#which. again. its not their fucking fault its yours for not getting help to fix your shit

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Younger Gods: I

Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader (unnamed)

Dream is protective of his ravens after Jessamy, and he's still bad at listening. The reader finds this out the hard way.

Warnings: extremely mild gore/injury to animal, language, Dream is his own warning

A/N: Playing a little fast and loose with dream physics, but we're just here for a good time, right? I read the comics an age ago, and thought I might as well pop back into the fandom for a quick swim after falling in love all over again via Netflix. Aiming for 5 chapters, but we'll see where this takes us.

*Remember, to like is kind but to comment/repost is divine.

**If you'd like to join the taglist, please let me know in the comments!

Chapter 1: Just don't bite me

“How did you get here?”

She stared at the injured raven hopping across her garden like it might open its beak and speak. Give her some answers. It’s eye fixed on her, pinning her even as it fought gravity and pain, flapping with a wing bent the wrong way.

Glossy black feathers hid the blood it left on the long grass. If it didn’t move like something hurt, didn’t struggle to hold up its broken wing, she’d never guess it had crashed into her little world by accident. Which brought her back to the question.

It fluffed the feathers around its neck in an attempt to look bigger, croaking as it shuffled farther away. Soft thunder purred in the clouds, and the steady rain dripped from the tip of the raven’s beak. She held up her hands. Sank low on her heels, as near to the raven’s level as she could reach without falling flat on her belly. If that’s what it took to earn its trust, though, she’d get a little muddy.

For all that it was uninvited, the bird was her guest now, and if she didn’t take care of it, it could never leave. Maybe it would haunt her. Maybe she’d just feel guilty as hell.

“You’re hurt.”

The raven twitched, its head tilting three different ways, studying her expression from varied angles, like it would reveal malicious intent in the right light. He could look all he wanted, but she needed to get him out of the rain.

She started unwinding the thick, knit scar from around her neck, speaking low in an effort to keep the bird calm. “I have something that can help. It’s just a salve, but you’ll heal much faster, and I’m sure you’d like to be on your way as soon as possible. But I’m going to take you inside first, so you can get warm and dry. The rain never really stops.”

Prepared with the folded cloth, she crept forward a few steps, giving the bird time to move away. When it didn’t, she closed the distance and muttered, “Just don’t bite me, okay?”

“No promises, witch,” the raven said.

Her hands stilled an inch away from his feathers. So, he was magic. Magic and rude as fuck.

She spluttered, “I’m not a witch.”

“Yeah?” The raven looked up at the clouds and down at her cottage. “Well, this place is weird. And so are you.”

“It was the best I could do.” She carefully wrapped the scarf around him, mindful of the bad wing – and the beak. “Sorry it doesn’t live up to your standards.”

Her first guest, and all he could do was insult all her hard work. He scoffed but held still in his swaddling as she pulled up to her chest and tramped back inside.

It wasn’t her fault it rained all time. Well, technically it was, actually, but she liked it. The water looked beautiful running down the windows, and the cozy fire glowed bright enough to warm a soul when the trees rustled in the wind. With rain hushing over the roof and a whisper of distant thunder to keep her company, she never felt lonely.

Tasteless corvid.

She set him down by the fireplace while she chose a good blanket to craft a makeshift nest. Only when she’d stripped off the scarf and moved him to the softer resting place did she tug off her own drenched sweater, shivering until she found a good replacement. Her wet hair clung to her neck as she pulled a sweater three sizes too big over her head. The sleeves dangled past her fingers, and she shoved them up past her elbows in thoughtless habit.

The bird hadn’t taken his eyes off her, but he still mustered enough faith to thank her. Sort of.

“This is… nice.”

It sounded like an olive branch, so she took it as one. The one room cottage was her haven. Even if it looked small and worn, she found it warm and soft, kind in the way a home ought to be.

“I like to think so.”

She moved to the workbench under the window that looked out to the garden, where she’d been sitting when the raven dropped out of the clouds with an all too human cry. Her fingertips ghosted over herbs and pots and potions as she looked for the little vial she wanted. She only finished it a week ago. It would take three months to make another. But that was alright. No one else really needed it.

When she knelt beside the bird, vial open and ready to drip over his injuries, he clacked his beak at her.

“Not a witch, huh?”

The wing felt so fragile in her hand. She couldn’t let him distract her. “My mother was. I’m… weird.”

“You can say that again.”

“This might hurt.”

“What do you -?” He broke off in a sharp caw, instinctively jerking away as she pulled his bones straight.

“Sorry, sorry. The worst is over now, I promise.”

He had a wonderfully colorful vocabulary for a raven, and he shouted a few rainbows while she wrapped his wing in the best position to heal. The white gauze practically glowed against his onyx plumage, and he looked just a little more pitiable.  

“Sorry,” she repeated.

The bird shook himself, stretching and folding his good wing three times to push away the pain.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed. “Fucking damn. Teach me to pay attention. Kids and their fucking rocks.” He’d been staring into the fire as he recovered his equilibrium, but once he could pause his cursing, the bird looked back at his host.

“Name’s Matthew. What do I call you, weird girl who isn’t a witch?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you like.”

“I was asking for your name, lady.”

“I don’t have one I can give you.”

“That’s not helpful.” He looked around the room, probably on the hunt for something to critique, and although his beak opened, it snapped shut again when he looked back over his shoulder. He stared at her in the firelight, but not at her face. “What happened to your neck, lady?”

Her hand flew up to cover the scars, a landscape of smooth, raised, and sunken marks ringing her throat. She’d forgotten when she took off the scarf. Horror and humiliation twisted in her stomach, and she was wildly aware of being ugly and vulnerable in the same breath. Instead of answering, she rushed back to her closet, pulling out an even longer knit piece than the one she’d wrapped the bird – Matthew – in outside.

He picked up on the subtext, deflating a little and pointedly changing the subject.

“How long will this magic potion of yours take? I need to get back to the Dreaming. My boss is waiting for me.”

The scarf’s tail dropped from numb fingers, one loop short of her goal, left to trail on the ground as she wondered how the fuck her day could get any worse.

“The Dreaming?”

“Yeah. Know of many other realms with talking ravens, lady?”

“No,” she admitted, cursing herself in the privacy of her own thoughts. “It will take a couple days for you to fly again, I think.”

“That’s no good.” Matthew pecked at his bandages, and she rushed over.

“Stop that. You’ll make it worse.”

“Can’t fly with this,” he said, mouth full of gauze.

“You can’t fly without them, either,” she said gently.

Giving up with an enormous sigh, the raven wriggled down into the blanket and glowered through the window at the continuous rain. A little bolt of lighting reflected in his gleaming eye, like an idea sparking to life.

“Your weird little house is pretty close, you know,” he said. “To the Dreaming, I mean. I bet you could walk there.”

“It takes a day to walk in or out.”

“Why?”

“Because I made it that way.”

“Oh, you’re definitely weird.” He paused, like he was finally noticing the blanket nest and the empty vial glittering by the warm flames. When he spoke again, he sounded the slightest bit contrite. “Weird but nice. And I still need your help.”

“I don’t want to go to the Dreaming, Matthew.” She couldn’t bring her voice to carry more than a whisper. She was so afraid of her dreams she didn’t even sleep anymore. Not much. Walking into the fertile fields of the Dream Lord’s imagination…

“You don’t have to go in,” the raven insisted. “Just get me to the gates and I’ll be someone else’s problem. I promise.”

She couldn’t answer. She really didn’t dare. The laws of hospitality urged her to pick up the bird and carry him wherever he wanted to go, and he made it all sound so reasonable, so easy. Just a stroll and a hand over to a friendly face eager to welcome him back. It wasn’t, though. Oh, the walk was fine. She came and went from her hideaway world all the time, but her heart thrummed in terror to even think of the Dreaming. Was she really so close? Her home didn’t feel as safe as it had that morning. The security of the cozy storm left something wanting now. None of this was designed to keep other entities out. It was just… out of the way. On the other hand, if she left the bird – one of Dream’s ravens! – here to recover and his master came for him, it would never be a sanctuary ever again.

Maybe… if she was quick…

“I’ll –” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’ll try. I’ll walk you to the gates.”

“Thank you.” At least he sounded like he meant it. Lack of gratitude wouldn’t change her mind at this point, but she appreciated it. Walking twelve hours with a rude bird muttering under his breath didn’t sound like the fun kind of adventure.

None of this sounded like the fun kind of adventure.

Fun adventures involved late night diners and questionable life choices after two bottles of wine.

“My master needs me,” Matthew said, like he still needed to prove his point.

That was fine. That was great. Dream would be missing his raven soon. She was tempted to take a faster mode of travel, but she wasn’t sure what that would do to the raven, so she hurried to gather everything she’d need for the walk instead. Tall rainboots, a hooded jacket, and two shawls. She wrapped one around Matthew to keep him warm and tied the other around herself like a sling. With the bird nestled close to her natural warmth, she charged back into the rain. She didn’t even take the time to bank the fire.

Matthew, apparently, decided her rush was entirely for his benefit. “Thanks for this. I mean it.”

She paused at the edge of the garden, standing in the gap in the stone wall as she studied the horizon, looking for something to tell her where to go.

“Which way to the Dreaming?”

Matthew fidgeted and jerked his beak at a random point. “There. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, you know?”

She didn’t know or she wouldn’t have asked, but her breath was better saved for walking. Nearly running, she sped through the emerald green grass and low white flowers in the verdant moss. She didn’t look. Didn’t appreciate. Didn’t stop to touch, or pick, or smell. If she had the stamina to run the twelve hours, she would.

Pattering rain sounded louder inside her hood, and the sky broiled with clouds promising a real storm.

Maybe he could hear her heart pounding by his ear, or he finally realized she was moving awfully quickly for someone who didn’t want to go on this trip in the first place. Whatever his inspiration, Matthew dragged their conversation back from the dead to persuade her she’d made the right choice as she forded a narrow stream.

“You don’t have to be afraid of Dream,” he said. “If he’s upset, it will be with me. You’re doing me a favor.” He paused, struck by a new through that almost immediately spewed out his beak. “You’re not old enemies or something, are you?”

“No. I’ve never met him. I’d rather not meet him today.”

Matthew croaked. “Why not?”

Sometimes the truth was the simplest path to peace, and she’d like the bird to shut up for a while. “I have bad dreams. I don’t want to get any closer to them. Thanks.”

“You know, he could do something about that.”

“I don’t like favors.”

“But I’d argue he owes you one.”

“I’d argue that I don’t care.”

More croaking, this time accompanied by rustling from his safely bound wings. She remembered ravens were in the business of knowing things, watching and listening until they could deliver a secret whole and unbroken to their master. Her cagey replies must bother him on some deeper level.

“So why are you doing this? You clearly don’t want to.”

“Because you were hurt. You needed help. And I don’t want your master to come looking for you here.”

He cast incredible side-eye for a creature wrapped in home-knit outerwear strapped to a stranger’s chest.

But at least he shut-up.

It was the perfect landscape for long walks. She’d designed it that way. Gently rolling hills melted into copses of trees just too small to be forests but deep enough to lose the daylight below the tangled canopy. Any other day, she’d enjoy this trek. But now she wondered if she’d ever be able to enjoy it again, knowing which direction the Dreaming lay and how close it pressed to her border.

She slogged up the hills and slipped down the muddy sides, careful not to tumble and crush the fragile bird she carried against her chest. She slipped through the woods, ignoring the sweet smell of old loam and dried leaves. When the heavy rain came down in a curtain as the crested the last hill, she pushed through that, too.

The raven stayed awake for the entire trip. She shaved a full three hours off her usual time, and she reached the end exhausted. She should’ve packed a stimulant. Maybe an energy drink. Maybe a potion. Something. She had to get herself back home after this.

A field stretched to the cusp of oblivion, a black void at the edge of the turf her mind fought not to notice. She walked to the edge, slowing until she came to the brink, and then she had no ideas.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Well, you’re not a raven,” Matthew said. “I see where we need to go. Just trust me. There’s a path a few feet to the left.”

She shuffled obediently to the side, but she still saw nothing.

“Just take a step,” the bird insisted. “I’ll guide you through it.”

She didn’t want to. Every instinct from every element of her pedigree screamed that this was a Bad Idea. Relying on blind faith and a raven’s intuition might lead her into the Dreaming, but she bet she’d have a long fall someone with wings wouldn’t consider a problem. Some little oversight would swallow her whole, and nightmare would eat her alive, or she’d be trapped in her own night terrors.

“Why don’t I just leave you here?” She could hear the panic in her wobbling pitch, and her trembling hands banished any doubt as she reached for the knot in the sling.

“I thought you didn’t want Morpheus to come looking for me in your weird little bubble realm.”

She closed her eyes. Drew a shaky breath. No, she didn’t want that, but would it be worse than voluntarily stepping into that darkness? The raven couldn’t protect her. He wouldn’t even know what was safe for her, really. He was flying on a lot of assumptions, and she didn’t want to pay the price for his optimistic naivety.

“I don’t know what the void will do to me,” she confessed. “I’ve never actually… touched it.”

“It won’t do anything,” the raven said. “And it’s so thin you won’t even notice. The Dreaming is right there.”

Fucking hell. Her hands seized air, opening and closing like she could snatch courage out of thin air. Damn it all.

She lunged into the thing she didn’t even want to look at, and for the barest moment, she felt it. Nothing. No pulse. No breath. No thought or feeling at all. A gap stretched between past and present, like she’d been snuffed out – or never began to exist in the first place.

Then her momentum carried her through in a boggling mess of physics, and she was somewhere again.

Air punched into empty lungs, and she stumbled, nearly falling to her knees as light, sound, and her own heartbeat returned.

“Whoa! Hey! Watch out for the water!”

Matthew’s shout brought her eyes down, and she saw dark waves lapping at her feet, sucking them into the black sand as the foam tried to climb up and over her rain boots. The fact that sea foam was trying to do anything clued her into the water’s threat, and she darted away with her newly-beating heart in her throat.

“Well done. You see? Not so bad. You’re fine.”

It had been one of the worst experiences in her fucked-up life, and she might’ve told him so if she had the breath. Instead, she barely managed to mutter, “I think I hate you.”

“Nah.”

She stopped to push the last of the void from her lungs, sucking in oxygen like she’d never tasted it before, and the sensation stirred several memories she couldn’t take time to stop and fight. Not on the shores of the Dreaming. Not so close to the Lord of Nightmares. She wrestled them down, threw other thoughts and needs over them like a rug over a stain. Her horrors would have to wait until she slept again, and she planned on putting that off for a long, long time.

When she felt ready and able to move again, she asked, “Where to now?”

“The gates,” he said, like he thought she was the stupid creature alive.

She looked away from her feet and finally noticed the looming doors further down the beach. Silently, she had to agree that she was, in fact, incredibly stupid. They were hard to miss, taller than a skyscraper, carved over in faces, beasts, and scenes she didn’t recognize, gleaming like aged ivory. Beautiful and awe-inspiring in the way an angel or the Milky way inspired reverence and respect. Something a little too vast for her to grasp, but towering over her regardless.

Yeah. Time to get this over with.

As she power-walked across the cold sand, shadowed by the rocks piercing out of the waves, she unknotted the sling and pulled Matthew out of his cocoon.

“This bus has come to the end of its route,” she said. “We hope you’ve enjoyed your trip.”

The raven cackled, trying to stretch his wing in spite of the way she still cradled him. “You find a sense of humor in the void?”

“No, just a sense of relief. Seriously. Watch where you’re flying next time. I won’t have another healing salve like a gave you for several months, so if you do this again, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” He was all but straining forward in her hands, eager to get home, to complete his mission and reassure his master that all was well. “You sure you don’t want to meet my master? Or Lucienne?”

