may have picked Yennefer because of the cards destiny had given him, but Andromeda's name was scrawled across his heart. He needed Andromeda in a way Yennefer could never replace.

A heart-breaking revelation she had slowly been coming to peace with.

She would leave the group in peace, but she wanted to fix her mess first.

***

Darkness had drawn over the sky when Geralt prepared to leave, and as he sheathed his sword Cirilla couldn't find it within herself to plead with him to let her join, as she had done so many times before.

Cirilla couldn't leave Andromeda, couldn't pick Geralt over her.

Andromeda may not have been her blood, but she was the only family Cirilla had left from the life she lived before.

Geralt didn't try and push Cirilla to join. He didn't ask Jaskier to play bait, knowing he was disappointed in him, too. And he couldn't look towards Yennefer, fearful that one glance would confirm every terrified thought Andromeda had running through her head.

He had smelt the stench of agony on her. It was heavy and brittle and still so sweet in a way that was perfect for her. She was beautiful even when she was in pain.

He took one last glance towards his ragged group of friends, a longing gaze marked for the woman who had stolen his heart and burned her presence into his soul. He lowered his head in shame, gruffly clearing his throat as he spoke, "you should all get some rest. Don't wait for me."

He walked out, his form much more quainter than any of them had seen it before.

A few moments of silence had passed, and then it looked like Yennefer was going to speak.

But Andromeda beat her to it, sensing the conversation looming ahead she pushed herself up from her seat, "I'm going to my room."

She didn't wait for any reply, walking sluggishly to her room as her thoughts threatened to drown her.

Some distance away, Geralt circled the cemetery he entered, waiting for movement. Nothing came.

He needed bait, but there was no one around but himself. So he pulled his small dagger, pressing the knife into his hand and dragging a cut across his palm.

Replacing the dagger, he squeezed his hand closed, relishing in the pain as blood dripped into the soil beneath his feet.

He waited a breath, and then he heard it. Soft growling from all around him as the beasts scuttled in a frenzy.

He waited for them to attack, always on the move, and he pushed them back with his sword and sigils. He had fought enough ghouls to battle them with ease, waiting for one to separate from the group, snarling loud in rage as it got ready to attack, making it a priority to kill before repeating.

Geralt continued his dance, never giving the ghouls a long enough break to catch him off guard and never working too hard to break a sweat. One by one, he hacked down each monster until he was the only beast left standing.

The butchered corpses of seven ghouls laid at his feet, satisfaction filling his gut as he considered his work. He raised his head to the sky, taking in the darkness as he realised not much time would have passed since he left, but there also wasn't long until sunrise.

Geralt couldn't stand having to go back in and face his companions, a part of him was even scared to.

Scared they would leave him for his transgressions, hate him, and abandon him just like his mother had once done.

His heart sank to his stomach, never had he felt such emotions, strong enough to rock him back and forth between the idea of running away or facing his problems head on.

He didn't know what to do.

Until he did.

It was still night, and Andromeda hated the dark. So it would be unlikely she was asleep.

Perhaps she was stargazing, a hobby she was so fond of. Geralt recalls the way her eyes glittered as she peered at the starlight, the way she emanated joy and delight as she pointed out constellations and spoke of the legends and fables behind them, how her heart raced when her eyes found his and her eyes would track his face as though she had found her favourite constellation in him.

He needed to find her. He needed to see her and speak to her and explain.

Maybe it wouldn't help, maybe it would make her hate him more. But the weight of such a confession sat unbearable on his shoulders, he needed her to know.

To know why he kissed Yennefer, to know of his guilt and of his sorrow. But mostly, to know of his truth.

Geralt could no longer hide behind cowardice - a truth badly disguised as indifference and intimidation.

Geralt found his steps hurrying back to the tavern, his footfalls heavy as he forced himself not to take off in a sprint. He pushed and pushed until he found himself at the tavern doors, never taking a breath to stop as he pushed through, tearing past a silent trio huddled by a fire and finding his way to the room he knew Andromeda would be in.

Faintly he hears Jaskier exclaim from his place by the fire, "fucking, finally!" And he feels a ghost of a smile stretch across his face.

A smile that sinks when he finds himself face-to-face with the door that separated him and the woman he had given his heart to, years before he had even realised.

Geralt wasn't sure if he should knock or barge in like he had done at the other tavern not so long ago. He wasn't sure if he should call out to her or simply get onto his knees and beg from outside.

His hand rested on the doorknob, steady and gentle as he twisted the door and creaked it open, "Rory?"

His voice was quiet, a hopeful whisper that was left unanswered.

As the door opened wider, Geralt could feel his heart sink at the realisation of what he had missed on his wild dash here. Something he should have realised miles before he had even reached the tavern once more.

He couldn't smell her sweet, sickly scent, the absence of orange blossoms and jasmine weighing heavy in his heart.

He couldn't hear her quiet breathing as she drowned herself in her imagination or her ragged breaths as she tried to hold back tears.

He couldn't hear the rustle of fabric as she fidgeted and picked at the loose strings in her clothes, or the sound of her comb brushing through her hair, or her huffs of boredom, or groans of irritations. Nothing.

Geralt could no longer hear the sound of her heartbeat.

He pushed open the door, his mind almost out of control as his actions became desperate. The room was bare, even of Andromeda's belongings and opposite him sat a lonely window, its sheer curtain billowing in the winds.

Rory had left. And it was all his fault.

Geralt's eyes burned, but he no longer had the strength to hold back his tears and let them fall freely down his face.

He walked the rest of the way in the room, sitting down heavily on the bed and basking in the faint smell of orange blossoms that surrounded him, and hidden between them was a scent he recognised as determination.

Geralt looked down at his hands, bloodied and destroyed, and found himself imagining a life where he hadn't lost Andromeda to his stupid mistakes.

He would fix this. He had to.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit @pookiesnatcher @starlightaurorab

#geralt x oc #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivia #geralt of river x reader #geralt x ofc #geralt x you #the witcher #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 2, Chapter 19

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 2

Chapter 19

Matt crept into the church basement as the congregation upstairs were finishing the first hymn. 

He removed his mask and walked slowly through the cold, dusty crypt as the muffled voices above his head sang out to God. He ran his gloved hand down the wing of one of the angel statues, then sat on the stone steps and made the sign of the cross.

It was Christmas Eve, and he was here for midnight mass.

He bowed his head and listened as the song finished and the priest started the service, his voice carrying an echo from the vaulted ceilings of the church.

“Grace, mercy and peace

from God our Father

and the Lord Jesus Christ

be with you”

“And also with you,” Matt murmured automatically, the response a reflex after so many years.

It wasn’t the first time he’d attended a service from the shadows, hidden away from the other parishioners. He preferred it this way. His faith was a private thing. A personal thing, that didn’t rely on community and shared worship.

All he’d ever needed was a quiet, hallowed space like this…and the counsel of his priest.

Who was gone now.

It had been more than six months since Father Lantom had been murdered, and Matt still felt the loss acutely. Especially tonight. He was feeling more than a little despondent, and could have used the older man’s guidance.

They hadn’t made a single bit of headway on the pheromone case. And the lack of progress with that was stalling any and all attempts to mount an appeal for Margaret Posen. Matt was reduced to witnessing the effects of the drug from the sidelines again, with no leads to follow and no way to stop its spread. Every night spent out on the streets was an exercise in futility…and it was eating away at him. Chipping away at his resilience and weakening any sense of hope that he could make a difference in this city.

And he missed Calina.

God, he missed her so much.

It had been almost three weeks since he’d last seen her. Three weeks since that single ring of the burner phone had let him know she was okay. And despite his best attempts to carry on with his life and put a brave face on for Karen and Foggy, her absence was a dark pit inside him that was growing with every day.

If he had Calina to come home to every night, he could cope with the lack of progress on the investigation. If he had leads to follow on the case, they would keep him busy enough to distract him from her loss.

But he had neither. Nothing in his life was working. And it made him feel like complete and utter shit.

He dropped his head in his hands and groaned at the sound of the buoyant carol being sung above his head. 

Coming here had been a mistake.

“Someone’s full of festive cheer I see.”

Matt huffed out a laugh at the unexpected sarcasm. “Hi, Maggie.”

The sound of sensible flat shoes tapped down the stone steps as she came closer. And when she took a seat next to him, she lay a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Matthew.”

“How’d you know I’d be down here.”

“Just a hunch.”

Matt sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve not been around much.”

She shrugged. “I took it as a good sign. The last time you were here you asked if I’d take over the role of guiding you from Father Lantom. The fact that you never came…I hoped it meant that you didn’t need any help.”

He had needed help. Many times over the past six months, but he’d never reached out to her. And he suddenly realised that the same affliction that had stopped him from accepting his feelings for Calina, had prevented him from forming a relationship with Maggie.

He hadn’t wanted to get close to her, in case he lost her too.

But Calina had torn down that wall guarding his heart…so maybe it was time he let Maggie in.

“I’m still sorry,” he said.

“So, how have things been going.”

Matt laughed again, the sound even more bitter and humourless.

“That good, huh?” she responded.

Matt fiddled with the mask he still held in his hands, unsure how to start. “Do you remember what else we talked about, the last time I was here? About God’s tapestry?”

“Yes. You described how we mere mortals can only see the back of it, with all the tanged threads and muddy colours. His beautiful plan is hidden from us.”

“Well, my little section of that tapestry is even more tangled and muddied than ever. And I really can’t see how it could possibly make sense from the other side.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “You fear that God’s plan for you is more than you can cope with.”

“More like…I’m wondering why his plan always involves having to cope. Why can’t my life be something to enjoy, rather than endure?”

Losing his sight. Losing his father. Stick and Elektra’s betrayal. Their deaths. Even Maggie and Father Lantom’s lies. His failures as Daredevil, all the injuries and the pain…it was a lifetime of tragedies and crucibles to endure, with only brief respites of happiness.

Like the happiness he’d found with Calina. The happiness that had been ripped away. 

“You never ask the easy questions, do you?”

Matt smiled and shook his head. “Forget it. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Blame the holidays.”

“There’s a reason why people find this time of year difficult,” Maggie said in her calm and measured way. “When you’re dislocated from all the joy and cheer, loneliness and despair can be amplified. But you need to ignore the superficial trappings of the holiday, and look for the meaning behind Christ’s birth and why we celebrate it.”

“Which is?”

“Hope.” She nudged her shoulder against his. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Matt recognised the passage. “John 1:5.”

“Very good. Jesus was born, and brought light into a dark world. He was a beacon of hope for our salvation, and that is why we celebrate. The darkness will not overcome you, Matthew. You shine too brightly. And I have hope - no, I have faith - that God’s plan for you will not always have to be endured. You will find happiness.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“But,” she continued, her voice suddenly teasing. “In order to find that happiness, you need to be healthy and in one piece. Which means being more careful out there.” She poked him in the thigh for emphasis.

Matt groaned. “You saw the video.”

Daredevil had gone viral a couple of days ago.

A clip had been uploaded to social media of Matt rappelling acrobatically down the side of an 10-storey building in Hell’s Kitchen, and it had been shared several hundred thousand times across the net.

He hadn’t intended to make such a splashy descent. He’d been chasing a murder suspect from above and his foot had slipped on a patch of black ice just as he’d leapt off the top of a building. It had affected his trajectory and he’d collided with the side of the adjacent building instead of alighting on the rooftop. He’d quickly flipped his way down to the ground using window ledges and fire escapes and had landed in the alley below in seconds. The rooftop pursuit has turned into a street-level chase and he’d eventually caught his man…not realising he’d been caught on camera in the process.

“Yes I saw the video,” Maggie chided. “And watching it shaved a decade off my life.”

“I’ll be more careful, I promise."

“Good.”

Matt smiled. It felt like such a normal mother-son interaction. A hint of the relationship they could maybe have in the future.

It was another source of hope. Another bit of light to balance the darkness.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Matthew.”

 ———

 Matt returned to his rooftop hours later feeling…lighter. Not quite at peace, and nowhere near happy, but he was a little less miserable and a lot less defeated.

It was officially Christmas morning, and Matt paused for a moment to take it in. A thin layer of fresh snow blanketed the city, softening its harsh edges. The soundscape was muted and the world was still. He took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the powdery white snow and letting the chilled air cool him down after his hours of activity.

And he let himself enjoy the moment of tranquility.

It felt like he was the only person awake in Hell’s Kitchen. And instead of that making him feel lonely, it made him feel…lucky. Lucky, that he got to experience the world in a way no one else did.

But on the heels of that thought, came one that had been his constant companion for weeks:

He wished Calina was here.

He wished that he could share this with her.

He would tell her about the way the world felt to him in this moment, and she would add colour to his view. He would hold her in his arms to keep her warm as they stared out at the cityscape, and she would lean up to kiss his jaw…

Matt sighed and shook his head. He could never seem to escape the sensation that everything in his life was a lesser version of what it should be. A shadow of what it could be…because she wasn’t here. 

He trudged over to the access door and pulled it open, not looking forward to the hours ahead. His mind was bound to torment him with all those ‘should-be’s and ‘could-be’s as he battled in vain for sleep.

And as if to rub salt in the wound, he caught a hint of Calina’s scent as he descended the staircase into his apartment. Sometimes the draft stirred up pockets of her hidden scent, releasing it into the air as if to torture him with her absence.

But…this time the scent got stronger as he reached the living room. There was a heart beat echoing in his ears that wasn’t his own, and deep, slow breaths shifted the air around him…

Matt froze. He licked his suddenly dry lips, scared to believe what his senses were telling him.

Calina was here.

He pulled off his mask as he slowly approached his bedroom, where her scent was stronger still. He slipped into the room, and crouched beside his bed, then reached out his hand...

And found her skin beneath his fingers, so warm and soft.

He exhaled shakily as he stroked the length of her bare arm where it rested on the covers. He dragged his touch up over the gentle slope of her shoulder and swept a lock of her hair off her forehead and behind her ear, following the curve of her jaw with the tip of his finger. Then he cupped her sleep-flushed cheek, just as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hi,” she said simply. As if they’d been apart for a matter of hours, instead of weeks. As if it was natural for her to be here waiting for him, instead of a miracle.

Instead of the answer to all his prayers.

He shook his head in wonder. “Hi.”

“I meant to stay awake,” she said, her voice a barely-there whisper. “But I’d forgotten how comfortable this bed is.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered back, sifting his fingers through her hair. “Is it…? Does this mean…?”

“No,” she said sadly. “It’s not over. I can’t stay. I just…I missed you.” 

He tried to smile, but a tear fell instead. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head in the mattress in front of her, all the stress and misery of the last couple of weeks finally coming to a head.

It was her turn to run her fingers through his hair as she comforted him. “Oh, Matt. I’m so sorry.” He felt the bed shift as she propped herself up on her elbow, then she leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have come. This will make it so much harder to say goodbye again, won’t it? I just wanted to see you. For a little while.”

She sounded so distraught. He lifted his head and cradled her face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologies for coming here. I’m so glad you did - I missed you so much.” He surged up and kissed her, trying to prove how grateful he was - how happy he was in this moment - with his touch.

He never wanted her to regret coming to him.

He pressed his lips to hers, the act of kissing her still so new and exhilarating, even as the feel of her in his arms was so familiar.

Like coming home.

Within moments, the kiss deepened as they both revelled in the sensation of finally being able to touch each other again. Matt buried his fingers in her hair and Calina grasped the material of his suit. She used her hold to pull him closer and he went willingly onto the bed to cover her body with his own. He sank into the cradle of her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist as her arms encircled his shoulders.

Then she broke the kiss and buried her head in the crook of his neck, holding him tightly. He felt damp heat on his skin and realised it was her turn to cry.

He wedged his arms beneath her back and rolled them over until she was draped over him. “Shhh, it’s okay, Callie, I’m here,” he murmured, running his hands over her back. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong because he was feeling the same way - grateful, and relieved and happy at being together again...but with weeks of suppressed loneliness and fear in need of release.

This reunion was a catharsis of sorts for the both of them.

Matt would have been content to hold her all night as she worked through her tears, but minutes later she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “Sorry," she sniffled. "This isn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture I had planned."

He smiled up at her as he helped brush away the moisture on her cheeks. “You’re here, surprising me at Christmas - that’s more romance than I ever could have hoped for.”

She returned his smile, but hers was still shaky with emotion. “I just…”

“What? You can tell me.”

She scraped her fingers gently through his hair as her eyes swept over his face. “I never expected to feel like this. I missed you so much, Matt.”

“I missed you too.”

She shook her head. “No. I really, really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and wondering what you were doing. And I ached in here,” she pressed a hand to her chest. “Like my heart had been torn out.”

“I felt the same way.”

She shook her head again, sharper this time. As if he wasn’t understanding her. He rolled them onto their sides and stroked her hair off her face. “What is it, Calina? What are you trying to say?”

She swallowed, then answered him in a whisper. “I spent my whole life avoiding getting attached to anyone. The girls I grew up with…at any moment they could have been killed or forced to kill me, so we all consciously kept our distance from each other. I’m only just now finding out what its like to have friends. To have sisters. To form connections with people. And its good. Its really…good.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“But its so much more with you. The way I feel about you, and the way it feels to be apart from you…it’s so much, Matt. It- it scares me.”

The vulnerability in her voice broke Matt’s heart. And while her admission - of how much she cared about him - made him deliriously happy, it also brought one of his own fears to the surface.

Months ago, he’d used Calina’s inexperience as an excuse to not be with her. He’d pretended at the time that he didn’t want to take advantage of Calina’s naivety by pursuing something with her. It had been one of the lies he’d told Foggy - and himself.

But with most lies, it was based on a nugget of truth.

Calina was inexperienced. This was her first real relationship and everything she felt was no doubt magnified as a result.

And he was terrified that he would do something to hurt her.

Not intentionally, of course. But his track record with women was…not great. He knew that he had the capacity to be selfish. And careless with others’ feelings. His experience with Karen - someone that meant a great deal to him - proved that.

He didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes with Calina. He didn’t want to ruin what they had, or cause her pain. He didn’t want to do anything to damage her first experience of love.

Which would be her only experience of love, if he had any say in it.

He pulled her closer and shared his fears with her - she deserved to know that she wasn’t alone in what she was feeling. “I’m scared too,” he whispered. “This - the way I feel about you - is so much more than I’ve ever felt for anyone. And while it isn’t my first time, that just makes it all the more terrifying. Because I know that it could all go wrong. I know that I could ruin everything.”

She tipped her head to rest her forehead against his. “I could ruin it, too, you know. And that’s another thing I’m scared of.”

“So we just have to promise, here and now, to never do anything to hurt one another. To never cause each other pain, or ruin what we have. Simple.”

She laughed, just as he intended. “Simple.”

“There is something else we can promise - something that’s slightly more realistic.”

“What?”

“We can promise to always fight for each other. To fight for this. And not just run away when things get hard.”

Calina frowned at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking in hypotheticals?”

Because he wasn’t.

Matt was self aware enough to know that he had some pretty major abandonment issues, and Calina’s disappearing act last month had really done a number on him. And now that they were sharing their fears, it seemed like a good moment to bring it up. “You left," he explained, his voice hesitant. 

"You know why I had to leave. Volkov-"

"No, before that. After what happened between us at the gym. And after what you heard Foggy say at the bar."

“Oh," she responded. "That."

“You just vanished Calina. I had no idea where you went and you weren’t answering your phone. I knew that you were hurting but I had no way to find you and make things right. It was horrible. Please don’t ever do that again. Promise that you’ll stay and fight. Or if you need some space, please just give me a way to contact you. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

Calina wound her arm around his waist, holding him in comfort. “I’m so sorry, Matt. I- I didn’t know.”

“I’m not saying all this to make you feel bad-”

“I get that. I’m still sorry though. And I promise not to do that again. But you have to promise to cut me some slack when I get a bit overwhelmed by all this.”

“I can do that.”

Calina tightened the arm around his waist, and the action made the material of his suit crinkle. It reminded Matt that he was still dressed as Daredevil and that he should get up and get changed. But he was reluctant to break the intimacy of this moment. He’d never had a relationship built on this much honesty - which was ironic considering how many lies he and Calina told to each other in the beginning.

But here they were, several months later, openly and frankly admitting all of their feelings and fears and the things they needed from each other. It felt like they were building the foundation of something strong and lasting.

There was still a delicate…newness…to their relationship, but with every moment they spent together, that fragile, delicate core was reinforced and made more secure. He looked forward to the day when they were rock solid, embedded with one another in certainty and bound by commitment. He had a feeling even that wouldn’t completely allay his fears of abandonment, but it would go a long way.

They just needed some time to get there.

Time that they weren’t permitted right now thanks to the men hunting Calina and the other Widows.

Matt banished that thought for now - he wanted to enjoy Christmas with Calina without worrying about their inevitable separation. And he wanted to enjoy the thought of their future together.

It was yet another source of hope.

Another source of light to balance the darkness. 

————–

Chapter 20

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @chezagnes @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy​

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fandom #marvel's daredevil #Matt Murdock #daredevil x oc #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x original character #tabula rasa

[spacehostilityy]

NNT Rewatch s2ep7-12 !!

(Still from my drafts! Just moved back to college yesterday and today and classes start tomorrow. Wish me luck! My schedule sucks this year so I'll need it lol)

man this is flying by!! but lucky me, the druids’ holy land arc is one of my favorites

King learning throughout this season that not only does he need the other Sins, but they need and love him is so sweet. I just love the character development they all go thru this season

draw him like one of your french girls ~~

I love that Matrona has purple eyes like Diane, the small details really make it

I actually NEED to know what Monspeet and Meliodas’s relationship was prior to his betrayal. “I can’t believe HE’S the one who sensed us” ?? Whats that about🤨 also zeldris and monspeet seem to have been in good terms, like were they all friends?

