#this is directed to everyone who left before final bow

[justalitlecreacher]

Theater etiquette is in fucking shambles

#this is directed to the parents of the boy behind me #who did not once tell him to stop talking though the whole show #this is directed to the girl sat next to me #who kept quietly singing just loud enough to be obnoxious #this is directed to everyone who left before final bow #for context I saw Wicked live and it was incredible

[diorchids]

ALL YOUR INNOCENCE, CORIOLANUS SNOW.

cw: reader is a virg, PRAISE, taking virg, peacekeeper!snow, p in v

nsfw ahead !

coriolanus hated the hob. unless you were there. the drunkard's smell filled the place up while coriolanus and sejanus bantered over small things. peacekeepers get a few nights off, they have to make it last.

his favorite part was you. you’d be with all of your friends, bow in your hair swaying every which way when everyone was boot stompin’, this was the ideal night for you. different men trying to feel you up or talk to you made you even less engaged in the show and more so in the drinks.

you’d scrapped up your last bit of change for your drink, but it still wasn’t enough. “still not enough, sorry,” the bartender offered a pity smile before shuffling away to serve other patrons.

coriolanus had been watching you, your pretty face being the only thing left to entertain him on those cold, uneventful nights. 

you were surprised, to say the least when he walked to the bar and put a few dollars on the counter for the tender to see, “that should cover it.” his tall frame behind you, practically towering over you. 

the bartender hands you your drink before you look up at coriolanus, “thank you, sir.” and he shudders at the sudden eye contact. “my pleasure, ‘s on the house.” a quick smile creeps onto his face. you waltz back over to your friends, drink in hand. 

he stares across the crowd just to see you. this was your first time seeing him outside of his full peacekeeper attire, but he had seen you multiple times. on reaping day, outside of the hob, at the hanging tree. the way tears rolled down your face each time the criminals were strung up made him realize just how innocent you are.

you shuffle away to a room toward the back of the hob, trying to find a friend who had wandered off. he follows narrowly behind you like you’re his prey, like his princess. you notice him behind you, startled by his presence. “s’ just me. you’re good, princess.” he examines you, so small under him.

“ – thank you, again. i can get the money back, sir.” you furrow your brows, feeling scrutinized, “promise.” 

his lips curve softly into a closed-mouth smile, “my pleasure, princess.” his eyes move all over your small frame. your fingers fiddle with the end of your dress, your lower thigh being put on display for him as you look up. he can’t help but wonder how innocent you are, how much he just wanted to protect you. 

your pouty lips only add to his need for you, his need to treat you like his princess. you guys can’t help but just stare at each other, his eyes piercing straight into you. 

he snaps out of his trance, eyes finally moving away from you. he gives a courtesy smile before pivoting right back to the crowd's direction. “gotta get back, princess, hm?” he says while walking back into the common, crowded area. 

you practically forget about the encounter half an hour later, but coriolanus still eyes you from his seat next to sejanus. “ – desperate,” sejanus says, swishing his drink around in his cup. “you’re desperate.” 

the crowd is still compact, you move through safely aside from unwanted touches everywhere and catcalls. you stumble before bumping into coriolanus, “watch where you’re goin’, could hurt yourself, princess.” he coos into your ear, leaning down to reach your ear. 

you look up at him before touching his shoulder, eye contact strong. “sorry.” your fingers touching his wrist before grabbing it, and dragging him onto the floor. he touches your waist briefly before gripping the other side. “too loud, let’s go to the back, hm?” you smile and nod eagerly before he leads you to the hallway you previously had an encounter in. “now, what’s your name, doll?” he asks you, finger trailing up your arm. you tell him, not being able to hold back from answering.

you wait for his words, only getting a hand cradling and stroking your jaw. “what a doll.” he coos onto your skin. your eyes almost make his legs buckle when you look at his lips. he examines you with a certain look while he caresses your cheek softly. you can’t help but kiss him, but he kisses back passionately. his hands roam your body, fingers gripping softly around your neck. he had never been this close. 

“don’t want you back out there, ‘kay?” you nod as he leads you into a room with nothing but a small cot and a table. he kisses you ferociously while his hands softly graze over your skin, not wanting to break you. “what’s your name?” you ask him, and he answers, “coriolanus – snow.” hesitating to finish the name.

he looks at you for confirmation before running his finger up your dress and along your lace panties. “god, i mean, you’re just teasin’ me. huh, doll?” finger touching your clothed clit. your hand curves around his clothed bulge, and he bucks his hips into your hands quickly.

“never done this, never got this far.” you whisper into his ear while you hook your finger onto his pants. “good, that’s good, i’ll show you,” he whispered to you before kissing you again, the cut on his top lip serving as a reminder of his occupation. what he does to people. yet he can only think to protect you.

he lays you down softly on the table, standing between either of your legs. “can i see it? please?” you beg while he caresses your thigh, dress ridden up to your stomach. he complies, nodding while he unbuckles his belt. pulling his pants down to reveal his clothed cock with a wet patch, hunched over while he palms himself through his boxers, earning a groan.

you look up at him with your innocent eyes, waiting for him to do something. he pulls his cock out of his boxers, it springing up and leaking with pre cum. he ruts his cock against your clothed clit, large hands gripping your waist as you pout. 

“gonna make you feel good, ‘kay, doll?” he says, pulling down your panties. “‘s not gonna fit. gonna break you.” his tip prodding at your wet entrance. his tip makes you wince when he even tries to stick it inside of your wet cunt. you shudder and grip his arm, “it will, won’t hurt me just put it all in.” you say, so needy for his fat cock in you, wanting him to take away all of your innocence. 

“ready, princess? ‘s gonna hurt.” he furrows his eyebrows as he waits for your confirmation. you nod before he pushes his fat cock deep into you. your eyes water and you whine when his tip forces its way into your tight cunt. his gaze meets yours while he slowly pushes in, inch by inch getting more engrossed into you.

you mewl and cry as he moves his hips back and forth, barely thrusting. “told you, doll, it’s gonna hurt.” his thumb running over your lips when he speeds up, getting more length inside of you. he loves to know he’s doing this to you. do you know how many times he’s even thought of this? being able to break you open?

“ – m’ okay,” you hiss. “gonna push it all in, ‘kay?” he cranes his neck to see your eyes, making sure you know. he places his hands on either of your hips, lightly caressing them before sliding far inside of you, eliciting a groan from him and cries from you. you whine and tears run down your face when you smile at him. “tsk, so pretty.” his cock now sliding in and out of your tight cunt that grips him perfectly.

your lower half shakes uncontrollably under his cock. “so pretty, hm, doll? takin’ it good. first time for everything.” you turn into an incoherent mess when his cock brushes up against that spongy spot. he can tell you’re almost there. his hands press all over your back, pulling you closer to him. “feel it comin’, feel it in my stomach.” you say. he nods, taking in your words.

your cunt grips coriolanus perfectly, making sure to attend to every vein and suck every drop of pre cum out of him. he thrusts passionately, hips finding a rhythm to pleasure you with. you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes and whine every time.

“ – can’t take it– can’t take it anym–more.” your legs shake before your stomach tightens up completely. he sets his warm thumb on your clit, rubbing it lazily. “c’mon, princess. scream for me. tell me how good this feels for your first time.” you cum hard around his cock, spasming harshly. 

you can barely form a coherent sentence when you cum all around him, his lips smashing yours, juices spilling all over the table and floor. “ – s–so g–good.” you try to say as drool pools at the corners of your mouth.

juices fall from your cunt as he takes this as an opportunity to speed up again, pushing deep inside of you as you dig your nails deep into his arms. “almost d–done, princess.” he groans. 

his cock twitches before his balls tighten up at the sight of you. so pretty, completely cock-drunk, crying from him. you can barely look at him. 

“gonna take it all, take all of me, princess.” he wraps his arms around your torso before cumming deep inside of you. his cock continues to twitch as it gets covered in his cum, making sure to fuck it deep inside of your cunt. tears flow freely down your face when his cum gets pushed into you. “can’t – can’t do it anymore. stomach…” you taper off before you cum again, your mixed juices falling onto the floor beneath you. 

coriolanus still thrusts, just slower and more tame. he delivers sloppy kisses all over your face, letting you know how proud he is of you. “did so well. took me so well for your first time, princess.” he nods to make sure you know how perfectly you did.

“hurts, hurts real bad, coryo.” he hisses at the sudden nickname.

“i know, i know, doll.” he coos while rubbing your back.

he smiles knowing you’re his now, you’re his girl.

um im gonna watch tbosas again

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x y/n #tom blyth #billy the kid x you #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid #tom blyth smut #young president snow #young snow #coriolanus drabble #smut

[dwindlinghaze]

endless empathy

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: post full moon remus who just wants to be with you

contents: short fic, fluff fluff idk more fluff lol :) established relationship, descriptions of kissing

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"how're you holding up moony? just a few more steps to the hospital wing and you'll be better," sirius said. remus' arms were over james and sirius' shoulders, each supporting their injured friend.

finally arriving at the hospital wing, which for him took so long. remus sighed as he rested his body against the mattress. it wasn't the comfiest but better than nothing. his chest was aching painfully, with new fresh scars from that night. no matter how many times he had transformed, he never got used to the unbearable pain of it all.

madam pomfrey patched him up, quickly shooing away the james, sirius, and peter out of sight.

"where's my girl?" the first thing remus thought right after he woke up is where you were. james and sirius were visiting remus just like any other full moons, but you weren't there... yet.

"she'll be here soon moony," sirius said, trying to crack an assuring smile. just then you walked in with his breakfast in a paper bag, eyes searching for your boyfriend. "long live, she's here."

"morning everyone, morning love," you bowed down to kiss his temple gently, making sure not to make any direct contact against his healing skin. it really hurts to smile when there are scars all over his face, but he couldn't help it.

"we should leave them to be," james said before dragging sirius away out the wing.

"feeling better?" you asked as you opened his breakfast. you've learned to cut them in smaller pieces to avoid remus' scars from opening again due to facial movements.

remus hummed as he reached for your hand. "much better." you fed him his usual breakfast as you tell him about your day and the little information about what you dreamt last night.

"sorry," he whispered, shame washed over him as he took in how pathetic he must look right now. pale, lost of blood, dry, cold.

"don't be sorry for anything," you cupped his face gently. "i love taking care of you rem. makes me happy by just spending time with you."

remus melted at your words as he shuffled to get closer to you. burying his face on your arm, kissing the skin softly.

madame pomfrey walked in and smiled at the two of you as she made her way with some healing potions in the tray she held. in the lady's eyes, you both were like a couple straight out from a book. one always seeks out for the other.

"i suppose he can return back to his dormitory, seeing he heals faster each time," the old woman said, more to you than to remus. "some potions just in case the gashes opened, 'tis all he needs."

remus visibly blushed, seeing you nodding at madam pomfrey. "i can help with that," you offered and she let you, handing the bottle of yellow liquid. she opted for you to use the pipette, adding a few drops before smearing it lightly across the cuts on his back.

"practicing for the old days?" the older woman said in a teasing tone yet very flat. she usually was stern and strict but seeing remus being taken care of by you softened her.

remus cheeks were tinted pink, lucky he was facing the other way. you chuckled in response, shaking your head at her remark.

after madam pomfrey left, you helped remus to put his sweater on, whispering sweet encouragements. you sat down beside him and circled an arm around his torso. he leaned into your touch, cheeks pressing against your neck.

"wanna go back to my dorm," remus mumbled, lifting his head up slowly to catch your eyes.

"of course, just hold on to me," you started to stand up, opening your arms for him to hold onto.

the walk was slow with you trying to help him up. gosh the amount of stairs hogwarts has is unbelievable. remus was strong enough to climb all of them so now he's on his bed, body flat against the mattress.

"lay beside me princess, please?" he asked, looking up at you with the most adoring eyes. he really wanted you to hold him. after a rough night at the shrieking shack, all he needed is the comfort of his love.

"of course," you replied, sliding down beside him as you cover both of your bodies beneath his warm blanket. he threw his arm over your body, face pressing against your chest.

"want cuddles," he mumbled. you always love it when remus gets all mushy and sickly adorable. he was always like this after a full moon and you could never complain. you want nothing more than to hold him and protect him from the nasty world.

moving to a better position, remus looked up at you, smiling before he pressed his lips against yours. it was a soft and sweet kiss, nothing hungry or heated. he badly wanted to feel you.

when you smiled in between his lips, he couldn't help but smile too, pressing harder this time.

"d'you want a back massage?" you asked softly when he groaned in the middle of the kiss, trying to get up to kiss you more.

"yes but i also want to kiss you," he pouted, dipping down to connect your lips again.

before he could though, you held his jaw, noses were already touching. "pick one love, can't do that at the same time," you spoke, in which he returned by a whine and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. he stayed there for a while, seemingly thinking about the decision.

"what about kissing and back rubs?" he said, lifting his head up again to look at you. his eyes held such softness and warmth, contrast to what he was just hours ago.

"sure can," you giggled. it is so hard to resist him. moving your hand around his back in a soft circular motion, remus sighed softly against your face, nuzzling further to your skin.

he pressed his cheeks against yours, smiling in pure bliss. then he moved away to capture your lips in his afterwards, moulding together perfectly.

your lips are the softest, he loves kissing them so much. the position you both were in made it possible for him to feel your heart beating against his. he can feel your heartbeats thumping. it makes him so happy- just by feeling the beat of your heart.

the sweet kiss you shared was now turning more into a soft make out session. him nibbling at your bottom lips as you both pulled away slightly to breathe.

you two have a brief eye contact, smiles slowly creeping up your cheeks. he looked down at your pink plumped lips, glistening perfectly for him to dive down again to continue on what he has left.

that whole day, you spent your time with remus laying above you, body pressed against the other comfortably. you didn't know how long you both made out but your lips were now in the brightest shade of pink.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin fic

[oracle-of-dream]

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: Yechan is from the rookie idol group, 82Majors, and his managers have set him up in the studio to get some amazing photos. But he's heard of your other prizes for good behavior, so he's interested in your other services...

Warnings: Male Reader, Blowjob, facial, degradation, domYechan, cum eating

Wordcount: 1.7k

You spent your morning selecting the songs for the playlist vibe you needed for today's photoshoot. Rookie idols were always tricky to deal with. Most were scared so stiff that they could hardly count as models...

Today, Yechan from 82Majors was your muse. The appointment was a last-minute order from management, and someone must've paid a chunk of money to call you in before noon. It's a part of your contract that you don't have to work before noon without an extra fee determined based on your mood for the day. It was 8am, so you told your boss to push for 40% higher than your usual rate. This usually moved companies away to pick a later time, but your boss immediately texted you back, telling you to get ready.

It was ten minutes before the photoshoot was supposed to start. Your staff set up everything from lights, cameras, software, and canvases. There was murmuring in the prep room, which is the room before entering the main studio, which meant the client had arrived. After some time, likely for hair and makeup to work him over, a young man with brown hair and strong cheekbones entered and greeted you.

"Hello, photographer y/n. It's a pleasure to be working with you, and thank you so much for taking our call so late minute." He bowed deeply.

"Yeah, hi. Just called me, y/n. Photographer y/n is a little much."

The boy nodded. "I-I'm Yechan, from 82Major!"

"I know who you are. I read the paperwork," you replied dryly.

Your morning coffee hadn't kicked in yet... This was going to be an extremely rough morning.

Yechan took his time to go around to the rest of the staff and introduce himself to each of them, handing out small gift bags from his company.

You looked at your phone for the time. 8AM.

"Okay, that's enjoy chitchat. I'm already at 30% on the irritated scale, and being behind schedule will make it jump to 50%."

With your clear directions, everyone hopped to attention and started scrambling to their stations. Yechan hustled off to get his hair and makeup re-touched before stepping onto the canvas.

"Yechan, if you have any issues or questions with the photos, tell me. The one thing I hate more than waking up early is someone who can't speak on issues.

Yechan nodded eagerly and took followed directions beautifully. Every single angle, down to the degree, was perfect. Clearly practiced. Because of that, you managed to wrap up the first set of photos easily.

"Let's take 10 and switch outfits. We're making excellent time, so let's keep the pace up." You announced to the team.

As you went back to your studio chair, Yechan approached you meekly.

"Yes?" you asked without looking at him, more interested in your phone.

"Um... I'd like to ask you about your services, sir." Yechan mumbled.

You rolled your eyes before looking at him. "My services? I'm a photographer. I take pictures. Be clear about what you want."

"Okay, then I'll be straightforward." Yechan took a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like to please you."

You raised an eye. "Please me? I'm happy enough that we're ahead of schedule. You want me to be happy? Keep working hard."

Yechan shook his head. "I don't know if there's some sort of secret code or something... it's honestly a little embarrassing to just say, you know."

You giggled in your seat, finally looking up from your phone. Yechan was a pretty good-looking man. Knows his angles, good body proportions, and a face card that doesn't look like it'll decline with its high limit. You bet he was about 6 1/2 inches, with a left curve. You read that he was from Canada and the brother of another idol, but you can't remember the brother's name...

You sat back in your chair. "Do you mean you want to have sex with me, boy?"

Yechan's face got pink instantly. "Well, they said you were really frank. But I still didn't–"

"So it's a no?"

"It's a yes! I do want to have... s–sex with you."

You smiled. "And what did you have in mind, young man?" The age gap between you wasn't big, but you could tell he was melting from you treating him like he's the younger in this situation.

"I want to do whatever makes you happy."

"So you have no plan? That's not very well prepared of you."

"I'm pretty skilled though! I got a few tricks!"

You smiled bigger. "Tricks? And what if I refuse? Yechan's face turned white. He clearly didn't consider the possibility of you saying no to him. "You didn't think I was some prostitute, did you? That you could just say, sex, and I'll give it?"

He shook his head, "No! Of course not–I'd never think that."

"Then tell me, what would you want? If you can have anything from this."

He looked around before getting closer to whisper. "Um... If I could choose. I think I'd be really into cumming on your face after you suck me off, and maybe I call you a few names and stuff..."

"Oh, that's it?"

He shrugged. "I'm a rather simple guy..."

"Then, simply guy, let's finish this up so we can get busy," you winked at him as you went off to find more of your staff, leaving him alone with a clear boner.

The photoshoot resumed, Yechan in his new outfit. The crop top really complimented his figure, and honestly got you more excited for what was coming. You could also tell he was pretty excited. His cock could barely stay inside his pants, a few pictures had his tip peeking out, and you personally deleted those to save him from the embarrassment.

After the photoshoot, Yechan went into the dressing room to get changed. You dismissed the staff for the night, thanked everyone for being present, and then walked into the dressing room.

"Hello? Anyone home?" You called.

Yechan let out a small yelp, covering himself. "I'm in here!"

"Yes, obviously. I came here to find you." You closed the door and locked it behind you. "I'm here to give you the reward you requested for being such a good boy today."

Yechan's face was red, his shirt and underwear were on, but his pants were still on the floor.

You winked at him, "easy access? For me? How considerate."

"That's not–"

You dropped to your knees and started crawling over to him. "This is your reward, remember? Anything you want goes, but if either of us says stop, we're done."

Yechan nodded, still covering his crotch.

You crawled right up to him, your face inches away from his dick. "Are you going to hide all day? Isn't it your desire to take charge?" You unbutton your shirt, letting it sensually slide down your shoulders, but not taking it off completely.

"So, I can just go?" Yechan asked again to be sure.

"Yep, just–" Yechan pulled your hair and pushed you into his crotch, making you huff his musk. Slightly sweaty, but pretty clean. You could feel his cock throbbing under the thin fabric, 6 1/2 inches, and curved to the left... You moved your hand to touch it, but Yechan slapped it away.

"Did I tell you to use your hands, s–slut!?" He hesitated at calling you a slut. But the submissive look in your eye reaffirmed him. "Use your mouth to take it out."

You maneuvered your mouth to his waistband, nose grinding against his abs, and dragged his boxes down. His cock smacked you in the face as you moved. His balls were heavy and full, he was throbbing like crazy, and even a slight graze earned a guttural groan. Yechan had really been waiting for you...

"Get to work, whore."

You look up at him, still keeping your hands off him as you caught his cock in your mouth and started licking.

"More than that, I don't want you half-assing it. I'm a busy man!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you into him to make you take more.

Yechan was starting to get more into it, which made you want to mess with him. He wouldn't last long if you tried to push him to it, but if he's so busy, then he can handle it. You straightened your back, corrected his hand to move your head and not pull your hair, and relaxed your jaw. Yechan noticed the change in your attitude as he started getting greedy. Pushing you deep, holding you there, all while telling you how much of an attention whore you are. You pressed him more, flattening your tongue and turning off the gag reflex. You were taking over.

"Wait, holy f–fuck," he moaned as he grabbed a nearby table. "Oh, you're so good. So, so, good at this." You squeezed his balls, earning more praise. "My balls too! Fu–fuck, baby just like that. Keep chugging it." He pushed you down, controlling the tempo, making it faster. "Your mouth is amazing, I–I'm gonna fucking cum." He almost whined as you pulled off of him, jerking him off and licking his tip. His pressure was building. Fast. "Please let me cum on your face!"

You giggled. "Say it in character!"

Yechan's words were still fumbling. "I–I will cum on your face?" He questioned before you squeezed his balls firmly. "God Damn," his cum shot out and landed on your face. "My... g–god." He wouldn't stop, pump after pump. It was at last 8 pumps, full of cum, now on your face. Each was accompanied by a thrust and whining moans from Yechan. You stroked him through it all, milking him completely before giving the tip a lick and a kiss.

"All done?"

Yechan breathlessly smeared his cum on your face, using his cock. Pushing it toward your mouth. "I'm sorry for the mess..." He said breathlessly.

You pulled out your phone and took a picture with Yechan. Cock still out and cum on your face, but a little less as you wiped some off. You put the tip back in your mouth for your picture, earning more begging from Yechan.

"P–Please! No more, I can't cum again!"

You help Yechan finish getting dressed and clean yourself up, sending him on his way and adding his photo to the folder with the others...

#82major #yechan #oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #yechan 82major #82major smut #yoon yechan #yechan smut #82major x reader

[in1-nutshell]

I need more of Megatron being a terrible father.

I need Soundwave realizing that Buddy will never be safe on Nemisis and creates a plan for her to escape, entirely against her will. She has been raised that the worst thing you can do is betray Megatron. She's terrified of what will happen to her if she leaves.

I need Soundwave to throw her at the autobots through a ground bridge with a bow on top and a sticker thar says handle with care.

I need buddy to be freaking the fuck out for the next few days while she's with the autobots.

I need Optimus and Ratchet to be low-key (high key) horrified at what has become of her. How funny little buddy who liked to read and the color purple now can't look anyone in the eye.

I need the rest of the autobots being EXTREMELY warry of her because she's MEGATRONS KID

And I need Bulkhead to just move a little too quickly in her direction, and she just crumbles to the floor begging for mercy. I need them to know exactly how shitty of a father Megatron is.

Bonus points if Miko asks about her daddy issues.

Bonus bonus points for Optimus learning that before Megatron came back and did drugs, Buddy was in charge and was trying to reach them for peace negotiations and mentally slamming his head against the wall.

Tis here! After hours of editing and writing... the second part to Megatron's daughter!

Thank you to everyone who has posted their comments about the last one, it means a lot!

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality: Soundwave's Plan part 2

SFW, Platonic, ANGST, You have been warned!, Hurt and Comfort, Cybertronain reader

TFP

It took longer than expected but Soundwave finally found one night where everything could fall into place. His plan would act.

Megatron and Starscream had left the Nemesis to look over some energon tunnels, leaving the Nemesis without its leader.

Without anyone competent on the cameras.

Carefully, he put a loop schedule on the cameras as he made his way to Buddy’s room.

The mini was in deep sleep, exhausted from the recovery of her injuries.

It wasn’t wise to get her out of the med bay like this, but what choice did he have. At this rate, Megatron was going to want to train her while she is recovering.

Buddy still had some fresh dents and welding marks littered across her frame. Knockout refused to mess with them until the next day to avoid further armor complications.

Soundwave carefully picked up his niece and headed out the door.

Thankfully Buddy was an extremely heavy sleeper in recovery. If she were awake now during the escape, she surely would have thrown a fit about all of this.

He created a groundbridge and stepped through it, the cool night of the dessert greeted him when he stepped out.

Buddy was still out cold.

Soundwave hoped that the fake emergency signal he sent out would reach the Autobots soon, he was already betting so much with Buddy and the position of the Nemesis like this.

Another groundbrigde opened behind him a couple feet away.

Optimus and Ratchet come out of the groundbrigde.

Optimus with his blaster at the ready with Ratchet holding his med kit in one servo.

“Soundwave?”--Optimus

Soundwave turning around with Buddy in his arms.

Both Autobots optics go wide.

“Is… is that—”--Ratchet

“Buddy?”--Optimus

Soundwave nods slightly and begins to walk forward.

The Autobots tensing up a bit.

“I—come here—in—peace.”—Soundwave

“And how can we trust you?”—Ratchet

“You—don’t.”--Soundwave

Soundwave walks towards the Prime and stops in front of him.

Ratchet takes a look at Buddy, servos slightly shaking seeing the dents and welding marks.

“What is this? What happened?”--Ratchet

“Buddy—not—safe—on the Nemesis.”--Soundwave

“What do you mean she isn’t safe on the Nemesis? She’s Megtron’s daughter who would be daft enough to—”--Ratchet

Soundwave gently pushes her to Primes arms.

Prime reflexively cradles Buddy’s frame closer to him.

“Why did you call us Soundwave? Surely, if this is about Buddy’s health, Megatron would have—”--Optimus

“Megatron—did this.”--Soundwave

“…What?”--Optimus

“Megatron—hurt her. Too much—damage done. Buddy—not safe—on—Nemesis. I—cannot keep—her—safe. Prime can—keep her—safe.”--Soundwave

“…Megatron hurt her… Do you mean to tell us all this damage was Megatron’s doing?”--Optimus

Soundwave nods silently and turns walking away.