It didn’t matter she didn’t know who Lucienne was. She didn’t need to meet any more dreams – or servants of dreams. “Very.”

“So, you’re just going to ding-dong-ditch Dream of the Endless?”

“Yup.”

“Suit yourself.”

The sand made it harder to keep her pace, sliding away under her heels, sapping her strength as she hurried to drop her guest off at his front door. Waves of power rolled down from the high wall, and she felt trapped against the tide of Dream’s domain and the dark ocean lapping up the shore behind her. Everything looked grand and stark. She didn’t belong with her green boots and her rain-slicked jacket. The hood had fallen back, and a damp strand decided to stick on her cheek. With her hands full of bird, she had no way to pull it off.

Cold, wet, disheveled.

Tired.

Afraid.

She was ready for this adventure to end.

“How are you going to get back through the void?” the bird asked.

She shook her head, amazed. “You just thought to ask that? Never mind. I have a shortcut.”

“What kind of shortcut? Why did we just walk for nine hours in the rain?”

She plucked at the end of the second shawl, the one she used to keep him warm on that nine-hour trip through the storm. Such gratitude.

“Because I didn’t know what it would do to you.”

“I can survive the void, lady, you think your shortcut’s tougher than that?”

How far away was the damn gate? Would this beach never end?

“All that matters,” she panted, “is that you’re going home. I’m going home.” She turned the bird in her hands so they were eye-to-eye. “And we will never have to see each other again.”

Sounding more human than ever, the bird tutted, but whatever he wanted to say was swallowed in a sudden, sharp wind.

The austere stillness consumed itself in a rage, lifting black sand and sea spray into an impenetrable haze. One second, she could see the gate. The next, she could barely see three feet in front of her. Shielding her eyes from the sand with one arm, she instinctively tucked the bird close, bending over him protectively. The grit gave the wind claws, and it lashed her bare flesh raw.

What have you done with my raven?

The question pressured her from all sides, a crushing, physical weight ringing in her ears as it forced her to cower in on herself. She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. Matthew squawked and fluttered in her arms, flopping free with half a scarf still wrapped around him, tangled in his claws. “Sir, wait! Sir!”

The raven’s call settled the hurricane, but the overwhelming pressure remained. The lingering effect of the voice pressed against her soul like a death knell as a figure gathered itself, standing between the two travelers and the gate. The raven struggled towards the tall, dark shape, and she all but slapped herself in the face in her fight to get the dust out of her eyes, nose, and mouth.

Matthew called the newcomer sir.

She was peering up at Dream of the Endless.

He knelt to accept the bird, face dark as a nightmare. Long, pale fingers explored the broken wing. When they pulled away, a few rusty crumbs of blood clung to the pads, and eyes burning with angry stars lifted to pierce her.

He asked again, “What have you done with my raven?”

This time the voice was a voice, not a force of nature. He sounded like smoke and sand, deep and sure as the ocean at her back. That voice might scour her away like a rough patch in his perfect Dreaming, and nothing in his tone said she was welcome.

Now she felt like the raven – a little bird with a hoarse cry and hollow bones all too easy to snap.

“You hurt something of mine.” A snarl carved into his face, and even as Matthew squawked for his lord’s attention, the Dream Lord reached out.

His shadow stretched long and dark from his feet, against the light. It crept towards her, darker than the black shore, and she stumbled over her own feet as she backed away, landing hard on her hands.

“I didn’t,” she whispered. Her voice was long gone. It fled and left her to die whimpering and pathetic, the traitor. Scrambling back as the shadow approached, she shook her head. “Please, don’t.”

Cawing and flapping, Matthew shouted, “Sir, stop!”

The shadow slowed, just for an instant, and she leapt to her feet. Tears burning her eyes from fear and grit, she ran three steps back, never daring to take her eyes off the threatening Endless. She clawed into her own mind, grabbing for the half of herself she preferred to leave wandering the sky over her cottage. A rumble drew Dream’s eyes to the dark clouds gathering at the edge of the Dreaming, and she saw his eyes flick back to her just as the lightning struck.

Her summoned bolt traced down to catch her up in a flash of burning light. The crackle was almost unbearable, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Dream’s shadow was still snaking after her.

She wasn’t there when the shadow reached the place she’d stood. The lightning blast reached through her to the ground and then back up into the clouds. It took her with it.

An echoing strike deposited her in the cottage garden.

She fell to her hands and knees as the power zapped away into the sky. Mud squished up between her fingers, and she shuddered in place, too busy shaking to move. Rain rolled down her face, cleaning the salt of sweat, tears, and sea. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy after weightless, electric travel, and she bowed to the animal urge to just freeze in place for a while. She needed to think. Maybe then she could remember how to stand.

An Endless wanted her dead. Dream, no less. She had more reason than ever to stay awake. Maybe she could find a trick to avoid sleep forever.

But his raven knew where she lived, and it wasn’t a long trip.

She needed to run.

Chapter 2

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #fanfiction

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 17 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke arrives in Crested Butte and meets some locals. Spencer has his own problems to deal with.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - drinking, brief mentions of sex, swearing, bribery, false allegations, sexual abuse. WC - 5.8k

Chapter 17 - Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

You didn’t remember much about returning to the cabin last night as upon arriving back in Butte you and Spencer had indulged in one two many drinks at The Eldo before finally stumbling home well after midnight. 

Judging by the fact your body was sore and you were naked, you’d probably had sex more than once and your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes, but you felt at peace. 

Spencer stirred next to you, pulling you closer to his body and kissing your messy hair. 

“I swore I’d never drink that much again.” He grumbled. 

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.” You agreed. 

“I think that was more my fault than the alcohol. I’m fairly certain we had sex at least five times. And from memory it got pretty rough.” He pulled you even closer. 

“Worth it.” You smiled sleepily, resting your head on his chest. “I feel like shit, but I also feel on top of the fucking world.”

“Hmm, me too.” He agreed, nuzzling his face against your head. 

“Don’t get excited, I don’t think my body can handle anymore sex right now.” 

“Trust me when I say I don’t even think I have the energy to get it up.” He chuckled. 

“That is music to my ears right now.” You giggled. 

“Give it time, I’m sure there’s only so long I can lay next to a beautiful, naked woman before it happens of its own accord.” 

“Fair enough.” You giggled again. “I can handle that. But I never want to drink again in my life.” 

“Agreed.” Spencer exhaled before adding. “You know, until next time.” 

You snuggled into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and slinging one leg over his. In that moment you felt invincible. 

***

McGill’s Diner on Elk Avenue had a traffic camera positioned between the ground and first floor windows, capturing every car that passed by. It was the same camera that had witnessed the little blue Nissan purchased by Andrew Burnett in Franklin County, Virginia, drive up and down the street multiple times over the last week. 

With no better place to start, Luke parked up at the curb and headed inside. He was under strict instructions from Prentiss that he was to not treat this like a federal investigation, they had no idea what they were dealing with and they didn’t want to alert the townsfolk to FBI presence. He was simply a concerned friend. 

To stave off temptation, he left his creds in the hire vehicle he’d driven the forty minutes from Gunnison-Crested Butte Regional Airport. He did however keep his firearm visible in his holster on his hip. 

A little bell chimed above the door as he entered the diner. It was late enough that the breakfast rush was over and early enough for the lunchtime crowd not to have surfaced yet so it was reasonably quiet. There was an older couple in a booth over the back and a younger man and woman sitting at the counter. 

Luke made his way over to where a guy around your age was fixing a pot of coffee behind the counter. He looked up when he heard Luke approached and offered him a friendly smile. He wore a green flannel shirt over a black tee which had some kind of stain down it. 

“Hi there,” he put down the coffee pot and gave Luke his full attention. “Can I get you a table?” 

“No, thanks. I’m actually looking for some people. My friends, I think they might be here.” Luke dove straight in. 

“Sure, I might be able to help. Most people come through here even if they're just in town for a day or two. Our coffee is pretty good.” 

“Is this your place?” 

“No, my dads.” The man wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it towards Luke. “Jesse McGill.”

“Luke Alvez.” Luke shook his hand. “So like I said, I’m looking for my friends. Rose and Andrew Burnett. I can show you pictures if you like?” 

“No, that’s ok.” Jesse rolled his lip between his teeth. “I know them. Well, I know her better than him, never really spoken to him but I’ve seen him around.” 

“They still in town?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, I guess so. Haven’t seen them for a few days so I can’t be sure. People come and go, you know? This place is a bit of a tourist trap.” Jesse shrugged.

“A ski resort isn’t much of a tourist trap in spring time.” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse, feeling as though the man was hiding something from him. “You know where they’re staying?”

Jesse straightened his back, running a hand through his thick beard while he contemplated how to answer that. Luke could tell he knew exactly where they were staying but for whatever reason, didn’t want to share the information. He knew all it would take to get it out of him would be to flash his FBI badge, but of course Prentiss had ordered him not to.

Jesse was mulling over what you’d told him the other night about Rose not being your real name and not really being married and now a stranger had shown up looking for you, that couldn’t be good.  

Something happened and we had to leave our jobs, our homes, that’s what you’d said to him. Were you running from someone, someone like this man in front of him? He didn’t want to risk your safety or betray your trust. He didn’t get a good vibe from this Luke Alvez character.

“No, sorry I don’t.” He shrugged again. “Like I say, haven’t seen them in a few days, they may have already left town.”

Luke wasn’t buying any of this. Jesse knew exactly where you and Spencer were but he wasn’t going to tell Luke. Why, Luke didn’t know, but without his FBI creds to back him up he knew he wasn’t going to get much further. Maybe he’d reassess, call Prentiss and tell her that no one was talking to him and he needed some authority on his side. 

“Well, you also said most people come through here right? So I’ll take that table now and a cup of that coffee and I’ll wait.” Luke smiled smugly at him and subtly put his hands on his hips to draw attention to his firearm. 

Jesse glanced down at it and the fear he’d felt for your safety only doubled. What the hell kind of trouble were you in and how could he alert you to it without arousing suspicion? For now he nodded, motioning Luke towards a table and following him over with the pot of coffee. He left him alone after that but kept a watchful eye over the stranger in his diner.

Luke pulled out his phone and texted Prentiss to let her know that he’d arrived in the Butte but hadn’t had much luck yet. He sipped the coffee, which he couldn’t deny was pretty incredible and stared at the door as if it would magically open and you would stroll in. 

He was only sitting there for about a minute before a young girl with bright red hair who had been sitting at the counter slid into the booth opposite him. She had a curious look in her large green eyes as she leant on the table with her elbows.

“I know Andrew Burnett pretty well.” She cut to the chase.

“Really?” Luke cocked his eyebrow at her. 

“We hooked up a few times.” She shrugged, her words causing Luke to pull a face.

“You and S…Andrew?” 

“Yep.” 

“How old are you?” Luke’s brow furrowed heavily, thinking there was no way Spencer would sleep with this girl. 

“Twenty seven.” She sat straight and puffed out her chest but Luke’s disbelieving look caused her to huff. “Fine, I’m twenty two.” 

“Yeah, uh, no offence but I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep with a twenty two year old.” Luke clucked. 

“Well, he did. More than once.” She smirked smugly. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything because of his little wifey, but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.” 

“Wifey as in Rose?” 

“Uh huh, between you and me she seems kinda like a stick in the mud.” 

“That stick in the mud is my friend.” Luke scowled at her. 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s no better. She might be boring but he has some anger issues.” She picked at one of her nails.

“Anger issues?” Luke frowned, it wasn’t the first time someone had inferred that about Spencer recently.

“Yep. I think he controls Rose, she always seems a little timid round him. And then there was the time he practically threw me against a wall.” 

“He…are you sure?” Luke was frowning so hard he felt a headache pinching at his temples. 

“Yeah that’s not the kind of thing you forget. He couldn’t keep it up, tried to blame me for it. So I told him he probably couldn’t keep it up because he was old…no offence.” 

“None taken.” Luke pulled a face.

“Anyway so he just freaks, gets me up against the wall and yells in my face and I swear he’s going to hurt me.” She finished with a shake of her head.

“Did he?” 

“No, but I think he wanted to.” 

Luke pulled out his phone and got up a photograph of Spencer which he turned to show the girl. 

“Is this the man you’re talking about?” 

“Yep, that’s him.” She nodded. “You say you know him, you must know what he’s like.” 

“Yeah, see that’s the thing, I don’t know him to be an angry or violent man. So what I’m wondering is maybe you had a little crush on him and he rebuffed you and so you’re making up stories to tarnish him and make yourself feel better.” Luke picked up the coffee mug and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m not five.” She spat. “I know what happened. I was just trying to help but if you don’t need-”

“Ok, Mary, that’s enough now.” She was cut off by a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Jesse standing over her. “You can leave now.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, sliding out of the booth and sulking away. Jesse soon took her place, sitting down opposite Luke and exhaling through his nose.

“Look, I don’t make a habit of agreeing with her, but I think she might be telling you the truth.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Rose told me something bad happened to them and that she had get away and when you strolled in here looking for them, I thought maybe you were the something bad, you know?” 

Luke nodded slowly, sitting forward in his seat. 

“But you don’t think so now?” Luke narrowed his eyes on Jesse. 

“No.” Jesse shook his head. “You’re a cop right? Shoulda noticed that before, you scream law enforcement.”

“FBI.” Luke whispered so no one else would hear. “I’m not here on official capacity though, I worked with Y/N and Spencer, they’re my friends and I really am just trying to find them.” 

“Y/N and Spencer?” Jesse frowned. “She told me Rose wasn’t her real name but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. They’re FBI?” 

“They were, until a while ago when they just skipped down.” Luke ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he shouldn’t be telling Jesse any of this. “You said you thought that kid was telling the truth? Why?” 

Jesse exhaled again, looking sceptically at Luke as though he still wasn’t sure he trusted him. He ran his fingers through his beard and pulled a face that Luke couldn’t place.

“When I first met Rose…Y/N, she told me her “husband” was a drunken bully. I got the impression she was scared of him. I asked her if he hurt her and she said no but she did say that he had a temper. He’s a skinny dude but there’s something about him that makes me think he wouldn’t hesitate in kicking someone’s ass. He doesn’t strike me as stable, if that makes sense.” Jesse looked uncomfortable sharing this information, like he was betraying you in doing so.

“It makes absolutely zero sense, but if you knew Spencer Reid, it wouldn't make sense to you either.” Luke shook his head.

“I’m scared for her.” Jesse admitted, leaning on the table and lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “They’re staying on Gothic Avenue, big cabin right at the end. Come out of here and go straight up 4th, take the second right onto Gothic. Keep going for about a half mile and it's the big one on the corner right before the large rec.” 

“You did the right thing.” Luke smiled at him, reaching into his pocket and subtly sliding his card across the table which Jesse quickly took. “If you see either of them, please call me.”

“Sure.” Jesse nodded, soon sliding out of his chair and walking away.

Luke downed the rest of the coffee and got to his feet, making quick work of getting outside and back into his hired car and following Jesse’s instructions, drove towards the Gothic Avenue cabin. 

But he wasn’t the only one on that particular mission and he didn’t notice the redhead following him outside and heading the same way on foot. 

***

It was just before lunch time, after some extremely lazy sex that you finally dragged yourself out of bed, your hunger getting the better of you. But you soon came to find the cupboards were empty. 

Spencer bribed you with sexual favours you probably would have gotten anyway, to go down to Scout’s as he physically couldn’t prise himself away from the bed. Reluctantly you’d agreed, taking a quick shower to wash the stench of sex off of you before dressing and heading outside. 

You got about a third of the way down Gothic Avenue when you suddenly felt as though you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention and you felt something was wrong in your gut. You picked up your pace, partially wishing you’d had the forethought to bring the Colt with you. 

Just before you made it to 4th Street a hand clamped down on your shoulder. You were trained for this. You knew exactly what to do. 