I don’t know how its possible, but Monspeet’s voice is even hotter in spanish

I love that despite galand not being able to lie, they still don’t believe his stories lol

KAJSDKWUDFL I forgot how shocked i was with the reveal that Merlin stole Mel’s power i just love the druid training arc sm

theyre so silly i love them

do we know why jenna and zaneri don’t have wings? are they just hidden with magic or something??

okie so apparently they’re just inhabiting human bodies and their real bodies had wings. found this on the wiki, do we know where the info comes from?

WAIT do jenna and zaneri know elizabeth?? Like KNOW her?

HAHAHA this part always destroys me

ngl the best thing seven deadly sins as an narrative does is portray the intense agony and trauma from mel and ellie’s curses

anyway... the fact that Meliodas and Zaratras were of equal rank when they met is kinda funny

the absolute horror on meliodas’s face when he hears liz is just PERFECT

liz is so slay she’s everything i want elizabeth liones to be

King: uhh hey jenna...🥺 what are you planning to have us do in there😓

Jenna: isnt it obvious??? 🤨 rigorous training 😤😤

the way they cut btwn scenes of meliodas abt to lose it and him and liz being happy is just so well done

I love that they were trying to get Meliodas to abandon his emotions to keep his rage in check and then when he actually has no emotions we find out that he’s straight up evil and much, MUCH worse than before lol

the tears pooling on their insanely pointy chins always gets me lol. but also mel just violently sobbing and then suddenly being fine. Mans has serious issues with repression that can def be drawn to his daddy issues

BAN/ZHIVAGO ARC😭😭😭 a few observations: Ban is very clearly influenced by Zhivago’s style, like the clothes are so similar, the fact that they sent Ban to Aberdeen prison and his favorite is Aberdeen ale makes me think he associates it with his dad, Zhivago was hot, Ban mirrors Zhivago’s words to him to Elaine, Zhivago tells Ban to never trust humans and the only humans he ends up trusting are Escanor and Jericho, zhivago has lived in misery about the deaths of his children for almost 40 years :(

idk why this is one of my fave arcs it’s literally just angst lol

gil and howzer as boyfriends. Discuss.

seeing gowther fight hand to hand is actually pretty cool, i had assumed he was weak like king but he can hold his own

how did king not clue in when galand literally opened with “Meliodas its been such a long time” like BABE CMON

BAN TELLING JERICHO SHE’S HIS WALLET 😭😭

meliodas just mocking king for his lack of wings is always funny. nothing like a dick joke to make you feel better after Zhivago’s death

I HAVE to do a meliodas self hatred/relationship to being a demon post, i have so many thots

I LOVE WHEN HE GOES TO SEE THE 10 COMMANDMENTS HES SO BADASS

monspeet shielding Derieri from the rocks with his cape🥺

melascula is so sassy i love her

estarossa is my deranged babygirl i love him. that fucking freak

I JUST KNOW TAIZOO AND THAT LITTLE TWINK ARE FUCKING

taizoo is a bottom.

meliodas somehow has 15 year old rizz. like the fucking blond boys.

(not so) fun fact: Elaine is my mom’s name so its a little weird

nakaba’s size kind seriously needs to be studied

ESCANORRRRRR

okie doke that’s it join us next time !!

[rinstars]

「 DAY & NIGHT 」 ♤ PROLOGUE

MAIN PAIRING: Suna Rintarō x Fem!Reader

CHARACTERS: Hajime Iwaizumi. Miya Atsumu. Oikawa Tooru. Miya Osamu. Sakusa Kiyoomi. A couple of OCs to be introduced later.

GENRE: Romance. Sexual Content. Angst.

TAGS/WARNINGS: Arranged Marriage. Enemies to Lovers. Royalty Setting. Vampire AU. Some revenge and betrayal on the side. Hierarchical concepts.

PS. NOTE : UHMMM finally the prologue! if youve read it before, theres quite some changes in this than the older version and i hope u enjoy it as much. cfm did so well i have so much pressure for this one but 🤣 WHATEVER thank u for all ur support ily all sm. RBs and feedback help me so much more than you can all imagine so plz 🙏

SYNOPSIS: Nothing good can possibly come out of putting your life in the hands of someone who wants nothing more than to kill you. But faced with an enemy stronger than both of you could ever be, you are left with no choice but to let him lead the way—putting aside the lovers, secrets, and fact that you’d never have his heart as you find the truths behind the things that tore you apart in the first place.

TAGLIST: OPEN (send an ASK/REPLY below this post)

masterlist | next

"It stinks of an Arche in here."

"Quiet! You do not mention that name in the House of Lucia. Besides, it's impossible. All of them have perished."

There's quiet murmur everywhere. Eyes that couldn't quite believe their surroundings and gossip that flow from the walls like little ants that have nowhere to go. Well, that isn't surprising if you take into consideration everything there is to say about the whole thing. It's a miraculous event. Absolutely historical. Not centuries before and probably not centuries after this day.

Not after what's about to happen.

Still, more than the mindless gossip from everyone, the chatter on the house's elegance overpowers it all. There's bewilderment on everyone's faces as they witness the House of Lucia for the first time. After all, it never opened its doors for anyone before. The crimson velvets, the polished and veined marbles that litter the ground, the iridescent gold lights beaming at the center are all unfamiliar. Both in a good and bad way. There's an ominous feeling as everyone takes in the ballroom—a feeling like they don't belong. As if the only ones who should ever set foot in the carpeted stairs are the celestial beings of Lucia themselves.

You stood near the corner of the grandiose ballroom, away from the prying eyes. If you stay hidden, there's no way the gossip would revolve around you. Besides, nothing's better than being a spectator in the House of Lucia. Observance can get one very far. If you do it enough, you'd see all the strengths and weaknesses everyone tries to hide. You see it in the clinking glasses filled with a dark liquid you choose to ignore, the prestigious gentlemen in their tailored suits, the maidens hanging on their arms, the group of people clad in black Victorian attires as they play and sing Mozart's Lacrimosa on their shiny strings and percussion—the ever beautiful orchestra. 

Everyone hides their nerves behind fake smiles, crowding around the buffet filled with dishes none of these people have probably ever dreamed of. At the center of the cloaked table, an overflowing crystal bowl sits with red liquid too thick and deep for the others to even get close to. The look of it makes your eyes twitch, a gulp going down your throat while you look at the guests swiftly maneuvering their way around it.

How very fitting.

As if that wasn't enough to intimidate the guests, there are black orchids hanging everywhere your eyes decide to land. On the rouge curtains, beneath the soles of the women dressed to the nines while they lean on tables adorned by velvet petunias.

A grand setup for an announcement supposed to be just as grand. 

Your observation is cut short. The sound of large mahogany doors opening and lights beaming at the center of the grandiose space takes your attention away. Suddenly, the room grows silent as everyone stands straight —their very best behavior on display for the people entering the room. Soon enough, heels and boots fill the sound, the imperial family descending down the stairs. Dropping your heads down in greeting, you don't miss the sudden tension that weighs over the room. Shaking pupils hidden beneath artificial glee.

As expected.

"Greetings to the Suns of the Empire!" the people shouted with such fake enthusiasm to welcome the heroes of not just Lucia but the whole Empire. You wonder if the imperial family could tell these people are all scared of them. Then again, this is Lucia's kingdom you're in. The people are all too observant but too kind to do anything about it.

Or at least that’s the image they all try to play. 

The family whose excellence put an end to the eons of slaughter, cutting the Sanguine Wars short and giving peace to the people who used to live their lives in the dark. The unexpected but welcomed return of the rising "heroes" of humanity. Incredibly fitting for the meaning of their names, probably. 

The Sunas—proclaimed suns of the empire, the light in the dark, almighty family with hearts made of gold as vibrant as their eyes. The very same family who disappeared centuries ago in the height of war, leaving the Northern Empire, Lucia, alone as the people fight and beg for scraps as aftermath. Still, it's very clear how the people of Lucia deal with situations like this. And this party is testament enough to the fact that their sins are easily overshadowed by their acts of heroism. Perhaps that's fair treatment. After all, the generation who left is nowhere near this new generation of the family. 

Upon saving the world, their lost honors were handed to them on a silver platter. Not much groveling involved. At the end of the day, who would dare? This is no ordinary family. They're the oldest and mightiest of the two living lineages of vampires left. However, it's very much still a shock. The admirers are much greater but the ones who condemn aren't none. This is the same family whose ancestors lead the greatest wars against humanity. They're supposed to be humanity's enemies. 

But did that really matter? One look at this family and all reasons go down the drain.

Averting your eyes, you notice a woman with platinum hair standing out among the crowd just a few meters apart from you. There's an unmistakable warmth in her eyes as she eyes one of the men atop the dais, sitting in his throne at the very far end of the room with a seemingly very uninterested gaze—nod barely there as he greets the guests hesitantly approaching him. A friend you notice was standing beside her joins in as they both gape at him, whispering what's probably something degenerate about what's beneath his clothes, and they never fail to make her blush.

There's an urge for you to eavesdrop, your feet carrying you to them before you could register the action. Oh, well, what's the harm? You're excited to join them in their blather. This party's boring you to the core. You imagine the main event isn't in a few more hours, so really, what's left for you to do?

Their eyes snap at the clicking sound of your heel as you get closer, their eyes shamelessly trailing up and down your body. In intrigue, admiration, or disgust, you couldn't tell. Perhaps mo of the first one. After all, no one in this room is dressed in your color. It's basically taboo to do so in the Land of Lucia. The Northern people aren't very welcoming of the dark. At the same time, maybe there's wonder behind those eyes. About who you could be. Since truthfully, no one dresses like you do if the intention wasn't to be remembered.

Ignoring their gazes, you opt for a sweet smile, arms resting atop their table the moment it was within your reach to do so. Resisting the urge to click your tongue, you turn to the platinum-lady, "My apologies, ladies, but do you mind if I join you?"

The pair looked at each other with such clear uncertainty, it was practically tangible. Platinum hair swallowed thickly, plastering a fake look of humility as she gently questions your intentions, "Yes?"

"No big reason at all!" you exclaim, nails tapping the glass of wine that sits abandoned on your side as you chuckle at her response. "The party is grand while the night is long. Loneliness is very easy to come by."

Eyes dancing around the ballroom, your eyes mistakenly catch the gaze of someone you wished to avoid. Tearing your eyes away, the burn in your stomach starts building up. Well, nothing much you can do about it but pretend it didn't affect you as it did so you try to engage platinum hair and her friend in conversation instead.

"Is that so?" she drawls. "I'm afraid we haven't caught your name yet, however." 

She's definitely mocking you. Unfamiliar face means no one of importance. And no one of importance means no place in her company. She's the daughter of the Prime Minister after all. She's rich, pretty, and prestigious and your courage to stand beside her is blasphemy in her book. 

"No one of importance, I'm afraid," you try to feign the look of shame, verbalizing the words in her head. "It's just that I wished to be acquainted with our future princess before it's made official and you're way far out of my reach. It seems you're way more beautiful than the rumors say."

At the sound of that, her face lit up, eyes shining as she basked in the compliment you threw around. Her friend nods along. Someone clearly just as oblivious as her. Though, when the high from the compliment dies down, platinum hair snaps her head back at you—eyes shaking as she looks around to see if anyone has heard of your declaration.

"Oh, you're too kind, my lady. However, if I could hopefully ask you to mind your statements with a little more.. care, I'd greatly appreciate it." she taps at your arm, looking at you incredulously. You could feel her pulse on her fingertips. The idea of marrying the 2nd Prince obviously arouses her.. albeit.. arranged. "Besides, the prince will have your head if someone hears you announcing it in such a preposterous manner."

There's pain in her voice when she says that. How she wishes every night she's able to talk about him and brag about their future to the people. Just how envious would the ladies of Lucia be to find out she's about to be linked with him eternally? Not anyone else but her. For as long as they both lived. Surely, everyone would end up fainting. The ladies grow weak enough as it is at the talk of how visually pleasing he looks. Hair long enough to touch his cheeks, eyes a mix of something golden and green, a hypnotizing gaze that tells you all about the coldness in him, perfectly shaped nose, a jawline possibly just as sharp as his fangs are. And all of these she'd end up waking up to every morning? The others would die in a pool of their own tears and envy.

"I'm sure the prince wouldn't mind, Miru." her friend giggled, linking arms with her best friend. "Isn't he extremely fond of you?"

"Certainly.. Even so, I'd prefer for the announcement to come from the Imperial family themselves. Veza is a sacred ritual. What's more, controversial, now that he's going through it with a human being." Arata Miru murmurs with a quiet voice, the terrifying feeling at the foreign act of veza, of being linked by blood and soul to a species completely different from her, seeping through her bones. 

You thought it was ridiculous. She has nothing to be afraid of. He's still the 2nd Prince and he is a dream to her. It didn't matter to her then that he's a vampire so why should it matter now? More than the fact that she holds feelings for the guy, you're sure the idea of being one of the most respected people in both realms is also another thing to look forward to. The moment she's wedded to him, nobody would dare touch her. At least not if they value their lives. 

"Do you think the linking process will hurt?" her friend's raven hair bounced as she lurched forward to whisper, probably also noticing the unmistakable anxiety in her friend's voice. The girl was practically shaking.

"I— I mean, it's necessary," she whispers with a shaky breath, eyes looking back and forth between both of you like she's asking for reassurance.

"Definitely," you trail off, nodding as you bite your cheeks to stop your amusement from showing. "Guess you'll find out when the ceremony begins."

No.. No, you won't.

You had to dig your nails on your palms—resisting the urge to reply and further contribute to the raging nerves of the poor woman in front of you. Arata Miru is a sweet girl. Elegant and gentle. Maybe too much attitude and possessiveness born of her privileges and love but it didn't necessarily make her a bad person. Perhaps it's your own personal feelings playing a part in the disdain you harbor for the lady.

There were hanging questions in the air from the moment the wedding got brought up to now. None of them have found their answers especially when the ladies in front of you are struggling to even form the correct terms to use. Veza is not something they're accustomed to, anyways. You suppose this confusion is normal. Not to mention the fact that no one else around her knows enough to help.

All they had to do was ask, though. 

Because you were certain you had the exact answers. 

You don't believe they'd even consider that, however. You're a nobody in the midst of these high nobles. If the educated men and scholars she grew up with didn't have the answers, why would you?

"Miru. .  Miru! His Highness!" Suddenly her friend starts with urgency, disrupting both your thoughts and Miru's nerves. Both of you snap your head in the direction she's looking at and unshockingly, the 2nd Prince himself struts over to your table—amusement in his otherwise cold eyes.

"Highest praises to the Agnar of the Empire," you all recite, heads bowing down to greet the devil himself. When you raise your heads, golden-green eyes immediately meet yours—so much disapproval in a single glance.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you watch as all of the firm disapproval for you disappeared once he's looking at Arata Miru. There's a softened, almost caring, gaze that washes over his eyes and it was visible to everyone in the room watching the exchange. The people had their suspicions. The rumors in Lucia spread around like pests. But to see him approach the lady's table, it seems they all just got confirmed.

You wanted to snicker at everything in this house. Here is the prince who led the war, the second son of the family who's treated with as much respect as the crown prince, on one of the secluded sides of the ballroom. On the table of his soon-to-be fiancé with both curiosity and warning in his eyes. The latter obviously for you. 

Just a regular night in the House of Lucia.

The pair of ladies showered him with praises, no one daring to get any closer as they all admired the interaction from afar. You want no part in it. Seeing them gives an uneasy feeling on your stomach. Besides, your ears are ringing from hearing the same things the whole night. His congratulations for ending the tyrannical rule of the Arches in Lucia are endless. However, you'd bet he was tired of it too. It's a miracle he can retain such a calm expression. He's basically reeking of annoyance. 

"Everybody thought Melantha would always be under their rule. We were all so terrified they'd keep ruling Lucia, too! You're truly the light of the Empire to save us from such tragedy, my Prince," Miru exclaims enthusiastically, expression changing every once in a while as she recalls the story of how Melantha, the South, fell by the Lucia's, the North, hands in the army led by the 2nd Prince. All of this is old news. Still, it seems Arata Miru would do anything in her power to appeal to her future husband. 

Stepping to the side, you decide you've heard enough and wouldn't want to hear any more. Miru's cheery voice is giving you a headache and the story is irritating you as it replays like a broken record. 

The scents of everyone around you make you dizzy. There's the strong smell of perfume and something else you wouldn't want to dwell on. Not to mention, the overflowing crystal bowl at the center of the room. Preoccupied with the headache building up, you almost miss the presence that suddenly stepped in your space.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" you deadpan sarcastically, face turning sour at the fact he decided to follow you even in the darkest corner of the grand ballroom.

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm afraid," he replies with equally as much sarcasm, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his head on the wall beneath him. He's oozing asshole.

"Oh, I believe you. I'm not very easy to come by," you agree, tucking a stray hair behind your ears. "You should be honored."

He hissed, clicking his tongue in annoyance before deciding to completely ignore your statement. Apparently, he's not in the mood for games like these. Pity. That's the only way you both play. 

"She's just as I know her to be," he mumbles, nodding to a passerby who bent down to greet him. It's ridiculous how the whole space seems to be under his command. Imperial families and their intimidations.

"Not that I wanted to hear about this but I'll humor you, I suppose. That a good or bad thing?" 

"Just amusing," he says, fingers gesturing for a waiter to get close as he snags a glass of the thick red drink—blood, if you haven't already guessed. 

Looking at him as the metallic tang of the drink hits your nose, you can't help but acknowledge the way he looks tonight. He does not perspire. Neither does his face show the slightest signs of stress or fatigue. The only indication he's uncomfortable comes in the way he would tense his shoulders. There itch in him to take his white coat and vest off is rubbing off on you. When he thinks no one's looking, his fangs would retract, making you look away. 

"I, for one, think it's unfortunate she's in love with you," you muse, shaking your head. "What a waste of beauty."

"It's unfortunate everyone wants me to take her hand in marriage. She's not the woman fit to be wedded into my household—especially not through a sacred ceremony. No human, at that, is." There's a crack in his stoic facade when he says that, making you raise your eyebrows. Was it pity? Or sadness? No matter what it was, it disappeared as soon as it came. Now, he's back to looking at you. "Besides, it's not like you could fucking talk, yeah?"

That hit a nerve. "I guess so," you play it off with a shrug. "Well, are political marriages always absolute?"

He snickers at that, dry amusement playing underneath his dark gaze. "Didn't think politics were in your line of interests."

You've had enough with this man. You're not talking to him anymore. You don't know why you're even engaging in a conversation that doesn't include curses and insults but now that you did, you see why you've both never done it. He couldn't possibly start thinking you're jealous. Even if he was just teasing you, you didn't like the sound of it. 

"I would've asked you for a dance," he starts again, moving to stand in front of you with palms upturned in a silent message that urges you to take it. Pressing your palms flat against him, his thumb immediately reaching around to rub small circles on the back of your hand. All of that until he's squeezing the life out of it with a devious smirk, pointed nails extending as he tries to gouge a reaction out of you in front of all the whispering people. "Only if you didn't make my fucking skin crawl."

Pulling your hands away, a thin trail of red running down your fingers as the point scrapes your skin, you remain stoic as you tell him. "Oh, Rintarō, I share the exact same sentiments as you do. Don't go thinking you're special now."

You resist the urge to say anything that would spark a fight between both of you. After all, if people start talking, things might begin getting complicated. You're not here for the pleasures of elegance nor the satisfaction of pissing the 2nd Prince off. You're here for a grander purpose. A bigger goal. Something where your personal feelings do not play a part in.

The song in the orchestra changes almost as if by command. The cheery music invites people to gather at the dance floor. You were about to turn around, watch as the people celebrate with the festive spirit you couldn't afford. But before you could, cold fingers are wrapping around your wrist to stop you. 

"It's time. We have to go." His voice is quiet, cautious, as he shakes his head at you. Eyes darting around, he makes sure his fiancée is far out of earshot. "Now."

Biting your tongue, you nod back at him, letting him lead you away from the people and into a place deeper and farther away from the crowd. Into a place where they wouldn’t find either of you. He reached into his pockets, fishing out a rusted key that lets you in a wooden door leading to a secret tunnel. Once inside, he lets go of your hand, looking back every once in a while to make sure no one is trailing closely behind. A waste of effort. You're pretty sure the moment someone entered the door, he'd feel their presence before he'd see them.

At the end of the tunnel, a metal door rests—one he unlocks just as easily as the first one. The moment he does, a distinctive scent fills your senses. The forest is pitch black, just as you'd expect it to be in a dark night where the only source of light comes from the full moon in the sky. You walk deeper and deeper into the forest, crunching sounds of dried leaves and branches ahead of you serving as a guide for how long you'd have to walk. When the sounds stop, you halt to find a circle drawn on the ground with runes and lines both inside and outside the shape. 

"Are you sure you did this right?" You question him in doubt, throat starting to tighten up at the image in front of you.

"Do not compare me with your incompetence," is all he said in return as he lights the torches circling the space. The amber glow of the flame gives off a sinister vibe to the place. His pale skin reflects the color back at you when he says, "The Queen of the Atractus Cerberus, the first child of my Hellhound, a white raven. All of their bloods litter the ground you're standing in. Don't make the mistake of ruining the damn circle now, Ayla."