“Wait so you’re just going to leave her!?”--Ratchet

Soundwave stops for a moment.

“Buddy—not safe. Buddy—safe—with Prime.”--Soundwave

Soundwave gives one last glance to Buddy’s sleeping form before going through his groundbridge.

Ratchet and Optimus are stun in silence fully rerestarting the words.

Buddy yawns a bit and snuggles closer to Prime’s chassis.

Prime instinctively holds her closer.

Both Autobots are furious and worried over their niece.

“Bulkhead, open up the groundbrigde. We are bringing in someone.”--Ratchet

The three of them returned and everyone was immediately swarming the Prime holding an injured minibot. Everyone is curious about them. The kids are especially curious. This bot was smaller than Arcee, much closer to their size.

Arcee looks at a scratched up Decepticon logo.

Her blasters go up.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Arcee what are you doing!?”--Bulkhead

“That’s a Con! Why did you bring them here!?”--Arcee

Buddy yawns a bit and begins to open her optics slowly.

“Primus… that hurt… note to self, get a—”--Buddy

Buddy looks up at the very blur optics staring right back at her.

Buddy slowly looks around at the Autobots around her, especially the one with the blaster trained on her chassis.

“Primus tell me this is a dream…”--Buddy

Buddy patting the ends of Optimus’s digits slowly.

They aren’t sharp…

They aren’t sharp!

“OH PRIMUS THIS IS REAL!”--Buddy

Buddy somehow jumps out of the Prime’s servos and starts running to the door.

“Get her!”--Arcee

Smokescreen tries to tackle her down, but she sidesteps making him crash into a wall.

Arcee tries to fire a blast at her, but Optimus immediately puts the blaster down.

“Stand down everyone!”--Optimus

“But Prime—”--Arcee

“Stand down!”--Optimus

Everyone, even Buddy in the corner stops.

Optimus turns to Buddy who is shaking in the corner staring right back at him.

Ratchet is the first to make a move and slowly walks to Buddy.

Buddy tries to press herself more into the wall as ratchet stops in front of her.

“…Hello Buddy…”--Ratchet

“…Dr. Ratchet?”--Buddy

Ratchet gives her a tired smile.

“I’m going to look at some of your welding’s and dents. Is that okay?”--Ratchet

Buddy stops for a moment before nodding her helm, slowly sinking down to the floor letting Ratchet make a few checks on the wounds.

Buddy asks what she is doing on their base.

Something that everyone wants to know.

Optimus tells them about Soundwave’s visit.

How Soundwave wanted Buddy to stay with Prime as the Nemesis was no longer safe for her.

Buddy is in deep denial.

There was no way that Soundwave would do that.

Not after everything they went through.

But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense.

Soundwave wanted her to be safe, and he thought that Optimus was going to keep her safe.

Many bots looked uneasy at her.

They had a good reason too.

This was Megatron’s daughter after all.

What if Megatron came knocking on their door with bombs demanding the sparkling back?

Buddy is granted refuge by Optimus despite some opinions.

The tensions in the base were thick.

Buddy stuck by Ratchet’s side the entire time.

No one wanted anything to do with her, which she understood.

Something that she wasn’t expecting was one of the humans to come up to her and try and kick her pede.

Buddy cleaning some of Ratchet’s tools.

CLANG!

Buddy looks down to see an angry human girl looking at her.

“That was for Raf!”--Miko

“What is this ‘Raf’?”--Buddy

“You’re dad nearly killed him!”--Miko

Buddy looks at the smaller human boy semi hiding behind the taller human boy.

She hangs her head a bit.

“I am truly sorry for my… father’s actions young Raf.”--Buddy

Miko, Jack, and Raf look surprised by the apology.

“Yeah, well a sorry isn’t—”--Miko

“It’s okay.”--Raf

“It is?”--Buddy

“It is!”--Miko

“Yeah, it happened a while ago, but you didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”--Raf

Buddy looking slightly horrified.

“Of course not! I would never want to hurt your indigenous population on purpose or with any malicious intent!”--Buddy

“…wow…”--Jack

“You don’t seem to be related to old Bucket head.”--Miko

“Well… you wouldn’t be completely wrong. He found me in the streets of Kaon in a trash bin.”--Buddy

“So, you’re a dumpster baby?”--Miko

“Miko!”--Jack

“I suppose so. Miko… is that your designation?”--Buddy

“Yep! You know… you don’t exactly fit the Con description. Like at all. One your small—”--Miko

“I’m taller than you, though.”--Buddy

“Yet, Arcee has more height on you.”--Jack

“Arcee? Was that the one who—”--Buddy

“Tried to put more holes in you? Yeah, I’m Jack by the way.”--Jack

“Pleasure to meet you, Jack. My designation is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Wait really? I thought Ratchet said that to calm you down. Coming from Megs kid, I’d think that you’d be named something like ‘Skullcrusher’ or ‘Smash’ or something threatening.”—Miko

“Orion actually gave me the name.”—Buddy

“Orion? Wait as in…”----Jack

The kids and Buddy looking across the room at Optimus and Bumblebee talking.

“Yep.”—Buddy

Miko plopping down in front of Buddy.

“All right spill the lore!”—Miko

“What’s lore?”—Buddy

Things slowly became less tense with the kids acting as an olive branch.

The first ones to come around were Bumblebee and Smokescreen.

It only made sense being that Buddy was near the same age as the two.

The three of them would chat about human media and the latest movies they watched with the kids.

Buddy became very fond of the movie nights the kids would put up.

“Hey, it’s my turn to sit there!”—Smokescreen

Buddy sitting right behind the kids to watch the projector.

“I’m shorter so I get to sit here.I wouldn’t be able to see anything with your big helms in the way. Its only logical.”—Buddy

Miko hoping into Buddy’s lap with a blanket to ‘cover' them both.

“Aww. C’mon! Bee?”—Smokescreen

Bumblebee laying on his side slightly behind Buddy with Raf laying down on his helm with a yellow blanket.

“Beep boop bep beep (You snooze you loose, Smokescreen)”—Bumblebee

Smokescreen laying down, slightly sulking behind Buddy, with Jack slightly leaning on him with a pillow on his head.

“Traitor.”--Smokescreen

“Act you age Smokescreen.”--Buddy

“Wait who is the older one here anyways?”--Raf

“That would be Smokescreen. Bumblebee is the youngest one out of the three of us.”--Buddy

“So, you’re the middle child?”--Miko

“Yes?”—Buddy

Strangely, Magnus and Arcee where the next ones to fall.

It was all thanks to Buddy trying to prove that she wasn’t here for anything malicious.

The two had decided to do some training with the minibot.

They were surprised to see how well the mini could move so quickly and so fast.

Whatever training Buddy had previously was good.

Buddy dodging another attack from Arcee.

“That’s enough. Training is over.”--Magnus

Buddy huffing a bit.

“You tired already? Would have figured that you had more in you.”--Arcee

“You wish Arcee. You barely touched me this time.”--Buddy

“This time. Wait till next time.”--Arcee

Buddy smiling a bit before turning to Magnus, straightening her back struts a bit.

“Ultra Magnus, sir?”--Buddy

“The training was adequate. You need to learn how to attack faster at your opponent’s weak spots.”--Magnus

“I will do my best sir.”--Buddy

Magnus giving a small smile before leaving the room.

Buddy smiling a bit, trying to ignore the shaking servos when she left the room.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were the last to fall.

It was all thanks to Miko.

Miko had been trying for a while to get them to play with Buddy.

Wheeljack flat out refused to work with Buddy, still thinking that this could have all been some sort of elaborate trick.

Bulkhead was a bit more open minded, but he backed Wheeljack up.

But after a bit of convincing, she managed to get them to play at least one game with her.

And it worked.

Bulkhead soon became another friend of Buddy’s while Wheeljack followed closely behind.

Optimus walking through the base with his data pad in his servo.

He turns the corner to hear laughter coming out of one of the rooms.

He peaks in to see Buddy and his two Wreckers playing, having a great time.

He manages to catch Buddy smiling.

A smile he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

He turns and continues his walk.

Optimus and Ratchet obviously trusted Buddy right off the bat.

They knew their niece well.

But that didn’t shake the memory of Soundwave telling them that Megatron had laid his servo on Buddy.

Ratchet was absolutely fuming with anger.

How dare a father even consider doing such a horrendous act to their own sparkling!?

Optimus really wanted to fight Megatron.

He almost felt the same way as he did when Raf had gotten exposed to the dark energon.

In a way they both feel like they had failed.

What if scenarios popped up more with Buddy around.

The duo did their best to get Buddy to open up about her time on the Nemesis.

So far it had been snippets here and there, nothing major, but it was something.

Optimus, Ratchet, and Buddy looking at some coding in the empty base.

Buddy stops for a second.

“Buddy? You found something important?”--Ratchet

“It’s just…when fath—when Megatron left to space for those years on Earth, I was put in charge of the Decepticon army.”--Buddy

Ratchet’s optics widen a bit.

Optimus is not too surprised by this news.

“I—I tried to get in contact with you… I wanted to negotiate peace between our two factions, for good.”--Buddy

Optimus optics widen now.

“I—I figured it could be the one good thing I could do on the forsaken ship… I should have tried harder to—”--Buddy

Optimus hugs Buddy close.

Buddy’s optics become blurry with tears.

“Oh…oh Buddy…”--Ratchet

Ratchet rubs circles on Buddy’s back as she racks a sob on Optimus’s chassis.

The Prime holds her close to his spark, wishing he could take away her pain so badly.

They knew they needed to talk more about this to Buddy, but they never seemed to find the right time.

Until the truth revealed its ugly head.

Miko was on Buddy’s shoulder trying to show her a new photo that she took not too long ago.

Buddy didn’t notice Bulkhead behind them.

He wanted to get Miko to go help her with her guitar lessons.

The only things Buddy recognized was a dark shadow and a fast-moving servo.

It was too quick.

Buddy soon found herself cradling Miko close to her chassis with her back towards the offender.

She waited for the blow.

She felt sick when she didn’t feel the blow.

Maybe it was because the only thing Buddy could feel and hear where the loud hums of her spark going haywire.

She didn’t notice Miko furiously hitting her armor trying to snap her out of it.

She didn’t notice the sudden crowd around.

She did notice someone trying to take Miko away.

She tightens her grip on the human but making sure not to hurt her. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

It took a minute to try and get Buddy to calm down.

Buddy felt awful for the sudden panic.

Buddy sitting on the med slab looking at Miko who was in her servos.

“I’m so sorry for that.”--Buddy

“Buddy you’ve already apologized, anyways it’s okay.”--Miko

“No it’s not. That should have… it won’t happen again.”--Buddy

“It was my fault Buddy. Maybe if I hadn’t moved so fast.”—Bulkhead

Buddy looking at Bulkhead’s sorrowful optics.

“No Bulkhead it wasn’t you. You just looked a little like… The shadow reminded me of…”--Buddy

“Megatron?”--Ratchet

Buddy flinches a bit, but nods.

Silence.

Miko patting Buddy’s servo.

“When you came to the base all hurt, that was him wasn’t it.”--Miko

Buddy nods slowly.

“I… I think its about time you guys knew what happened. From the beginning. Optimus? Will you help me in the parts I don’t remember?”--Buddy

Optimus placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

“Of course.”—Optimus

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus x platonic reader #tfp ratchet #tfp ratchet x platonic reader #tfp soundwave #tfp soundwave x platonic reader #tfp miko

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

ATWOW extended cut: When one’s heart is opened in the face of death (my thoughts)

.

Ok I held back long enough, I think we have to talk about the Socorro Quaritch moments the extended cut provided us, because I’m obsessed with them. The dynamic that the fandom made up turned out to be true, with Spider being enabled to do as he wants during his time with RDA and Quaritch not once scolding him for his behaviour or "putting him in his place". Captivity was undoubtedly a very stressing time for him, a very emotionally taxing one but it’s interesting to see how the chemistry between these two characters bloomed. The scene where Socorro and the recom squad moved through the forest has shown just how fond Miles is growing of the kid, to the point where he lets go of his toxic behaviours and creates and environment in which the boy feels safe enough to go as far as leading recoms into traps. Also, it’s insanely funny.

The second scene is the extended edition of the Tau’nui village raid, with more violence and more tension. I feel horrible for these poor Na’vi, and for Spider, who got a little more screen time and with that, the movie makes it abundantly clear that Quaritch only makes the decision to burn the village because Spider was begging him not to take a Na’vi life. Not that it wasn’t clear before but I saw some ppl argue that Miles just has a “kind heart” (he does not.)

And then the cherry on top, the stand-off. A scene that should logically have never been cut out because it provides large amounts of character depth to everyone involved, but we’ll finally talk in depth about Quaritch and how he changed Spider’s opinion on him in just one minute of runtime.

Miles lets go of his charade of “I don’t care about this random kid” and frees Kiri, but Neytiri does not let go of Spider, instead pulling a knife to his throat. The Sullies panic, trying to bring Neytiri out of her grief-ridden trance.

And Quaritch tries so too.

His breathing is laboured, his ears pinned back, he was panicking. He asked her, in disbelief, “You really gonna kill the kid Mrs.Sully?”, and then told her, “You’re a warrior. Your fight’s with me, not with the boy.”

And Spider heard all of it loud and clear. He saw that horrible man whom he spent months with let go of his last ticket to victory, and then try and reason with a woman who holds him at knifepoint. I’m gonna quote @/soccorism a little on this, but Miles basically asked Neytiri to re-direct her rage from Spider to him.

Miles asked her to hurt him instead.

And after all that, how could Spider possibly have left him dying?

Every horrific thing he did is not cancelled out by his fatherly behaviour, but Spider had no time to ponder on everything and put his feelings to the side on the bottom of the ocean. The woman he knew all his life almost killed him, and the man whom he spent months travelling Pandora with pleaded with her to let him go. It was a decision made in a fit of emption, in a fit of sentimentality for a monster who got so strongly attached to him, he threw his mission out the window to ensure that he gets to live.

This cut of the movie provides so much more tenderness to the tragic relationship of these two characters, and ties the arc of their growing bond into a nice bow. No longer do we have to rely on glimpses of raw emotion and facial expressions. We have definitive proof that Miles and Spider had a bond, and a very strong one, which made both of the characters go against their respective groups for the sake of each other, and in the end?

It’s just the two of them.

#atwow #atwow spider #spider atwow #avatar spider #spider avatar #spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #avatar quaritch #quaritch avatar #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #atwow quaritch

[peaches2217]

Given it’s like 2 degrees where I live: 🥶!

🥶 - Cold

First Snow

Inspired by this piece by the exceptional @akiiame-blog!

~~~

Gonnnng! Gonnnng! Gonnnng!

Mario’s stomach dropped into his feet hard enough to make him stumble. The clock in Toad Town’s central square rang the hour out, ten resounding, musical gongs that rattled his very bones. They pushed him to sprint faster once he recovered his footing, and though the frigid air burned his throat and lungs like fire, he forged ahead with unprecedented determination.

Of all days to get distracted by snowfall! Now he would have no choice but to take the pipes at the base of Castle Hill. They would shave valuable minutes off of his commute, but the shortcut wasn’t particularly fun, being sized to accommodate creatures who reached three feet tall at the tallest. 

Though the closer to the castle he drew, the more he saw that he was hardly the only one who’d fallen victim to the snow’s charm. Toads spilled from their homes and places of business and even from the schools, filling the streets (and forcing Mario to dodge and leap over them at every turn) to make snowtoads and pelt one another with snowballs and share warm drinks with their friends. That was his out, he decided quickly, and he practiced his wording as he flew through the pipes. You know I’m never late, Princess, please forgive me! I’ve never seen the town so crowded this early. It wasn’t a lie, after all.

Surprisingly, the castle grounds looked much the same as the town itself did. Straight out of the final warp pipe, Mario was met with a flurry of merriment, everyone from visiting families to familiar staff and groundskeepers mingling about, frolicking and playing or otherwise watching their children frolic and play.

And straight ahead, on the bridge gapping the frozen moat, a form in all shades of gold and pink towered over those Toads. She caught Mario’s eyes as soon as he looked her way, and suddenly he felt far warmer than an extensive run could ever make him feel.

“Mario!” Peach’s cheery voice carried with ease as they began in one another’s directions. A luxurious pale pink cape fluttered behind her as she approached, tied in the front with a white bow to which her favorite brooch was fastened. Beneath it, a dress that looked nigh identical to her favorite day-to-day dress, but with long sleeves hidden beneath wool-trimmed gloves.

Mario gulped. Somehow, she was always more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her.

But the warm glow of her presence chilled as they reached one another, and he was forced to acknowledge that he had let her down. He knew his tardiness bothered him far more than it would bother her; admittedly, he was a bit miffed (but undoubtedly grateful) at how easily she overlooked his every fault. Still, he would be remiss to not hold himself accountable. Pulling his cap from his head, he drew in a deep breath—

“Please forgive me.” The words came not from his lips, but from Peach’s.

“...Princess?”

“I had hoped my letter would reach you before you left home,” she continued, casting her eyes aside, her smile turning regretful. “The Public Council will be postponed to next week, in accordance with the First Snow. I’m truly sorry to drag you out here on such a dreary day…”

Mario’s first response was relief. He hadn’t let his beloved Princess down after all! And as much pride as he took in being Peach’s personal guard, attending the monthly Public Council with her was perhaps his least favorite obligation. Standing still and not offering his own opinions as Counciltoads and townsfolk alike shouted over each other about every relevant social and political talking point — for three hours — was a challenge that tired even him. Letting out an exaggerated Phew! and wiping not-so-imaginary sweat from his brow, he slapped his cap back over his hair, and this elicited a small chuckle from Peach.

His second response: confusion.

“First Snow?” Glancing briefly away, he took in the clusters of Toads enjoying the winter scenery once more, and this time he recognized Councilmembers and Chairholders and, well, everyone who usually spent their work days inside the castle walls. And here they were, outside, having themselves a jolly old time. “So today’s like a holiday?”

A matching confusion flickered across Peach’s features. “Yes, of course. You’re aware of…” And just as suddenly, her eyes went wide, and she pressed a palm to her reddening cheek. “No, you’re not aware, are you? I don’t think you were here the last time it snowed!”

Mario couldn’t help but beam at her embarrassed gesture. Even he hadn’t realized it at first, looking out his frosty window that morning.  This was only his second winter in the Mushroom Kingdom, and last winter brought nothing but barren trees and the occasional patch of ice, nothing resembling the powdery luster that blanketed everything in sight today.

That Toad Town hadn’t always been his home became easier to forget with each passing day. He wondered, with a bristle of excitement he couldn’t quite put a name to, if Peach had momentarily forgotten as well.

“Hey,” he said, rocking on his heels, “since I’m already here, maybe you could… explain it all to me? I’m always up for learning new things about the MK! And clearly I’ve still got a lot to learn, yeah?”

Bold of him, perhaps, trying to petition royalty to give him their free time. Surely there were thousands of other tasks Peach would have been better off seeing to. But some nagging feeling in his stomach told Mario that she would much rather spend the morning with him than tending to dreary administrative duties, and he would sooner fulfill that desire and his own desire to be at her side for as long as possible than turn around and head back home.

Peach blinked, and in that fraction of a second he swore her face lit up. But if it did, she got it under control quickly, leaving him with nothing more than a gentle smile and the fluttery feeling that he had made the right call.

With a gesture of her head, she turned gracefully and began towards the castle gardens, and he dutifully fell into step beside her.

Oh yeah. This was way better than having to stand through Public Council.

~~~

“Our kingdom boasts an idyllic, seasonable climate all year long, as you’ve no doubt noticed. Our summers are never too hot, and our winters are never too cold. That’s why the Mushroom Kingdom is the world’s foremost leader in power-up exports: this is among the few places where they can flourish in the wild year-round.”

Mario would never cease to marvel at Peach’s talent for making the mundane sound magical. She clasped her hands in front of her as she spoke, her brilliant bluebird eyes sparkling as she prattled off what should have been mildly interesting but otherwise unremarkable facts. Yet he was unable to tear his gaze from her face, and her every word stirred a powerful curiosity within him, her love for her kingdom radiating so strongly outward that he felt it just as deeply.

Tour Guide Mode, he had affectionately dubbed it. Peach had agreed that, should the whole “leader of a nation” position ever fall through, she would make a pretty good tour guide.

“That is to say,” she continued, looking back over to him, “freezes such as this only happen once every few years. For that reason, the first snow after a long stretch of more traditional weather is always declared a holiday.”

Mario chuckled dryly. “That would’ve been nice growing up. Me and Luigi, our mamma would have to drag us to school by the ear when it snowed. And even then, we’d spend all day staring out the window and daydreaming about being out there instead of cooped up inside.”

Peach reached out absently as they passed another snow-capped shrub, its frozen leaves rustling beneath her fingers. “Did it snow often in Brooklyn?”

“Pretty often, yeah. At least around this time of year.”

“Oh, how wonderful! I would love to see it for myself.” The fondness in Peach’s eyes grew more resplendent still, and Mario could feel himself blossoming beneath it, like a flower opening its blooms to the sunlight. A laugh bubbled in his chest.

“I promise you didn’t miss out on much, Princess. Brooklyn snow was always sludgy and gray. Kinda depressing, come to think of it.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” At the next shrubbery, he blindly mirrored her actions, sweeping a pile of loosely-packed snow to the ground. “That’s why I had to book it this morning! We saw all this fluffy clean snow and ended up chasing each other around in our pajamas. We were neck-deep in the most intense snowball fight the Mushroom Kingdom’s ever seen when I realized what time it was.”

Peach giggled at this information, a gentle teeheehee that released tiny clouds of vapor into the air before her. “What fun! I’ve always wanted to be part of a snowball fight.”

Mario was more than prepared to continue, to draw more giggles from her with descriptions of two grown men all rosy-cheeked and dusted in snowflakes with icicles freezing from their nostrils — but he stumbled at her words.

“...You’ve never been in a snowball fight?”

Peach was only two steps ahead of him when she registered his absence, and she turned to face him where he’d frozen, her delighted grin growing a touch dour.

“Growing up, I was… encouraged to pour my energy into more productive pursuits,” she confessed. As Mario caught up, she steepled her fingers together and cast her gaze to the dense gray sky above them. “Toadsworth thought it unbecoming to dirty my dresses in the name of any game without clear rules. Better something more clear-cut like tennis or golf, he’d say. Keep the senses sharp.”

Her smile warmed once more in nostalgia, yet as she directed it towards him, he saw the slightest gloom beneath that glow. “There weren’t any children my age to rope into a good snowball fight, anyway. I’m happy to live vicariously through others! Oh, but enough of this gloomy tangent. Won’t you tell me more about the snow in Brooklyn? Come, come.”

Though as she resumed their walk, Mario remained where he was. The melancholy in her gaze… no. It was foolish, he tried to reason, thinking that someone so refined as Peach might be genuinely saddened by such a silly topic. But the heaviness that lingered in his heart implored him to give the thought consideration — and, above all, to do something about it. 

Peach was his Princess, his charge in many respects, beautiful and composed and perfect… but she was still human. She was just as likely to long for life’s little pleasures as he was. And above all…

“You needn’t be so formal with me, you know,” she had told him only a few months earlier. “You are my friend.”

At the time, Mario had agreed, but was far too hesitant to accept her invitation. Now? For a few blissful and dangerous moments, he was finally able to internalize those words. 

He was her friend, and she was his in return, his closest and most cherished friend. He watched her back as she strode forward, his knees bending and his hands scooping and shaping on their own. Just as he was charged to protect her, he felt compelled to humor and address and banish whatever childish sadness lingered within her. And honestly, what sort of friend would he be if let her miss out on such a commonplace tradition?

The notion that launching a projectile directly at a ruling monarch’s head was probably a bad idea didn’t hit him until said projectile left his hand, and by then, it was too late.

Peach squeaked on impact, nearly entangling herself in her own cape as she whipped around to face her attacker. And what could Mario do? He certainly couldn’t look away, not when she stared at him with such unbridled shock, a halo of snow still clinging to her hair. Color rose into her cheeks, but he couldn’t interpret the whirlwind of emotions that flickered across her face, and something told him he didn’t want to.

Oh, he’d done it. He’d really messed up.

“I’m— I’m so sorry!” What was he supposed to do now? Bow? Bowing sounded right. “That was improper,” he uttered sheepishly, bracing a fist over his sternum and bending at the waist and squeezing his eyes shut as if he could undo what he’d done if only he couldn’t see it. “I should— that’s not… I-I should be acting like—”

“Mario.”

Mario looked up immediately at the utterance of his name — and was promptly blinded by a flash of white.

He sputtered and swiped at his face, shocked into newfound alertness by the icy cold against his skin, and the most wonderful sound rang in his ears all the while: laughter. Peach’s laughter, tinkling and light. Shaking his head to clear the snow that still clung to his bangs and eyebrows and mustache (his cap falling to the ground in the process), he found, when his vision cleared, that she was giggling into her left hand, brushing the right against her skirt.

She had— she actually—

“Yeah,” Mario found himself saying before his brain caught up with him, “yeah, I deserved that.”

The color that flooded Peach’s face settled into a dusty pink, and as she closed the gap between them, Mario felt his own skin undergo a similar transformation. Some mix of relief and giddiness and the usual Peach-induced fluster kept him stuck where he stood, unable to do anything but blush and smile nervously. 

“Don’t dish out anything you can’t handle being served in return.” Peach stooped elegantly, brushing the snow from Mario’s fallen cap before setting it back on his head. “Or, put simply: it’s on.”

“W-what—?”

Before the ringing in his ears cleared (and, indeed, before he even realized his ears were ringing), Peach fled from him, hiking her skirts and rushing ahead a good few meters before stooping once more to gather snow between her palms, and only then did Mario’s brain catch up with the rest of his body.