Without even so much as taking a breath, you spun quickly on your heels and sent your fist flying into the face of your potential attacker. They stumbled backwards with a loud groan of pain, hands flying to where you’d just punched them in the nose.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He yelped, glaring at you as he held his nose. 

You stared at the man you’d hit wide eyed as the air felt like it escaped your lungs. 

“L-Luke?” You stuttered, wobbling on your feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Nice to see you too.” He grumbled. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You repeated. 

“Where’s Spencer?” He let go of his nose and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You didn’t miss a beat.

“Sorry, I meant Andrew. Andrew Burnett, your husband.” He nodded his head towards the wedding band. 

“Goddamnit.” You growled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “How did you find us?” 

“We’re profilers, Y/N. Come on.” He rolled his eyes. “Garcia found Reid’s car. We tracked you to a used car lot and the car you bought with Spencer’s fake licence. We put out an APB on the Nissan and found it had been picked up on cameras in this town several times.” 

“Are the rest of the team here?” You folded your arms across your chest.

“No, just me. We’re shorthanded, remember?” 

“Good. You need to leave, you have no idea what you’ve walked into.” 

“Y/N,” he softened, stepping towards you. “Has Spencer done something? Has he threatened you?” 

“What? Why would you think that?” You scoffed.

“I spoke to some people in town and they seem to think he’s this violent, angry man.” 

“Who told you that?” You frowned at him. 

“That doesn’t matter. You need to tell me what’s going on. You understand that this looks bad, right?” Luke pleaded with you. 

“We just wanted to get away. Spencer’s been struggling since prison and I was feeling stifled at the BAU. So we decided it might be a good idea to just get away from it all for a while.” You tried to insist but you knew Luke wasn’t buying it.

“I might believe that if it wasn’t for the burner phones and fake IDs and burnt out cars.” He spat. “You were an FBI agent for a long time, you know what that looks like, don’t you?” 

It looks like two criminals on the run. It looks exactly like what it is.

“What are you implying, Luke?” You frowned heavily at him.

“If Spencer has done something, to you or to anyone else, you can tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything.” He looked deep into your eyes and you felt for a brief moment that bond between the two of you. 

You could tell him anything, you knew that much. Luke Alvez had done nothing but stick by your side through everything and you knew this would be no different. 

You reached up and fiddled with the rose gold heart pendant around your neck. Did you love Spencer enough to protect him from this? Or was this finally your way out? 

***

Spencer threw the pillow over his head and groaned deeply as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. The alcohol from last night that still seemed to be drowning his brain cells meant it felt like whoever was knocking was doing so directly against his skull. 

His plan had been not to leave this bed all day. His drive to and from South Dakota plus an exuberant amount of sex had drained his energy and the scotch he’d consumed left him feeling dizzy. 

The knock came again, followed in quick succession by the doorbell. Whoever it was clearly didn’t plan to go away easily. He groaned, his head spinning as he forced himself out of the comfort of the plush bed. His eyes were blurry and made trying to find any semblance of clothes almost impossible. 

As a third knock sounded he managed to locate his boxers and stumbled trying to put them on. His legs wobbled frantically as he slowly crept from the bedroom and down the stairs. 

His stomach lurched as he walked and he briefly thought he might throw up but thankfully it passed. He continued through the living room towards the door as the doorbell rang once more.

“Jeez. Alright I’m coming.” He belched rather unceremoniously. “Jesus I’m still drunk.” 

He threw open the door, keeping hold of it to help steady himself. He blinked a few times against the bright red assault of colour on his retinas before focusing on her face. He groaned, suddenly wishing he’d made an effort to put more clothes on and that he wasn’t standing here in just his boxers with her on his front porch.

“Fucking hell, what do you want?” He leant against the door jamb, not trusting his wobbly legs to stand unaided. 

“Well that’s just rude.” Mary smirked at him and there was something menacing to it. “I just want to talk.” 

“We have nothing to talk about.” He stood back up, moving to close the door in her face only in his state she was faster and she shoved her hands against the wood to stop it from closing. 

“Oh I think we have a lot to talk about.” Her smirk grew. “Why don’t you invite me in, Spencer Reid?”

***

“You can tell me anything.” Luke repeated when you were silent for some time. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Oh please, Spencer couldn’t hurt a fly and you know it.” You shook your head. 

“So he didn’t give you those bruises on your neck?” Luke looked quietly smug. 

You unfolded your arms and one of your hands went to your throat. You’d gotten used to them being there if truth be told and didn’t think much of them most of the time. 

“It’s not what it looks like.” You brushed your fingers over the bruises.

“Oh really? Because to me it looks like he tried to strangle you.” Luke hissed.

“Fucking christ, Alvez,” you spat back, grinding your teeth furiously. “You really want me to stand here and tell you I like it when he puts his hand around my throat when he fucks me?” 

You swore you saw the exact moment Luke’s heart shattered in his chest. His eyes softened and he stumbled backwards, his mouth falling open as a pain washed across his face. You instantly regretted your harsh choice of words but it was too late. 

“You’re…you’re sleeping with him?” He couldn’t hide the upset from his voice despite how hard he tried. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “We’re, uh, together I guess.” 

“You are aware he’s sleeping with some young redhead, right?” Spencer spat. 

“What? How do you know about Mary?” You glared at him. 

“I met her! She told me that Spencer got aggressive with her when he couldn’t get it up. I didn’t believe her at first but then that McGill guy said you’d told him that your “husband” was a bully.” Luke sounded exasperated. 

“You talked to Jesse?” You spat. “Luke, you had no right! You had no right to follow us here in the first place. We’re happy here, just let it go.” 

“Happy? Happy?” He scoffed, stepping towards you. “You’ve got a fucking trail of bruises around your neck and I’m starting to think they aren’t the only ones.” 

Before you could reply, Luke was grabbing one of your hands and pushing the sleeve of the pink wool sweater up your arm revealing more finger shaped bruises circling your wrist. 

“Goddamnit, conejito, really? You’re happy? You’re happy being abused?” He dropped your arm and stepped back, sadly shaking his head. 

“It’s not abuse, jeez. We like rough sex Luke, so what?” 

“Oh my god, please stop talking about you and Reid’s sex life.” 

“Are you jealous?” You scowled at him. “Are you jealous because he’s got all you ever wanted?” 

He frowned at you, looking at you like he didn’t recognise you anymore, like he was standing in front of a stranger. He took a step back, shaking his head in disappointment. 

“Maybe once this is what I wanted, yeah. But you aren’t the same person anymore, are you? You’re not my conejito.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“I was never your conejito, Luke.” You spat. “You need to leave, you shouldn’t be here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain to me what’s going on. What has Spencer done? What are you scared of, Y/N?” Luke begged.

“Spencer has done nothing but love me! We wanted a fresh start, away from the BAU and all the bullshit. I don’t need you anymore Luke, I don’t need you protecting me. Let me go, for the love of god just let me go!” You raised your voice. 

“I think something happened,” he stepped closer to you. “I think Spencer did something really bad and you’re covering for him because you’re scared. You don’t need to be scared, Y/N. Just tell me what he’s done and I can help you.” 

He reached for you but you slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me. Spencer has done nothing wrong, Jesus just because you’re an FBI agent doesn’t mean you always have to think like one. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one. And in this case it’s as simple as we wanted to get away and we knew we’d never be able to do that as Y/N Y/L/N and Spencer Reid.” You growled at him, your back well and truly up. 

“You’re lying.” He bit back. “I know you better than you know yourself and I know when you’re lying. We’re the best goddamn profilers in the world and I swear to you, Y/N, we will find out what he’s done and we will come for him. Don’t let yourself become collateral damage.” 

“Burden of proof.” You shrugged, a wry smile on your face. You remembered so well having a conversation with Spencer in his apartment about the same subject not so long ago. “You say you’re the best goddamn profiliers in the world, but so are me and Spencer. And if, hypothetically, he'd done something, do you really think he’d leave behind any evidence?” 

“You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just tell me what I need to know.” Luke continued to plead with you. 

“You need to know nothing, except for the fact Spencer and I love each other and we are in this together until the bitter end. So why don’t you hop back on the jet and leave us the fuck alone.” You spat so venomously that Luke was actually a little scared of you. 

“You’ve changed.” He shook his head sadly. 

“And you never will.” You pushed past him on the sidewalk, deciding to forgo Scout’s in lieu of going home. 

Your blood was boiling in your veins as you marched back towards the cabin, furious at the BAU for tracking you down, angry at Luke for coming all the way out here. 

But it was only the beginning. 

***

“What do you want from me?” Spencer sat on the couch while Mary stood over him, wishing he weren’t still tipsy and clouded by last night's scotch. 

“I want to know why two FBI agents are hiding out in our town using fake names.” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to insist but he wasn’t able to control his facial expressions the way he normally would. 

“Does the name Luke Alvez mean anything to you?” She scrutinised him and Spencer fought with his expression not to give anything anyway but the scotch was in control.

“No.” He shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you.” She spoke in a sickly sweet tone. “Because I met him and he seems pretty convinced that you and Rose…or should I say Y/N are FBI agents who just dropped their whole lives and ran off without a trace.” 

She met Luke? Luke is here? Why the fuck is Luke here? What the hell is happening? 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He folded his arms across his bare chest. 

“Let’s try this again,” she came closer to him. “And I swear to god if you’re not honest with me…”

“What? You'll do what?” He scoffed at her. 

“I’ll tell everyone the truth about who you are.” She shrugged.

“And you think they’d believe you?” He chuckled. “You think they will believe a story as convoluted as this? Sweetheart, they will think you’re crazy.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mary shrugged. “Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me.” 

Spencer stared at her in utter horror of what she was saying but she looked nothing by smug. His heart started hammering so hard in his chest he felt even sicker than he already had done. He searched for a sign she was bluffing but saw none. 

He was taken back to an interrogation room at a woman’s correctional facility. He could see her so clearly in front of him, Cat Adams telling him she was pregnant with his child. He could hear her wicked voice in his ears. 

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood. 

“W-what?” He stammered. “That’s not the kind of thing you lie about.” 

“Tell me the truth then.” She shrugged. 

“I’m not telling you shit.” He shook his head, pushing himself up to his wobbly legs. 

“Well then, I guess I’ll go. Who should I start by telling? My dad? My brothers?” She started towards the door but Spencer quickly moved and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, somehow able not to fall flat on his face. 

“Listen you little bitch,” he shook her by her arm, growling in her face. “Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?”

“You know you’re not helping yourself right? If you bruise me it’ll only make my story seem more believable.” She glanced at his hand on her wrist and he quickly let her go. “And don’t think I haven’t seen the bruises on your lovely wife. I’m sure she would back up my story.” 

“The only story she would back up is the one where you’re a desperate little whore who shamelessly wanted to fuck a man you perceived to married.” He snapped at her. 

“Well I guess we’ll see won’t we? Who’s going to believe the strange out of towner over the young, innocent girl.” She pouted. 

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look. 

“What do you want? Why do you care who I really am? Fine, if it’s going to shut you up, yes, my name is Spencer Reid. I was an FBI agent and so was Y/N. We changed our names and left town. Why do you even care?” He sighed in exasperation. 

“I guess FBI agents make pretty good money, right?” She mused and Spencer felt his stomach coil into knots at the insinuation.

“That’s what this is about? You want money?” He scoffed.

“I told you I want out of this town. I work three jobs and I am nowhere close to having enough. Finding out your little secret is the best thing that could have happened to me. So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me. Ten grand should do it.” Her smirk grew tenfold and Spencer felt the anger rising throughout his whole body. 

But his brain was still clouded in a thick fog of alcohol. If he’d been at full capacity he would have easily been able to figure a way out of this, but right now all he could think of was killing Mary. The only problem with that was his guns and hunting knife were upstairs.

He could strangle her to death, feeling as she took her last breath. But he knew better, even in his state, that killing someone close to home would only come back to bite him in the ass. He’d been so careful up until now and he couldn’t ruin everything because of this stupid bitch. There had to be another way.

Mary was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, much like he was. He’d tricked everyone in this town into thinking he was just the mild mannered Andrew Burnett here with his wife to escape the big city. But in reality he was a violent killer, an injustice collector of sorts. Maybe Mary was his karma and now was his time to pay up. 

“Let’s just talk about this, please?” He begged her, eyes flickering somewhere off to the side as he sensed a movement by the kitchen. 

“No, no more talking.” She shook her head, clearly not noticing he was distracted. “You pay me now or I will go straight to the cops.” 

If she heard the sound of the gun being cocked, it was too late. And then suddenly the reverberation of a single gunshot filled the room and the bullet pierced straight through the back of Mary’s head, exiting between her eyes and continuing into the wall next to the front door.

The last sound Mary made was a small gasp as she collapsed on the floor in a pool of her own blood at Spencer’s feet. The shock was written all across his face as he looked up at you, still holding the smoking gun in your hand. 

You tucked it in your waistband and strolled closer to Spencer whose mouth was hanging open and wide eyes glared at you in a stupor. 

“W-what did you…? Why did you?” He croaked out as you stepped closer, not a single hint of remorse in your eyes. 

“Karma’s a bitch.” You shrugged simply. “And so was she.” 

Hahaha, this is about you.

Beware, beware, be sceptical,

Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold.

Deceit so natural,

But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.

Baa baa, black sheep, have you any soul?

No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals?

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,

Jill's a little whore, and her alibis are dirty tricks.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Aware, aware, you stalk your prey,

With criminal mentality.

You sink your teeth into the people you depend on,

Infecting everyone, you're quite the problem.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, you better run and hide,

I smell the blood of a petty little coward.

Jack be lethal, Jack be slick,

Jill will leave you lonely, dying in a filthy ditch.

So could you,

Tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Maybe you'll change,

Abandon all your wicked ways,

Make amends and start anew again.

Maybe you'll see,

All the wrongs you did to me,

And start all over, start all over again.

Who am I kidding?

Now, let's not get overzealous here,

You've always been a huge piece of shit.

If I could kill you, I would,

But it's frowned upon in all fifty states.

Having said that, burn in hell, yeah.

Oh, oh, oh.

So tell me how you're sleeping easy,

How you're only thinking of yourself.

Show me how you justify,

Telling all your lies like second nature.