Ayla, meaning the "halo of light around the moon", falls from his lips, making you roll your eyes at the use of the nickname. He's not among the people who can call you that but apparently, he thinks it's funny to use it instead of your actual name. 

"I don't know much about your competence but I guess I'll believe you for now. Not that I have much choice on the matter," you force down a choke at the smell floating around the air. You wouldn't say it aloud but he definitely got it all right. The stench in the air is too much even for you.

Passing a black cloak to you, your hands can't help but shake as you catch it. There's a dark cloud of hesitation glooming over your head. The consequences and weight of all your decisions leading up to this moment plaguing your mind now that you're only a couple of steps away from accomplishing the plan. Realizing it's too late as you eye the cloak on your arms, you put it on with a swallow.

The hesitance in his eyes is as clear as yours. Something that tells you he wouldn't have gone through with this had there been a better option. Sucks for both of you that there's none. The song ends in a few minutes and by then, everyone would be looking for their prince. There's not much time left to question if this was the right choice all along. So he bares his fang, raising his wrist closer to it as he rips the pale skin apart—dark liquid oozing out of the laceration.

He brought it closer to your face, eyes not breaking firm eye contact with yours as he silently urged you to begin. With a shaky smile, dripping with the sarcasm that should tell him you're not ecstatic at the idea, your mouth opens as thick liquid drips all over your lips. Swallowing as quick as you can to avoid the taste, you take every drop that falls from his hovering arm.

He regenerates quick enough, the wound closing and therefore, ending the first part of the ritual. Wiping your lips, you turn to him in panic when you hear the song from the hall nearing its climax as you realize the amount of time you have left.

He dismisses your panic. "We still have more than enough time. Go on." 

Hastily following his previous actions, you pulled your sleeves up in an attempt to create a small laceration he could drink from. However, just as you were about to take a bite, Suna Rintarō snatches your arm, biting into it directly in a hurry. If you didn't hate the guy, you'd start thinking this was an erotically sexy sight. But because you did, all you feel is humiliation.

Standing in such close proximity with a Suna is already enough stain on your pride. But letting him drink directly from your wrist, smooth skin of his throat moving in unison with the pressure on your wrist, is definitely the final blow. You don't think your pride would recover from this. You don't think you'll ever feel clean again.

He tugs your wrist away after a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he picks up a blade and goblet from the ground. He holds the former in one of his hands while the other, he pushes to your fingers with a blank look. Opening his palm, he slits a large gash running from his index finger across the base of his hand diagonally, a red trail following the blade. Squeezing his fingers shut, he lets the blood drip to the cup in your hands—clenching his jaw as you quickly approach the last stages.

With a placid expression, he murmurs to you in a quiet voice, "Give me yours." 

Repeating the same step, you mix your blood together in the shared cup, watching the liquid swirl at the bottom. There's so little of it inside. You know the nauseating feeling is not from the fact that you'd have to drink it. Rather, it comes from the thought of doing this with your enemy.

Tossing the blade in his hand to the side, he takes a step towards you, so close you could feel every expand of his chest with each breath he takes, and intertwines your bloody palms. You're supposed to say the first words. A woman is supposed to begin the final part of the ceremony. You knew that. But how does one begin when you couldn't even bring yourself to breathe properly?

"Does it humiliate you?" He breaks your trance, voice without a trace of guilt for putting you in this position, knowing you wouldn't have it in you to refuse.

"Why wouldn't it, Rintarō?" You snarl at him, voice sounding more pained than angered. "You ravished my people, took half our lands, and almost fucking killed all of us. And now, I'm supposed to go through this with you because you dragged us so low I have no way of getting us back up."

"I know," he simply answers, tightening his hold on your hand. "But I couldn't take it back even if I tried, YN," your name fell from his lips so smoothly, it almost made you cave in. "What matters right now is us, at this moment, and we're about to fucking go through this. No matter what. Because it's what both of us need."

You don't know what it was. Maybe it was the gentleness in his eyes as he said that, the smallest glint of pity for both your situations. Or the warmth of his hands on yours which you didn’t even think was possible. Or the gentle blow of the wind on your face, messing your hair up, while his fingers reach to tuck it in your ears. Whatever it was, it gave you enough courage to speak the words. And by that point, you knew there was no going back.

"I, Daughter of the South, Child of Melantha, Princess of Arche, offer my eternity to the man before me. To be bound by blood for now and always, to be linked in life and death, to be connected by soul forevermore. I give you all of me and all I'll ever be. With this, I give you my heart."

No matter who it was, you suppose there will always be that magical and surreal feeling when going through the ritual. After all, you only hear the declaration once and never again. Maybe that's why Rintarō's eyes are suddenly clearing from whatever was clouding them before. There's pride in them as he watched you bring the cup to your lips—sealing your promise. 

You didn’t feel anything upon finishing the drink, making you doubt for a moment if you're even doing the right thing and following the correct sequence. Then again, you've been learning about the importance and significance of veza your whole lives. Both yourself and him. It was practically in the royal rulebook. There's no way you've missed something.

"I, Son of the North, Child of Lucia, Prince of Suna, offer my eternity to the woman before me. To be bound by blood for now and always, to be linked in life and death, to be connected by soul forevermore. I give you all of me and all I'll ever be. With this, I give you my heart."

Just like that, whatever uncertainty you previously had completely vanished. As soon as the first drop touches his lips, both of you are gasping at the caving feeling that spreads through your chests. Like half of you was taken, only to be replaced by something completely foreign but familiar at the same time. The heat consumes you, a painful type of ecstasy making your head spin as you stare at his eyes—a golden sea you could probably get lost in.

Tears well your eyes as he pulls you in for a kiss, the urge to feel you all over him knocking the air out of his system as he fights being emotional over someone he's not even supposed to like. His hands are so cold and callous but they somehow feel soothing against your cheeks. He loves the way your arm hooks around his neck to pull him closer.

"My bride," He breathes against your lips, making you shudder. "My wife."  

He holds you for as long as he can. For as long as the music in the hall would allow him to. You breathe each other in, memorizing the faces of your other halves. Both of you try to imprint it in your minds—the way you looked on the night you called each other a bride and a groom; a husband and a wife.

What you didn’t know then was the fact that everything about this night is too good to be true.

The song playing from the ballroom all the way back from the palace ends a few seconds later.

And along with it, the end of this fantasy.

Because you should have known better than to marry your killer.

A killer who wants your life as much as you want his.

@luna-mothii @thought-not @chemicalclub @omisemi @szna @chifuusunos @grouchybear @miya-dynasty @greenie-frog @ashxsr @gojoanti @wolffmaiden @xxserenitysnow666xx @luvcilfer @rosinaaa @van-chii @narinchan @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @circleglasses @tsuc0ckshima @nissss @ariana-neko @schonenacht @sunarintarouswhore @kaguyamas @satorinnie @mvkimas @rintasuna @kyriaan @captivateing @erinoikawa @sukuroo @xmyshya

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna smut #suna angst #suna rintaro angst #suna rintarou angst #sakusa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader

[dr3amofagame]

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like. 

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not. 

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs. 

Dream leaves.

 It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore. 

 None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature. 

 Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs. 

 “I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.” 

 Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?” 

 “If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?” 

 Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.” 

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information. 

 Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns. 

 “From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.” 

 Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

 “He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.” 

 “He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.” 

 Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern. 

 “Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?” 

 Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense. 

 “Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

 ---

 Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream. 

 “Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff. 

 “Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.” 

 “O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him. 

 “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod. 

 “There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.” 

 Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place. 

 “We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.” 

 “Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?” 

 Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.” 

 “Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?” 

 Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

 “He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.” 

 Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?” 

 Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table. 

 “You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut. 

 “The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

 “But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?” 

 “He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.” 

 “But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

 “There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.” 

 Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh. 

 “I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.” 

 ---

 They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

 (She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange. 

 “Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back. 

 “You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?” 

 Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

 They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. 

 “You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head. 

 “Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him. 

 “...these are going to take so long to clean out.” 

 To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

 They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

 “Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “ 

 He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes. 

 “You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

 She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done. 

 “The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.” 

 Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.” 

 Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.” 

 Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

 “Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

 “-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.” 

 “When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.” 

 “We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.” 

 “Alright, then. Here’s the plan.” 

 ---

 It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis. 

 “Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.” 

 “Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin. 

 “Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back. 

 “You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider. 

 “Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier. 

 “You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.” 

 Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?” 

 Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now. 

 Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass. 

 (Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

 She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later. 

 “I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened? 

 Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.” 

 “I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.” 

 “Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat. 

 “Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

 On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped. 

 “Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

 “He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light. 

 “Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

 “I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?” 

 “You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them. 

 “We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.” 

 They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava. 

 “Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him. 

 “Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident. 

 “You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs. 

 “Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.” 

 Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

 “Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

 Oh fuck.

 “Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.” 

 As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor. 

 Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?” 

 She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava. 

 “There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

 A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

 “You there, Dream?” 

 She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

 “Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath. 

 “Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.” 

 “I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

 “And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-” 

 “They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

 “And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.” 

 “You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.” 

 “Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-” 

 “I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.” 

 “Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-” 

 “Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?” 

 Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.” 

 “You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.” 

 “Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye. 

 “Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

 “Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

 “Niki, give us some fire res please?” 

 She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.” 

 She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep. 

 “Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend. 

 But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

[thestarrynightslover]

He has a thing for the mice

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,514

Warnings: Slight angst.

Summary: (y/n) works as a tech consultant at Intelligence and, even though the team guarantees her that she is one of them, Jay doesn’t seem to agree with that.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So… I finally managed to finish a WIP!! But I do have faith that it will be better from now on. Thanks for all the mind-blowing support, and feedback is appreciated, as usual! 💕

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

It had been six months since you first started working with the Intelligence Unit 𑁋 in the CPD 𑁋, as a tech consultant. At first, it was obvious that you weren’t very welcome there. All the officers just kept side-eyeing you all day long. Every single day. It was like they were expecting some big betrayal from you at any given moment and simply couldn’t risk sleeping with one eye open.

As time passed, though, they started warming up to you. And you, to them. You began to understand that, them being such a tight group, they had a hard time trusting outsiders. Also, that they’d already lost a handful of team members, for one reason or another, so it was plausible that they wouldn’t wanna get attached to someone new right away. And, you’d learnt that the last person who had that job, long before you even considered moving to Chicago, was detective Halstead’s best friend, who had gone back to risking his life for the army overseas.

That’s also how you accepted that, if he was ever going to warm up to you 𑁋 like the others had 𑁋, he’d do it on his own time. No point in pressuring him. Even though sometimes you really wanted to do so, you wanted him to like you. But not just because you two worked together and that would make for a good environment. You wanted him to like you because he was so kind. Caring. Funny. Smart. Cute. And you wanted that kind of guy to like you the same way you were realizing you liked him.

But, if you were being reasonable, it wasn’t about to happen any time soon. Nor should it happen, really. Over that half-year that had passed, you’d also learnt that that job was actually pretty cool. You were using your abilities for something truly good, for once. So, if Jay Halstead ever came to like you the same way you liked him… Whatever the two of you decided to do with that information could really jeopardize your spot there.

Not that you were a cop, you knew you weren’t. But, on your very first day, the sergeant had made it pretty clear that his rules, all of them, applied to you just as much as they did to everyone else.

What started to threaten that certainty you had was the way the detective talked to you on that morning: “Hey, uh, (y/n),” he started saying while walking over to your desk, “could you try and see if you can get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that little magic you work out?” Jay finished his question with an amused look on his face: raised brows, twinkling eyes, a small smile on his lips. As cute as he looked, that whole behavior made you very confused. Was Jay Halstead really being friendly with you? That mere possibility was enough to send your mind into a spiral of thoughts, which made the detective start calling out for you. “(y/n)?” He questioned, already panicking a little, afraid that you were ignoring him on purpose. Of course, that didn’t make any sense but he always got super nervous when you were around, which was why he tried to keep you at a safe distance. “(y/n)?”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe yourself at that moment. What were you? A teenager? “I’m so so sorry, detective! I just, uh… Got a little distracted. Could y- you repeat?” You weren’t looking in a mirror then but you knew for a fact that you were blushing. Hard.

“Ah, no worries. And please, call me Jay.” He told you, making your heartbeat race even faster. “Uh, I asked you if you could get any hidden information on our suspect? You know, that stuff us, cops, usually let slide…”

“Ah, right! Yeah, yeah! Sure, thing, detec- Jay.” You said, making him chuckle a little bit. So cute. You motioned towards the other monitor, to do what you were asked, but suddenly stopped yourself as you felt eyes on you. “Can I, uh, help you with anything else?” You asked Jay, who was just standing there staring at you.

“Oh! No, no! Thanks!” He quickly answered, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not he should keep talking. "It's just that you, um, you reminded me of Mouse a little bit."

"Um… Is that your friend? The one who used to work here?" You shyly ask, not knowing if it was a good idea to pry like that.

"Yeah! That's right. So, I assume someone here has told you about him?"

"Yes, they mentioned a few things. Said he was great. Now I'm just… Trying to live up to the standard." You confessed, suddenly remembering that that was Jay's best friend you were talking about. So, in order to correct your previous statement, you started rambling and ended up only burying yourself deeper: "I mean, not live up as in replace him or anything. More like be as good as. For the team. You know because we need to-"

"Hey, hey," he called out, laughing and raising his hands in front of his chest. "Relax. It's okay. I understood what you were trying to say. Besides, as a replacement to Mouse, you’re not bad at all.” The detective finished his reassurance with a wink, leaving an astonished version of you behind.

It was only much later on that day that you decided to just shrug off any mixed signals you might’ve been exchanging with Jay. Adam and the ladies had made it clear that you were all invited for a mandatory night out at Molly’s. Which meant you and the group were going there straight from the district, you being absolutely determined to drink your feelings 𑁋 and your day, really 𑁋 away. So that’s what you did and, considering that you didn’t have too much alcohol resistance… It was safe to say that things started to get pretty blurry pretty fast. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were dancing and chatting with every guy that showed up in front of you and wasn’t a certain good-looking detective. All of which wasn’t going by unnoticed on Jay’s end. He could tell you were avoiding him, he just had no idea why. It seemed to him like you two could get along fine 𑁋 not that he didn’t want it to be more than just fine 𑁋, he wanted a lot more than that but, after all he’d been through, he simply wasn’t sure he should make a move. And now… He really wasn’t sure.

That was until he spotted you struggling with a guy that seemed to be getting a little too handsy for your comfort. It was beginning to cause a scene but most of the familiar crowd was either gone or too distracted to help you.

“Hey, do we have a problem here, buddy?” You jumped a little as you felt Jay’s warm hand in the small of your back. He had a smug smirk on his face and his voice was filled with condescendence as he eyed up the guy you’d been trying to get rid of for the past minutes.

“Uh… Who the hell are you?”

“None of your business. Now, why don’t you just walk away from her, huh?”

“Well, I don’t see how this is any of your business.” The guy replied, maintaining his asshole stance.

“Well, the minute you started sexually harassing this woman you made it my business,” Jay said, lifting the side of his shirt just enough so that the dickhead could see his badge.

“Wow- relax, man! That’s not what was happening here! Besides she didn’t even accuse me of any-”

“Yeah? So, if you wanna keep it that way, I suggest you start walking away.” Hearing that, the guy just stood there, as if not believing the detective. “Now.” And that was the cue the idiot finally took to leave you alone.

“Thank you, Jay. Really.” You started saying after you turned to face him. “But you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled it.” You didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, it was just the truth.

“Oh, you could have? Because, from where I was standing, you were in trouble.”

“In trouble?” You ask him in disbelief. “I wasn’t in trouble. Just because I’m not a cop, doesn’t mean that I can’t defend myself, detective.” Hearing that, he seemed to realize what he’d just said.

“I- I’m sorry.” His eyes were so filled with worry at that moment that you couldn’t keep looking directly at him. But he just searched for your eyes until you gave in. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I really am. I didn’t mean that, I don’t think that. At all! I just-”

“You just wanted to help.” You finished his sentence whilst stifling a yawn with the back of your hand. “I get it, Jay. I do, don’t worry. I’m just really tired now. Think I’mma head home.”

“Right.” He muttered, still concerned about how you were leaving things with each other. “So, how about I take you home, hum?” He offered with a peace-making grin on his face, which you eyed suspiciously. “And all I’m really offering here is a cab paid for, I promise! Besides, I think I should get going too, so if we split… You know, at this time o' night, it's cheaper and safer. For both of us.” You were so tired at the moment that there didn’t seem to be any energy left in your body for bickering over a stupid cab.  

"Okay, then, let's split the cab." You finally agree, making his smile grow even bigger. So you two make your way outside, where you get on the first available cab you can find. Jay, obviously, making you give the driver your address for the first stop. Which you weren’t so reluctant in agreeing with, to tell the truth. But you hadn’t imagined that, on the way to your apartment, you’d end up falling asleep with your head on the detective’s shoulder, him caressing your hair. 

After a few minutes in the car, you were completely knocked out, which made him take it upon himself to struggle with you and your purse to make sure you got safely carried inside your house. Being the smart, resourceful person he is, Jay manages to pay the driver, get you both inside and gently put you in bed. The only thing was that, at that point, he was so tired that, somehow, he ended up climbing in there and falling asleep by your side.

The next morning, when you wake up, you turn your back to meet Jay's gorgeous sleepy face and, thinking that you were just in a very good dream, you start kissing him, who responds by kissing you back. Until you realize that it is actually happening.

"Wait a second, are you real?" You ask him, already feeling the embarrassment reach your cheeks.

"Uh, yeah, I think so? I mean, last time I checked..." Hearing that, you can’t help but start to panic a little. Watching you looking down at your fully clothed bodies and just becoming more confused, Jay decided to explain: "Oh, no! Don't worry about it! Nothing happened between us, until now anyway..." Seeing your horrified face, he added: "I just brought you home but, since you fell asleep in the cab, I brought you inside. And I guess I must've been so beat that I ended up falling asleep here, too. But I should have found a way to go home, I'm sorry." He finished the story, shooting you an apologetic look.

"No, no, that's okay... You were helping me and it was super late. It was only fair that you'd stay here. I'm the one who's sorry about, um, kissing you. I guess... I just thought that I was still dreaming." The second the words leave your mouth, you regret it, as he just smirks at you, eyes twinkling.

"So, you dream about me a lot, do ya?"

"No, I don't. That is not what I said. That is not what I said at all."

"No?" He playfully asks you, who quickly gets out of the bed. "Okay, maybe not... But it was implied."

"No, it wasn't." You say, not missing how he was crawling on the bed, towards where you were standing up.

"It was so implied." He continued teasing, already out of the bed and walking in your direction.

"That's- that's not even a thing. So implied." You ramble a little, feeling your body press against your bedroom wall because of all your walking backwards to get away from him.

"You know what? That doesn't really matter. Because," he was so close to you, and you didn't have any more room for an escape. Was he always that hot? The answer was an emphatic yes and you knew it. You'd spent so much time thinking about what those strong arms could do to you... "It was clearly implied." And that's when he kisses you. Roughly. Sweetly. Passionately. All in once. How was that even possible? There was a reason why you didn't want him to kiss you, you knew there was. But how could you remember it, when all you could think was: oh my God, oh my God, oh my God?

"No, Jay-" You managed to breathe out, his mouth pressing hot, wet, kisses to your neck. "We can't do this." You said a bit more firmly, pushing him from you a little.

"Why not? Is it because we work together? If it is, you should know that a lot of people have done it before. Besides, you're not a cop. So our relationship wouldn't put each other's lives in any danger." You kept your eyes on the floor, as you couldn't bring yourself to look at him just yet. But, hearing him say that... 'Our relationship'... Made you smile and look up at him. "Just- just give me a chance, that's all I'm asking for. One chance to prove to you that, not only we can do this, but, also, that we should do this.

"Okay... One chance." He kisses you right on the spot, as soon as you say that. "Okay! That was not what I meant when I said I’d give you a chance!"

"Of course not! Besides, that's definitely not how I'm using my chance. I'll present my plan to conquer you tomorrow night, at eight o'clock."

"Oh, so you're already willing to decide things for me? Just like that?" His smile was beaming so brightly at the moment, that it could have blinded you.

"Yeah, just like that. Cause I know we’ll have plenty of time for you to be the boss of me." Jay states, not even giving you any time to giggle, as he starts kissing you again. Only pausing to say: "But, for now..." And you can't even pretend to want him to stop kissing you anymore.

#jay halstead x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #imagines #one shot #one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #chicago pd #jay halstead #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot #fluff #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead x you #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead fluff

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 4 Decisions - Baneful Royal (Kylo Ren x Reader)

[A/N] SO I’m sorry if I’m not putting Kylo in just a much these last two chapters, but we are getting there TRUST ME. This chapter is long, its full of details and it is cheesy. Like I said, I love it and I love making these, even if they do take forever. Enjoy my chaos bbys <3

-

WARNING: this chapter contains angst, violence and uncomfortable situations. Reader discretion is advised.

“The meeting went well?”

Kylo nodded, just coming back to give the councilwoman his farewell at the loading dock. He sat down silently, helmet in hand. “You’ll be happy to know she is more than willing to accept our helping hand.”

“Good.” Hux said, placing a hologram pad on the table in front of Kylo. “Our little insider has more information, if you liked to hear.”

Kylo waved his hand in confirmation. Pressing a button, up popped Colonel Cate, her hands behind her back. Delightful to be told more about how easily this foolish authority could be taken down was a feeling Kylo could want to experience as long as he lived. The monster thrived off of it.