He threw himself to his knees in the knick of time, Peach’s second snowball zipping overhead. Taking advantage of his stupor, huh? Once more pulling his cap into place, a wicked grin spread across Mario’s face.

“Ah! Not so fast, Princess!” he called, fumbling hands forming a rushed retaliation. “You should know I’m a battle-hardened snowball fight warrior!”

The snowball he launched barely missed its target; Peach squeaked again, jumping clear of the attack, and then she was preparing her counterattack the moment her feet returned to the ground.

“Well, I’m far scarier than any warrior!” she called back. “I’m a politician!” 

Thud! The attack hit Mario square in the left shoulder, and he cried in mock-pain, launching himself to his feet to make a show of stumbling around before jumping back into the action. And that was how the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom and her guard spent the next twenty minutes: circling one another, flinging fistfuls of snow to and fro, and filling the chilled air with harmonious laughter.

~~~

The fireplace in Peach’s drawing room was… excessive, put one way, at least ten feet wide and six feet tall. Mario couldn’t help but keep a wary eye on it as he sipped his coffee. One gust of air and that fire would flash over and burn the whole castle down, he was certain of it.

“I suppose I’ll be getting an earful from Toadsworth tonight,” Peach sighed beside him. Mario chuckled regretfully; the old steward had immediately coaxed them inside upon crashing their game in progress, tutting in disapproval at their unkempt appearances and rambling on about the colds they would catch unless they settled in and warmed their bones immediately, “and I shouldn’t have to tell you that falling ill is the last thing we need for you, Princess.”

Even so, taking his leave after delivering their hot cocoa and black coffee some ten minutes later, Mario knew for a fact that he’d seen Toadsworth smile. An old and tired smile, with some odd nuance behind it that he couldn’t name, but a smile nonetheless.

“Just tell him I challenged your pride and it was all my fault,” he offered in the present moment. Then, with a wink, he joked: “He knows I’m a bad influence.”

“Yes, that’s just what I want: two of my favorite people butting heads for my sake.” Peach smiled over her cocoa in good humor, and Mario did his best to smile back just as evenly, but hearing her affections spoken so plainly (if indirectly) sent his heart into a stutter that made his hands feel suddenly weak. He tightened his grip on the mug in his grasp and swallowed thickly.

But if he intended to respond, the words died quickly on his tongue. The oversized fire illuminated Peach’s disheveled silhouette, frazzled strands sticking out all over her head, her bangs still slicked down with sweat, a downy blanket draped over her shoulders and obscuring her wrinkled and ever-so-slightly stained dress. But seated on the chase just inches away from him, she looked… happy. She hummed as she drank her cocoa, and the flames before them danced in her eyes, orange and red against cool blue, staggering in their brilliance yet serene all the same.

To see her so content wasn’t a surprise, not really. But something about the sight still left Mario short of breath.

Only when her gaze shifted towards him did he realize he was staring, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. There was… there was love in her eyes, he realized not for the first time, a love she expressed towards him and him alone.

Though his heart could certainly hope, Mario knew deep down, or at least convinced himself he knew, that the love she felt for him wasn’t the same love he felt for her. But that made it no less sacred to him, and he knew he’d cherish her love in whatever form it took until the day he departed the earth.

Even so, an all too familiar ache seeped into his chest at the thought, more biting than any chill could ever be. Suddenly, the affection she graced him with felt unbearable. He looked back at the fireplace with an uneasy sigh.

“Mario?” He could hear her concern, soft but prodding, and Mario took the opportunity to finish his coffee and recompose himself. The bitterness of his drink dulled the unwelcome bitterness within him well enough for now.

“Honestly,” he said at last, staring down into his empty mug, “days like today… I wish they’d never end.”

Peach didn’t respond, not right away, and Mario worried at first that his melancholy smile might look a touch too melancholy. But finally she spoke, gentle and quiet and maybe just a bit sad: “I wish so too.”

#super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mario x peach #mareach #peaches' fancy fics #peaches’ prodigious prompts #the comic that inspired this is like. THE representation of their mutual pining phase for me #there's an attempt at formality but at the end of the day they just cherish each other and want to make fun memories together #they mean everything to me your honor #sneaky link to a past fic in here too~

[leavesfallensparse]

Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 1

'I want a photo of you in my bed, to carry with me when I go out west.'

In which Sadie and Matty have a very brief, very awkward, and very anxious encounter, Sadie gets very flustered but quickly finds herself fitting in with the group of rowdy boys and too many feelings are felt for her teenage brain.

warnings: drug use, implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, my sweet angel sadie being a sweet angel.

word count: 8.5k

a/n: soo .. hiiii! i am juniper and im begging you guys bear with me i have Never posted on here before. BUUUUTT i am vvvv nervous and excited to be posting this but it's been in the works for tooooo long. begging and screaming to be let out of the word doc its been confined to. so here we are i guess. pls enjoy sadie and matty they are my Children. if the title wasn't hint enough.. this is only part one.

Sadie has had the most stressful morning of her entire life. Her tie is untied around her neck and the only thing she cares to grab hold of is her camera. Her entire life is on that thing, and although she may be merely 14, her camera is her child. She hears her mother huffing at the bottom of the stairs and straightens up to catch a look of herself in the mirror, a mess, as she suspected. Her shirt is buttoned up wrong, her skirt is half tucked into her tights, she has on one Mary Jane and her backpack’s contents are strewn messily across her bedroom floor. With some swear words muttered along the way she is in the car within five minutes and her mum is chewing her out for being late to her first day of Year 10, which she couldn’t really care less for.

“I’ll see you tonight, mum! Love you!” Sadie slams the car door before she can hear her mums reply and heads into the school she’s grown to know quite well. She’s fallen into a friend group with some girls that she thinks will do for her high school endeavours, but Sadie already knows she’s destined for bigger than the small town of Wilmslow. Somebody else who thinks this way is Matty Healy, the boy who’s just gone into Year 11. Sadie has noticed him before, they both tend to frequent the music department, Sadie finds it visually appealing for her photo collection, whereas Matty finds it appealing to the ears, especially his own guitar strumming. Any time their paths cross Sadie bows her head and pretty much runs in the opposite direction, face as red as the wine her mum drinks when the sky gets dark.

As Sadie enters the front of the school she signs in late at the front and heads to her class, putting her camera in her backpack as she approaches her English class. She sighs and opens the door with stuttered apologies for being late, Sadie might be confident and come across as such but that doesn’t mean her 14 year old brain isn’t scared of high school teachers and their strictness. She stumbles to her seat and sits down, accidentally throwing her bag at her feet once she gets out the book the class are in the middle of silently reading. Even though she doesn’t know why the class is reading on the first day she’s thankful for it because it lets her mind wander, her dreams of being a famous photographer is what her mind favours over ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’, Sadie finds Dickens to be boring. She prefers the Brontë sisters.

When lunchtime finally rolls around Sadie is where she can normally be found, the music department. Her camera is lazily slung around her neck, her backpack having been left with her friends in the library. She favours avoiding the gossip for finding inspiration in the usual practice rooms, the ones she hasn’t found inspiration in for a while now. She spent every day before the Summer holidays begging whoever might be looking down on her for something to take a photo of. Somebody else had been wandering the same corridors as Sadie. Everyone in her year talks about Matty Healy, “the boy in the year above with a natural affinity for the guitar he’s always carrying around the school carried a naturally mysterious air.” Sadie can’t think of a single girl in her year who wasn’t utterly obsessed with every move of Matty Healy. Including herself, even if she’s very hesitant to admit it, an admirer from afar per se. She likes to think of him more in the sense of ‘his appearance is inspiring to her camera’.  Sadie was looking down at her feet, frowning at the scuffed shoes she wore for the entirety of Year 9 when she felt a larger figure bump into her. As she looks up and sees Matty with a guitar case in his hand she can’t help the pink tint that rises on her cheeks.

“Oh! Erm, sorry!” Sadie somehow manages to force the words out of her mouth. She seems to have the same shyness about her when talking to Matty that she does when looking her English teacher in the eye. An interesting discovery. She loses herself in overthinking the tone she just took with Matty when she hears him reply to her, something she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.” He meets her eyes and genuinely seems like he couldn’t care less about her mistake, he seems to take more notice of her camera, his head tilts and his eyes squint in the direction of it hanging limply on her neck. She seems to grow more confident in herself when she realises he’s looking at her camera, she knows she’s good at photography, that’s something she could talk about endlessly. Matty lifts a finger and points to said camera. “You any good?”

Her eyes widen slightly at the question, and she clears her throat at the same time her head begins incessantly nodding, she is acting crazy. She then begins to overthink her nodding. Why is she overthinking so much? Maybe she’s just having an off-day. She decides that she nodded like that because she knows she’s a great photographer, why would she not be overconfident about it? Seems normal enough.

“Cool. Can I see any?” This is when Sadie’s heart rate picks up. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t want to know why. She also does not want to know why he is asking her this. Matty’s question has sent her brain into full blown panic mode, maybe she does want to know why he’d like to see her photos. What could possibly intrigue him about her? The squint tie around her neck? Her incredibly dirty Mary Janes? In her 14-year-old brain she decides he fancies her. She’d come to find out in many, many years that she was, in fact, right.

“If you want? I’m bringing my hard drive tomorrow for my art class, they’re letting me use my photos this year, meet me at the library?” She says this with a coy smile on her face, in her head she is feeling a lot less coy because of the way Matty is smirking at her. What she doesn’t know is that he is looking down at her with a smirk because her face is so red that he thinks there’s something wrong, maybe it was something he’d said? After a beat of silence, he blinks down at her with a nod, and they bid their goodbyes. Once Sadie is sure Matty has turned the corner she lets out a silent squeal before quickly bolting to the school’s library and sitting down at the table her friends are at, she might not view them in any light, but they do love gossip. She takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to her friend sat beside her, “Matty Healy wants to see my photos. I have no idea why.”

Suffice to say Sadie didn’t sleep a wink that night. She sneaked through to her dad’s office to edit photos on the family computer at midnight when she was sure everyone was sleeping and when she was sure the photos were on her hard drive she went back to bed and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. She then had to drag herself to school the next morning, early, to meet Matty before classes. She had no energy to even be nervous, the eyebags on her face spoke for themselves. She all but flopped down on the seat next to the boy who held in his laugh at the sight of her. “Don’t laugh! I had to edit some of these photos before you saw them, and my bloody dad wouldn’t get off the computer last night, so I had to do it after he was sleeping! Anyways, wanna see?” When Matty nods with a smile she rifles through her backpack for her hard drive.

After silently looking through her photos for, like, three whole minutes, Matty turns to Sadie with a single nod. “So, I’m in a band. I think they’d love these. How about you come to our next practice and take some photos of us? See if they like what you do?” Sadie is now a mere puddle in her computer chair. She doesn’t speak in fear of her mouth betraying her, what would she even say? She nods for a while; she doesn’t know how long she nods for, but she knows it’s been a while.

“Yup, sounds good. Yeah, cool. Cool. Where do you guys practice?” Sadie doesn’t know what the fuck is coming out of her mouth. She is word vomiting all over Matty’s shoes. She wants to apologise but she isn’t sure she remembers the English language. Why is she so nervous? Oh, probably just because the guy that every single one of her peers fawns over is currently asking her to make him and his bandmates her next subject of inspiration. Her next muse. What even is her life.

“At my house. I’ll write the address down for you, hang on.” Sadie’s mouth has gone dry. Now she’s truly forgotten the English language. This can’t be real, and this certainly can’t be happening to Sadie. Matty Healy is writing down his home address for her to have. Not to even mention his literal famous mum and dad. She reaches her hand under the computer desk and pinches her thigh over her wool tights, it doesn’t hurt but she’s now sure this is actually happening. Sadie takes the paper from Matty and tries to process the date and time he’s reciting at her. They’re interrupted by the morning bell and when Matty holds the library door open for her she waves goodbye, bows her head and speedwalks away from him.

Sadie really tries to focus in her classes that day but it doesn’t work in the slightest, all she can think about is Matty Healy and she curses him for it. She tries to read some romance novel when she gets home but she starts picturing the characters as her and Matty and has to put it down. He has unknowingly taken over her brain, and she resents him for it. Can’t a girl even read in peace?! She took pride in being the only girl in her year who didn’t have a crush on Matty, now she can’t even hold that above his head.

By the time Friday rolls around Sadie is already over school, she never tended to like school, but she already knows that Year 10 is going to be dreadful. The one saving grace might come in the form of a boy in the year above. She leaves school and runs home to get changed before she heads to Matty’s address. She has cherished the crumpled piece of paper that held his address since she got it on Tuesday morning, she taped it to her mirror and that is where it will stay. It isn’t like she hasn’t come home every night from school and studied it, she knows exactly where she’s going.

Her shaky hand knocks on the door of said address about an hour later, she biked over from her house and actually enjoyed the ride, the early September sun was shining on her face and lighting up the bumpy country road she took to get here. Her thoughts are interrupted by a lively woman, quite aggressively, swinging the front door open. Sadie smiles up at her with squint eyes because of the sun attacking them, making the blue of her irises look probably insane. “Um, hi? I’m Sadie, Matty invited me to watch his band practice and take some photos of them.” Sadie lazily points to the camera around her neck with an awkward smile. She is coming across very poorly. But alas the woman opens the door wider.

“Oh! He never mentioned, he doesn’t tend to tell me these things though, typical teenager! I’m Matty’s mum, just call me Denise though, sweetheart. They should be in the garage.” Denise walks Sadie to the garage door where she can hear the loud laughter of teenage boys and obnoxious drumbeats. She smirks slightly and thanks Denise, accepting her offer of a can of coke. Once she takes it she enters the garage, and the laughter dies down. “Sadie’s here, boys, she’s very lovely so I don’t want to hear of any teasing or making fun.”

Sadie looks down at her feet as Denise defends her, even though the boys haven’t yet uttered a word. She hears the garage door close behind her and Matty gestures her over to him. He very casually, like it’s nothing, throws an arm over her shoulder and begins introducing her to the three other boys in his garage. She already knows George from a couple of her classes due to them being in the same year, but she lets Matty speak at her anyways. “So, Sades, this is Adam, he plays guitar and he's in the year above me, basically he’s old. That’s Ross, he does the bass, but I think he just pretends to know what he’s doing. And that’s George, obviously he plays the drums, but he just makes a fucking racket.” Sadie flushes at how casually he gestures, how casually his arm is around her, how casually he swears, and how casually he calls her ‘Sades’. That’s a new one.

“Um, hi, I’m Sadie it’s nice to meet you guys. Matty was singing your guys’ praise on Tuesday morning. Been looking forward to this since.” Sadie’s forearm has suddenly become very itchy, and she busies herself in looking around the garage in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the aforementioned boys. She notices a few posters on the exposed walls and a couple of guitar cases strewn across the floor, the last thing she notices is a battered leather couch against the wall, facing all of the boys and their many instruments and poor cable management. Sadie leaves Matty’s side and takes a seat on it, placing her coke on the floor and taking the lens cap off her camera.

The practice is well under way and Sadie’s mind has been racing with thoughts of how she’d shoot the band at an actual show. She finally gains the courage to stand up and has failed to notice Matty’s eyes on her the entire time he’s been singing. None of the other boys seem to notice either, Matty doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. When they finish up the last song they wanted to practice (for probably the tenth time), they start chatting about things they should do differently, and Sadie busies herself by looking at her photos on the couch. She gets caught up in them and doesn’t feel the sofa sink next to her, she looks up and sees George looking over her shoulder. “Any good photos of me?”

Sadie can’t help the pink on her face as she nods and turns her camera to him, showing him the few photos she got of him. She found it difficult to get good angles of George considering the size of the garage they were practising in, him being shoved into the back corner. As George was flicking through photos Sadie couldn’t help but study his face, his brows were slightly furrowed as he fiddled with the buttons on her camera, not knowing how to work it. He smirked at a few photos and his eyes scanned over the rest, when he looked up Sadie was suddenly very interested in the opening of her can of coke. She has no idea why she can’t look at any of the boys without her heart rate picking up and her face going bright pink. Maybe because she thinks they’re actually quite cool and she has no idea why she would possibly be sitting in Matty’s garage with them all. But she is.

The next time she has a run in with the band is a week and a half later when they all spot her in the lunch hall and wildly gesture her over. She had spotted them first and tried to look around to avoid them. She really wishes she knew why her subconscious was forcing her away from the boys. (She’s terrified she’ll embarrass herself. That’s why). She gets herself together and heads over to the table they’re sat at, awkwardly placing her bag at her feet. She murmurs something that could be perceived as a “hi” but honestly it could have been anything. “Have you edited the photos yet? We are highly anticipating them.” Sadie nods her head excitedly, glad that the topic is on her photos, something she actually is passionate about.

“Yeah! Yeah, they’re on a hard drive that you guys can have, I forgot to bring it with me today though. I’ll bring it tomorrow?” Matty nods and falls into conversation with the boys, who also include Sadie, sitting there helpless, unsure if she should get up and go to her friends. She dares to glance in their direction and when she sees them blowing fake kisses because of the curly haired boy she’s sat with she rolls her eyes and turns back around. She reminds herself that they are her surface level friends, they have nothing in common whatsoever, they’re too caught up in gossip. Sadie is too caught up in her camera. They don’t gel.

Sadie manages to fall into a conversation with Ross about English and their mutual enjoyment for the subject, she finds it incredibly random but she’s glad to have something in common with one of the boys. She relished in the conversation not being surface level drama that brought a yawn out of her throat, she also relishes in her slight ranting about her passions actually being listened to. Sadie likes Ross and his listening skills. When the bell rings she finds herself bewildered at the fact she doesn’t want to get up from the table, she’d quite like to stay and timidly laugh at the boys’ jokes and general noisiness. But, alas, she must head to the aforementioned English class, she makes a joke to Ross about how she’d rather go anywhere else. They share a hatred for Sadie’s teacher, him having had her for the previous school year. She finds herself falling into step with George, they’re already five minutes late.

They wave a goodbye to the rest of the boys who all disperse into different classes and walks silently with George. They pass by a few people that make them share glances to each other, grimaces present on their faces. Anytime this happens they both laugh and shove into one another until they reach the fated English hallway and George reaches into his bag and pulls out two sheets of handwritten papers. Sadie’s face basically turns into a question mark. “What? It’s the homework?” Upon seeing Sadie’s heart basically fall to her toes George can’t help but let out a baffled laugh. “Don’t tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Shit, George.”

The colder the weather gets the more Sadie begins to feel like an integral member of the group. She’s the one to tell the boys to shut up when they’re talking too loudly. She’s the one to shove Matty anytime he makes another member of the group the butt of his jokes. She’s also the one to tell him when his singing sounds shit. Sadie has been quite the talk of the town recently because of this, her old friends are spreading all kinds of rumours due to her gradually dropping them in favour of the boys. Although anytime Ross catches wind of these in the school corridors he’s quick to shut it down, whether it be defending her or physically getting involved… at least he's there!

The band are meeting up for their last practice before Christmas Day and Sadie is beside herself with excitement, she hasn’t seen the boys since the school broke off for the holidays on the 17th. She wakes up that morning already excited but when she opens her curtains and sees snow she swears under her breath, she couldn’t possibly drag her bikes weak tyres through the thick snowfall. So, she slides her panda slippers onto her feet and heads downstairs, finding her mum in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette in hand. “Morning, mum! Would you be able to give me a lift to Matty’s later? I was gonna bike over, but it must’ve snowed pretty hard last night.” When she hears the sigh escape her mum’s mouth and the slight thud of her palm on the counter she knows she’s not getting a lift.

Denise was expecting Sadie, she’d grown to expect the young girl’s presence around the house at any given time. But what Denise wasn’t expecting was to open up the door to Sadie, bike in hand, tears staining her bright red cheeks, and no hat on her head. This just wouldn’t do. “Oh! Sadie, sweetheart, what happened? Come in, out of the cold now, just dump the bike, that’s fine. Why did you bike here?” Sadie tries to speak but her brain seems to think that letting a sob rack her body is the smarter way to go about this.

“Mum wouldn’t give me a lift, said she had more important things to be seeing to. Had no choice.” Denise immediately puts the kettle on and wraps the girl up in a blanket, rubbing her shoulders after forcing her to take a seat at the kitchen island. Sadie can hear the boys upstairs and is glad of Denise calming her down and talking to her before she has to face them. After Denise gives her a telling off for not, at least, putting on a scarf, she turns to Sadie with an eyebrow raised. She just sighs. “She does this all the time. Feel like a nuisance at that house. Always in the way.”

Upon hearing this Denise circles the kitchen island and crowds her into a hug which she can’t help but accept. After a beat of silence occasionally broken up by Sadie’s sniffles, the two part, Denise keeping her at arm’s length. “You shouldn’t feel like a nuisance. Listen, any time you come here I’m delighted, probably because you balance the testosterone levels a bit, but not just that, you’re the kindest young lady I’ve ever gotten to meet, and it’s always a pleasure to have you at the house, you keep my boys in check. Now, if you ever feel like this again, phone my number from your house phone, and I’ll come pick you up, can’t have you biking in the snow anymore.”

Sadie nods her head at Denise’s words, letting out a slightly weepy laugh anytime she makes a dig at the boys. She feels strangely warm inside, despite the subzero temperatures she was just faced with, and she doesn’t know why. She’s never felt safer than when Denise took her hand on the kitchen island. Matty’s house is now her safe space she’s decided. Speak of the devil, Sadie hears a clatter from the stairs behind her and when she turns she sees Matty’s eyes light up. “Sades! You made it! I thought you weren’t gonna come because of this snow, glad to see you though, George is chatting shit about your English teacher again. Something about holiday homework, help me take some juice up?”

Sadie takes the blanket with her and with a smile in Denise’s direction she waddles over to the fridge. She makes sure to finish her tea before grabbing a can of coke. Another thing she likes about the Healy house is the constantly stocked fridge, anytime she needs a drink there seems to be one on hand. Almost akin to Mary Poppins handbag. She takes one of the cans Matty is juggling with a giggle and bids goodbye to Denise before heading up the stairs. Matty entertains this journey by telling her that his dad had taken Louis, his younger brother, out to build a snowman a half hour ago and Sadie laughs at the image of his rosy cheeks and tiny hands grasping at snowflakes. She dotes on Louis, always having wanted a younger sibling, she treats him like her own brother.

When the door to Matty’s bedroom opens she smiles at the sight, three boys strewn across the room in one big, lazy mess. They all seem to perk up at the sight of Sadie, George especially. “Thank fuck you’re here, need help with this homework, my mum told me to have it finished before Christmas. And Ross, miserable bastard, is refusing to help me. Have you done it?” Sadie sets down Adam’s can of coke on the desk, cracking her own open before sitting criss-cross on the floor beside George. She nods at him over the can, and he can’t help but cheer and push it towards her, struggling on the carpet. “You’re so much better than me at English. Read what I have.” She sets down her can and skims over what George has written.

“Oh dear, I’ll help you after practice.” At this the boys all glance at each other and the room falls silent. Did she say something? I mean, they’re here for practice, right? Right. Sadie has just missed it, her treacherous journey to the Healy house took longer than usual, and she left late. “Have you already practiced?” When faced with four nodding boys, Sadie sighs and nods too. “That’s okay, we can just hang out, then.” Matty looks at her with a sympathetic grimace. He overheard more of her conversation with his mum than he originally let on.

Matty decides that changing the subject entirely is the best thing he can do in this situation, he doesn’t want to force her to talk about why she was crying to his mum. “We liked the most recent photos you took, really cool. Think you left some of your ones for art on the hard drive, there was a random shot of some leaf in the middle of Ross’ closeups.” Sadie shakes her head, feeling her eyes roll involuntarily. “I mean it was a good leaf photo, I just don’t think it’s our vibe.” Her head is thrown back in a giggle as she takes another sip of her coke.

“You should consider yourself lucky, getting to see my leaf photos. They are very close to my heart.” All Matty can do at this is scoff, he is now the one rolling his eyes. Sadie’s attention is diverted by a sheet of paper being waved in her face. She turns to George with a slight glare, and he backs into himself a bit. “Fine. What do you not understand? It’s just English.”

“I just don’t get it. English doesn’t make sense, I think you’ve forgotten that I am a well-travelled man, Sadie. I’ve been all over the place.” Sadie fixes the boy with a sigh, a straight-faced sigh. She lets his sentence linger in the air as she readjusts on the bedroom floor. She lays on her front as she reads what George has written. It’s not bad, but it’s also not great. And so, she tells him such.

“I mean, it’s not bad, but it’s not great. You could maybe, I don’t know, sprinkle in an adjective here or there, don’t think that would hurt.” Is all she manages to get out before a pillow is lobbed, quite forcefully, at her head. In retaliation she throws the paper back at George. “Well, you can do it yourself then, can’t you?”

“No, no, no! Sadie I didn’t mean it! My hand slipped!”

As the day turned to night the boys gradually left until it was just Matty and Sadie left sitting on his floor, sharing chips that Denise had cooked for them. Sadie put one in her mouth and glanced out the window, noticing it was snowing again, the sigh that came out of her mouth wasn’t meant to sound quite as pathetic as it did. Matty stopped strumming on his guitar and turned to her with furrowed brows, at the sudden silence she met his eyes. “I can’t bike home in this weather.”

“Why did you even bike here in the first place? And why were you crying?” Sadie shakes her head and breaths out a laugh. How does she even answer this? She could be honest, lay her cards on the table, and tell him all about her mum. Or she could be partially honest and tell him that her mum just doesn’t make time for her. Or she could blatantly lie, she’s on her period or something like that. As she weighs up her options she lets out a barely audible hum and Matty cocks his head at her.

“It’s just my mum. She never makes time for me. Refused to give me a lift and I didn’t want to cancel so I biked here. That’s all, I’m okay now, spending time with you guys makes me okay.” Matty’s head falls to rest on Sadie’s shoulder silently. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he just starts strumming the guitar again. A smile rests on Sadie’s slightly pink cheeks as she hums along to the song Matty is playing, she doesn’t know it to name, but she definitely knows it. “I didn’t think I’d actually make friends in high school.” Matty doesn’t say anything for a minute, processing Sadie’s words.

“Of course you were gonna make friends. I think you’re too good to just be our friend, frankly I’m shocked you put up with our bullshit.” Another beat of silence falls upon the pair. “Just come here if your mum’s being a pain, we’ll cheer you right up.” Sadie smiles at this and feels tears brimming her eyes, and she doesn’t know why. At the sudden sound of the door opening Matty lifts her head and Sadie rubs at her eyes.

“Right, Sadie, I’ve just tried phoning your house phone three times to no answer, so the spare room is set up for you, let me know when you pair decide to sleep.” Sadie doesn’t hear much of what Denise said after hearing that her house was phoned three times, and nobody answered. What if something had happened to her? She sighs and smiles up at Denise from the floor, thanking her before picking at the loose pieces of carpet on the floor. When the door shuts, the tears flow. Matty has never been more panicked in his entire life, he thinks. How the fuck do you comfort your crying best friend?!

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and all she can do is sigh. She knows if she speaks it’ll end in even more tears, her voice will refuse to work. She gives in and leans into Matty’s touch, the weather outside is a stark contrast to how she feels under his arm. After a few minutes of her silently crying, she dares a glance up at him and sees him staring at the wall across from him with slightly widened eyes, the sight makes her giggle, breaking him from his trance. He looks down at her and joins in the laughter, not knowing why they’re laughing but glad she’s not crying as hard anymore. Yet his eyes widen again when she stops laughing and opens her mouth.

“I want to know why they don’t care about me. I haven’t done anything.” Matty sighs at this, a sick part of his brain wishes he could relate just so he’d know what to say. He looks down at Sadie who is now lying on his floor, upside down from where he sits. He lays down next to her, top and tail, both teenagers looking up at the ceiling, feeling things too big for them to even comprehend, things they shouldn’t have to feel. “Sorry, I feel like the mood is ruined.”

“What mood? You’ve been off all day, making me feel sad. I wish I could make it better.”

“I wish you could, too.”

Sadie has no desire to celebrate her 15th birthday that following Summer. But she’s been faced with no choice. In George’s words they “had to because you only turn 15 once.” George had turned 15 earlier that year and didn’t seem to share that sentiment on his birthday, all they did was go to Matty’s house after school and sit in his living room for six hours. But he was insistent that the group had to go out for dinner, he’d gotten Denise on his side which ultimately led to Sadie agreeing. Her mother wasn’t best pleased, but she’d grown to not care, and her mothers grown to know she can’t fight her anymore.