Listen, mark my words, one day (one day),

You will pay, you will pay.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

#spencer reid #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[habeascorpseus]

im curious, what do you consider ooc for grian? i agree w you completely but i would like to know 👁👁

ohoho *takes a BIG sip of my 5 hour energy and slams it on my bedside stool*

okay, so i HOPE this doesnt become a big old rant, because i really should sleep, but, the thing people misunderstand about him MOST, which therefore sort of branches into most other mischaracterizations i see with his character, is that he's not an asshole.

he's also not not an asshole.

here's what i mean: grian's moral compass is looser than a door without hinges, but his honor, and the honor of others, holds priority. in season 8 during the boatem prank war with big eyes, he aptly called his policy, "prank hard, clean up harder."

for the more innocuous offenses he commits, like pranks, and minor amounts murder, he will almost always feel bad and offer to help clean up if he feels like what he did is "too much." "too much" is dependent on circumstance, but most often it includes permanent loss of valubles- like armor, large amounts of resources, and hard to obtain items- which he will attempt to replace or make up for with helping the unfortunate recipient of his ill-fated prank with chores. "too much" also includes griefing and base editing whether it be accidental or on purpose- most notable examples being in season 7 when keralis discovered the "removing stuff from keralis' base" challenge, and rebuilding part of scar's base in season 8 after accidentally getting it blown up. if he feels like it's even partially his fault, he'll almost always offer to help fix the mess, even if he does complain about it the entire way though.

so he likes to fuck with people- he doesnt like permanent damage. that doesnt mean he doesnt occasionally want to cause permanent damage, such as in the life series, but he also often needs a reason to cause damage like losing lives or permadeath.

renchanting trap? scar wasn't doing his job properly as the only red life. tnt base trap? home no longer safe, revenge for pizza. killing jimmy and mumbo in last life? they provoked him and were reaping the consequences. killing bigb and ren in double life? they provoked him by (to his knowledge) being the cause of scar's death as a yellow life. no matter what death grian has personally called in the life series, either before or after it took place, you can find an instance of grian saying why he felt he needed to do it. and if the death is accidental, or accidental collateral damage, he tries to make up for it with his time and energy. (like with the physical objects.)

i see a lot of fics on ao3 with the tag "grian is an asshole in this one, sorry", and i dont normally read those, because those just leave a bad taste in my mouth- but i also see a lot of fics unintentionally write grian as more of a jerk because they forget he abides by honor. its not that grian isnt a murderer, its that he needs a reason to do it- or he'll excuse it after the fact with a reason. its not that grian isnt reckless with other people's lives, its that if he realizes the damage he causes is permanent he balks at doing it. its not that grian isnt an asshole, its that he likes to piss off people but wouldn't dream of purposefully damaging his friendships. grian, as a character, is defined by his willingness to push boundaries and his hesitance to cross the line. and far too often, people forget these two coexisting facts, and write grian as only being one or the other.

again, this is all mostly opinion and writing advice, and ive read fics where grian was ooc that i still enjoyed. but also sometimes you just look at a fandom and you're like "wow youre so valid but youre also wrong!" and occasionally i do be feeling that. in the end what matters is that the fic was fun to write, and the rant resulting from that is also fun to write. goodnight all,

#asked and answered #habeas speaks #spacemanxephos #not character tagging this #writing crit #i guess? #anyway

[kamaluhkhan]

maybe it's my fault

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: lately, you've been feeling a ton of pressure, you're way too busy, and you're barely sleeping. life is taking its toll on you, but you drop everything to be with shuri when she needs you most.

warnings: angst! mention of illness and death (t'challa's, mostly). reader has a bit of a saviour complex. lots of plot w/ a little smut ;)

author's note: hi hi it's been too long since i've written a fic, but i just rewatched black panther so i decided to finish one of my drafts. this could be read as a part 3 to my other shuri fics, but it's wayyy more angsty than i usually write. also happy endings.....we don't know her! you've been warned.

you were in the kitchen, chopping up fruit for a smoothie, while sam and bucky were watching the news in the living room. you could only hear muffled sounds from the tv thanks to the lecture you were rewatching through your earphones, hyperfocused on absorbing as much information about genetic coding — the topic of your last exam before spring break — so it was easy to miss sam calling your name until he was practically shouting. you finally removed one earbud.

"yeah?"

“when's the last time you heard from your girlfriend?" 

"i don't know," you answered, still mostly focused on your professor droning on about complex protein structures while you kept cutting up strawberries — and tried to keep your eyes open. you probably hadn't slept in 36 hours. "we've both been busy. why?"

there was no immediate answer, which you didn’t think much of until you looked up and saw what they were watching. in shock, you accidently let the knife slip, and it nicked your thumb instead of the fruit.

"fuck."

blood dripped from your hand, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen.

KING T’CHALLA, RULER OF WAKANDA, DEAD FROM UNKNOWN ILLNESS. COUNTRY IN PERIOD OF MOURNING. 

you could tell from the way bucky and sam were silent that they were also overwhelmed with the news. t’challa was an avenger, a teammate — but he was also a friend. he was compassionate and wise and always made you feel welcomed, even when some of the elders disapproved of shuri dating an outsider. this hurt you, deeply, especially after losing so much of the team in the battle with thanos. but none of that mattered — all you could think about now was shuri….

you instantly pulled out your phone, and tried to call her. 

it’s shuri. i’m probably designing better technology, so i’ll call you back with that. 

you then tried the kimoyo beads on your wrist, but still no answer. 

“i have to go.”

sam nodded. “just let me look after your hand first —”

“i’ll deal with it on the quinjet.” you ran to your room down the hall, and grabbed your overnight bag (thank Gods you hadn’t unpacked yet, even though you’d decided to stay over at Avengers tower this week). “i just finished fixing up the old one, so i’ll take that and you guys can still use the new one for your mission tomorrow. if i leave now, i’ll get to wakanda by morning.” or maybe midnight. or afternoon? there was also a time difference that you couldn’t quite remember. “i’ll call peter on the way, let him know what happened. can you tell the others?” whoever is left, you thought to yourself.

again, sam nodded. bucky mumbled a simple take care as you start to leave for the quinjet.

sam called your name, so you turned around before a few tears could escape. he brought you into a hug. you couldn’t help but stiffen, a reflex because of so many i’m sorry for your loss hugs you’d gotten used to. when sam pulled away, he put his hand on her shoulder, eyes sincere but sad. “it’s gonna be alright, kid.”

you really wanted to believe him.

shuri’s lab was all too familiar to you. there was something perpetually alive about the space: always people talking, inventions being brought to life, loud music blasting. 

but, right now, it was silent. only shuri was there, designing something on the holograms and taking notes. 

you hear her A.I. griot announce that someone had arrived, but shuri doesn't seem to care.

“i told you i did not want to be disturbed,” shuri grumbled.

“he made an exception,” you replied, trying to keep your tone playful.

shuri didn’t say anything and kept working. “did my mother call you?” she finally asked. “i told her not to.”

you moved closer to shuri’s workspace until you were right next to her, leaning backwards against the desk but keeping your eyes on shuri and trying to pull her attention away from whatever she was working on — a suit, you guessed.

“she didn't call me. i came as soon as i heard,” you answered, crossing you arms. “but i did talk to her and she seemed…worried.”

“there’s no need to be,” shuri said. “i’m fine. we had the funeral — it happened, it’s over.”

you uncrossed your arms, sighing deeply. “you know, your brother once told me that in wakandan culture, death isn’t the end. it’s a stepping off point. then, he told me that he believed, even if they’re gone from the physical world, the people we love never leave us. their lives aren’t over if we honor them, keep loving them.”

t'challa's thoughtfulness helped you after losing tony and steve, and it was something you wished you had heard earlier in life. something that gave you hope, made you feel a bit lighter when it felt like the weight of the world was crushing you.

but, hearing this prompted shuri to freeze momentarily, though she couldn’t bring herself to look you in the eye.

"i am not my brother.” she went back to working after that.

for a moment, you simply watched your girlfriend work. shuri’s hair was different — braids gone and shorter than the last time you had seen her. her jawline was also sharper and her eyes a bit more sunken, like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

when it became clear that shuri wasn’t going to stop, you turned around and focused your attention to the holograms she was juggling. it wasn’t a panther suit, but what looked like a deconstructed dora milaje armor that shuri was redesigning.

“you want this to fly?” you noted the thrusters placed on the feet of the suit.

shuri glanced at you briefly before enlarging the section in question. “yes.”

you hummed, reaching over to zoom out to a full view of the suit. “if you add small repulsors, the wearer will have more control over how and where they fly.”

 “i was going to add something like that to the back.”

“i’d suggest the shoulders,” you said, tilting your head. “small, triangle shaped — kind of like angel wings. also, if you add reinforced plating to the shoulders and arms, you can redistribute the extra vibranium through the repulsor energy so the wearer can materialize a blade or a laser.”

“brilliant,” shuri mumbled under her breath.

you nudged shuri with your shoulder. “you would have figured it out eventually.”

“i know.” shuri leaned into you, a sign that she was softening. “that’s why it’s brilliant. i wish it'd thought of it sooner." she whispered the last part. there was a faraway sadness to her tone that made your heart ache.

you turned to face shuri, and gently put your hand on her cheek so she met your gaze.

"i think it's a sign that your beautiful brain needs some rest, baby." you knew what shuri was like, and based on your conversation with queen ramonda, shuri had locked herself in the lab for days.

shuri sighed, moving to kiss your palm before realizing the state it was in — freshly wrapped in a thin layer of gauze that you had bled through.

“what happened to your hand?” she questioned urgently.

“oh. nothing serious. just a slip of the knife.”

wordlessly, shuri brought you over to the medical bay and gestured for you to sit down on the table. you did, and shuri settled between your legs, using vibranium to heal your cut.

"shuri," you called after a few moments of silence, leaning your head down slightly to try and catch her eye. "you know i'm here for you, right?"

"i know." she finished cleaning the wound and wrapped your hand in a fresh vibranium-woven bandage. you wanted so badly to do the same — to wrap up shuri's grief, to protect her from pain, to help her heal.

"i mean that you don't have to, i don't know, act like everything is fine. we can talk about what happened — we can talk about t'challa."

"i know," she repeated, eyes finally meeting yours as she rested her hand on your knee. "i just....i can't. it's either i shut myself in the lab for hours or i think about my brother and want to burn the world down. and i can't...." shuri choked back a sob and her grip on your knee tightened.

you brought your hand up to her cheek, gently tracing the dark circles under her eyes with your thumb.

"well, what if we try another option?"

you spent the next few days in wakanda with shuri, ignoring your responsibilities in new york. most of the time was spent lazing around the royal palace, but with you shuri at least got enough sleep and food, even if you barely left her room at first. eventually, the two of you actually ate in the formal dining room. you could have sworn queen ramonda teared up when her daughter showed up again to share a meal since t'challa's passing. queen ramonda gave you a warm smile before the feast was served.

as you were walking back to shuri's room, stomachs full from a delicious dinner, your phone vibrated. you checked to see who it was: peter, texting to remind you of a lab assignment you had slipped your mind.

"oh shit," you groaned.

"what is it?"

"an assignment for my genetics class that i completely forgot about," you explained, rushing to open your laptop, which you'd left on shuri's nightstand after the two of you binged a few episodes of star trek (the original series). "one of our lab partners fucked up the results, so pete and i had to sort things out, but we've both been so busy...."

your phone vibrated once more, this time displaying an incoming call from jimmy neutron, your affectionate contact name for peter parker.

"i should take this."

shuri nodded. "let me help, yeah?"

considering how brilliant shuri was, you offered her your laptop without question. you paced back and forth, talking with peter over whether or not failing this assignment would mean you both failed the class, until shuri's voice cut through your conversation.

"why do you have a file with my brother's dna?"

you know exactly the file she was talking about, and it made you stop in your tracks to face shuri. you thought you were being too careful when you didn't attach his name to the file — but, apparently, you weren't careful enough.

shuri was sitting upright on the bed now, practically glaring at you as she waited for your answer. you tried to ignore your increasing heart-rate.

"pete, i have to go." you could hear him start to protest on the other end of the line, but you quickly ended the call. "well, we keep blood samples from every team member in case something happens."

hopefully your answer satisfied shuri.

it didn't.

"this isn't with your avengers files, though," shuri pointed out. you tried to grab the laptop back from her, but she moved it out of your reach. "and even if it was, you would have noticed something wrong."

"shuri," you warned, finding it harder to not let your voice waver.

"did you know my brother was sick?" her tone was harsher than before.

"shuri —"

"the samples show abnormal cell growth at an earlier stage than when i was working on a cure for him," shuri noted, turning the laptop screen towards you. like you, she must have spent hours looking at t'challa's dna to the point of memorizing its sequence. "so either you didn't notice that something was wrong, and we both know you're too smart enough to miss something that obvious, or — "

"shuri." this time, when you said her name, it was less of a warning and more of a plea. you did not want to go down this road. frankly, you were hoping you never had to.

"you knew my brother was sick and didn't tell me," she finished. shuri handed you the laptop and you closed it slowly, watching as she walked to the other side of the room before facing you again. "tell me that isn't true."

all you could do was bite back tears and hope the floor swallowed you whole. when it didn't, you took a deep breath and stood up.

"i can explain." you approached her, but she took a step away from you and scoffed.

"what's there to explain?"

"just....please." you walked back to the bed and took a seat. "let me explain."

t'challa intercepted you at your favourite coffee shop about four weeks ago.

it was march in new york, so hints of spring were starting to peak through the winter snow. you had back to back classes, but you always had time for a coffee in between.

the cold air hit you as you exited the shop, a drink warming your hand. you noticed him standing there: no dora milaje, no fancy suit, just t'challa. he wore sunglasses and a sleek black trench coat with a purple scarf, his silver necklace peaking out from the collar.

"t'challa?" you called, almost doing a double take. the two of you were friends, sure, and probably future in-laws, but the image of him waiting for you outside a student-run cafe felt too out of the ordinary. "is everything okay?"

he smiled softly, taking off his sunglasses. "of course," he said. then, t'challa did something that surprised you even more: he greeted you with a hug. as he pulled away, he added: "just in town and thought we could catch up. shuri said this was your favourite place for cinnamon lattes."

you shrugged. "my girl knows me well. could we catch up later, though? i have a class in...." you glanced at your phone. "right now, actually." you looked back up at t'challa, and something about how his smile faded away made you feel like this was more important. "you know what, i can get notes later. come on."

t'challa followed you to a bench nearby, scanning the area as you made the short walk. the two of you sat in silence for a few moments before you broke it.

"so, is everything okay?" you asked again, taking a sip of your drink.

"actually, no." he paused, voice low. you waited for him to continue, your heart beating fast as you tried not to expect the worst. "i'm sick, y/n."

"you're sick," you repeated slowly, letting the words sink in. "i'm....i'm sorry." you reached over and squeezed t'challa's hand. he gave you a sad smile in return. that was the thing about t'challa: he was always trying to put on a brave face.

"i need you to help me find a cure."

"of course," you answered instantly. you loved t'challa like he was family; you would do anything for him. but, something felt a bit strange about his request. "why not go to wakanda, though? i mean, i'd be happy to help, but the technology there is way more advanced than anything i could do in new york. shuri's lab has all the resources we would need."

t'challa shifted in his seat, breaking eye contact.

then, it hit you. the impromptu meeting, the uneasiness of t'challa's demeanor, the whispers as he explained the situation.

"she doesn't know, does she?"

t'challa shook his head. "she doesn't even know i'm in new york."

suddenly, you throat tightened and it felt difficult to swallow your coffee.

"am i the only one that knows?"

"you and nakia," he said. "i'd like for it to stay that way."

"but — but it's shuri. you're her brother and — and she can help us find a cure."

"so can you," t'challa countered. compared to your nervous stuttering, he kept his voice clear, measured. "you're studying biochemistry and cellular biology, correct? top of your class? my sister says you are almost as brilliant as her."

"almost," you laughed, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve before returning to your conversation. "t'challa, why not just tell her?"

t'challa reflected before responding, his eyes following a couple holding hand as they walked past you.

"my sister is happy," he finally said, turning to you. "i wish for her to stay like that for as long as possible. i believe this is the only way."

it broke your heart to know that, even as he was suffering, t'challa would do anything to protect shuri. you both knew what shuri was like: she would drop everything, go back to wakanda, spend many sleepless nights trying to solve this problem, to save her brother.

"are you sure?" you practically whispered the question.

"yes. i trust you can take care of this. in fact, i know you can. please, y/n."

his urgent tone, the sincerity in his eyes; t'challa was desperate, you could tell. this wasn't a decision he made lightly, to keep such information from everyone, including shuri. if you were the one he came to for help, help you would.

so, you promised keep his secret, to handle it yourself and carry on as normal. t'challa would return to his normal duties as king for as long as he could hide his illness. but, you set a term as well: if you couldn't find a cure within two weeks, when shuri went back to visit wakanda at the end of the month, t'challa would tell her and let her work to find a cure.

