#just woke up and i think the world just swallowed me and i got transported to hell what is going on

[hyunpic]

HYUNJIN for ELLE KOREA & CARTIER

#hyunjin #skz #stray kids #just woke up and i think the world just swallowed me and i got transported to hell what is going on #he looks like he’s trapped in the saw bathroom in some of these and got told to slay to get out like ah hh hhhhhhh

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 22)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,600

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

He’s been gone all morning. You don’t know where he went and you didn’t ask before he left. Whatever it was, you weren’t too concerned, anyway. It was about time you two had some space. It helped clear your mind and helped you move on. You were moving on.

There was another reason you were thankful he had left for the morning. You could feel the chills run up the sides of your arms, goosebumps appearing where your skin was once smooth.

You eyed the closet doors curiously. It was almost eerie how quiet it was around you. You dropped your eyes for only a moment before raising them up again.

You had to do this. You were going to do this.

You finally gather the balls to do something you’ve been wanting to for some time now. It had been eating away at you like mad.

Once in front of the closet, you crouch down. You raise your left hand slowly roll the doors open, your eyes immediately dart down to the little black box on the ground. Exactly where he’d left it.

Part of you was happy that it remained untouched.

Per Steve’s orders, you had both buried any of your weaponry about a mile before reaching the wall nearly three months ago. You weren’t supposed to be bring any inside with you. It was forbidden.

It had shocked you when you and Bucky had been arguing about going after Ashen and he had pulled out a G19, angrily strapping it onto his leg to prove a point. He obviously snuck it in. At the time, you hadn’t really given it much thought. You were more shocked that he ignored his best friend’s request.

Now, it concerned you for different reasons.

You sat criss cross in front of the box, staring at it for a few more long seconds. Taking in a deep breath, you opened it. It opened with a small click.

There it was.

Matte black. Subtle but deadly.

You eyed the gun like it was a ticking bomb. You’ve never held a fire arm before, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were nervous. You were nervous to know why the hell he had it stacked away in your bedroom when you knew he didn’t even have the intention of killing anyone on this mission. He made sure to make you aware of this, many times.

You also knew it wasn’t to be used on you. There was no way.

The only other plausible reason he had it, kept you on edge.

You didn’t want your thoughts going there.

You reached slowly for the gun until you felt it lay heavy in your right hand. It was heavier than it looked. It felt deadlier than it looked.

You swallowed thickly, allowing yourself to think the worst.

Was he going to use this on himself?

You suddenly wanted it as far away from you as possible.

Your hand trembled slightly as you put it back in its place, letting your fingers linger on the ridges for just a moment.

You let out a long breath realizing.

When you had eyed the closet, you didn’t really think it through.

What were you going to do once you had it in your hands? Were you going to get the gun and hide it? Were you just curious? Was there something about it that secretly terrified you and you weren’t going to believe you really saw him hold it until you held it yourself?

You shake your head, pushing the box back into its original place. You were over exaggerating.

He probably just brought it in case you both needed it for self protection.

You looked over at your black back pack right next to it and pulled it out.

You fished inside, looking at different things you forgot you still had. You had your grey sweater, scarf, and beat up boots at the bottom. It smelled dusty.

You stuck your hand into the front pocket of the backpack, pulling out a note. It wasn’t your first time reading it, but you need the gentle reminder.

Thank you again for doing this. Thank you for helping me out and for agreeing to our plan to help Bucky be happy again. We can do this together. That plan, to me, is the most important thing right now. Thank you for doing whatever it takes to mentally convince him he deserves happiness. What you’re doing means the world to me, y/n. See you both again very soon. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Steve

You felt small tears in your eyes at your promise. If only he knew how it wasn’t so easy. You closed your eyes tightly together, took a deep breath, and placed the note onto your chest.

I’ll keep trying.

+ +

You didn’t understand these jobs that came with your ID. You didn’t understand most of what you were being told to do, but you did it anyway.

At the end of the day, your number one plan was to still kill Ashen. So you went through with what Bucky ordered you to do until it was time.

Your first day at the tower started off better than how you thought it would. Mr. Hyde was a old gentleman in his late 50s. He had short white hair and a nicely trimmed white beard to compliment it. He knew you were learning and that this would be your first time working up to a secretary job, so he started you off with small assistant duties like transporting paper work around the building, scheduling, and grabbing anything personal he may need here and there.

The best part was when he gave you a tour of the building, the whole reason you even were excited about it. Maybe this was why this was written into the mission.

He explained to you what each floor was but never took you past floor 15. You eyed the buttons on the elevator suspiciously.

He said that wasn’t their area and that “we didn’t need to worry about it”. You needed a special code to access those floors anyway.

You quickly made a connection. You wondered how Bucky had gotten in the other day.

The atmosphere in the elevator went cold when you stopped somewhere on the seventh floor and a man dressed in black and gold walked in. It was a fitted suit, expensive looking, and he had a cold look in his eyes. You swallowed thickly, looking away from him. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to conceal your tattoo as much as you could.

Something about this man was off.

You heard the term Coroner a lot when you worked serving drinks. They weren’t the coroner most people knew, they were cop meets bounty hunter.

There was just something about them that left you uneasy. He stood in front of you and you felt yourself shuffle back a few inches. You looked over at Mr. Hyde and he gave you a small smile.

You smiled back.

+ +

It wasn’t until your fourth day at the building when things finally took a turn.

Bucky was going to meet you at a stairwell for floor eleven. He was going to trace Silas down once and for all. The night after the ball, Bucky was went traced them down to see where they would take the new import. According to what he overheard, there had been some complications and it wouldn’t be administered until today.

You got up from your seat, pretending you were just looking for the restroom, when you turned down the narrow hallway and went for the door that led into the stairwell.

You had three floors to climb up to meet him.

You were on the ninth floor when you turned the corner of the stairs and your heart nearly jumped up into your throat.

His face, his hair, his eyes, and his damn voice.

It all hit you at once and you turned back the direction you came from, leaning back against the steal rods. You put a hand up to your head as you felt dizzy. You could feel your heart beating away like crazy and you felt that anger you harbored down for so long.

It was him. The face from the diner and the face of the man that killed your mom and dad.

Ashen.

And he was with another woman.

“He’s our child and he’s dying!” The woman shouted. You could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know but there’s not much else I can do,” the voice. It was deep and violent. You hated it. You hated him, “He woke up this morning, cured! Without us even giving him the dose of the chemical. It’s obvious his plasma contains some kind of fending off mechanism. It took years, but he obviously survived it and no longer has it.”

You took a deep breath as you processed what you were hearing.

Had the little boy been infected with the virus, but now was doing well?

“And?” The woman insisted.

“And?” An evil laugh came from within Ashen’s chest, “We need all his blood, goddamn it! We need it distributed to our men if we want our side to stay strong once we go out there!”

“You can’t possibly still think—“

“It’s our world —“

“But we are safe here. Our son is safe here!”

“You didn’t think we’d all stay stuck in here for all eternity, did you? Hydra and Sword is to control the world, not the city. These walls kept us safe long enough and our son is well now, and we might have the cure in our hands. It’s all we need to conquer.”

You could hear sniffling.

“You can’t kill our son.” The woman begged.

“No,” he said slowly, “Not yet at least. We need trial periods.”

“Ashen, please-“

“I sacrificed everything for him!” A shriek followed by a gruntled groan came from the woman and you wondered what he was doing to her, “I cut the plan short, of us taking the capitol, because of him! I was minding my own business that night before I got the call. I took the risks, I found the refuge, I found the goods, and I called an initiative, and now look at us, we’re all safe. And our son just also happens to be the possible cure for all of this. If Hydra completing this mission requires my son’s life, so be it.”

“I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let you pick at him with needles and knives. He is my baby boy!”

“Was, honey, was.” You could hear a loud smack, “And after him, you’re next.”

“What?”

“Now let’s get back in there and congratulate him.”

You could still feel your heart beating away inside of your ears as you heard the shuffling of their feet, followed by the closing of a door.

This was way too much information for you to process. This was too much for you. Suddenly, you cursed Bucky for making you work intel. Intel was the worst part.

You knew this information and now you had to tell him without freaking out, or worst, freaking him out.

It didn’t take much longer for a familiar face to turn the corner of the stairwell.

His blue eyes met yours over his scarf.

“What the hell are you doing here, I said eleventh —-“ his voice faltered as he watched your stricken face. His own eyes fell and he raised a hand to the back of your head and caressed it softly, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I—“ you whimpered out. Bucky hushed you as he leaned his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes tightly together, “I—he—“

“Breathe. Breathe. Breath for me.”

You took in a deep breath and controlled your breathing.

When you opened your eyes he was staring straight down at you.

“I saw him.” Bucky’s eyes darted over your face, knowing exactly what you were talking about. Who you were talking about, “I saw him.” You repeat again. He nods, “I can’t stay here, Bucky. Not when he’s here. He killed mom and dad, Bucky.” You whimpered into a cry.

“Hey, shhhh,” he brought his hand to your jaw and ran his thumb there gently, “shhh. I’m sorry,” he straightens his head up over yours and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I’m sorry you saw him.”

You ran your hands up his chest and softly pushed him away from you. Bucky’s face fell, along with his hands at his sides. You looked away from him, running the back of your sweater-clothed hand underneath your nose.

You needed to create distance. You and him, whatever it was, was no more.

“I overheard them.”

“Them?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes, them. Him and what I can only imagine is maybe his wife? I don’t know, it was another woman. The little boy’s mother.”

Bucky took a deep breath.

“Okay, and what did they say?”

“He’s going to kill him. He can potentially save us, save all of us, but instead he’s going to kill him, I—I—“ you were freaking out as your ran both hands down your face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The boy!” You shouted quietly, pointing to the direction where the stairs continued. “Ashen is after the boy. He’s going to kill the mom and he’s after the boy, too.”

“What? Why? Why is he after his own son?”

You took a deep breath and met Bucky’s gaze again. His jaw was tight and he looked apprehensive.

“They think the cure is in his plasma.” You say slowly and carefully, knowing how much weight the words held.

“The cure?”

“For the virus. The boy’s blood.”

Bucky let out a long breath, running a hand through his own hair now and pulling on it.

“And why does he want the child dead? Does he not want the cure?”

“No, no he does.”

“What? He wants it just for himself?” You whined as you looked away again, “Y/N, you came on this mission for this reason. It’s for you to give me the important information you have right at this moment. Tell me, why does he want the boy dead?”

“He says he wants to make enough just for Hydra and Sword,” Bucky’s face went pale, “I’m assuming it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else after that having access to it. He kills the boy, no more cure for anyone else.”

“That,” his tongue clicks, “That’s absurd. Hydra wants to recruit more bad, not kill off the remaining race. It defeats the purpose of world domination.”

“I think they have a change of plans. They said they want to control the rest of the world.”

“With a raging virus? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. That was all he said before I heard him choking his wife. I don’t know what they plan to do after they go out there, protected. I don’t know.”

“And in that vile? What was in the vile?”

“I don’t know, a trial drug. But nothing as good as the boy’s blood.”

Bucky lets out a long breath as he walks back and forth, clearly stressed and overwhelmed. You watched him, intrigued. You’ve never seen him worry like this before.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mumbles under his breath, “What do we do? What do we do.”

You stare down at his feet as they continue to move across the floor.

“I think it’s obvious what we need to do.”

“What?”

“We need to take him.” You say seriously, looking Bucky dead in the eye.

“We need to take him.” He says back.

“We can’t let Hydra have access to the cure and let the rest of the world burn and we can’t get him get killed.” You place a hand on Bucky’s arm to stop him and he looks up at you. You could practically see the emotions in his eyes, “He’s just a little boy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t just go in there and take the kid. I can’t just kidnap someone’s child.”

“Why not?” You ask simply.

Bucky lets out a scoff.

“What?”

“Bucky look at the stakes here. He wants him killed, he’ll build an army to dictate the rest of the world. Bucky we have no other option. This is the end of the world. There is no time for common courtesy.”

“Okay. Okay, just relax. We need to plan this through, okay? So far us two and his parents are the only ones who know about him right?”

“I mean his doctor probably knows too and also the scientist he’s working with. The man who probably sent in those viles.”

“Those viles can be good too, right? We need to take those, too. At least a few. There has to be a reason they brought them in. Maybe they aren’t timely useless. Trial drug or not.”

“So we take the boy, now—”

“We can’t, y/n.” Bucky says strictly. You don’t expect his hand to cup your cheek again. It takes your breath away. Why was he behaving this way? “He said he’ll wait anyway. They probably need to run tests first. We still have two and a half months left in here. If we take him now, they’ll notice he’s gone, and Hydra’s already suspecting there’s intruders inside the wall. It’s too risky. We need to wait,” he runs his hand over your chin and tilts his head slowly to the side. A pained look is in his eyes, “I know you want to, and I want to, too, but we need to do this carefully.”

“So what do you suggest?” Your voice comes out rough.

“I don’t know, maybe we can keep an eye on him or something.” He says. “His father works here, maybe you’ll see him around. Warm up to him. Make sure he’s safe.”

“Ashen knows what I look like.”

Bucky nods.

“I know that. Maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe I can find where he stays in the building. I’ll figure something out. And you’ll be safe, I promise. He won’t see you.”

You believe Bucky’s words and you nod.

“Okay.”

“What do you think? Should we risk him seeing me?” He says with a small smile on his face.

You look at him incredulously.

“Are you dumb?”

“What?” He asks like it’s nothing.

“You’re Captain America’s best fiend. If you really think he wouldn’t recognize you right away and run and tell his dad, you’re insane.”

___

It had been a successful day. It was exhausting and you and Bucky were both clearly burnt out, emotionally and mentally. A lot happened for both of you. You both took a shower, individually of course, you had dinner and you finally got him to watch the first half of Titanic. It was a long night.

But it wasn’t the end of the day yet.

You sat on the bed crisscross and in your PJs, looking out into the city, deep in thought.

Bucky moves over to you and across the bed and you close your eyes tightly together, feeling the bed dip down. You can feel him as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll save him, okay? Imagine how much Steve will love us when you come back not only with a life saved, but with the cure.” His words are gentle and sweet, but hold so much weight over you.

You couldn’t do this. You made that promise a few days ago.

“Look, Bucky I don’t think we should do this anymore. Our agreement.” You say quietly, your voice breaking off at the end.

He went still and you felt a cold rush where he began to remove his hand from your skin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that—“

“Bucky—“

“I didn’t know you weren’t in the mood. I’m sorry.”

“No,” you say quietly and so heartbreakingly slow that you know he can feel it too. Why did it feel this way? “It’s not that.” You slowly turn around to face him. He’s got both arms stretched down on the bed below him, palms down, and he’s staring at you like he was afraid you would hurt him again like you did the other night. You looked away from him and pushed yourself away to give you both more room to breathe

“Sweetheart—“

“I’ve decided to go out with Pietro again,” You watch as his eyes drop from your own to the spot just next to your arm. He swallows hard and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that isn’t necessarily jealously, “We want to see where it goes. I know we’ll only be here a little while longer, but who knows the future, right? What if I see him again?”

Bucky swallows again and clears his throat.

“It wouldn’t feel right doing that to him.”

“Oh.”

“So, uh,” he straightens himself out until he’s standing, and he pulls his shirt down in a sort of fidgety way you almost find adorable if it weren’t for the heartbroken look in his eyes, “you’re gonna date?”

You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t bare.

Why did it feel like this?

“Yeah. I deserve someone that will take care of me like that, don’t you think?”

Bucky’s eyes are unreadable at that point. This was what he wanted, right? For you to move on and meet someone better for you?

“You’ll find a guy your age, you don’t want an old thing like me, anyway.”

“You do.” It hurt him to say it. It fucking destroyed him in the goddamn core.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ 

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x y/n #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #bucky

[bemylord]

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱᴘᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴏᴛ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ

characters: probably all in the aot world.

warnings: au, modern to aot, superpower, action, curse words, might be spoilers, deviation from the canon, my broken sence of humor, open final.

synopsis: you have woke up in the cellar, feeling a terrible headache as you opened eyes, you could barely see faces in front of you - it's all a blur. the next thing you heard is: 'kill her?' and 'no, we need her alive'

butler's remark: i hope you're doing well, today i made @gipumar request but! it's not over yet. i'll, i guess, write four and final [final would be a drabble] parts. i started from the first season and to the last one. [i'm watching last season rn]. reader is a titan! i also watched 1st season and second a couple of months ago, so i may have forgotten smth, but it's my au, and there will be a slight deviation from the canon. + reader and levi having their attitude.

➝ back to the main master list.

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

you couldn't see anything - you've got a headache, tinnitus, you also can't move, as you couldn't feel your body - you wanted to open eyes, but again, every slightest movements causes unbearable pain all over the body. your overhear someone voice, or voices, or it's your imagination is playing with you. you mumbled, not being able to mutter out half a word.

'what's wrong? i've had drink a lot yesterday, jesus christ.'

the five human senses begin to activate, as if after a long time in a disconnected mode. you tossed your head back as you feel your muscles, barely feel the rest of the body as if is a closed location where you need access.

'kill her?'

'no, we need her alive'

as you overhear unknown voices, that aren't belong to your family or friends, you did a step forwards, as handcuffs are holding you from escaping. from under your open eyelids, you could barely see anything: some kind of light on the left side and two men in front of you, standing behind .. jail grate?

'where..'

throat ached as you pronounce the word, close eyes. the clarity is starting to appear as you could feel your fingers and arms being handcuffed. slowly turned head to the right side to see the room you are, noticing some kind of anciety? the walls are made of brick, the floor also, incomprehensible handcuffs. you weren't a criminal, but the general knowledge of what a prison cell looks like you knew from movies and shows.

'where.. am i..'

you heard a slight giggle, turning head to the sound, noticing two man: one is tall and well-built, the blond one. the next one is smaller, he's leaning against the wall, not even peek at you.

'stupid bitch, you better be talking right now. who are you and what you were planning to do, br-'

'levi! we had talked about it, calm down.'

as they quarrel, you've got an opportunity to scrutinize their state: the blond guy is clearly the captain or leader - the way he sits and his way of speaking, significantly different from the other guy.

the short one is obviously mad or annoyed, maybe you ain't good at reading people but he isn't looking at you, shows his irritation by gesture: arms crossed over his chest as he scows and half-mutter under his breath.

'who are you?' you suddenly asked, unawares them. 'why.. where? the fuc-'

'i told you, erwin, that pathetic bitch doesn't.. fine, i'll be quiet'

erwin. levi. who are they? what are you doing here? lots of questions - any answers.

you find yourself being on your knees as your wrists in the handcuffs. you wear ridiculous and funny clothes - a long linen shirt, probably for man, but you could feel you're wearing the only shirt.

your eyes widened at the of thought what they did to you while you were sleeping, moved hands forward as the chance to break the shackles. you failed, feeling pain in your shoulders.

'who are you? what happened? i'll call the police you're perverts!'

'the court wants to kill you, you'd better not move.'

the court? kill? girl, you have troubles. a big-big one.

'please, what happened? did i kill someone? did i.. what? i'll call to my lawyer'

erwin, as you might remember right, sigh, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. the guy next to him giggled, holding himself from offensive phrases.

'you are a titan, girl. yes, you saved us and our town from the titan whilst eren was plugging the hole in the wall.'

'titan? how did i end up here?'

'a bright flash appeared in the sky and then we saw you - in a titan guise.'

you raise one eyebrow, pondering over words the blond said. titan? your knowledge on the theme 'titan' is poor. in the modern world, not many people are interested or being keen on that theme. vampires, werewolves, witches, sorcerers [jjk, lol] - is favorite theme for fantasy movies.

you smiled, to which the boys frowned. you smirked first, before you burst out laughing out loud. titan? did you saved a town? nice prank it was.

'come on, nice prank it was. but i have a headache and also i want to rest 'cause tomorrow i have a math test and my teacher will kill me if i won't be there.'

levi smiles as he heard you.

'do what you've planned, i won't interfere.'

'finally.'

levi opened the door grate with a foot, immediately make a fist of your hair, tossed your head back.

'i don't care you're woman or man, you'll take your punishment. prank? lawyer? you make up new words, you trashy girl.'

the way he looks into your eyes, practically choking you, as you're hard to swallow your saliva either take a deep breath. first, you thought he's the weak one, not having force at all. just being a regular soldier who's following someone's orders.

'listen, you will walk with us and we will show you the wall, maybe you'd remember the action if not - prepare your pretty face'

he took the shackles off you, letting his hands carelessly fall onto your knees as you feel his hands on your wrists with an order: i didn't tell you i give you the recovery time.

the hallway they are leading you is full of soldiers with a weapon in their arms who're following you with their eyes on you, whispering each other.

you turned right and left a few times before finding yourself on a small ledge where the town was spread out like the palm of your hand.

where is your city? where are you?

you are scared to ask 'the weak' one, contemplate on the unknowing town. small houses, without any skyscrapers, without cars, roads, without anything familiar to your world.

prank's out of control.

'it can't be true, i don't understand..' you make a step forward, as if to verify if it's accurate. 'i've transported into another world, it can't be true, where is.. police? explain me something, captain, huh?'

'stohess. the city you are in now. perhaps you're as much help from another world as you're a mighty titan.'

stohess. europe? america? maybe it's a small town somewhere in the... somewhere in the world. your world.

'do you remember something?'

he turned his head to your face, waiting for the negative answer. yes, you noded. you couldn't remember anything from what and who you were, how you ended up being here. but you told him something about the country you live. well, you had been leaving.

'someone must have sent you to save our city, girl.'

'y/n. my name is y/n.'

he stares at you like you're an idiot whilst you still examine the view. in front of you, far beyond in the center you noticed a huge figure - titan, - you wanted to ask, but levi was the first.

'right, titan. if it weren't for you, he would have killed half the city, crushing everything in his path. don't waste our time, girl.'

'it's hard to think when i'm under the pressure'

he turned around to leave.

'then, it means i need to kill you today. breathe fresh air while your head is on your shoulders.'

(≧◡≦) love leaving people guessing what will next. i'm sorry for this short part. i need to go out of town for a few days, so i'll leave the next part for later. tomorrow or the day after tomorrow i want to write a little drabble about yaoi, it'll kenma x kuroo, just sfw.

#aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #aot levi #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #erwin smith #aot #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot scenario #attack on titan scenarios

[pretchatta]

swoon june day 30: reunion/finding each other

the last one! swoon june is now over but I have had so much fun doing these prompts, a huge thank you to @chaos-company for hosting this event!

I've saved the best 'til last. from the moment I read the prompt list I knew I would be finishing on this one - the prompt was too perfect not to. this is my take on how rebels should have ended!

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 2.4k words

---

“You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.” Ezra’s eyes were fixed on Kanan through the doorway, his mind working furiously.

“Yes, I do,” Ahsoka said calmly. “You can’t save–”

“We just have to hold back the flames long enough to pull him through the door!” Ezra interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about this for days – replaying this moment in my head – there is time!”

“Ezra–”

“I can do this!”

He stopped listening to Ahsoka. Closing his eyes, Ezra reached forwards with the Force, through the doorway to where Kanan stood. Both of his master’s arms were outstretched, one holding back the flames that were licking their way up the cracked fuel pod and the other holding back a desperate, frantic Hera. Ezra could feel the fire’s energy, the intensity of it, and was struck with the same awe he had been when he’d lived this night for the first time. Kanan was holding this inferno back one-handed. He, Ezra, would only be able to do that for a few seconds.

He got ready to pull.

Kanan turned to face away from the blaze and used all his strength to push Hera and the patrol transport out of harm’s way. That was Ezra’s moment. He braced himself to hold the flames back and pulled on Kanan, stumbling as the sudden intensity of the explosion his master had been restraining hit him. He felt Kanan come flying towards the doorway with more speed and less effort than he expected – Ahsoka was helping him.