She got dressed in rapid speed, desperate to get out of the house and reunite with her best friends. She hadn’t even gotten as much as a card from her parents and that says more to her than any words could have, she isn’t even sure they know her birthday is today. Pulling on her jeans, probably quicker than the speed of light, she grabs her jacket and runs down the stairs, she shouts a bye to anyone who cares and hops on her bike to Matty’s house. They’re all meeting there for some big surprise before they go out to dinner.

The August sun is beaming down on her face, she pauses and squints up at the sky and notices how blue it is, she smiles and looks back down at her bike. She decides that draping her jacket over the handlebars is a better idea, her backpack is half on her back because she was in such a rush. When she bikes the familiar back road she takes note of how the trees have turned from pathetic twigs to bright green scenery, she shuts her eyes for a second and let the Summer air infiltrate her lungs. She is grateful to be alive.

When she biked round the corner at the end of Matty’s road she could see all the boys engaged in a water fight, her urge to turn right back around grows stronger the closer she gets, George’s pathetic screams and Matty’s maniacal laughter grow louder, and she can’t help but laugh to herself. She hears Denise scolding Ross for going too rough and shakes her head as she throws her bike down on the driveway, climbing off and running away from all the boys who immediately turn on her with their water attacks. “Hey!! Stop, it’s my birthday!”

George laughs louder than Sadie had ever heard someone laugh before, probably because the boys weren’t targeting him anymore. She squeals and tries to run into the house, but Adam blocks the door, and she feels more water shooting at the back of her head. She hits his chest and tells him to move at least fifty times, but he doesn’t budge so she runs. She runs round the house to the back garden where she knows Matty keeps the water guns, just as she suspected there’s a pile of them, half-full, on the grass. Sure, they’re the shit ones, but they’ll do the job.

She hears a gasp behind her. “She’s found the pile, run.” She laughs and whips herself around, gun in each hand, to the pathetic squeals of four boys who run back around to the front of the house. There’s a knock on the kitchen window which distracts Sadie for a second, she sees Denise waving wildly at her, she waves back and sees her saying “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and runs round the house to get the boys back.

A half hour later Denise calls out the front door for them to come in. They all race into the house, Matty being shoved by George and Sadie laughing so hard she stops in her tracks. She gets stopped in her tracks even further when she sees the pile of gifts under the TV. She gasps quietly and barely hears everyone wishing her a happy birthday in unison, the tears pricking her eyes are stinging the back of her throat. This is the most anyone’s done for her birthday. George puts an arm round her shoulder and shakes her slightly, then slightly shoves her to the presents. “Save the one with the pink wrapping paper for last.”

Sadie’s bottom lip wobbles and she lets out an exasperated laugh. “Guys, this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.” She moves towards the gifts as if they’re going to jump out and scare her. She sees the three cards on the top and picks them up, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV. The boys, Denise, Tim, and Louis are all scattered across the couches and the floor too, just watching. She opens the one from Denise, Tim, and Louis first and smiles through teary eyes at the kind words written on the page. She has the same reaction to the other two cards, one from all the boys, one from just Matty.

After a while Sadie’s face is wet with tears, she’d laughed at some of the funny gifts, and with her new necklace round her neck she looked at the last gift, the pink one, cautiously. “Is it alive? Am I gonna be scared?” Matty laughs and shakes his head. She lifts it into her lap and looks at the tag, it reads that it’s from the boys. Before she opens it Denise cuts in.

“They all saved up for this on their own. Came up with the idea and everything.” Sadie looks to the group of boys on the other couch who all look very smug, she rolls her eyes at their faces and turns back to the gift. She carefully unwraps it and can’t help the sob that comes out of her mouth. The new Sony camera is sitting in front of her. When she gets hold of herself she opens the box and gasps at the sight of it. “Guys, oh my god. I can’t take this, you’re kidding.”

“Well, none of us know how to use it.” Sadie tackles the four of them into her arms, jumping on top of them all on the couch, muttering a hundred thank yous under her breath. She doesn’t even know how the boys managed to afford it, maybe some of Matty’s odd jobs he was doing helped, or Ross’ job down at the shop. She didn’t know, but she knew she would never forget this. Sadie felt that same feeling again from earlier. She was grateful to be alive.

By the time Matty’s 18th rolls around, the rest of the group have a plan. They’ve all saved up enough money to buy tickets to Leeds festival, and they’ve all chipped in to get one for Matty’s birthday. Sadie wasn’t allowed to go before, but Denise gave in this year and let her tag along with the group. She makes all of the parental decisions for Sadie now, since she pretty much lives at the Healy’s house. Denise’s reasoning was that it would be after her 17th birthday, deeming her old enough to go. Matty, Ross, Adam and Jamie had gone last year but all they had talked about when they came back to Sadie and George was how excited they were to go next year, the full group.

Ross, George and Sadie were currently sat in Matty’s back garden, waiting for Matty and Adam to get home from work. Sadie and Ross were sharing a cigarette and talking about the lineup for Leeds. More like arguing. George was observing with a cigarette of his own, he’d only spared one to the duo because he’s stingy. “No, Sadie. Nine Inch Nails are more exciting than the fucking Smashing Pumpkins. Think of it, you’re in a muddy field what would you rather listen to.”

Sadie looks at him like he’d grown a second head. “The Smashing Pumpkins.” Ross just groans, George laughs loudly. “What?! I would!”

“You’re actually fucked in the head, Sadie. George, please back me up.” He passes the cig back to Sadie who takes it and looks at George with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his coke and looks away from the pair, whistling at the sky. Sadie laughs and passes the cigarette back to Ross. He tells her to finish it, so she does.

“No, to be fair to both of you, I’d rather be at Paramore. If I had to choose.” Sadie and Ross both share a look and collapse into each other laughing.

“Okay, one, Paramore is on Sunday, we’re talking about Friday. And two, they weren’t even in the equation to begin with.” Ross nods at Sadie’s words and George just sticks his middle finger up at the pair, who laugh at him again. They hear the back door opening and turn to see Matty, they shut up about their prior argument quite quickly. The trio share a look and have to hide their laughs.

“Hello boys. And Sadie.” They nod up at Matty who cracks open his coke and pours it over the ice in his glass. He looks at the three that have gone silent and squints his eyes slightly before taking a sip of his coke and lighting a cig. Sadie looks at the other two who are giving her looks as if to say, “Say something.”

She turns back to Matty, who turns to her. “How was work?” George lets out a barely audible groan and she looks at him incredulously. Matty nods around his glass and then kind of shakes his head.

“It was okay, not busy, boring. I like it there, though.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome for getting you that job. I’ve been there for like a year now. Remember when I walked in one day and George was just standing in the kitchen? That was stupid.” George laughs at her and she turns to him. “No, I was so confused.”

“I was working, where did you want me to stand?”

“It would’ve been nice to know you were working at the fucking place?” George shakes his head.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Some surprise that is, George!” He, yet again, sticks his middle finger up at her. This time she does it back. Matty scoffs and leans his head back with a sigh, he stretches his arms and one of them comes to rest on the back of the bench behind Sadie.

She points up at the sky, the sun is setting behind the clouds which cast a pink hue down on the group of four. They stay outside until the sun is probably in the middle of the sky in Australia. Adam arrives not long after Matty and Sadie gives him a subtle nod and thumbs up, trying to tell him that they got the Leeds tickets today. He looks confused at first, but he gets it after a minute. When Matty goes inside the four speak in whispers about how they have to tell Matty, because George is unable to keep it a secret. The back door swings open again and the four sit up straight. “Right, you guys are hiding something from me.” Sadie can’t help herself.

“We’re going to Leeds.”

Leeds was a fucking nightmare. Everyone fought. Everyone made up. Then they fought again. They all got so high they probably couldn’t see. Ross and Sadie ended up seeing Nine Inch Nails together after losing everyone else, and despite being in the clouds, Sadie remembered to act like she didn’t want to be there. Until she actually started enjoying herself. And George got to see Paramore. Almost. He passed out and Sadie shouted at him in the medical tent after he just came to because she was missing out, she was forced to take him to the medical tent.

Sadie was sick on some girl’s shoes at the Kings of Leon set. It was her, George and Adam having the time of their lives until some older girl started flirting with George, obviously he was loving it, but Sadie was already having a bad high and when she saw the way that girl was looking at George she just couldn’t help it! It all kicked off when George and the girl teamed up and tried to fight her. George was forced to take her to medical and as she was thrown over his shoulder he was yelling about how she’d ruined the weekend.

Safe to say the drive home was silent. Matty had the biggest hangover behind the wheel and Ross was cradling Sadie in the backseat as if she were his child, George was practically hanging out the window on the other side of Sadie. The one memory she has in the car is when they were all sat on the grass, ages away from any music, when Matty turned to the boys and said, “Reckon we’ll be on one of these stages soon?” The question was ringing through Sadie’s mind.

A few days later the group were all sat in Matty’s garden (like usual) with drinks in hand, reminiscing on the festival after they’d all taken some much needed time away from each other. Anytime Matty’s eyes caught hers she felt her heart stop. She isn’t sure he remembers but the day after they got back Sadie jolted awake with a vision of her kissing Matty. She doesn’t know when or if it actually happened, but it seemed too real to be something she conjured up in the middle of the night. Ever since, she’ll wake up in a cold sweat with visions of Matty’s lips on hers. She remembers it being a life-changing kiss, though, so there’s that at least.     

Sadie makes a point to be the last to leave Matty’s house, she’ll probably end up sleeping here tonight, like usual. It’s a rare sight to see Sadie sleeping in her own bed these days, it probably occurs once a month at most. When Adam shuts the door behind him, Sadie feels her heart fall out of her ass, the silence is less than comfortable. If she can feel the shift in energy surely Matty can. He sits down beside her and turns to her. “Do you remember?”

Sadie feels like she’s died in her seat. Her eyes have practically fallen out onto the dining table. She spins her glass on the table awkwardly, thinking of what to say. What would he say if she lied? Would he pretend it never happened? She decides not to lie, because when his face is as close to hers as it is right now, she thinks she’d like to kiss him again. “Yeah… Do you?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, hmm?” Sadie feels like her 14 year old self, meeting him for the first time. Her face is flushed pink, she’s picking at the tracksuit bottoms on her thighs, and she’s avoiding eye contact. She wishes the ground would eat her alive, because one thing about Sadie is she doesn’t know how to flirt. “Hurt me seeing you kiss that other guy the next day.” As he says this his hand has come up to play with the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the front of her ponytail. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice is no louder than a mutter.

“Sorry, didn’t know what I was doing, don’t even think I knew where I was.” Matty laughs softly at this and looks down at his lap, but his eyes catch Sadie’s nervously picking at the loose thread on the seam of her tracksuit. He feels his heart skip a beat as he grabs it. This makes her face him, looking into his eyes. The silence around them is suffocating and Sadie feels like she might pass out on the floor. When he makes the move to shuffle slightly closer, she smirks at his face. She doesn’t know where she grew the confidence but when she mutters, “Just do it.” He breaks the distance.

The butterflies in her stomach feel cliché, the way the kiss picks up in pace feels even more so. His lips on hers feels like coming home to your own bed after you’ve been abroad for a week. It feels like the smell of your own house after being away for a while. She knows that when her hand comes up to the back of his neck that it holds an ulterior motive, this is confirmed by his hand on her hip, guiding her closer. She wants to consume him in this moment. When they break away for a breather, Sadie doesn’t open her eyes, she doesn’t want to face this moment, but when she feels a squeeze on her hip she can’t help but open one eye. Matty laughs and leans his forehead to hers.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” That’s all that Sadie has ever wanted to hear.

The slight fling between Sadie and Matty didn’t really last for very long. The group all moved into a flat together and the flame between them just kind of flickered out. George noticed the change in Sadie’s demeanour ever since. He was the only other person who knew about Matty and Sadie, but because he was the best friend of both he had to be there for both. It was eating him alive. He was laying in Sadie’s bedroom, joint between his lips. They were sharing it.

“He fucks anything with legs. But I can’t move on. What’s with that?” Sadie plucked the joint from George’s mouth, and he rubs his eyes his face with a groan. He watches the smoke leaving Sadie’s lips intensely, staring at the way it clouds up in the air and dissipates into nothingness, this is how Sadie and Matty’s relationship felt. He sits up slightly on the bed with an indignant sigh.

“His way of coping, I suppose. He didn’t exactly get an explanation as to why you stopped sleeping in his room. Now he just needs someone sleeping there to fill that void for him.” It’s Sadie’s turn to sigh now. She knows George is right, but she doesn’t like the answer and she doesn’t want to hear that he’s suffering. He’s being a bitch and he should just come and speak to her. Silence falls over the duo and George stubs out the joint gently before opening his arms for Sadie.

She isn’t feeling very grateful to be alive.

#my babies !!!!!! #they're free in the world. #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #writing #matty healy fic

[vex91]

Hanni Pham - Not so secret crush

Pairing: Hanni Pham x Female Reader

Fandom: NewJeans

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: can you write a fluffy oneshot where Hanni is a big fan of One Direction (Idk the fandom 😭) and the Reader is a Taylor Swift fan and they dedicate 'Perfect' and 'Style' to each other or something like this? Also, sorry for my writing, English is not my first language and I used the translator 😭

Summary: No one expected Hanni to dedicate a love song for you but what was an even bigger shock is you doing the same.

A/N: A request for my NewJeans's bias wrecker is always welcomed, also me as a Swiftie reading this request🤭 Thanks for requesting <3

3rd's POV

"In our studio today NewJeans, welcome" The interviewer smiled and bowed at the girls which they reciprocated. Today NewJeans had an interview for one of the most popular radio shows in Korea where they came to promote their upcoming album. That day Hanni was in a very happy mood that was noticed by the other members and even though they were curious as to what happened to her to get her in such a good mood, they decided to just leave it be and be happy that she was happy.

The reason for Hanni's sudden happiness was the fact that that day was the release of your solo album and as your biggest fan she couldn't wait to get back to their dorm and listen to it. Truthfully Hanni was your fan ever since you debuted in IVE and was constantly supporting you ever since then and when she finally debuted, all she could think about was that now she had a chance to meet you in person and maybe talk for a bit. Honestly she wished that she could be with you together as a couple but it seemed impossible for her, especially since you guys weren't even friends.

That's what often saddened her, despite talking a few times during music shows and stuff she couldn't call it a friendship. At least you knew she existed and even complimented her and her group a few times which caused her to make a big deal out of it, not letting her members forget about it for the rest of that day. She was just completely into you.

The interview continued just like always and everything was completely peaceful until one question came up "So, is there any idol you want to dedicate any song to?" The question was unexpected but didn't bothered the girls and when it was finally Hanni's turn she looked into the camera and decided to just go for it "Well a lot of my fans might already know that I was a huge One Direction fan before so I want to dedicate "Perfect" by them for IVE's Y/N-sunbaenim" This left everyone surprised by the choice of the song and an idol since no one there expected Hanni to just dedicate a love song for another idol.

Minji slapped Hanni's shoulder before laughing along with her and somehow they managed to change everyone's attention from Hanni and to Danielle who was the last one to answer the question. Still that didn't changed the fact that their fans had the best day with this one clip and the next day yours and Hanni's names were trending all over social media and despite her being pretty bold in that moment, later she was stressed because she wasn't sure how you would react.

And then you had a solo interview there with the same person who interviewed NewJeans and they decided to use the opportunity and ask you the same question "So Y/N, is there any idol you want to dedicate any song to?" You smiled when the question was asked, already knowing how to answer this "Yeah I do actually. So I saw a clip of NewJeans's Hanni dedicating 'Perfect' to me and by the way great song choice because I love it. That's why I want to dedicate a song to her and since I'm a huge Taylor Swift fan I'm gonna go with 'Style' " The interviewer chuckled at the situation before he continued the interview.

To say that Hanni was shocked would be an understatement, she had to watch a clip hundreds times before showing it to all her members to make sure that she's hearing it correctly. Just like before the internet went wild with the clips and your names were trending everywhere along with your ship name. People who thought before that something was between you had the time of their lives with the whole situation and it became so big that your companies had to make statements.

"Starship Entertainment denies the rumors surrounding one of their artists, IVE's Lee Y/N and Hybe's artist, NewJeans's Hanni Pham. After confirming the situation with the artists they claim that the relationship between them is only platonic"

Honestly that didn't changed much because despite the statement being released to let people know that there is nothing between you two, everyone are sure that there are some feelings involved.

And truthfully they may be right.

#vex writes #newjeans x reader #newjeans reactions #hanni pham x reader #hanni pham

[l0v3tast3]

organs and hatred alike — part 2

✎ summary: after the 141 men find out makarov is your father, they start questioning you (sorry i suck at summaries lol)

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, hurt/no comfort at all, this is all angst, major daddy issues, not proofread im too cool for that

✎ word count: 1.9k

✎ author's note: tysm everyone who left such nice comments on the last one ily ฅ(´ര ̫ ര`)ฅ !!! i will be making a part 3 for this i promise im sorry i write so slow "(._.`) ྀྀ՞

part 1 . . . masterlist

seconds passed by at the same rate as hours in the cold room, but you didn't really mind. it had given you plenty of time to think.

since kyle had left, you still hadn't moved. at least one of the 141 task force had had their eyes glued to the camera feed from the room you were in for the duration of your time in there.

they all saw the same thing: your hands folded on the table in front of you, wrists still ringed with blood and the handcuffs, and you head bowed towards the table. the slight movement of your back and chest was the only indication you were still alive.

you didn't particularly feel alive at the moment though, much less like any of this was real. it should have felt real to you, because it was and this had happened before more times than you could count on one hand. your father had always been several steps ahead of you it seemed, and this instance was no different.

the irony of the situation was what made it so surreal for you. you had finally caught up to him, gained the upper hand against him, if only for a few fleeting moments. just as quickly as you had climbed, you were knocked down to the same level as him.

and now, you were equals with him. a man who called an ocean of blood his home, a man who had sold humans as easily as farm animals, a man who had crossed every line with a content smile. he was sitting in a room adjacent and identical to your own, in handcuffs just the same as yours.

the universe was making a mockery of you.

when the door had shut behind him, kyle took a look at each of the other three men, each one laden with a sort of grief.

"i think she's telling the truth," kyle spoke. his brows were turned up with worry, a look the others rarely saw on the quiet man.

"doesn't matter," simon grunted. "she still lied to us." his skull-plated mask hid plenty, but his clenched fists and stiff stature spoke for themselves.

"did she say anything else?" john asked, his arms crossed tightly. the mohawked man could barely hold himself still. he had been actively resisting going up to makarov and beating him until he was unrecognizable for too long now.

"you heard everything i did," kyle said while he shook his head.

price, who had been silently watching you through the camera since you had been thrown in the room, finally moved from his spot towards makarov's room. without a word, he opened the door and stepped in, letting it slam shut heavily behind him.

he came out an hour later, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. simon had stayed in the room, his eyes shifting between each camera feed, while john had went to take a walk to try to cool off and kyle tried to find laswell.

price stood beside simon, tucking the red-stained handkerchief back into his belt and looked at the camera pointed to your unmoving figure.

"so, which one do you think is telling the truth?" price asked.

"i don't trust a word he says," simon grunted with a hand waved in makarov's general direction.

"you trust her?"

simon didn't say anything. instead, it was his turn to silently head into a room, yours this time.

he sat down in the chair across from you, his gigantic frame making it look almost comically small. he kept his hands on his thighs, instinctively near his weapons.

you were still sitting as you had been, your loose hair covering most of your face. he could see your hooded eyes focused on nothing. you both sat in silence while he waited for you to show any sign of consciousness.

simon decided five minutes was long enough. "why didn't you shoot him?"

you blinked; it was the most acknowledgement he'd gotten so far.

"why... didn't i shoot him?" you murmured hoarsely after a few moments.

he said your name sternly, repeating his question back to you again.

your blurry vision shifted to the empty gun holster on your thigh. they had made sure to quickly take your weapons from you while dragging you into the room.

why hadn't you shot him?

you had been covered head to toe in the blood of his men, equipped with over a dozen different weapons when price had originally hooked the handcuffs on him. your finger was resting beside the trigger of your automatic rifle, inches away from being aimed at his head. why hadn't you shot him there?

and when they had sent you in to talk to him, why hadn't you shot him then? you could have pressed the barrel of your handgun against his head before anyone could have opened the door to the room. you could still feel the cold skin of his neck on your fingertips, burning like you had dipped your hands in acid.

"i was scared," you finally admitted, barely whispering. the confession stung your throat; you wanted to grab the words out of the air and swallow them back down as soon as you closed your mouth.

"of what?"

"you. the others."

simon remembered the first time he had seen you.

the look in your eyes had been eerily familiar, and it didn't take him long to recognize it in his own mirror. you had closed yourself off, barely speaking a word, never showing your face. just like him.

it was why he had avoided you for so long, never relenting when price would tell him that he had to at least get along with you or when soap and gaz would attempt to bring you both closer. he only ever spoke brief sentences to you, never asked you anything personal. he kept it distant and professional.

at some point, he had apparently let you in closer to his heart than he had ever planned, because your admittance of your fear of him made something he could only say was dread pierce his heart.

"what did he say?" you muttered. simon stayed quiet. "i could hear price beating him."

despite everything, it hadn't brought you any joy to hear your captain's fist connecting with your father's face, or to hear him grunt and fall to the floor through the wall. you had thought your lack of joy was odd until you realized it was because it wasn't you in price's place.

"said you and him have been workin' together."

something welled up in your throat, and you thought it was more tears, but then you were laughing. tiny giggles turned into you practically cackling, tossing your head back and pressing your hands to your stomach. it was the hardest simon had ever seen you laugh.

"oh my god, ahaha, he- hehe, he told you what?" you spat out between heaving for breath. "he really- he actually said we were working together?" after a few seconds, you weren't laughing anymore. your hands rested back on the table and you hunched over again.

"he must really, really want me dead now."

"why does he want you dead?"

"because i'm proof he exists." you stared back at him as he had been since walking in, and simon almost reached up to make sure his mask was still on.

you knew that as long as you were alive, makarov wouldn't be able to disappear if he needed to, as much as he tried. he had learned that lesson already in the endless circles you chased around each other. you both knew that neither of you would die until the other caught up.

"makarov is lying to you, why wouldn't he be?" you continued.

"you lied to us."

you paused for a few moments. you had lied to them, countless times. just how similar to your father had you turned out without realizing?

"this task force was the only chance i had left." your words were quiet again, like a child who had been caught breaking the rules. if a fog of regret hadn't settled over your thoughts, you would think of yourself as pitiful.

"you knew we hated him too. why didn't you tell us that much?"

"you would have had questions. i couldn't answer them without telling you everything else."

"you're answering them now."

"i don't have a choice now, do i?" simon could see the frustration slowly replacing the sullen look in your eyes.

"you backed yourself into this corner, didn't you?" he said, keeping his voice slow and calm.

you had.

it was your choice to lie. it was your choice to put on the mask. it was your choice to cover up your accent, to change your name. how many names had you taken now? it had been so long, it took more than a few moments to remember the one given to you first. but was that really you that had been given that name?

your eyes weren't the same as the child that you saw in your memories. your nose and your lips and your skin stayed the same, but your eyes showed what was etched underneath, what replaced the marrow of your bones.

you knew there was no point in wishing to go back, but what was there left for you to do? what would you have done differently? who would you have been honest to?

looking up at simon, you realized the lies had never been necessary. his mask left his most vulnerable feature uncovered, a contradiction to the symbol his being held. such an unreadable force, baring his soul freely under a threadbare cover. his soul looked back at you and asked you once again why you had done this.

you ignored the question.

"what are you going to do with him?"

"get as much as we can out of him. charge him." he said after a few seconds.

"is that what you're doing with me?"

simon crossed his arms. "dunno yet."

silence blanketed the room again. you choked on it until more words came up.

"do you think i turned out like him?"

your utterance made your stomach turn, made rocks smother your heart and crush your lungs. it was the question you'd never given voice to, but had always held under your tongue.

he ignored the question.

"do you?"

you looked down at the handcuffs again and almost vomited. swallowing down the acid, you began to slowly shake your head back and forth.

"he- he took everything, simon, everything from me," you stuttered, your throat tightening and your voice straining. "and it's not even about me. he's a fucking terrorist."

you remembered watching him smile while he stood in front of a burning apartment building, still full of it's residing families. you had just barely managed to slip out of his lackey's grasp while he puffed out his chest with pride at his newest "advancement".

"this is about you," simon leaned forward. "this is about you not telling us what you knew about him."

"simon, i'll tell you everything, i swear, just let me out of here. just let me kill him," you pleaded. the hollowness of your chest was starting to spread, and you were becoming restless again. the urgency you had felt earlier was pouring back in, like floodgates crumbling.

he paused for a few seconds. "fine," he snarled.

then his hand was wrapped around your wrist, yanking you up and pulling you with him. he let go once you stumbled forward around the table, but you stopped dead in your tracks once he opened the door. was he serious?

"well?" he growled, looking back at you, waiting impatiently for your decision.

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[xxnghtclls]

Permission

Chapter 33

(Chapter 32; Chapter 34)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags!

The Chosen One

”No.” he sneers his lips at you, before he turns on his heels and starts walking back to the shrine.

“What do you mean “no”?” you imitate his voice, as you tap after him. “They’re celebrating you.”

He doesn’t respond, just waving his hand at you in a dismissing way. You gather some speed and grab his bottom left hand. He stops and throws you a pissed glance.

“Maybe they have food?” you ask carefully. He doesn’t answer. “Seasoned… meat?” you try to be as cute as possible, giving him doe eyes. “Please?”

The corners of his lips twitch in a suppressed grin, before he rolls his eyes at you and wordlessly walks back into your direction.

Yes!

Happiness spreads in your chest, as he walks past you. You don’t let go of his hand, feeling the soft skin of his palm against your tiny fingers, before you notice his nails. Your eyes widen in horror, letting go of them as if they’re poisonous, as you remember the trails your very own nails left on his exposed back. Blood pumps into your ears and cheeks.

“What about your back? They’re gonna-“

“We’re going!” he interrupts your nervous blabbering in a serious tone, while he keeps walking.

Fuck!

You nervously bite the insides of your cheeks, thinking about the consequences of your actions.

Everyone’s gonna see it.

You slam your hand against your forehead, while following your King through the forest a few steps behind him.

The music turns louder and louder, the more you approach the village. Different scents crawl into your nose, smoke, meat, fish, sweets. The sky turns yellow from the torches and lights that are illuminating the scene. Trees turn into silhouettes, as you finally see a big festival happening between them. After a few more steps, you leave the forest and… you’re there.

Standing to the right of Sukuna, your eyes grow wide, looking everywhere. There’s food, musicians, dancers, lanterns. People are celebrating, drinking and eating.

“Oh dear.” you snort as you spot some kind of statue standing on an altar, having four arms and an angry grin. It looks like a goblin.

“Yea.” he sneers, visibly not pleased about the lack of resemblance and obviously not seeing this kind of homage to him for the first time.

“THE KING! THE KING HIMSELF!” suddenly a voice from a man echoes through the scene. You notice Sukuna rolling his eyes, before he turns to where the voice comes from.

The man runs to the both of you. It’s the same man who begged for help in the audience. You lower your gaze, as soon as you recognise him.

“PLEASE! Your majesty…” he says, before you see him nodding at you in the corner of your eye “…and company. Please be our guests! Drink and eat and celebrate as much as you like!”

“Get lost.” Sukuna says and the man looses the colour on his face, chuckles insecurely, bows down and steps away again, making your King huff. He leans down to your ear.

“Good girl.” he mumbles, before he starts to walk into the crowd. Your cunt responds with a tingle to his words, while your cheeks proudly paint themself in a dark shade of red, before you start to follow him.

The music is very rhythmic, heroic drums reach your ears and you love it. It suits him.

You make your way through the people, aiming for a booth where meat is prepared. As you walk, you notice a lot of the people admiring Sukuna. Women, too. Some start to whisper and giggle to each other whenever they see his back.

Hhhhhhggg

Ears as red as fire, you lower your head even more and want to sink into the ground. Sukuna notices your shame.

“See? They like my little souvenir.” he smirks.