"one more thing," t'challa said after you had discussed your agreement. you were about to part ways, but you turned around when you heard him speak again. "shuri can never know that i came to you first. she's proud, my sister. if she finds out, she'd never forgive either of us."

you nodded firmly, but as t'challa turned to walk away, you called his name once more. you ran towards him and hugged him, tight. it startled him at first, just as you were when he greeted you, but he hugged back.

if you knew that was the last time you'd see him, you'd have held on longer.

over the next week or so, you worked relentlessly. you would've worked at the lab in avengers tower, but you knew you had more privacy at oscorp. occasionally, you went to class or had avengers business to take care of, but otherwise this was your life: rearranging dna sequences, examining blood samples, and mixing chemicals to try and find a cure for t'challa.

you came home one night, after hours in the lab. your only break was a brief stint stopping doc ock from robbing a bank. she'd managed to throw you around pretty hard — sleep deprivation made you an easier target, apparently — leaving you with a nasty bruise on your side. peter arrived to the scene just in time, and suggested the two of you celebrate with sandwiches as delmar's (where spider-man got a discount), but you made up an excuse so that you could return to the lab.

the apartment was dark when you entered, with only the kitchen light on, so you figured you were the only one home. you dragged yourself over to the sink to get a cup of water. you drank it in three gulps, and were reaching for another when you felt someone grab your side.

"fuck!" the cup fell from your grasp as you winced in pain. you turned around, too tired to even wonder if there was an intruder in your home, but met shuri's gaze instead. she was wearing boxer shorts and an oversized i ♡ wakanda shirt she'd gotten for you as a joke.

"shit. sorry." she knelt down to pick up the broken glass. you tried to follow, but winced again at the sharp pain in your side that prevented you from bending over. "don't worry. i've got it," she reassured, standing back up. "you've been busy lately. and pete told me about the fight with doc ock. you should rest."

you ignored her last comment. "i thought you were coming home late tonight."

shuri raised an eyebrow. "i'd say it's well past late." she gestured towards the clock on the stove. it read 2:27 am.

"right." between hours in the lab, with no cure in sight, and being thrown around by a scientist with metal tentacles, you were exhausted. it was the kind of exhaustion that settled into your bones, made everything feel heavier. not to mention the weight of the very big, life changing secret you were keeping from shuri....yeah, you weren't particularly in the mood to chat with your girlfriend in a dimly lit kitchen with broken glass at your feet.

before shuri could ask more about your day, you excused yourself to take a shower. you closed the bathroom door behind you, stripped yourself of your clothes, and hopped in the shower. you stood there for a few seconds, letting the warm water wash over you, until you were startled by the shower curtain opening.

"sithandwa, are you okay?"

"other than the minor heart attack you just gave me, yeah," you huffed.

shuri tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "are you sure?"

"i'm fine," you snapped. noticing how shuri's eyes widened slightly at your outburst, you tried again, your voice softer. "i'm fine."

you lifted your arm to close the shower curtain, but let out a strangled moan when the sharp pain in your side returned. shuri furrowed her brow at your reaction, until her eyes landed on the dark bruise forming under your left ribs. instantly, shuri joined you in the shower, fully clothed.

"you're not fine," shuri decided, placing her hand gently on your skin. "why didn't you go back to the med bay to have this taken care of?"

peter asked you the same thing when you parted ways earlier, but it was easier then to shrug off the severity of your injury. besides, you had to finish up some work at the lab. but here you were in front of shuri, completely exposed, no where to run.

"i...didn't have time. you can scold me later, okay? right now, i just want to relax."

you exhaled as shuri's fingers grazed your skin. with how preoccupied you had been — along with the guilt at hiding t'challa's illness from her — you and shuri hadn't been intimate in what felt like forever. it felt good to be close to her, for her to touch you again.

by then, shuri's clothes were soaked through, the white fabric of her shirt clinging to her skin, transparent enough to reveal her dark nipples underneath. you couldn't help but stare.

"like what you see?" shuri smirked. her fingers started trailing south, reaching your hips.

this made you roll your eyes, and you just had to smile at how cheeky your girlfriend was being.

"you know i do, pretty girl."

"hm. you said you wanted to relax?"

you nodded, and not even a second later shuri had her body pressed against yours. it sent a shiver through you, despite the warm water from the shower. she brought a tattoed hand up to your face, craddling your jaw.

"then relax," shuri whispered. she started placing kisses up your neck, and when she reached just below your ear, she added: "let me take care of you."

shuri gently pushed you against the wall, the ceramic tiles cool on your back. to your annoyance, she took her sweet time leaving kisses down your body.

"shuri," you whined when you felt her teeth graze one nipple while she pinched the other between her fingers.

"what is it, my love?" shuri pulled away from your chest. you knew she loved teasing you - something you mostly loved to hate. sex with shuri sometimes took hours: it was slow, deliberate, accompanied by an orchestra of laughter and moans and pleading (lots of pleading).

this time, though, she didn't even give you time to beg. shuri simply got on her knees in front of you. she briefly ran her tongue through your folds before tilting her head back to meet your gaze. "is this what you wanted?" shuri smirked when you moaned as she slid a finger into your cunt.

the shower went cold by the time you two were done.

you started drying off, carefully as to not further your injury. shuri left to put on fresh, dry clothes, leaving the ones she had soaked through in a wet heap on the floor. you were just slipping on your underwear when shuri returned, catching your eye in the mirror.

"what?" you chuckled at how coy she was being, hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"i have a surprise for you," shuri sang. she moved from the doorway to standing behind you, the two of you looking at the mirror. "close your eyes." you complied and felt a coolness surround your neck. shuri placed a kiss on your jaw, which made you smile. "open them."

you were met with the sight of yourself, top half completely bare except for a deep purple pendant around your neck.

"do you like it?" shuri gently wrapped her arms around your waist, eyes never leaving your body in the mirror, and you allowed yourself to melt into her. "it reminded me of the sky on our first date, and how beautiful you looked." she reached a hand up to trace the silver chain. "i was thinking i'd remake this with vibranium, maybe make it so the necklace holds your suit like t'challa's. you'll have to wait until i get back to wakanda to make the upgrade, of course."

at the mention of her brother and her home country, you stiffened.

"shuri." you exhaled and you turned to face her. "are you sure that you don't want to go back to wakanda sooner?"

shuri tilted her head. "why would i do that?"

"i don't know. more time with your family...."

"i've spent my whole life with them," shuri countered. "i'm moving to new york so that we can start our life together."

"i didn't ask you to do that — "

"don't push me away, okay?" she interrupted, wrapping her arms around your waist once more as though they would keep you in place forever. "you've been doing that lately, and i know you're busy, we both are. but, life is crazy and scary and unpredictable, and all i know for sure is that i love you. and i need you."

you wished you could return her words, as you have many times before, but the sentiment now felt empty.

it felt wrong for you to let shuri love you passionately, when you were being so careless with her heart.

you tried to shake away that feeling, telling yourself that keeping t'challa's secret was the best situation to keep him healthy and shuri happy - to protect both of them from any pain or suffering.

you told yourself that enough times, you almost believed it was true.

shuri looked at you now, and for the first time, you felt the heat of her anger targeted towards you.

"how long? how long did you know my brother was dying and let me believe everything was okay? how long did you lie to me?"

you took a ragged breath. "two weeks."

"two weeks?" shuri shouted. "i couldn't save him because i didn't have enough time to find a cure. you took that from me."

"i spent that time trying to find a cure, but....but i wanted to protect you, at least for a little while."

"no one asked you to protect me!"

internally, you kept replaying what t'challa had said: he wanted shuri to be happy, yes, but she could never know that he came to you himself and told you he was sick weeks before he told her. you wanted to honor the promise you made him, even as you now felt shuri slipping through your fingers.

you were never a quitter, though. it was your best — and possibly most self-destructive — trait. you tried to approach shuri, to grab her hand, but the second you made contact, she jolted away.

"my brother is dead because of you."

her words felt like a knife. you felt dizzy — there was no way to stop the bleeding, so you sat back down on the bed to ground yourself.

"i....i tried to save him," you defended. "after i first found out, i tried to find a cure myself."

shuri scoffed, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at you. "you just had to be the hero, didn't you? running around, wanting to save everyone. like you're the only one who can."

"i really tried," you choked. by now, you were holding back tears, feeling your head start to ache. you started massaging you temple to relieve some pressure, but it didn't work.

"and what kind of sick game are you playing, coming here pretending to be supportive? you're just feeling guilty."

guilty was definitely something you felt, but it wasn't why you came here.

you got back up and tried to approach shuri one more time, walking over to her slowly.

"i came here because i love you, shuri." your voice was softer than it had been before. "i loved t'challa, too -"

"don't you dare say his name," she growled, once again moving away from you briskly. "and i don't care if you love me, because i can never look at you the same way. we're done."

hands by your side, staring at shuri from the opposite side of the room, you almost couldn't process what she had said. she repeated her last sentence, this time a bit louder, and you shook your head as though to wake yourself up.

"shuri, please, don't do this. we're both in pain — "

"you have no idea the pain i'm in," shuri interrupted, and you noticed how she choked back a sob. "you can stop trying to be a hero for me. i don't want you. i don't need you." she paused. "not anymore."

to prove her point, shuri finally approached you. she tugged your necklace — the one she had so lovingly given you — hard enough for the clasp to break.

both of you were startled by the severity of her actions, how final it all felt. shuri looked, almost regretfully, at the purple pendant in her hand, but never met your gaze. she then turned away from you, the room settling into an uncomfortable silence as she waited for you to leave.

and you did, a few moments later.

#shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x you #shuri imagine #shuri angst #black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #shuri fic #shuri smut #princess shuri #shuri #Spotify #saf writes #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther #marvel fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #shuri fanfiction

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Hey Abby, happy Sunday! 🥰 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests right now but if you are I’d (please) love fem reader x rooster or hangman. Maybe after training doesn’t go so well she barges into the hard deck (in front of everyone) and demands one of them fuck her right this second 👀

Hi! Thank you so much for the request ❤️ I actually don’t write smut, but I hope you still enjoy this! My first time writing for Hangman :)

Remedy for a Bad Day

Hangman x fem!reader

Word count: ~1k

Warnings: Suggestiveness. 18+ minors dni

Your bad luck had started early that morning. 

Jake was always flirty with you, making suggestive comments that had your body on the right side of warm. You gave it right back, trying your best to get him to break — not that you were ever successful. Though you couldn’t complain too much, you did love that smirk of his and the fire burning behind his eyes.

But he’d taken it too far today. He wouldn’t stop giving his opinions on everything Maverick was saying. You just put your hand out, silently telling him that you were trying to focus. just made him resort to leaning over and whispering along the curve of your ear.

“Not my fault sweetheart. You’re far too beautiful to focus on anything else,” he said, that drawl of his rolling out thick.

And that got its intended reaction, making you turn to him with wide eyes. “Hangman!” You’d tried shushing him, but it came out louder than you meant — which was made all too clear by Maverick fixing his eyes on the two of you.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Just as you tried to apologize, Jake responded by leaning back and saying, “Nothing more important than your words of wisdom, sir.” The sarcasm dripping from his voice had you dropping your head into your hands.

The embarrassment alone made you think this couldn’t get worse, but you had to bite back a groan when you heard, “Well, I hope you both take bathroom duty more seriously, because you’re on it for the week.” 

You waited for Maverick to turn away so you could raise your middle finger to Hangman.

The bad mood followed you on your run during the break, the one you’d started without even acknowledging Hangman after that stunt he pulled. Sweat beaded across your skin, but you just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Your lungs were on fire, your heart beating out of your chest under the hot California sun. It helped rid your mind of the morning… until you felt a wet plop land on your shoulder. 

Your steps stuttered as you looked up, watching as a flock of seagulls flew past — their cawing sounded too much like laughter at you. Instead of returning to the locker room drenched in sweat, you came soaked in water after angrily washing yourself off at the nearest hose.

You’d then gone to training, already wanting the day to be done. But, of course, the universe wasn’t so kind. Maverick’s assignment was running the impossible course for this mission. You knew you were a good pilot, but every misstep meant death — making you slam your hands down on the console as you flew just a second too slow or took a corner too sharp.

Everyone went again and again, each one unsuccessful. Frustration built through your muscles with each failed run, pushing you to your limit. He eventually let the team go, saying they’d pick it up again tomorrow, but his words put a bitter taste in your mouth.

It fogged your brain, begging you to make a million bad choices. Normally, you might’ve tried to go on another run, but as you walked back to your room much later than everyone else, you could hear the distant sound of seagulls flying overhead.

Instead, you gritted your teeth, feeling a headache beginning to form behind your eyes. It continued to pulse as you showered alone, the rest of the team already gone out. But as the water already began to turn ice cold and set your body on edge, you needed to release the tension pooling in your core. 

And Hangman owed you a favor.

So you got dressed, broke most of the speed limits, and pushed open the doors to The Hard Deck. Through the chaos of the crowd and loud music, you still found the tall blond with ease.

“Hangman!” you shouted, staring him down. His head immediately shot up to look at you, and that was the first time you’d ever seen him taken aback.

“Come here,” you commanded, curling your finger toward yourself. The slight frown with his scrunched eyebrows was certainly cute, but you loved the smirk that followed your words.

It only took a second before he moved, his long legs sauntering over to you. “Yes, ma’am.” 

On any other day, you might’ve had second thoughts, but not today. Not when he looked at you like that.

You met him halfway, energy coursing through you and into your hands as you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. You pulled him close until your breaths were mixing, the intoxicating scent of him filling your mind. That alone was enough to get you addicted, but you needed more. And Hangman was happy to close the distance, his lips molding to yours.

His hand wrapped around your back, bringing your body flush to his. You felt the tip of his tongue against your mouth and savored the groan in the back of his throat when you let him in.

Distantly, you heard hollering and whistles, but you could barely hear over the blood rushing through your ears. You only pulled away to catch your breath, staring into his darkened eyes.

“Wanna get outta here?” you whispered against him.

His teasing smile made your cheeks heat up, your mind turning to mush as he repeated, “Yes, ma’am.”

Pulling him by the collar, you turned back and made your way out of The Hard Deck. Glancing back, you saw Hangman salute your team as they cheered him on. You shook your head, ready to forget about the day… or anything besides his name.

#hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin top gun #top gun maverick

[basilone]

Thanks for the reminder, I've had the prompt page open since yesterday in a tab. Can I prompt 06. — surface for either Brady and/or an OC of your choice, please?

Love that my little post from a bit ago reminded you that you wanted to send me something! 💙 I had to sit with this one a moment, as I'm still wrangling Brady in my brain, but landed on the following...

surface

He hears her before he sees her.

It’s rather a common occurrence on base these days. Can’t move five feet without hearing a woman’s raised voice carry over the din. Can’t set foot outside a hut without hearing their shouts or their laughter – in worst cases both at once – as if all of Thorpe Abbotts now belongs to them. The woman currently cursing up a storm in the belly of his plane is one of the worst offenders. Voice with the power of a foghorn, voice that only seems to stop when she’s eating or sleeping, voice that has all but elbowed its way into his subconsciousness already.

John Brady heaves a sigh. Takes another sip of his coffee while he leans against the one part of the space that hasn’t been subjected to her rather impressive array of tools. She treats this plane like she owns it, having draped her jacket over the other gun, using her previously pristine white scarf as an extra cloth to wipe the grime off her hands with before unceremoniously flinging it to the floor. He eyes the dirtied scarf a moment. Refocuses on her only when she lets out a rather large snort.

“You on your coffee break, Brady, or are you thinking ’bout helping?”

“Helping with what?”

She wipes at her forehead. Leaves it with streaks of black. “Damn gun keeps jamming on reload. Max complained about it after our last run. She kept having to slam down on it with her fist.” Her dark eyes narrow as she peers at the gun’s slide. “Son of a bitch is gonna cost me more work, think it needs to come apart before we’re wheels up again.”