A split second later Kanan’s body struck him and Ezra crumpled under the impact. He lost his focus, feeling the fireball expand unrestrained. Flames filled the doorway’s line of sight, but none came through.

“Kanan!” Hera’s broken cry still came through over the roar of the inferno, as well as another sound – was that a howling wolf? Then it all faded; the door had closed.

“Kanan?” Ezra groaned, winded.

He shoved Kanan off with a grunt and rolled over. Ahsoka came to stand beside him.

“Kanan?”

He hadn’t moved. Ezra grabbed his shoulders and shook, but the scarred eyes remained closed.

“Kanan! Wake up!”

Ezra felt Ahsoka’s hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think we were supposed to do that,” she said. Her voice was the same calm, even tone it had been before, but there was a slight shakiness to it now.

“What do you mean? We saved him!”

“Use your senses, Ezra. What do you feel?”

For the first time, doubt spiked Ezra’s heart. He sat back on his heels and closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force to his master. He ignored the way the Force seemed closer in this place, and how strangely devoid of life it felt; he focused only on Kanan, and on the bright beacon that was his presence.

Except… It wasn’t as bright as it had been before. It wasn’t darker, exactly, but it was somehow… Less. Like it was missing something.

“What – what happened?” Ezra asked, starting to feel afraid. “What’s wrong with him?”

Ahsoka looked uncertain. “I don’t know.”

They were interrupted from saying anything further by a distant rumbling sound.

Ahsoka was immediately alert. “We can’t stay here. You opened the door to this world. Do you know how to close it?”

“Sabine will know,” Ezra replied. “We can do it together. They’ll be so happy to see you and Kanan.” He started moving around Kanan, getting his arms under his shoulders to lift him.

Ahsoka made no move to help. “I can’t go with you, and I don’t think Kanan should either.”

“What?” Ezra froze in surprise. “No, I can’t leave him. I can’t leave either of you after I just–”

“You’ll see us both again. But I have a feeling we should all return to the real world through the doorway we came through.” She bent to help him with Kanan. “I’ll help you put Kanan back into the wreckage of that explosion, and then I must return to Malachor.”

“Alright. I trust your feelings.” They picked up Kanan’s unconscious form between them and moved back towards the doorway. It started to open as they approached, onto the rubble that gleamed in the light of the two moons. “When I’m back, I’ll go straight to the factory to get him back. It’s only been a few days, and we didn’t see any stormtroopers checking the ruins. How will I find you?”

“Perhaps I can…”

They both turned to see a strange blue light coming from a distant doorway. In unison, they turned to each other and reached an unspoken understanding. Quickly yet gently Kanan was lowered to the ground beyond the doorway and to relative safety.

Then, Ezra and Ahsoka ran.

---

Hera was working on maintenance. That’s what she was telling herself. It didn’t matter that there hadn’t been anything wrong with the caf machine before she’d started; it was always playing up, there was bound to be some part of it that needed fixing. That it was a useful distraction from the grief that clawed at her insides and threatened to drown her from within was only a bonus. She wouldn’t take apart a perfectly functioning piece of machinery just to avoid being left alone with her thoughts. That was ridiculous.

She heard the sound of the Phantom’s engines outside and put down her tools. That would be Ezra and Zeb returning, and she was curious what they had been doing. As soon as they’d all returned to the Ghost from the incident at the Jedi Temple (or the area where the Temple had formerly stood) Ezra had been acting strange. He’d insisted on going on some mission that was vitally important but he’d refused to give anyone any details, including the only person he would allow to come with him.

As Hera stood up to leave the galley she realised she could hear the shuttle landing outside. That was strange – why wouldn’t Ezra dock with the Ghost? She gladly let the mystery of Ezra’s behaviour consume her thoughts as she walked down the ramp.

Outside, Ezra was emerging from the back hatch of the Phantom. He had a slightly dazed expression on his face, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Behind him Zeb was following, holding something in his arms. That would explain the landing – it was often awkward to get cargo down the ladder.

Actually, was that cargo? It looked like–

Ezra stood aside to give her full view of what – or who – Zeb was holding. Hera gasped.

“Is that – is he –”

“He’s alive,” Ezra said.

Hera let out a strangled sob and ran forward. His name caught at the back of her throat, unable to come out. She reached Zeb but her hands hovered over the body in his arms, unsure of where to go – there were no visible injuries, not even burns. Half of her wanted to touch all of him at once, and the other half was scared that if she did, her hands would pass right through and he wouldn’t be real. Eventually they settled on his face, and a soft cry escaped her lips as her fingers brushed warm skin. Kanan was alive.

“He won’t wake up,” Ezra continued, and Hera could hear traces of a scared little boy in his voice. “And I don’t know why.”

“He’ll wake up.” She swallowed. “He has to wake up.” If she said it confidently enough; if they all believed it hard enough...

“What do we do with him?” Zeb asked.

Hera could feel the maelstrom of emotions building inside of her, but there was no time for that now. Her crew needed her. Kanan needed her.

“Take him to his bunk. There’s not much we can do for him right now – we can’t even get off Lothal. But he’ll be safe there.”

Zeb started walking, but Hera was unwilling to let go of Kanan. She ended up walking backwards, the three of them awkwardly manoeuvering through the Ghost until they reached Kanan’s bunk. As they passed Sabine’s room she heard the faint sound of music and the hiss of spray paints. She couldn’t wait to tell Sabine.

Hera only needed a little nudging from Zeb to move out of the way so that he could put Kanan down. She desperately wanted to go back to him, to lay down next to him and physically feel his body next to hers, warm and alive and here. But she held herself back, and when Ezra called to her from the corridor she went out to speak to him.

“Hera – about Lothal…” he began. “I have a plan.”

He gave her a serious look.

“I know how we can get rid of the Empire for good.”

---

Kanan woke up.

It took a few moments for him to register that there was anything wrong with that. He was lying in his own bunk, with the Ghost’s engines a quiet background hum and the distant sounds of other people coming from elsewhere in the ship. Then he moved his head slightly and felt the short stubble on his head and the air moving against the bare skin of his chin.

He was awake.

The last thing he remembered was the heat. The intense, searing heat of the burning fuel, and the light… it had been so bright. And he had seen it. For a few moments, he had seen. He could remember Ezra and Hera’s faces, the sight of them blissful and yet heart-wrenching at the same time. Ezra’s eyes had been wide with horror, and Hera’s beautiful face had been twisted in agony.

When the wolves had told him that he was going to die, he’d known it would hit his family hard. But he also knew how strong they were, Hera most of all, and how they would help each other through it. At least they would be alive to get through it, he had told himself. That was all that mattered to him.

So how was he alive too?

He sat up. He was still blind, that much was obvious. Whatever had allowed him to have those few moments of vision just before he’d let go of the flames had apparently been temporary. He ran a hand over his face; no burns, just the old scar over his eyes. Physically he felt fine. He felt around the bunk, feeling how the blanket over him was rumpled and folded back beside him, as though someone else had at one point been sleeping next to him. He swung his legs out to stand on the floor, and that was then he realised what was missing.

The Force was gone.

The vast web that connected him to the universe, the energy that constantly flowed around and through him, the extra senses that helped him to see without his eyes – it was all gone. How could that happen? Was it somehow related to his miraculous survival? Had he somehow given up his Force abilities in order to return to his family?

He wouldn’t find the answers by staying here. Carefully, he made his way to the door. He didn’t need the Force for this; the interior of the Ghost was as familiar to him as his own body. Out in the corridor he could tell that the sounds of people were coming from the cockpit, so that was where he directed himself.

He reached the end of the corridor through the crew quarters and stood before the door to the cockpit. Through it he could hear Ezra’s voice, though it sounded strange – tinny, as though coming from a hologram. He hit the door controls.

“I couldn’t have wished for a better family. I can’t wait to come home.”

He recognised the sound of static cutting out, as though a recording had been switched off, and Kanan remembered the other things the wolves had shown him. What would happen to his family after he was gone. What his sacrifice would allow to happen. They must have done it – Lothal was free, and Ezra was gone.

No-one seemed to have noticed his entrance; he assumed they were still recovering from Ezra’s message.

“Did I go a bit too hard on the self-sacrifice stuff?”

He heard the rustle of five heads turning towards him.

“Kanan!” Sabine’s overjoyed shout came from the co-pilot’s side of the cockpit, but he didn’t hear her move. Instead, he heard the familiar creak of the pilot’s chair and braced himself a moment before someone was throwing herself bodily into his arms.

He held her as tightly as she gripped him, her face pressed against his, their tears mingling on their cheeks. After a few moments, Kanan drew back enough to stroke a hand reverently over her cheek.

“You’re alive,” Hera whispered, her voice breaking as more tears began to flow.

“I’m alive,” he murmured back, doing his best to wipe them away with his thumb.

“And you’re okay!”

He could feel her cheeks forming a smile under his palm. “Well, I can’t see you any more.”

“What have I told you, love,” she said, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. Her hand cupped his face as she pulled him down for a kiss.

Their moment on the fuel pod didn't seem that long ago, yet the kiss was the sweetest Kanan could remember. He could have spent forever in that moment with Hera.

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Sabine called, and Kanan heard the others finally moving towards him.

He felt Hera let go reluctantly, though she kept one hand on the small of his back as the rest of his family moved in for their reunions. Sabine wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, Zeb almost cracked his ribs with his crushing embrace, Rex gave him several slaps on the back with his and even Mart Mattin came in for a hug. Everyone was talking excitedly over each other, exclamations and questions filling the air, none of which Kanan knew how to answer.

One voice that caught his ear, however.

“At the end of his message, what Ezra said…” he heard Sabine say. “‘I’m counting on you’. Do you think he means to go after him?”

Kanan didn’t know who she was talking to, but he answered anyway.

“I think he does. And I think I know where you should start looking.”

#kanera #swoonjune2021 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #kanan x hera #sw rebels #jedi night #fix it #kanan lives #sw fic #star wars fic #fic #pretchwritta #swoon june

[sunkaashi]

solo carol  — oikawa toru x reader

genre: angst with a fluff twist.

warnings: none.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: sometimes, the holidays can bring out the best and the worst feelings in ourselves. being away from home during this time of year just makes it specially harder. oikawa toru always knew exactly what he wanted in life, but he never thought achieving his dreams would cost him so much.

tris' note: this was inspired by the song “only the brave” by louis tomlinson, but i'd say I added a lil of a twist to it. if you want, you can listen to it to help you get into the narrative. reblogs are always deeply appreciated and help me tons! ♡

a special thanks to @tetsunation for reading the first draft to this, and to @hcn421​ for helping me with my block ♡

© sunkaashi — 2020.  all rights reserved. do not repost, plagiarise it, translate it nor reproduce this post as your own.

Shades of red and yellow illuminated the street cobblestones, the gleaming Christmas lights guiding his way to a yet unknown destination. As he walked down the avenue, Oikawa let his eyes wander all over his surroundings, his gaze running almost as fast as his mind did. Despite that, Toru paced slowly along the sidewalk, soaking in the scenery before him. It really was a beautiful view.

But it wasn’t about the garlands wrapped around the streetlights, nor the shiny golden ornaments that delicately hanged from them. Even the decorated trees didn’t quite catch his attention that night. It was something else that fought for his heart instead. Something that he hadn’t had a taste of for a while now.

And tonight, his undying desire felt like being parched while standing in front of the sea.

Cheerful laughs echoed through the air as little children sprinted past him, unaware of the man’s presence. Yet, he didn’t mind, his sheepish giggle joining theirs. Downtown street bars buzzed with loud chatter, smiles painted on unfamiliar faces as a natural halo appeared to involve every single one of them. The warmth Oikawa felt rushing through his core had nothing to do with the sultry weather, rather, it emanated from that sight before his eyes.

Still, he seemed to lack a light of his own, and basking in other people’s glow, as joyful as it may be, comes with a price. Toru was left alone, only his shadow accompanying him through the night.

Staring at his silhouette reflecting onto the ground, the man moved his hand out of the pocket and to his nape, carefully watching his own contour mirroring him in every move. And even with every step taken that assured him a bond between himself and the dark figure, he still felt like something was out of place.

Oikawa could feel his slouched shoulders pushing him down. For a man who always stood with his head held high, there was only so much he could take. As he dragged his feet through the curb, he asked himself when it all changed so fast.

A quiver took over his body as if he refused to admit to that idea. He had it all, didn’t he? He sneered, lightly shaking his head. If he acted tough enough, maybe his thoughts would catch up to his actions, right? At least that’s what he wanted to believe.

Cracking his neck, he looked up to the clear summer sky, determined to push those thoughts away as if doing so would make it all magically fall back into place. As his eyes met the silver shimmer from the stars, which were shining a little brighter than they usually did, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the beauty of it. Most of all, he was struck by what it reminded him of. He thought back to Miyagi. To Japan. To home.

“Oji-san!” His nephew came running down in his direction, almost knocking him over with all the strength in his little body. “You’ll never believe what Santa got me for Christmas! Guess it, guess it!”

“Wow, calm down, kiddo!” Toru laughed as he held the 6-year-old into his arms. “Hm, let me think…” He said looking up to the ceiling and softly clasping his chin. “Legos?”

“Better than that!” The little guy answered while squinting in joy, eyes twinkling in a way his uncle had never seen before.

“Hm, a bike?” He asked calmly, messing with the kid, knowing that was the present he’d gotten last Christmas. The teenager tried to hold back a giggle, but mocking his nephew was just too much fun. 

“No, oji-san! It’s the coolest gift ever! Try again!”

“Is it a rocketship?” Toru said, widening his stare like even himself would be excited if that was the case. But the child sighed, rolling his eyes. Hiding a smirk, the older boy decided to stop playing around, finally giving in to the youngster’s wishes. “I give up! I have no idea! What is it!?"

“A volleyball! Just like yours!”

Oikawa smiled at the reminiscences lingering in the air, the memories immersing his senses back to the time and place he never wanted to leave. Closing his eyes, he could still feel the ghost of his nephew’s embrace, a tight and cozy grasp around his neck, saying more than words ever could. But his daydream didn’t last long enough to suppress the void hoovering his heart. As soon as he opened his lids, he was taken back to reality.

And then, just when he thought there was nothing else that could haunt him that night, a sore sight caught his attention, putting out the last flicker of flame that rested in his almond eyes.

It was just a glimpse, just some little specks of sand running down the hourglass of his life. Those few seconds usually would barely mean anything in the long run, but tonight that was enough to wash away his beam. Slightly furrowing his brows into a hurtful look, he tried to fight back the tears threatening to fall down his face.

An innocent couple running across the street, hands intertwined in a knot while brief chuckles scaped now and then, an exchange of accomplice looks giving out their most clandestine thoughts. It was at that moment, when unforgiving loneliness meets undeniable happiness, that Toru fell apart.

Slowly, he made his way to the building next to him, leaning his back onto the brick walls of the construction. He stood there, swallowing down the feelings that begged him to be screamed out.

He always knew he’d have to make sacrifices for his dreams. But all out of all the things he missed, there was only one that he would never forgive himself for letting go. And as he watched love surrounding him from every corner, it was impossible not to think of it. Not to think of you.

Raindrops cascaded down the windows of the apartment as the man dove himself further under the covers. Shrinking his body between the sheets, Oikawa felt a too familiar touch enveloping his torso, comforting him with a warmth that even sunlight could not compete with.

“Couldn’t you just stay like this all day?” Toru groaned as his fingers found their way to your locks, gently caressing your hair. 

“Mhm?” You hummed in response, too disoriented by your lack of sleep to even process what he was saying. Leisurely, you opened one of your eyes to peek at your boyfriend, lips instantly curling up into a smirk. 

“Nothing, love” He chortled. Oikawa didn't need to ask you again, he’d found his answer in the way you looked at him.

"Someone woke up in a good mood." You said, trying to tease the boy. "Santa must've gotten you a very special gift." 

"I'm looking at it right now." 

Brushing against your skin, his other hand played with the buttons of your shirt, the one you were too tired to take off the night before.

“I’m going to miss this. Miss you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. Not now, at least”

“But soon you will” You paused, a heavy silence filling the room. “Toru…" Before you could finish your sentence, he delicately pushed you away, placing one of his hands onto your chin, obliging you to look into his eyes. 

"Please… Let’s not think about that now.” Pulling you closer to his body, he held you tighter and tighter by the minute, afraid that if he ever let go, you’d slip away.

And you did.  

Looking back at it, he regretted everything. All the words left unsaid, all the things he should've done so that he’d have you in his arms right now. But you couldn't leave it all behind just to follow him to the other side of the world. Even if you wanted to, he would've never had the heart to ask you such a thing. 

So you both decided to break it off.

Yet, it had been two years and there wasn’t a single day when you didn’t cross his mind. And right now, when the pounding sound of bells resonated throughout the air, bringing him back to earth, Oikawa believed it must’ve been some kind of sign that you were the person he was thinking about. It was only then that Toru realized he was standing at a church. 

Step by step, he moved away from the wall, drawn by the chimes warning him that it was already midnight. Christmas time. Walking towards the olden gates of the holy ground, he contemplated the image in front of him, being hit by one final blow.

Families gathered all around the church, the words "Merry Christmas" being repeated over and over again as everyone exchanged smiles and caring hugs. Even if he wasn't necessarily a religious person himself, let alone christian, Toru still felt inspired by the passion radiating from them.

As the mass finally started, the loud buzzing of the crowd quieting down, he closed his eyes, his mind transporting him to the place he wanted to be.

So he decided to pray. Pray for his loved ones. Pray for you.

He asked for your health, for your well-being, for your happiness and, as much as it hurt him, for you to find love too. The loneliness he felt was something he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemies, and you just happened to be one of his favorite people in the world.

Oikawa didn't even know whom he was praying to. Even so, his wishes were so pure that someone must've heard him because it was in the moment he said his last prayers that his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. A call coming in.

When he saw the name that popped on the screen, Toru thought his eyes were probably deceiving him. That's just what his heart wanted to see.

But as soon as he picked up the phone, your unmistakable voice woke him in a rush. 

Maybe there was something magical about the holidays after all.

#oikawa angst #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa toru #toru oikawa x you #toru oikawa x reader #oikawa toru angst #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu angst #seijoh angst #toru oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x y/n #constellations ✨

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

#gwenpool #fanfic #deconstruction #outofloveiswear #fortheoriginalwritersnotmarvelordisney #tw mental health #tw mentions of suicide #tw mentions of drug abuse #tw violence #tw gun violence

[brywrites]

Flight Risk X

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part X: In which a profiler and a pilot find a safe place to land, and in which our story comes to a close.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous |  Next )

--------------------------

“It’s a serial poisoning case,” Garcia explains. “And Reid, he got poisoned somehow. He’s at the hospital now and they’re gonna give him an antitoxin but he’s still unconscious. Morgan’s there now but the team really needs him back in the field and I just didn’t know who else to call.”

Y/N swallows past the lump in her throat and says, “Tell me where to go and I’ll be there.”

“Oh my god thank you thank you thank you,” she sighs. “I’m sending you the address now and I’ll make sure they put you on his visitor list.”

When she hangs up Arthur asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Reid’s been poisoned,” she says, and she hates the quiver in her voice. “He’s at the hospital. They need someone to stay with him.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this alone.” Before she can argue he puts cash down on the table to cover their order and is ushering her out the door. The hospital Reid is at is mere feet away from the The Graduate and in that moment she loves that stupid tacky motel with her entire heart.

A nurse leads the two of them to the correct room, where Morgan is waiting outside. “Hey mama,” he says, offering a tired smile. Then, with a polite nod to Arthur, “Captain.”

“Is he okay?” she asks.

“He will be. This unsub is poisoning people using various coffee shops, and Pretty Boy here bought a cup at the most recent target this morning. They just gave him the antitoxin so he should be waking up soon. That stuff does a real number on the body though, so he’ll be feeling pretty bad when he does. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Just keep us posted, okay?”

“Okay,” she says. Morgan heads out to find the team and she walks into the room. There are two plastic chairs so she and Arthur sit together at the side of the hospital bed where Reid currently lies. He looks a little more pale than usual, though if it weren’t for the IVs and the hospital gown she would think that maybe he was just sleeping. Looking as peaceful as he did the morning she found him asleep on her couch.

“It’s a dangerous job,” Y/N says quietly.

“It is,” Arthur agrees. This is their greatest fear each time they fly away on a case. That one of the agents they transport will wind up hurt or hospitalized or worse. That all their passengers won’t come back to them safe and sound. “I’ve been flying these agents around for fourteen years. Agent Morgan seems to be injured the most, but when Doctor Reid is hurt it always seems to be something extreme. On more than one occasion I didn’t think he would ever set foot on this plane again.”

The words unnerve her. There’s still so much she doesn’t know about Spencer, in spite of all their conversations and meetings and stories.

“It’s not easy to care for people you know will get hurt someday,” he says. “But that hasn’t stopped you from loving him.” Y/N turns to him wide-eyed, her cheeks burning. The captain chuckles. “Please, Y/L/N, I don’t need to be a profiler in order to see what’s happening between the two of you.”

She sighs and turns her gaze to Spencer. “I know you think I’m making a mistake.”

“Not at all.”

“But you kept warning me not to get close to the BAU, and I didn’t listen to you at all.”

“Martin and I always kept to ourselves when we flew together. We did so because the agents were not always interested in talking, and because it was difficult to become friends with people we knew were constantly in danger. One day there was a case in Boston. Six of them died. It felt like we had flown them there like lambs to the slaughter. It has always been easier for me to keep my distance and to do my job. But I can see that it’s different for you.”

She can’t imagine. Six agents. As it currently stands that would be the entire team.

“You need to feel connected to people,” he continues. “Even if it means this job is harder. That’s not a mistake. And in all the years this man has been on my plane, I’ve never seen him smile at someone the way he smiles at you.”

“Coffee.” The words are barely a mumble, but they immediately jolt the two pilots out of their conversation. Spencer shakes his head slightly. “It’s in the coffee beans,” he mutters. He turns his head and he blinks awake with heavy eyes that can’t seem to focus, but she swear he looks at her. “Angel,” he sighs. And then his eyes close once more and his heart rate returns to a slower, steady rhythm. She looks at Arthur, completely befuddled. He simply shrugs, not knowing what to make of that any more than she does.

There is a knock at the door and a doctor in a white coat steps into the room. “Could I speak to one of you for a moment?” she asks. “There’s some paperwork that needs to be filled out if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I can do it,” Y/N says. Arthur promises to keep a good eye on the good Doctor, and so she follows this doctor out into the hallway, glancing back at Spencer one last time as she does so.

----

His head feels fuzzy. Everything is a haze. All he knows for sure is that his body aches all over. Oh. That must be the poison. He remembers when it began to affect him, and suddenly it all made sense. He tried to tell the team but the world went dark before he could explain. It wasn’t just in the coffee, it had to do with the coffee beans. The bags the shops were using to make their coffee. That’s why they couldn’t trace it back to one single location. He needs to tell them, they need to know, but everything is just so hazy. So confusing. For a moment the world doesn’t feel dark – it feels blindingly bright and he has a sense of urgency, a need to be awake. He tries to open his eyes but everything is just light. He turns his head. There is a figure dressed in white. It looks like her. That can’t be right. They’re not speaking these days. It must be angel. He doesn’t believe in such things, but what other explanation is there? It may just be his brain playing visual tricks on him but that trick must be an angel. His angel.

But then his eyes feel so heavy. Sleep would be nice. He slips back into the haze.

Reid isn’t sure how much time has passed when he suddenly jolts out of the fuzzy feeling. He’s asleep but he’s in a bed and everything hurts and he should probably try to open his eyes. With much effort, he does. He blinks at the bright light of the hospital room – he’s been in enough to recognize immediately where he is. If he’s alive, that means they got the antitoxin to him in time. Which means his team has figured out what’s happening, and he can just breathe easy now. Or as easily as his aching lungs will let him.