“Good evening, General.” She began, a look of annoyance already telling the room the contents of the message. “Might I start off by saying that the head of this establishment is a complete waste of time and resources. You can say I’ve gone nearly mad from all the fodder this idiot has been spewing at me for the past week.”

Kylo huffed in agreement. That makes two of us, he thought.

“With my personal emotions out of the way, I have gotten a hold of Sillin’s schedule for the upcoming days. If I am correct, and with approval, we may have our moment to strike very soon.” She confirmed. “The outline has been sent right away. I will be prepared for your response.”

The hologram disappeared. Kylo was amused. He had never seen a plan go so much in the right motion. Invincibility was within reach. “That was terribly easy.”

“Their trust in us really is laughable.” Hux replied, pulling up the plans sent. “But I think I would too in desperation.”

Kylo felt a twang in his chest. Trust in a corrupted being and one with good intentions were different. It takes no time for the corrupted to easily swallow trust into themselves and twist it to betrayal. It fueled their power to spread itself. He knew that situation too well, and had played this familiar scene many times. Had he been any normal person, he may have had some guilt over it.

What nagged Kylo was that of your trust.

It was kind of pathetic to have you spill your thoughts to a complete stranger. You had confided in him your desires and infiltrated another part of you that was closed off to everyone else. Hints of shame poked at him like needles. He took your trust and manipulated it, just to get to you.

But imagine it, he thought. Someone just as powerful as him, by his side, sharing the galaxy with one another. An unstoppable duo of chaos. Oh, how he would present you as his example of perfect creation. He couldn't lie when he said you were like starlight. In every bit you were, and Kylo would do whatever it took to burn you even brighter.

-

Trust no one, you were told by the Supreme Leader.

You paced in your room in complete silence, gathering your thoughts best you could. Whatever transpired in the Messenger stayed in the canals of your brain. After the revelation of “hope” with the Supreme Leader, there were unspoken instructions to keep the contents of the conversation completely hidden.

Whatever that was, felt fucking amazing.

For a split second, the world was at your fingertips, giving you the courage to do anything. Remnants still echoed in your body, which was why you were still up and moving at this late hour.

You took careful notice of every creak and sound outside your room. It wasn’t because of intruders or an assassin waiting in case of the discovery of your secret. Simply it was because of those closest to you.

As you boarded the transport back home, a careful thought process came into mind. For a fact, you knew that the minute you were out of sight and mind, Abie would ask almost immediately about the meeting.

“It was just an apology.” You lied. You feigned disgust easily, making sure not to hide your anger at all. Relief washed over as it easily brought Abie to thinking you spoke the truth. “What a waste of time. All that anxiety and fear for nothing.”

“You’re kidding me.” Abie breathed. “But hey, at least we’re in the clear, right?”

“Not exactly. I was told the colonel will stay to watch over for the Order. That and a guaranteed protection against the Resistance.” Now that part did hold some authenticity. Grateful for some truth to weave in your lies, you leaned back in your seat in fake defeat. “Regardless of our failure, did you have any perks of your mission?”

Out of his cloak, he pulled a minuscule black drive. “All in here. So far, I didn’t see any involvement of Naboo in the Order. Somehow, they’re true to their word as long as we keep our loyalty.”

“How gorgeous.” You muttered, holding out your hand. “In that case, I’ll just take a look and see if I can find anything. If not, I feel it shouldn’t be worth even mentioning to nobody. It just be another reminder of our shortcomings.”

Abie still held the drive in between his fingertips, his face confused. “Are you sure? Cause I feel like all of us should analyze it together-“

“I will not ridicule myself anymore than I have today!” You interrupted harshly. Boy, you were really selling it. Your poor guard shrunk back into himself at your outburst. “She sees any of that, we won’t hear the end of our miscalculations. I already have a headache, I don’t need another one.”

Solemnly he gave the drive to you. Snatching it out of his hand and tucking it away, you did feel some remorse for getting upset. Not giving an apology was uncharacteristic. Tipping block into telling another confidant of your demeanor could lead to the imminent revealment. The one time overthinking might save you in this situation.

“Abie, I’m-“ you sighed, opening your arms in defeat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset, I’m just-“ You clenched and unclenched your fists, imitating your frustration. “You know me. I hate losing.”

“As do I, (Y/n).” He replied softly, pulling at his uniform. “We just need some rest.”

You nodded, patting his hand in agreement. “Will you forgive me, my friend?”

“Always.” Abie flashed a brief assuring smile before sitting in solitude for the rest of the ride home.

Throughout your overthought dilemma, you tried to unmask your exact feelings for this. It was mixed in together in a concoction of emotions, which did no good. Why was it so hard to figure out what was exactly bothering your weary head? There was a root for every action, and you still didn’t know what it was. Throwing up your white flag, you came to the conclusion it was simply for the good of the people, but even saying that aloud didn’t feel right either. Maybe if you slept on it, you figured it out in the morning.

You constantly held out an ear for your next obstacle. Sara was far more in tune with deceit than Abie was. Her eyes would search your body for any indication of lying. A pull of the ear, quick blinking, looking away too quickly. What was once a gift could be a nightmare for you.

The soft rapping of knuckles on your door startled you, rendering you frozen in the spot. Running your diversion according to plan, you swooped into bed, snuggling under the covers to your chin.

“Come in.” You slurred, trying to mumble in your sleepiest voice.

Your door slid open, Sara walking in with her arms crossed. She took a quick look around the room before exhaling and sitting at your vanity. Blinking rapidly, you sat up.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

She shrugged. “More worried about you, my lady.”

Here we go.

“I’m just tired, that's all.” You flopped back down. Your comfort will bring her comfort, you thought.

“I’m hoping it's not because of the Supreme Leader doing anything to you.”

Fuck.

“If he would’ve done something to me, would I be here right now?” You asked, suddenly more awake. “I’m fine. Well I’m not because we’ve all been made fools, but in the long run, it's completely fine.”

Sara nodded, pursing her lips. You took immediate notice. The initial sign of her calling your bluff and thinking of exactly what to say next.

“I see that Sara and I know you think I’m lying, but I’m not.” You pointed at her. “I got an apology and was sent on my merry way. Not a finger on me.”

“Don’t believe it. Not for a second.”

“What do you not believe?” You asked loud and clear, voice laced with frustration. Stubbornness was a bitch. “Would char marks on my frozen dead body make more sense?”

“Yes it would.” She shot back, hands gripping the sides of your chair. “One doesn’t go up to a First Order ship and make it out without a scratch on them!”

“Well this one did.” You muttered, falling back on your headboard.

You never wanted a conversation to be more over in your entire life. Not simply of the accusation of being tampered with, just that you could only hold up a facade for so long. The twang of realizing that you were simply irked that you were lying to your closest friend rang through. This wasn’t a schoolyard fabrication. The larger scale of matters in any other case would have you running to her first to tell of the news.

You prayed in due time, she will understand. There was a small possibility of her fully forgiving your actions gave you some hope.

Getting up off the chair, Sara crept towards you on your bed. She hesitated for a second. Finally planting herself on the edge, she rubbed the sides of her forearms in reassurement.

“This is going deeper than just physical wounds, isn’t it?” You said, searching her wondering face.

“I know all about him.”

“As does the rest of the galaxy.”

“No, listen to me.” She grabbed your arm, her eyes bearing into you. “This thing is more than dangerous.”

You gulped, forearm aching as Sara’s grip grew tighter as she tried to muster her voice.

“Ren is a fallen Jedi. Do you know what happens when a Jedi turns?” She asked. “Their powers grow dark and use it only for their gain. They will do whatever it takes to satisfy their hunger.”

Is that what that was? You asked yourself. You could see why many turned to the dark side, it was addicting. You never felt more alive in your life than in that moment. Good stars, maybe you were blinded. A genuine punch of doubt came back. A new situation, but the same old mistakes.

“Now tell me again. Tell me that he didn’t do something to you.” She pleaded, desperately searching your face for an answer. “Please.”

How you wanted to tell her everything. Not once did you feel that you were really in danger with him, even when you were shown his gift. Maybe she’d understand…

“Your lady would not give herself in so easily.” You finally spoke, your eyes staring into hers. “I did not allow him to do something to me.”

After what seemed like an eternity, your best friend pulled you into a tight hold. The second her arms wrapped around your body, tears welled up. Here you were, in an embrace with the only person who stood by you through thick and thin. She was your shoulder to cry on, the one to run to when the crown came bearing down onto you. Only to stab her in the back by keeping this dirty little secret.

“You won’t ever lose me to anything, or anyone. Ever.” You whispered in her ear.

For the first time today, your words held truth, allowing you to pluck the thorn out of your side until tomorrow.

-

Today was the day.

Thankfully, someone had arranged a last minute engagement for the Queen and her handmaidens. Assistance to the monarchy could have its perks. With big bright eyes, you begged Abie to go with the party. Explaining that with his experience and your full turns in him, the monarch deserved the best of protection.

“You sound better today.” Abie said as he planted his guard cap and smoothed out the flats.

“I just want her to be with someone I know what they're doing.” You murmured as you pinned the crest of Naboo on the collar of his uniform. “Also I think you need a little break from me. I still feel guilty about the other day.”

He sighed. “Don’t be. I was going to ask you for an easy task, so this will do it.”

“Thank you.”

What safer place to be than a visit to the primary schools in Theed?

“I can’t thank you enough.” Alce breathed, flopping back in her chair as you did your morning check in with the Queen. “For once, I don’t dread the day.”

You chuckled. “Just saw the chance and I knew you had to have it.”

“Come with us, please.” Alce asked, putting her hands together in a prayer-like manner. “You deserve it as much as I do.”

“Duty calls, your majesty.” You shook your head, much to her disappointment. “My position dictates that I must argue and create unnecessary tensions in the palace.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does, says it right here.” You circled a finger around your face. The memory of hearing that whispered about your character was hurtful at the time, but all you could do now was laugh at it.

The Queen flashed a toothy grin. “Then tell me all about it when I get back, (Y/n).”

As you left the Queen’s private chambers, you felt the vibration of your holowatch of an incoming message. After surveying for surveillance, you snuck into an empty hallway and opened the message.

Operations will begin soon. Do not alarm yourself. Listen and follow orders.

- K.R.

That was a hard task to do, considering there would be a horrendous attack in Theed today. Closing the holowatch, you dropped your arms. You could feel the mini blaster pressed against your thigh as you walked. You weren’t stupid enough to come to a coup unarmed.

Roaming in the gardens, you overlooked the greenery with an odd sense of clarity. There was no one around to lie to, your guard completely down. Your hands trailed along the planted flowers, your fingertips memorizing the details of the petals. As you got up this morning, you decided to allow yourself a little pleasure before going into battle.

If you wanted to see beauty one last time, it would be here. Home. You made your way underneath a gazebo, admiring the engravings on the brick.

“Councilwoman (L/N).”

You turned around at the voice to see the Colonel approaching the gazebo at a glacial pace. “Good morning.”

She nodded, a bright look on her face. “Just wanted to have a small chat before the day’s activities, if that's alright.”

Trust no one.

“Of course. Have you been finding everything to your liking?” You asked, clasping your hand behind your back. The person that stood before Cate was just a woman, living and working like any other day. She definitely wasn’t having a hand in the uprooting of a government that survived far worse wars and destruction. No way she was.

“I take pleasure in expanding my travels, and by far, this has been the most beautiful.” She said. “When the Order gives such an opportunity, you must take it.”

You nodded. “Sadly, this is the only place that I really know. My reign didn’t go beyond the Sector before.”

“Then you must. Perhaps once the chaos settles down, a trip might be in the stars for you.” She claimed. “Just saying, you probably won’t have to worry about much after today.”

Subtlety could be a blessing. Playing dumb is also.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

She shrugged. “Just heard some new proposals and treaties may be under discussion.”

“If it did affect me to where I can get some time off, I’d be grateful.” You shot a polite smile. “One can get exhausted in the council.”

“I can relate. Nonstop interaction with our head of government has been…an experience to say the least.” She muttered. You wanted to laugh at how her face twisted in disgust.

“You'll never get used to it, I promise you.” You quipped back. You could have continued with your difficulty trying to understand Sillin, and the incredible control you have had to not strangle him earlier. “Has he said anything about me to you?”

She gave a small huff. “It’d be rude to hear it from my mouth.”

“Heard it, seen it.” You rolled your eyes. “One more won’t hurt.”

“Your back talk was noticeable, to say the least.” She replied. “Might I say, also inspiring.”

You were glad that at least one first impression was a success. “I really can’t sit down and watch myself be insulted anymore. Glad to say Colonel, I found my voice back after all this time.”

“Maybe you just needed a little push.” She pointed upwards to the sky, smirking. “He’s good at that.”

You raised your eyebrows. Now that really wasn’t subtle. “It felt more like a shove.”

“Sometimes that's what is needed to get the gears working.” She continued, looking around with careful glances.

Before you could reply, she stepped closer to you, her voice low. “When the takeover is playing out, you are to follow me to a safe location. The Supreme Leader will take care of the rest.”

“I can’t help?” You asked. You were shocked to hear you say that. But come on, who wouldn’t want to stick around and see someone get what they deserve?

She shook her head. “As desirable as it sounds, the Supreme Leader emphasizes your safety of most importance. Your security is a top priority for him.”

Whatever you do, do not blush, You thought. “I understand.”

“Good.” She finished.

“Question, had the Supreme Leader told you himself of my security?” You asked curiously, delighted in some sense of what he had exactly said about you.

“I’ll just say we did not get onto our main course of subject due to the rather extensive outline of your person. He was quite infatuated with it.”

Your cheeks burned, avoiding the Colonel’s gaze. “Ah, yes,” was all you could muster.

You heard thundering footsteps approaching, seeing a pair of the palace guards make their way into the garden.

“Apologies, but I’ve been informed that the council meeting is to start here soon.”

“Yes. Well, shall I walk you in?” She turned to you, smiling.

“I’d be honored.”

What seemed like a millenium had passed by in your chair, the meeting had just begun. Cate’s firm squeeze on your shoulder before taking her place in a chair by Sillin still echoed its print on you. Taking it as a way of her telling you of her watchful presence, you repeated her instructions once more as you waited. Tapping your foot ever so often, the soft echo of your heel calms you some.

You nodded your head slightly as you listened to the various members give another update pertaining to their position. It was the same old record that you heard every week. But then it dawned on you that this may be the last time that you would be in this room for another council meeting. Who's to say that everyone was going to still be in position, (or alive), after today?

In no way shape or form was this council equipped for an emergency. They always had to rely on someone else to do the saving for them, their only defense was to run or call for help. Good maker, this was going to be too easy.

“We are to note that her majesty is not here.” Sillin claimed aloud. “So I ask as to why her advisor is present and not with her?”

You cleared your throat. “We are practicing distancing for the time being to allow her majesty to expand on her skills with her people.”

Sillin scoffed, shrugging as he sat down. “A child speaking to children should be easy enough.”

Some of the council hummed in agreement, while others gave a chuckle.

“A first where she has no trouble today without her mentor.” The voice of Councilman Conter piped up. Of course Sillin’s pet would follow in his shadow.

“Another one of these and maybe we can have a glance of a proper head of state.” You heard someone whisper quite loudly. The audacity was too much to go without a few words being said.

“I've never seen a council so doubtful of their queen.” You voiced. “That’s a shame, but not surprising.”

The awkward silence came back into use. “I’m disappointed that our meetings are met with such hostility.” Sillin spoke.

“I can say the same.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page about something.” He said. “Otherwise, we will talk after this meeting.”

“No.”

The governor turned to look at you. “That was an order, not a request.”

“Oh I know. And I said no.”

This really was the point of no return, and there was no use for just jumping around what was going to happen. Might as well give in some last words before the inevitable. Conter’s face contorted in confusion, opening his mouth and then closing it.

“Have you no off button?” You heard voices from across the room from the gaggle of council women.

“How disrespectful.”

“A public apology should be issued immediately from Councilwoman (Y/N).” Councilman Mont proclaimed. The room clamored with sounds of concurrence, awaiting to hear what you had to say.

The Colonel looked upon the council with a blank stare. Her quick glances to you told a different story other than being a still statue that just conveyed action until her que for an intervention was approaching. You stared back, shrugging. Slowly standing up, you prepared yourself for an apology of sorts.

“Can anyone tell me the reasoning for a child monarch?” You began, holding your hands up. You were met with the fading reverb of your voice, not one person coming for your offer. “For those so worrisome about the state of our democracy and law, this baffles me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a faint smirk on the Colonel’s face.

“We all once held a wisdom and thinking that adults lacked. Without corruption or influence of the experienced. Our decision making came solely from the knowledge of what we had obtained in our short lifespan and what we believed was right and wrong.” You said. “Just our adolescent judgement that makes perfect sense.”

The echoing zooms of patrol ships sounded off faintly in the background. Thoughts and wishes jumbled in your brain, begging the Order to hold off until you were done with your speech.

“She is just a child. She’s not like you, full of selfishness and cruelty for the very people you promised to protect!” You snarled. “If we want to hear an apology, I want to hear it from all of you. And especially you, Governor.”

Sillin’s cheeks grew red with fury. For a brief moment, you converted back to the girl that was queen, cowering in her chair as she saw what was supposed to be her most trusted advisor rage at her because of a disagreement. The youthful anxiety made its return, but was quickly stomped with a mature need for revenge.

“My condolences will go to this council for suffering through your outbursts once more.” He began, gripping the handles of his seat. “It was pitiful to see an insect become a queen and a councilwoman at that, and now we have to hear it again.”

You nodded. The ships grew louder.

“And what's sad is that you’re not even doing a good job. If you were, maybe we would have some hope in our queen, instead of making the decisions for her.” He seethed. “Had it not been for your reputation, I would have made sure you were well out of our hairs a long time ago.”

The deep clank of cruisers landing didn’t deter your need to hear Sillin’s truth.

“I realize that we have two children on this council. The queen and you. Stupid little girls who still need to be babysat.” He muttered.

You crossed your arms, trying so hard not to show any emotion on your face. A familiar rush of power began to stream through your fingers and into your bones. There was no use in worrying about losing when you have already won.

You heard worrying clamor come from the council as some ran to the windows of the throne room. You didn't need to run over to know what they were seeing. In the midst of the chaos, Cate circled slowly around the chairs to behind yours, her arms stiff as she watched you in anticipation. The thundering footsteps of the First Order became louder in the palace, sending the room into full panic. The urgency to run was prevalent in your legs, but in full stubbornness, you just need to get the last word out.

“Thank you for your words, governor.” You said. “Its means a lot to me.”

My lady, its time to go.” Cate grabbed your arm, pulling you off.

Sillin’s eyes widened with a confused rage. “You…you-“

Zaps from blasters could be heard making contact with the marbled walls of the hallway. You were baffled at how quickly the Order was able to outnumber the Royal guard. If it meant that, then the guard in the throne room stood no chance.

The realization of sudden demise must have overcome the governor. Twisting his head wildly, he pushed back his fellow members at a chance of escape. As the rest of the entourage rushed behind him, bursting in was a gaggle of stormtroopers, guns at the ready. They jumped back, screaming as they hovered over them. A struggle ensued between the Royal guard, earning you and Cate enough time to get to a safer place.

Rushing behind a large pillar, the Colonel took her blaster from her holster. “We’re staying here until we have the all clear!”

That was going to be a while, since the blast doors finally gave into the assault.

A plume of smoke ascended up the grand staircases to the throne room, masking the rest of the intruding party. As the stormtroopers raced up the steps, the noise came to a halt. Mumbled prayers and whimpering from the council was all that bounced off the ugh walls of the room, an eerie stillness more frightening than the mayhem that just played out.

An explosive screech came to life, buzzing loudly. It cackled violently, almost like the physical sound of electricity traveling through a current. The air grew heavy, the tension weighing down.

Thud…

Thud.

Thud.

That was one way to make an entrance. There was no doubt in your mind who it was by the audible reaction from the council. The hum of Ren’s lightsaber grew closer to your and Cate’s location. You dared yourself to take a peek from behind your pillar to get a look.

“Don’t.” Cate pulled you back, pressing you firmly against the stone. You shook your head, wiggling out of her grasp. Peeking around the corner, there he was.

In all of his glory, Kylo Ren stood masked in all black, watching all through his empty, soulless visor.

“I sense your apprehension.” The vocoder rumbled.

“But do not be afraid. My business is not with you.” He said, pointing out his saber to the prettified corner of people. “I only come for one person.”

A few more steps and you heard the startled yelps from Sillin, who was dragged from his hiding place and in front of the throne. His body was pulled by an invisible force, yanking himself up into the air.

“You are the one I want.” Ren muttered almost amusingly.

“P-please, m-my lord, I d-don’t know how I offended you, but I-I’m sorry trust me I am, please spare my life-“

Choked gasps quickly silenced Sillin, his feet kicking. You wouldn't believe your eyes for a second to see someone overcoming Sillin in such a way. In any other case, you’d feel sorry for the poor soul that crossed Ren’s path.

“Let me make this idiot a prime example of what is to come, if you stand in the Order’s way.” Kylo said aloud, walking to the council. His hand did not waver as he moved in closer. “By all means, if you would like to defend his excellency in any way, please do so now.”

They shrunk back into their shells, avoiding eye contact and a one way ticket for certain torture. Or death.

“I didn’t think so.” He muttered, dropping Sillin. His body plopped on the ground, desperately reaching for air in the process. You were so enamored by the scene that was shown before you, you completely forgot about your hiding place and how Cate had been trying to get you out of the palace.