“It doesn’t help that you’re twice as tall as everyone else here. Everyone can see what I’ve done to you.” you complain. He chuckles, obviously enjoying your shame more than you wish.

“So dramatic.” he coos.

“How do you feel being ripped into shreds by a mere mortal like me?” your dramatic tone increases. “Those flesh wounds must hurt.”

“It’s fine.” he says, before stopping you in your tracks and leaning down and whispering at your face. “A keepsake, reminding me of how good I fucked you.”

Why did I ask him to come here?

Your heart flutters heavily at his words. Wetness pooling once again between your thighs. He cocks his eyebrow and takes a sniff, before a shit eating grin forms on his mouth.

“I see, you agree with me.”

Asshole.

“Master Sukuna!” a familiar voice appears behind you. Sukuna doesn’t react, keeps grinning into your embarrassed eyes for a second, before he raises his head again.

“Uraume.” he says, you and him nodding to them, as they lower their head.

“I didn’t expect you here, y/n.” they say, before they turn to Sukuna. “I almost had the impression you wouldn’t attend the festivities this time, Master Sukuna.”

“I had some urgent business to attend first.” he says casually, as if that urgent business didn’t mean that he fucked your brain to mush. Sukuna turns around and continues his way to the meat booth. You don’t dare to look at Uraume, yet feel them looking at you, as you bite your lips.

They start to walk past you and follow Sukuna and you tipple after them.

You arrive at the booth and the cook offers you three small plates of delicious smelling meat along with three small bowls of fresh rice. Although you’re starving, you don’t want to be rude and wait until Sukuna takes one of the plate along with the chopsticks.

I’ve never seen him eat with chopsticks before.

He looks at you and then to the plates, wordlessly ordering you to take one of them, before he takes a bite. You take it, bowing to the cook in gratitude, before you try the food. A wholesome feeling shoots through you, as you taste the incredible well seasoned pork on your tongue. Uraume denies the food.

“You instructed the cook well.” Sukuna says after swallowing the last slice of his plate, before he takes Uraumes portion.

“Thank you, Master Sukuna. Enjoy your meal. I will now excuse myself and see you later.” they bow their head “Y/n.” Then they vanish back into the crowd.

“I had the impression you never ate prepared meat before I cooked it for you in the woods. Why do you keep eating it raw?” you question him. He cocks his eyebrow at you.

“I never said I didn’t.” he smirks with a voice that melts in your ears. “Uraume cooks it best, but they have other business to do.” he keeps munching. “Those other bitches can’t cook, so I rather take it raw.”

You hum at his answer… and feel so happy about his insult.

Bitches.

“Mhmm.” you pick up your second slice about to eat it. “… how do you refer to me when I’m not around?” you tease him. His smirk grows wider, the wrinkles on his eyes increasing, as he keeps chewing, focused on his now empty second plate.

God.

He looks so good.

Your King doesn’t answer, instead he steals the last slice of meat on your plate with his chopsticks and shoves it in his mouth.

“Oy!” you exclaim. You don’t like sharing food when you’re hungry.

Asshole.

“Don’t “oy” me, Princess.” he grins at you, intimidating in a way, before he casually leaves the booth you were standing at. You hastily shove some rice into your mouth, thank the cook again, before you follow him through the crowd.

People are everywhere, you have to tipple and excuse your way through the crowd, in order to catch up to him. If he wasn’t so tall, you would’ve lost sight to him by now.

“My King!” you call him, hoping he would hear and wait for you.

Boom!

Another firework flies up into the air behind you. Your attention is caught and your eyes wander up into the sky to see it explode into a million pieces.

“Pretty!” you breathe, while stumbling further into Sukunas direction, not taking your eyes off the vanishing fireworks.

Step.

You bump into him. Face against the skin of his left side.

Ouch.

Apparently he indeed stopped and turned around to wait for you. A dull pain drives through your nose, before you look up to him. He sneers at you, before he turns back around and continues his way.

The scene around you is very loud, not only the chatter and laughter of people, but also the music. You notice the dancers, groups of men and women, each of them holding a sensu in their hand, moving it so elegantly, throwing it into the air and catching it back into their hands, their steps and moves so elegantly but fierce at the same time. On the opposite side of the dancers, you notice another podium. This one offers enough space for a handful of people to stand on it, pillars rise up from the corners, decorated with leaf carrying branches.

“Princess.” his voice interrupts your analysis of the place. You turn to him, only to see him offering you a small ceramic cup.

Sake!

“Oh.” your eyes grow big in curiosity and anxiety at the same time, as you carefully take it with both hands.

It’s warm.

Enjoying the warm feeling on your hands, you think about having never tried it before. You look up to him, seeing him taking a sip already, keeping his bottom pair of eyes fixated on you. Looking back to your own cup, you chew on your lips, while you remember the last time being drunk. His hand reaches your sight, before his index finger delicately pushes against the bottom of your cup. Your hands obey and rise the cup for your mouth.

Despite watching Sukuna before, you swallow it all at once and the warm alcohol burns down your throat, making you cough and your eyes wet. Sukuna watches and rises his eyebrow at you.

“What?” you feel your cheeks already heating up.

“Thirsty.” he sneers.

“How else am I supposed to drink it? The cup’s so tiiiny!” you babble, ignoring what he just said. “It’s all just. Gone.” you emphasise your words, with your hands and eyes.

Sukuna watches your already drunk behaviour with half lidded eyes, as a hungry smirk creeps on his face, before he takes another sip. Your heart squeezes, before the alcohol crawls into your legs. Having not eaten much today, it’s no wonder it spreads in your body quickly.

You place the empty cup on the table Sukuna got it from and ask for another. Your King stands right next to you, watching the crowd and dancers, while you get your next cup. After another sip, you start to feel dizzy.

“I have to sit down somewhere.” you sigh to yourself and start walking to a nearby area, a bit hidden next to the booths where you spotted a bench, leaving Sukuna standing there, not even waiting for his reaction.

You sit down and sigh, as you keep watching the dancers, the cooks in the booths and the flickering in the lanterns. It’s new for you to experience these kinds of things as a normal visitor.

The festivities in your village were way smaller and you never could enjoy what was happening. Either you were not even allowed to go or you had to work behind the scenes.

You kick your feet, while you take another sip. A feeling of contentment spreads in your gut, a feeling of joy and peace. Closing your eyes, you raise your head, as you keep listening to the sounds, as you keep smelling the scents. Your cheeks are tingling, as well as your legs, almost feeling like you’re floating on a boat.

Suddenly you feel someone sit down right next to you. Opening your eyes, you look to your right, ready to lean your head against Sukuna, when you notice: it isn’t Sukuna. You flinch, the picture in front of you is swimming. A young man, which you have not expected sitting there. He smiles at you and your mushy brain tells you to smile back.

“Do you enjoy the festivities?” he seems to be nice and you’re overwhelmed. You nod, before you retrieve your smile and squint at him, not sure what you should say or if you should talk to him at all anyway. He chuckles at your behaviour, his eyes jumping down to your cup of sake and back to your eyes.

“Would you mind to have another dri-“

“You have two seconds.” Sukuna’s threatening voice interrupts him.

The poor man can’t even react in time, before Sukuna just shoves him off that bench and sits down right next to you. Your King throws him a threatening glance, as the man stumbles to the ground and quickly hurries away.

It all happens too fast for your drunk brain, that you just accept what just happened. Sukuna leans forward, supporting himself on his elbows on his thighs, before you softly poke your right index finger into his side. He doesn’t react and you look down to your cup.

“I apologise for leaving you at the booth.” you sigh, fiddling with the ceramic. He throws you a glance over his shoulder, before he turns back forward.

“It’s fine.” he grumbles.

You sigh another time, your brain running circles, before you let your head lean against his side. He stays silent and you know he very much wasn’t pleased seeing your interaction with this man.

“Don’t be mad at me.” you pout, trying to soothe your angry King.

Suddenly a woman steps in front of Sukuna, making you quickly retrieve your head from his side, sitting back straight. As soon as you see the womans face, you blink.

She’s beautiful.

“Master Sukuna” her voice as smooth as butter. “I would like to thank you for your duty as our King.” She kneels down before him, lowers her head and offers him a folded sensu.

You watch how Sukuna watches her and jealousy crawls up your gut. He nods and accepts her gift with a smirk and takes the sensu.

Why did I never make him a gift?

You get angry at yourself.

She gets up again, bows and before she leaves, she leans in and whispers something in his ear, making his smirk grow.

You chug your remaining sake in one angry go.

After she’s gone, Sukuna fiddles with the sensu, folding it open, revealing a beautiful red and blue pattern, feeling the material, before he closes it again.

Enough.

You turn away.

“How do you like it?” he mumbles, referring to the hand fan.

“It’s fine.” you grumble. “I hope it will provide you the coooldest breeze.”

You hear him huff softly behind your back, before the sensu reaches your eyesight. Looking at it and back to Sukuna, he motions it to you.

“Take it.” he says, making you frown.

“It’s yours.” you sneer, your vision still blurry.

“Now it’s a gift for you.” his voice suddenly smooth in contrast to his grumpy attitude from before. You blink and take the sensu, your fingers brushing against his in the process, before you turn your back to him again.

“Don’t you wanna know what she told me?” he teases you.

“Did she ask you to come visit her in her chambers?” the alcohol keeps burning on your cheeks, your vision keeps swimming.

He grabs you by your chin and harshly turns your face around to him. After a second of just looking at you, he whispers.

“She told me how pretty the woman is who is sitting right next to me.” his eyes dancing between your eyes and lips, as the hungry smirk crawls back into his face. “And she’s right... Do you have any idea how pretty you look with those eyes of yours?”

Your face flushes red, drunk ears listening to his words, being not the words that you expected to hear.

“The way I have to contain myself to not drag you up that podium and fuck you for everyone to see. For everyone and that stupid little bastard from earlier to see, that you’re mine and only mine. How dares he speaking to you just like that?”

Pressing your thighs together at his words, you sigh into his hold, almost melting into his hold, as another batch of fireworks starts shooting.

“Do it.” your shy cheeks are burning and your cunt is tingling, his possessive behaviour so hot to you. His lip twitches at your words.

“Don’t tempt me.” he hisses.

Boom!

“What about a kiss then?” you tease, making him cock his eyebrow at you. Your voice turns seductive. “…I bet you’re not even brave enough to kiss me in the middle of the crowd.”

His lip twitches once again and you just stare at him for a second, before you stand up, your jaw leaving his grip. You walk back into the celebrating crowd, swaying your hips with every step. It doesn’t take long, before you feel his huge presence go after you. Step by step, you walk between the people, while he’s walking a few meters behind you, like a predator sneaking up behind its prey.

Step by step.

Boom!

The alcohol in your blood makes situation this so exciting, the wetness between your thighs so dripping.

Suddenly someone bumps into you. You stumble to your right, making you loose your sensu.

Quickly you kneel down, but Sukuna grabs it first. Standing back up, you see the excitement in his eyes, his pupils blown so wide, eager to prove you otherwise, as he kneels right in front of you. With one swing of his hand, he folds the fan open and places it next to your cheek, covering one side of your face. Sukuna gently holds your chin with his upper left hand and leans in.

Boom!

Everyone around you looks up to the biggest explosion of this evening. A beautiful shrine like pattern paints the sky, as his lips gently find yours. Heart skips a beat, as you reach for his hand that’s holding the sensu. Hiding below the lights and behind the fan, his lips glide so smoothly against yours. Your breath is knocked out of you, as his tongue licks against yours, before he breaks the kiss again.

“You lost.” he breathes with a grin against your lips and you don’t care. A smile spreads on your face, as he leans back and you drown in his eyes, the reflections of the fading lights in the sky sparkling in them.

A loving feeling overwhelms you and you jump forward, letting your arms fall around his neck. You almost lose balance, before you feel him putting his hand against the small of your back.

“Do you have any idea how pretty you look with those eyes of yours, my love?” you sigh into his ear, squeezing him tight. He purrs and you feel his nails dig into your back, before you realise what you just said, as suddenly the drums grow loud.

Bong. Bong. Bong.

You flinch, quickly retracting your arms from his neck.

In a steady pace, they keep drumming, while Sukuna loosens his grip on you and rises back to his feet. People are already looking at the both of you and you quickly unfold the sensu and hide your face behind it. Heat rises to your face, still embarrassed about what you just called him, before a loud voice echoes through your ears.

“King Ryomen Sukuna! Please be our guest and come up here! Enjoy the ceremony!”

Bong. Bong. Bong.

His eyes pierce into your for one more second, before he turns around and makes his way to the podium. Quickly fanning yourself some air, you step aside, as people gather behind you with goods in their hands.

You watch him climbing up the few stairs that lead up to the wooden podium and sitting down on it’s surface. Uraume walks up and comes to a halt right next to him. A servant walks by and throws a black cape over his shoulders.

Bong. Bong. Bong.

Silence.

The drums stopped, only the crackle of the torches reach your ear.

“Your Majesty! Please accept our gifts of goodwill and gratitude. You blessed us with peace and fortune, we will be forever in your debt.” the man says, while people build a queue and start to carry their goods to the podium. Crops, fruits, dried meat, jewellery, fabrics. You watch them, one by one take a step forward and bow to him, laying their gifts at the bottom of the stairs. Uraume is waiting patiently with a lowered gaze. People around you watch the ceremony in a reverent manner, like he’s a god. You seek his gaze, his face rather stoic, even a bit intimidating and bothered, before you notice that the eyes of his mask are looking into your direction.

To you.

As soon as you realise, you smile and bow your head to your King as well. After a moment you raise your head back up, only to see him break eye contact with you and focus on the people in front of him. One after another lay their precious possessions at the feet of your King. After roughly half an hour, you notice a group of five young women forming at the end of the queue. They are all pretty looking and nervousness spreads in your gut, as you remember the words the bitch told you.

A prize.

They follow the queue, until the last person carefully laid down their gift to the bottom of the stairs.

“Now that we offered you our gratitude, please honour us and choose a woman! A woman suitable for a King.” the man comments, while the women gather up in front of the podium.

No! No No No No No!

She’s not right. She’s not right.

You look to Sukuna, his eyes fixated on them and only them. All of the women have their head lowered, standing so religious in front of him. Your breath grows nervous. Everyone looks at your King in suspense, before Sukuna raises his head, staring at each of them. After a moment on contemplation, he opens his mouth a little and licks his teeth, a smirk crawling onto his lips. He looks hungry.

No! Not again!

Being a prize is better than being garbage.

Your heart is beating in your throat, as you watch the fingers of his hand that’s been resting on his left knee fiddle with each other and you notice his bottom right eye looking at you for a second. After a moment, he raises his index finger to point at the one in the middle.

The people applaud and cheer.

“A wonderful choice. May she serve you for her lifetime. Who knows, maybe even as a Queen?” the man chuckles, while the woman steps forward onto the podium.

Nausea comes over you and you feel like you need to throw up.

“Excuse me.” you say to the people around you, while you quickly leave the event, heart beating out of your chest.

The bitch can’t be right…

You hurry in between the houses standing close to the forest, away from the people and spew on the ground. Coughing and shaking, you don’t know what to do or feel.

“She can’t be right.” you mumble. “He’s not bored of me. I’m not garbage…” you chant to yourself, trying to reset your brain from the low self esteem you’re feeling.

Heartache.

“Your majesty, we do have a lot more to offer y-…uh?” you hear the man say in the distance, as you throw up another time. You stare at the ground in a delirium, while holding on to the side of the house to your left.

You hate that you’re feeling like this, despite how sweetly he acted towards you this whole evening. Her words messed up your brain.

“Oy, Princess!” the voice you love comes up behind you.

Your face feels numb from the anxiety, but you try to overplay it.

“Just got sick from the sake I guess.” you say, before spitting.

He knows when I lie to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be up there.” you complain to distract him from the situation.

He looks at you for a second, before he grabs your wrist and drags you back into the forest.

“What are you-?”

“We’re leaving.” he growls.

Your eyes are fixated on his hand on your wrist, not knowing how to react, not knowing what to say. Looking down to the dark ground, you listen to the leaves and twigs cracking under your feet, until you finally reach the meadow in front of the shrine again.

The sounds of the festivities grow silent in the distance.

Sukuna keeps dragging you to the shrine, but you notice he’s not going for the entrance. Going to the right side of the shrine, he stops. You look at him questioningly. Without explaining anything, he leans down to you and lifts you up.

Huh?

You just function and your hands find the edge of the shrines roof. With a push, he shoves you on the elevated surface. You climb further on the roof, carefully using the spikes that protrude there, until you reach the top. The curved roof converges on a long broad wooden beam. You sit and look back to Sukuna. With a jump, he holds on to the edge and hoists himself up. You watch him climb to the top of the roof like you did, his four arms almost making him look like a monkey while he does so, the sight causing you to suppress a grin.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing.” you lie and turn your back to him. “What are we doing here?”

He sighs loudly, before he sits down on the wooden beam behind you and lays on his back. You notice and turn around to see what he’s doing. His right leg is up with his foot resting on the surface, while he lets his left leg dangling down the side of the roof.

“Enjoying the silence.” he says calmly, while closing his eyes. You blink and smile to yourself, wondering if he did this for you. Leaning down, your back finds its way to the wooden surface as well, your head finding its place right next to his.

Some moments pass in silence. You watch the sky and the stars and wonder if he does too or keeps his eyes closed. The situation from earlier however, still sits in your mind.

“She’s pretty.” you start in a quiet voice. “I would’ve chosen her, too.”

He huffs amused.

“Really?” you hear him smirk. “Mhm… Interesting.”

“Don’t you think she’s pretty enough to be your queen?” you ask.

“Would you like that?” he smirks.

“No… I would strangle her in her sleep.” you answer in a serious tone, while closing your eyes. “Then you can eat her. You looked so hungry while choosing her anyway.”

He snorts and chuckles loudly at your words, making you feel his head move next to yours. You smile along, glad that you could make him laugh.

“You watched very closely.” he adds.

“I did.” you say quietly, smile fading. A weird mix of happiness and sadness fills your stomach, making you chew on your lip.

“Do they always offer you a bunch of women, hoping one of them to become your Queen?” your voice quiet again.

“Mh Mh.” he hums in confirmation.

“They have good intentions, wanting a Queen for their King.” you chuckle nervously.

„They’re a bunch of fools.“ he sneers. “And you are, too.”

Ouch.

The sounds of feet on grass reach your ears and you elevate your head to look down to the meadow. You see Uraume and the chosen girl walk back to the shrine. Having their hands full, they carry a lot of the good that were offered to Sukuna. Uraume seems to explain her something, probably the same things they explained to you when you arrived. You watch them for a moment and look back to Sukuna laying next to you, until you lay down again and the emotions in your gut keep building and building.

Feeling happy, that he’s here with you despite choosing her. Feeling sad, that he chose her despite having you.

And now she’s on her way, walking right into the shrine.

Your lips start to tremble and you sit up, as suddenly your emotions overflow and tears fall from your eyes. The rest of the alcohol in your blood doesn’t help with this situation at all. In fact it’s making it worse.

“Why’re you crying?” Sukuna’s eyes bore into your back, as you sniff and wipe away your tears.

“I can’t say.” you sob, while the palm of your hand swipes over your right eye, feeling ashamed that your brain and the bitch is making you feel so insecure.

Sukuna smacks his lips in annoyance, before he looks up into the sky again.

“Stop it.” he demands, his strict voice punches you hard in your guts.

Sniff.

But after a moment, it somehow eases your mind, brings you back to the here and now.

He’s here with me.

With me and only me.

Right now.

Slowly, you calm down and grow quiet again.

“You looked fierce on the battlefield.” he continues, making you turn around to him. “Using that bow and arrow suited you. So stand proud… and stop crying.”

He’s looking to the sky, while he says his words and hearing them makes you want to bawl your eyes out even more.

“Ok.” you swallow your tears and lay back down, while he grumbles in response.

Sniff.

A moment passes, before you tilt your head a little bit and look up to the moon. It’s shining so bright onto the two of you.

He didn’t want to go to the festival in the first place…

“While you were gone, did you look up and watch the moon sometime?” you ask him.

“I did.” he whispers, making your heart ache. The reminder, that not only you longed for him, but he also longed for you.

“Me too.” you breathe.

”I know.” he answers quietly, making your heart skip a beat, before it starts racing.

The stars keep shining down on both of you, as you watch the sky, while your heart keeps beating heavily in your chest. Just you and him laying there, just feeling his existence and yours, just feeling the warmth of his face next to yours. Thoughts tingle in your mind.

Stand proud.

Boom!

Another firework.

Maybe the last one.

“Sukuna…” you breathe. Heart racing, as you keep thinking, while staring on the dark blue, glittering space above your head. Eyes dancing between the stars and sparkles that you see. His face softly tilts against yours, waiting for you to speak, while you ponder. Trembling fingers start fiddling gently with the fabric of your kimono, before you inhale, before your lips start moving.

“I love you.”

#permission #permission chapters #true form sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #true form sukuna x reader #true form sukuna x you #fanfiction #slowburn #romance

[heartylunalys]

My lord

Prince Hal x black princess!reader

a/n: I’m back and I’m happy to show you this fic that I couldn’t wait to post, I wanted it to be a one shot but I thing I’ll make a 2nd part, tell me what you think about it! Sorry if the language is not perfect I’m not English so it was hard to find the perfect words for the situation

my masterlist

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genre: fluff, smut

words : 3k

warnings: smut !! slight racism( not from Hal!) slight misogynistic (not from Hal!), a little god complex lol, Hal and reader being fast at acknowledging their feelings

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You glared at your father, seeing him bow in front of the England King who was looking down at the two of you, clearly waiting for you to show some type of courtesy.

“Excuse me for the behaviour of my daughter, she is young and foolish.” your father explained to the man in front of you and a scoff escaped him.

“Being young is not an excuse, my youngest son, Thomas of Lancaster, is a respectful and obedient child.” He smirked in the direction of his son, looking at him with pride. “You should educate your daughter Sir, if she keeps this attitude no sane man would want to marry her.”

You maintained your calm and fought yourself to not roll your eyes at him and his stupid son.

“It's a pleasure to finally work with people from overseas.” The king of England said with a condescending attitude, clearly looking down on your father and his kingdom. Your father didn’t even bother to tell him that he wasn’t a representative of all overseas, he was a calm and wise man, knowing that you shouldn’t bother to be angry at fools. You, on the other hand, didn’t have his patience and as the time flew you only wanted to slap this petty king in the face and go back to your country where people had a lot more manners.

——

You were sitting at the banquet, clearly uncomfortable, everything was so different from your ways.

“You’re beautiful,” began the young son of Henry IV, sitting right next to you, “We never see people like you around here.” He stated and with his smile you understood that it was supposed to be a compliment. You nodded with a polite smile as the boy kept glancing at you throughout the night, trying each time to find a reason to talk to you.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” Exclaimed the King bitterly. Everyone turned their head to the majestic wooden entrance door, seeing a young slightly curly haired man, standing there, confidence but also annoyance and strength radiating off him. “Seems like my fool of an heir has decided to show up for once. What is bringing you here?”

“Your invitation father.” The man blankly stated as he sat at your table and you now had the occasion to look at the integrality of his features. Even if his hair was slightly long you could still see his defined jaw and cheekbone. He had a tired gaze, with dark circles decorating his greenish eyes and even if you knew that it wasn’t decent, you couldn’t help but let your eyes travel to his neck and collarbone, seeing the dark marks dotting his skin. The prince seemed to have decided to abandon all of his duties to enjoy the various pleasures of the common people.

“I’m glad you finally decided to leave the mud and prostitutes.” Henry IV muttered to his son who didn’t answer, only the way his jaw clenched indicated that he had heard his father’s remark.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity for you, Thomas left your side to go dance with some duchess, which left you the time to breathe a little bit. Thomas was a gentleman, representing perfectly how a prince should behave, but he was smothering you. Most of the guests were dancing so the table you were sitting at was almost empty. As you scanned the room, your eyes catched the eyes of the oldest King’s son who was already watching you. You quickly derived your gaze, hoping he wouldn’t mind you. However, the man saw this exchange as a good moment to approach you and before you even knew it he was now sitting in front of you.

“I’m sorry to intrude like this,” he began, his low voice pleasing your ears, “I know I never come in this castle but I’m sure I’ve never seen you before.” His eyes were lingering on your every feature.

“It’s because it’s my first time coming here Sir.” You said and watched a little smile forming on his face.

“Well, what a pleasure to meet you Lady..?” He let his voice trail, waiting patiently for your name while he took your hand gracefully in his.

“Y/n.” You answered, your breath was slightly cut off by the tender kiss he laid on the back of your hand.

“Lady Y/n, I’m Hal.” He smiled, his eyes almost felines and you just nodded, his hand not letting yours go. You found it odd to see that he wasn’t bragging about his title, all of the people you met here were obsessed by their nobility.

“If you allow me, Sir, I’d like to retire and go get some rest.” You asked even if you planned to leave no matter the answer he gave you.

“Of course beautiful, sleep well.” He playfully said and you refrained from laughing which made him smile.

Your room was spacious, and well decorated. A guard had escorted you and a maid was staying near in case you needed any help. That, plus the pretty prince you had the chance to meet was making you relativize on this little stay. As you hopped in the bath the maid had prepared for you, you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about the mysterious prince that brightened up the annoying banquet. Thinking about the softness of his hand around yours, you let your hand travel slowly to your core, taking your time to caress your chest and thighs before finally letting your fingers play with your clit, imaginating that it was his long and delicate fingers. You let out a soft sigh at the memory of his delightful mouth on your flesh and wondered how his lips will feel in all these inappropriate places of your body.

After your relief you wrap yourself in your towel, using all these foreign products to oil your body before finally putting on your night clothes.

The next morning the maid woke you up by pulling the curtains to let daylight enter your room. The warmness in the room was enjoyable but you wish you could stay a bit more in your sheets.

“The prince of Wales requests your presence, your Highness.” The maid sweetly said as she served your tea before preparing your clothes for the day.

“Where should I meet him?” You asked without even taking in the fact that it was perhaps inappropriate to meet the prince alone in what seems to be a private meeting.

“He’s waiting for you behind your door, he asked me to demand your permission to come in.” You couldn’t believe how this man was, he really didn’t care about etiquette did he?

“Then tell him to come in.” At your words she opened the door, revealing Hal who wasn’t even dressed up for the day. He seemed so normal that you almost forgot the formalities.

“You can leave us.” You sweetly said to your maid as she slightly bowed before leaving. Hal immediately jumped on the occasion to approach you as you were sitting on your bed watching him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you were clouding my dream.” He announced with a sultry voice, “my Lady, you are all I have ever sought, and if having you means accepting my noble life, the tasks and obligations that go with it, then I will. I’ll do it just to carry you on the throne and to call you my queen. I’ll do it to be able to make love to you every day passionately, to see you bear my heirs. I know it’s indecent, I know it’s not how we’re supposed to do it, I should demand your hand to your father and I promise I will. Love me Lady Y/n, please, I’ve done a lot of things that someone like me shouldn’t have done but I will abandon it all for you, for your love. I don’t care what the people will think about us, I don’t care what the kingdom will think. The only thing I can care about right now is you and the immense crave for your affection I have. Love me, let me take care of you like you deserve it, let me be your lover, even your worshipper if it means I’ll have even a little fragment of your attention. I know we just met but I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

The curly haired boy was panting, and so were you. It was all so sudden but horribly delicious. His hands had found yours during his speech and your nails were now scratching softly his skin as your eyes glossed on the way his lips were slightly quivering or his hands were shaky or even how his eyes were full of hope and a glint of passion was drowned in them.

“Sir…” your voice was so small, you even had difficulty hearing yourself, “This is so wrong, so wrong on so many levels.” His face dropped at your words. “At the same time it’s so delightful to hear you say all of that out loud-” Before you could add anything else his soft lips were on yours, moving slowly, lovingly. His tongue was playing with your bottom lips and the sweet sounds of your whimpers and slight moans could be heard. Your voice was making the prince completely wild, now sucking and biting your bottom lip to hear more of it. His hand was now on your thigh, his hand grabbing your dress to the point where his knuckles were now white. You took his hand in yours, slipping it gently under your dress, making him sigh of pleasure at the touch of the softness of your skin. He gently separated his lips from yours as you admired the now plump and rosy aspect of them.

“Let me have you.” His voice was almost begging you and you were ready to give yourself to him but a shy knock at the door stopped the magic of the moment.

“Come in.” You frustratedly said and immediately wandered off of Hal, fixing your dress as he looked everywhere but at his brother accompanied by guards. Thomas cleared his throat in embarrassment and confusion, not understanding why his older brother was in your room, on your bed.

“Lady Y/n, I was wondering if you’ll be pleased to go on a walk with me, I could show you the castle.” Thomas gently asked, watching his brother weirdly from time to time.

“Oh…” You discreetly eyed Hal, seeing the way his jaw clenched and his dark gaze was fixated on his younger brother. “I… Yes Sir Thomas,it would be my pleasure.” You said reluctantly, your nobility showing. Hal stepped out of the room, anger clearly radiating from him as he purposely bumped into his brother.

—

“Was my brother bothering you in your room? If it’s the case you can tell me, I’ll make sure that it doesn't happen anymore, he has no manners or respect.” Thomas stated as he was slowly walking with you through the castle.