Someone clears their throat. There’s almost always a member of his team waiting with him, but he’s surprised to turn and see Captain Dobson sitting there beside him. Reid nearly jumps, the heart rate monitor spiking to emphasize his confusion.

“You’re alright, Doctor Reid,” he says. “Everything’s fine. You’re in a hospital. You were poisoned.”

“I know,” he says, his voice raspy. “It was… the poison was in the-”

“Coffee beans?” the captain finishes. “You were saying something about it before you woke up.”

“I must’ve been dreaming then. I remember thinking about the coffee. And I thought I saw an angel. But that doesn’t make any sense.”

But then the door opens and Y/N steps into the room in a white dress and cream-colored cardigan and it absolutely does. “Hi,” he says, sitting up in the bed.

“Hi,” she replies sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Arthur says, standing up from his chair. He and Y/N make eye contact briefly before he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.

After a moment of awkward hesitation, she sits down next to him in one of the plastic chairs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I made things weird between us.”

“I think we both did,” she says. “But no matter how much I try to pretend that I don’t care about you, when Garcia called me I was so scared.” Her voice shakes. “I thought I might never get to see you again and that the last thing I ever said to you was to leave me alone.”

“I was scared too,” he admits. “I missed you.” He missed every conversation, missed the sound of her laugh, missed the promise of a free weekend meaning he could spend a little more time with her. Even if it would only hurt him in the end, he wanted to see her.

“How did this even happen?” she asks.

“Morgan and I were revisiting the last known locations of the victims. I wanted to get coffee before we drove back to the precinct. The closest place was called Café Coco. I figured it was safe because I watched the barista grind a fresh bag of coffee beans before brewing my cup and she never added anything to it, but before we could even finish giving the profile I was out.”

“Café Coco?” she asks. “I went there this morning.”

“What?” Reid gasps. Panic surges through him, the adrenaline countering the exhaustion he feels. Oh this can’t be good. Did she drink the same coffee? How much did she drink? Is there enough antitoxin in supply? This is it, this is proof that the moment he starts to love someone the universe conspires to strike them down. “We need to tell a doctor, we need to-”

She puts her hand on his. “Spencer, it’s okay. I didn’t get coffee. I ordered tea. For some reason I just... felt like caffeine wasn’t a good idea.” He stares at her and he has absolutely no words. The panic ebbs and gives way to a stunned quiet. Because this is new. This isn’t anything he’s prepared for. Y/N waltzed right through the heart of danger and was unscathed. Maybe, just maybe, the universe has spared her. Maybe this time he gets to be happy after all. Maybe there is still one thing he can love without ruining.

But then he remembers. And his chest aches for a reason that has nothing at all to do with the poison. “It’s not fair,” he says quietly.

“What’s not fair?” she asks.

“I care about you and you’re okay. And that’s never happened before, but it doesn’t matter because you’re leaving.”

“What do you mean?”

“The IRT job,” Reid says. “Your dream job.”

“I didn’t take it.”

“You didn’t?” Now he’s confused. “But why? Y/N, you said it was your dream.”

“I didn’t take it. I mean, I still have to give them an official answer, but I’ve known my decision for a while now. I knew the moment you walked away. I thought a job like that was the only thing I wanted. But lately I’ve started to question that. And when you told me about the people you’ve lost and how much you missed them, I knew for sure. I want to fly,” she insists. “I want to be in the air and in a plane and loving the sky. But I want a home, too.”

Her eyes are shining and the soft smile on her face as she speaks makes all the pain fade when he’s looking at her. “I’ve been flying for a long time. But I’ve never had a place to call home like this before. With Yeeqin and all of our friends. With Arthur. With the BAU. And with you,” she adds. “Even without you, I finally feel like I have a place where I belong, and I don’t want to lose that. My airplane heart has been circling for a long time. I think it’s about time I found a safe place to land.”

“I can be that,” he says without thinking. But he means it. “I can be that, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you want that?” she asks.

“Yes. Very much so. When I realized what was happening to me in the precinct, I was thinking about a lot of things. About the coffee beans and my team and what they needed to figure out. But I thought about you, too. I wasn’t sure what would happen but I was afraid I would never get the chance to tell you that I missed you and that I was wrong. That I felt it too, that I felt so deeply for you. And I still do.”

She laces her fingers through his and he’s never held hands with someone like this before but god does it feel so right. “Flying was my first love,” she tells him. “And I never thought I would find anything that felt as magical as the moment a plane lifts off the ground. But you do. Every time you look at me it’s like that. Like gravity doesn’t matter anymore. Like everything is a little bit lighter.”

While he has never quite fallen in love with flying the same way, Reid knows exactly what she means. Every second he’s with her is like finishing his favorite book. Each time he makes her smile he feels like he’s solved the most important puzzle in history. She’s the first chemical reaction he completed, the first equation he solved. All that and more.

“I think,” he says, “that’s how love is supposed to make you feel.” And maybe it’s too soon and maybe it’s too much but he’s nearly told her once already and he just doesn’t think he can bear to hold the words in his chest any longer. “I love you.”

Her face absolutely lights up. “I love you, too,” she says. And he wants so badly to kiss her but with the mess of the IVs and cannula and monitors he can’t turn to do so he just squeezes her hand a little tighter and they sit there grinning at each other feeling like the luckiest people on the planet.

“So,” she says. “You, um, thought I was an angel?”

A laugh escapes his lips. “Well, yes. But I still kind of think you are.”

---

That evening Arthur grabs both of their bags from the Graduate so that she can wait with Spencer while he’s discharged. The doctors caution that there may be some aftereffects over the next twenty-four hours and send him with medication in the event anything changes during the flight back. The three of them ride over together to the airport to meet the rest of the team and head home. All of their passengers are accounted for. Everything is okay. Even so, she doesn’t let go of his hand the whole ride, and can’t stop from asking him each time he winces if he’s feeling alright.

They arrive at the hangar soon enough. Spencer rubs circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll be alright,” he assures her, noticing the worry on her face. “It’s not even two hours. The team will keep an eye on me and we’ll see each other soon.”

“I’ll just get changed and then be ready to prepare for takeoff,” Y/N tells Arthur.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” he replies.

“What do you mean?” The captain has always been strict about the Bureau mandated dress code.

“I told you that I need you focused when we’re flying. And I know that your thoughts are elsewhere at the moment, so I called an old friend in Nashville. Sheila will fly as my co-pilot tonight so that you can stay close to him. I think it’s what you both need.”

Despite all of their formalities, Y/N throws her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“And Y/L/N? About the IRT offer,” he adds. “Malik and I have been talking. He’s retiring this year and there’s a lot of things on our bucket list we have yet to do. I’ve been thinking that perhaps it’s time for me to do the same. Spend some time traveling for enjoyment with my husband rather than crossing the country multiple times a month. And if I were to retire, I would want you to succeed me. If you’d be interested, of course.”

“Really?”

He smiles. “I think you’ve found something good here. And it would be a shame to leave that behind. But I also think it’s time you were promoted – and time I took a page from Martin’s book and enjoyed the time I have with the person I love most.”

“Of course. Yes, yes absolutely.”

“Then it’s settled,” he says, putting his cap on. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to me all those month ago.” He disappears into Geff, and she bounds back over to Spencer.

“Arthur called in a favor,” she says. “So that I could ride home with you, if that’s okay?”

“That is more than okay,” he tells her, grinning. And it’s such a perfect smile that she can’t help herself. She leans in and presses her lips to his and he reciprocates immediately, his hands gently cupping her face and it’s all too brief but all so wonderful and when he pulls away the grin has shifted to dazed, blissful smile that she is certain mirrors the look on her own face.

“Well damn,” Morgan says behind them. “Garcia’s gonna be so mad she wasn’t here to witness that.” Kate elbows him and Spencer turns beet red but the smile never fades.

She’s been in the cabin plenty of times before, but she’s never flown. It’s an incredibly nice interior and they sit side by side in seats that are more comfortable than she’s imagined. Geff speeds down the runway and Spencer holds her hand, her head on his shoulder and his head against hers just like that night on the couch. They lift up into the clear blue air and it’s still so magical and this feeling is still so magical and she doesn’t know how it could possibly get better than this.

---

“Are you ready Doctor?” she asks. “You look a little nervous.”

Reid looks at her. “Y/N, angel, you know I trust you. I’ve just never been in a plane this size before.” After three months, the BAU has taken down the trafficking ring, Kate has taken a leave of absence, and everyone has been given a week off to take a much-needed break. And his girlfriend has convinced him to spend one day of that week in a tiny prop plane with her. She insists that there’s nothing quite like being in the cockpit when the plane takes off, and this is the best way to experience it.

They sit side by side in the small cockpit of the plane, the sky above them a perfect clear blue. She has already run through the preflight checklist, identifying all the valves and instruments she’ll need in a matter of seconds. “It’ll be okay,” she promises, turning the key. “Headset on.” He puts it on as instructed, ensuring that they’ll be able to communicate with one another despite the roar of the engine. She pumps the throttle and the engines and front propeller spring to life.

“Charlie Mike eleven ready for takeoff,” she says into the microphone.

“Charlie Mike, proceed to two,” he hears from the headset.

“Charlie Mike proceeding to two.”

“Winds one ninety at fifteen, Charlie Mike cleared for takeoff.”

“Here we go,” she says with a grin. Reid holds tighter to his seat as she turns the plane down the runway. She puts the break on just at the turn and her hands work away at the switches and instruments faster than he can keep track of. The engine roars louder and the propeller becomes just a blur before them. They advance down the runway faster and faster, her hand on the throttle, and the asphalt is coming to an end, the grass approaching and he braces himself but then she pulls the yoke down and just like that they are up in the air. So smooth it’s hard to believe, as the burden of gravity seems to fall away. He stares out over the window as they go up and up, the horizon stretching out before them, falling open like an invitation. Like magic.

It’s incredible.

He turns to look at Y/N and she wears an awestruck smile, staring straight ahead and while he’s seen her near Geff so many times and he knows how flying works, it is something else entirely to see her in her element like this. And he thinks that she too, is like magic.

Reid can see how she must have fallen in love with this. The lightness and wonder of it all, the way the world looks from up above. The sensation of lift and defying the pull of the earth.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asks.

“It is,” he says, though he’s only partly focusing on the view.

She turns to glance at him and the sunlight on her face and the glow of happiness she wears makes her simply radiant. He thinks back to what she said in Nashville all those months ago. It’s true after all – this is what love feels like. With her, it doesn’t feel like falling at all. It’s like liftoff. It’s like soaring. Up in the air above all odds, with nothing but open sky and sunshine and that weightless wonderful sensation.

It makes sense to him now, why J.M. Barrie wrote that the secret to flying was thinking happy thoughts. He’s sure that by now he’s collected enough with her to keep him high for a very long time.

Three months he has let himself love her. Three months and he is happier than ever. Three months and she is still safe. Three months and love doesn’t feel like such a flight risk anymore. Love is a safe place to land.

[Thank you for reading Flight Risk. Please check around your seat for any personal belongings and use caution when opening the overhead bins, for any feelings you stowed there may have shifted during the flight. If you can, we’d be pleased if you take a moment to share your feedback with our pilots on the way out with a ‘like’ ‘reply’ ‘reblog’ or ‘message’. And on behalf the author, and the entire cast of characters on this flight, thank you for joining us. We hope to see you on board again in the future!]

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #flight risk #brywrites #imagine #spencer reid imagine

[alindakb]

Too Late - by Alinda

There are chains around his ankles and wrists. They keep him locked in the chair he was forced to sit in. He knows this chair. He sat in it once before. Years ago. When Dumbledore was still alive and there to save him. Back when the world still made some kind of sense. Before it had turned against him and took everything he ever cared about.

Ron had been there when they arrested him. He had looked at Harry as if he was a stranger. And maybe he is that now. A stranger. A killer and murderer. He’s no longer the boy Ron became friends with. He hasn’t been that boy for years. Just like he hasn’t been Ron’s friend since he made his choice and ran with the only one that mattered.

Hermione is somewhere in this room. He’s seen the paper when she was elected into the Wizengamot. Harry was proud of her. Still is. But that doesn’t matter now. She will not give him any favours. She will hear his testimony and know she won’t be able to claim he’s innocent. Because he isn’t.

Not that it matters anymore. None of it does. Not since the moment they took him. Not when Harry found out he was too late.

Harry doesn’t look up when Shacklebolt stands up and starts to talk. Another person Harry let down by running. By becoming an accomplish to a wanted criminal. Always on the run. Always looking over his shoulder. Until they made a choice and found a way to live their lives in peace.

At least they didn’t take his ring. His only reminder of the life he had before. Of the time he was truly happy.

“Harry James Potter, you are brought before the Wizengamot to be trailed for the crimes you committed. I understand that you have waived the right to have an attorney present. Is that correct?” Shacklebolt says.

Harry nods his head.

Shacklebolt scrapes his throat. “Please speak up for the court,” he says.

Harry closes his eyes. He can see the smile he woke up to for the last fifteen years. The smile that was stolen from him not that long ago. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Then he opens his eyes and looks at Shacklebolt. “I don’t need an attorney,” he says.

“Harry, don’t be stupid,” a familiar voice says. Harry looks to Shacklebolt’s left and sees Hermione sitting there. She looks older. More mature. Life has done her good. Harry wonders if she and Ron have stayed together. He can’t remember if the article about her appointment into the Wizengamot that he’d read years ago said anything about her private life.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” Harry says. He’s ready to take whatever punishment they want to give him. It’s not like he has anything left to live for.

Shacklebolt continues as if Hermione hadn’t interrupted them. He looks at the parchment in front of him. The man is hard to read. Is he disappointed in Harry? The man he once thought would take over the Auror department. Maybe even become the next Minister of Magic. Now a criminal, on trial for the murder of some former Death Eater children.

“We’ve received your request to plea separately for the crimes you are on trial for, is that correct?” Shacklebolt asks.

“Yes,” Harry says.

“Mrs Granger, would you please list the crimes one by one,” Shacklebolt continues.

Hermione stands up. Her hands shake a little. “Harry James Potter, you are charged for abating Draco Lucius Malfoy’s escape from prison. How do you plea?”

“Guilty,” Harry says. It’s no secret that he was the one that escorted Draco out of the Ministry and fled the country with him. Not that Draco was guilty of the crimes they convicted him for. But nobody believed Harry back then. Said he was just upset and confused. Nobody cared that Voldemort would have won if it hadn’t been for Draco.

Hermione swallows before she continues. Harry wants to tell her that it’s okay, that it doesn’t matter. She can continue without feeling guilty for not believing him. It’s his fault for never being honest with them about all this in the first place.

“Harry James Potter, you are charged for murdering Pansy Parkinson. How do you plea?” Hermione says.

Again the word guilty rolls of Harry’s tongue. She deserved it. Draco trusted her. Was happy when she reached out to him. But she betrayed him.

The next two charges also follow a guilty plea from Harry. He found Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle in the room with him. Their wands pointed at the love of Harry’s life. His husband. Who lay broken on the floor. The rage Harry had felt in that moment had burst out of him. He didn’t have a wand anymore. Hadn’t used one in years. But he didn’t need it. The spells just left his fingers. They screamed and begged until Harry had heard enough and green lights had filled the room.

But this will be all he will plead guilty for.

“Harry James Potter, you are charged for torturing and murdering Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione says. Harry closes his eyes. He fights the tears that threaten to escape him. His voice seems lost as he opens his mouth to respond. He scrapes his throat and tries again.

“Not guilty,” he whispers.

“Please speak up,” Shacklebolt says.

Harry looks at them. His eyes lock with Hermione. They are moist as if she knows. And she probably does. She always knew what it was that Harry wasn’t saying. But it’s too late now.

“Not guilty,” he says again.

There is some commotion around them. Had they all hoped that Harry would just plead guilty to everything and be done with it? Now they have to prove that Harry killed his husband. The man he gave up everything for. And it will stretch this out. But even though Harry wants it all to be over, he couldn’t. He would not betray his love. He will not plea guilty and betray Draco. He will have justice for him before Harry can give up.

Pictures are shown of the murdered victims. Parkinson bled to death after the Sectumsempra hit her. Harry didn’t stay and watch. He had rushed down to the basement where he had found him. Draco his eyes had been open, but they didn’t see anything anymore. His clothes were torn and his bones broken. Harry had been too late. Compared to him, Goyle and Nott got off easy. They didn’t have to suffer to days of torture until their bodies gave out. They only had to endure a short time under the Cruciatus curse before Harry couldn’t stand the sound of their screams any longer.

Ron is questioned at some point. Harry is scared to look at him. He was the first Auror on the scene. The one that arrested Harry.

“Mr Potter was found holding Mr Malfoy’s body. He cradled him, as you cradle someone you love,” Ron says. “He was crying when I arrested him. The only hesitation he had was when he had to let go of Mr Malfoy’s body. Other than that, he came willingly.”

Later they examine the wands of Parkinson, Nott and Goyle. The last spells they fired are all dark and unforgivable. The pain they put Draco through was even worse than Harry had imagined. If only he had found them sooner. Not that they would have survived it. But at least Draco wouldn’t have had to suffer as he did. Tears fall now. Harry can’t stop them. He closes his eyes and tries to think of the good times. Of the day they bought fake Muggle IDs so they could get married. The moment they apparated back to their home after the I do’s. The perfect eggs Draco used to make for breakfast. The walks through the forest around their home. The days spend in the garden, growing herbs and vegetables. The nights spent in front of the fire, Draco reading a book out loud so Harry could listen to his voice. A voice he will never hear again.

A healer goes over the wounds on all the victims. Harry tries not to listen to the words spoken. He can’t stand to hear in even more detail how Draco had suffered in his final days.

“I would like to add that Mr Malfoy wore one piece of jewellery when we examen him. A golden ring with a date engraved on the inside, together with the Harry,” the healer says.

Harry looks at the ring on his own finger. The same golden ring they found on Draco. Only here the name Draco is engraved next to their wedding date.

“Would you say that this was a wedding ring?” Shacklebolt asks.

“It appeared so,” the healer answers. “Only the Aurors couldn’t find any registered marriage for Mr Malfoy.”

The lead investigator is brought in. They only searched the magical records. Shacklebolt orders them to look to the Muggle records. And when they come back they hold a piece of paper stating that Harry James Potter married Draco Lucius Malfoy twelve years, four months and six days ago. Three years after they ran from the magical world when they didn’t believe that Draco wasn’t a Death Eater. On the day they had been together for exactly six years. Eighteen years ago, when Harry hadn’t though and just reached out and kissed Draco. And all it had taken was Draco saying he didn’t believe that the Dark Lord was the great saviour everyone thought he was.

They had been together for eighteen years, two months and four days when Draco disappeared.

It had been eighteen years, two months and twenty-seven days when Harry found him.

Harry had only been minutes too late.

Minutes he can never get back. He can never catch up to them and save Draco.

“Mr Potter, is this true? Was Mr Malfoy your husband?” Shacklebolt asks.

“He was,” Harry answers.

More commotion follows. The Wizengamot gets adjourned. Harry is transported back to his cell. Time passes while he stares at the walls around him. Draco always said the cells were a horrible place. Cold and clamp. Harry never thought about it after he’d helped Draco escape. Now the words of those conversations flood his mind.

“You shouldn’t have rescued me,” Draco shouted on that first day. “You’re throwing away your life. And what for? A school crush?”

Harry had grabbed him and pulled him close. “For the injustice done to the man I love,” he’d said before they had kissed.

Draco would complain from time to time. And then Harry would remind him of all the things Draco had risked when he agreed to become a double agent. How he’d betrayed his own family for the person he loves. How he’d helped Harry find the Horcruxes and saved his life over and over again, until the final battle. How Harry had come back for him. How he’d fought to let others know that Draco was one of the good guys.

But everyone who had known was dead. Sirius had passed soon after the agreement was made. Dumbledore fell. So did Snape and Tonks. There was nobody but Harry who knew of Draco’s mission for the order. The only one still alive that had seen Draco struggle with the fact that he had to take the Dark Mark. The mark that stood for everything he was against. The mark that clouded the Wizengamot’s judgement and just claimed his guilty without a proper trial.

The next day, the Wizengamot questions Harry. Why didn’t he contact the Auror department when his husband went missing? Why did he even marry a Death Eater? Harry tells them he wasn’t. He shows them his memories when they ask for proof. It’s the only proof he has. The meetings in Dumbledore’s office with Sirius and Tonks. The talks about what it would mean for their relationship. The sneaking around, the meetups after Harry had to go on the run, the information Draco provided, the way he got Harry out of the Manor when they got captured.

“I was too late,” Harry says in the end. “I found him too late.”

He looks at Hermione. Tears are on her cheeks, a hand on her mouth. She finally understands how Harry had always known where to go next that final year. Why he never minded having the graveyard shift on watch. It was the moments he would meet up with Draco.

Nobody will ever know why they took Draco after all these years. Did they blame him for the destruction of Voldemort? Was this their way of revenging their parents? Harry doesn’t care. He only knows that they took the love of his life from him and that they broke his heart beyond repair.

The verdict, in the end, is expected. Shacklebolt says he understands, but they can’t condone murder, not even when it’s to revenge a loved one. Life in prison is the best he can do. Harry is taken to Azkaban. He stares at the ceiling of his cell until his broken hearts gives out and he can fly to the place where he will be reunited with his Draco.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #kingsley shacklebolt #trial #murder #major character death #no happy end #mentions of torture #kidnapping

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 12

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 

“You’re not a very pretty thing, are you?” the man who was the leader of this army sneered, leaning in closer to the cell you and Youngjae were held within. He then let out a boom of laughter which startled you enough to bang into Youngjae’s shoulder. “That boy has never had much of a good taste in anything so what to expect really.”

“You’re no great looker yourself,” you couldn’t help but shoot back and the man stopped with his jovial response, his gaze narrowing on your face. “It’s a pity my eyes have to take you in so closely. Have you bathed this month or is that putrid smell your natural odour?”

Youngjae was pinching at the edge of your arm repeatedly to stop. However, you didn’t back down any. If this ogre of a man was going to treat Jackson the way he had and then insult the man who would give up everything for you, then you weren’t afraid to share your thoughts now either.

Perhaps you were too bold for a prisoner but you wouldn’t remain one for long anyway.

He was silent for a moment and then he chuckled. “I like you. Maybe you’ll make a good wife.”

“Don’t you already have enough whores to keep you busy?”

“Y/N!” Youngjae whined and then shook his head. “Please forgive her, My Lord. She comes from a very optimistic lifestyle and has no idea how these lands work.”

“Don’t suck up to me boy, I have no use for you.”

“I think you do,” you corrected firmly and the man looked back at you again, intrigued. “Youngjae here is a mighty fine cook.”

“He is, is he?”

“Oh yes, the finest I’ve ever come across.”

Youngjae was so surprised by your outlandish lie that all he could do was stare at you with his mouth agape. However, you pressed on, maintaining eye contact with your captor. “Surely you would allow us to cook you a meal tonight.”

“You’re not free to move around here. I’m using you as bait. As soon as I sniff out that lousy cat of yours, you’ll be gone from this earth.”

“All the more reason for a chef such as Youngjae and I to make our final meal together. After all, you did see how well-fed the men were back at the camp we come from, didn’t you? That’s all on Youngjae. I’ve been cooking with him since I arrived and honestly, you won’t regret it.”

You could tell the man was a fool. Whilst he had a clever wit about him when it came to being a warrior, he was overruled by the comforts he could lap up within these walls. Scratching at his beard, he let out another laugh. “I suppose I’ve always been envious of that boy’s teamwork. A hearty meal for me and my men will only prepare us further for taking out Jinyoung when he arrives.”

You swallowed back your instant complaint and smiled instead. “Of course. A hearty meal is what you all deserve.”