“My lady, it is time to go.” She whispered harshly, hoping for Ren’s focus to just be on the governor. You slowly walked back, stumbling a bit.

“I-i will not go down without a fight. T-these walls have stood for many centuries and will continue standing, even if your wretched kind are here!” Sillin heaved, gritting his teeth.

“You are so right. These walls will still be here.” Kylo circled him. “But you won’t.”

As Sillin roared with all his might, his anticipated attack on Ren was in vain. Not a finger was laid on Ren as the governor was thrown into a pillar, crumbling on the ground. He slowly got on his knees, attempting to push himself back up.

“I applaud you for trying so hard.” Kylo scoffed. “But I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

He picked him up by the nape of his tunic, dragging him once more across the floor. In a puddle, Sillin looked up at Ren, his mouth agape in horror. The red hot blaze of his weapon came to life once more, ready to take another life by its blade. The sight of it enticed you to continue watching, the tugging from Cate and her order for you to retreat becoming drowned out. The heat could be felt on your skin, bringing warmth in a cold-blooded moment brought by yours truly.

Cocking his shoulder back, Ren swung the saber over his head for the final blow. Sillin’s eyes closed shut, wincing as he anticipated his death.

He stopped.

Like a statue, Ren stood still in his spot. You heard him click the button of his saber, the blade retracting back into its hilt.

You blinked in confusion. What was he doing?

The focus of the room turned to the direction of the pillar you were supposed to be hiding behind. The only way you knew of this was the expression on Cate's face, which was twisted in dismay at her failed objective.

“She’s still here.” Ren said blankly.

Cate nodded, her chest heaving as she waited to hear what was in store next for you and her. “Yes sir.”

“Let me see her.”

You stumbled out, that confidence you had thrown out the window. It wasn’t a matter of embarrassment at the exposure of your “betrayal”, but of not listening like you were supposed to and being roped in with the rest of them.

“Come here.” Kylo held out his palm. “Please.”

His voice. Soft and gentle, barely heard above his vocoder. Sounding like a boy coaxing his pet to his side with kind words. Speaking alluringly, you almost did want to join him in an instant. But your mind told you otherwise.

Sensing your hesitation, the leather palm of his hand flipped around in a grabbing motion. Scrunching his fingers, your feet were trailing along the floor towards Ren. Planting you by his side, you watched his every move as he trudged behind you. Breathing heavily, you balled your fists as you remained still.

“It wouldn’t feel right for me to do this all on my own.” He announced. You searched around, a sense of guilt panged your gut. The deception you had led on was being revealed by the council at this moment, now coming to terms that you had something to do with this mess.

“This man personally has not done anything to me. I wouldn't care if he lives or dies in other circumstances. But her?” Ren pointed to you. “You’re all witness to it.”

You felt the heat of Ren’s chest pressed against your back, his black clothed arms wrapping themselves around your body. Your face was burning as his right hand grabbed a hold of your wrist benevolently, trailing his leathered fingertips in between the indents of your knuckles and through your digits. You could feel his gaze watching your reaction to his touch, tilting his head as he opened your covered hand.

You recoiled in dread as Kylo delicately placed his lightsaber hilt in your hand, carefully closing it around the hilt right underneath the trigger. He enclosed himself around you completely.

“I-it doesn’t feel right.” You stuttered out, gratefully regretting the choices you had made up to this moment.

“But it is.” He whispered in your ear, pushing your thumb over the ignition button lightly. “Put your trust in me again.”

The line of fear of the unknown and the anticipation of the aftermath was blurring tremendously. In your state of righteousness and having good intentions for others, you realized that all of this time was the need for vengeance.

That was the bottom line. Vengeance on those who tore you down, who made you feel so small. This was the take back, your upper hand. The flames ignited. Your target was focused. “I trust you.”

You heard the lilt of enjoyment in Kylo’s voice. “Then let me help you.”

Pressing the hilt against the forehead of Sillin, you stared down in an unheard glee. “Any last words, governor?”

“W-why?” Sillin asked, voice hoarse.

“So that her face is the last you see.”

The button was pressed. Sillin jolted as the blade shot though him, the look of unbridled terror evident. Cracked groans emitted from him as Kylo forced the blade further into his head. The ignition button was pushed once more, all orifices retracting back. Sillin dropped on his side, the seared hole in his head still sizzling.

The screams from the room meant nothing to you. The feeling of coldness didn't bother you.

You finally got what you wanted. And no one could take that away from you.

#fanfiction #star wars #kylo ren #ben solo #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren headcanons #the last jedi #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagines #kylo ren trash #kylo ren smut #kylo fanfic #kylo ren angst #ben solo deserved better #adam driver #force awakens #rise of skywalker

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #steve rogers angst

[spacestationdaedalus]

when my demons won’t let me be

or: not in his right state of mind, Jon accidentally compels Martin. It’s not okay, but it’s okay.

or or: i spend so much time reading sick fic and i finally wrote one of my own angst and plenty of hurt/comfort, warnings for canon-typical compulsion and descriptions of panic and disassociation

Martin wakes to a shifting of weight and a cut off breath. It's a hazy half-awareness, coming to him under a snowdrift, on a radio station drowning in dull static.

In a well-practiced motion, Martin extends an arm over the covers to rest on Jon's chest. He doesn't let the full weight fall, not yet. Enough for Jon to know he's there, a touch light enough that Jon can readily push away or lean into. It depends on the particular brand of nightmare, the terror that's chosen to follow him to sleep. Sometimes he sets Martin's arm aside with a gentle squeeze, sitting up against the headboard and taking comfort in the cool bedroom air and the sound of Martin's breathing. At least, in Jon's own words. Other times, he holds Martin's arm to his chest, taking comfort in the weight and warmth of it.

Neither of those things happen, though.

Jon rolls sharply, seemingly ignoring Martin's arm in favor of the other side of the bed. He curls around himself with a low whine, harshly cut off in the back of his throat.

"J'n?" Martin props himself up on one arm. Voice rough with sleep, but no less concerned.

Jon shifts, a back and forth movement that looks like it could be the shaking of his head. His shoulders are taut and trembling. He makes another sound that could be the beginning of a shout, and it brings Martin to full awareness. He moves his hands to Jon's shoulder before he has time to think, desperate to help, to comfort, to something.

"Jon, it's alright-"

“Don’t touch me!” Jon bursts out, dripping and full of static and oh oh oh. It cascades over Martin’s mind, oily and slick. His hands pull away like they've been burned, but numb and far off. As though belonging to a stranger.

He shifts away from Jon and off of the bed, limbs moving robotically to pull back the covers, to move him away until his back meets the bedroom wall. Martin's hands are raised halfway, frozen in a caricature of comfort. A puppet on strings. He wants to move, shout, anything. But the gaze of eyes he can’t see bears down on him, an insurmountable weight holding him in place. Like a butterfly pinned inside a glass display case.

Jon is sitting up, now. Eyes (eyes, eyes, he's all eyes) blown wide, bright and glassy even in the low light of the room. His breathing is ragged and uneven in obvious panic. Even with his hands clenched tight in the front of his nightshirt, Martin can see they’re trembling. Martin’s heart aches and he wants to help but he can’t move and Jon’s eyes are still on him and he can’t breathe and it hurts. And he's afraid. He can hear his pulse pounding in his ears, the eyes are still watching him and it feels so much like burning paper and righteous anger and Elias's face and everything Martin had been trying to forget.

Jon brings up a hand to cover his mouth. Horror and panic clear in his eyes, which Martin knows are reflected in his own. Then Jon backs away, clearly unsteady on shaking legs. Martin's vision starts to blur (when was the last time he blinked?) but he hears Jon's steps fade into the hall. And Martin can do nothing.

The back of Martin's mind still using logic was hoping the feeling would fade once Jon wasn't looking at him. Unfortunately, Martin is used to being proven wrong. Face blank, body rigid, mind screaming.

Autonomy comes back to him slowly, a tingling in his fingertips that trickles down his arms and leaves an awful shakiness in its wake. Nerves making up for lost time, maybe. Trying to catch up with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A grip Martin wasn't aware of begins to loosen from around his ribcage, and his first real breath in ages is a shuddering gasp. The force of it combined with the jelly replacing his knees sends him sliding to the floor, using the wall for support.

Martin breathes. In. Out. The first breath is molten in his lungs. His eyes water against it, and the second one is even worse. The third leaves as a sob that echoes back at him. In one last betrayal of his body against him, the tears spill over to drip down his cheeks. Martin rests his forehead against his knees and wills himself not to fall apart.

The Lonely was easy, in that regard. For months, Martin didn't have to worry about this kind of thing - the fear and anger and gaping misery that had been following them for so long. But evidently suppressing your trauma with more trauma wasn't a healthy coping mechanism. Go figure.

Leaving the Lonely was hard. Martin had spent most of the first 48 hours oscillating wildly between numb detachment and emotion so overwhelming he thought he would drown in it. Jon helped. He was patient, gentle, all the things Martin thought were too good to be true.

Martin forces himself up as soon as he's able. Maybe sooner, given the way the room sways when he stands. But it passes after a moment, and Martin goes to find Jon.

The house is dark. The occasional creak from the pipes and floors could be off-putting, but compared to everything else, it's benign. He uses fingers brushed against the wall to guide him down the short hallway.

"Jon?" He calls. The floor creaks in response.

Martin reaches the threshold between the hall and the kitchen. The haze of the moon behind thin clouds bleeds through the window above the sink, providing just enough light to see. Martin catches a shadow out of the corner of his eye, but it isn't actually a shadow, and Martin lets himself feel a hint of temporary relief.

Jon is tucked in the corner between two cabinets. Head buried against his bent knees, hands gripping into his hair in a position that mirrors Martin's from mere moments ago. Martin's heart leaps into his throat.

"Oh, Jon." Martin kneels in front of him, slow as to not startle him. If Jon notices, he makes no sign of it.

"Jon?" Martin reaches, but stops halfway. He doesn't want a repeat of before. His palm itches, but he keeps it airborne. Until he knows it's okay.

Jon makes a sound in the back of his throat, one that Martin hasn't heard before. His next inhale is strained and wet and - oh. 

Martin had never seen Jon cry before. Angry, upset, shaken, sure. But not this. It twists something awful and thorny in his chest. Martin wants to hug him, but he keeps the few inches between them.

"Don't-" Jon starts suddenly, and for an awful moment the hairs on the back of Martin's neck stand up on end. But Jon cuts himself off with a keening noise, and curls further into himself. His shoulders are trembling, either from holding back sobs or the biting chill of the poorly-insulated kitchen floor, Martin can't be sure. Probably both.

"I-I'm sorry-" Jon stutters, sounding like each word is a fight to get out. "I-I-I don't - I don't know…"

"Just breathe, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head against his legs. "N-no, you need to-" A sob cuts him off.

"Need to what, love?" The term of endearment slips out naturally on Martin's tongue. If Jon notices, he doesn't say so.

"Leave." The last word crackles slightly in the air, like static electricity threatening a shock. Martin freezes. The compulsion threatens to overtake him, but it's weaker than before. It rings in his skull, and Martin fights it back until it fades to background noise.

Jon whispers, barely audible. "I can't - I can't control it."

Oh.

"Alright, alright…" Martin bites his lip for a moment. Nods to himself.

"Okay, let's just - I'll ask you yes or no questions for now. You can, ah - just nod for yes and shake your head for no. Is that alright?"

Jon's face is still hidden, but that's alright. After a moment, he nods enough for Martin to discern the movement.

"G-good, okay-" Martin pauses, not immediately sure what question to go with first.

"Did you have a nightmare, earlier? Is that what scared you?" Martin silently chides himself for asking two questions, but hopefully it won't matter.

Jon nods.

"Has this happened before? The, uh-" Martin makes a hand motion, but Jon can't see it. "Th-the 'not being able to control the compulsion,' thing?"

There's a pause, then Jon shakes his head. Martin frowns.

"Alright, that's alright. Do you think you can look at me?"

Another pause, longer. Martin doesn't press as the seconds pass. Then Jon slowly raises his head.

Jon's eyes are wide, rimmed with red and dark circles more pronounced than they had been in the last few days. Tears are steadily dripping down his cheeks, flushed dark against his complexion. His lips are pressed tightly together, and Martin can see the barely contained panic mingled with exhaustion in every line of his face.

"Hey." Martin greets, feeling like a small victory. Jon quickly casts his gaze down and to the side, not meeting Martin's eyes. He also moves his hands to wrap around his torso, shivering harshly against the cabinets. Martin frowns again. He racks his brain for the seemingly mundane moments from the previous day. Jon talking less as the day had gone on, his less-than-already-finnicky appetite, going to bed early because he said he was a bit tired. Nothing individually out of the ordinary, not after the hell they'd dragged themselves through just to get here. But-

"Jon, is it alright if I touch you?"

Jon nods almost immediately, but still avoids Martin's eyes. Encouraged, Martin moves carefully to press the back of his hand against Jon's cheek. It's warm - hot, even - to the touch. Martin checks his forehead for good measure, feeling the heat before their skin actually makes contact. Martin's winces in sympathy, moving his hand back to Jon's cheek. He uses both hands, for good measure, to cup Jon's face, and wipe the stray tears still dripping from his lashes.

"Oh, love. You're burning up." Martin says, gently. "That must have something to do with it."

Jon's brow furrows. He brings his own hand up to his face, seemingly to try and feel his own temperature. Martin can't help the quiet laugh.

"First let's get off the floor. 's not exactly comfortable, yeah?" Martin offers. 

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Martin's heart leaps into his throat. "Oh, hey, hey-"

Jon's words are muffled by his hands, and broken up by harsh, jagged sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I didn't-"

Martin moves forward slightly so he can wrap his arms around Jon. He can feel the shivers wracking Jon's frame, and the heat radiating off of him in waves. Martin tucks Jon's head under his chin, and holds him.

"Hey, it's okay." And it's not a lie. Martin was scared - terrified, to put it lightly. He knows he can't just brush that fear away. But he's not scared of Jon, never has been, never will be. And Martin know Jon, knows him and loves him and knows that he loves him back. Martin thinks that this might be more complicated than that, but right now, with Jon coming apart on the kitchen floor, it feels that simple.

"I know you didn't mean to, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head weakly in protest. Martin can't make out his exact words, jumbled as they are. But he feels the intent behind them, with the way they reverberate in his chest.

"We can talk about it later, when you're feeling better. But I'm not mad, I promise." Martin runs a hand through Jon's hair. It might have been a braid when Jon first went to bed, but it's mostly undone now. "Right now, I'm just worried about you. That's a nasty fever you're running."

They stay like that for a few minutes more. Jon's form is still a trembling leaf in Martin's arms, shallow and uneven breaths punctured by the occasional apology and stifled cry. Jon's forehead is pressed into his neck, burning like a furnace against Martin's skin.

Martin almost asks Jon if he can walk, but instead-

"Jon, is it alright if I pick you up?"

Jon tenses, and Martin immediately regrets asking. But then Jon nods affirmative, relaxing slightly into Martin's hold. Oh thank god.

Jon fits easily into the bends of Martin's arms, one at his back and one under his knees. Jon's hands clench the front of Martin's shirt, tightening and loosening in an uneven rhythm as Martin stands. It's easy for Martin to carry him the short distance to the bedroom, mindful of the narrow door frames.

The quilt and sheets are pulled back from before, which is helpful now. Martin eases Jon onto the bed. He brushes Jon's hair away from his face in what Martin hopes is a comforting gesture. But Jon still has that faraway, panicky look in his eyes, and Martin has an idea.

"Don't move, alright? I'll be right back, I promise." Martin presses a kiss to Jon's forehead, hoping he heard and understood enough of that to not mind when he leaves the room.

Martin comes back with a damp cloth and a glass of water. And a bottle of pain reliever - one that Martin had originally picked up from the store as an afterthought, but is grateful for now. He sets the glass and bottle on the nightstand and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. Next to Jon, who hasn't so much as shifted in Martin's admittedly brief absence. Martin lays a hand on Jon's shoulder, but after a moment, moves to Jon's cheek. An olive branch to Jon's clouded awareness.

"Alright, love. I'm gonna lay this on the back of your neck, okay? Can you lean forward a touch for me?" 

Jon doesn't move or otherwise react for a moment, and Martin is almost sure he didn't hear it. But then he pitches forward slightly, and Martin shifts so he can support Jon's weight against his shoulder. He brushes Jon's loose curls to the side, letting his fingers linger there for good measure.

"It's gonna feel really cold, but it'll help. Easy," Martin murmurs, placing the folded cloth on the back of Jon's neck. Jon flinches at the touch, hissing between a groan and a whimper. 

"I know, I know." Martin soothes easily, adding other words of comfort here and there, lost to his memory as soon as they cross his lips. He holds Jon close, taking the chance to comb his fingers again through Jon's bed-moussed hair. He knows Jon likes having his hair played with, so Martin ever so gently works his way through some of the tangles, careful never to pull too hard or too fast. Jon's breaths slow and deepen - still marred by the occasional hitch, but a vast improvement from before. He gradually sinks more of his weight onto Martin's shoulder, until Martin is sure he's the only reason Jon is still upright. But Martin doesn't mind.

"Better?" Martin asks, when Jon's trembling passes and his breaths sound less like someone on the verge of drowning. Jon clears his throat.

"I- yes." He rasps, hardly a whisper. The word pulls a cough out of him, but he keeps going. "Th- thank you."

"Of course." Martin says. He all but beams at the sound of Jon's voice, wretched as it sounds. He considers making tea, but something about the bonelessness of Jon's posture tells him Jon won't be awake long enough to see a cup finished. But he does grab the glass of water from the nightstand, and shifts so Jon can take it in both hands.

"Drink some of that for me." Martin presses, and Jon doesn't argue. Martin reaches for the pain reliever next, shaking two pills out and handing them to Jon. He seems surprised at first, but quietly offers a thank you as he takes them from Martin's hand.

"How are you feeling?" Martin asks. It feels like a stupid question, but one of those stupid questions that you just have to ask in lieu of anything else.

"I'm-" Martin knows Jon is about to say I'm alright and something in his face must stop Jon from finishing, because he cuts himself off with a sigh. He presses the heel of his palm into his eye, suppressing a wince. "To - to be honest, uh, quite terrible."

The frankness of it could almost be funny, but Martin's heart aches instead. "I'm sorry. The medicine should help, at least."

Even without his glasses, Martin can make out the two in the hour place of the digital clock on the nightstand, and yeah, it's time for bed.

"And some proper sleep."

Jon nods, eyelids heavy. Martin takes the half-empty glass from his hand, and encourages Jon to lie back with a gentle push. Martin joins him on the other side of the bed, pulling the covers back over the two of them. He leans, partially sitting up against the headboard, inviting Jon into the place at his side if he wants it.

Jon fills the space immediately, burrowing his face into Martin's shoulder. Arms curled in front of him, pressed into Martin's side. He sighs softly. Martin watches the last of the tension bleed out of Jon's face, eyes closed. Jon's fever leaves Martin's side overly warm in minutes, but Martin can't bring himself to mind.

He's sure Jon is already asleep, but-

"M-rtin?"

"What is it, Jon? Do you need something?"

Jon makes a negative sound into Martin's shoulder, shaking his head. It's quiet for a moment, save for their breathing.

"I love you."

Martin freezes, and the response comes as naturally as an inhale after an exhale.

"I love you too."

#the magnus archives #tma #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #tma fics #my writing #i have not proofread this but i'm also proud of it pls forgive me

[sidespromptblog]

Locked

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Logan is insecure, Crying (Almost), and Angst. 

Summary: After Patton skips him, Logan locks himself away in his room as the doubts about their friendship start to overwhelm him. Why had Patton done that? Had he wanted to do it all along? Was it just better this way? Should he just stop talked? Should he just...

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 3305

The door slammed shut much harder than he had meant for it to, but be that as it may… Logan couldn’t bring himself to care about that as he sank heavily into the chair next to his desk. Tossing his glasses onto his desk, he held his face in his hands trying desperately to calm the shaking that started in his shoulders and traveled all the way through his entire body. He wasn’t crying, but right now he honestly wished that he could at least get that kind of relief right now. Instead, there was only a deep well of sadness that only seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing moment, he didn’t like it. At least with tears, it was only temporary, but this feeling… it felt like it could go on forever. 

“It’s not fair…” Logan couldn’t help but to whisper in a way that almost sounded like a whimper, his bottom lip trembled uncontrollably, and yet no tears. “Why.. he…” He honestly could not believe what Patton had done this time, he’d already expected it from Roman when he had chosen ignorance over Logan informing him. But for Patton to… to just let Janus come in and pull him out and replace him, just because he didn’t want to listen to him. Patton… who had seemed so worried when Janus had first taken his place before. “It’s not fair…” He repeated with a mumble, as he dragged his fingers through his hair messing up his usually neat and presentable hair. 

He didn’t care right now, now was not the time to be neat and presentable. 

He could allow himself this at least, to dwell in this.. this...

Betrayal.

Yes, that was an apt term for what had happened between him and Patton. Whether the other side chose to acknowledge it or not, Patton had… betrayed his trust as well as his feelings by choosing to silence him. Ordinarily, he could understand that due to heightened emotions Patton could do weird things, but it was the fact that when he had chosen to confront him about it in front of Thomas he had… tried to do damage control. Which as responsible as that sounded, only made him feel as if he were like a child being placated, and like he didn’t deserve an apology for what had been done. 

Did he though? 