“Not at all, he was just making sure I had everything I needed.” You lied and the prince next to you attentively watched your side.

“You shouldn’t be involved with him, he has damaged our name by his many scandals, he is not a man of good faith. I wouldn’t want him to tarnish your name with his inappropriate behaviour.” You quickly understood that Thomas was suspecting his brother to want to have sex with you, and even if you wanted it, the fact that he noticed that embarassed you.

“I don’t think your older brother is capable of such a thing.” You immediately answered and the boy scoffed

“He is reputed in all the country for his many mistresses. Initially he was the heir of my father but with how he abandoned our kingdom to his now life of debauchery, I have a chance to become Henry V.” He proudly announced and you politely smiled at him even though you didn’t care about what he was saying.

“You should give a little more credit to your older brother my Lord, I’m sure he has his own reasons to act the way he does.” You gently said and Thomas reluctantly nodded.

——

You asked to receive your dinner in your room even if it surely offended the King that you didn’t sit at the table to eat with him and his other subjects. You were too tired to speak or act like you cared about the King’s life and decided that eating alone was the best solution to not be rude to anyone around the table and disrespect them.

As you finished eating, you looked at yourself in the mirror, eyeing every jewellery that decorated your body. Some of them had just been gifted to you by the youngest prince of England and you couldn’t help but think it was a way of courting you and you didn’t like that.

You didn’t even hear the door of your room opening before feeling Prince Hal’s hands on your waist, admiring you in the mirror with loving eyes.

“How did you manage to enter my room?” You asked, smiling at him and he returned it immediately.

“Even if I’m not appreciated in this castle I’m still the prince.” You slightly laughed and Hal’s hand toyed your new necklace. “Is this a present?” He softly asked before you enveloped his hand with your.

“A present from your brother.” You simply answered and Hal scoffed before delicately taking off the necklace of your body. Before you could say anything a beautiful gold necklace replaced the old one and Hal laid a gentle kiss on your neck.

“So much more beautiful.” He proudly whispered as he turned you around, his hands on your waist, admiring you like you were some sort of goddess that he wasn’t even sure he could touch.

“Thank you Hal.” You shyly smiled.

“Are we finally giving up on manners?” You nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck and saw the way he smirked while looking at your figure.

“Please, don’t make me regret this.” You simply stated, your eyes lost in his with a loving stare.

“I was craving to see you tonight at the table, you’re the only reason I stay at this castle you know” a little smile decorated his lips

“ I can neither understand nor bear English manners, no offence” Hal simply nodded before taking your hand in his.

“Myself, cannot bear English manners.” Hearing your laugh, Hal looked attentively at you, admiring the woman who stole his heart so fast. “My lover, my beautiful lover, your beauty is almost painful.” His hand was now on your cheek, watching your loving eyes.

“You’re flattering me.” You said as your fingers found their way to his curls.

“I would never be, I would never lie to you my dear. The words you hear right now are the words of a man in love.”

“And the look you’re getting now is the look of a woman in love” you lovingly said and Hal gently pressed his lips on yours, kissing you tenderly, showing all his love to you.

Your hands were now on his neck as your lips moved perfectly in sync. It was so bad but felt so good. You knew that If anyone saw you like that you would be dishonoured but the idea of getting caught only made you more aroused.

“Hal,” you whimpered as his lips traveled from your mouth to your throat. He shushed you as he smiled against your skin, biting it softly but retaining himself to mark you.

“God I can’t wait to be married to you so I can show the entire world that you’re mine, I’ll show everyone what a filthy good girl you are to your King.” Hal whispered in your ear and seeing him like that was making you completely question your virtue and if it was even as necessary as people made you think.

“I thought from your behavior that you didn’t want to be King.” You managed to let out and Hal chuckled.

“How can I make you queen, my queen, if I don’t accept my obligations as an heir to become the King?” He playfully asked and stopped his kisses and before you could protest he simply locked the door. “Let me please you.” He lustfully said, waiting for your approval before guiding you to the luxurious bed of the room. Your nightgown wasn’t covering anything and Hal’s eyes were immediately captured by the view of your hardening nipples. His imposant hand captured your breast, massaging it softly, loving the soft sound you were making from such a little action.

“May I?” He asked his other hand ready to slip under your dress.

“Please my King” you moaned and his hand touched the wet patch of your undergarments. His fingers danced on your cunt, teasing you to hear you beg.

“What do you want?” His sultry voice asked, a playful smile on his face, clearly loving torturing you.

“I want you to touch me.” You said and he made an unapproving sound.

“Aren’t you supposed to beg for your king to please you?” His emerald eyes were now piercing your skin.

“Please, your Highness, I’m begging you, I need release, I’m begging you to please me.” The words escaped your lips with difficulty from how your mind was fogged with desire.

“Such a good girl, a good whore for her Lord.” It was easy to spot the double meaning of his sentence, he seemed to be like his brother said “not a man of faith” and you liked it.

“I’ll always be a good whore for my Lord.” You said, looking at him through your lashes and felt his fingers finally move, touching perfectly your bundle of pleasure, toying it, caressing it exactly like you needed.

“Let me taste you” he told you in his desperate tone and when you nodded he licked your folds, tasting you like he always wanted to. He was hungry, hungry for you as he passionately kissed your cunt, acting like your moan was some sort of drug keeping him going.

“I need more, please”.

He playfully humed. “What more do you need?”

“I need you to fill me up” Hal chuckled before entering one of his slender fingers in you.

“More, more, please” you begged him, wetness pooling between your thighs as his mischievous smile was on your clit. A second finger found your pussy before he began pumping in and out perfectly. His mouth was always sending shivers down your spine as he licked you so greatly.

With his other hand he was palming himself,needing desperately the relief, you were making him crazy and his dick was too hard, he needed to fuck his own hand, moaning and groaning against your cunt.

“My Lord…” you moaned as you felt your high wash over you. At this moment you saw the way his hips were moving even more desperately as he came with you, moaning the name of the woman that seemed to have bewitched him.

“God I’m in love with you” he said after laying next to you, caressing softly your cheeks as you tried to come down from you high. “Let me marry you.”

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a/n: like, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! :)

I’m taking requests! Check the rules first

I created this blog to allow black girls to feel more comfortable with reading x reader, as a black person I saw how much we weren’t really represented in the fanfic community

Tag list: @timotheel0ver @track0526 @s-we-e-t-t-ea t-ea @thebetawolfgirl

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This is my work, please don’t repost it, translate it or take it without my permission.

Published the 01/12/2022

#black reader #timothee chalamet x black reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee imagine #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #the king #prince hal #prince hal x reader #henry x reader

[obey-moi]

A good fight from such a small army, only for those seven to lose. As the final traces of their brothers and sister fell from the light, the angels looked at their hands, stained with the colour of pain. These hands. These horribly unclean hands holding spears and bows, swords and cudgels, used to cut down their own friends and collegues because Father had commanded them to, the bloody hands of hundreds of angels burned.

No one dared speak, or even think. The only noise that crushed the silence was the first cry. One angel had begun weeping uncontrollably. Another followed, as did more, grief pealing from Father’s children in waves.

In the human world, parents tell their children that it rains when angels cry. If that were true, then their world would have flooded tenfold that day.

Lilith, whose heart was so filled with love, she dared to save a single human. She faced obliteration by Father’s hand, to be so unmade that she could no longer live other lives.

Lucifer, the Morning Star, had led the rebellion in order to protect her. Before he fell out of their lines of sight, they watched him rip out two of his six beautiful wings, and all could hear his curses directed at Father, curses so shocking and unheard of it left them all shellshocked. Those who witnessed never knew nightmares before then.

It seemed like just yesterday, Mammon had become a Throne under Lucifer’s wing. Many younger angels had been brought up by him, and those same angels wondered if his blood now touched them. Had their blind devotion dressed them in his feathers and viscera? That red slick now permeated their pores and sunk so deep, it sickened the marrow of their bones with dread.

General Leviathan fought respectfully well, many would later look at the scars he had given them, only to remember him fondly, bittersweetly. He was a shy angel in what was once a time of peace, no one had an ill word on his reputation.

Future parties would no longer be the same without the Shining Jewel of Heaven. Many of Asmodeus’ former friends hid gifts of his away, feeling shame and fear should Father know the beautiful memories of him would be pulled out in quick moments of need, to wash away self-doubt and remember all the good things he had to say about everyone.

The ever-stoic and soft-spoken cherub Beelzebub had fought so viciously, destroying so much in his path. Near the end of the battle, they watched him dive desperately towards Lilith and Belphegor, who had both been struck down midflight. The two had been so close and beloved by him that he dropped everything to attempt to save his brother and sister. All three disappeared into the clouds, so no one knew if Beel saved either of them.

And poor Belphegor... Everyone knew how much he loved the humans. How many times had one of these angels covered for him and Lilith when they would sneak down to the realm of mortals, to watch and admire? How many stories had they brought back and excitedly whispered to them? How could they ever forget the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled with giddiness?

How could they? How could they have done this to them? Their brothers’ fight was with Father, why did they need to get so involved? How did this turn into a war? Was it fear of Father's retaliation? Was facing obliteration truly that much worse than losing such beloved, exemplary siblings?

Their eyes turned to Father.

And Father only stared back.

Who else would challenge Him now? Why should they? Did they forget how much... Father loved them? Molded their little clay bodies with His own hands? Breathed souls into that clay? Gave them names? Could they even comprehend becoming so ungrateful, without fear of becoming undone? Who dared doubt Him? Who should be so bold as to commit thought crimes under His omniscient watch?

Nothing was ever going to be the same.

My hands burn for you

My hands learn for you

As I lift them empty to the sky

And ask the good Lord why oh why

We must fill our smiles

With these broken bones

And hold our breath for you

Even when it was whispered that all but Lilith survived, they still mourned all seven just the same. The black sheep Simeon would bring back updates whenever he came home on his trips to the Devildom, risking further demotion. He didn’t have to do all that for them, but then again, all of those who missed the brothers craved anything he had to offer. After a particular scolding from Michael, Simeon began bringing home those books from the human realm, the series called “The Seven Lords” by Christopher Peugeot.

The young prodigy Luke was only so lucky to get to accompany Simeon on these trips. The young angels who grew up not knowing Mammon had to ask him what the former Throne was like, now that he was not just a demon, but an avatar of sin. However, Luke’s attention would always be elsewhere, uninterested in gossiping about demons in favour of handling whatever tasks a certain Archangel gave him.

Michael was forever altered. Without the Morning Star by his side, the leader of these angels now handled his and Lucifer’s workloads on his own. Now he seemed bossier, more rude, reclusive. His proverbial duet partner was gone, now Michael’s lone harmony sounded strangely off-key. So he rebelled in a safe and cowardly way, asking Simeon to retrieve little tokens and treats from the Devildom, just to get little ideas and tastes of what Lucifer and his brothers must be experiencing. Did they now like these kinds of things? Did his beautiful Lucifer also pass by these knick-knacks at the market? Did Lucifer think of Michael like this too? Did he...? Does his back still hurt...? It must.. It must...

The Seraphim Raphael could be seen being his usual stoic self, unreadable and silent, strict with the lower angels as usual. However, some would overhear the moments when Raphael thought he was alone, free to sniffle and paw at his dewy eyes. Despite his annoyance with some of the brothers, it seems that even some of the strongest angels had trouble accepting the empty seats at empty tables, the spaces they loved and shared that now felt so liminal, dusty, and disquieting, and the eerie silence where Mammon’s jokes, Asmodeus’ singing, and Belphegor’s stories should have been.

And no one thought to ask Father how He felt. A mile radius around Him was covered in eggshells and landmines. Everyone had the privilege of being divine and radiant, as long as no one questioned or betrayed Him. No one wanted to fall from grace, no one wanted obliteration, and so it was that everyone was... happy, fine, okay, content, satisfied. A moment spent pretending that Father wasn’t to be feared was a moment to rejoice in his unconditional love, as long as they never broke a rule. For if you betrayed Him, He would betray you.

So do not move

And do not think

Just let it be

Later on we’ll see

And if you asked any particularly brave or stupid angel, everyone living in the Celestial Realm was living in hell.

[Lyrics: Nataly Dawn, “My Hands Burn” X]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #obey me angels #Obey me! angels #obey me fic #obey me fanfiction #obey me! nightbringer #hmmmmmmm i might have cried a lil writing this haha ;w;

[wlw-imagines]

In The Name of Love - Clara Oswald/Reader (Doctor Who)

prompt: "you have some awesome writing friend, anyways may i request an imagine with Clara Oswald from Doctor Who? an unrequited love type of imagine?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing + the drama lmao   

The Doctor and you had been travelling together for a while. You'd always remember travelling the universe with Amy and Rory, River even joining in every now and then. You were like a family, the five of you together.

When Amy and Rory left things fell somewhat apart on the Tardis. River disappeared off somewhere and the Doctor fell into a silent mood, moping around his ship for hours on end.

But it hadn't taken long before another adventure was underway, and you were the first invited to join the team again. Of course you had said yes, life back on Earth was nothing compared to the stars and there were still creatures of hundreds and thousands of planets to meet.

The adventure this time? An apparent wild goose chase to find a woman who had died two times, an act that you were quite impressed with so when Clara was finally found you happily invited her with open arms onto the Tardis.

And you had practically watched yourself fall in love with the woman.

You had also watched Clara fall in love with the Doctor.

There had always been something between the two, something you couldn't place a finger on. You just wished you had some time to think it all through. However, by time you didn't mean you wanted to be stranded on an abandoned planet for weeks on end. That just seemed to be the universe's misinterpretation of your wish.

The weeks had passed by slowly. It had only happened because you had somehow been taken off course when trying to return to London, 1888 in an attempt to return Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax back home. How it had ended this badly was difficult to understand and something you simply decided to blame on the Doctor, besides you had been persuaded that it was good fun to hang around on an empty planet.

Until you found out it was infested with Cybermen. That wasn't fun. It also wasn't fun to find out they were planning on transporting down to Earth once their upgrade had finalised and kill everyone and take over and make humans a part of their army.

Obviously the only saving grace was the old bomb the Doctor had found that seemed to have been built as a failsafe many years ago, something which greatly excited the Doctor.

"So we have a bomb!" The Doctor smiled, clapping his hand together and rubbing them happily. After 4 long weeks on this planet, that might have been the best thing you had heard so far... and you had been told that Vastra all but cried when Jenny had told her she had loved her. "Big bomb on a small planet infested with Cybermen. Sounds like a recipe for fun." He straightened his bow tie and ran off down a corridor, "Wait there, I'll be back." He yelled over his shoulder as everyone shared confused glances but stayed put anyway - apart from Clara who insisted on running after him. You knew the pair too well and so made no attempt to stop either of them, knowing your efforts would be futile.

You stayed where you were on the floor, watching as Clara ran the opposite direction and just hoping she would stay safe and not do something too stupid like sacrificing herself for any of you.

You were too caught up in your thoughts that you didn't see Jenny approaching before speaking to you, "You love her." Jenny said simply, shooting you a sympathetic smile as she slid down next to you.

You let out an emotionless laugh, "Is it that obvious?"

"I like to think I come a'customed to seeing those kinda feelings." She smiled, sparing a glance to Vastra who was in deep conversation with Strax.

You were about to respond before the Doctor came bursting through the door with Clara close behind him. He clapped his hands and hopped up on a slight step. "Okay so I have good news and bad news, which one first?"

You smiled and answered for the group. "Good news."

"Oh, okay, well... funny thing, there really is no good news."

Raising an eyebrow you sighed and answered again. "Right... Bad news then?"

"Yes, so, the bomb can only be detonated by hand and from in this room and the cybermen are closing in."

"Which means...?"

"Someone has to push this big red button - I love big red buttons-" He grinned before going straight back to being serious, "and, uh, well... boom." He rubbed his hands together and suddenly looked almost guilty as well as serious, if that was even possible for the Doctor.

"Brilliant. There you go, we're sorted! We can leave and save the world by just pressing that big red button." Clara, being the ever optimist, smiled and approached the button. You, having been carefully watching the Doctor, stepped forward to intercept her.

"So the person who presses the button...?" You asked slowly.

"Yes, well there is that. Once the big red button has been pressed then there won't be time to escape," He admitted as he raked his hand through his hair. "Before the... boom."

Everyone stayed silent as the information sunk in. You took a moment to look around the room. The Doctor couldn't do it, too important. How could you let Clara sacrifice herself? Vastra and Jenny were married and you weren't in any hurry to force them to split up and Strax was just an innocent bystander in this whole shebang. You sighed and stepped forward, clearing your throat.

"Doctor, you always hog the fun of pushing big red buttons." You smiled, looking straight at him and watching as he immediately realised what you were planning. "I think it might be my turn to have a go."

Jenny gasped lightly and shook her head, "Well, no, there must be-"

"Vastra, take Jenny back to the Tardis." You gave apologetic eyes to your new found friend who struggled against her wife's grip.

"No, Y/N, I-"

"As you wish." The lizard bowed her head to you in respect before walking briskly to the Tardis, Jenny's cries of frustration muffling as they left. Strax, looked up to you and gave you his formal goodbye, soldier to soldier before walking solemnly after his mistress. Clara watched them leave with a confused look on her face, having not caught on to what you were planning.

"What-?"

"Clara, you need to go." You held her shoulders making sure she was looking at you. "You need to go." You repeated, becoming more and more wary of the clanging footsteps approaching from behind you as the Cyberman upgrade date loomed closer. She licked her lips and nodded, preparing herself to leave.

"Wait, what about you?" She asked

"I can try and slow them down." You held your head high in order to convey confidence that you were severely lacking right about now. "No need for all of us to die." You turned away, facing the direction the Cybermen were walking from. You glanced at the bomb - a weapon that frightened you to no ends but you had made a promise and you were going to save the world.

The feeling of Clara grabbing your arm and turning you around made your heart skip a beat but you stayed steady, refusing to let her get hurt.

"I'm not letting you do this Y/L/N." She shook her head, preparing her own weapon and coming to stand next to you. 'Not on your own."

You looked desperately behind you to see the Doctor standing still. "We can all get out, don't be silly. All three of us." The Doctor put on a brave face, one you had seen plenty of times before.

After walking up to him and taking him to the side you whispered, looking back at Clara. "We can't Doctor and the longer we wait then the less time you'll have to escape." You lowered your voice even more, "You know the bomb can only be detonated from on the planet. Take Clara and run." You insisted on staying, not wanting to let anyone else risk themselves for the cause. The Doctor stayed still, just looking at you for a while before taking your head in his hands and kissing your forehead gently.

"Say hello to Amy for me." He smiled and blinked a few times as you saw his eyes get slightly glossy. That was the only emotion you got from him as he swiftly turned around, grabbing Clara's hands and walking out much to her protests. "Clara, let’s go!" He shouted, using his sonic screwdriver to open a door in front of him.

He paused before nodding his head in recognition of your sacrifice. You smiled in response, sending him a mock salute before positioning yourself by the bomb again and turning around. You could faintly hear the sonic screwdriver locking you in before you met your fate.

You gingerly looked over the small box with wires - an old machine that had rusted over with age. Gripping onto the edge of the table, you closed your eyes and held your breath, praying that the Doctor was correct in saying that the bomb would definitely work. You also quickly reminded yourself that if you didn't do this then the thousands upon millions of cyberman on the other side of the door would otherwise infest the world that you had come to grow with and love, along with your friends and family. You had seen what those monsters could do and you weren't prepared to ever see it happen again.

There was hesitation in your movements as you placed your shaky hand on the button. The clanks, noises and voices of the cybermen could be heard coming closer. You knew you had to give the Tardis as much time as you could before you pressed down, as they had to have time to escape but the threat was looming nearer and nearer.

You could feel a bead of sweat drip down your temple as thoughts of your family and friends started to flood your mind, events and adventures you had forgotten about were becoming fresh and brought tears to your eyes. The heat in the room was suffocating as the door began to creak and crack under the pressure of an army of metal and you knew it was time.

"Good luck." You whispered, just having to hope that the Tardis had escaped, as you put pressure down on the button and took one last breath.

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

"She'll be alright, won't she?" Clara asked, the pair finally joining everyone else in the time machine. The comment made the Doctor stop abruptly so he was facing the controls. He ran his hands through his hair a few times leaving the group in silence.

"We need to leave before this place blows up." He mumbled almost incoherently as he flipped a few switches. Vastra took a deep breath and took place next to the Doctor. "i should have done something. I shouldn't let her do this."

"On the contrary Doctor. I believe you'll find that the fault of Y/N's actions should be sought elsewhere." She sent a pointed look towards Clara who frowned and advanced on her. The move caused Vastra to grasp the hilt of her swords and hiss slightly.

"What are you accusing me of?" Clara's brow furrowed and she took another step closer to Vastra who hissed again but louder.

"I think what my dearest means," Jenny stepped in, always acting as the pacifier when her wife lost touch with human emotions, "is that people do strange things in the name of love." She gave Vastra a pointed look, still sour about being dragged away before looking at Clara more carefully, knowing she was completely unaware of any feelings you may have had for her.

Clara's head snapped up at the word and her lips parted. "Love?" She shook her head, "No, Y/N never... She didn't..." Clara trailed off as everything clicked into place. "What's she done? Doctor?" She dashed towards the doors and tried to open them but too late as the Tardis powered up.

"It's too late, I'm sorry." He pulled down a final lever which sent the Tardis flying. The noise of a bomb drowned out any other words and left a deep silence for a long period after. The impact of the planet, and everything on it, being blown apart caused the Tardis to rock and everyone inside to stumble slightly.

And it wasn't Clara falling over that hurt the most but rather the pain of losing a friend, the pain of a sacrifice that she didn't even know was happening under her name. Clara could never speak to her, joke with her, laugh or sleep alongside her like she had many an adventure.

Y/N had died for Clara in the name of love.

#doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who x you #doctor who x reader #doctor who x y/n #clara oswald #clara oswald x reader #clara oswald imagine #clara oswald x y/n #WLW #wlw imagines #wlw imagine #wlw x reader #wlw-imagines #lesbian #lesbian imagine

[fiction-box]

To End Where You Started

GN!Reader x Dimitri

This is a response to a request for a GN!Reader who was childhood friends with Dimitri before switching sides once it came time for the war. This one took me much longer to write because I wanted to better establish the circumstances of the work. Hopefully, you love it all the more! If you like this, there is another I wrote for the same prompt with Felix on my page!

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

You’ve always valued human life. 

So when you saw Dimitri in the Holy Mausoleum, his mind lost and his lance bloody, you weren't sure what to do next.

It seemed no one knew what to do next. Felix was standing in front of Annette, glaring daggers at the blond. Mercedes slowly shifted toward her friend as Sylvain and Ingrid exchanged worried yet knowing looks. Dedue stepped forward, though he had no words. Even the professor seemed to be at a loss.

Dimitri, however, just began laughing again and shouting nonsense.

“No one will rest until Edelgard and the rest of the Empire force are burning in hell.”

“Your Highness-”

“Did I stutter, Dedue? Or perhaps you are considering turning your back on me now?”

 “Snap out of it, Boar!” Felix growled. “We’re not going to-”

“Then leave! If you no longer see me as your leader, why not go join her?’

Silence.

You could only watch as Dimitri’s eyes scanned the faces of your allies, daring your friends to take a step in either direction. No one spoke, but there was a palpable tension in everyone’s body. In the way that Mercedes and Annette clung to each other, in the way that Felix kept his hand by his sword, Dedue kept silent and steady, and Professor Byleth did not intervene. In the way that Sylvain grit his teeth, Ashe pursed his lips, and Ingrid practically strangled the pole of her lance.

In the way that you stepped forward, quiet yet resolute.

“I won’t be treated like this.”

Dimitri scowled, “You’re a soldier, aren’t you? You signed up for this the moment you joined the Blue Lion house.”

“I signed up to fight in the hopes of protecting Faerghus and its people! I signed up to honor my family and keep the ones I love safe!” you shouted over him before bringing your voice back down. “There is no honor in this.”

“And you would not serve your future king? Where is your honor in running away?”

“I would not bow to those corrupted by their emotions! No one who would act in such a manner ought to represent Faerghus!”

“Then go to her! Run off and join the scum of the earth that march under that woman’s name!” he spat. “But mark my words, when we do meet again, I shall meet you with the fate of a traitor. There will be no mercy even should you beg for it. Do not expect remorse from any of us when your head, too, rolls upon the dirt.”

You did not allow your face to betray any emotion at all. You would show no sign of anything, despite the way his words cut through you. How could someone you practically exalted, someone you had become so close to over the past several months, turn around and talk to you like this.

Maybe your friends weren’t strong enough to stand up for themselves. Maybe they had too much to lose; people to protect and family to remain with. Ideals, relations, and possessions that could only be secure if they sided with Dimitri. A few had said as such, declaring their belief in Dimitri as their future king.

You loved them dearly, but there wasn’t a single one among them that you would allow yourself to be treated this way for. Especially not now, when none cared to stand up for you.

Finally, you clenched your teeth. If that was how he really felt, and if your friends were letting him speak for them, then that truly was the end of it.

“Maybe I will go. Edelgard would at least pretend to care whether I live or die, and the Black Eagles are actually bold enough to stand up for what they believe.”

Spinning on your heel, you left the Mausoleum alone. 

In truth, you had no intention of joining the empire. At least not at first. Once you arrived back home, you informed your parents of the prince’s delusion. They seemed to be proud of your decision, and as proof of their support, chose to become a neutral faction in the war. 

The amount of prestige and connections that came with that sacrifice…you were torn between being moved and remorseful. While it was true that your family had not lost too much power, as crest wielding houses tended not to do, there was still a great sacrifice made in keeping you safe from the Kingdom’s demands.

That was not the only change, however. It turns out that news travels fast when the family of a veritable noble house defects from their allies. People were stopping by left and right, bargaining troop stations, land usage, resource management, and all the other things that would keep your mother and father busy. You chose to focus on defending your land, though it did not consist of much work while both the Alliance and the Empire found it so valuable.

Needless to say, you were more than curious the day your mother called you into one of the drawing rooms to meet with one of her guests.

“Mother, what is this about? You know I prefer not to attend these sorts of things.”

“Oh, I know very well, darling. This one is a bit different, though. Someone has requested to confer with you directly, and I would have been in a bit of a tight spot to say no.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is no secret that we have been both opening up to and prospering from negotiations from several sides of this war. There have been enticing offers to nullify our neutrality and pledge allegiance here or there. You know this.”

“Oh,” you were beginning to catch on. “So then someone must have made an offer that you liked?”

“Just…promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”

“Of course.” 

With an odd tension about you, you braced yourself for whatever would be found in that room. Your mother was not usually one to be so cryptic. A quiet sigh left your lips as you turned around.

The doors opened in front of you.

“Ah, I see you made your way here without much trouble.”

…what?

“Lady Edelgard? What are you-...Shouldn’t you be heading the war effort somewhere?”

What was this, really?

Remembering yourself, you lowered yourself in greeting, “Forgive me, your Imperial Majesty.”

You rose, trying to process the image in front of you. The Emperor of Adrestia sat poised on the sofa with a cup of tea your mother had no doubt been the one to offer. At her side stood Hubert, dutiful as he was so often described.

Soundlessly, she set down her cup, “Everything I do is for the future. For this war to end. I took notice that you were not among your former classmates’ ranks and grew curious. Needless to say, I did not need to look far to find you.”

“It was not my intention to run and hide,” you stated, taking a seat on the couch across from Edelgard.

“I never meant to imply as such,” she began. “On the contrary, I believe you still have a place in this war. If you left for the reasons I believe you did, that is.”

The conversation that followed consisted of platitudes and ideals; the type of which you both seemed to agree upon. You found your own ideas of the values of talent and human life to be eerily similar. It was decidedly reassuring that she had come to you directly, so that you could see them reflected in the leader of the Empire firsthand.

In time, you would join the Empire’s ranks under a woman named Cornelia while your house remained neutral. It would not have been in the best interests for a house so distant from the Empire to declare fealty, after all.