“What are you playing at?” Youngjae murmured in your ear when you were both transported to their open kitchen area. The two men who threw you into your confinements now shackled you with a rope around your ankles so you couldn’t escape. They then put potatoes in front of you.

“We will need the finest cut of meat you have here,” you instructed to the men, who glanced between each other before going into their storage shed. You looked at Youngjae desperately. “I’m getting us out of here. I still have some of the supplies on me.”

“How are you planning to get us out?”

“I lived with a healing woman. I know a thing or two,” you responded, smiling at the return of the men with a bucket of meat. “Wonderful. Shall we get to work, master?”

“Mas-- er yes. Yes, we shall.”

“A stew is your finest use of potatoes, isn’t it?” you continued and the men seemed content with your conversation and washing of the potatoes to lose some interest in you both. Still, you continued with your talk, just to be sure. “You make a very fragrant blend as your special flavour, don’t you?”

“It’s a unique dish for sure,” Youngjae attempted to sound just as effortless as you were. His hands were shaking and you reached out to calm them with a gentle squeeze and a nod of your head.

When Youngjae had collected the seeds for your travels, you had noticed a large sachet of Nightshade seeds along the wall of the shop. You had slipped them into the purchase without a moment’s thought, out of habit that you would fetch them for your Grandmother when she called for them. Now, they had proven their worth and you were grateful you had pocketed them shortly after leaving the village.

It wouldn’t be enough to truly take out your captors, given how many there were, but it would buy you some time. Thankfully, Youngjae found some herbs within the kitchen that could help with the disagreeable smell, and by the time you were ready to serve it up, the stew boasted a smell that had the men hanging around for it.

“Best thing I’ve smelt in years!”

“Boss made a good decision about letting them feed us!”

“How can a stew smell this tasty?!”

You felt unfortunate towards some of the girls who ate alongside them, knowing they weren’t guilty like the monsters slurping up their dinner were. Still, you needed the best chance of escape.

“Girl, is there more?” the leader, whom you had learned was called Argo, belched, and you smiled, pushing the large pot forward.

“I believe you will lick the bowl clean at this rate.”

“A good meal like this… that boy was living in luxury.”

“You could too if you let us live,” Youngjae offered and Argo chuckled as he threw the remnants of what was in the ladle down his throat. You watched on with bated breath.

“Nice try, boy. But once that lion or tiger or whatever he called himself comes prowling through here, you’ll be seeing the gates of the heavens above.”

“Worth a try,” you lamented dramatically, patting Youngjae’s arm.

It didn’t take long for the effects to settle in. Nightshade in small doses was effective in many ways. You knew of it intimately, as it had been the potion you drank given by your father that saved you. Still, the concentration compared to this one had been stronger and you couldn’t gauge if the men would sleep for hours or days.

It would give you both the head start you would need all the same.

Once the last one dropped into slumber around you both, you reached for the dagger down your leg and as quickly and quietly as you could, cut the rope free from yours and Youngjae’s legs. Nodding at one another, you then started towards the exit near the stables, stopping just before you stepped out.

“What is it?”

“Jinyoung will come here,” you murmured, slicing a shred of your pant cuff off. Hiding it in a crevice that you knew his keen eyes would discover, you then smiled at Youngjae, dashing away as fast as you both could.

“What are you doing?”

Looking at Jinyoung and then at the stack of white stones you held, you smiled. “I’m creating a trail.”

“Yes, but why?”

“In case we get lost. Papa needs to find us.”

“Can’t you just tell the way back from how we travelled it?” he wondered and you shrugged.

“This way I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

“What if a wind picks up and throws your stones away?”

“Then fate wanted us to be lost from this world,” you surmised, scrunching up your face as you gave the boy a playful shove. “Don’t be so frustrating. It’s better to do this than not at all. Say I went for a wander all by myself and got lost. Wouldn’t you want a path to find me with?”

“I’d use my skills from living within woods like these to track you down,” he stubbornly replied, though he reached for the next stone to place on the path for you. You giggled and Jinyoung smiled. “I hope you don’t get lost from my world, Y/N.”

“I know you’ll find me if I do. I’ll leave you a trail just so you know how to find me.”

The light that rose with the new dawn enabled you and Youngjae to move faster over the terrain. It hadn’t been easy to put distance between you and the camp with barely a moon to guide you by, yet you had made some progress.

It wasn’t enough though and once the men woke and found their horses, it would be all too easy to find you on the flat.

You remained climbing into a mountainside in hopes it would lead you away from being captured again.

“It’s cold,” Youngjae mentioned with concern as you hacked another chunk of fabric off your leg. “You should stop doing that now.”

“I can’t, Jinyoung needs to find us.”

“You’re above your knees now, there won’t be much more to give up. Here, take from mine.”

You smiled gratefully at Youngjae and nodded. “For the next marker, I will take your offer.”

“You hold a lot of hope that Jinyoung will find us.”

“If I give up hope, I won’t keep moving. And I have to make my best move.”

“Your best move?”

You nodded again. “I froze in front of danger the first time. If I allow others to control me and not fight myself then I’m not making my best move for us right now.”

“How long do you think until the brew wears off?”

“Maybe we have a couple more hours up our sleeve at most.”

“Then by noon, we may not have much luck.”

“They would have expected us to head towards our camp. They didn’t hold much regard for our smarts.”

“Given that brute believed your story of me being a fine cook.”

“You did enough to make that believable yourself given how long you had been feeding them before I.”

“Perhaps. I got worried when you started mouthing off.”

Your lips curled up fondly. “I was a little spirited.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t kill us then.”

“He couldn’t.” You stared ahead at the dense forest and then sighed. “He needed us to get to Jinyoung.”

“I hope Jackson is okay.”

“I believe Jackson is stronger than he looks.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t a deep wound. It sure stunned him.”

“I believe he will greet us again.”

“Yes, I do too.”

You both fell silent, your true worries unspoken. Neither of you had supplies to prolong your travels any. Once you ran out of energy that would be it unless you could harvest something along the way. All you saw was tree after tree and nothing edible in between.

You had managed to drink from a spring some hours earlier into your travel but as the sun grew hotter in the sky and filtered through the lessening density of the trees, you were becoming a little parched.

Still, you travelled on.

Mid-afternoon arrived and Youngjae’s breathing grew laboured. You stopped to rest, wiping the perspiration from your brows and neck, wondering if you could use it to wet your mouth any. It was too salty and you spat it out, groaning with your lack of resources.

You hadn’t thought far ahead.

“There’s a clearing,” Youngjae pointed and you turned to the direction he was looking in, perking up.

“And a homestead!”

“Water,” Youngjae breathed as you helped him up.

“Food too.”

“Shelter,” you both stated, trying your best to keep Youngjae upright as you both travelled over the ground with the remaining energy you had.

The clearing was flat and your legs relished in it as you jogged across the grassy field, eyes fixated on what you hoped would be your saviour.

And then you heard the thundering of hooves coming upon you.

_________________

Part 13

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#got7creators #kwritersworldnet #park jinyoung #park jinyoung fiction #park jinyoung fanfic #park jinyoung romance #park jinyoung angst #park jinyoung au #got7 #got7 fiction #got7 fanfic #got7 romance #got7 angst #got7 au #pwyl; forsaken #jinyoung fiction #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung romance #jinyoung angst #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop romance #kpop angst

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - I Was Given Four Rules to Follow ... I Broke Every One: Chapter 3/3 (Rated PG13)

Summary: When Warlock Dowling is summoned to the old South Downs cottage of Aziraphale and Crowley to help clean out their attic, presumably after their deaths, he is given four rules to follow.

... He breaks every single one.

Read on AO3.

January 15th –

He opened his eyes!

He opened his eyes and looked at me!

After hours of waiting in the dark and in the cold, despairing every second and wishing I was dead myself, he opened his eyes.

But it came close to being all for naught because I almost died myself right then and there.

It was good to see him with his eyes wide open, but the golden eyes I loved so much are gone. 

These new eyes are white on white, the pupils infinitely dark, the irises torn. They stare without blinking. They look into me, into my soul, it seems. They connect to the love that runs deep within me, to every touch he has ever left on my skin, to every promise we both made. 

But they do not recognize me. 

Am I, at all, familiar to him?

I don’t want to reject him, whether he knows me or not. But those eyes unnerve me.

There’s so much about them that’s innocent and frightened.

So much about them that’s desolate and dead.

We literally spent the morning just looking at one another.

I would give anything to know what’s going on in his mind. 

What does he see when he looks at me? 

I want to reach out and touch him, but I’m afraid. I know it won’t be the same. He won’t be warm, won't be comforting. What could be worse than a dead copy of a once alive and loving creature? I don’t know. 

But whatever this is, it might be. 

He won’t smell like Crowley. He won’t have his cheek, won't have his soothing voice. It’s almost as if I adopted some wild animal and decided to make it my husband.

What have I done?

***

January 16th –

All day long, he tried to move, grunting with the effort of struggling to stand up and get out of bed. He didn’t speak words; he just groaned. I wanted to help him. I wanted to pretend that he was simply convalescing after a horrible illness. I wanted to bathe him and dress him. I wanted to sit him down in front of the television, prop up his feet, and feed him brandy and ice-cream. I wanted to put this chapter behind us and get on with our lives.

I wanted to make believe him dying had never happened.

But I’m not that good an actor.

He behaves exactly the way the old woman warned me he would. He reminds me of a child.

I never wanted children.

This is the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the marriage package, which I agreed to without hesitation.

Never mind the ‘till death do us part’ portion.

This comes with my vows, and I will honor them.

My love will help him. I know it will.

…

Can I really do this, or am I fooling myself?

***

January 17th –

I’m trying my best to take the bad with the good.

I managed to get him to the living room sofa. His legs were stiff, and he couldn’t seem to bend his knees.

He had been declared dead-on-arrival because of the injury to his neck. But I wonder if anything else is broken. I wasn’t really paying attention to the doctor when he went over the extent of Crowley’s injuries. After I heard the word dead, I tuned out.

I should get a copy of Crowley’s hospital records.

But if his legs are broken, how will I deal with that? Will the potion magically fix everything? It brought him back to life. Could fixing broken legs be more difficult than reanimating a corpse? What is the extent of the potion's effects? Do I need a secondary potion of some kind to repair internal injuries?

Maybe I should call the shopkeeper back and ask.

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

He stumbled numerous times and fell on me. I did my best not to cringe at his touch or accidentally drop him. But those eyes, so close to mine, were like looking into a nightmare. I could see through them to the veins and arteries behind, the blood inside them black and unhealthy.

The fourth time he stumbled, though, I got the feeling that maybe he was falling on purpose so that I would be forced to catch him.

I even thought I saw the shadow of a smile cross his lips.

I watched him as he sat in front of the TV and renewed his passion for The Golden Girls. That show had been one of his favorites since he was a small boy.

He sat so still. 

He didn’t swallow. 

He didn’t appear to breathe.

The only time he moved was when he looked over to where I sat, I think, to make sure I was still there.

He sat for hours and watched TV. 

There was nothing else for him to do.

I fed him salad for dinner, let him stay in front of the television instead of making him go to the dining room table. I didn’t see any reason to move him. He leaned down and sniffed the cold lettuce leaves, but he did not eat.

Neither did I.

***

January 19th –

After a full day of limping him around the house, Crowley is surprisingly steady on his feet. He can make it from the bedroom to the living room sofa by himself. It takes him a while, but he can do it.

His body is still in rigor, but he seems to be getting more comfortable with it.

I should be jumping for joy at his progress. The more mobile he becomes, the less dependent he will be on me. Every day that he improves, even a little, he is closer to becoming the man he was.

But I don’t know how comfortable I am with that anymore.

***

January 21st -

He doesn’t sleep. And now that he doesn’t rely on me to get around the house, neither do I. I know he sees me as a parent-figure, so he won’t hurt me. But he’s such an alien creature. Not like the old Crowley at all.

It’s strange having this version of him around the house.

When Crowley was

Before the accident, Crowley was so independent. He didn’t need me, didn’t need my help with anything.

But now, he needs to be near me all the time.

I understood there would be a change in our dynamic, but it’s such a striking change that it’s difficult to get used to.

I took a shower for the first time in days. I left him in the living room watching TV, but when I finished and opened the curtain, there he was, standing there … staring.

I fell asleep for about an hour afterward, and when I woke up, he was kneeling beside me, again staring at me.

He’s always staring.

What does he think about doing when he stares at me?

***

January 22nd –

I finally broke down and gave Crowley a shower. He didn’t stink, but there was something about him, something that smelled … well, I can't seem to find the words to describe it. 

I just wanted it gone.

I’ve seen the injuries to his chest numerous times, but I haven't paid much attention to his back.

When I saw them, I almost threw up.

And he noticed. 

He heard me gag. 

I gasped, held in my urge to be sick.

He turned to face me, and for the first time, he had an expression on his face different from his blank one … but also different from that smile I thought I saw when I was helping him walk around the house.

He looked hurt.

***

January 27th -

Each day that he improves, I debate telling our friends that he's here. I know they miss us terribly. But in the end, it would be too cruel. He’s not himself anymore. He never will be. Most days, I curse myself for doing this to him. My motives were selfish. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but myself when I made the decision to bring him back. 

I wasn’t even thinking of him.

Our lives are unrecognizable. We’ll never travel the world like we'd planned. Who knows if I’ll make it back to my bookshop? Should probably shut it down and have my books transported here. The way things look, the rest of our days will be spent in this cottage. 

I have to be okay with that.

But what about Crowley?

If you asked rational me if I think he wants to live this half-life, with no potential to be anything other than a human puppet, who only barely resembles the man that was Anthony J Crowley, I would have to say no. Absolutely not.

But I can’t turn back now.

What am I expected to do? Poison his tea? Smother him in his sleep?

Would attempting to kill him even work?

And what about his soul? 

If there is a Heaven, I surely pulled him out of it with my cock-eyed plan. What if there is no going back for him? 

I can only hope that my love for him is enough to keep him from hating me when he’s able to comprehend what I’ve done to him.

***

February 1st –

I’ve finally gotten him to eat – bits and pieces mostly, bites of vegetables and corners of bread. It doesn’t seem like he likes it, but he eats it, and that’s good. He eats because I tell him to. It shows that he trusts me.

He’s more self-sufficient now. 

He showers and brushes his teeth on his own. He picks out his pajamas and dresses himself. Sometimes he tries his hand at making the bed. He is attempting to be more vocal, but he has yet to say a single thing that isn’t a grunt or a moan.

I’ve been looking up the subject of speech delay on the Internet, trying to find ways to help him learn. I came across one website in particular with fun, creative ideas. I started making flashcards of consonant blends and one-syllable words. I felt so accomplished, so hopeful, like I was actually doing something positive toward the goal of moving us forward. I felt confident that after a little work with them, everything would be all right. I was so excited to show them to him, but then I realized …

… I have no idea if he can read.

***

February 3rd –

I tried calling the old woman at the antique shop in Soho to ask about the effects of the potion, but the phone has been disconnected.

I guess they went out of business after all.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing appears to be broken. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t feel pain.

I was teaching him how to cook, hoping it would bring a bit of the old Crowley back. We used to cook together all the time. Honestly, we weren't all that good at it, but that didn't stop us from trying. We had just gotten the hang of a decent souffle before ...

Anyway ...

I started him small. 

I had him grating cheese. 

Seemed simple enough. The grater stands on its own, so not much to juggle. But he pressed too hard, ran the grater over the backs of his fingers, scraped off skin. He didn’t so much as flinch. I think it bothered me more than it bothered him. I bandaged it up and, without thinking, I kissed the wound. I looked at him in utter shock …

… and he smiled.

My heart leapt.

It’s so nice to see him smile again. 

I never thought I would.

***

February 4th –

I took off Crowley’s bandage, and his wound from the cheese grater is gone! There’s not a trace of it left!

I guess that answers that question.

I should be relieved, but it bothers me, and I don’t know why.

***

February 21st –

Today was the most unexpectedly intense, depressing, and wonderful day all at once.

It started when Crowley woke this morning. He got up before me and tried to make me crepes. I had no idea why. He hadn't tried to cook by himself before, didn't even show an interest in cooking without me. He burned them, himself, and the stove all in one go. The fire alarm woke me, blaring in my ears. I managed to get to the extinguisher in time, but poor Crowley looked heartbroken over his ruined pan of blackened food.

Then, before lunch, he wanted to go outside. I think he was trying to sneak out, but I caught him jiggling the front doorknob (he has yet to master the bolt - thank God). When I caught him, he slammed his hand on the door in frustration and sprinted for the back one. I followed him, knowing it was locked and that he wouldn’t be able to open it. When I reached him, he was trying to wedge his way out of the old cat flap. (Note to self - board up the cat flaps! I don’t know why we kept them. We’ve never owned a cat.) 

I patted him gently on the shoulder and asked him what he needed. He stood up and groaned, moving his mouth and wiggling his tongue, making nonsensical sounds. When he couldn’t say what he needed to, he pointed out the window to the garden. I assumed he wanted to check on his dahlias. I’m a disaster with flowers, and, unfortunately, I haven’t been able to keep them up the way he could. 

Of course, it's one degree outside. The poor things are frozen solid. They're not even flowers any longer, I don't think, but the frigid remains of what they once were.

But he’d had yet to show any interest in them, either, before today. 

I shrugged, repeated that I didn’t understand. He pointed more forcefully, jabbing at the window with his index finger.

“I don’t know what you're trying to tell me, my dear,” I said. “Do you want to go for a walk?” 

I've taken him walking around Soho a few times. I've been trying to tie up loose ends, decide if selling the bookshop is the road to take. I wrapped him up in a full-length coat and scarf with just his eyes peeking out. I guess he enjoyed it, but he’d never asked to go outside. He shook his head and pointed again, this time at the dying rose bushes that I hadn’t had time to deadhead. I didn’t get it. I shook my head, and he stormed off to the bedroom.

I followed him there, but he blocked the door.

I could hear him inside, moaning. It was horrible. It sounded like pain and embarrassment and frustration, all rolled together. And I couldn’t help him.

He wouldn’t let me.

I tried to lure him out several times, but he didn’t come out till dinner time.

And when he did, he was dressed in a black Bergdorf suit.

Crowley has dozens of expensive black suits, and he looks stunning in all of them.

But this suit.

This suit in particular.

This suit had been hanging front and center in his closet.

Because it was the suit I had planned on burying him in.

It threw me for a loop, dragging me kicking and screaming back to that day I found out he had died, before I’d decided to try bringing him back, before I knew that I could. I took out the suit to air it. I guess I hadn’t put it back with the others because there it was, standing before me with the living corpse of my husband inside.

The sight took all the air out of my lungs.

“Take it off,” I said quietly, trying not to alarm him, but how was I supposed to explain to my somewhat dead husband that I didn’t want to see him dressed in the suit I had planned on putting him in the ground in?

He looked confused and shook his head, opening his mouth and groaning.

“Please, Crowley,” I begged, hoping he would hear my anguish and understand, “take it off.”

He stomped his foot and shook his head, the way a petulant child would. It should have been cute, but I couldn’t handle it. I've had issues getting used to his looks lo these many weeks, but for the first time since he came back to me, he looked dead.

“Take it off!” I screamed. I ran at him, grabbed the lapels, trying to tear it off his body. He held me, pinned my arms, and I could feel his renewed strength. I hadn’t really let him touch me before, but now I knew that if he wanted to, he could probably hurt me.

I stared up at him, realizing that he was hovering above me, and I was lying on my back on the floor. My heart stopped. He had never looked menacing before. Even in death, he seemed so innocent. But now, he looked like a monster. He had a piece of paper balled in his grasp, and he tried to make me look at it, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face – pale and cold and lifeless, regardless of the fact that he was my Crowley.

He stared at me, trying to speak.

It hit me like a pile of bricks.

Speak.

That’s exactly what he was doing. 

His lips were moving in exaggerated, grotesque ways that shouldn’t be able to turn sound into words, but they were.

“A … Az … Azi …”

Crowley blinked and shook his head.

“Azir …”

“Aziraphale?” I asked in awe that he was trying to say my name.

Crowley laughed. It was a glorious, hollow, frankly frightening sound, but I couldn’t help smiling when I heard it. He put his fingers to my lips. 

I guess he didn’t want me to steal his thunder.

“Azzzir-uh-phale,” he said, smacking his lips. “I … lo … I lov …” Crowley swallowed again, closing his eyes, trying to make the words in his head match the movement of his lips. “I … love … you … Azzzir-uh-phale.”

Crowley tapped again at the paper on the floor. This time I did what he wanted and looked. He had torn off the current page from the calendar and was poking at a box circled shakily in red. I peered down at it.

I could have cried.

“Our ... our anniversary?” I asked, looking into his broken eyes. He sighed, nodding.

It was our anniversary.

He’d wanted to make me breakfast in bed … for our anniversary.

He’d wanted to get me roses … for our anniversary.

My husband had wanted to do something nice for me … for our anniversary.

My husband had spent all day teaching himself how to say, “I love you, Aziraphale,” because there was nothing else he could do for me.

My husband remembered our anniversary ...

... even when I had not.

***

June 4th -

Five months-ish later…

I can’t believe it! 

I cannot believe it!

Five months later and we’ve made it! Despite the odds. Despite the difficulties and the heartaches. Despite every time I thought about giving up, here we are.

Happy.

Together.

We spend our days wrapped in each other’s arms. We watch TV. I read books out loud - he sits and listens. Crowley is re-learning how to drive, and I’m on the hunt for a new Bentley. Our lives might not be what they were before, but they’re perfect for us.

We’ve managed to go to the city more, spent a few glorious nights at our flat in Mayfair. We've even interacted with one or two of our old friends. It's a wonder what some foundation and blusher can accomplish! I told them it was a medical miracle, and they believed me.

Because that's what Crowley is.

A miracle!

Okay, maybe I am tempting fate. But maybe fate needs to be tempted from time to time! 

His vocabulary has expanded immensely, and a hint of his old suave confidence has come back, along with the muddy accent I so often teased him about.

I am finally at a point where I am optimistic about the future.

Because I’m beginning to think that there might actually be one for us.

***

August 13th –

I woke this morning to a strange squealing noise. At first, I thought it might be the smoke alarm again - odd since we got the cooking situation sorted, I thought. The longer I listened to it, the more I realized it wasn’t the smoke alarm. It didn’t sound familiar at all, so I didn’t worry too much about it. As long as an errant sheep didn’t get hit by a car, there was really no reason to jump out of bed and investigate. After a few minutes of listening to the goings-on outside, I determined that wasn’t the case, so I considered going back to sleep.

But then I noticed that Crowley wasn’t laying beside me in bed.

That isn’t too unusual. He’s normally the first one up on any given day. I just curl back into a ball holding his pillow to my chest until he returns.

He always returns.

The squealing wasn’t really that weird. I’ve thought for the last few months that we might have rats. Or squirrels. Or possums. I’ve heard that same squealing a few times before. But seeing as I can’t find any evidence of rodent-caused destruction anywhere in the house, I haven’t been too aggressive about hunting it down.

My stomach began to growl. I guessed I had been asleep for longer than I thought. Instead of returning to bed, I decided to make some waffles for breakfast. So I got up and went out into the kitchen.

That’s where I found Crowley.

He was crouching on the floor …

… covered in blood …

… biting into the spine of what used to be a raggedy old Maine coon …

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

He grinned his old, sly grin, licked his bloody lips, and said, "Hello, Aziraphale. Can I get you a cuppa tea? I know just how you like it."

He winked at me, and my heart stuttered.

…

I may have a problem.

***

Those are the last words on the page.

A page where the ink is smeared from tears, and the edges crusted in blood.

I haven’t seen Aziraphale or Crowley in decades. They used to send the occasional letter, but those stopped a while ago, and they never call. But something tells me neither of them ever left this house alive.

I’m afraid my time, too, has run out. I came to this house alone. But huddled in the darkest corner of the attic, I hear footsteps coming closer, a sour voice on the wind calling my name …

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

KA-THUNK!!