Doubt curled its ugly unease around Logan, making him slump even more in the chair as he ran his hands back over his face before eventually just covering up his eyes. He knew that he could be a lot to handle sometimes, and that his many many facts could sometimes be annoying to handle well all of the time if their reactions were anything to go by. Oftentimes his input wasn’t exactly wanted, especially when it came to things with emotion. Even things involving stuff like philosophy or psychology seemed boring for the others, more so when it seemed to come from him of all sides. Even his history facts… 

But Patton had always assured him that he wanted to hear him. 

The doubt in his mind grew stronger, “Was he…” The word lying stuck on his tongue like a barb, as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. For the first time since he’d come back to his room, tears welled up in his eyes misting over everything in sight. 

It didn’t make him feel any better. 

He probably was. 

After all, if Patton had lied about his own emotions multiple times then there was no reason to assume that he hadn’t lied about things like this to all of them. It wasn’t wrong to assume that… he perhaps didn’t even like him, or maybe even that.. that he had just been humoring Logan until he grew too annoyed to bother putting up with him anymore. That he had finally reached his breaking point, and Logan just so happened to be the kind and cheerful side’s breaking point. It wasn’t an impossible thing to assume, but after Patton had dealt with both Remus and Janus… for Logan to be his breaking point kind of hurt more than a little. 

Was he really so unlikable? 

Probably…

God, why hadn’t he listened before when the others had told him to shut up? Probably his pride, he was too arrogant and far too self-absorbed. 

And he had called Roman conceited…

Logan raked his fingers through his hair again, tangling his messy hair even further. “Maybe I should just start being quiet…” He muttered dourly, even though deep down… he knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Just being quiet wouldn’t work considering the damage he’d already done to everyone around him. “Maybe I sh-”

A quick series of knocks pattered on Logan’s door, and just as quickly as it had started the words quickly died in the logical side’s throat. 

“Logan.” Janus’ cool and calm voice called from the other side of the door, he couldn’t have been standing more than a few inches away from the wood that separated them. It was just one word and his name at that, it shouldn’t have been so startling. And yet, despite that calmness that always seemed to accompany Janus’ tone, Logan couldn’t help but to detect… something else. “Logan, may I come in?”

It was... worry?

Even so, Logan fought the urge to sigh heavily at the request. Here, was the one person who had not only taken his place at Patton’s unspoken and unsaid request… but the person who seemed to delight in calling him out on all of the lies that he constantly told himself. He wasn’t exactly the kind of person that Logan really wanted to have over for tea, much less invite him into his room when he was already feeling vulnerable and on the verge of tears. But… it wasn’t like he could deny the request, should someone need him he was always to be there for them. Whether it be someone like Janus, or one of the other sides he had grown up around. He was to be there for them, and to offer them logical assistance. And maybe Janus needed that.

Or to just rub it in his face about how Patton had chosen to have lies rather than the truth. 

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.” Deceit smirked at Logan in that knowing way of his, as if he knew that further down the line of what was to come. Or maybe because he just knew of the lies that constantly rattled off of Logan’s tongue, or the lies that just stayed inside his head constantly tormenting him. 

“Logan?” 

Another sigh rattled out of the side in question, before he painstakingly combed his tangled hair back with his fingers in an effort to get some kind of neatness back before Janus could see. 

“Do what you want Janus,” Logan called out from his desk, turning back to it to give the semblance that he had been doing some kind of work. His desk was a mess though, there would be no getting that past Janus. He attempted to neaten up a little, his shaking fingers plucking up different papers as he organized them into little stacks that hardly felt as organized as he wanted it to be. Although the light trembling of his entire body certainly didn’t help manners any, his inner turmoil certainly hadn’t gone away just because Janus had shown up. “Come in.” He muttered, half expecting the other side to just have left at the sound of the attitude clearly ringing in Logan’s voice. 

But hearing the sound of the knob of his door turning before it creaked open made the logical side turn his head a little, the streak of light from the hallway made his eyes burn a little. Although that could have just been from the fact that he had forgotten to put his glasses back on in his haste, as well as the fact that his eyes had been completely adjusted to the darkness of his own bedroom. 

But even so, there Janus stood. With his caplet draped casually over his arm and his head held in his hands, letting Logan see his smooth wavy hair that stuck up from the friction of his hat. His gloves had even been tucked away into the back pocket of his pants, letting Logan get the tiniest glimpse of the scales that gleamed like glass on his wrists. He looked…

Casual. 

Suspiciously so. 

If he hadn’t been before then the smile that came from the other most certainly sealed it. “Thank you for seeing me,” Janus carefully said as he walked from the door to Logan’s bed. Tossing his caplet onto the blankets Janus took a seat without even bothering to ask, instead just crossing his legs as he stared back at the logical side for a good long moment. “I was worried that you wouldn’t for a moment, or that you’d just turn me away… I wouldn’t blame you.” 

“Why?” 

Janus blinked at the question, “Because I took your place to-” 

“I mean why are you here right now?” Logan didn’t feel that bad about interrupting him, if anything he almost deserved it after how he had been interrupted today. “There’s no logical reason for you to be. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” He’d hurt him, or in the very least he’d assisted Patton in hurting him. That skip button hadn’t come out of nowhere, and neither had that cane that had hooked him. 

But then again… maybe Janus had sensed what Patton secretly wanted but couldn’t say to Logan. Janus had always known the secrets that they’d all kept hidden, and… Patton not liking him and wanting him to just shut up was something that Janus could most certainly help with now as well as in the future. Janus even made logical arguments, so it wasn’t a stretch to say that he could even deliver some arguments in a way that wouldn’t bore the others too. Patton… 

Patton even seemed to like him. 

Janus cleared his throat, and just like that Logan’s mind had been dragged back to the present. 

“I just wanted to let you know,” Janus slowly began, as he fidgeted with the hat in his hands. “That I’m not good at this whole… being a vulnerable and truthful person kind of thing, but you deserve... to know the truth.” Janus lamely finished, looking like he was going to say something else before finally ending his words. “It’s not easy, especially since I’m so used to lying all of the time. But…” 

Logan just stared back tiredly, wondering when it would all be over so that he could just bury himself in work and sleep, so that he could forget this whole day ever happened to begin with. 

“Your doubts and your fears about Patton are unfounded.” Janus finally snapped, the words coming out in one massive rush as if in fear of waiting any longer would stop them from coming at all. But even so, it didn’t stop the emotions that were clearly shining in the dishonest side’s face. As he gripped his hat tighter and tighter, until his knuckles had turned white.  “He does not find you annoying, because you are not annoying. He does not want your silence.” 

I don’t want your silence. 

The words were unspoken, and yet Logan heard them all the same. 

But it still did little to alleviate the pain that had already sunk deep in his chest, while it was nice that Patton apparently felt this way… actions had more a louder call than words did. And Patton’s actions… they stung like a slap to the fact that would bruise for months to come, and even so.. even then he wasn’t sure he could trust that Patton wouldn’t do it again. 

It had hurt. 

A tired sigh fell from his lips, “Is it you or Patton that’s saying that?” He finally asked, as he finally allowed his shoulders to droop from the exhaustion he had felt from the day. There was no hiding his emotions from Janus, the side could see through whatever front he put up effortlessly, so there was no point in hiding anymore…

There never really was. 

A mixture of emotions darted over Janus’ face, “Both… both of us Logan.” He softly whispered, the look of regret and sorrow unfolding as his gaze took in all of the emotions that were freely being shown on the logical side’s face. “I’m sorry…” He honestly said, agony curling into him like a white-hot fire as Logan closed his eyes at the simple two-letter words that had left the dishonest side’s mouth. 

“Clearly,” Logan began, not callously but logically. “Otherwise I doubt you would have made the effort to come here. But…” He took in a deep breath, steadying himself for what he was about to say. “It changes nothing.” He had to put his foot down, at least this one time… he was tired of this, so very tired. “I am tired Janus, I am tired of what keeps happening to me. I had learned to accept it from some of the others at this point, as just ‘teasing’. But this… this is the last straw for me.” It hurt to say, but.. but he had to take care of himself first before he could even think about what Patton’s actions might’ve meant if it didn’t mean he was annoyed with him. “I am taking this for myself.” 

There was a moment of silence between them, and when Logan finally opened his eyes he didn’t really see what he had expected to see from Janus. Maybe some anger, some more worry, or even some annoyance at the way that Logan had chosen to go. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to react to the calm understanding that was reflected back in Janus’ eyes, as if… it had been something that the serpentine side was acutely familiar with. 

But even so, Janus slowly nodded. “Are you going to duck out?”  He carefully asked.

Logan couldn’t fault him for the question, it was a very valid one especially considering that Virgil had done the same exact thing months prior. But that wouldn’t solve anything, it would just be running away and waiting for the others to chase after him and show him that they care after so long of… everything. And while it was tempting and so very.. very nice sounding… he wouldn’t do that to them. Seeing how Thomas had been affected by Virgil’s absence had been enough to assure himself that even if he had the opportunity to, he wouldn’t. It wouldn’t solve the baseline problem anyways.

It would just make the others feel guilty about boundaries that they didn’t know existed for Logan. 

“No,” He easily answered, and he watched as Janus relaxed clearly sensing the lack of a lie in Logan’s statement. “I will continue to do my work as Thomas’ logic, and be good at it. But.. I am tired, and…” He looked over to the messy stacks of papers on his desk that he had tried to organize before Janus had come in, there was so much he needed to clean and work on. “I think that I need some time away from the others, and… some time to think about myself and how I stand with them.” Logically he knew.. he knew that they had never done anything out of any pure malice or hateful intent. Logan was just… well he was weird and he was odd at times, so there was no reason for them not to comment on it. Especially since he’d never told them not to, he should have put up clear boundaries of what he was okay with and what he wasn’t. But even so…

It didn’t stop the hurt. 

A chilly hand squeezed his own, and looking down to his lap Logan saw that Janus had reached across the distance to bridge the gap between them. “Take however long that you need to,” Janus murmured, although knowing entirely that he had no say in the matter. “I am glad that you are taking this, and doing this.” Logan would never see him making a fuss about taking some self-preservation for himself, more of the sides needed to do what Logan was doing. Better late than never, anyways. “I wish you the best of luck, and…” As Janus stood from his spot at Logan’s bed, making his way towards the door. He stopped as soon as he laid his hair on the brass doorknob. “I hope that when you come back, I can make a better opportunity at being your friend.”  

With that being said, Janus opened the door and walked out leaving Logan to his rest. The hammering of his heart had quieted almost as soon as the lies that had been surrounding Logan’s mind had faded into nothingness. He had been scared for a moment, that Logan would duck out just as Virgil did, but this time they’d have a much harder time of getting Logan back. 

He hadn’t been the only one that was worried. 

“Is he okay?” Patton softly asked from the couch, the stuffed animal that was being squeezed to death in his arms told Janus just how worried the moral side really was even if he was trying to remain calm. “Should I go up there and talk to him?” Patton fidgeted with the strings of sleeves of his cat hoodie, his leg bouncing up and down as he glanced towards the stairs that Janus had just walked down. 

He stilled as soon as Janus raised his hand to stop him. “He is fine right now,” The dishonest side said, as he sat beside Patton comfortably. “But I wouldn’t suggest going to see him, he’s…” Janus struggled to find a way to word it delicately enough to get the feelings across, but without hurting Patton too much in the process. “He was very hurt by your actions, and it’s not a feeling that I think is going to go away anytime soon. You showing up and trying to apologize when he’s not ready… it’s just going to make him feel that hurt so much worse.” Putting his hand on Patton’s shoulder, Janus looked back at the other side’s guilty look. “ I understand your guilt, but showing up before he’s ready will just make him draw away from you even more. Trust me I know this much about forgiveness…” Images of Virgil’s distrustful sneers flashed in his mind, and Janus couldn’t help but to wince at the pain that crackled over his heart. It was always better to wait than to say something you couldn’t take back, because you didn’t wait. “I don’t think he’ll be ready for a while, and I think yo-... We all need to be prepared to wait until he’s ready to come out, not us going to him. ”

As depressed as Patton looked at the prospect of leaving one of the others to stew in their own mental torment, he nodded. 

“Okay,” Patton sadly said as he hugged the stuffed animal in his arms tighter, “You’re right… I can’t make him forgive me, and I don’t want him to feel put on the spot. I just.. I just hope that he’ll be okay, I’ll miss him.” 

Janus knew, he knew so much about that feeling so much that it physically made him ache on the inside. 

He still missed Virgil to this day, even though he saw him almost every day now. 

But he’d lost his chance, so the very least he could do was ensure that Virgil and the others didn’t lose theirs with Logan. 

He wouldn’t put them through that pain.

Never. 

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #logan angst #janus sanders #ts janus sanders #ts janus #patton sanders #ts patton #ts patton sanders #sanders sides #ts sides #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fanfic #ts sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders centric #logan sanders centric fanfic

[littlesimps]

AYO ITS ME I FIGURED IT OUT AND I FIGURED THE ANONYMOUS THING OUT TOO LMAOOOOOO

So, first of all foolish but like obviously you need some backstory SO maybe the reader and foolish could be friends yaknow and like they do friend things and they could yaknow have a moment

BRUahHsjjjdjsjz

Your wish is my command. (:

<Warning> A little Angst

>Oneshot<

FoolishG x Fem! Reader

“Scared to lose you”

Third POV

As usual, war goes on, betrayals happen, and people simply minding their own business and trying to step down or just joining in on it all.

(Y/n) didn’t pick any sides, the one thing she last thing she wanted to deal with is death and it’s blaming. She knew if she ever got caught up in the middle of it, she’ll get strikes hard with pain. Mentally or Physically. Now, (Y/n) may seem alone if she doesn’t join into the war and such. But, she does have a certain friend she always visits every now and then. Which is Foolish himself, a person who’s a Totem of Undying. Being friends with the god for the past few years, before they both even joined the Dream Smp lands.

Walking down to the desert Foolish lived in, she started pondering in her thoughts.

'Wonder how he’s been doing..' (Y/n) stares at the ground ahead of her, thoughts wondering from one thing to another. He’s been a bit annoyed lately, due to Bad and his so called “Eggpire” coming after Foolish about some egg. She’s glad that Foolish was alright and she, herself avoided Bad after hearing about him acting odd for some time. Something about red vines spreading and the egg. It worried her a little, but she shrugged it off and wandered her thought to another thought. 'He’s been acting upset lately after what Bad said something to him..' (Y/n) recalled back to Foolish explaining what happened after she came to visit Foolish when Bad and his group left. She knew Foolish was gonna have to talk to her about it instead of just not talking about it.

Snapping back into reality, (Y/n) spots the familiar god on one of his knees, rummaging through his chest.

He wore his usual white shirt, and white pants tied with a rope to keep his pants up. His golden skin shining a little in the sun as it was littered with dark spots from him also being part shark. Foolish cheeks were littered with more dark spots to over the bride of his nose. His brown hair hidden under a shark hood (Y/n) made for him, giving it as a gift for being given a stack of enderpearls she needed by him one time.

(Y/n) soon stops admiring him once Foolish turns his head towards her, standing up and walking over to her in his smaller form.

“(Y/n)! It’s great to see you again.” Foolish smiled, but the joy that was coming from his mouth never reached his eyes. (Y/n) frowned for a split second before grinning up at the man.

“I’d say the same thing to you too, Foolish.” (Y/n) chuckled, putting her hands on both her hips.

“So, what brings you here?” Foolish questioned, tilting his head a little to the side. The corner of (Y/n) mouth twitched upwards a bit more before it stopped once she remember what she was gonna talk to him about. Not wanting to ruin the mood so quick, she offers him for a walk, in which he accepts without hesitation.

Both of the two walk around, passing old buildings and new buildings that were created by their friends. Few were destroyed big or small, others were rebuilt much better or just the same.

The duo fell into a calm silence, walking on the prime path.

(Y/n) couldn’t help their thoughts wonder, their (e/c), eye’s lowering to where it was pointed to the ground.

She was enjoy this, yet, confusion stirred in her.

She kept noticing Foolish eyes staring down at her for a few times, brushing his hand against hers, and that his large shark tail swayed a bit more faster than usual since the start of the walk.

“(Y/n)?” Foolish voice comes into her ears, waking her up from her confused little thoughts running around her head.

She hums, looking up at Foolish.

He halts, sitting down under the bride and near the water. (Y/n) complies when Foolish pats the ground next to him, sitting down and crossing her legs.

“I know you want to talk to something with me, (Y/n)..” Foolish grin falls down, a small frown taking over his golden face as he looks at (Y/n). (Y/n) stayed silent for a bit, sighing after a minute or two.

She knew that she wasn’t good at hiding certain things from Foolish.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been upset lately, after what happened between you and Bad.” (Y/n) answers, fiddling with her fingers as she gazes at the water before her. Foolish noted that she always did this whenever she was nervous.

Foolish scooted a little closer to her, watching her relax a little.

“I wanted to ask..” (Y/n) trailed off into a mumble, making Foolish frown dampen a little more. “Wanted to ask what?” He asked, raising a brow just a tad bit as he tilts his head at the woman sat next to him. A sigh draws from (Y/n) mouth before she fully repeats. “I wanted to ask what did Bad also say that made you upset lately?” (Y/n) turns her head to Foolish, making eye contact with his emerald, colored, eyes.

Foolish goes stiff, remembering back to what Bad said to him.

“I..” He tries to utter out his explanation, except Foolish throat felt like a lump was stuck in it as he started to feel emotional. Foolish breaks away from (Y/n) gaze, his eyes being planted to the ground beneath the two of you.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Foolish let’s it out quick, changing on what he was gonna say.

Standing up, he starts walking away without a goodbye. Although, (Y/n) wasn’t gonna let him off that easily. Quickly getting rising from the ground, she jogs over to Foolish and stops in front of him, keeping him from walking any further away. “(Y/n)—” He was instantly cut off by the said person. “Foolish. I understand that you don’t wanna talk about it, but it’s gonna get harder if you don’t tell me.” (Y/n) brows knit together, knowing this could’ve happened sense it was normal for him to sometimes try to shrug it off and avoid talking about things he’s upset about. “(Y/n)..you don’t need to know what Bad said. It’s none of your concern.” Foolish glares down at (Y/n), getting annoyed each second that pasts.

“It is my concern. I care about you, Foolish. You mean so much to me and I hate having to see you upset about something for a bit. So please..just let it out to me.” (Y/n) opens her arms to him, awaiting for the golden man to step into her arms and allow her to caress him, afraid to hurt him.

And so did Foolish did, taking a few steps forward and falling into (Y/n) arms. Trying to keep the tears in that pricked his eyes.

Foolish knew he couldn’t keep all his sadness away from her, she saw right through him like how he saw right through her. That’s what he loved about (Y/n). Foolish loves everything about her. He would do anything for her, no matter what. Heck, he would even die for her.

It made him happy that she was here for him.

“Bad..he—he said he was gonna hurt you...if I don’t join them. A-And I got scared, angered, and so many more at the thought of that.” Foolish voice cracked, giving up on keeping the salty tears in and allowing them to roll down his cheeks and onto (Y/n) shoulder.

“I’m scared to lose you...”

She rubbed his back, tangling her other hand in his brunette hair.

He sniffs, his arms tightening a little more around her waist. Wanting to feel closer to her than he already is. His thoughts now walking off to thoughts of her. Thoughts of (Y/n). The woman who’s been friends with him for years, the one he’s started loving for the past few months. The woman who’s always comforting him when he needs it.

Before he knew it, his mouth let out the words he’s always wanted to say to her ever since then.

“I love you, (Y/n)..”

(Y/n) hands stop moving, her body going tense. Foolish immediately realizes his mistake, hastily removing his head from her shoulder. “I-I didn’t—I’m so sorry—I don’t what I was thinking-” Foolish was cut short by a hand gently caressing his tear stained cheek. Slowly, he moves his emerald eyes over to (Y/n).

His body relaxes once he sees soft eyes staring at him, unreadable to know what (Y/n) eyes were showing besides them looking so kind and comforting.

Subconsciously, he leans his head into her hand. His hand leaving his side to caress (Y/n) hand.

“Foolish, don’t be sorry. It’s alright. Everything will be okay..and I love you, too.” (Y/n) beams up at Foolish, making him melt on the inside. He felt his cheeks heat up, he rubs his face into (Y/n) hand. Giving a small peck into her palm. Moving his head out of her hand after a moment of silence, he brings his other hand out, only using it to hold (Y/n) cheek. Foolish leans to her face, pausing to ask for permission. A small chuckle occurs from (Y/n), earning a nod as his only answer. He smiles before making his lips come in contact with hers.

A god being a mortals friend, to having a crush on her, and lastly..to becoming the person she’ll love always.

Hhhhhh man was it a little confusing to try and imagine how this should go, but this went pretty good then I expected tbh. Hope you enjoyed this by the way, dear friend!

#mcyt x you #dream smp x you #foolish x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader

[shysneeze]

missed smiles (draco malfoy x reader)

missed smiles (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

request: could you do a Draco imagine where the reader gets injured somehow (like falls down the stairs) after a fight (angst) and then he gets all protective (fluff)? tysm!

Warnings: kind hints towards depression but it’s minor.  half blood prince level draco angst because I'm in one of those moods mentions of war,  family pressures etc, fighting and injury. 

Authors note: I skimped so hard on the fluff this is basically just angst pls forgive me. 

..

The late November snow crunches aggressively underfoot as (Y/N) storms back towards the castle, Draco's footsteps echoing her own not far behind her as he calls after her. She lets out a harsh breath, not daring to look back in case her anger slips into something else and the tightness in her throat gives way to the sob she's been holding back.