“Just the one, not the other?” John nods at her jacket. Isn’t surprised when she nods back to indicate that only one of their guns is out for the count. “Sounds like a job for Morrison herself.”

“Max ain’t flying this one next time. Egan said she’s up with him, and Dee’s gonna be wheels up with Crank. Guess we’re getting one of their gunners in return?” She scoffs a moment. Rakes her short hair back best she can, which isn’t well at all. “Don’t you look at me like that, ain’t our fault brass keeps shuffling crews like a deck of cards!”

“Just wondering about the end game,” he says carefully, setting his empty cup down atop her toolbox. “They’ve been moving you around different crews since Trondheim. Filling gaps.”

“Softenin’ y’all up for more female replacements, more like,” she snipes. Her hands deftly pry a part of the gun away from the slide. “C’mere, hold this for me, easier with two”– and his hands are on the panel before he can think twice about following orders –“gonna get this baby up and running for you and me. I don’t wanna get mid-flight only for this to decide it don’t wanna play no more.”

John’s eyebrow raises. “Keeping me company, Perrault?”

Her laugh is throaty but loud. “Sweet baby Jesus, you and Darlene are just about the only ones gettin’ my name right around these parts. Egan keeps callin’ me Perry, for fuck’s sake, and all them rest calls me Push. Stupid nickname.” Her hand covers his a moment, directing him to the edge of the panel. He takes a shallow breath in through his mouth as she leans forward and fills the air with gasoline-and-grease smell. “But yeah, Jules said they were gonna shift me to your crew for the next run. Somethin’ about your engineer getting frostbite up in the turret?”

“Hole in his suit.”

“That’s shit,” she says conversationally, tugging at the gun between them until it clicks apart. “Can ya take me through this baby once we get this gun fixed? I like to know what I’m workin’ with. Know she had a belly landin’ not too long ago, yeah?” She hums as he kicks a wrench over to her. “Ken said she’s all right now, but I want a look at that landing gear before we go.”

“Landing gear should be okay. More worried about the plating around the second engine,” he confesses as he holds two parts of the gun while she’s loosening a third. “It felt like it wasn’t quite feathering the way it should.”

“What, on the surface? Or deeper?”

“Could be deeper. Think it’s surface.”

“You tell Ken that?” She grins at him, unapologetic, as he frowns at her. “Of course ya did. You’re a smart one, John Brady.”

“Perrault,” he says, feeling just a little unmoored about the totally sober way she just called him smart, “just don’t get frostbite up there.”

He flinches a little at her booming laugh. Bites his tongue when her oil-stained hand lands atop his. She pats it reassuringly, as if that’s answer enough in the universe she inhabits. No boundaries between pilot and engineer, or so Bucky would say. The man’s insane.

“Chin up,” she says, then, and her hand squeezes his fingers before letting go. “Your face went all sour lemon. Thinking about repairs?”

“Bucky and his big mouth, actually,” he says, before he can stop himself.

Perrault lets out a groan that practically reverberates off the walls. “Please, say no more.”

“You too?”

He decides he likes Perrault just plenty when she rolls her eyes and slams the wrench down on the gun’s chamber. “Lord, where do we start?”

#masters of the air #john brady #oc: push #mota oc #basilonefic

[goodnightmemes]

EVIL DEAD RISE (2023) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ You looked like you were gonna shit a brick out sideways. ❜

❛ It wouldn't have been a clean decapitation with these blades. You'd just scramble your face up real good. ❜

❛ I gave her Klonopin so she can sleep off whatever the fuck is wrong with her. ❜

❛ Who's the brainless meat puppet now? ❜

❛ We're watching all the Freddy movies in a row. Even the shitty ones. So, you, um, wanna come over and… ❜

❛ You look like mom. ❜

❛ You know, the downstairs buzzer is totally busted. I was able to walk in right off the street. ❜

❛ Ghosts aren't real. ❜

❛ I only believe what I can see. ❜

❛ Hey, be nice or you don't get a gift. ❜

❛ Why didn't you tell me? I would've jumped right on a plane to help you work through this. ❜

❛ I called you. Twice. ❜

❛ I don't blame you. I hate the sound of my voice too. ❜

❛ I screwed up again, like I always do. And I need you to help me figure it out. Again. ❜

❛ I think I peed my pants. ❜

❛ You never take the elevator after a quake. ❜

❛ Oh, honey. I love you guys so much more than pizza. ❜

❛ You think it might be worth something? ❜

❛ I don't think Mom wants cash from something you stole. ❜

❛ Weird shit like this gets locked away for a reason. Just leave it. ❜

❛ I don't like this. You need to put it back right now. ❜

❛ I would like to present what I believe to be one of the three fabled volumes of Naturum Demento, The Book of the Dead. ❜

❛ Destroy it! It's called The Book of the Dead for a reason! ❜

❛ Its pages contain ancient rituals and incantations, the recitation of which proclaim to allow contact with supernatural forces that exist beyond the thin veneer of our known world. ❜

❛ It's okay. It's just a blackout. ❜

❛ It was a perfect day and all I could think about was how much I wanted to cut you all open and climb inside your bodies so that we could stay one happy family. ❜

❛ It's in me. ❜

❛ Don't let it take my babies. ❜

❛ One minute she was fine and the next she was talking crazy and...and now she's gone. ❜

❛ May I pray? ❜

❛ There's an old fire-escape ladder on the north side of the building. I could try to get down that, raise the alarm, get some help in here.❜

❛ You got the tools? We could just cut right through the door. ❜

❛ You ain't gettin' through those old doors without something heavy-duty. ❜

❛ I'm gonna get my gun, and we're gonna blast it open. ❜

❛ I don't like being trapped. ❜

❛ Everyone is on edge enough without a gun getting fired in here. ❜

❛ I don't know what to do. You're the one who always has the answers. ❜

❛ No matter how busy you ever got, you always found time for me. For everyone. ❜

❛ You have to help me. You have to. I'm burning. I'm burning alive! ❜

❛ Mommy's with the maggots now. ❜

❛ What's happening to me? ❜

❛ I'm free now. Free from all you titty-sucking parasites. ❜

❛ Let me kiss it better. ❜

❛ Who wants to rot next? ❜

❛ Get away from the door. ❜

❛ Please, we need help! Let me in! ❜

❛ You never should've stolen it. ❜

❛ This isn't my fault. ❜

❛This is your fault! ❜

❛ You don't turn on each other. Ever. ❜

❛ [name]'s right. This is all my fault. ❜

❛ Oh, there you are. Hey there, cutie-pie. ❜

❛ Open up and let us in. We can be a big, happy family again. ❜

❛ You don't look so good. ❜

❛ Nothing a big old hug and kiss from you won't fix. ❜

❛ Open the door like you open your legs, you stinking groupie slut! ❜

❛ What are you looking at, hon? ❜

❛ I gotta kill the creepy-crawlies that I got inside my tummy. ❜

❛ Is this a nightmare? ❜

❛ Is what happened to [name] gonna happen to us? ❜

❛ You'd be a good mom/dad someday. You know how to lie to kids. ❜

❛ I thought I should tie her up. Just in case. ❜

❛ Yeah, well, maybe there's words on there that can help stop all of this. ❜

❛ My want to understand and commune with the other side could not have been more misguided. ❜

❛ This evil is not governed by the rules of man. No, it takes its pleasure in creating terror through total chaos. ❜

❛ [name]'s kitty hides up there sometimes. ❜

❛ Told you, you should've put the book back. ❜

❛ I can hear them outside the doors now, begging for me. It is only a matter of time before I am taken too. ❜

❛ Nothing can stop this demonic force. Even its final remnants will come after you. ❜

❛ You must run. All you can do is run! ❜

❛ This horror will not stop until innocence is destroyed. ❜

❛ I will swallow your soul. ❜

❛ [name] waits in hell for you and your unborn bastard baby. ❜

❛ Are you gonna be a mom? ❜

❛ I'm getting us out of here. ❜

❛ You have no idea what it's like to bring a child into this world. ❜

❛ Everybody here dies by dawn. Dead by dawn! ❜

❛ Am I dead? ❜

❛ Come get some. ❜

❛ You know, you really do look like Mom. And you're gonna fail miserably just like her. ❜

#rp meme #sentence starter meme #sentence meme #rp sentence meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #horror rp meme #inbox memes #*mine #*movie

[hesperantha]

Sweeter

⨳Pairing: Jimin x reader (transmasc) ⨳Genre: slice of life, smut ⨳Words: 2.7k ⨳Rating: grownups only ⨳Warnings: dysphoria, some mention of medical details, established long distance relationship, communication is not their strong suit but they’re trying, they fuck. Mention of both natal and prosthetic dicks. ⨳Summary: Change and distance are hard on your relationship. Jimin helps ease your worries when you reconnect after both. ⨳AN: thanks to @wwilloww and @chemicalpink for beta reading the mxm version and thank you to @itsallabouthedetails​ for fixing this version. I started writing this as a reader-insert, had a doubt, and changed it to Yoonmin. Here’s the original version, finished in celebration of saying farewell to my own huge knockers.

“But they’re great. Fun. Soft.”

“I don’t care, Jimin,” you say, trying to keep the sulk out of your voice. “They’re horrible. They’re everywhere, all the time, and I wish they weren’t.”

Jimin scoffs through the phone.

“Imagine this,” you try again, scrambling for a good metaphor. “Your backpack. It’s handy, right? It serves a purpose. Now imagine you can never take it off. It’s just there all the time. None of your clothes fit the way they should because there’s a giant goddamn backpack under them. It’s heavy. The straps hurt your shoulders. It bounces and slaps against you when you run. When it’s hot out, your back gets sweaty from it.”

“That’s not the same at all,” insists Jimin, clearly missing the point. 

“But it kind of is. To me, anyway.”

“You didn’t used to think so,” argues Jimin.

“False. I didn’t used to think it was acceptable to think so. But fuck that.”

“Is this about the patriarchy again?” There’s a sharp edge in Jimin’s voice, and you’re relieved he has the decency to keep his sigh to himself.

“Newsflash: everything is about the goddamn patriarchy. And also not.”

“Look. I’m not trying to change your mind.” Jimin goes a bit serious, which you hate. “Just trying to understand. Trying to wrap my mind around it.”

“I hate to say it, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter what you wrap your mind around. They’re not yours to have an opinion on and if this is a dealbreaker—”

“Of course it’s not a dealbreaker! I love you, not your specific parts.”

“Good, because it’s a done deal.” You can’t bring yourself to ask the real question: does this mean we’re done?

“You don’t need to process, do you?” Jimin asks.

“No. I know you do, though.” 

Jimin exhales heavily through the phone.

You continue. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course. Always.” You know he means it. Time and time again Jimin has been there for you, emotionally if not physically, as the two of you held each other through the tempests.

You steel yourself to voice your need: “Process on your own time. Don’t ask me to do it with you. Not this time.”

“I can do that,” he promises before drawing a deep breath. “I wish I could be there. Someone needs to give you sponge baths and help change the dressings.”

“Me too. I mean—I’m honestly not worried about that stuff—I’m probably just going to be bored out of my skull. Crap. Sorry to shit on your hot nurse fantasy.”

It’s enough to pull a dry laugh out of him, so you continue, reeling it back in.

“Anyway, I have friends. And my dad’s coming for a week.”

“Not ideal,” Jimin notes. 

“No, not really,” you agree with a chuckle. “He’s just gonna talk about how it was his fault for signing me up for basketball when I was thirteen. Nevermind that my brother did ballet for all those years and is… the way he is.”

Jimin snorts. “A dudebro pussy magnet?”

“I love you. Thank you for not being a dudebro.”

When you meet him at the airport, Jimin is wearing a backpack, slouching under its weight. 

“I got you a watermelon,” he says, letting one of the straps slip off his shoulder and shrugging it down his arm to hand it off.

“I can’t,” you say, the words strange and unnatural on your tongue. “Not yet. Another week. I’ll wheel your suitcase, but you’re going to have to carry it for me. At least I got cleared to take a bath. Fucking finally.”

Jimin tugs the strap back up, rolls his shoulders, and stands taller. 

He hasn’t looked down yet. He hasn’t seen your shirt lying flat against your sternum, buttons in no danger of flying off. It’s Jimin’s shirt, one you used to wear open because you loved it and that was the only way it would fit. He used to call you cute when you wore it styled with a little knot at the bottom just above the waistband of your cut-off shorts. Then he called you a lumberjack when you tucked it into baggy carpenter jeans, hiding your body from yourself. You had snapped at him, then, unprepared to make a statement but unable to hold it back any longer.

“Good thing I like lumberjacks.”

That was all he’d said, but he’d quietly removed the high heels from your closet and replaced them with a pair of Air Jordans. He’d had a coffee mug with your new name mailed to you while he was in Nairobi.

Now he’s steps ahead, backpack full of watermelon hanging heavy from his shoulders while you walk behind, relieved that his flight landed on time but unsure of how things will land between the two of you.

In the garage, you wheel Jimin’s suitcase to his trunk and he slides in to lift it without saying a word, then goes to the driver’s side.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you get into the passenger side and buckle up. “How was the flight? Have you eaten already?”

Jimin is chewing his lip and looking ahead before he eventually says “You know, I thought you’d be different now.”

“How so?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it. I got used to you being you-shaped. And thought you’d be less you-shaped, but instead you’re more you-shaped and—oh god—I was not prepared for how hot you’d be. Not that you weren’t before. But now, now, it’s like looking into the sun.”

You adjust the seatbelt. The last time you rode passenger in your own car, the seatbelt was still wedged between your breasts, impossible to ignore. Now it’s an entirely different kind of distracting, lying gloriously flat across your shirt and the surgical binder underneath it. When you sneak a glance at Jimin, his smile is so broad you wonder how he’ll see the road.

You look out the passenger window, past the pillars of the garage as they go by, out over the city. When the car turns into the enclosed and darkened ramp and the outside goes black, you catch your reflection smiling back at you. 

At your apartment, Jimin unpacks. Neatly folded dirty clothes get tossed in the wash, a new book is added to the shelf, and then finally, finally, he dares to take you in his arms.

You lean against him, awkwardly turned to the side so your shoulder bumps against his chest. He’s being so gentle—uncharacteristically so—and you don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t what you want. You’re just weighing the pros and cons of playfully slapping his ass to end the hug when he takes a step back. 

“I think this is a good fit,” he announces, holding you at arm’s length. 

There’s a lump in your throat that you will away. You’d told yourself that it wouldn’t matter, that no one’s opinion mattered except your own, but now that Jimin is here with you, you find yourself wanting reassurance again that nothing has truly changed. 

The silence stretches on too long. Becomes awkward. 

“Watermelon?” you suggest. 

“Watermelon,” Jimin agrees, and you follow him to the kitchen and watch him butcher it, wedging the chef's knife in along the equator and splitting the melon into hemispheres. He stands each one upright, red flesh against the white cutting board, and splits them again, standing on his toes for the added power of an extra inch. You watch as the juices run out, red rivulets flooding the white field.

Jimin turns it, slices wedges, pares away the rind, exposing the soft, bright flesh inside. The knife slips easily now, dividing each part into cubes.

“Put the knife down,” you say, finding that soft, commanding tone that makes Jimin go a bit weak in the knees. He lays it to the side, blade facing away.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Are you ready, he means.

You pick up one of the cubes of melon, juices running down your fingers, and bring it to Jimin’s mouth.

“You try it first.”

He takes it from you, soft lips warm against your fingertips. There's a spot of juice at the corner of his mouth that threatens to spill over when he swallows. You wipe it away, then trace along his lower lip. His lips part softly, and you slip two fingers in.

His mouth is wet from the melon, and you know it would be delicious. Jimin closes his lips around the fingers in his mouth, drawing them in so they press against his tongue as his eyes flutter closed.