***

“Warlock Dowling!” Crowley calls, barging into the attic, footsteps heavy on the worn floorboards. “Are you recording another one of those Clip-Clop thingies again?”

“It’s TikTok, Nanny,” Warlock replies, rolling his eyes, “and no. I’m reading a story for my YouTube channel.”

“Well … you done getting a costume together or wot?” Crowley asks, changing the subject, saving face that he actually understands anything Warlock just said. “Adam and his hooligans are gonna be here in a minute. Aziraphale is gonna have kittens if you’re not ready to go Tricks or Treats!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Warlock says, gathering up his camera. He loves Halloween with a passion, but he’d been eyeing this one journal in Aziraphale’s bookshop for some time now. This video he’s been putting together promises to be epic - the crowning achievement of his burgeoning story channel. Most horror story channels get their material from the Creepypasta Reddit, but he has a unique source of original material … when he can get out to Soho, that is. “I’m coming.” He pulls the lapels of the leather jacket he’s borrowing for the evening together in front to tighten it up. 

It’s slim fit as it used to be Crowley’s from back in the day, but thirteen-year-old Warlock still swims in it. 

Warlock marches to the door under Crowley’s watchful eye. Before he can make his way through, Crowley stops him, slipping a hand underneath the jacket and rescuing an extraneous prop - an antique journal.

“Have you been snoopin’ through Angel’s old manuscripts again?” Crowley asks, wiping the cover clean. “You know how he feels bout that.”

“I know,” Warlock admits sheepishly, “but my audience loves them! I get thousands of hits off his stories! Besides, I put my own twist on them, freshen them up a bit.”

“Do you now?” Crowley asks with an unamused eyebrow notched.

“Why didn't he get them published?” Warlock shifts gears before the lecturing can start. “He’s an amazing writer!”

“He had his reasons,” Crowley mumbles, flipping through the pages. After skimming a passage or two, he puts it down on a pile of similar journals, a shiver sliding down his snakey spine. “Oof! Those things’ll give you nightmares.”

“They should terrify you. He’s murdered you in every single one!”

“Ah, but he does it with love.” Crowley grins wide enough to swallow his whole face. “It’s an honor.” 

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #tricketyboo2020 #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Getting away with it (5/?)

Summary: August Walker was dead. At least that’s what people believed for almost 2 years. When the CIA found reason to believe that he was alive they made it their top priority to find him. Including sending one of their best female agents to recruit his twin brother. Walter Marshall.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (Walker) + Walter Marshall x Reader (Walker)

Warnings: gun violence

Wordcount: 2.390

A/N: Are you guys ready for some plot? Cause there’s a lot of it in this

Masterlist

Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @theolsdalova / @greenmanalishi / @itsmydreamlifethings / @palaiasaurus64 / @celestial-vomit / @penwieldingdreamer / @notyourtypicalrose / @babypink224221 / @fanficsrusz / @solariumss / @starlite13 / @ly--canthrope / @mytbel0st / @oddsnendsfanfics / @ravenpuff02 / @sofiebstar / @chamomilebottom / @keiva1000 / @agniavateira / @peaceinourtime82​ / @dearlybelovedluke / @vania-marie / @fcgrizi / @mary-ann84 / @ayamenimthiriel / @radaofrivia / @ohjules / @omgkatinka / @xceafh​ / @diehadess​ / @watermeloncavill / @modernscarlett / @p3nny4urth0ught5 / @yespolkadotkitty / @desperate-and-broken / @blahdragonageblah / @alexakeyloveloki / @siriussnape07

@its-jb86 / @singeramg  / @mis-lil-red / @wildwavehc / @tumblnewby (I can’t tag you guys. Sorry)

Walker woke up with a serious headache the next morning. Groaning she opened her eyes, looking out of the window of her bedroom. Sighing she pushed herself up, finding a bottle of water and some advil on her bedside table. Frowning she looked around. The left side of her bed was untouched, like it had always been in the last years.

The last thing she could remember was Marshall telling her about his daughter Faye. But after that… 

Taking the advil, drowning it with the glass of water she slowly climbed out of bed, hoping that a shower would help her over her hungover.

She was about to head out to pick up Evie when her phone rang, showing Agent’s Millers caller ID.

“It’s sunday.” She took the call, hearing the man sigh on the other end of the line.

“I know. And I don’t want to keep you. Walter Marshall contacted me, he wants to meet tomorrow.” He said.

“I know.” She opened the door of her car and got in.

“How come?”

“Not that it is really any of your business but he told me yesterday that he was considering helping.”

“You’re in contact with him?”

“He’s technically my brother in law.” She flinched saying these words. She didn’t see him like that. At all. Maybe he could become a close friend. But saying that he was her brother in law meant acknowledging that they indeed was a blood relative of August. And even if they looked alike, she couldn’t think of two people who would be more different from each other than August and Marshall.

“Right. Okay. I will need you at 8 am sharp at the Headquarter for the briefing.”

“Why me?” She frowned.

“You will find that out tomorrow.”

“Very cryptic Robert.” She rolled her eyes, making the man chuckle.

“You know me. How’s Evie?” He asked.

“Picking her up from my Mom’s right now.”

“That’s nice. Okay I won’t keep you any longer. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

A cabin, somewhere deep in the woods, unknown location, the next day

It wasn’t much but it would be home for the next couple weeks. August had running water, electricity and WiFi. He could survive until the end of his days here. But that wasn’t his intention. August wanted to walk the streets, being praised as the saviour of humanity. People would understand why he did, what he was intending to do. The world couldn’t continue like that. The climate, the people. His contribution would save humanity. He just needed to wait for the rest of the world to see it.

Sitting at the kitchen table August logged into the darknet, intending to check the progress of the bio weapon deal he had arranged for the end of next month, when he looked at the date. How could he forget? 5 years ago, almost to the hour, had been one of the happiest days of his life. His old life. Because that day had also been the first day he began to think that maybe he had to take things into in his own hands, if he wanted to have a future worth living.

5 years ago, Central Park, New York City

“I can’t believe we are doing this.” She giggled, holding on to August was they walked towards their final destination. She was wearing a knee length tulle dress. The skirt a light gray, the top in black, a dark gray silk belt around her waist. He hair lay in long dark waves over her shoulder, the red long gone he had loved so much. Her bright red lips smiled up at him. August Walker had finally found the only woman he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. The love he was feeling for her, how she made him feel with only a curve of her lips upwards as she looked at him… It took his breath every time.

So yesterday, when he woke up before her, with her in his arms he decided he didn’t want to wait any longer. While she was sleeping he had arranged for them to get married on the next day. He had asked her almost 2 months ago, none of them feeling the urge to hurry getting married. Until August woke up that day.

“Better believe it. After today, you’re mine and mine alone.” He smiled down. He had decided for dark dress pants, a gray dress shirt that seemed to match the tone of her silk belt. August never had spared a second thought about a traditional wedding. Or a wedding at all. That they would be getting married on the Bow Bridge in central park, just the two of them seemed to be the perfect continuation of their relationship.

“I’ve been yours for a while now, August.” She grinned, her hand squeezing his as they walked towards the bridge where he could see a minister waiting for them.

“We don’t even have rings.” She shook her head.

“We do.” He smiled.

“We do?” She asked in surprise.

“I’ve had them for a month now.” He grinned making her giggle.

“Sometimes I can’t believe you August Walker.”

“Better do, because in about half an hour, you’ll be the Misses Walker. You’ll be stuck with me forever.” He kissed her temple.

 They celebrated by having her favorite ice cream as they slowly walked back to the apartment they were staying in. Another mission would take them to Argentina the next day and after that they would be moving to Langley to work at the CIA headquarters.

The feeling that spread in August’s chest as the minister pronounced them married made him feel as if he could do anything, followed by the overwhelming urge to protect her. To keep her safe. Up until now he had never even thought about the possibility of losing her.

“August…” She smiled up.

“Mrs. Walker.” He grinned.

“I’m not getting rid of that anytime soon, hm?” She giggled, licking on her ice cream. He shook his head.

“I know we said no presents, but I t’m very anxious in telling you about this because we have never ever talked about it…” He saw her nervously biting on her bottom lip, making him frown. He stopped walking, standing in front of her, tilting her chin up so she looked at him.

“You are my wife. There’s nothing you could tell me that we can’t figure out together.” He smiled encouragingly. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, opening her eyes as she breathed out.

“August, I’m pregnant.”

It was like all the noise around them died down in the moment the words left her lips. Something in the back of August head registered her words, but the other part, the part that always was there, the Agent part of him seemed to take over before he knew that he had put his arms around Walker, shielding her from the bullet that had hit her head if he hadn’t turned her away. He barely registered the pain in his left shoulder as he pushed her to lay beneath him, her eyes big, her hands on his chest.

“August…” She whispered, looking up at him. “Your phone, where is it?” She asked. His eyes wandered down, making her reach into his pants to pull out the phone. Slowly he looked up seeing 5 armed men randomly shooting people all around them. Walker would have sent the distress call by now, but he still had to get her out of here. Her and his child.

“You’re bleeding.” She whispered.

“I know.” He pressed out, his mind going a hundred miles per minute. There was a fountain next to them. 

“I want you to crawl to the fountain and get in it. I’m going to take care of his. I need you to be safe.” August said, leaving no room for argument.

“You have no weapons.” She reminded him.

“I don’t need them. I need you and our child to be safe.” He urged, making her swallow before a little smile sneaked through her face. Carefully cupping his cheek she nodded.

“Please be safe. I… We need you.” She took one of his hand, pressing it to her belly. Leaning down he kissed her longingly.

“Go.” He whispered, before he pushed himself off the ground and did what he told her, took care of it.

The wound in his right shoulder seemed to twitch as he thought back. The bullet had to be removed in surgery back then. On his wedding day. Walker’s dress had been drenched with his blood. But all he thought of was that he had been scared. Scared to bring a child in a world like this. How would he be able to protect the woman he loved and the child that he wanted to grow up in peace? The world around him was dying. And the people living in it seemed to fuel it. 

An incoming message stopped him in his thoughts. 

A.Nonymus: Meeting confirmed. Coordinates will be send 3 days prior, transport will be arranged

Smiling August closed his laptop. If everything would go right, he would be reunited with his family in less than two months.

Langley, Virginia, the same day

“Grandma’s gonna pick you up after kindergarten. Mommy has to work late today.” Walker said, packing the breakfast for her daughter.

“Okay.” Evie said, eating her cereal.

“Finish eating, I’m just gonna grab something upstairs.” Walker smiled. Evie nodded, grinning at her, making Walker chuckle. 

Upstairs Walker grabbed her badge and her laptop in her office, picking up some files when her eyes lingered on today’s date. In another life she would have woken up her husband with breakfast in bed. Taken the day off to spend it with him. She felt an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia inside of her. Closing her eyes she breathed in deep, once, twice. She didn’t even know she had moved until she was sitting with a box in her lap in her office chair. The box she had put in everything that reminded her of him. Even if he had hurt her in all ways possible. He was a big love in her life. Maybe the biggest love of her life.  He gave her Evie. She hated him, yes. But deep inside she knew there would always be a part of her that would love him. Swallowing she opened the box, smiling a little when she saw one of the few pictures they had taken on their wedding day. They had been so happy. What had started as the happiest day of her life turned into the worst. Thinking back that probably was the day he began to change. The look in his eyes as she told him she was pregnant. She had never seen him so happy. She had been a mess since she had found out two days prior. And then he had surprised her with their wedding. She wanted to tell him before but… Thinking back it wouldn’t have changed anything.

She still didn’t know how he killed the 5 men that had been attacking central park after their wedding. She had been hiding in the fountain, like he instructed. She knew the look in his eyes. The one that left no room for argument. 

Running her fingers over the picture she sighed, not even noticing the tears running down her cheeks. Swallowing the lump in her throat she closed the box, brushing her tears away, before she got up from the chair and grabbed all her stuff. For her this would be a day like every other.

Walter was waiting for her in front of her office. He had changed from his usual attire of a comfy sweater to a white dress shirt. Even his beard seemed to be trimmed.

People around him gave him questioning looks, even more when she walked towards him to hug him as she said hello.

“Weird that there is no SWAT team already here to take you in.” Shejoked.

“Very funny. Your boss told me to wait for you here and take you to room 202 right away. But I think it’s best if you take me to said room because this is a fucking maze.” He chuckled.

“Gimme a second. Just need to grab some stuff.” She opened the office door, setting the files she had taken home down on her desk.

“How bad was the headache?” He asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh bad… What reminds me… I didn’t tell you embarassing stuff from my past, right?” She asked. He laughed, shaking his head.

“I did most of the talking. You fell asleep halfway through. I just put you to bed and left. Hope that was okay.” 

“You put me to bed?” She asked, going through her mail.

“Carried you. Couldn’t have let you sleep outside, couldn’t I?” 

She looked up, seeing his soft smile. He had carried her to bed? A blush crept to her cheeks, silently wishing she would remember it.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, breaking the eye contact and going through the rest of her mail. A small package was the last thing she picked up. It had no return address. She knew that their intern post office would have already scanned the package, so she ripped it open, her favorite box of chocolates falling out. 

Gasping loudly she reached for the letter falling out.

“What is it?” Marshall asked, taking the few steps to stop in front of her desk. Pushing the letter towards him so he could read, she swallowed.

“Don’t touch it. I need to send this to evidence. All of it.” She whispered.

“You don't marry someone you can live with — you marry someone you cannot live without. Happy anniversary” Marshall read out loud, looking up at Walker with a hard face.

“We should get to the briefing now.” He whispered back. She nodded, reaching for the phone to call for the evidence team to extract the things.

“I need someone from evidence to come and pick something up. And I need to talk to the post offices and I need the CVR’s from the whole weekend.” She said when her call connected.

“No. Now. August Walker send me a package and I need to know how.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #august walker #walter marshall #henry cavill #august walker x reader #walter marshall x reader

[maomao-words]

Hello there! May I request Gavin x MC where she’s a medic and happened to be entangled in a hospital hostage scenario because of some deranged patient then Gavin who’s in a mission found out after hearing the news or something? Then she’s just downplaying the event and maybe her injury just so he doesn’t worry? Thank you so much!

You guys sure like your Medic!MC (✿´‿`)

I think it’s quite clear at this point but I adore angst! Please keep sending me angsty requests because I live for them! *glance back at the 546 other fluffy and sweet requests I have and nervously laugh* I’ll get down to those shortly, I swear!

My ask box is still open for the moment!

Trigger Warning: A touch of angst, blood-shed, near-death experience.

MLQC Gavin and a Medic!MC who got caught in a hospital hostage situation:

Dried blood.

That was the first thing Gavin saw.

The once snow-clear walls of the reception area of the hospital were stained with the rich and deep color of blood. The marble floor, where few bodies covered in a white cloth were waiting to be transported, also carried the bloody trails of last night’s tragedy. Wails and muffled sobs could be heard from every corner of the vast room, and police officers trickled in and out of the place, barely withstanding the heavy metallic smell dripping from everywhere.

Flashing his badge at the official standing near the entrance, Gavin took his first steps into the hospital. At his sight, a young man dressed in a black uniform moved from his position and came closer to him. Without bothering to greet each other, few whispers were exchanged between the two and a thin document was handed to Gavin.

With his duty fulfilled, the young man lightly bowed and moved to leave when Gavin’s quiet voice echoed in the silence.

“Where is he?”

The man blinked in confusion at the question, a frown immediately appearing between his brows.

“With all due respect sir, but this is outside of your jurisdiction. The director only ordered for you--”

One single glance at Gavin’s face was all it took for the man to swallow his tongue. The cold, cruel and ruthless eyes that were gazing back at him were wordlessly screaming at him to shut the fuck up before he tore his throat out. It took a mere heartbeat for the man to decide which choice was worth more: Revealing the whereabouts of the deranged monster who just killed four people in one night or risk having his eyes gouged out by the equally dangerous man standing in front of him?

The decision made was easy enough.

After being handed the rest of the documents he demanded, Gavin silently watched as the guy deeply bowed at him this time before hurrying over to the exit as if afraid he will be asked to hand out his life next.

Once the man was out of his vision, Gavin turned to focus all of his attention on the few papers in his hands, which resume the happenings of the previous night... the night he almost lost you for good.

The report cited that the night started out normal. The hospital you worked for was considered one of the best in the area, yet due to its relatively small size, it tended to get too crowded at times. It was already past midnight when the first signs of trouble started to appear.

Gavin flipped a page and continued reading. At a corner of the next paper was a half-torn image of a man. Underneath it, it was recorded that he was admitted to this hospital a few days ago due to a dislocated jaw and several broken ribs caused by a savage brawl at a bar. The man’s situation was not dangerous enough to threaten his life, but the document registered the various precautions the hospital had to take during his stay due to his peculiar identity. The man carried a heavy medical record as well as a pretty bloody criminal history. The hospital, which was extremely concerned about the safety of its staff and its other patients, requested the transfer of the man to another major hospital that was secured enough to dismiss any worries. Due to the serious circumstances at hand, the transfer was approved as fast as possible, but unfortunately, it was not fast enough to prevent an entire massacre from occurring.

It all started with one of the nurses in charge of the floor the man was kept at. A young woman barely out of her residency training was found on the floor of his room, bleeding to her death through the multiple gashes in her head and stomach. Near her was an empty bed filled with blood-stained bandages.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

The doctor who entered the room an hour later was the next victim. When he first stepped inside, he found the room shrouded in full darkness except for the faint light coming from the window. The doctor cursed inwardly at the incompetent nurse who was not doing her job properly and tapped his hands around the left wall until he found the light switch and flipped it on. It took a few seconds for the doctor’s eyes to get used to the now bright room and to step forward. The scene which greeted him, however, was not one he ever expected and was unfortunately the very last one he will ever come to see.

Suffocated to death. Gavin read in bold letters as unrestrained rage started to boil once again in his veins.

Once the doctor’s lifeless body hit the floor, all hell broke loose as the man’s appetite for blood was awakened.

The next two victims fell prey to the man quite quickly as the clock neared two in the morning. Their bodies were stashed away in a supply closet out of everyone’s sight as the psychopath made his way down to the reception area, where you were at

Gavin sighed and rubbed his exhausted eyes. His fingers stopped moving, refusing to turn the next page.

He could still hear your broken voice over the phone after you begged one of your colleagues to call him as you bled to death on the cold, hard floor.

Gavin has been barely sleeping for half an hour after finishing up with his most recent mission when the familiar tune of his phone woke him up. His brain, muddled with sleep, did not register your very first words. He hummed in exhaustion, slowly turning his aching body in the bed and struggling to focus on what you were saying when the sounds of your sobs finally hit his ears.

“--Just know that I love you and that I- want... I want you to be happy- even without m-me-”

Your last words were broken, so full of anguish and grief and Gavin was fully awake in a heartbeat. He could hear police sirens in the background but he could not understand what was going on. But before Gavin could even start to formulate a question, your weak voice started up again.

“Take good care of your--self, baby,” before the line was abruptly cut off and only eerie silence remained.

A gentle tap on his shoulder snapped Gavin out of his thoughts and he turned around to greet Anna. She weakly smiled at him and his eyes traveled down to her bandaged arms before asking her how she was feeling. After the call was cut off with you, Anna was the one who reached out to Gavin to inform him of what was happening and to urge him to hurry back to you.

Anna told him how the lunatic tried to choke the first medic he laid eyes on, the minute he steeped into the lobby of the reception area.

That medic happened to be you.

Once your screams and wails reached the ears of the few nurses and doctors close by, they all came running for you. The man, instead of feeling cornered, seemed to enjoy the new attention that came with trying to kill you, and only increased the strength of his fists around your neck, threatening to snap it if anyone came near.

The situation was too fragile for anyone to directly attempt to get him away from you, but the police has been contacted already at that point, and all was left was to pray that the lunatic won’t kill you before they arrive.

Once the maniac realized that all exits were blocked and that the police was on the way, he recognized that his ‘game’ with you has come to an end and started to nervously glance around for a way out. Taking advantage of this moment of panic, Anna flung herself at him in an attempt to loosen his hold on you but the man’s stolen scalpel was faster than her and he ended up slashing your neck in the struggle.

Anna was sobbing her heart out when she delivered the news to Gavin and barely managed to tell him that you were rushed to an emergency surgery before Gavin was up on his feet and out of his hotel’s room.

Anger, frustration, bitterness, anguish, hatred and guilt all welled up inside of Gavin’s chest until all he wanted to do was scream until his throat was sore. His eyes were burning and his chest felt heavy as if it were filled with lead as he drove back to Loveland city at dawn .

Gavin felt as if the world was crumbling around him the moment he laid his eyes on your bruised figure helplessly laying on the hospital bed.

In the few hours it took for you to finally open your eyes and to smile weakly at him, Gavin felt as if he was stuck underwater, with everything slow and warbled around him. Only when he tenderly held your hand and gently kissed your knuckles that Gavin finally felt able to properly breathe again.

But things were far from being over.

Gavin was not planning on putting last night’s massacre to rest until the lunatic tasted hell itself.

That was the oath Gavin swore as he turned around to smile at Anna before gently knocking on your hospital room.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mr love gavin

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 5

Woo, it finally happened, the do is at the end of the chapter. Again, a thousand thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing ice orcs with me. I’m having way too much fun. 

Jewel Of The North 

Part 5

You were walking towards the barn, feeling the slight burn of the sun on your skin as you watched Noah bend over to trim your horse's feet, his ferrier tools in the stand around him. His shirt was dirty and sweaty and hugging his muscles beautifully and the chilled lemonade in your hand didn’t compare to the fire of lust and love and adoration in your heart and mind as you waited until he was done with that particular hoof and stood up and righted himself to approach closer. 

“Thirsty?” You offered the lemonade to him before he grinned giddily as he got it and happily gulped it down and you watched the apple in his throat bob with the motion. 

“You need another or did that quench your thirst?” You asked once he had downed it. 

“Almost.” He admitted before he pulled you to him and kissed you deeply. You could taste the sweet lemon and sugar from the lemonade and just a hint of the pulled pork from lunch. 

And of course the kiss progressed and you suddenly transported to your bathroom where he was pinning you against the wall so he could pound into you as the hot water sprayed all around you and to feel the heat of his body wrapped around your own and practically pulsing inside you as he was stretching you to the max and grounding you yet making you feel lighter than air as his mouth was on your own, swallowing your whimpering cries of ecstasy was pure euphoria and no sooner had you cum in the shower before you were rolling around in the silken sheets of your bed, trying all kinds of positions. 

“How close are you?” Noah rumbled as you could tell he was getting so excruciatingly close himself. 

“I already came in the shower, it’s your turn Babe.” You cooed. 

“Nope, wrong answer.” Noah teased before he pulled out and left you trying to grab him to pull him back before he attached his mouth to your sex and promptly devoured you before you were pushed to the edge. 

“There you are, now, let’s try to do this together,” Noah encouraged before he settled himself back into you and started to really stroke himself into you instead of the heavy pounding and good god, it was the best sex of your life and together you reached your climaxes as you both tightly held the other, wrapped up in comfort and warmth and each other as the rest of the world faded away, leaving the two of you in peace and happiness. Then the blare of the alarm...

You woke up the next morning, your underwear soaked in your essence and got a quick shower and got dressed before you called your kids. 

“Good morning sleepyheads.” You cooed. 

“Good morning.” you heard them both answer sleepily. 

“Aww, did I wake you up too early? Before noon?” You teased as you got your shoes on. 

“Yes.” They answered. 

“It’s summer vacation, it’s still am so it’s morning.” Xander grumped. 

“Oh it’s only 10 am there, that’s still sleeping in plenty.” You gently argued. 

“Which means it’s seven there, you’re on vacation, why would you get up so early on vacation?” Skylar complained. 