~~~~~~~

Several years later, you would be uncertain of your decision.

After everything you had witnessed Edelgard do up to this point, you weren’t so sure she viewed your ideals in the same light. Crest beasts, experiments, secret treaties, and deals made in the dark of night…you couldn’t get behind it, but your family had already made its decision.

Even so…

I agreed to fight for the empire, you reminded yourself, not for this woman.

Right now, you were being assigned to defend the Kingdom’s capital in an effort led by Cornelia. Ironically, the sorceress seemed to be the epitome of everything you stood against, yet here you were as her ally.

How far you had come from home.

She had positioned you between a pair of horrifying machines; two technological terrors known as viskam.

How low you must have come from your initial meeting with the Emperor.

You watched as your previous house leader’s army dispersed. Some soldiers veered left, others went right, but Dimitri’s main force charged up the middle, directly at you and the mechs Cornelia had placed.

Watching diligently, you noted how the Kingdom soldiers would take on multiple of Cornelia’s fighters while Dimitri would sneak past.

Well, as sneaky as someone with a bright fur cape and a target on his back could be.

A thought came to mind with every step forward he took. It came slowly, not sudden in the slightest, but sure.

If I were to kill Dimitri, all of this would end.

It was true, you knew. You were unsure how you felt about it, though you deduced that part of that uncertainty came from your past friendship with the prince. But had he truly reverted from the monster you left in the Holy Mausoleum?

There was only one way to find out, you supposed. You would face your past friend head-on. If he turned out to be the same man you saw that day, you would not hesitate to kill him. Anything to end this war.

Just as he made his way to the staircase, you walked forward, blocking off the top.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Dimitri’s eyes went wide, but you didn’t buy it. He had a clear view of you positioned just below Cornelia since the moment he walked into her sight.

So what, then? Were you to believe his surprise came from the idea that you were actually trying to stop him? You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the slightest bit insulting.

“It’s you…but why-”

You threw a dagger at him, which whiffed as he sidestepped, “That’s all I get? It’s you? After all those years, not to mention the amalgamation of everything you said and did once the Flame Emperor unmasked herself, you cannot even say my name?”

His eyes softened as though hurt, “I didn’t think I had the privilege, anymore.”

“Then fight me! You have always given yourself the privilege to take the lives of others,” another dagger, this one closer to hitting its mark before Dimitri barely moved out of the way, “Do not let mine be any different.”

“I’m sorry,” he approached you, climbing the stairs, “I understand why you left, but know now that I do not wish to hurt you. Just step aside so-”

“And then what? Let you kill Cornelia? Condemn thousands of others in some future conquest?”

What were you doing? This version of Dimitri was worlds apart from the boy you left in the Holy Mausoleum.

So why were you still fighting him?

A loud noise disrupted your thoughts. You turned to face it, noting that Dimitri paused, as well. Farther away, Cornelia let out a dark cackle.

“Wonderful job getting the poor princeling right where I need him. Your death will not be in vain.”

You did not allow yourself to fully process her words as a bright light shot out of the viskam that had made that awful noise, earlier. With the future king just paces away, you could guess where it was going to land.

But Dimitri had turned to face Cornelia.

It appeared you had a choice to make.

“Don’t resist,” you closed the distance between yourself and the Kingdom's rightful heir. He had grown since your last encounter; holding this grudge could only do more harm than good.

Maybe that meant you would not survive this, but in that moment, what was your life next to his?

So, in the second before he could react and before the viskam struck, you pushed Dimitri down the stairs.