“God, I love you like this,” you say. Confirming. Just because it has to be said. “You’re so sweet. So pretty.”

Jimin drops to his knees on the kitchen floor, head bowed. Your fingers slip from his mouth, but linger—resting on his lower lip. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Jimin whispers. 

“Don’t bring ‘sorry’ into it now. You’re here. Right where I need you.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lip, grazing your fingertip. Electric. 

“Where you need me,” echoes Jimin. “You need me?”

“Of course I do.”

“But you said —”

“This. This is how I need you.” He’s so close you can feel Jimin’s breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh through your jeans.

“Open,” you tell him. Jimin obediently does, and you rest another cube of melon on his tongue, pink on pink, wet. “My sweet boy,“ you coo.

Jimin reaches to place a hand on your hip, catching the fabric of your shirt on his thumb so he can slide it up. “Nice shirt,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss the sliver of skin above your waistband. “Is this yours now?”

“I think we both know it’s always been mine.”

Jimin eases the shirt up further, exposing more of your belly. He kneels upright, nose brushing your navel. He feels you stiffen as his hand skims further up your side.

“Shhhh,” soothes Jimin. “It’s ok. I know it’s not—”

“It’s not that,” you counter. “It’s me. I’m not ready.”

Jimin redirects, kissing the tender place just above the button of your jeans. “Is this better?” he asks. 

You nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat again.

Jimin’s deft fingers unbutton your jeans, tugging them down. His tongue follows close behind, darting out to lick the soft fuzz on your belly. Waiting for a reaction, needing confirmation that this is right.

“Talk to me,” Jimin begs. “Say something. Please.”

“Never needed to say anything before,” you remind him. The edge of need in your voice belies the unaffected, gruff tone you try to take on. You look away, watching juice from the melon drip off the cutting board and pool on the countertop. “I missed your pretty mouth,” you say softly. 

“Keep going,” urges Jimin, tugging your boxers down over your hips and slowly exposing the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs. 

“Missed your pretty mouth and your pretty dick. Spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to do with both of them.”

“Yeah?”

You choke back a smirk. Jimin’s distracting you on purpose, making sure that you don’t spiral into that void of self-conscious, helpless darkness that sometimes overtakes you in these intimate moments. It’s working. “Wanna know what I did when I was thinking about your mouth?”

“Of course.” Jimin sinks lower on his knees, kissing his way slowly around to the inside of your thigh, silently guiding your legs apart.

“I got myself off about a hundred times thinking about it. Didn’t have much else to do, so I took my time. Edged myself until I couldn’t take it, then let myself come thinking about making you swallow my load.”

Jimin’s groan isn’t for show.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth now,” you tell him, steadying yourself with a hand on his shoulder. 

Jimin slicks his lips before parting them slightly, glancing up to make sure you’re watching. 

Your dick is much less than a mouthful, poking out hard and wet between your lips, flushed dark. Jimin loves to tease it, to take his time until you’re begging and whimpering, and you hope he knows this isn’t the time for teasing. 

The noise he makes as he slurps around it is obscene. One last glance upward and he begins to work his tongue in slow circles. He’ll know when—

“Suck it.”

—when to let you take charge, grabbing onto a fistful of his hair, ignoring the grit from another city, another time zone, pulling him in close until his nose is pressed hard against your pubic bone. You hold him there while he sucks hard, letting you rock against him as you chase your release. 

Jimin’s known for years that you’re usually quiet during sex, never one to talk unless he explicitly asks you to, and then rarely more than a handful of words. He’s learned to watch for other cues: the way you sway to keep your knees from buckling, the clench and release of your fingers, the way you breathe hard through your nose, teeth gritted to cut off any involuntary noises you might make. Now Jimin dares himself to pull a sound out of you, to coax a moan, a murmured obscenity, maybe even—if the stars align—a shout of pleasure, joyful and unrestrained. 

His hands grip the soft flesh of your ass as the hard floor bites at his knees. He feels himself drifting away, untethered and free as you use his mouth. Almost too lost in his own pleasure bubbling up, he knows that he needs to stay present, to be there for you the way he can, now, to show you that nothing has really changed.

Once again he looks up, watching you biting down hard on your lower lip, eyes unfocused and far away. Jimin realizes what a miracle it is to finally get this view—unobstructed, beautiful and sharp—he sucks loosely at your dick, tonguing the tip, bobbing his head and hoping you’ll look down and watch him.

You do, eventually, hazy eyes snapping into focus as the fingers in Jimin’s hair clench, pulling tight. 

Your voice comes out hoarse: “I love you. You know that, right? I’m always afraid to say it when you’re like this—don’t want you to think I just love it that you’re willing to suck me off—but you—really, you.” The words slip away as a drop of sweat rolls down your neck, rushing toward the collar of your shirt—Jimin’s shirt—the shared shirt. 

You’re thrusting into his face now, short strokes that smash Jimin’s nose relentlessly against hard bone and soft hair. Finally your body stiffens and stills, your pulsing dick pressed to his tongue as you let out a low groan of satisfaction and relief. 

Jimin sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth as you stagger backwards toward the counter, planting the heel of your hand in the pool of watermelon juice as you catch yourself. 

“Fuck,” you swear, encompassing the sticky hand, the orgasm, the sight of Jimin’s wild hair, and—most of all—the exhaustion that you aren’t quite able to put into words.

“We could do that too,” hints Jimin. 

“I’m old. Gimme a minute.” You pull your jeans back up, to Jimin’s complete dismay.

“Is Ultron charged?”

You look away, biting hard on the inside of your cheek to try to keep your laughter in. “You didn’t see me for weeks, missed the opportunity to nurse me through major surgery, and your first thought is to hop on my bionic dick?”

“Pretty much. Still love me?” Jimin bats his eyelashes ridiculously.

“Shit. I said that out loud, didn't I? Can we not make it a thing that I said it while you were—um…”

“I love you too. Want me to lick that off your hand?”

“No, but I wouldn’t turn down a bath. Just pretend not to look at me or something.”

In the deep, hot tub, you pull Jimin against you, curved spine against flat chest. Closer than you’ve ever been. 

tagging: @diverseinsertknet​

#jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #possumswrite #diverseinsertknet

[chaoscriess]

Hi there! I just found your fanfics and fell in love with your writing!! Could you do poly Stu x Billy x fem!reader with the prompts 1, 10, and 53? I get really bad nightmares and I would love some comfort from my two favorite characters.

STOP i just looked at your blog and i absolutely love it!!!! I have such a big thing for Halloween and I got so excited when I saw ur countdown ahhhhhfjdhsnsfuoej do I have a fix that's supposed to be released before this one? yeah but I just couldn't help it I love you.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒! 1. 10. 53.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! nightmares, mentions of being stabbed by ghostface in the nightmare, nothing else really, it's so fluffy

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended. this one is kinda weird, like its basically half HCs and half fic, very busy lately

ACTUALLY GOT SOMETHING DONE TODAY IM SO HAPPY

poly!stu x fem!reader x billy

you were at your friend stu's house, joined by your other friend billy. you'd had a crush on them both for a while, but you never acted on it because you couldn't decide which one you wanted more.

when billy and stu got together, you thought your life was over, and that you didnt have a chance with either of them

spoiler alert, you were wrong

anyways, you were on the couch, half asleep but trying to focus on the movie that was playing in front of you

it wasnt working

pretty soon, you were fast asleep

you were dreaming, but it definitely wasnt a good dream

you were being chased by ghostface and stabbed over and over again, and your face scrunched up in your sleep and you kept turning

stu saw this and elbowed billy softly, whispering, "what should we do? I think she's having a nightmare"

billy contemplated his options, his brows furrowed, and he came to a decision

he scooted closer to you before gently shaking you awake.

you sat up quickly with a scream, gasping for air

billy and stu quickly became concerned, both of them putting a hand on your shoulder or knee

"hey, hey, hey, its alright, I'm right here" billy spoke quietly and slowly, making his presence known to you. you were still breathing quickly, terrified, and you didnt notice either of the boys until then. you switched your eyes between the two, before pulling them both into a tight hug. you pulled away as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill. you looked down as they poured out, not wanting them to see you so vulnerable.

stu reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. he asked if you were okay, but you could barely hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and your loud, laboured breathing.

shit, were you having a panic attack? fuck, in front of the guys you were in love with, too. stu noticed your panicked state and pulled you into a hug with the side of your face pressed to his chest and you held eye contact with billy. you immediately took in stu's cologne and somehow it calmed you down a bit, but your breathing was still quick and ragged. "hear my heartbeat? just focus on that". you did as told, counting the beats you could hear. it helped quite a bit and after a few minutes, your breathing was back to normal.

billy took your hand in his and you looked up at stu, smiling at him. you let out a quiet 'thank you both, I'm sorry' and they looked at you like you were crazy. "y/n, you have nothing to be sorry about, none of that was your fault". you looked at billy as he spoke and then looked down, you felt like a burden. he tugged on your hand, pulling you away from stu and closer to him.

billy pressed his lips to yours for a second before pulling away. stu turned your head to face him, and he kissed you, longer than billy had, and he spoke once he pulled away. "shit, I've been waiting to do that for so long". you giggled at stu's words and looked down in embarrassment. billy chuckled at your shy behavior before speaking. "hey, you know what? we'd make a cute couple."

#chaos' army #chaos calling! #billy loomis fic #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher fic #poly ghostface #ghostface #poly stu and billy

[the1975attheirverybest]

Concept ! Imagine Matty and the reader are fighting and Matty (you know he can get real mean sometimes probably ) gets into that mode but the reader / girlfriend is suddenly meaner in a smart way like he doesn't know what to reply anymore then him hahah how do you think this would end up

Ooohhh… Yeah, I definitely think Matty’s smart mouth gets him in trouble in arguments. My dad’s kinda like that. Like he’s so smart and so blunt but sometimes THATS NOT WHATS NEEDED and he gotta learn when to shut the fuck up a bit, lmao.

I’m gonna just go off of something that Matty himself has admitted to. “I’m better at writing…”

So, like, maybe his gf is also a musician. Or maybe she’s a writer. Maybe she asked him for his feedback on something, but instead of telling her what works and what doesn’t, he starts taking issue with the very premise of the thing that she’s writing. “Well if that’s how your character felt, why didn’t she just- stop going out with this guy. It doesn’t make sense. The reader needs to feel invested. I feel no investment in this plot whatsoever.” He shrugs self-satisfied.

“I didn’t ask you about the plot, Matty. I asked you about the building that this scene takes place in.”

“Never got to that part. Got bored after the second paragraph cuz I wasn’t buying into it.”

She gets frustrated “thanks. That’s unhelpful.”

“I would say that’s extremely helpful! Saved you a conversation with your editors.”

“You did no such thing, Matty. Instead of meeting the story on its own terms, you completely re-wrote it. It’s not about why they continue to stay together! Sometimes things aren’t that simple you know.”

He’s staying cool in the face of her frustration which is her least favorite thing ever. It makes he feel like she’s overreacting even when she’s not.

“It’s okay to suck sometimes. I do it too on occasion. But you don’t have to act like that cuz you know my way is better than yours. Just cuz you’re a writer, doesn’t mean you shit gold. Not everything that you come up with is gonna work.”

He thinks he’s won the argument. He sits back in his chair, legs open wide, taking up the space proudly.

“Oh, I know. Sometimes I make mistakes. We all do! It’s part of the writing process. I just feel sorry for you cuz you live in such a narrow reality that you can’t stand the idea of someone doing things differently that you. Just because YOU would quit on a situation like that, doesn’t mean my character should. I’m writing her story, not yours. Art doesn’t always have to be slavishly adhering to your specific perception.”

He opens his mouth to reply, “oh yeah? If I’m so narrow minded, then-“ nothing comes to mind.

“I’m just gonna go work on this on my own. Thanks for nothing, my love.” She walks away and goes back to her desk. He’s just sitting there. His mouth STILL open. He blinks and tries to take in what she said.

Ends up pouting for hours. Stewing in his is. Rage. He can’t BELIEVE she called him narrow-minded. That’s the last thing that he wants to be. That’s why he works so hard at trying not to be judgmental and make sure he’s open to arguments. Then he realizes that he behaved in the exact opposite way towards her. He wasn’t open to ideas. He just pushed his reading on her from the get go, and when she got frustrated with him, he told her it was her fault for not being able to see things her way.

So he starts jotting down thoughts on paper. Goes over to her office, and is like “okay, I’m gonna read out loud from this thing so I don’t put my foot in my mouth again. I’ll stick to the script…” he apologizes, then he makes a calm case for what he thought needed fixing, why he thought that (respectfully), and what he liked. He’d begggg her to let him see her draft again and he’d be on his best behavior.

#matty concepts

[eternally-smitten]

Mini-Roman

summary: Roman goes away on a business trip for a while, so Natalie gives him a little gift to make him feel less alone

word count: ~1.4k

author’s note: I haven't written fluff in a little bit and I have been in dire need of some comfort so. Here's this! I probably wrote him a little ooc, but shhh it's my comfort fic i can do what i want!

“Well,” Roman waltzed into Natalie’s office, forgetting to say hello, “Today is my last day in paradise before I descend into Hell! Yay!”

“Uh, good morning to you too?” Natalie chuckled, briefly looking up from her laptop, “And come on, it’s not going to be that bad, is it?”

“Oh, no! I’m just being a brat!” He made himself comfortable on her floor, sitting right next to her desk, “I’m going to have so much fun trying to convince a bunch of old fucks that hate my dad to not hate my dad and let us buy them for hours on end. All while having this discussion over a self proclaimed ‘lovely dinner’ which consists of some lukewarm, soggy French dish I’ve never heard of!” He glared at her, annoyed that she would even suggest that this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

She rested her chin in her hand, “Alright, your sarcasm is not lost on me. My mistake for trying to cheer you up.”

“I’m glad you can admit your faults.” He peered up at her while picking at his nails, “It takes a pretty big person to do that.”

“You’re a prick. Maybe I won’t give you the gift I picked out for you. I hope they take returns-”

“Hey, hey!” Roman interrupted her, “No one told me anything about any gift. This changes everything.”

“Glad to know that your love is so easily bought.” Natalie reached under her desk and handed him a small paper bag decorated with blue tissue paper, “It’s not much, but I hoped that it would maybe help you feel a little better about this work trip, I don’t know.”

He pulled out the tissue paper until his present was revealed. Inside the bag was a large plush bear wearing a little suit and tie. He grabbed the soft toy and held it up, looking at it quizzically. A thousand responses ran through his mind, “Thank you so much”, “You picked this out for me?”, “This is so sweet, thank you, Natalie”, “You didn’t have to get me anything”, these sentences buzzed around in his brain, begging to be picked. What actually came out of his mouth was, “What the fuck is this?”

“A…teddy bear?” Natalie laughed, expecting that answer from her crude friend, “I don’t know. It reminded me of you.”

Roman turned the bear around so that they were both facing her, sneering at her as he did so, “This? Reminded you of me? Should I be flattered or appalled? Am I working with a secret serial killer or some shit?”

“You are so fucking dramatic.” She reached over and combed the bear’s fur with her fingers, “It just looked like you, I guess.”

“It does not!”

“Yes it does! If you fix its hair just right,” She smoothed over the fur on the toy’s head, trying to mimic Roman’s hairstyle, “See?”

“Well, I would never wear a red tie.” He turned it around to face him again, staring at it intensely, “That’s just fucking tacky. It’s offensive that you think I have such poor taste in clothes.”

“Well, you don’t have to keep it! I can keep mini-Roman all to myself if you hate him that much!” Natalie went to grab it, but Roman pulled it away.

“I didn’t say that!” He held it out of her reach, “I just…Shut up! I’m not letting this little guy be a victim to whatever secret furry shit you’re into.”