“Because I’m going fishing today, with Noah and Sakura but we’re going to really be in the middle of nowhere because he’s taking me to tribal lands where there are no cell towers for miles so you won’t be able to get a hold of me and so this was my chance to check in today.” 

“Is this the same Noah that flew you in?” Xander questioned. 

“Yup, the same Noah I spent all day Tuesday watching his daughter who I would adopt and take home with me in a heartbeat if I could.” You confessed. 

“The one who lost her mom?” Skylar remembered. 

“Yup, the very one. She’s the one that’s in the same boat you’re in.” You confirmed. 

“Because her mom died and left her all the land that she got the same way you got your estates.” Xander recalled. 

“Yup and because I have a lot of first hand experience with that kind of thing. I’m gonna try to help her and her dad deal with it. At least better than I did in the beginning.” You revealed. 

“Cool.” Xander chirped. 

“So do you like Noah? Is that why you’re spending the day with them?” Skylar asked curiously. 

“I do like him. Noah is...well...he’s awesome. He has been nothing but respectful and perfectly pleasant and professional as a pilot and a friend and I can see why he’s friends with everyone up here because he’s a good friend to have.” You answered. 

“No like, like him like him, like romantically.” Skylar specified as you heard Xander go ‘oh gods’ in a groan in the background. 

“I’ll be honest. Yes. But I think it’s one sided, because he has been friendly but he hasn’t really been flirty or anything. But I haven’t been super flirty to begin with.” 

“Good!” Xander boomed. 

“Hey, as I recall, I believe both of you were ok with me moving on romantically since your dad died and you two were the ones that set me up on that date with Alex.” You countered with a frown. 

“Which was a disaster.” Skylar remembered. 

“True.” Xander conceded. 

“But Noah is a bush pilot in the Arctic Tundra, that’s one of hell of a niche Mom and he can’t do that in too many other places, he’s an ice orc which is a tribe that originated up there and rarely move away. I mean it’s an awesome job and sounds kick ass, and I’ll bet it’s gorgeous up there but from what you’ve told us about him, I don’t think he’s gonna give all that up. And you have it too good right where you are and you shouldn’t move either. Just leave it as friends Mom.” Xander pleaded with you and you hated to admit it but he was right and had very good points. Xander had inherited all the sensibleness from Andy. 

“I know, you’re right.” You conceded even though your heart and soul were throwing tantrums within you and clinging to your fantasies for dear life. 

“But you should still enjoy your time up there mom. Maybe we can come up and see everyone some time when we’re all together.” Skylar offered sweetly just as the first few tears started to fall as you nodded in agreement. Grateful they couldn’t see you. 

“Yup, there’s a really nice hunting and fishing resort up here, maybe we can come back here and stay there.” You offered as you discretely wiped the tears from your eyes and willed yourself not to cry any more. Feeling like a teenager with your first soul crushing crush. 

“I’ll try to call you guys later ok? Be good for Mimi and PawPaw and Granny and Papa ok?” You urged them. “Love you lots, bye.” You bid them. 

“Love you too Mom, bye.” They echoed. 

You found your composure and finished packing your things up that you felt you would need today. Extra sets of clothes and layers just in case you fell into the water or the temperature decided to vary greatly, your emergency spices just in case you cooked whatever you caught. Snacks just in case you didn’t catch anything. An emergency kit just in case anyone gashed their hand open and needed medical attention. A few handheld games for Sakura to keep her quiet just in case she wasn’t fond of fishing and battery packs for your devices along with a few other essentials. You were determined to have a great day fishing with Noah and Sakura and prayed that you would have a good day nonetheless and to have peace in your heart so you could enjoy the moments today and commit them to memory. 

When you were done you walked the now familiar route to Noah’s house, hoping you weren’t coming too early and no sooner had you stepped foot on the porch when the door opened to reveal Noah with a bed head worthy of a few more fantasies and a bright happy smile that shamed the sun that had you mirroring it as the dogs rushed past him to greet you excitedly too before they left to do their business. 

“Good morning, hope I’m not too early.” You greeted bashfully. 

“Nope, just woke up, wanted to make sure I didn’t sleep in and miss you.” Noah reassured you as he ushered you inside before you set down your stuff by the door before you went to the kitchen together to get coffee and breakfast ready as the two of you easily fell back into a routine, that while it was new, it was somehow so familiar and comfortable and second nature to you both and it was while you were scrambling eggs that you noticed Noah give you a look you didn’t quite know how to read. It wasn’t bad but it filled you with...you didn’t know what, excitement? Curiosity? Giddiness? What?!

“What?” You asked over your shoulder. 

“Um, I was just thinking…”

“About?” You prodded. 

“About…” Noah took a deep breath and looked particularly nervous all of a sudden as he started to wipe his hands off on a rag from mixing together pancake batter. 

“I wanted…” Noah began before his thunder cat rubbed against your leg before it started to climb you like a tree again. 

“Ah, Baby, I’m cooking, I can’t have you on my shoulders right now, your hair will get in the food.” You cooed to the cat before Noah came over and got the cat off your shoulder before the cat tried to use it’s sharp claws to dig into your clothes and howled in protest. “Sorry, he really likes you.” Noah confessed as the two of you worked on getting the cat’s claws out of your clothes and once successfully detached he went to the back sliding doors and put the cat out and shut the door so it wouldn’t interrupt further.  

“So you were saying you were thinking about what again?” You prompted once he was done. 

“Right, um, so, uh, I wanted you to meet the rest of my family.” Noah finally blurted as there was a hint of fear in his eyes which gave you just a moment of pause. 

“Oh, to discuss Sakura’s inheritance? Do you want to make sure they’re all comfortable with me being involved in any of it?” You supplied since that was the only reasonable, non romantic reason you could think of for meeting them. Trying to stamp down your hopes that he wanted you to meet his family for any other reason. 

“Yeah, sure,” Noah confirmed with a nod as his shoulders sagged in defeat just a little. 

“Ok, cool, when?” You asked. 

“Well, today my Mom was going to be calling everyone to see what times would work best for everyone while we went fishing.” Noah informed you. 

“Oh, well I’m free the rest of the week, so I’m free whenever. If it would help I can provide references, like my analyst and my own lawyers or even see if they can suggest anyone to use up here.” You suggested. 

“Only if you wanted to.” Noah answered you could see he was trying to cover up his disappointment. Was he disappointed with you? Is that not what he was asking or wanting from you?

Meanwhile- Noah was internally and existentially screaming and screeching into the void and cursing himself for being so chicken shit to not say what he really wanted. He was such a coward and he was so epically and historically bad with words. All he wanted was you. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to court you or even fight for the chance just to try. He was so hopelessly in love with you it wasn’t funny and if he had one more sex dream about you, his nuts were going to explode along with his head. He wanted to pick you up and sit you up on his counter and feast on you for breakfast before Sakura would wake up. This was his one shot to confess his feelings and he was blowing it and he couldn’t stop it. Like being in a river that’s way too strong and carrying him away from shore and he was doing everything in his power to fight against it but the stronger he struggled, the stronger the current and he couldn’t get traction and he was running out of time and he was missing his chance on happiness and his happily ever after with you damn it. 

But then you were sniffing the air and turning to take the eggs out of the pan before they burned and his moment was gone. He wondered if you would freak out if he just came up behind you and hugged you and started kissing you, would that be inappropriate? How would you react? Would you like that? Be put off and leave? Freak out? Turn and kiss him back hopefully? Grind your ass into his manhood? He could dream. 

Then he heard a giggle. Damn it, Sakura was up and his chance to have you all alone to himself was over. 

“Good morning Pumpkin.” You cooed when you heard the giggle and looked over at the stairs to see Sakura spying on you from them. 

“Good morning Paradise.” She answered before she came all the way down the stairs. 

“How long have you been up there spying huh?” You asked as you came over to her and hugged her tight. 

“Since Angry Pants climbed you.” Sakura answered and suddenly Noah was wondering if his instincts just knew it wasn’t the right time. Dang it. Well the day was young, he would hopefully have another chance some time today. Or at least that was what he was going to be praying for. 

“I see, well let's get you some juice and breakfast, we have an awesome day ahead of us and we need to have food as fuel for it.” You urged her as you got her some eggs to start eating and some juice as Noah went about pouring the pancake batter in the other pan to make the pancakes before you went back to the stove to work on the bacon and the sausage before you would make Noah’s eggs and your eggs and stood side by side in front of his stove as you wanted nothing more than to have him put his arm around you. Around your shoulders, your waist, you didn’t care. But something, you were craving his touch and his closeness even though Xander’s words tortured you from the back of your mind. What if this was a fantasy escape for you? What if it was nothing more? No, your heart assured you that was not the case. What if all he wanted was just help with his daughter and nothing else from you? Perhaps that was what you feared most right now. Because you were ready to offer yourself and everything you had up to him and what if he didn’t want you romantically? You would have to learn how to be content with a platonic relationship with him but you did get close enough that your arms were touching and you could feel the heat roll off of him and the stove and you just wanted to cuddle into his side. 

And then you felt it, his hand splayed comfortingly on your back and if you could have sprouted wings and hugged him with them you would have, before the hand went to your far shoulder and suddenly he was resting his arm over your shoulders and you took that as a sign that snaking your own arm around his waist was an ok move as you both leaned into the side of the other. And you were afraid to look but the happy contented smile on your face as mentally you were going ‘fuck it, I want to be happy and close to him right now’. 

All that mattered was right now and right now your brain was swimming in endorphins from just this little touch. It was heaven. Maybe he didn’t mean it to be as intimate as you felt it was but you didn’t care. You were just...happy. So happy right now. You haven’t been this happy in...a very long time and in your wildest dreams, you would find a way to make this work. Maybe he isn’t great with words? Maybe he’s showing you through his actions how he feels? Maybe. 

You did everything in your power to stay right where you were because you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to break the bubble you were in because in your heart you wanted this moment to last forever. But once all the eggs were fried and all the bacon and sausage and potatoes and onions and pancakes were cooked you both begrudgingly parted to take the food to the table to eat but sat kitty corner from each other at the small table and if he had reached out to hold your hand you would have held it but he was using both of his hands to eat his breakfast but Sakura was just happy to jabber on about all the different kinds of fish you could catch today as you gave Noah a fond smile as you just let her tell you all about fish. You could listen to her talk for hours on end about anything she was passionate about. 

Once breakfast was done, you quickly did the dishes while Noah and Sakura got ready and packed up for your ‘adventure’ and once packed up, you let the horses out in the pasture and taken care of for the day before you loaded up his truck as the dogs jumped into the bed of the truck to watch the stuff since they were coming too and made a quick stop at a little outpost/ grocery store to get supplies like bait and beer since you had already packed a bunch of snacks and drinks for Sakura at home from what you had bought the other day. But this place had local moose jerky and homemade doughnuts that you needed in your life ASAP. 

“Hey Noah,” a guy greeted him as you were around the corner letting Sakura pick out whatever her heart desired. 

“Hey Tim.” Noah greeted back before they shook hands. 

“Have you heard anything from Derek or Evan or anyone from their gang?” Tim asked him. 

“Nope, picked up their loads yesterday though cause no one could get a hold of them.” Noah answered as you made sure to stay out of sight. 

“Well I finally talked to them today and turns out they went drinking with some super hot Moscow Doll. They must have partied pretty hard because they’re still wasted as of about half an hour ago and can’t hardly move even now. They actually pissed and shit themselves because they couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom.” 

You did your best to hide your erupting snicker under Noah’s who snickered and laughed at their misfortune. 

“Gross, well I don’t know what you could have expected, they’re young and stupid and stupid is as stupid does I guess.” Noah shrugged. 

“True.” Tim nodded. “So what are you up to today?” Tim changed the subject. 

“Taking Sakura and our new friend Zara fishing.” Noah answered, feeling bad to call you ‘a friend’ because if he had been brave earlier he could have asked you out and he could be introducing you as his girlfriend. 

But alas, chicken shit was he. 

“Oh,” Tim blinked but smiled wide as you seemed to take that cue and appear from the other aisle. 

“I heard my name.” You announced. 

“Zara, this is my friend Tim Baker.” Noah introduced. 

“Zara Kingsley, pleasure to meet you.” You greeted sweetly as you shook his hand, kind of grateful you weren’t wearing any makeup or anything and dressed down and hopefully neither Tim or Noah would make the connection that you were that Moscow Doll. Which honestly was an awesome alias. 

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He returned as he shook your hand firmly. “That’s a strong hand shake.” Time appraised, impressed. 

“Sorry, day job, I’m an LMT, strong grip is in the job description.” You tried to laugh off. 

“A what now?” He asked. 

“LMT- it’s an acronym for licenced massage therapist, like EMT or CEO.” you supplied. 

“Oh sweet, did you just move here?” He asked hopefully. 

“Unfortunately no, just visiting this time. My home base is in the Great Lakes.” You answered before you got into your wallet and handed him a business card as he whistled at it. 

“Wow, that’s the fanciest thing I’ve ever had in my hand.” Tim appraised which got you to chuckle. 

“That’s not a nice comparison to Tammy, she’s plenty fancy.” Noah teased which got everyone but Sakura to laugh harder. 

“I take it Tammy is the better half.” You assumed as you glanced down to see a thin gold band on Tim’s left hand.  

“Nope, I’m the better half, I’m the best thing in her life.” Tim smoothed his hands down his front, stroking his beer gut affectionately as he smiled cheesily which got you to laugh even harder. 

“Oh that poor woman.” You and Noah answered in unison as you both shook your head. 

“Jinks!” You managed to get out first as Noah snapped his fingers in defeat but smiled happily nonetheless. 

“Ha! I win, I get to buy the snacks and the beer.” You insisted as you pried the beer from Noah’s fingers and took Sakura to the checkout counter. 

“Hurry before your Dad stops us!” You giggled to Sakura who took the opportunity to grab handfuls of candy from the display by the cash register to add to her ‘loot’. 

“Just friends? Really?” Tim questioned a little disbelieving as he gave Noah a meaningful look but a knowing smile. 

“She’s only been visiting in town since Sunday and I’m the one who flew her in.” Noah revealed, dropping his voice down to a low murmur. 

“I see, well it seems she’s great with Sakura, she’s got strong mom vibes and she seemed like she a could be a local if you asked her to be.” Tim appraised. 

“Well she is a mother, has two kids of her own back home.” 

“And the dad?” Tim asked. 

“Dead, she’s widowed.” Noah answered. 

“Oh perfect, no asshole ex or visitation or anything like that to deal with, just what you needed, you’re practically made for each other.” Tim grinned mischievously as Noah gave him an unimpressed look. “Well stop yapping with me, take her fishing, take her to the Honeymoon spot or something, don’t be keeping a gem like her waiting.” Tim urged him as Tim noticed you had gotten your stuff and had left the store with Sakura in tow and you sure did look like a perfect fit for Noah and Sakura to him. You just exuded sweetheart and that’s what Noah needed in his opinion, and you were really pretty au naturale too. He could see there were sparks there and he would be praying that Noah would make a move before you would leave as Noah left the place and happily rejoined you in the truck and drove to the airstrip before the two of you loaded everything onto the plane as Sakura happily kept the dogs on board and got settled in herself and once it was all packed up, the three of you settled in and by now you had grown almost used to the feeling of taking off before Noah turned the plane north eastern and flew, you could see the snow capped mountains and pockets of lakes and streams and super intense greens from the wilderness splattered with pockets of civilization, and just the majesty of it all took your breath away and you prayed your brain was recording it so you could dream about this moment in the future. It was just perfect. 

Noah flew the familiar route to the perfect spot, where it would just be the three of you for miles and miles around and hopefully the fishing would be good too.

And once it was in sight he pointed it out to you. 

“That’s where we’re going.” He pointed to it as he got in position and descended and made sure to put the right landing gear down and touched down into the water before taxing himself around to the best spot in the lake where a few streams came in and out of the lake before he turned the plane off and lowered the back hatch/tailgate down to the right height so you could fish off of it before he got his camping chairs and practically set up his own dock on the tailgate complete with a cooler full of ice and beer and drinks and camp chairs and snacks and rods and reels and tackle and everything. 

“Ooh, I like this, this is wonderful.” You praised as you sat down in the other camp chair that Noah set up just for you as Sakura was sitting in her kid’s camping chair. 

“And the great thing about being in the water like this is the bugs aren’t as bad and you don’t have to worry about bears as much, moose can still swim out this far though but at least we can see stuff coming.” Sakura beamed happily as she got all her snacks and juice boxes and stuff set up around her as the dogs happily sat on the edge and looked out into the water and basked in the sun before Noah got all the fishing poles out and got them set up before he handed you one before you cast it out.  

“Nice cast.” Noah praised. 

“Thanks, my family are big fishers. We would go fishing all the time both in childhood and adulthood and we would go out and usually catch our limit. What is the limit by the way?” You asked. 

“There isn’t one, we’re on Sungilak Tribal Lands and this whole area and for oh, probably a hundred miles in any direction is still our lands and we don’t have limits on fish or game or anything. So since you are a guest of the clan and have permission from two clan members, you don’t have any limits on anything you catch either and you don’t need any licenses or anything. Our permission and invitation is enough.” Noah reassured you as Sakura beamed proudly at you too. 

“Aww, thanks.” You answered, feeling particularly touched by their gesture as you realized this was a great honor. For them to share their birthright like this was incredibly generous. You knew Noah was of humble means, and this was perhaps one of the few things he could share with you and it was incredibly precious. 

“Can I get a few pictures of this?” You asked hopefully. 

“Sure.” Noah nodded before you took pictures of Sakura sitting next to you in the chair with her little fishing pole, the line hanging off the edge in her sunglasses and snacks and dogs looking pretty as a picture before you got selfies of the two of you and the drop dead gorgeous scenery. 

“Smile Noah.” You prompted as you got pictures of him actually fly fishing off the back of the tailgate before he flashed you a brilliant smile and you knew this picture you’d be treasuring for a lifetime. 

“Can we have some music?” You asked hopefully. 

“Uh, good luck getting a radio channel up here.” Noah replied. 

“Not a problem, I have premium Spotify and dozens of playlists downloaded. What do you like to listen to?” You asked as you got your mini portable bluetooth speaker out of your bag and turned it on since it was freshly charged before you got your phone to connect with it and brought up the app. 

“Don’t care, listen to whatever you want.” Noah obliged. 

“Ok, everyone’s favorite classics- it is.” You decided before you had the phone shuffle on the playlist. 

“Ooh,” Noah oohed when a very familiar favorite started to play. Ok, you were officially perfect in his book. Perfect music tastes, perfect cooking skills, perfect mother figure to Sakura, perfect...everything. You were generous and charming without being fake or insincere, you were beautiful and confident and independent and loving and supportive and protective and incredibly intelligent and naturally sweet natured but had enough gumption to not put up with bullshit. You weren’t a doormat and he could only admire and adore all of it. You had every reason to feel like the hottest shit ever but you were humble enough to be unassuming and discrete but there wasn’t a part of you he wasn’t impressed with. 

Then the fish started to bite and that’s when the day went from good to great. And what was even better, is because of the cold storage compartment of the plane which was like a walk in freezer/cooler but on an plane with several bins inside to keep things separanted, Noah had the good sense to clean out and line the biggest one with a giant tarp, all you had to do was load the fish into it and they would stay cold until you got home. Very convenient. 

“Could you teach me how to fly fish?” You asked as he seemed to be getting better fish and more of them fly fishing than you did. 

“Of course.” Noah immediately agreed before he had you use his rod and reel and showed you how it was done and you were over the moon when he wrapped himself around you to do it. His hands over yours to show you where to grip the rod and to feel the warmth radiate off of him and even though it was already comfortable weather wise, with him so close you practically melted having him so close, with his front pressed comfortably to your back and his head and over your shoulder. You wanted to lay your head back and rest it against his chest and just to have him hold you. 

Meanwhile Noah felt that this was his opportunity that he had been silently praying for all morning, if he didn’t take the leap now, he was going to regret it. You were here, you were practically in his arms and every instinct was screaming at him to offer himself to you. It was now or never. So it had to be now. 

“I didn’t originally want you to meet my family tomorrow as an advisor. It’s not that I don’t want your help with Sakura and her inheritance, because I do, we need it, desperately. But, I really really like you and I want to court you regardless and I wanted you to meet them as my girlfriend rather than advisor.” Noah finally confessed as he just stared longingly at your hair in a ponytail, appreciating all the hues and strands of color in your hair, fantasizing about how soft it would be through his fingers as not looking at your gorgeous face was somehow easier than if he was looking into the very eyes that tortured him when he wasn’t looking at them or the face that lit up his world. 

“I know you have your life in the Great Lakes and I don’t want you to give that up and I am never going to ask for you to give that up. And I know looking at the way things are now, it doesn’t seem like we have much of a future and I’ve been afraid to ask you cause I don’t know how this could work. But I want to try to work it out anyway.” Noah confessed as you slowly turned around to look at him. Afraid that you were dreaming or had fainted and were hallucinating. 

And you saw hope and fear in his eyes as he bit his lips to force himself not to speak anymore and wait for your answer, it was the same look he had this morning as you felt a little vindication that he did try to ask you this morning but lost his nerve and your heart soared that he obviously felt the same way you did and that it wasn’t all in your head, this was real, he was really asking you out and he really cared for you enough to ask at least as you smiled up adoringly and gratefully at him. 

“Sakura,” you called. 

“Yeah?” She immediately got up and came over. 

“Did you hear your Daddy?” You asked her, just to make sure you didn’t imagine it. 

“Yup, I want you to be my Mama too.” She added brightly and you couldn’t help it, you started crying but your smile was brighter than any star. 

“I want to be your Mama too Sweetie, more than anything.” You reassured her as you turned out of Noah’s frame and hugged her tight. 

“Yes, my answer is a resounding yes.” You finally answered Noah before you pulled him down to your height to kiss him soundly as his arms wrapped tightly around you, the fishing pole long since been put down and practically forgotten as you felt in your soul that this was your last first kiss with him. And boy oh boy was it a good one. Full of love and hope and promise and tasted better than you could have imagined and definitely worth the wait. This wasn’t going to be a passing fling, nope. This was gonna be a forever thing, you could already tell. And you were finally, going to be happy- if only you could make Noah equally happy. 

From there, things fell into place even more, you took tons of pictures of you and Noah together and you caught enough fish to fill that whole freezer compartment and thanks to a little on board galley on the plane, you were able to cook up fish for lunch and dinner and the dogs happily ate fish too and by the time it was evening you found yourself sitting on a huge cushion right on the back hatch with Noah sitting behind you with you cuddled into his lap as Sakura was securely nestled into yours and with the big blankets surrounding the three of you and the dogs cuddling over your legs, you were both comfortable and content and Noah must have kissed your temples and cheeks a thousand times as he sat with you. HIs wistful sigh music to your ears as you were sure your own was to his. Even though the day had spurtterd in the beggining, it sure did end perfectly in your book. 

Only when the sun was finally setting for the final time did you pack it up. Sakura long since fallen asleep in your arms and with Noah’s help you were able to pack her up in her spot before you helped him get everything ready to go before he flew you to his home. 

“So did you want to stay over tonight?” Noah asked hopefully. 

“Oh yeah, if you’re sure you want me there, I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me.” You confirmed. 

“Oh I’m as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” Noah mirrored since his boner seemed to spring to life at the notion. 

“Awesome, I’ll just get the rest of my stuff from Taylor’s house tomorrow, it’s already late but I packed enough that it should get me through the night and into tomorrow, easily. I packed enough clothes just in case I fell into the water, like twice.” You revealed. 

“Are you like, always prepared for everything?” Noah asked, his tone light and almost teasing. 

“Yes. Long before I was a mom, I was the mom friend. There’s very good reasons why my purse never weighs less than like 9 pounds. It’s because I keep everything in there. Coming up here, I packed two of everything just in case one of something got lost. But turns out the gods knew that there would be two families that would be benefiting from my visit and I couldn’t be happier about the second one.” You beamed. 