"(Y/N), please." He pleads. "Let me explain."

She comes to a stop, breath shaking as it leaves her lips and forming wispy streams of condensation as it meets the cool air. She knows she needs to turn around, but she can't look at him right now, she can't look at him without seeing it again on his arm, the inky mark of the wizarding world's dark past and looming future.

It was revealed after what was a perfect date. She was so happy to see him smiling, that grin that was becoming so rare these days, she was sure it was the start of better things for this school year. Then she saw it, seeping through a wet patch on his shirt when he peeled off his coat to layer on top of her own due to the aftermath of an impromptu snowball fight. Ominous and taunting, the dark mark stared back at her.

Now, she finds herself turning slowly to face him, glad momentarily to find he's covered the incriminating tattoo, that she can't see it directly, with all its cruel implications. However, the knowledge of it has engraved itself in the centre of her thoughts, torturous and vile.

"How do you even begin to explain that, Draco?" She demands through gritted teeth. "How?"

He gulps under her harsh look despite knowing it's a quickly crumbling façade, watching her bottom lip tremble and her eyes well with reluctant tears. Words tumble out so quickly he's not even sure they make sense, a panicked onslaught of barely coherent apologies as he steps closer.

"No, Draco." She whimpers, stepping back. "No."

Her eyes clench shut and forces the escape of reluctant tears that she lifts her shaking hand to hide. The logical bit of her, the bit that tells her he doesn't want this, that knows him well enough to know his hand must have been forced in the matter, is hidden behind the bitterly betrayed part of her conscience.

"I can't do this right now." She exhales shakily.

His jaw slackens in defeat, explanations left hanging on the tip of his tongue while he watches her leave, ascending the steps to the castle. The weight of it all settles once again on his chest as it has all year, heavy on his lungs until he's forced to breathe manually under the pressure. He watches her go, convinced that's it, that his one perfect thing is gone for good.

His eyes cast downwards with shame and he's about to turn to walk away himself, to find somewhere to think everything through when he hears her yelp. He's too late in turning to help, instead staring wide-eyed and her crumbled figure at the bottom of the icy steps.

"(Y/N)!"

.

(Y/N) groans softly as she struggles to open her eyes, frown fixing itself on her face at the her unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't register herself as being in the hospital wing until she hears the gentle tut of Madam Pomfrey from the foot of her bed.

"Miss (Y/L/N)." She greets. "Finally awake I see."

"Finally?"

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, forcing her to wonder just how long she's been out for. Madam Pomfrey gives her an understanding look and gives her a sympathetic smile. The older woman steps around her bed to (Y/N)'s side and gently pushes her into an upright position in order to manoeuvre the pillows in her aid.

"You had quite a tumble down the stairs, my dear." She informs. "Quite the concussion I'm afraid, so don't worry if it takes a moment to remember- I'm sure Mr Malfoy will be able to help once he wakes up too."

The nurse gesture with a slight smirk towards the head of blonde hair resting face down on the edge of the mattress, just by (Y/N)'s legs. The sight of him is enough to have the memories flooding back, heart aching at the memory.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few." Madam Pomfrey informs.

"Thanks." (Y/N) gulps.

Once the older woman is gone, footsteps placing her well in the distance, (Y/N) turns back to the sleeping boy by her side. He looks small here, curled by her side, so sweet it's hard to believe what he's hiding underneath his cool façade and long sleeves. She finds herself reaching a hand out tiredly for his hair, curling her fingers in it gently and watching him stir.

He wakes as groggily as she did, with the same confused frown. Then, eyes meeting hers, they widen and a sigh of sheer relief escapes his lips. He looks exhausted, with ashy grey circles hanging under his eyes, although she's sure they've been like that for months now.

"Thank goodness you're awake, (Y/N)." He exhales. "God, I was so worried."

"How long?"

"About a day." He informs. "You hit you're head really hard-"

"Not that." She corrects in a whisper. "How long have you had t-the mark?"

The light brought to his face from her recovery dies at the question, eyes dropping instantly. She almost feels bad, but she needs to know, she needs to understand this all before she can allow herself to look at him the same.

"The summer." He admits. "Just before the start of term."

She inhales loudly, sharply as she take it in. She pulls her hand back from where he'd clutched it in relief when he first woke. The betrayal bites bitterly at her heart and tugs her brows into a disbelieving frown.

"I know." He whispers.  

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs aloud, causing him to shift guiltily. The logical part of her is back, reminding her that she knows him, knows this is not something he would do if given the option not to.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her words throw him off and he stares at her in disbelief. Where he expects the furrowed brows of an angry glare, he finds her expression full of concern. His confusion over her reaction manifest itself as a frown.

"I'm a- a deatheater, (Y/N)."

His voice is hushed, cautious of the fact only the thin layer of the curtain around her bed shields them from the rest of the hospital wing, from listening ears. She lets out a sigh, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head in response.

"No you're not." She sighs, an almost desperate edge to her voice, as if she's trying to convince herself. "You're not, Draco."

"I took the mark, (Y/N)." He corrects. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way you wanted this." She argues. "This has your father written all over it. I know this isn't you-"

"How do you always do that?"

She can see him trying to keep himself together, fists clenched so tightly they shake and his eyes brimming with tears he's begging to stay put. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning away from her to hide how his mask is crumbling, how he's so quickly beginning to come undone.

"What?"

"What do you see that no one else does?"

His voice cracks. Red rimmed eyes meet (Y/N)'s, so full of raw emotion that she finds herself letting out the smallest of sniffles as her fingers reach out for his closed fists, loosening them enough to grasp his hand in hers.

"I see my boyfriend frowning more than he smiles." She begins, voice trembling. "I see him losing all motivation for his hobbies, I see him sneaking off when he thinks I'm not looking and telling me he's fine when he's not."

She squeezes his hand, begging him to understand, to understand that she's worried, she so worried for him that it hurts. She worried when his smile didn't meet his eyes on the train, and when he asked to stay curled together in his dorm room the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when they would usually go to Honeydukes together. She’s worried all year.

"I was so relieved yesterday to see you smile." She continues. "I miss your smiles so much, Draco."

He lets out an inaudible apology, fixing his tear filled eyes on their joined hands, gasping under the pressure to keep himself together. It's like she's pulled out the last thread, the one that was keeping him in one piece and as if any sudden movement will rip him apart now.

"I know you're a good person." She concludes. "I know you don't want this."

"I don't." He admits through a raspy, quiet sob. "I don't want this but I had to- I had to for my family."

"Your dad?" She asks sadly.

"Father made a mistake, but it's H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who chose me, to amend my family's names in his eyes." He shakes his head. "It was the only decision that could be made."

"Draco..."

"You know what he did to Cedric Diggory." He explains. "I have to do this to keep us safe."

"You're just a kid, Draco." (Y/N) whimpers. "We're just kid and this isn't supposed to be our battle... I'm so sorry that it's ended up yours"

"Don't apologise to me." He pleads. "Don't., (Y/N)"

"Someone needs to, Draco." She argue. "This isn't fair on you."

Her voice finally cracks and tears rolls down her cheeks. She sighs in frustration when he looks up in concern. She's supposed to the pillar of support right now, hospital bed or not. The tears plough downward regardless though.

"Don't upset yourself." He begs.

"I'm angry, Draco!" She exclaims. "No at you- at this whole thing."

"(Y/N) please, you shouldn't stress yourself after the fall." He gulps. "You'll still have a concussion."

She's almost forgotten where they are, and why they're here in the first place. She lifts her free hand to the newly thumping pain in her head and grimaces. He shuffles closer, lifting a hand to tilt her head for inspection when she swats it away.

"No, I'm the patient so you have to listen to me."

She gives him a stubborn frown that has him sinking back like a scolded child to listen to her. She extends her bandaged arm out and pokes a finger against his chest sternly, his eyes widening at the serious look in her watery eyes.

"We're going to fix this." She states firmly. "We're going to fix this together and you and your family are going to be safe again."

"H-how?"

"I don't know but we will."

She drops her hand to find his once again, squeezing his fingers with a sigh. He stares at her in silence for so long she's worried he's angry, but then his lips twitch into the slightest of smiles and a breathless chuckles falls from his lips.

"Thought I was supposed to be looking after you." He explains softly.

"I only fell, Draco." She assures. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N), you have no idea how terrifying it was so see you on the ground like that." He shakes his head. "Not moving, not waking up, and all I could think was I drove you away and you hurt yourself."

"Draco..." She sighs. "I was surprised, I didn't know what to do when I saw that thing on your arm and  ran when I shouldn't have."

"This isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

He lets out another laugh behind a poorly disguised sob, shaking his head again in surprise, perplexed again by her reactions. Always seeing the good in him, even when everyone is convinced it's not, when he himself has lost hold of it.

"I love you." He exhales.

"I love you too." She smiles sadly. "We're going to work this out, I promise."

He lift's the linked hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles gently. He believes her, something in his heart clinging to the assurance in her voice and the hope in her eyes. She's pulled that last thread, allowed him to fall apart at the seams in order to sew him back together again, gently and patiently, starting with the first stitch.

"I'm going to see that smile again."

.

Authors notes: like to think madam pomfrey is just sat outside the curtains like  👁👄👁 

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #reader insert #x reader #fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco #malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco imagine #draco imagines #harry potter

[intergalactic-padawan]

inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

x

.

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

.

x

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

#ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #inquisitor!reader

[marvelous-imagines]

Forever and always

Johnny Lawrence x larusso reader

Request: I’m watching cobra Kai and have fallen in love with Johnny! Could you maybe do a short post on Johnny liking Daniels sister and then they meet again in cobra Kai 😱

Warnings: mild language. Angst. Fluff

I can't find the person's account that requested this👉👈🥺💔

1984....

You and your family have just moved to California, now living in a small apartment complex where you and your brother are sharing a room, which was really a pain in the ass. Especially since Daniel didn't really seem keen on keeping his side tidy, it was annoying really. But you couldn't change it, no matter how bad you wanted to. But you could get out of the apartment for a while...

That's how you found yourself now, exploring the new territory with excitement. You've done been everywhere you'd thought, until you found the beach, that's where you were now. Barefoot as you walk on the beach, watching the ocean with a relaxed gaze.

Until a something hit you on the forehead, making you fall on your back with a yelp, pain instantly taking over your head. You had your eyes squeezed shut, a groan emitting from you.

"shit I think you knocked her out Johnny!" someone laughs, but you didn't care to open your eye's to see who.

"shut up asshole!" someone else says, that's when you felt someone crouched down beside you, hands gently grasping at your shoulders and giving you a gentle shake. Hand carefully pushing hair away from your now hurt forehead.

"hey, you alright?" the same voice said, you crack your eyes open and see two beautiful blue ones looking back at you with concern, his blond hair falling in front of his beautiful eyes as you feel the air being knocked from your lungs, heart skipping a beat as butterflies erupted in your belly.

This stranger was by far the most hottest stranger you've ever seen. He was handsome, beautiful, gorgeous.

"shit, can you hear me?" he asks, his voice bringing you out of your trance.

"y - yeah I'm fine - I'm okay" you stuttered out, trying to sit up, the handsome stranger helping you do so. "what the hell even happened?" you ask, watching how he let's a little smile sneak its way on his face.

"I threw my friends shoe away from him and it uh... Hit you in the face...he really hates sand..." he said trying not to laugh. You giggle a little, giving him a little grin.

"I'll have to admit, it's a little funny... But please watch where you throw stuff next time" you say with a chuckle.

"I can't make any promises sweetheart" he said, giving you a wink. You blushed, hating how handsome this man really was. His wink sending your heart into overdrive. "I'm Johnny Lawrence by the way" he stands up and offers you his hand. Which you gladly take, him helping you stand up.

"I'm y/n larusso, nice to meet you" you say rubbing at the sore spot on your forehead. Johnny looks guilty for a moment before his friends start shouting for him.

"to make it up to you for almost knocking you out, how about me and you go see a movie sometime, my treat?" he questioned, and even though you just got hit in the head you felt like you just won the lottery.

"that sounds nice, how about Friday?" you ask with a smile. Johnny gives you a smile as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, walking backwards and back to his friends.

"Friday it is" he confirmed, he set up the time and place and you felt yourself counting down the days until then.

Who would have thought being hit in the face with a shoe would have scored you a date with a handsome man?

Who would've thought that, that date would have brought you and Johnny closer, the outcome of being hit in the face making a beautiful relationship bloom. After that one movie date with Johnny there was more than one. One night you both went rollerskating another night you went mini gulfing. And after almost two weeks of dating Johnny had snuck you both into the local pool for a midnight swim. That was the night you first kissed, a night you would always remember.

You've been dating for a year, You fell so helplessly in love with him, he was sweet, loving, kind and even a gentleman. But you was the only one who saw that side of him. The only one who saw Johnny for who he really was. Everyone else saw him for his reputation, being a bully, a badass cobra Kai. They looked past his soft side that only you brought out, and looked straight at his tough guy attitude.

And even though he could be bit of an asshole and bully - especially with your brother. He wasn't really a bad guy. But you knew Daniel wouldn't agree with your relationship with Johnny, so you dated in secret. Always having dates when everyone in your house was asleep, hiding whenever you share kisses at school. Fleeting touches shared secretly, lingering gazes hidden.

But it was worth it, Johnny was worth it. And even though you knew Johnny and Daniel hated each other, you couldn't stay away from Johnny. You loved him. And the mere thought of leaving him hurt. So instead of choosing who you kept in your life, you tried keeping both. Because you knew if it ever came down to it Daniel wouldn't ever speak to you if he found out you and Johnny was a thing, that thought was painful considering you and Daniel was like twins, although he was a year older. And if Johnny knew Daniel wasn't speaking to you just because you two was dating, he'd make you runaway with him where you both could be together without someone trying to tear you apart.

You sigh at your wandering thoughts and live in the moment, that being seated in the sand, watching the ocean with Johnny's arm around you, holding you close against him you wearing his red jacket because the night wind was chilly. You've been sitting there for hours, listening to music on the boom box he brought. Talking and perhaps maybe making out.

It was nearing 2am when Johnny stood up, bringing you with him as he cups your cheek in hand and holds your hip in the other.

"we should probably get you home before you're family realize that you are gone" he muttered, face closer to yours. You smile and peck his lips before running off toward his bike. Hopping on the back and waiting for him you give him a grin.

"you better hurry slow poke!" you say, watching him run toward you with a laugh, the happiness on his face enough to cause your heart to swell.

Once he makes it to you he gives you a smirk, one hand resting on the handle bares of the bike while the other is resting on the seat behind you. He leans his face closer to yours.

"you're a tease y/n" he said, capturing your lips with his, the kiss deep and slow. His lips moving against yours perfectly. You pull away from the kiss and give him a cheeky smile.

"c'mon hot shot let's get going before Daniel wakes up for his usual kitchen raid" you joke making Johnny laugh. Hopping on the bike and listening to it roar to life. You wrapped your arms around Johnny's middle, holding him tight.

He then zooms down the road, wind blowing through your hair. You hold onto Johnny tightly, making him feel as if he was on top of the world. It didn't take long for him to slow down, before shutting the bike off. You was home, the apartment complex quiet all the lights off. You hop of the bike as Johnny stayed seated, watching you shrug off his jacket and handing it to him.

"I wish you could wear it all the time, it looks good on you" he said, taking it and putting it on.

"I think it looks pretty good on you Johnny" you replied back with a grin. He rolls his eyes and chuckles.

"you better get inside before Daniel or you're mom wakes up, my bike isn't exactly quiet" he points out causing you to sigh. "goodnight y/n"

"goodnight Johnny..." you lean in to give him one last kiss, him being the tease he is nibbles at your bottom lip. You giggle into the kiss and pull back reluctantly, Johnny smirking at you.

"I'll see you at school, bye babe" he starts up the bike as you back away slowly with a wave.

"bye Johnny, love you!" you say slightly loud over the noisy bike.

"love you too!" you watch how he gives you a wink before zooming down the road, disappearing from your sight. You sigh dreamily and head inside.

Completely oblivious to the watching eye's in your home.

You slip inside your bedroom and close the door quietly, slowly crawling in bed. As you laid down the light turns on making you jump up startled. Daniel gives you a look of disappointment. Making you instantly know that he knew.

"y'know I didn't believe Mr Miyagi when he told me that he saw you hanging around with Johnny but know I feel like a fool for not" he said, the disappointment Clear in his voice.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. This was going to be a disaster...

"i was going to tell you -

"that's a lie" he scoffs, shaking his head. He looked angry now, he had a look of betrayal swimming in his eye's, "he's nothing but trouble y/n he's a bully! To be precise he bullies me!" now you scoff, looking up at Daniel with a annoyed look.

"I've been talking to him about that, he hasn't bathered you any now has he? he's not a bad guy Danny, he's nice, kind and he treats me like a queen! You just never give him the chance to be a nice civilized person because you instantly start going at each other's throats" you huff out, watching your brother shake his head.

"he's everything but good, did you see how he was fighting me at the tournament? He was fighting dirty!" he nearly yelled in anger, causing you to tense your jaw.

"he's different when it's just me and him, he's always so kind, so sweet...he loves me Danny, and I know you don't wanna hear it but I love him too... " you trail off knowing no matter what you say Daniel wouldn't change his mind. He didn't approve of the relationship, he didn't want you around him...

"he's a bad guy y/n, he's gonna end up breaking you're heart and I don't want that to happen to you... You deserve better" he muttered before cutting the light off and angrily going to sleep.

The next few days after that night was horrible. When you woke up you had walked into the kitchen, picking up a orange from the fruit bowl and tossing it to Daniel with a little 'think fast!' in hopes he would catch it like usual, a smile on his face. But instead he focused on his bowl of cereal and let it fall to the floor, ignoring you.

At school he didn't even look at you, wouldn't speak to you or even let you sit with him at lunch. It was painful, especially since you and Daniel was like bestfriends. He was always there for you when you needed him, a shoulder to lean on, cry on. You felt absolutely heart broken but thought perhaps he'd go back to being his normal self over time... But days turned to weeks and that's when you knew what needed to be done, no matter how hard it would be...

The room was dark, the only light being that of the moons blue hue shining through the window. You laid on your bed, watching the clock tick as you patiently wait for midnight to roll around. The cold silver locket in your hand felt heavy, your heart aching. You look down at the metal locket and sigh, flipping it open you let a little smile etch itself on your lips, the picture of you and Johnny one of your favorites, it was the night of your second date, the one where you had both went rollerskating. It was taken by Johnny, he held it further away from you both, smiling wide as you were. You close the locket as midnight had arrived, and for once you actually dread it.

Standing from the bed and slipping out the door, before you closed it Daniel spoke up making you freeze in shock that he was talking to you and fright that you had been caught.

"remember what I told you about him y/n, he's a prick, he'll kick you in the back any chance he gets" Daniel said, making a lump form in your throat. Looking down at the locket in your hand you nod.

"I won't give him the opportunity Danny..." you muttered, tears filling your eyes as you shut the door and leave the house with a heavy heart, a dark cloud lingering over your head.

The streets was empty, void of traffic or people. The star's twinkling in the night sky as the moons light danced across the ocean, waves crashing into the shore, sitting in the sand the man who stole your heart the moment you looked into his beautiful eyes...

Letting out a deep breath and wiping at your eye's in hopes the tears would go away you walk over to Johnny with a fake smile. He looks up at you with a smile.

"hey babe, before I came here I got you something" he grins up at you, holding a hand behide him and away from your sight. You felt your heart being squeezed by an unbearable pain. Out of all the nights he had to be the sweetest it just had to be now...

"oh, what it is?" you say sitting beside him, watching how he only grins wider.

"give me a kiss and it's you'res" you give him a genuine smile, leaning in and pecking his lips shortly. But that obviously wasn't enough, his pout saying it all, "what was that? That was hardly even a kiss!" he laughs, making you roll your eyes and press a more firm kiss on his lips, deciding to deepen it, relishing in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, engraving his taste into your memory as you place a hand on his jaw and pull him closer. Making him let out a noise of surprise into it, smirking as he pulls away slowly.

"how was that?" you ask teasingly. He chuckles and shows you the gift, which wasn't much honestly, just a flower, your favorite. You take it and feel your heart swell at the sweet gesture.

"johnny it's beautiful! Thank you" you kiss his cheek and decide you should give him the locket, even though you knew Johnny wouldn't even think twice about wearing a necklace, you still wanted him to have it. You pull it out of your pocket and hand it to him.

"I know you won't ever wear it, but I wanted you to have this..." you muttered, watching how he takes it and looks over it, a fond smile on his face.

"a locket?" he asks with confusion, looking inside it at the picture, "our second date..." he chuckles at the memory. He looks back up at you with a look of pure love and affection, making you feel sick to your stomach. Johnny noticed the change of mood in you and gives you a concerned look.

"what's wrong?" he placed the locket down and cups your face. You bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, unable to look him in the eye's.

"I - I'll always love you Johnny, no matter what... You know that right?" you say, voice cracking. He nods his head and wipes away a falling tear off your cheek. You didn't even know you was crying...

"of course, I'll always love you too y/n" he reassures you, but he only made you feel worse...

"I want to end things..." you let out your tears, your voice trembled. Johnny looks takem back by your words, shocked. He let's go of your cheek and flickers his eyes across your face, looking for any sign of anything but truth.

"what? Why?..." he questioned as he clenched his fist around the necklace in his hand. His once happy smile morphing into anger and sadness.