And it was when the world went from bright white to pitch black that you knew your death would not be in vain.

~~~~

“A…ing…rk?”

“We…bre…ag?”

“I bel…sh…wake up in…!”

Everything ached, and you couldn’t move. It would probably hurt if you tried, anyway.

At least you could feel something, right? At least you were alive. Though if you had to go through life like this, then perhaps you were better off dead.

But then a cooling sensation began to make itself known throughout your body. It was strongest in your head, torso, and legs, though you could feel it spreading and connecting in your arms and neck.

Tentatively, you allowed your eyes to open.

“Oh, thank goodness! Mercie, we did it!” Annette beamed from her position at your head.

Felix scoffed, “About time.”

“How do you feel? Are you alright?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you managed, surprised at the strength of your own voice, “and…I cannot move.”

Scanning the area with your eyes, you realized you hadn’t been moved, either. You were still lying on the floor by the stairs; exactly where you remember being struck down.

“Is Cornelia…?”

“Dead,” Felix confirmed.

“And I remember pushing his Highness down the stairs. It was the best I could do with my own strength…” you had known you weren’t strong enough to normally push him far enough out of the way nor to pull him far enough before he instinctively resisted, ”but he isn’t hurt too badly, is he?”

“Oh goodness, no! Annie told me she saw the whole thing. Apparently, Dimitri caught himself rather quickly.” Mercedes reassured you.

Annette frowned, “I’ve never had to spend this much time on an injury, and certainly not while working with others. I’m surprised it’s taking this long.”

“I’m surprised you’re alive.”

“Felix!”

“What? You and I both saw that thing,” he turned from Annette back to you. “If you had sustained any other injuries before getting hit by that thing, you’d have been dead on the spot.”

Annette and Felix continued their banter as you shut your eyes and listened. Finally, you began to feel your body coming back to life; stronger and back into your control.

“Okay, I think that should do it! How does that feel?”

Annette waited another moment for your response before calling your name in confusion.

“Oops,” Mercedes giggled, “I think the magic might have lulled them to sleep. We did go a little overboard, I suppose.”

“Is everything alright?”

The group turned, looking up at the new voice that joined them.

“Prince Dimitri! Yes, everything is fine. They should be all better upon awakening.”

“Ah, that’s good. I am sorry to have left you all here for so long. Sylvain, Ingrid, and myself were working on reconciling with the remaining soldiers.”

Felix raised a brow, “Then where are they?”

“Once the issue of alliances was out of the way, Ingrid told me they could handle the rest,” Dimitri directed his eyes down to you. “Sylvain…said it might be best if I came to check on them.”

The swordsman’s expression didn’t change, “Well that doesn’t make any sense. There’s already three of us-! Hey!”

Dimitri balked as he watched Annette get up and drag Felix with her. Mercedes followed close behind, smiling back at him. 

“Let us know if they need any more help!” 

“Y-Yes of course…” he stammered, confused.

“Of course what?”

Shocked to hear your voice, the Blue Lion’s leader dropped his gaze unto where you had been resting on the floor, “Ah! You’re awake!”

You made a small noise, blinking against the light of the sun as you began to sit up.

“Mercedes told me to fetch her if you were having any issues. Are you alright?”

Methodically, you tested each of your limbs, “Yes…Yes, I think so.”

“Good,” he sighed, and you swore you saw him relax the slightest bit.

The ensuing silence was uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Forgive me for this. I know you’ve just recovered, but I’d like to thank you for saving my life.”

“You're welcome,” you said, “but why are you apologizing for that?”

He maintained eye contact with you, “Because I would also like to ask you why you did that.”

At first, you didn’t really have a response. The more you thought about it though, the more clear everything felt in your head. There was really only one answer.

“I just did what I thought was right.”

“But I was terrible to you!” Dimitri didn’t hesitate, “I said horrible things to you, and I treated you like…”

“Like I was worthless?”

It was as though all the words left Dimitri's mouth. After another moment of silence, he finally averted his gaze, “I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

“No, you really don’t, do you?”

…no reaction. So he was telling the truth.

“But, if you were to apologize, I might forgive you.”

He looked to you slowly, a look of timid surprise written on the blond’s face, “Surely, it would take more than that…”

“It should not take more than that if you are genuine,” you painted your face with a small frown, in conflict with yourself, “You’re not the same person you were 5 years ago, Dimitri. I am not about to make a habit of forgiving people just because some time has passed, but I know that many more people can be helped if we clear the air right now.”

“Right,” he swallowed, extending his hand down to you. “In that case, know that I am truly sorry for the way I treated you, both within the Holy Mausoleum and the several days before. I also apologize for the effect it has had upon both you and your family, though it seems you have found a way to make the most of your situation.”

You laughed a bit at that, accepting his offer to help you to your feet, “I suppose you could say that.”

Now it was the prince’s turn to frown, “I am being serious. This will not happen again. I promise to respect and honor both you and all that you do for the Blue Lions.” He paused, suddenly unsure, “If…you do choose to come back, that is.”

Turning away to hide the small blush that appeared at his phrasing, you looked at the stairwell, “It would be thoughtless not to join, seeing how I almost died for you.”

At the feeling of his hands on your arms, you turned back to him, surprised.

“You must promise to never do that again. Do you understand me?”

“I…you know I could never promise that. You’re too important.”

“Swear it anyway,” he pleaded. 

How uncharacteristic, you wondered.

“Really, Dimitri-”

“I don’t care if it’s a lie,” he let go of you, taking a step back while never wavering his gaze, “Just…”

He seemed to have run out of words, and all the two of you could do was stare at each other. Eventually, you broke first with a sigh. You couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact knowing you could never rely on your words alone to determine your future. Regardless, you spoke.

“...I…promise…that will not happen again.”

A grimace appeared on Dimitri’s face out of the corner of your eye, but the two of you spoke no more after that. Wordlessly, you left to go find Mercedes and the others. Where Dimitri went in the moments following, you had no clue, but the conversation would stay in your mind throughout the rest of the war.

Only time would tell if your promise was kept.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fiction #fe x reader #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fe dimitri #fe3h dimitri #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

[auteurdelabre]

Bravo! Take a Bow pt 2 (SERIES) Dieter

Summary: As you're brought back for a Chemistry Read with Dieter Bravo things don't turn out exactly as anticipated. rating: 18+ (for future smut chapters) words: 6.9k Warnings: Cigarettes part 1

Parking in Burbank is expensive. The kind of expensive that has you wishing you'd taken the bus despite the commute from your apartment. When you finally find the hotel your heart lurches in your chest. You're actually here, it's actually happening. You slip your credit card into the machine, wincing as you see the total.

Oh well. If you land this role maybe you can afford to get valet the next time you go out to eat. You smile at that though, placing the ticket on your dashboard and gripping the pages from your seat in your hand.

It’s fun playing in this fantasy. Living in your mind a world where you land this role, where it catapults you into superstardom. You can imagine the interviews, the red carpet, the fame and fortune.

All you have to do is get this part.

“Your zipper is down.”

You glance at your phone to see you’re still too early. A whole half an hour.

You told you brother and a few girls at the restaurant about this chemistry read and their supportive messages come through to your phone.

You got this gurl I better see you on the big screen 🔥🔥🔥 - Daisy, fellow server and hopeful crooner.

Fucking slay this audition or I'm never covering another shift for you!!!! -Tiffany, your favorite fellow server who spends hours in her crowded apartment making dancing tiktoks.

I believe in you honey. I can't wait for you to tell me all about it tomorrow. - Charlotte, who probably needed one of the kitchen staff to help her send a text. Bless her.

You got this! Crossing our fingers and toes over here! - that's from your brother.

I know u got this & I'll make pasta for dinner to celebrate! 💋💋💋 - Carlee's message is typically her, sweet and supportive. She was of course the first person you told when you got the call.

You spot a smoothie bar across the street and jog over, waving at the cars that let you pass. You feel so excited, so nervous, so… electric as you walk over. You’re convinced everyone must see it in your face, they must feel it in the energy you’re giving off because everyone you pass is smiling at you. Everyone that you pass seems kind and joy –

You glance at the old woman to your left pointing at your jeans. With red cheeks you glance down to see she’s correct. Your pink polka dot panties peek out and you quickly zip your jeans up, turning from the smoothie bar to walk in the opposite direction.

Fuck.

///

Turns out the gas station near the hotel has coffee and that suits you just fine. You take a seat outside on the curb, sipping and you look at the pages you were sent this week. These are the ones you and Carlee spent hours going over and over and over again until you were both exhausted and giggly.

There are a litany of notes in the margins, reminders of character motivations and prompts, observations you made about the scene. You want this part of Cecilia so badly and you are prepared to do all you can to land it.

They must have seen it in your audition – the desire, the character flowing through you. You must have communicated that with your craft and that feels so uplifting, so gratifying. To be recognized for your talent in something you hold so near and dear to your heart.  You take a break from the pages you've prepared, not wanting to overdo it and you bask in the warmth of the day.

You think that this moment is when things are going to change for you and you want to document the moment. You pull up Instagram on your phone and hold the coffee cup in front of your face, smiling brightly before snapping the selfie. When you’re satisfied with it after a few filtered adjustments you caption it: “Acting fuel #actorlife #lalaland”

If anyone searches your Instagram they would think your life is nothing but sunshine, auditions and fun nights out. They don't see the long hours at the restaurant, of coming home smelling of garlic. They don't see the frustrated tears when you don't land a role. They don't see the shame when your family asks you to come visit and you can't afford the flight. 

Instead you scroll back to one of your earliest posts from when you first got here to L.A. It's a selfie of you in the Sudsy bubble costume, smile bright as you stand on the fake kitchen set. 

It's funny because you're always tempted to take it down, to forget that embarrassment. But there's something in your face in that photo that stops you every time. You'd been just so excited to land a role, to actually get paid for something you're passionate about. It comes through in every inch of the photo. 

This buoys you; it makes you forget the zipper as you walk into the hotel. You’re hair was done by Carlee and hangs in sleek waves over your shoulders, your makeup is subtle, your jeans and t-shirt are perfect for the character – she’s a simple, small-town woman. You want the casting directors to believe you are Cecelia Jackson in the flesh.

This is it. This is the moment everything changes for you. You can feel it in your bones. And this thrills you despite the fact that your potential future costar is Dieter Bravo. You frown a bit at the thought of running into him again.

You go to the front desk to check in and are greeted warmly by a man in an expensive looking suit. He asks you to follow him and you both take the elevator to one of the upper level meeting rooms. The place is huge, normally held for things like business meetings but right now is set up with a couch, some chairs under the window. The rest of the place is haphazard, things being moved, tape being put in colorful X’s on the floor to mark where you should stand. A large camera is there, being operated by an older man with a backwards cap.

You wait to be announced, to be guided, but the man from the hotel simply points you in the direction and then is gone, leaving you standing on the fringe of the scene feeling awkward. Your mouth goes dry and you wish you hadn’t bothered with the coffee.

You move further into the large room, trying not to be intimidated by the cameras and the bustling crowd of busy-looking people while others stand looking bored at their phones. That's the thing about the film world, the hurry up and wait of it all. 

You see several chairs set up at the side of the room, one of which has an ornate striped purple jacket draped over it. You’d bet your next paycheck that it belongs to Dieter. No one else would wear it, that’s for sure.

"Hey Sudsy."

You wince, trying not to show your displeasure and you feel your cheeks get hot as you turn to look behind you to see Dieter grinning at you, wearing oversized sunglasses. Does he know he’s inside?  His hair is especially wild around his face and today he wears a simple silver hoop in his left ear. But that's all that's simple about him. He's wearing striped pants under a green sweater that almost reaches his knees and on his feet? Black Crocs. Did he get dressed in the dark?

"Hi."

"You ready for this read?" He lowers his sunglasses to the end of his nose. "Come prepared?"

"Yep."

You keep your answers brief and monosyllabic. You also try not to look at his face. You know those big, doe-eyes of his will hold either amusement or pity, neither of which you want. You wonder how to thank him for the money he left as your tip. Is it gauche to mention it? Is it pathetic? He glances down at your pages, his eyes growing owlish in his face.

“Is that your writing in the margins?”

“Yeah,” you say, folding the pages up, feeling shy under the scrutiny. “Just some notes.”

Dieter gets a strange look on his face and he nods, looking at his own blank spaces on the script. You note it looks like it was just freshly printed off and you wonder if he’s even bothered looking at his part. You spent days memorizing every line, every breath and you think it would be just your luck to work opposite a man who hasn’t even bothered glancing at it until now.

"You didn't wear the bow," Dieter observes, breaking into your anxious thoughts.

You raise your eyes to his at that and see the amusement so clearly showcased there. You feel a flush of humiliation go through you. You see how it is now. He's just going to play with you, like a bored child needing entertainment. 

"Nope. Didn't want to risk it in case you brought more judgmental models with you."

Dieter looks surprised by your response but then his eyes fly to something behind you. You glance over to see the craft services table being set up, an array of water bottles and snacks being laid out. 

"Oh fuck yeah," Dieter says before heading over to the table. You watch as he immediately plucks several cubes of cheese from the tray, saying something to the man setting the spread up and making him laugh. You watch Dieter swipe a cookie, chewing obnoxiously as you cringe watching him.  

You hear your name being called and a woman named Jan approaches introducing herself as the head casting director.

“So glad you could join us today. We’re just getting the lighting set up and then you and Dee will be good to go, yeah?”

“Uh, sure, should we do a run-through?”

“Nah, this is more casual,” Jan assures you. “We just wanna see how you work off one another. See how it feels. You off-script?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great. I’ll call you both in a sec.”

You smile, but it’s tight. You glance over at your hopeful future co-star and hold in a groan. He’s shoving more cheese into his mouth, laughing at something on his phone.

This is supposed to be Levi Jackson? The man that Cecelia loved for all those years? The man she felt confident to place all her hopes and dreams in? You decide Dieter can play the disappointing older version of Levi, that’s for sure. The washed up architect that hasn’t touched her in months. The man she’s grown to hate.

Dieter saunters over to you, his eyes scanning the page as he murmurs to himself. He stops right next to you, glancing at your page. His sunglasses are hanging over his collar, the arm of one snug against his sternum.

“Can I see your notes?”

You have no reason not to show him. It’s not like you’re competing for the same role. You nod, handing him your script. He’s reading something written in the margins, his eyes squinting. You wonder if he needs glasses but doesn’t wear them for vanity’s sake.

“You really think she hates him?”

You glance over to see the part Dieter is referencing, his long finger pointed to one of your hastily printed notes. The ones that say ‘unfiltered hatred’.

“I dunno, seems she’d be a bit more chill about it,” Dieter shrugs. “Yeah she’s pissed, but, she loves this guy, right?”

“Yeah that’s why she’s so upset,” you explain diplomatically. “She loved him for so long and he’s become such a huge disappointment.”

“But if she loves him so much then why is she so mean to him?” Dieter reasons, almost childlike. “How can you hate and love someone at the same time? They’re polar opposites.”

“You can love someone and hate them all at once, trust me,” you scoff, taking your pages back. “Haven’t you ever been in love?”

Dieter blinks, the amusement fleeing his face for a fraction of a moment before its being replaced by bravado.

“I’m rarely lonely,” he smiles.

You hold in an eye roll and go to tell him that it’s not the same, that love isn’t the same as lust. But you’re both being called over to Jan, ordered kindly to sit on the sofa together. You do so, both on either side of the sofa as Jan demanded.

Dieter still has cookie crumbs on his shirt that he wipes absently at, glancing once more at the script, mumbling to himself and tossing the pages back onto his chair. You watch him begin to do mouth exercises, stretching his tongue out back and again saying turns of phrases to loosen up his muscles.

“Okay, so this scene is Cecelia and Levi just coming back from a really bad dinner with friends,” Jan says setting the scene for you. “Cecelia is embarrassed because Levi just lost another contract. Things are tense. Go when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath, eyes shuttering for a moment as you slip into the skin of this character, as you take on her burdens and let go of your own.

It's easy to find the anger for the man sitting across from you. It's resting there, dormant since Dieter came into your restaurant. Despite the generous tip me left, you could easily recall the way he laughed behind his hand, the way he made you run back and forth like a lapdog. 

You think of how he didn't greet you like an equal today. He called you Sudsy, wanted to remind you that you are less. Mentioned the hair bow to throw you off your game. Challenged your notes when he was the one that wanted to see them.

And when you open your eyes you’re not you. You’re Cecelia Jackson, a woman pushed to her limits by a man she thought she knew. Dieter is staring at you, watching this process and you realize it’s because you have the first line.

“Tonight was humiliating,” you deliver loudly, your voice slicing through the air.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Dieter replies, his eyes soft.

“Not for you,” you scoff, eyes narrowed. “I’m going to bed.”

You move to get up, but Dieter reaches for you, just as it says in the script. His hand wraps around your wrist and he stops you from leaving. You give a sigh, sinking back into the sofa with hatred in your eyes.

"Cece. I just wanna talk."

Cecelia and Levi. Lovers of five years, their relationship frayed by the casual betrayals of one another. A toxic relationship at best. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Levi.”

Dieter moves closer to you on the sofa and you eye him warily. His dark eyes drop to your mouth and then move to your eyes.

“Baby.”

You think of Cecelia, a strong woman pushed to her breaking point. You think how she wouldn't want to talk to Levi, wouldn’t want to hear his pathetic ‘baby’ croon. She'd want to slap him. 

"Get off of me," you say, eyes bright with anger. You jerk your hand from his harshly. Dieter looks shocked by this aggressive choice, mouth parting before he remembers himself. 

"Why are you being like th-"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near me tonight," you hiss, body tensed. "I don't even want to be in the same house as you. I want you gone."

"I built this house brick by brick," Dieter sneers. "What makes you think you have any claim to i-"

"Because for the last five years I've had to put up with you!" You scowl. "I'm owed something for that."

Dieter takes a deep breath and you anticipate his next words. But then he's putting back, breaking character and looking over at Jan. 

"She's stepping all over my lines," Dieter sulks, mouth downturned.

"You wanted her here Dee," Jan says before she moves over to talk to the man behind the camera. You feel your eyes blow wide as Dieter frowns; reaching behind him to grab his pages and look over the lines again.

No.

You realize now what this is. It's a favor. Something Dieter did because he feels sorry about how you were treated during the dinner. His way of absolving his guilt because the money wasn’t enough. Immediately you feel sick to your stomach.

"Fuck," you whisper, anger and humiliation overtaking you. 

"Just let the lines breathe," Dieter says moving his hands airily and sounding like every other pretentious actor you've met. "You keep coming in ea-"

"Not the fucking lines," you hiss lowly, not wanting anyone to hear. You glance over to see Jan and the group still talking. Dieter is looking at you with knitted brows, his face a picture of confusion. He leans forward on the sofa, voice dropping low to match yours.

"Then what?"'

"I'm not here because they liked my audition. I'm here because they did you a favor." 

"So?" Dieter shrugs. He doesn't even bother denying it which somehow makes it worse.

"What's the point? They won't actually consider me."

"Why? I saw your audition. You were really fucking good."

"They're only seeing me because the infamous and connected Dieter Bravo called the right people and pulled the right strings. This whole thing is a farce." 

You cross your arms over your chest, heart picking up speed. You're trying so hard not to feel devastated in front of this man you don't even know. 

"You seem too smart to be this naive," Dieter scoffs. "Half this industry is built on who knows who. So either use it to your advantage and kill the read or keep working part time at that restaurant. Choice is yours, Sudsy."

With that he moves back, the scent of peppermint and old coffee wafting over you in his wake. You know he said a lot, but all your narcissistic brain can focus on is: I saw your audition. You were really fucking good.

"Let's take that one again," Jan says as they set up the camera to its first position.

You nod, inhaling deeply as your eyes go to the sofa. Fuck this is so awkward and awful and-

“Can I make a suggestion?” Dieter asks voice soft again. You glance up, nodding. You have nothing to lose at this point.

“Remember why Cecelia loved Levi in the first place. Remember that feeling as you’re getting mad. Then let it explode. Don’t start from anger too fast. Get there and then let Levi have it.”

There’s wisdom in that suggestion, you think. Even if it’s coming from a man who’s most recent claim to fame was a movie about poorly CGI’d animals attacking a group of scientists. You lick your lips nervously before nodding.

Jan calls out from behind the camera. “And Dee when you’re giving the baby line let us believe it, yeah? Right now it’s playing a little flat.”

Dieter nods, taking the note with a bit of a curl in his lip. You hide your amusement. For a man that likes giving acting advice, he sure doesn’t like hearing it.

“Action!”

“Tonight was humiliating,” you say in a soft voice, your eyes sorrowful.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Dieter replies, leaning back on the sofa and watching you. He’s more relaxed his body boneless against the sofa. He’s Levi, king of his own castle, not seeing that his wife is quickly unraveling.

“Not for you,” you say, holding back tears. You take a minute to let the scene play out in your mind, going to an empty bed, joined later by a man who hasn’t shown he still desires you. “I’m going to sleep.”

Dieter reaches across the sofa as you begin to stand, his warm fingers wrapping around your wrist. He pulls gently, not wanting you to leave. You feel your affection for Levi flood your senses and against your better judgment you stay, slowly moving back against the cushion.

"Cece. I just wanna talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Levi.”

Dieter looks at you with those large, emotional eyes of his and you feel yourself get sucked into them. You don’t even notice when he slides towards you on the sofa. But suddenly he’s close, so close. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes moving to your mouth and back to your eyes.

“Baby.”

It’s raspy and needful and you don’t love that your heart hiccups when Dieter says it. You blink, not allowing yourself to get pulled out of the scene.

"Get off of me," you say tiredly. You’re exhausted after a long night and just want to go to sleep. You go to tug your hand from Dieter but he holds tight to it, his face contorted into a painful pleading look.  

"Why are you being like this?"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near me tonight," say, still trying to tug your wrist back. He’s so close and he’s got such a grip that it makes you feel trapped. You hate it and the agitation shows on your face. "I don't even want to be in the same house as you. I want you gone."

"I built this house brick by brick," Dieter sneers, pulling you by the wrist towards him. "What makes you think you have any claim to it?"

"Because for the last five years I've had to put up with you!" You cry out. "I'm owed something for that."

“You think because I put a ring on your finger that gives you permission to take everything from me?” Dieter insists with his mouth curved into a hideous grimace. You note as he begins to move forward, trying to intimidate you. “You think I’ll let you walk out of my life with everything I’ve built?”

“That we’ve built you mean,” you say, the anger starting to curl around your words as you bring yourself to a kneeling position on the sofa finally wrenching your wrist from his now loosened grip.

“If it weren’t for me supporting you through school, Levi, we wouldn’t even have this house.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dieter says, arms tight across his chest.

“Ask anyone,” you insist, voice thick with emotion. “Hell, ask anyone from dinner tonight. They’ll tell you. They all know.”

“Dinner tonight just showed me how much you’ve changed,” Dieter says disgustedly. “I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

“You drank so much I’m shocked you remember any it.”

“I remember plenty,” Dieter says, face thunderous and now his tone has a biting edge to it, his eyes narrowed. He twists so that he’s fully facing you, one hand on the back of the sofa. “Surprised you didn’t blow the server when he brought the drinks. He’s just your type right?”

You lose yourself in the character; Cecelia’s anger is your anger. The man sitting across from you is not Dieter Bravo, he's Levi Jackson. The man that you love as much as hate. The man who is bringing up an ugly part of your past to make you cower to him.

You can't help it, your hand acts independently of you and you bring it back, throwing it through the air and slapping Dieter harshly across the face. His face snaps to the right, and you can see the slight pink color rushing to his cheek.

The smack echoes in the quiet room.

“Cut.”

Your hand remains raised in the air, stuck as if you’ve been frozen to the spot. Your mouth is agape and your eyes are circles in your face.

You're done. Your career is over.

You've just slapped one of the most famous actors in Hollywood. 

Goodbye Oscars. Goodbye fame and fortune. Goodbye life you thought you’d be living.

You watch as Dieter's large, ring-covered hand goes to cup his reddened cheek and he turns back to face you. You're shocked when you see him grinning widely at you, eyes bright. 

"Atta girl." 

Something like dizzying relief hits you when you see the smile and hear his words. You let out a wild breath of laughter, your hand lowering. The rest of the room is buzzing again, the silence replaced by urgent murmurs and the makeup lady coming over to put something on the red in Dieter’s face. He’s still smiling at you, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Dieter grins. “That was really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“With that slap? Nah. Gotta do it harder if you really wanna leave a mark.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re about to say more when you hear Jan call your name. She comes striding over, looking impressed and you rise up off the sofa, your smile plastered on for her.

"Alright thanks so much for coming in," she says shaking your hand. "Did you drive here? We can validate your parking."

You nod, still dazed from what just happened as you hand the stub to the young man flagging you down at the side if the room. You go to thank the woman for the opportunity but she's already turned to Dieter, you’re already forgotten. 

"Okay we have a few more women coming in to test against you,” Jan is telling him. “Try to maintain that same level of passion."

Dieter nods, but you see him glancing at you out the corner of his eyes. 

"And if you can, try to enunciate a bit better," she includes, looking at her notes. 

You don't hear any more of her critiques because you’re being ushered outside the doors towards the elevator. You glance back, wanting to remember this moment. If nothing else it has been an exhilarating time. You catch Dieter’s eyes on your just as someone from inside closes the doors.

///

A week later Gwen gives you a brief smile when you arrive at her office on Sunset. Your stomach is in knots as you climb into the chair across from her looming desk. 

Gwen holds no sentimentality, and there are no photos that line her desk, no charming nature photos or inspirational quotes, nothing to put you at ease. Just brick facade overlooking the busy street outside. 

"So," Gwen says pulling a folder in front of her and you see your name there in bold felt. "Is it true you slapped Dieter Bravo?"

Fuck. You're getting let go. This is it. You're gonna have to fight tooth and nail to get another agent. Fuck. Fuck.

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to remain as dignified as possible. If you’re going to be let go, you're not going to do it sniveling."I got caught up in the scene. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Gwen smirks, flipping open your folder. "They loved it."

"Wait, really?"

“Yeah, they want you back for a second reading.”

No one is more surprised than you when Gwen details that you’ve been called back for a second chemistry read that Friday.

When you walk back into the same hotel in Burbank you do so with a newfound confidence.

The first audition you could hand to Dieter. Without him, you never would have got through those doors. But now that they’ve seen what you can do they’ve called you back. This means something.

Right?

You walk into the same room only there are far less people today. Just Jan and the camera person. Oh, and Dieter of course with a tall serious looking woman that’s shaking her head at him.

You glance at the page with the scant amount of lines they supplied you with, going over your notes. You stand there reading for a few moments, unaware of the figure approaching you.

 “Hey Sudsy.”

Dieter greets you with a smile around a coffee cup. He’s wearing green leggings at least four sizes too big and a long black t-shirt underneath a huge black puffer vest. Despite how ludicrous he looks you know for a fact that everything he’s wearing is designer and worth more than your rent. His sunglasses are there, as they always are.

 “Hello.”

“I didn’t make any calls this time,” he assures you, an amused twist to his mouth. “This is all you.”

You give a small smile up at him, nodding. You can’t help but appreciate the fact that he’d emphasize he’d had no part in it. A dark part of you had been wondering if this was just a further favor.

There’s no time for more catching up because Jan is calling you both over, indicating to the small makeshift kitchen they’re utilizing. There’s green X’s on the floor and you make note of them as you’re instructed which ones to hit.

“So I know you were sent a few pages,” Jan says looking harried. “But that acts being rewritten so we’re gonna jump to page forty.”

"Oh I was told just to prepare that first, scene," you say nervously looking over the script and then at Jan.

"Today is more improv than anything," the woman says smiling. "Read the first page and then just go from there."

You nod. You were told by Gwen that today might contain improv, something that you’ve always been good with in the past. But it’s a lot different doing these fun improve classes with your classmates who are always in a good mood. Doing it in front of studio workers? It feels different.

You take a quick peruse at page forty, glancing up to see Dieter doing the same, his mouth moving as he silently reads. Jan gives you a minute before she's behind the camera with the bearded man, eyes on the scene. 

"Okay so this scene Cecelia is putting away dishes after the dinner party.  Levi is hurt by how she's treating him and he wants to go back to how it was all those years ago when you first fell in love. If you could hit those green marks this time. Okay? Ready when you are."

Everything is so fast, so whirlwind. That’s part of what you love about the business. But right now when you want to get everything right you want it all to slow down. You take a deep breath and for whatever reason you glance at Dieter standing off to the side. Somehow something in his warm brown eyes and the nod he gives you steadies you.

You stand on your first mark, using the props they’ve given you. A washcloth and a glass. You pretend to be cleaning them. You sigh softly, thinking of Cecelia and her broken heart. Of the humiliation she’s had to endure this evening. 

“Hey baby."

Dieter’s voice sails over to you from behind. You know from the script that he’s standing there behind you, leaning against the wall and watching you. You bristle under his gaze, frowning.

"I can't stand it when you drink," you say, shaking your head, eyes on the sink.

"And why's that?"

"You get maudlin," you say, pretending to put the dishes away. 

"You used to like that about me," Dieter says, his voice husky and you hear his footsteps approach. "Said it reminded you of thoughtful poets."

"I used to like a lot of things about you back then," you say with a cruel laugh, putting the glass to the side. "Things change."

This is where the script left off and you feel yourself panic slightly. You've always been good at improv but for some reason insecurities pop up.

They don't actually want me here.

I'm blowing this.

Fuck. What would Cecelia do? Say?

You look into the sink, feeling overwhelmed. Your shoulders hunch slightly and you can feel it, yourself being pulled from the scene, the energy leaving you. This is your one fucking chance and you’re blowing it!

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Look at me, Cece."

Dieter’s voice reaches out to you, dark and low. It breaks you from the whirring in your mind. You swallow and turn to face Dieter, your features pinched. Your spine is against the counter, your hands gripping the edge of it so tightly your knuckles are pale. 

You watch as he approaches yours, slow measured steps and dark eyes that don't leave yours. He’s taken off the sunglasses and the puffer jacket. Without them you notice the length of his lashes and the breadth of his shoulders.  It distracts you for a moment.

"What did you like?" Dieter asks as he comes to stand next to you at the sink, hitting his mark on the floor. You gaze up at him, your mind racing. 

"W-what?"

"I said what did you like?" He repeats, his body moving closer to yours. "Back then. What did you like about me, Cece?"

You think of your character Cecelia. A woman in love with a man who can't give her what she needs. You think of Levi: a man trodden down by life and how she's had to watch him change from the man she loves into this drunken loser. 

"I liked how ambitious you were."

"Mhmmm," Dieter nods and you feel his hands come to wrap around your waist, guiding you hips to his. "What else?" 

You feel yourself growing breathless by his proximity. This isn’t Dieter Bravo anymore. The puffer vest is gone, and instead you feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. This is Levi. A man who loves you as much as despises what you’ve become. You try to channel Cecelia as you feel his hips press tightly against yours, urging you back against the counter and pinning you there.

"And how you used to take me dancing."

You remember reading in the earlier script that Cecelia and Levi met dancing. Dieter obviously doesn't because his mouth hitches slightly in amusement. You think he can pass it off as tipsy. His hands go to the counter on either side of you, leaning in, taking up your space.

"I miss how it felt to wake up together," you say, chest tight. You're not expecting Dieters head to dip forward. Your eyes fall closed as you wait for his mouth on yours. But instead you feel his lips drag along your jaw. 

"That's all you miss?" Dieter murmurs against your neck as he begins to nuzzle there. "Nothing else?"

You shiver when he kisses you at that soft spot just behind your ear. His hand is on the back of your neck, holding you as he breathes heavily against it, lips full. You can feel his short beard rasp against the sensitive skin of your neck and you hold in a whimper.

Jesus.

You know that this is acting, that this is a job. But his voice is so delicious, rumbling against your skin and his body is so warm and for a moment you forget you're acting in front of a camera. 

"I miss the sex," you breathe, your eyes heavy lidded. You feel Dieter's face pull back, eyes surveying your eyes and gently parted mouth before your gaze locks with his. 

The air in the room is warm and it's like you can hear a pin drop. No one is moving; it's like you only exist with him in this moment. Cecila and Levi.

"I miss how you felt inside me."

Dieter’s breathing picks up and you don't miss how his neck bobs as he swallows. His face inches towards yours, hand still at your neck to keep you from moving back from him, not that you would. 

You feel his full mouth brush against yours, so lightly it could have just been air. His dark eyes are focused solely on your lips. Your hand goes to the collar of his t-shirt, a forefinger curling around it. 

"What else?"

"I miss how you used to take what you wanted," you say as his lips graze yours again. His fingers still stay splayed around your neck but his thumb is hooking around your lower lip, opening your mouth to him.  

"I miss-"

Whatever you were going to say next is lost as Dieter’s mouth presses against yours. His tongue immediately sliding between your parted lips needing to taste you. 

You groan, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling his lips more firmly against yours as he licks into your mouth. He kisses really really well with the kind of passion you feel going up your core. His hands slide along your spine before his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his front. And then soon, all too soon he pulls back from you.   

"You miss me," Dieter says against your mouth, his dark voice breathless. "But I'm right here, baby. Always have been. You just haven't been looking."

"Okay cut! Perfect." 

Jan’s voice breaks into the scene, pulling you both from the moment. You feel Dieter’s hand fall from your neck and body, his eyes losing that soft gaze as he steps back. When he releases you he does so slowly before stepping back, his eyes flying to that same tall woman in the corner as you break apart.  

You stand there, still tilted against the counter and feel yourself slowly break from the daze when Jan comes over, smiling and handing Dieter some new pages.  You sneak a glance over to Dieter and see him smirking at you before his eyes go back to his script.  

“That was really good,” Jan says to you, the surprise clear on her face. “I loved that energy, that coiled desperation.”

You try not to blush under the praise, even though after months of silence it feels so good to be told you’re doing well. You feel breathless, almost giddy. You hadn’t been expecting to feel so much so quickly. You’d assumed you’d need more warming up but you feel electric.

“Hey Stace,” Jan says going back to her chair and calling over to the young girl at the far side of the room that you hadn’t even noticed when you first came in. “Can we do something about the shine on Dieter’s face?”

You feel yourself breathing heavily, your entire body buzzing. Being in his arms, the taste of his peppermint gum still on your own tongue. 

"Alright thanks so much for coming in," Jan says with a wave.

You know the drill. You nod, giving a wave to the group before stumbling your way out of the room. You can’t look back this time; you can’t meet Dieter’s eyes because for some reason you feel completely undone.

You’ve never done a scene like that before and it gives you both a thrill and a giddy embarrassment. You know you’re smiling like an idiot as you exit the room, but this immediately ceases when you almost run into a tall and beautiful woman.

It's Haley Braccken, A-list actress and if rumors are to be believed, Dieter’s ex-girlfriend. 

You've seen them splashed over the cover of gossip magazines in grocery stores. A particularly lurid image of Dieter snorting coke off her bikini covered tits in Ibiza was especially popular when you were still working at your dead end office job. She's just as luminous in real life as she is on screen.

I thought they wanted an unknown.

Disappointment floods you as you pass her in the elevator. She gives you a polite nod, heading into the same room you've just exited. She smells expensive, like leather handbags and perfume you could never afford. You see her charm bracelet snugly around her wrist and it tinkles as she walks past you.

There's no way you're getting cast in this movie. Why did you raise your hopes up? Why did you think that you, a nobody with a shitty commercial under her belt, could go to against real actresses?

///

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Carlee insists that evening as you prepare for work later that afternoon. You pull on your starched dress shirt, groaning about Haley Braccken for the fiftieth time that evening. Carlee is impossibly patient and supportive.

“She’s beautiful Car,” you tell her frowning into the mirror. “Younger, more beautiful, more famous. Why the fuck wouldn’t they hire her?”

“She may be wrong for the part.”

“When you look like Haley Braccken, there is no wrong part.”

Carlee gives you a pat on the shoulder before moving from you. She knows there’s no point in talking to you when you’re morose like this. You hear her close the door to her bedroom and you sigh.

You go to grab your purse from the coffee table and are down the hallway when you hear the sharp ring of your cell. You’re surprised to see Gwen’s name come up on the display. It’s later in the day and there’s always that lingering doubt, that endless fear that she’s going to drop you.

“Hello?”

“You got a minute?”

“Yep.”

“Well, apparently the chemistry read was off the charts."

Gwen never sounds this warm. It’s actually surreal to hear her voice so excited in relation to your acting. So you must have done well. No, you must have done really fucking well. So you're not getting fired. Maybe Gwen just wants to congratulate you on a job well done, to say well done on not embarrassing the agency. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. And that’s saying something because rumor is Bravo can be hard to work with," Gwen observes shrewdly. 

"He was actually really helpful," you offer, feeling the need to come to his defense. "I had to rely on him for a lot and he really came through."

"That must be why the demo tested so well. I have to say I was pretty impressed myself."

"You saw it?"

"Of course. I need to know how my actors are performing."

An arrogant part of you wants to watch the footage, but another part doesn't want to bother. Its obvious that Dieter’s ex will have gotten the part and watching you act knowing there's no pay off seems wasteful. You need to focus on the next project, the next audition. 

"I'm glad I could represent you and the agency to your satisfaction," you say smiling. "It was really exciting to get in front of some big movers and shakers."

Gwen gives you a nod. "Well I just finished drawing up your final contract. So let's go over it tomorrow and we can talk next steps. Can you make it into the office?" 

"Contract?"

Your heart is pounding so loudly you can't hear anything else.

Ba boom ba boom.

Gwen is saying something but all you can hear is that quickening roar in your ears. The sound of blood rushing in them. You swallow shakily, looking at your reflection in the hallway mirror and see the elation in your brightness of your eyes. Suddenly you can hear everything. 

"Yeah. You got the part."

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