“Yeah, not to sound weird or anything but since you brought it up, I’ve been praying for the last year and a half for the gods to help me find Sakura a mom and someone who could help us and Sakura has never taken to anyone the way she took to you. And well, I mean I adore you too because if you’ll recall the first time we met, I just stared like an idiot with my jaw on the floor because you are very easily the most beautiful woman I have ever met or known and I was really afraid to say anything after I found out you were an heiress because I didn’t want to make it seem that it was only after I learned that that I was attracted to you. And honestly watching you have a date with Doug was torture for me and I was terrified you were going to fall for…” Noah explained. 

“Oh his “charms”,” You snickered a laugh before you pretended to gag. 

“Ew, no. He was absolutely ridiculous. Sakura told me in the bathroom that night that his boys pushed her down and didn’t apologize and I was ready to rip his head off. And please don’t be freaked out either but when I hugged her for the first time, I instantly loved her, like the same feeling I had when I gave birth to Skylar and Xander and I got to hold them for the first time and you have that ‘there’s my baby, my most precious possession, I’m gonna love you and cherish you forever and i will kill anything that dares brings you harm’ kind of feeling. And hugging you for the first time felt like hugging home, but it just was one that I didn’t know yet so…” You confessed before you heard Noah sniffle. 

“Really?” Noah asked. 

“Is that weird?” You asked with a little bit of a grimace. 

“Nope, I was praying for that, I was praying for the right woman to love Sakura like her own, and well, me for me, flaws and all.” Noah revealed. 

“Well then we are both answered prayers for each other because I was praying for the same thing. Although I’ll warn you, my son Xander will be the hardest to deal with. He’s very practical and rational and unfortunately, very skeptical too. He loves to play chess and cards and do things like negotiate and debate. And he’s way smarter than he should be for his age. He’s the one that likes to have everything figured out and planned before he takes his first step. His room is immaculate and he’s getting into cooking and he actually measures every little thing and me and my ‘eyeball it and measure it with your soul’ kind of thing tend to clash a lot. He will stay up till midnight just doing research for fun. He is very much like his father. He breeds ball pythons for fun and he has all the genetics memorized by heart and he keeps the snake room spotless, all on his own without any nagging or anything like that from me.” You warned. 

“Skylar will be eaiser but she’s very emotional and you just have to be really patient. She’s also either super quiet or super chatty, there is no inbetween. She will talk your ears off. Also she wants to bake cookies and cakes and pies. Every. Single. Day. And nothing has enough sparkles or glitter for her.” 

“We’ll all find a way to get along, it’s gonna be ok.” He reassured you before he kissed the back of your hand sweetly. 

You got back to his home and found a note from his mom. The family would be coming together on Sunday since that’s when most had the day off and that they would be coming to her house for a big family meal and invited you to bring a dish to share if you wanted to. 

“What should I bring?” You asked Noah. 

“Anything you want, but we got all day tomorrow to figure it out. Come on, let’s get her to bed, and us to bed.” He hinted as he took your hand and led you upstairs as Sakura lay knocked out over his shoulder as he carried her into the house and led you upstairs. He had waited all week to have you by his side physically and he didn’t want to waste another minute of your presence and once she was tucked into bed and her door shut he was on you and walking you towards his room. 

And you’d be lying through your teeth if you were to try to deny you weren’t excited about this either. But Noah’s kiss and touch were unlike any other and you were greedily taking everything he could give you and trying to give back in kind and you just needed more...more kisses, more touches, more feel, more contact, more...everything and you don’t know how it happened or exactly when but somehow between him attaching his mouth to yours just outside of Sakura’s room, and him, reaching around you to open his own bedroom door, somehow most of your clothes had come off you as you felt the cool air hit your skin. 

Your bra was unhooked in the back and your pants and underwear were already off and by the time he got you into the room and the door shut and thankfully locked, somehow your shirt and bra now disappeared as did all of his clothes except for his socks which he was trying to toe off just trying to get you to his bed since his weeping cock was pressed between the two of you. 

Taylor had not been exaggerating. Noah was packing. You knew Ice Orcs were as big as orcs came. But damn. Biggest cock you would ever probably get the pleasure of handling and it was all yours, you could barely wrap your hand around your prize and Noah’s moan was equally delicious and Noah practically ripped the blankets off the bed trying to get into it but when you felt his legs hit the mattress, you pushed him back onto it, and sent him landing on his back with his lower legs hanging off the bed, he was surprised but thrilled all the same and when you nuzzled his heavy sack with your nose and then with the tip of your tongue, he was the one left grabbing the sheets in anticipation. 

Neena was ok with receiving oral sex but she hated giving it because she just didn’t like the taste of precum, let alone cum and thought it was gross and always gagged the moment his cock touched the back third of her tongue. So to have you even hint at it was driving him wild and when your tongue licked from the back of his ball sack, through the two balls and to the base then, towards the tip, he was nearly undone. And then to have you kneel between his legs and start sucking him off, his eyes nearly rolled back too far but his answering strangled moan was all you could ever want in response. You knew he didn’t want to wake up his daughter but with just this bit of sucking his body, especially his thighs and stomach was almost shaking and twitching from fluttering so much. It must have been a while for him to receive this kind of pleasure and you were unbelievably pleased that you could give it to him and when you started to gently massage his scrotum and oh so gently scratch at it, he bucked his hips, sending the head of his cock to the back of your mouth before he pulled them back. 

“Sorry.” He tried to apologize. 

“Don’t apologize Baby, it’s ok, did Neena have a strong gag reflex?” You cooed as you detached your mouth from his length so you could talk to him but your hand stroked him lovingly. 

“Uh, yeah,” Noah confirmed. 

“Hmm, well I don’t.” You hinted and that was your only warning before you worked on sucking as much of him into your mouth and throat as you could and he pulled so hard on the sheets, they popped off the corners of the bed and the noise that fell from his throat was the best reaction you had gotten yet. 

“Zara, please, please slow down or stop, I’m, I’m gonna cum. I can’t cum yet, you’re not, I haven’t pleased you yet.” He whimpered which warmed your heart that he was so concerned about your pleasure. 

“Do you only have one round in you?” You posed as you pulled off but nuzzled the cock all the same, giving the blue cock that ended in a pink head some sweet kisses.  

“N-no.” He answered. 

“Then let me give you this one easy, next one you’ll have to try harder to earn it.” You cooed before you went back to it as your hands stroked up his thighs to his abdomen as he reached down and laced his fingers with yours to hold your hands as your head bobbed enthusiastically as his precum coated your mouth. This had to be the most delicious cock too. His precum was comforting and alluring and just a little zesty, like wildberries, more intense flavor but full what your body craved before you brought his hands up to your face so he could stroke your face which he did before his fingers finally settled into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his hips and shoved your hands between his fine ass and the bed and clawed your hands into his ass as Noah keened in bliss and arched his back off the bed as his fingers tangled in your hair before he got two good fistfuls of your hair and pulled your face closer as you did your best to suppress your own gag reflex as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

“Oh gods, oh gods, Zara, Baby, I can’t, I can’t hold on...” he panted desperately as his hips bucked and every other muscle in his body seemed to tense before one last slam and his cock erupted with seed that spilled down your throat as you swallowed around him, your lips suctioning around you just kept swallowing as he whimpered and keened and shuddered his release and he was left a sweaty mess as his body welcomed a few aftershocks as it basked in the afterglow as you made sure you swallowed down every drop of his precious seed before you slowly let it slide out as you pulled away and happily watched as his heavy cock fell to the bed under it’s own weight. 

“Good?” You asked as you climbed up his body, kissing trail up him before you settled onto his chest. 

“The best, I didn’t think...I didn’t know...it could be that good.” Noah praised having a hard time coming back to his senses. While part of him wondered how much experience you had had to get that good, he didn’t care, you were his now. And he was never going to let you go. That was the best blow job of his life, of the millenium. His mind was blown, his body was officially blessed by having you of all people do that to him. 

“Now don’t fall asleep, you have me to please now.” You giggled as you traced a little pattern on his chest as he caught his breath. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he reassured you as he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tight. 

“I love you.” He cooed. 

“I love you too.” You easily mirrored. And it felt like the most natural and easy thing to say. And completely truthful too before he cupped your cheek and pulled you further up to kiss him soundly. 

“I didn’t kiss you Tuesday because that’s what I did with Neena, I kissed you…” He began. 

“I know, same reason I called you Babe on Tuesday, it just felt right.” You reassured him. 

“Exactly.” He grinned appreciatively. 

“Now, my turn to treat you like the goddess you are.” You growled as he playfully nipped at your neck and ear as you giggled gleefully as he rolled you over and it was his turn to kiss you senseless and mark a trail down your luscious and plump body, making sure to worship all of his favorite curves, from your breasts to your belly which he just adored to your hips and his favorite curve, your mound. Perfectly crowned with curls and dripping in anticipation of him and he took a lot of satisfaction in knowing that he was responsible for this as he settled between your legs before he had you set your powerful thighs on his shoulders and delved in. 

Nothing could have prepared himself for this. But you tasted better than anything ever had before. It was sweet and spicy and purely addictive as he delved in and slurped and gave his tongue the work out it had been craving for practically a week as his own hands now cradled your glorious ass to cant your center right where he wanted it and it was your turn to writhe between him and the sheets beneath you. 

Andy, truthfully, was not a good lover. He loved and adored your blow jobs but returning the pleasure, he was hopeless. He didn’t know how to please you, because all of his sex education had come from porn and besides pounding his cock into you, he didn’t know what else to do to please you and never bothered to learn. 

Noah though? Oh bless this man’s heart, body and soul. Because he was eating you out like you were a seven course feast and he had been starving for most of his life and when he added a finger and then two and found that oh so sweet g-spot and worked it like it was his mission in life and he had been put on this planet for the sole purpose of finding it and working it to perfection while his mouth circled around your clit and sucked hard- it was all over, your legs kicked out and your knees tried to snap shut around his head and clamped his ears to his head as your own hips bucked and your own cry of bliss and ecstasy practically bounced off the walls. This was the greatest oral sex you had ever had the pleasure of recieving. It was official, he was a sex god. 

For once you didn’t feel like you were wasting yourself or your gifts on someone. He was deserving, he was worthy. He was amazing and epic and wonderful and you loved and adored him. 

“You still here?” Noah teased as he licked his lips as his self satisfied smile beamed up from between your legs. He still had it and he could give you the best gift possible and there was no one more deserving of that- than you, and he did his best and he was happy that you were well pleased with him and his efforts. 

“Oh my gods, that was, epic, amazing, perfect. Like I’m trying to keep my soul in my body.” You explained with a giggle as he kissed his way back up your body to your mouth before he kissed you soundly as you wrapped yourself around him as you came down from your own afterglow before he slid right in. 

“Oooh, perfect fit.” You purred up at him as he settled into place. You were stretched perfectly but not uncomfortably. Stuffed perfectly full and you melted into the bed when he didn’t pound, but actually stroked himself in and out of you, adjusting the angle of his hips until he found the perfect one for you both and every stroke felt like a blessing he was pouring into your being. 

Then he worked up the tempo and the rhythm. 

“Please, please don’t stop Noah, I’m so close, I’m so so close.” You begged as you felt your peak draw ever closer as Noah’s own body started to tense up as you clung to him and then that’s when he seemed to lose some semblance of control as his hips went from measured to almost a heinous pace as he started breathing even heavier and more labored as his hold on you grew almost desperate and it was enough to send you over the edge into bliss and when you inwardly constricted and fluttered around his length, it undid him and he came falling after you, pumping your canal so full, the seed had nowhere else to go but to seep out where you were joined as you both breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath as you just held each other as you looked up from the bed through the sky light to see the aurora borealis come out and move messmerizingly across the sky. It was so beautiful. And you were so happy and content to share such an intimate moment with Noah. He was such a gem. This perfect jewel of the north who had been waiting for you to come and find him and cherish him and love him. And you would do your best to do so for the rest of your life. 

Once you two fully relaxed you looked around and noticed the bed looked like a hurricane had come through the room. 

“Come on, help me make the bed, then we can sleep.” You gently urged him as he begrudgingly let you go and together you made quick work of putting the sheets back on properly and fixed the many layers of blankets before you quickly went pee in the bathroom and at least picked up all your discarded clothes in the hallway and put them in Noah’s room while he went to the bathroom himself before you met back into the bed and cuddled, looking up at the northern lights before you both drifted off to sleep. 

#Jewel of The North #Jewel of the North Part 5 #orc love story #modern orc love story #ice orcs #jewel orcs #ice orcs belongs to @monstersandmaw #jewel orcs belong to me #I share #Frozen Tundra #aka #Alaska #bush pilots #found family #friends to lovers damn it #orc reader insert #male orc x female reader #male orc x plus size female reader #99 percent of my reader inserts are plus size #enjoy

[vore-scientist]

Demanding

[FLUFFY Safe, soft, willing, GT, non-romantic non-sexual M/f vore, fantasy setting. No additional warnings]

Proper Title Demanding: Yonah in Terra-Syor

Ok a little explanation is needed for this: IT'S NOT PART OF THE NORMAL MYSTIC WOODS. IT'S AN AU+ CROSSOVER SILLINESS

Been talking with @vixen525 (dA, tumblr) and we’ve been talking about fun crossovers with our worlds/characters and this came out of that! 

To set you up: Yonah, for whatever reason it’s not important for this story, got transported to the dimension/world of TerraSyor (which belongs to @vixen525 ), but in the process suffered memory loss (bc I wanted to be cliche as fuck and it makes things so much fun!!!). Giants in TerraSyor are called Syors or Syorians which are two subspecies. Check their dA for more information. They are a LOT larger than Yonah. But anyways. That’s kinda the set up, other things you need to know are explained in the story. 

---

Like last time we find ourselves in the office of the King of the Giants (who is away on a diplomatic mission) on the giant desk which had a smaller human sized desk on the upper right hand corner. Only this time it is night, or rather early evening. Though in this northern region, the sun had gone down over an hour ago; the Chief Political Advisor is sitting at her desk with mage lights hanging around her.

With King Connor away, Naomi tended to bury herself in her work. Because her best friend, the aforementioned King, is not there and while she misses him she has a lot of work to catch up on! King Connor tends to let it pile up. Often by keeping her from being able to do it thanks to his favorite way to enjoy her company. So while she missed her friend, she was not about to let this opportunity go to waste!

She would stay up for days to finish the paperwork! She had done so before even against the orders of the castle’s human physician for her to maintain a proper sleep schedule. As if she could sleep without Connor! And she was reluctant to ask one of the castle staff for assistance. Once or twice she’d gone to Lana, but the former Queen and interim King wasn’t someone Naomi liked to bother much even if she was available. Always more than happy to help, extremely sweet, but a little overbearing.

Thankfully her new guard was there to get her proper rest every night! Well. He tried. One all nighter he was willing to allow; he would force her to sleep should she try two in a row.

Tonight was such a night, however it would prove to be much more interesting.

Grunting as he glanced at his pocket watch tick into later evening he stood up and feeling a bit playful he reduced himself from 23.5ft to 7.5ft tall. Even at his full size he was more than small enough to sit comfortably on Connor's desk. Naomi didn’t notice him walking up until he was pulling the politician from her chair. She protested and held onto the desk and Yonah pretended to let her be strong enough to hold herself there.

“No! I need to finish reviewing this trade negotiation!” she sounded serious but there was a hint of playfulness.

“You can review it in the morning, you were up all last night! I know you miss Connor, that’s why I’m here!”

“I’m your boss, you’re paid to protect me!”

“I’m not technically paid and apparently I need to protect you from yourself. Also I need to sleep too! How can I protect you if I’m exhausted” He had tried to sleep last night, Naomi in his arms, powered by caffeine and hyper fixation, and armed with her portable desk, she did not waiver.

And he did manage to nap a few times. Not for more than an hour total. He was disinclined to sleep while she worked for several reasons. Mostly her safety even if this was the most secure room in the palace. Assassins had still gotten in before! And because once he woke up buried in paper. He was sure he’d inhaled a page at some point. Such suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Naomi got mad at him for it. And for his snoring.

So no more sleeping on the job!

Finally Yonah yanked her away from her desk, and ripped the paper from her hand. “I’ll give you one chance to change into PJs or you’re going down as is!” He grinned.

She had not changed clothes in almost 36 hours… she sighed and agreed. Plus she needed a shower, even if it would be made pointless soon after. Very soon in fact, as they both put on PJs after drying off but before heading to Connor’s bedroom, which they both lived in. No this is not weird.

Now, with both in their PJs, and teeth brushed, it was time! Yonah had returned to his normal size a while ago and he picked up the human and locked her dark and sleep deprived eyes onto his own. Before he lowered her from eye level and shoved her into his mouth.

Now, Naomi was never enthusiastic to be eaten, at least, not by Yonah. Not by anyone but Connor really. It kinda sucked, a lot. Being swallowed was the worst part. Yonah, being almost five times shorter than Connor, could barely fit a human torso in his mouth and Naomi’s sides sometimes got bruised against his teeth, and even though it was a short trip down it always felt like she might be squeezed to death. But that wasn’t why she was so unhappy.

Yonah noticed her hesitation but didn’t say anything as he swallowed her down as quickly as he could, and then promptly made his way to Connor’s chambers. Maybe the motion of his gate would lull his passenger. It was a fair distance even for Yonah, at 23.5ft, navigating a Castle meant for much larger giants. But the wash chamber was nearby to make it more convenient for Naomi. Soon he was in the bedroom and making his way to his own bed that was tucked into a corner of the room. It was a four poster with a canopy, and curtains, which gave it a feel of a box or a container, or cage… which wasn’t a bad thing, in fact it kinda felt familiar but he was sure he’d never been caged in such a way.

Yet sleep did not come. Specifically Naomi couldn’t sleep. As he climbed into his bed he felt Naomi shift. So much so it was clear she hadn’t woken due to his movements. Normally such little hints of struggle lulled him, but he could sense her restlessness and with him being in charge of her wellbeing, his worry chased away any lulling effect.

“Something wrong Naomi?” He sat at the side of his bed, feet on the ground, and pressed a hand to his belly, pleasantly full with the small human woman. She didn’t seem to appreciate this.

“It’s nothing!” She kicked, knowing it didn’t hurt him but he still grunted for her edification.

“That’s a lie, you need to tell me,” he rubbed at her.

He heard her sniff.

“This is. So different from when Connor eats me… it’s so confining!!” though her tone carried an air of falsehood.

“Do… you want me to spit you up? Will you sleep if I hold you in my arms?” Yonah knew full well that Naomi was from a tropical kingdom, used to warm humid nights, and was so accustomed to sleeping in Connor’s stomach that the cool dry air of the giant’s castle made it hard for her to fall asleep.

“I just miss Connor!” She finally wailed softly. Oh. This wasn’t a problem he could fix, and he was about to suggest he cast a reversal of his reduction so that he was closer to Connor’s size, if only briefly. But The problem wasn’t his size, the problem was he wasn’t Connor, so it was unlikely to help.

Yonah still held his stomach, he could feel her shaking as she cried under his hand. There wasn’t anything he could do.

Then his keen ears picked up a new sound and he stiffened. Naomi was too preoccupied to notice at first. Until he poked at his stomach, and with that poke was able to convey an air of novel concern.

“Wha-”

“I hear something-”

“Surely not an assassin, Connor’s not even-”

Shhhh - he pressed his hand forcefully down, feeling her squish in frustration. The sound was distant and small, he needed her to be silent. As emotional Naomi was, she knew that this took precedence. In fact she was a bit worried. What if it was a an assassin, or a slayer! Technically any slayer after Connor is also an assassin given his status as King.

“Yonah if you eat an assassin without spitting me up-”

“The fuck!? That’s horrid, and please, quiet-” he said at a whisper. It was probably the lack of sleep combined with missing Connor that had her so delirious that she even thought he would make her sit in his stomach if he caught someone. Now that he was thinking about it too and it made him a bit sick to his stomach. But he forced such images away to focus on the sound.

“Oh!” he said as he realized what it was. It wasn’t one he heard very often. “That’s the human door!”

Naomi sat up, curious but not without some concern. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure, and it sounds a bit frantic”

“I doubt it’s trouble... “

They sat there for another minute.

“Still knocking” Yonah reported.

Naomi shifted like she was thinking. Then Yonah heard the door unlock, open, and then the quick steps of bare feet across the stone floor, headed right for him! Him and Naomi! Quickly he put on his glasses, withdrew the curtains, and peered into the darkness.

The figure passed through a section of the floor that had a spot of moonlight shining down from a window and Yonah startled but chuckled as he saw the plump female form.

“It’s Dani!” he said.

He thought that would make Naomi relax but the way she flopped over she wasn’t relieved as much as suspicious.

And her suspicions were confirmed when Dani climbed right into the bed and dropped what a moment ago had been a human sized book, now the correct size for him, into his lap with a THUP. Yonah anticipated the next sentences out of her mouth as, hands on her hips, she glared at him with fierce confidence.

“Eat me! Read to me!”

Yonah was acutely aware that his hand was STILL over his stomach, and Naomi had gone still, but he wasn’t worried about that. While he loathed to turn Dani down, his stomach was already occupied. This wasn’t really up to him.

Having also gotten little sleep his first emotion was annoyance, then anger. But no. He wouldn't lash out. Instead hesmiled kindly down at Dani, scooping her up in his free hand and kissing her chubby cheek, stroking the back of her head. Then he rubbed at his stomach and looked down, Dani looking as well.

“Only if Naomi says it’s ok”

Even in the dark He could see Dani’s face get red.

“I- didn’t realize-” she flicked her eyes back to Yonah’s which in the darkness glowed softly. “I’m having trouble sleeping, so I thought- even if you don't eat me…”

Naomi sighed with her entire body. Seemed like Yonah’s services were in high demand tonight. Still. The idea of Yonah eating Dani along with her… The chamber that was his stomach was so small that Naomi filled up most of the space already. Yonah said he could do it, eat more than one person, but was now the time for him to prove it? As a test she stretched out the space a bit. With her massaging it graciously gave way, not as much as she would have liked, but better than nothing. Another sigh, and then she deflated.

“Misery loves company, she can’t make it worse!”

Yonah grimaced, he wasn’t so sure about that. But then looked back at Dani who was snuggling into his arm, smiling softly. She hadn’t heard Naomi’s reply. Though now with Naomi’s permission, Yonah couldn’t see himself not eating Dani. One person in his belly was pretty great. But two? Wonderful. Delightful. The ideal amount of stuffed for a perfect and well deserved night’s rest. So he jostled his arm and Dani looked up at him.

“Naomi said it was alright” he kissed her cheek again, this time sticking out the tip of his tongue to get a brief taste, for soon he would get the full experience.

Dani’s eyes lit up, “Really! Then what are you waiting for?”

The light chuckle that came from Yonah shook Naomi who couldn’t help but giggle as Yonah said “Nothing, I’m just not feeling rude enough tonight to not warn Naomi that she’s about to have company.” He pressed fingers into his stomach to make sure she was listening. Since she could hear him speak, his statement to Dani was all the warning she needed.

He held Dani up to his mouth and opened his jaws wide, placing his tongue over his teeth so she could crawl in. There was more flavor on Dani tonight, she must have used some new bath salts. Yonah had recently caught onto Dani’s attempts to find a combination of salts that would be nearly irresistible to him, but since the magic flavors of the salts were designed for Syorians, there hadn’t been much success. He still held her in his mouth for longer than he had done Naomi, enjoying the new and interesting flavor that complimented her natural one.