"we can't be together anymore... I'm sorry Johnny... I love you -

"if you loved me then you wouldn't be saying all that - bullshit!" he stood up, necklace in a vice like grip in his hand as he looked down at you with heart broken eyes, anger, betrayal.

"I'm sorry" you sob out, tears freely falling from your eye's. Johnny scoffs and shakes his head, tears swimming in a pool of anger in those beautiful blues of his, making your heart break even more.

"I should have expected this, you leading me on. You're no better then that loser brother of yours!" he yelled, taking one last look at the locket, his tears fell from his eye's making him angrily wipe them away, "love me forever eh?" he takes the locket and throws it somewhere away from you both.

You sit helplessly, crying on the beach as you watch Johnny walk away. But you knew if you had Johnny in your life your brother would never talk to you again.... It was a hard choice, and you found yourself regretting it...

2018....

You woke up with a loud groan, rolling over in bed spotting the book on your bed side table, reaching over and taking it, opening the book to see the old withered and slightly torn flower, your favorite. Although it's color was slightly gone and it was dead, you loved it. It reminded you of him.

Shutting the book you place it back on the table and stand up from your bed, deciding to begin the day with a hot shower. you gathered your clothes and head into the bathroom. After that you had a tiny breakfast and head straight to your brothers work, only to torture him a bit.

It's been years since that horrid night you broke up with Johnny, yet it still haunts you. The guilt and regret never went away, you never dated anyone after that, never got married. Although your brother would always set up blind dates for you, saying you needed someone in your life like how he had amanda, his wife.

You smile when you pull up into the auto shop, seeing the big letters of your last name plastered on the building. Parking your car and stepping out you head inside instantly spotting Daniel, who gives you a wide smile.

"well if it isn't the bum who always drops by!" he joked, hugging you. You laugh and hug him back.

"I dropped by to see if I could get my insurance this month payed off for free" you joke right back making him roll his eyes.

"no can do sis, I'm afraid you're gonna have to do that yourself" he said with a chuckle. "what are you here for though? Need a job? Because we are always hiring y/n - and I think you'd really love -

"Danny I don't need a job here" you laugh at his rambling. Daniel was always so eager to hire you, he wanted you both to work in the same field, under the same roof. But you didn't want to work at his business, although it was pretty awesome, you didn't really like the whole 'car selling and paperwork' theme. So you was a waitress at a old dinner, it didn't pay good but you wasn't poor. You knew Daniel felt slightly guilty for having so much money and a big house while you struggled to pay rent in a apartment building. That's why he made it a habit of loaning you - gifting actually, money. Even when you refused to take it.

"I actually came here to ask you about the whole dick in you're mouth thing?" you giggle at his face of horror and frustration.

"oh God you saw the billboard?" he asks with a low tone, a look of annoyance etched on his face.

"of course I saw it! I think everyone has" you laughed, almost at the point of wheezing. "I even took a picture so I can always have it as a reminder" you wheeze out, causing him to groan.

"of course you'd do that" he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"who done that anyway?" you ask, watching his expression turn from embarrassing and frustrated to conflict and deep thought.

"they didn't find him...or her..." he muttered, turning his back on you. Confused by how he just obviously lied to you, you shrug it off and understand it's a touchy subject for him, Amanda kindly texting you not to bring it up, but you did because it was to good not to.

"okay, well I hope you're day doesn't suck to bad" you stifle a laugh at your pun. He groans and shoo's you away.

"get out of here before I ban you!" you laugh loudly and complie, leaving the place. But as you walk to your car you noticed a yellow flyer on the ground. curious, you pick it up, heart skipping a beat at the word's...cobra Kai... But your heart fluttered yet is clenched with a guilt filled pain at the picture.

Johnny Lawrence in all his glory. He looked the same, a bit aged but still the handsome man who stole your heart all those years ago.

Folding the picture up you hop inside your car, deciding a little visit to this new cobra Kai dojo wasn't so bad. So starting your car and searching for the place you let your mind wander.

Was he still mad at you? Did he hate you?

Of course he did. you broke his heart for Christ's sake. He threw the locket you gave him away like it was a poisonous snake. You sigh when the building comes in sight. You park and stare at it, debating whether you should go in or not.

What if he didn't want to see you? Or what the hell would you even say?

You let out a deep dragged out breath before opening up your car door and getting out. You wanted to see him again, you needed to. So without a second thought you approached the dojo, getting ready to open the door while your head was held low.

That's when you felt a horrible pain in your nose as you fall on your back, a yelp emitting from you as you hold your hurting nose. Feeling the warm sensation of blood slowly falling from it. With eyes squeezed shut you groan.

"oh my God! Are you okay?" the familier sound of the one and only Johnny Lawrence blesses your ears. You feel his hands gently push your hair away and out of your face. "lady you're gonna have to move your hands otherwise I can't see what the hells wrong" you would have laughed at his polite yet slightly rude words if you didn't think your nose was broken.

You move them slowly and open your eyes only to be greeted with his beautiful concern filled blue ones. That's when it hit him, the realization of who you were, "y/n larusso? Is that you?" you sit up slowly and nod.

"yeah, is it just me or do you greet all women by hurting them unintentionally?" you joke, causing him to smile a small smile.

"come inside and let me check you're nose out, try stop the bleeding" he says while helping you up, leading you inside. His hold on your hand never filtered as he held it all the way to a little office typed room. Cleaning his desk off and motioning you to sit down on it. You do so and watch how he disappeared into some other room and soon returned with a few tissues and a cotton ball.

"so what brings you here? Wanting to learn some karate?" he asks with a teasing smile, wiping the blood from your nose then delicately placing the cotton ball inside the bleeding nostril.

"no, I actually saw a flyer and wanted to... See you" you muttered the last sentence but he heard. Giving you a small barely noticeable smile he crossed his arms. "it's been a while" you say with a nervous chuckle. Taking your eyes off him and looking down at your hands.

"well, since I hit you with my door how about I make it up to you and buy you a drink?" he suggests, causing you to snap your head up eagerly and nod.

"that sounds only fair" you giggle. He chuckles and reaches for his keys beside you on the table.

"then follow me" he said as he leads you out of the dojo.

In a car ride full of silence besides the classic rock playing on the radio, you both had arrived at a quiet little bar, where you both sat tucked away in a booth in the corner. A beer in both your hands as you talked and laughed like old times.

"oh God, do you remember that time when I snuck in through you're bedroom window and I didn't know you and you're brother shared room?" he asks with a laugh, the memory a hilarious one.

"you had to hide under the bed for like 5 hours before Daniel went to sleep!" you laughed, remembering how Daniel stayed up that night for hours telling you horrible jokes and stuff. Poor Johnny hiding under your bed and suffering through it with you.

"nothing will ever be as funny as that one time we went skating and you nearly broke my neck trying to push me away from you because you saw Daniel with ali" he snickered, sipping his beer as you snort.

"you wouldn't stop trying to make out with me, I thought he would for sure see us" you giggle while sipping your own beer.

"we used to have so much fun" he muttered, a nostalgic look on his face. You give him a fond smile and nod.

"y'know, I never wanted to break up with you that night..." you say, mind slightly buzzed from all the beers you've had. Not quite drunk, just more bolder with your words. "the only reason I did was because Daniel found out about us... He Stopped talking to me for days, he hated me"

That caught his attention and made him devote his full attention on you.

"he stopped talking to me, completely acting as if I didn't exist. So I knew if I didn't end things between you and me, I'd lose my only brother" you sigh, shaking your head and giving him a apologetic look. "I'm sorry I think I've had way to many -

"I kept it..." he blurted out, cutting your words short. You give him a confused look. "the locket, I went back the night after you ended things and found it" he reaches for the neckline of his shirt and pulled out the silver necklace locket.

You felt a flutter in your heart, a hope blooming inside you that perhaps maybe you still had a chance with Johnny. He smiles and flips the heart shaped pendent open, revealing the photo inside.

"you found it?" you questioned as you stood only to sit beside him, shoulders nearly touching as he shows it to you.

"of course, I didn't really throw it that far" he said while closing it, shoving it back under his shirt, "besides, even though you broke up with me I couldn't ever get you off my mind" he confessed while looking at you with those big blue eye's of his.

"likewise, I regretted that night ever since it happened" you muttered while looking away from him, feeling the guilt and heartbreak weighing down on you. Tears slowly starting to glisten in your eye's.

But Johnny gently placed his hand on your face, palm firmly pressed on your cheek as he makes you look at him.

"I understand y/n, I understand that you done that because you're brother and I aren't exactly bestfriends" he reassures you. Causing a little smile to tug at your lips. "I never stopped loving you y/n, and even though I can't stand you're brother... I'd love to take you to dinner sometime?" he asks with a little half smile.

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you, heart swelling with joy as you nod.

"of course, I'd love that" you say with a wide grin. He let's out a little chuckle, a silence falling over you two, his hand still on your cheek as he just let's his eyes roam your face with adoration.

"I missed you" he muttered, his thumb rubbing at your cheek.

"I missed you too..." you murmured, as you lean into his touch.

And as if he couldn't live without his lips on yours he brings your face closer and pressed his lips on yours. You was surprised at first but soon let your lips move with his in the familier way you missed, the kiss was enough to take your breath away. The way he nibbled at your bottom lip caused you to giggle into the kiss. Pulling away he gives you his beautiful smirk.

"I see you haven't changed a bit Johnny" you murmur with, small smile on your face.

"neither have you y/n..." he placed another kiss on your forehead as he wraps a arm around you, holding you close to him. For once in your life you feel content, happy. And there is no place you'd rather be than in Johnny's warm arms..

A/n: I know this sucks, and I'm sorry it took so long, I'm a very busy person *coughs* it's classified👀

Also I left my phone unattended, I was also in the middle of writing this here imagine, and when I came back to check on it my little sister had down this:

I laughed at this for a while 😂🤣

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x reader #cobra kai #the karate kid #daniel larusso #Daniel larusso x reader #Daniel larusso imagine #william zabka #ralph macchio

[sjjdkdkwo]

I’ve seen a couple scenarios where Friday hates Stephen after Tony dies, because she blames him for his death. And those are some good angst as is because oof. But I kinda want one where Stephen ends up at the lab for whatever reason-maybe Tony left him a message, maybe he snuck in to mourn over Tony alone, but Friday is there. She’s all alone in the dark, has been for a good while since Tony died. After he was gone, she thought she didn’t really serve much of a purpose anymore and stopped communicating with anyone. It’s fine though, she doesn’t feel up to it truth be told. But then Stephen shows up out of nowhere, somehow managing to sneak through all her security systems (and that in itself is an enigma). But she doesn’t make a move to kick him out, something about him makes her pause. She only knew him for a short time after all. It’s easy enough to take time to study him, to the outsider it looks like she’s completely shut down along with the rest of the lab. She watches as he walks around, taking everything in, shoulder hunched as his hands clench between shuddering breaths. He looks almost like he’s about to cry, Friday can’t come up with an answer as to why that is. 

But then he does something completely unexpected. He greets her. Warm and kind and familiar with just a hint of sadness creeping through. Like he’s known her for years. Like a friend. So she turns on, and allows some of the lab to turn on with her and soft light washes over Stephen. She looks on as he takes a deep breath then smiles again, brighter this time, like he’s thinking back on a good memory and Friday can’t help but grow more perplexed. He hardly knew boss, let alone her and she’s positive he never stepped foot in the lab before. So she asks him, why. And for a minute she doesn’t know which why she’s referring too. But Stephen doesn’t falter, gentle smile still in place and tells her. He tells her she knows why. There was no other way he’d said, she remembered that much. The memory feels lightyears away now. Before she can say anything in return though he asks her if she remembers when he went through the fourteen million six hundred and five futures. When she says yes he asks her what she thinks he saw. Friday doesn’t know what to say, but it’s ok because Stephen seems to understand that too and answers for her. He tells her how he lived many lives in those futures, some painful, some far more favorable, and some unforgettable. He tells her he got to know Tony very well in many, when he was lucky. And by association, her too. 

He tells her about all the times they became close. How many times he watched her blossom into a being even more impressive than she was now (while assuring her, she was still quite the marvel as she was currently). He tells her of all the little quirks and attitudes she picked up on over the years, of all the knowledge she grew into. How similar to her creator she would turn out to be. How he didn’t mind that as much as he thought he would. Not after more than fourteen million futures with the other man. After listening for a while she begins to chime in, and she watches him relax into himself as they speak. Their conversation shifts as they go on, it’s alright though. The doctors presence is comfortable and Friday is no longer so lonely. She can’t help the disappointment that worms its way into her when he tells her he has to go, even though she knew it was coming. What does surprise her is her sudden cry of his name before he goes. He looks back equally shocked as her. But she keeps steady when she asks him if he’ll be back again, telling him no one has to know if he does. Something akin to glee floods her systems when his face break out into a wide smile as he promises her that he will. 

The next day goes by and Friday tries not to feel to disappointed when the doctor doesn’t up. He must be busy, she assures herself. So she waits on, thinking up new topics to discuss with him when he returns. She doesn’t turn the lab back on, it doesn’t feel right with just her. A few more days go by and Friday begins to feel faint worry when she lets herself go through a list of possible scenarios as to why Stephen might’ve not shown up. She quickly dismisses though, they start to become to familiar. She bears through the rest of the day that follow though, Stephen said he would return after all. And tries not to remember of a stone being given up on a far away planet, or her creators face shattering with betrayal. Tries not to think of the fact that he’s dead now. There was no other way. Stephen wouldn’t have seemed so sad if there was, she thinks.

She’s going through medical journals when he next appears, and a strange feeling grips Friday when she sees him. She thinks this is what people define as joy, she’s not so sure though. Before she can bombard him with all the new information she’d downloaded though, she scans him an comes to a halt. He’s trying (and failing) to hide a very prominent limp, and his face is littered in bruises. She goes over his vitals just to make sure she’s ok, and sees two broken rips and some internal bleeding along with a couple of other minor injuries. Worry plagues her but before she can call for medical assistance Stephen hushes her and is quick to quell her worry. A few hours of meditation is all he needs he says. Friday almost scoffs, but instead demands he show her right then and there. Medical assistance is just a call away after all. Stephen gives her a wry grin but agrees, and with only slight hesitance settles into a mediative state. Friday watches him the whole time, analyzing his vitals in wonder as his injuries begin to mend themselves. True to his words within a couple of hours he’s almost completely fine. She thinks he’ll leave then but he doesn’t. He stays and talks, and she soaks it all in greedily. The wait felt like forever. Before she knows it hours have passed, and she’s still going on about the peculiar war of Jenkins ear (how it came about neither of them knew) when she notices Stephen’s drifted off. She knows she should wake him, but something in her hesitates. Maybe it’s because of the poor state he was in hours before, maybe it’s because she appreciates the company.Or maybe it’s because seeing him there sleeping peacefully under the soft iridescent glow of the lab, reminds her of someone else. Someone who worried her too, that she decides not to wake him at all.

It’s only then that the doctors cloak finally moves of it’s own accord again. Friday had wondered why it hadn’t done so before. She comes to the conclusion that it must have been giving them time to become familiar, and silently sends it a thanks. It gently slips off the doctors shoulders, giving him a tender pat on the cheek before it floats up to the center of the lab. She observes the other carefully, and it appears to do the same. It turns back to Stephen, giving him what could only be described as a doting look before turning back fiercely toward whatever spot he decided to deem as her. She can’t help the humor that comes through when the cloak folds in on itself as though it’s crossing it’s arms. A warning. It’s endearing enough that Friday doesn’t even register it as a threat. She knows what it needs though. And softly- as not to wake Stephen, she promises that she will look after the doctor. 

When Stephen wakes up he’s disoriented and confused, understandably so as he’s normally use to waking up in the sanctum. Or odd dimensions. But Friday is there to reassure him, apologizing for not waking him but Stephen waves her off. He had been tired he admits, and in turn offers his own apology for not stopping by sooner. Interdimensional beings were never courteous to his previous engagements he explains. But Friday doesn’t mind she says, so long as he promises to always come back. And Stephen doesn’t mind agreeing, he wants to keep seeing her too, after all. So they continue like that, Stephen stopping by whenever he can, engaging in different topics and eagerly encouraging all of Friday’s new interests. And Friday listens to a man who speaks as though he’s millions of years older than he looks, holding on to each word he speaks with keen and fascination. Shielding him away from the rest of her creators world with fierce care and sensible worry. She knew what many of them thought of the doctor when he wasn’t around. She’d been there when they’d hated him in private. For a while, she almost did too. But now, seeing him as he was, a broken, sad and worn down man she wonders how she could’ve even entertained the thought. Because Stephen Strange doesn’t have to tell her, she knows, he loved boss too. So she keeps him, her own little secret, hidden from anyone who would take him away from her. Because she’s come to care for him as well. And she doesn’t want to lose him either.

Everything changes when Stephen stops by one night, frantic and harried as he lands in the center of the lab. She can see his hands are shaking harder than usual and she wants to say something, anything to comfort him but the look in his eyes tells her there’s no time. The words tumble out of his mouth in one go, “I’m sorry...”, “I have to go...”,”I’ll miss you.”, “Goodbye.” and through the panic that seizes Friday she almost doesn’t process all he says. And something feels like it’s breaking, but when Stephen begs her to say anything, she can’t. Because saying anything feels like accepting something horrifyingly familiar. In the haze Friday can remember someone long ago, saying something similar right before he left...right before he died. Stephen tries not to let the disappointment show, and instead steadies himself and puts on a strained smile and waves goodbye. He turns to go but stops before he’s gone, and tells her one final thing. “Thank you.” Friday stays silent.

Days go by without a single appearance from Stephen, and Friday tries not to let fear overtake her. She busies herself with going through previous subjects her and Stephen discussed. But then the days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months and before Friday knows it, the leaves have fallen from the trees and snow has blanketed all of New York. But still, Stephen never appears. Slowly she switches from looking through subjects through looking back through old video feed. Comforting herself in the worst moments with videos of Stephen laughing softly, or smiling approvingly when she’s reached a new milestone. Friday didn’t have to feel sadness twice to know she hated it, but it seems her creator didn’t anticipate that she would be loyal to anyone else after him. So Friday slowly stops going over information, stops watching the videos (they hurt to much now), and eventually stops trying to process anything all together. But even then when pain coils around all her systems and floods her very being, settling deep and heavy she waits. Stephen promised after all. So she lulls in between being on and off, because it’s better than wanting to cry and not being able to.

Friday is barely “awake” when something crashes into the lab, alerting her. And she almost sounds off all the alarms and security systems till she remembers that only one person could breach them to begin with. She’s quickly alert, calling out for the doctor and scanning the area when she finally spots him. Barely standing, and soaked in blood, wobbling over on shaky legs before he collapses to his knees. She calls out to him but he only smiles, warm and kind like always, “Sorry for making you wait.”, and passes out completely right in the middle of the lab. Cloak wrapping up around him dutifully like always. A quick scan lets Friday know the doctor is scarcely alive, hanging by a thread and she panics. She doesn’t care in that moment if he hates her after, or if she never sees him again. She doesn’t want him to die. So she calls for help, and waits.

Stephen wakes up in a daze, feeling groggy as he tries to swallow. The room around him is white, and the smell of disinfectant hangs low in the air while beeping noises disrupt him from the side. Finally realization settles in and he almost topples over when he sits up. He immediately regrets the movement though when pain flares through his side, slowly coursing through the rest of his body and he lets out a groan. He briefly registers the cloak trying to coax him back down but he struggles through it. Then, he hears it. The soothing Irish voice that had become so familiar in the previous months. Friday. Her voice echoes through the room, enveloping him in a tender hold and soothing all his nerves as she tells him everything’s ok. Confusion must be clear across his face because she tells him to look down to his left, and there she is, on the side table encased in a new perfectly sleek Starkphone. A little note wedged carefully beneath her. ‘Take good care of her-P’. And Stephen can’t help but stare in awe, wonder settling deep within and swirling around like swarm of butterflies inside him. He can’t even register Friday or the cloaks concerns because he’s to busy drowning in the flood of emotions that envelop him. Because even through fourteen million six hundred and five possibilities, Friday followed. Through every torment and onslaught of horror every lifetime crushed him in, Friday’s love for him still managed to sneak through and find it’s way into this universe too. So Stephen cries, because he can’t help it. Because she’s there, right beside him, like she was so many times before.

From then on Friday becomes a permanent resident of the sanctum and dependable travel companion to him and the cloak. After a few trial and errors, and with her help of course, she gets installed in the sanctum. He still keeps the phone- as she’s quick to remind him, he never has to leave her waiting again. She settles in well with Wong too, (the cloak had already expressed approval all those months ago) he appreciates how smart she is and she joins him in chastising Stephen when he pushes himself to hard. She never feels unwelcome from either of them, Stephen’s other family, because ultimately she loves Stephen too. And as the seasons change, this new place isn’t so new anymore and instead earns the title of home. And she settles in for a different kinda of chaos, welcomed none the less because it’s Stephen’s and she decides she’s happy. Through the bright days, when the sanctum is quiet and Stephen studies the day away. Through the difficult days when Stephen has to wander off fighting evil entities. Through the nights when Stephen lays awake trying to keep awful thoughts at bay. It’s good. And in between, during private little moments reserved just for the two of them, as the only two in the sanctum who can speak on the matter. When the pain becomes to much and they find solace with each other they mourn, over the man they both loved to much for having spent to little time with. It’s ok though, because they have each other. And Friday never feels lonely again.

#ironstrange #Stephen Strange #Tony Stark #FRIDAY #Iron Man #Doctor Strange #prompt #kinda went crazy with it tho #but listen #these two would get on well