There wasn't much space with her halfway in his mouth but he could still move his tongue enough to make Dani squirm a bit, laugh a bit. Until he tipped his head back, and he pushed her in a little further as gravity helped slide her to his throat and he took a swallow. While he liked to take his time with this too, as the stretching was painful but in a good way, his airway was completely cut off, he had to continue to swallow. Slowly but steadily. Naomi was also scrambling a bit, probably to make room. That felt nice. When he took a deep breath as her body slipped past his collar and allowed him to breath he could feel the pressure in his chest.

“Hey!” he heard Dani yelp and his own breath caught! As he felt something he hadn’t in a while.

Her hands had only left the esophagus, her head not even breaching into the chamber, when strong hands took her wrists and pulled her in. While their safety charms produced light, they had both set them to be dim in anticipation of sleeping, but not pitch black just yet, they needed to get settled in some semblance of comfort in the confined space.

“Hi Naomi!” Dani said as she tried to get off of the woman of much higher authority. That mostly failed but at least she wasn’t on top of Naomi anymore. More laying across.

This wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but it had only been a once or twice before. So adjusting to being so squished wasn’t very quick. They had to move around a lot to experiment with different positions. Yonah hummed small vibrations as they made their various attempts, and his constant poking and pressing at them did not help, but neither did they tell him to stop.

Oh it was a great day, or night, when he got to eat two people! And two of his favorite people in this world. Friends always tasted better. And every shove was a small burst of joy for him as he sat, completely content.

Finally the movement stopped but yonah didn’t notice until one of them, probably Dani, did her best to kick his insides.

“The book, Yonah? You’re not getting this full belly for free you know!” that was Dani, and Naomi laughed.

“Naomi needs to sleep, Dani!”

He felt the women shift a bit and had a hushed discussion that he couldn’t hear well enough.

“I’ll fall asleep faster if you read! Your voice is very soothing.” That statement was accompanied by stroking against his insides.

Placing all of his pillows behind him so he was sitting up for maximum comfort, he picked up the book. There was a bookmark in it but disregarded it. This was Warrior Mages: Into the Feywild, the first story from a series he’d not read before. Of course being from another world (not to mention his loss of memory from the interdimensional travel), he hadn’t read most book series. This one in particular he’d wanted to read, on Dani’s recommendation. Sneaky little human!

The effect wasn’t immediate but it was much quicker than he’d have bet on, as he could soon hear light snores coming from his midsection. He’d barely made it a second chapter in, and while he’d been hooked he was also on the verge of passing out. Keeping his voice low he told Dani this, laying a hand lightly over his stomach. She only responded with some strokes from the other side of his flesh. Still awake but not about to insist he keep reading.

Very carefully and very slowly he adjusted his position and pillows so that he was laying down. The weight of the humans settling in his gut, he kept his hand over the spot, using his other to pull up a thin blanket.

Apparently the night's adventures were not over however, as only 2 hours later the door burst open with the King’s early, loud, dead of night return. Yonah thanked the gods the didn’t think to shout for his friend. But the crash of the door and the approaching thunderous footsteps were just as infuriating.

Taking note that Naomi was not as her desk, Connor made a beeline for the small bed in the corner, dropped to his knees, leaned down, and drew the curtains without warning, though he was met with the angry, tired gaze of his little, doll sized guard who was sitting up, clearly stuffed with the king’s favorite treat. A little too stuffed if Connor was inclined to notice, but he was not. Yonah’s mane of jet black curly hair was also in the most amusing state, which Connor did notice but didn’t care about.

His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and he had a massive fanged grin on his face like a child looking at both a pet rabbit and a piece of chocolate cake.

“Spit her up!” he said without any more pretense. His voice devoid of consideration for the time of night.

Yonah put his hands defensively over his stomach, “Welcome back, Your Majesty.” The two humans in his belly waking up slower than he, but upon Yonah’s words Naomi called out as well.

“Connor’s back! Let me out!!”

The pointed ears of the king flicked to catch the voice of his friend and favorite snack.

Normally he’d obey a direct order from The King. Without question he would follow identical orders from the King and his second in command. But he was sleep deprived, no mood to deal with a demanding royal, and more so no mood to give up his treats! So delightfully full. He deserved this. The King could fucking wait.

“No.” he growled, making his eyes glow.

Connor blinked in surprise. A bit confused and taken aback at this blatant disrespect for his authority.

“What do you mean, no?” He narrowed his eyes surely his guard wasn’t disobeying him!

“What do you mean, no!!” Naomi’s voice rang out. Dani stayed silent, not really her place to intervene.

Connor’s ears flicked back and forth, switching between showing frustration and staying locked on Naomi’s voice.

“Yonah if you dont spit her up, I’ll-”

Yonah glared “Do what!? Fire me? Punish me? If you do, I hope you Have fun finding another guard, You had such great luck before.”

Connor’s hand had started to reach for him but stopped at Yonah’s threat. He knew Yonah wouldn’t really quit. But he finally noticed the bags under yonah’s eyes as the fire and sleep deprived fueled angry otherworldly half-giant continued to glare at him. Then pulled the curtains closed before the king could respond. The bed chamber was brightly lit now but the curtains, though translucent, were designed to keep most light out.

A smile crept onto Yonah’s face as he heard Connor continue to grumble yet stood up and walked away. He lay back down and fell asleep quickly as Naomi continued to complain while Dani regretted her choice of bed for the night.

[FIN]

if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #g/t vore #nonfatal vore

[duker42]

Levi and his s/o get into a bad fight right before an expedition, saying hurtful things like I wish I never met you or things like that. During the expedition Levi got slammed into a tree and back home he was stuck in the infirmary for a while. When he woke up, he had amnesia and didnt remember anything. Reader tried to jog back his memories but she was like a stranger to him. It hurt her a lot being in the same room as him and leaving on such a bad note before the expedition. She decided-

💜Losing Him💜

The words they said to each other before leaving rang in her head as she watched the wagon as it raced back towards the wall. The slamming door as she heard him shout that he was done echoed in her mind.

They were always tense before an expedition. But this time it had boiled over, turned on themselves as they both worried about the outcome. She hadn’t meant to say she wished she never met him, saw the hurt flash in his eyes before he shuttered them. His voice had taken on a scathing tone, reserved for those he loathed.

She had spent that night somewhere else, not coming back to their rooms. He had ignored her that morning, preparing his squad and his horse without sparing her a glance. He hadn’t even looked at her as the gates opened and they took off out into the world that belonged to the Titans.

The expedition had gone sideways, like it always did. But this time, their strongest soldier, Captain Levi had been thrown against a tree and was currently unconscious in that wagon. His squad had saved him, Y/N’s eyes widening in terror as she saw his limp form being dragged back to the medical wagons by Eld and Gunther.

She had stayed next to wagon the entire way back, guarding her lover as he looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. But she knew better. Levi didn’t sleep often, and he never looked that relaxed.

They made it back to the walls, the Captain transported to the infirmary until he woke up and could be examined.

~~~~~

He looked at her blankly. She felt her heart fall to the floor. He had asked her name, like they hadn’t lived together for the last two years. Like he hadn’t known her since he had been brought up from the Underground.

Y/N had smiled sadly, and told him her name. Tried to remind him who she was to him. He had scoffed and said that he would remember being in a relationship. That was the day her heart had completely shattered.

She tried, By the Walls did she try to jog his memory. Nothing had worked. Bringing him his favorite tea had just been acknowledged with a nod. Trying to brush his hair back from his eyes had almost gotten her wrist broken. He didn’t like being touched, the same way he was before they had started. It was like the last years had been wiped away, his life above ground completely foreign to him.

She couldn’t be in the room with him anymore. Not stand there and pretend they were strangers. Like they hadn’t bared their souls to one another. She blamed herself. It was her punishment for arguing with him the night before. For not making things right between them. They knew that every expedition could result in their deaths, but she had stubbornly refused to swallow her pride and apologize. And now the love of her life was as good as dead to her.

She couldn’t stay in the Survey Corps anymore.

~~~~~

Erwin looked up from the paper in front of him, surprise in his eyes. “Y/N.....are you sure this is what you want? It’s only been a month, Levi could-“

“I’m sure, Commander.” Y/N cut him off, not wanting to hear the false hope that she had been fed over and over again.

“I see.”

He sighed as he signed his name to it, telling her he thought she was wrong. His name and seal a fixed to the documents that would release her from service, making her a civilian again, he handed them back to her.

“Good luck, Y/N.”

She didn’t answer as she snapped to attention and saluted her Commander for the last time. She couldn’t because the urge to cry had robbed her of the ability to speak. She turned and walked out of his office for the last time.

~~~~~

Y/N looked around the little house she now called home. So many things were different about this life than her life in the Survey Corps.

She smiled as she looked at the cleaning bucket that was sitting on the floor. After years of living with Levi, old habits die hard. She had scrubbed for three days straight before it would be clean enough for his standards, and therefore her own.

She tried not to think about him everyday. Tried to cry a little less every time she woke up and he wasn’t beside her, or outside the door at his desk. She had spent the past three months trying to forget the fact that she was still in love with him.

Sighing, she bent down to pick up the bucket and clean up from cleaning. She had to get to work soon. The pub where she worked would be opening soon.

~~~~~

“Where in the fuck have you been?”

The low angry growl made her freeze. That voice was one she knew so well. She turned from where she was pouring a pint of beer to see the dangerously narrowed eyes of her former lover.

“Good evening Captain, get you a drink?” Y/N was surprised she could sound so nonchalant. She didn’t feel like it, not at all.

Levi’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing again, his mouth set in a frown. “I don’t want a fucking drink, I want to know where the hell you have been.”

“Right here, since I got out of the Scouts.” Y/N said, walking down to hand the pint to the waiting customer. She wished anyone else were there, but unfortunately everyone else had already been served and it was relatively quiet.

She reluctantly walked back to where the Captain was stand, his demand for answers still clear in his eyes.

“You left me.” His voice was low, unguarded as he broke eye contact, looking down. “Why?”

Y/N jerked her head and walked into the back room for a bit of privacy. It was a small room, filled with extra kegs and shelves of supplies. He shuffled into the space behind her, his body blocking her only exit.

She looked down at a barrel of ale on the floor as she answered. Her explanation was long winded and rambling, including all of the random thoughts she had while she was making her decision to leave.

“We fought so badly the night before. Maybe.....maybe it’s best that we just keep things the way they are now. It’s been four months, and you only just now remembered that I existed.” She finished, trying to keep her composure.

“No. Get your shit, Y/N. You’re coming back.” His tone was sharp and biting. Her head whipped up to look at him.

Those grey eyes softened as he stepped closer, pushing her closer to the edge of racks where the extra liquor was stored. His gaze darting down to her lips before coming back up to meet her eyes.

“I don’t give a shit if we argue everyday. I NEED you to come back. I hated when I suddenly remembered you and couldn’t find you on the base. Erwin told me you left, where you went.” He reached up to cup her cheek. “You are the love of my life and I want you to come home with me.” Levi whispered, his tone serious.

“Y/N....please.”

She closed her eyes, trying to figure out what was best. She had hurt so much, never wanting to feel that desperation again. She heard him shift, her lips covered by a warm and gentle kiss.

Every nerve in her body was set on fire by that simple kiss, the warmth spreading through her as she was enveloped in his scent. Her hands went up to his chest, intending to push him away, instead fisting into the pressed material and pulling him closer to her.

They stood, locked together for a long moment before breaking apart. She saw the relief in eyes, felt the shuddering heave of his chest under her fingers. She knew that she couldn’t stay away from Levi. She belonged with him. No matter where the journey would take them. She had giving up, accepted losing him, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I’ll come home, Levi.”

Mobile MasterList

#levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #attack on titan #levi heichou #shingeki no kyojin #captain levi x reader #levi x reader #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #aot x reader

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - See the light (6)

Next part, here it goes! I’m a bit sad because it’s not getting much notes, even though it’s one of the works I’m most proud of... Anyway, I’ll keep uploading, don’t worry!

Plot: Peter is showing you who he really is inside, but there is someone - or two - who doesn’t like that.

Small sneak peek

First part

Second part

Third part

Fourth part

Fifth part 

Peter had had to leave halfway through a story about Tony Stark, his wonderful mentor, where they had built a small figure that helped them in the shop; Jarvis, they called him. He had smiled all through the story, his eyes shining with pride as he moved his arms around trying to explain you why the figure was a he, not a it. Finally, after almost freezing to death, he had realized it was too cold, so he went to look for more wood. It had been a little awkward, since you had become tangled with your hair and limbs, and he had fallen on top of you two times; but after blushing and stuttering, the boy had left.

You kept staring his way until he disappeared, a silly smile on your face. That night, you discovered a new Peter, someone sweet and caring, that had been hurt too many times. You were so busy looking at him that you didn’t notice the presence behind you.

“Thank god!” a new voice suddenly announced behind you, shocking you. “I thought he’d never leave. What was that? A parrot of a boy?”

Turning around, you were met with your mother, who was standing in the darkness. The firelight barely illuminated her face, but you could see the malice in her eyes as she looked towards where Peter had left. In the tree line, she stood tall like a creature you would be warned away from. Pascal, who had been resting peacefully against the log, hid between some bushes.

“Mother” you sighed, not feeling happy about her being there.

“Treasure” she rushed forwards, taking you in her arms. She forced you up and hugged you tight, with a bruising force. You winced when her grip became just too tight, but she didn’t let go. “My lovely, precious treasure. I thought you had been stolen from me!”

“How – how did you find me?”

“Oh, it was easy, really” she said, sarcasm on her voice. “I just listened to the sound of complete and utter betrayal and followed that”

You swallowed and frowned. You had seen her many times angry, so many times that you knew that was fake.

“Mother, I – “

She pulled away as soon as she had hugged you, hard face. You took a second to look at the clothes she was wearing; long cape, winter dress and a bag big enough to carry food for a month; and a dagger. You gaped at seeing that, because there was no way that was only for a few days. Your mother had been following you for a while, yet you didn’t have time to ask her as she gripped your wrist.

“Come on, we’re going home” she ordered. With a strong yank, she was pulling you onto unsteady feet and dragging you toward the treeline.

As the world became darker and got farther from the fire, you started to whine. Part of you wanted to call out for Peter, but the other part wanted to prove your mother that you were mature enough to handle that. Life out of the tower had proven to be funny, and had made you smile more times than you had done in your whole life; you certainly didn’t want to go back.

“I don’t – mother, I’m happy now!” you gripped her wrist with your hands. “I’ve seen so many things, and I’ve learnt… a lot and, uh – I think… mother, I’ve met someone”

“Yes, treasure, I understand” she whispered, cupping your cheek. “You’ve met a thief, a low life, someone who has no manners – how proud I am, Y/N!”

It made you frown the way she talked about Peter. Not once in your life you had thought different from your mother, and you had always understood that what she did was for your own good; but the small remark about the boy didn’t hit you well, and you finally broke the grip your mother had on you.

Cradling the hand to your chest, you glared at her; and she gasped, surprised.

“No, mother. He’s not like that! I think…. I think he likes me” you looked down, blushing.

“What?” she let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back. “What? Do you think he likes you? The freak with the long hair? Don’t be silly, Y/N. He can’t like you, have you seen yourself? Just… listen to me, treasure, mother knows be –“

“No”

“No?”

You looked back to the camp, and saw Peter’s tunic resting on the log. It was still wet from the water, but he had insisted in using it to sit on, instead of the cold wood. Going back to your mother no longer meant only giving up your dream, but leaving behind the best person you had ever met behind. So you shook your head confidently.

Your mother’s locks bounced up and down when she stepped back, as if she had been stabbed. Quickly, she ran forwards and took a grip on your hair, so hard that tears rushed to your hears. Her eyes, burning with rage and hate, made you want to scream for Peter; but it was gone as soon as it had come.

“I see” she nodded, and searched for something in her bag. “He doesn’t want anything more than this. Give it to him, and he’ll be gone”

The crown hit the ground with a metal sound, yet it didn’t break. It broke out from the bag, and its gems shone with the fire behind you. You bent down to pick it, and looked at it. It wasn’t that beautiful once the daylight was gone, but still you felt yourself being drawn towards it.

“You’re wrong” you muttered, your fingers turning white around the object. “I trust him”

“Give him the satchel, and watch how fast he runs” your mother leaned close before talking again. “And if I’m right, don’t come back crying. Remember, Y/N, I know best.”

The last thing you saw of your mother was her stone-cold eyes, boring into your brain with hate, before she turned and put the hood back. To the rest of the world, the leaves moving and a shadow being reflected on one tree were the only proofs that your mother had shattered that night your heart.

You stood there, staring at the spot where she had disappeared until you heard more footsteps under the leaves. You turned around, eyes instantly looking for the pan that was resting against one tree. The vision was cloudy, since you had wet eyes, but you managed to do fine when you heard Peter’s voice.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked. When you noticed you couldn’t see him yet, you quickly hid the object in your bag. “Would there be, uh, any possibly for my hand to be super strong? Like full of webs, or something?”

“Webs?” you chuckled weakly. Peter appeared with his hands full of logs, muscles flexing under his white shirt. He had beams of sweat running down his forehead, but he looked adorable.

“Yeah!” he smiled. “Traveling through the forest would be much more easier if I could just swing around. That would awesome! Can you – Y/N?”

You plastered a fake smile on your face, your eyes squinting too hard to stop the tears from falling, and the weight of your bag too heavy. You shifted from one foot to another, trying to not seem sad.

“Y-yeah. I’m, um, I’m sorry. Just... thinking“ you tucked your hair behind your ear, clapping your hand on your front.

Peter was silent for a minute, probably not fully believing you. There was no way he could have heard the conversation with your mother, you really hoped so, yet he seemed suspicious. His brown eyes ran over your body carefully, not in the way some of those men in the cavern had done. He looked to every corner, to the tips of your hands and the toes of your feet, looking for injuries, you guessed. After a while he seemed satisfied, so he let the logs fall and kept talking about he benefits of having spider-powers.

Without him noticing, you looked back to the tree. Behind it, stood hidden your bag, with the crown Peter so badly wanted. You didn’t want to think about it, so you sat back and smiled at the boy.

Even if you weren’t wearing it, as the hours passed, the bag became heavier.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter woke up to the feeling of water being dripped onto his nose; and for a moment, he was transported back to his old house, where the leaks on the ceiling were a common occurrence. He had one on top of his bed, and sometimes, during the night, it reopened itself; so Peter woke up to a wet bed. He scrunched his nose and rubbed it, turning into his side and mumbling to let him sleep.

Maybe he could still scratch some minutes from May, or from Ben, whoever was trying to wake him up. When the water didn’t stop, he opened one eye and yawned, interrupting the whine he was going to emit. But there was no angry aunt or uncle, neither a persistent leak on the ceiling. He was laying the grass, with his bag as a pillow, and a very angry horse in front of him.

Not fully registering what was going one, Peter blinked slowly.

“Oh, hey. I hope you’re here to apologize” he said, before another yawn interrupted him.

The horse huffed and snapped it’s perfect teeth. Peter just closed his eyes back, wondering how much damage a horse could really do; but then, the animal craned its neck and bit down on his ankle.

Peter shouted in surprise, and the horse started to pull him back towards the water. He had no idea what it’s intention was with him once he got him into the lake, but he didn’t allow too much thought on the matter.

Instead, Peter clawed at the ground frantically, rooting his fingers into the soil and engaging in a game of tug of war between him and the horse. The animal had his boot clamped firmly between its teeth; and Peter just screamed louder, higher and more.

“No, no, no!” Peter panicked as the horse kept tugging. “Let go! God, let go!”

Suddenly, another pair of hands were on him, and you were tugging to the other side. You wrapped your hands around his wrist and tugged forward; so hard, that Peter found himself not touching the ground, just being stretched on the air.

“Give – give him back” you grumbled, clearly loosing. You were being dragged with your unmoving feet towards the lake.

Peter was launched forwards when the horse tugged harder, and only got the boot between his teeth. The boy fell on top of you, with the bad luck that one of his hands, in an effort of not crushing you completely, fell on your chest. His fingers curled around what he thought was land; and when he finally realised it wasn’t by your wide eyes and red cheeks, he quickly retracted his hand. Ending into him chin-butting you on the cheek.

After the mess of limbs got solved, with an embarrassingly amount of time, the horse was back on his balance and ready to strike back. You got between the horse and Peter, even when the animal got closer.

“Hey – hey – hey! Calm down, come one… calm down!”

The horse kept the game for a little longer, until it fixed its eyes on you, and on the chameleon on the top of your head that moved his little paws slow. It seemed confused for a second, until it calmed down. The boot was on its mouth.

“That’s it” you smiled slowly. “Now, why don’t you sit?”

First, it lowered its butt to the ground, yet didn’t touch it. With a stern look from you and from Pascal, the horse sat down with an annoyed huff.

“Good, now let go of the boot” the horse didn’t do so, so you repeated yourself. “Let the boot down”

Physically, Peter knew the horse couldn’t roll its eyes; but he watched from the corner of the tree, where he was shamefully hiding, how the horse rolled its eyes and let the boot down. You smiled brightly, not noticing Peter babbling incoherent things in the background, and quickly pet the horse.

You scratched behind its ear, and the horse purred.

“That’s it, you’re a very good horse!” you giggled, and the horse moved its tail. “You’re tired from chasing this bad boy around everywhere, aren’t you?”

“E-excuse me!” Peter tried to protest from behind you, still not believing his eyes.

“Poor thing, no one values you, right?”

“Come on, are you serious? He’s the bad horse!” Peter snapped. A glare from the horse stopped him from talking more.

With your praises and petting, soon the horse was rubbing its head against your shoulder, emitting happy noises as you scratched his back. You discovered its name was Maximus, and from Peter’s short explanation, that it was the captain of the guard’s horse. Peter was still dumbfounded by the fact that Maximus was understanding what you were saying; then again, he was traveling with a girl with magic hair and a chameleon as a pet.

And a wonderful, soft voice that had made him walk closer until he was right besides you, worries gone.

“Look, today is like… the most important day of my life? And I really need you not to arrest him” you grabbed Peter by the arm, and pulled him closer. “Only 24 hours? Then, you can keep chasing each other again!”

Peter blinked, swallowing down a laugh. He was making deals with a horse, who hated him because of its owner. It was tense for a while, until you muttered that it was your birthday and the horse fucking raised its leg. Not knowing really well what to do, he gripped It and shook it lightly.

He didn’t have to do much more or to think about what you had done because you tackled him into a hug. Your feet lifted from the ground and he had to catch you in order not to bump on the horse. Peter was hit instantly with your sweet smell, and he relaxed, smiling. The boy pressed you close to him, trying to remember the last time someone hug him; even if they did, the hug was different, and he was enjoying every second.

When you teared away, your faces were inches apart. He shifted his eyes between your lips, parted, and your eyes, bright. Some bells were sounding in the background, but neither of you moved your arms. Slowly, your faces inched closer, and just when Peter was going to close his eyes and probably do what he had been wanting to since he woke up in that tight closet, he was met with a very sharp tongue on his hear.

“Damnit!” Peter shirked back, body curling around his ear as a sneaky chameleon fell to the ground, proud smirk on his face.

Peter rubbed his ear, glaring at Pascal. He looked up to talk to you, maybe to say you that he was sorry or that he wanted to try that again but with a different ending. However, your attention wasn’t with him anymore, rather on the city that came to life behind the hill.

You had made it to the kingdom.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

@aikaterrina

Peter Parker Tangled

@ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark

@tomsirishgirl

@imjuliabtw

@missmulti

@cazslaughter

@fckingchile

@used-avocado

@willpoch12​

@kassedillaa

@whorrorbean​

@the-iridescent-phoenix​

@juliebean247​

@farfromjustordinary​

@redheaded-hobbit​

@fangirling12566​

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker disney au #peter parker au #peter parker tangled au #peter parker tangled #see the light #i see the light #tangled #tangled au #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman one shot #spiderman disney au #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers one shot #avengers disney au #avengers x reader #avengers tangled au #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland tangled au #tom holland disney au