“You sure? You seem to not like it very much.” She giggled, trying to cover up her embarrassment, “I guess it is a little juvenile. Sorry.”

“What? No, stop. I love-” He shook his head, stopping himself from saying the “L” word, “I like it. I like him. Fuck you!” He stood up, still cradling the bear in his hands, “I guess I should do some, you know, actual work before I go. Prep myself for the worst. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” Natalie fixed her glasses and grinned at him, “You don’t have to pretend you like it to save my feelings. I’m not sensitive to honesty!”

“I’m not!” Roman held the plush up and made it wave goodbye to her, “Now, let’s say goodbye and pray that we’ll see each other again. Hopefully, you won’t see any stories on the news channel about how I went berserk and killed everyone on the plane.”

She laughed and waved back, “I’m praying for you. Bye, Roman.”

“Bye, Nat.” With that, he swiftly left to go back to his own office. His new friend nestled tightly in his crossed arms.

~

Roman sulked the entire time on the plane. He tried to do any mindless task he could to keep him occupied like scrolling on his phone, having a drink or two, he even tried to make conversation with his siblings, but nothing helped his sour mood. Then, an unexpected idea popped into his head. His eyes lit up and he reached for his bag, but not before seeing if his siblings noticed what he was up to. When he felt that the coast was clear, he searched in his bag for the bear Natalie got him. Despite his reaction, he actually did like it quite a bit. He just did not know how to express that properly. Roman set the plush in the seat next to him, having to prop it up a few times so it didn’t fall over. He set his half empty glass near it and quickly snapped a picture of it on his phone. He then stuffed it in his bag again so no one could see it and texted Natalie, a very small smile creeping up on his once soured face.

Back at Waystar Royco, Nataie’s phone pinged while she was in the middle of typing. The sudden noise startled her a little, but she sighed contently seeing that she got a message from Roman. She was surprised to see a picture of the stuffed bear she bought him, sitting in the seat next to him with a drink. Roman sent a second text that read, “This is the only fucker on the plane I can actually stand. He doesn’t talk much, but that’s okay.”

She couldn’t help but beam at the text, feeling relieved that he seemed to like it. She didn’t take too long to respond back, “Cute! I told you that he looks just like you!”

“Maybe that’s why he’s the only one I can tolerate. Makes total sense.” Roman texted back, pausing for a bit before sending a second text, “Well, besides you. We both have a shared appreciation for you.”

“You’re too sweet, thank you Mini-Roman!” She had to turn her attention back to her work after that text, but that small interaction made her day brighter. Whenever she had a chance to check her phone, there was always a new text from Roman with updates about the bear. He took an awkward looking selfie with it on the plane, claiming that the toy was a drunk with how much it wanted to drink. Once he arrived at his destination, he sent her another picture of the bear looking out the window, explaining how much he liked the view. He did this the entirety of the trip, providing Natalie with little updates about himself and the toy she got him. What he didn’t tell her was that he set it up next to his bed and that he looked at it whenever he was feeling a little lonely. He also didn’t tell her that it smelled faintly like her perfume, which was strangely comforting. Or that he squeezed its hand slightly whenever he came back to his room after a particularly long and annoying day. She had no clue just how much this plush companion helped him on this dreaded trip.

~

Natalie cursed herself for being late as she rushed to her office, her phone dying the night before so her alarm never went off. She prayed no one noticed, but she especially hoped that she didn’t miss Roman since he was supposed to come back today. She opened the door to her office, releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The entire building was quiet and still, so it didn’t appear that anyone was aware that she was late. Natalie set her stuff down next to her desk and went to take a seat, but there was something in her chair. It was a little stuffed bear with gold wire glasses and a little dress. On the desk, there was a small note that read, “Hopefully Mini-Natalie is a better employee than the actual Natalie. This one was on time and is working diligently in her place. When the real Natalie comes back to give her a break, give me an update. - Roman”.

tag list: @frozenhi-chews @bobmckenzie @hollandmarchsdork @gideongrovel @fates-theysband @lameassboyfriend @cherrypieships @londonlovemailbox @wisp-herr @pinkdinkydoon @nonesenseships let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#my stuff ♡ #⸝⸝⊂➜ corporate flirt ⊃⸝⸝ #ok to rb! #self ship fanfiction

[the-feral-gremlin]

15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 23, 24, 25 from the fixed ask game for john diggle (arrow)

i know its a lot im sorry T.T

Hii anon! Sorry it took so long for me to answer. And it’s totally okay I love answering asks!!

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Dyla (dig and Lyla.) they couldn’t love each other outside the battlefield so they separated, they

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

I don’t really have one?? I’m a multishipper so it’s kind of hard to choose which one is my least favorite. Though I think that they shouldn’t have rushed to get Diggle together with Lyla so soon. Not like “give Diggle more love interests/pairings” (though I wouldn’t have been mad if we got that) but just let him be single WITHOUT a crush or anything if that makes sense.

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

Read above ^^

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Oliver and Diggle. I could talk about their friendship and stuff for HOURS. How they really do make each other better. I think a lot of people see they’re friendship as “Diggle helped better Oliver and kickstarted him down the green arrow path” or like, Diggle as a stepping stone for Oliver when in actuality they were stepping stones for each other and so much more. Like, When John killed Andy and was about to let himself rot in prison: Oliver pulled him out and gave him somewhere to

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Ehh I don’t really have one??? BUT i don’t like how the writers made him brush off his grudge against floyd lawton after working with him and Amanda Waller for a day. He should’ve stayed at list a little mad.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

This!!

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

I don’t have one really. John is such a special character and I love him so much I guess my brain just doesn’t try to pick out similarities between him and other characters (if that makes sense.)

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Longsuffering accomplice to Oliver’s vigilantism. Now I think he’s someone with strict moral code and priorities who’s not afraid to bend (and sometimes break) for his family and friends. Also someone who’s been through so fucking much??? Like this guy has so much trauma that just goes untalked about?? His father died when he was young. His mom married the guy that was at fault for his father’s death. That guy (his stepdad) was a dick. He joined the army. His brother was presumed dead and he blamed himself for not being able to save him. Then he’s hired as a bodyguard for a guy who just got back from an island and is thrown into his crusade to save his city. This guys now his best friend and he has a wife and daughter, except NOW his best friend kidnapped his wife and left their infant daughter ALONE in an apartment. Then his best friends ran off together and left him to lead the team and protect the city. THEN they come back THEN he finds out that his brother is alive and that he’s been working for an evil organization that their villain of the week is partnered with/runs (can’t remember exactly HOW Damien Darhk was connected to hive) THEN his best friend (who he recently made up with) keeps pushing for him to help his brother but he obviously doesn’t trust either of them THEN he finally agrees to help his brother/try to save him and locks him in a cell/metal box in the bunker and goes to see him everyday THEN WHEN HE FINALLY THINKS THAT HIS BROTHER IS ON HIS SIDE AGAIN HE TURNS ON HIM AND HIS FRIEND DIES BECAUSE OF IT. THEN HE ACCIDENTALLY OFFS HIS BROTHER THEN HE LEAVES HIS TEAM AND FRIENDS BECAUSE HES SO GUILTY AND GOES BACK TO THE ARMY. THEN GETS IN TROUBLE AND ALMOST LETS HIMSELF ROT IN JAIL BECAUSE HES THINKS HE DESERVES IT FOR LAUREL DYING AND KILLING ANDY. I could go on and on about how much TRAUMA he has and then his green lantern arc was just SHOVED UNDER THE RUG??? Like, we could’ve gotten Diggle as a main MAIN character again but nooooo. He’s such a layered character and it was all thrown under the rug after arrow ended.

Sorry, I have a lot feelings about his character and some of them are intelligible. So uh yeah.

[From this ask game]

#thanks for the ask! #ask box #ask game #john diggle #arrow #arrowverse

[kellanved-ammanas]

Demoman Ships & Pals - Medic: Memory Related

[A/N] Scout's here too but I wanted them both not to remember because the idea is that they got blackout drunk together. So someone needed to fill them in and Scout seemed like a funny option because of his motivation to wake them and tell them to go fix it.

~

“Hey morons, wake the fuck up. You got a mess to clean up.”

Medic groaned and pressed himself further into the warmth at his side. There was nothing in the world he wanted to do less than wake up right now.

That warmth proved to be Demo as he mirrored Medic’s groan. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.” His words were barely decipherable through his accent and tired mumbling.

“I doubt that,” Scout replied, being his usual obnoxious self and not leaving. “And you’re the one that got Medic drunk so it’s partly your fault too no matter what. Meaning you get to help clean it up. So get the fuck up already.” He prodded Medic in the back with what could only be the toe his shoe.

With a snarl, Medic shot up to glare at him. The intimidation factor of which was no doubt harmed by the fact that he and Demo had apparently fallen asleep cuddling on the floor of the medical laboratory next to the operating table. Finding his glasses on the floor beside him, Medic gave them a quick wipe down so he could get a good look around.

A not insubstantial amount of dried blood covered the floor and parts of the wall. Likely more was on the operating table itself judging based off the way it had obviously run down the legs of it. Naturally some of it had ended up on Medic, staining his once white lab coat and sticking to his bare hands and arms. It covered Demo too. All odd enough on its own but there were also various organs littered around the place, all of which looked to have been dried out for some time, making their source quite mysterious.

“What the hell happened here?” Demo asked, voicing Medic’s own question as he sat up too.

“You mean you don’t even remember?” Scout said, spreading his arms in a ‘what the fuck?’ gesture.

Careful of his pounding head and the dizziness it brought, Medic stood and extended an arm to help Demo stand too. There was indeed more mess on the table. But also, on the counter were various beakers and flasks, some of which were partially filled with mysterious chemicals. A quick step over to the fridge revealed the source of the blood; Medic’s entire stockpile of the stuff was missing. Where had the organs come from though? He didn’t keep that many random human organs on hand, especially in such poor condition.

“We were quite drunk,” he said as he looked back over at Scout. “So just tell us what happened?”

“You guys raided the Tuefort graveyard, stole all the bodies, brought them back here and then somehow made a zombie army out of them that’s now terrorizing Tuefort. And some of them spit explosive goop so I know you’re not innocent.” He pointed at Demo. “So you guys gotta get this shit cleaned up before Miss Pauling finds out and gets mad at all of us again even though you’re the only ones at fault for almost causing an apocalypse again.”

Medic exchanged a look with Demo that ended in them both chuckling. Even when black out drunk Medic was one of the single most powerful people on Earth, he was basically a god. How’d they’d done it was a mystery but that only made it all the more impressive.

“Yeah, ha ha, really funny guys. I’m over here trying to be good for once to impress Miss Pauling and all you chucklenuts keep doing stuff that pisses her off because she has to clean up after you all the time. That makes it really hard to talk to her because she’s always too busy dealing with everyone else’s messes to talk to me. And, yeah, that includes my messes too sometimes but I’m really trying to do better here but you guys keep making it hard. Oh and also, I guess like a zombie apocalypse would be bad or whatever. So you dumbasses gotta fix it.”

“Calm down, laddie,” Demo said, still chuckling a little. “We’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Knowing him, that would likely involve explosives. Which was for sure the most surefire way to fix it.

“We must be sure to capture at least one,” Medic said. “Preferably more. I need to study them.” So he could figure out how he’d done it as well as how Demo had gotten some of them to spit explosive substances without exploding themselves.

“Yeah, yeah. First, let’s get some coffee and toast though, eh?”

As eager as Medic was to get to work they did indeed need to to do something about their hangovers first. So before Scout could try to make any kind of impatient protest, he followed Demo out. Today was going to be a long day but hopefully it would ultimately be a productive one too.

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #demoman #medic #medic/demo

[kj-1130]

Anything For You

Chapter 2

based on the many requests to see some sister bonding

previous chapter || series masterlist

Ever since she came back from the dead, Natasha had been spending a lot of time at Tony’s place. With the compound being blown to smithereens and having no way to contact her other family (not that she was really trying at the moment), there was really no other place for her to stay. She wasn’t willing to be hopping from motel to motel at the moment--she wanted something familiar, and Stark’s home happened to be that.

It was nice to be able to take her mind off of everything that had happened. From her trying to help the world recover from its major loss five years ago to being dead for a couple of days before being revived. With Morgan waking her up just about every morning with her cheerfulness about breakfast and her forcing the redhead to play any and every game under the sun, she had little to no time to think about anything else.

Even with her little free time, Natasha didn’t forget about you. She wondered how you were doing, how you were recovering now that you were out of the hospital… She wanted to give you space because she knew you--she knew you were probably overwhelmed by everything going on and she didn’t think her presence would help at this certain moment.

Despite living and being buddy-buddy with him, Natasha was unbelievably pissed at Tony. Every time he came out of his room and into her line of sight, she wanted to smack the shit out of him. How dare he sit up here, living comfortably as if he has no worries when his oldest daughter is basically couch surfing, wondering if she’ll ever be able to use her hands again? How dare he lay on that expensive ass mattress every night after telling Morgan bedtime stories as if she’s the only child he has? It all pissed the redhead off to no end.

“Auntie Nat?”

She looked over to Morgan who was sitting on the couch in the living room and going through her phone.

“Yeah sweetie?”

“Who is this on your phone?”

Walking over to see what the kid was talking about, her heart just about stopped. Morgan was referring to her lockscreen which was a picture of you and her that she took on your birthday a couple years back.

Morgan didn’t know you existed.

“That’s a...friend. That I haven’t seen in a while,” she obviously lied. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Kay?”

“Okay.”

Natasha all but stormed to Tony’s lab.

“Well hello to you too, Romanoff.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, ignoring the man’s expression of surprise. “Your daughter doesn’t know she has a sister.”

It’s as if she was ignored as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing.

“Do you not see the problem with this? The child you neglected for years is out there couch surfing somewhere while you’re here pretending to be oblivious to it all!”

Tony continued messing with the device in his hand until the redhead snatched it and tossed it against the wall.

“Hey-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Do you want a list?”

“Don’t start that with me right now,” Natasha groaned. “Morgan has no idea she has a sister. What fucked up thought process is going through your head that makes you think this is okay?”

Tony only shrugs, “I know I messed up, but so did she-“

“How? How in the world could she have possibly messed up? What could she have messed up?” the redhead exasperatedly asks. “She was a child—hell she still is! Her mother died, Tony, and I know you know what that’s like. She was looking for stability that only a loving environment could bring but you took her in as some pawn to fix your PR nightmares. Don’t you dare try and blame her for your faults!”

The man only lets out a sigh. Natasha rolls her eyes and lets out a bitter chuckle.

“You had a chance to have something the rest of us might never get, yet you threw it all away…because of what?”

The woman then leaves, knowing little to nothing would get through that man’s skull.

-

Nat had invited you for a day out. At first, you declined but MJ encouraged (made) you go. So here you were sitting on the couch, your leg shaking up and down, nervous about stepping outside for the first time in a while.

“Calm down,” Michelle gently instructed you, placing a hand on your bouncing knee. “It’ll be okay. I’m just one call away.”

You nodded and let out a sigh, trying your best to relax. You were doing good until your phone chimed, signaling that Natasha was waiting outside. You immediately got nervous all over again.

“What’s really wrong?” MJ asks. “It’s only Natasha, you’ve been out with her plenty of times before.”

“Yeah, before…all of this,” you gesture around vaguely. “I don’t know..something just feels weird.”

Your girlfriend lets out a sigh before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Well, whatever happens, just know that I’ll be here for you when you get back.”

“I know,” you nod. “I love you,” you whisper, lifting a shaky hand to her face.

“I love you.”

-

You knew something was off the second you stepped out of the apartment. And when you got into the car, you found out that your instinct had been right.

Behind the passenger seat was a tiny body in a car seat. Morgan Stark’s tiny body to be exact.

You glance at her through the mirror and turn to whisper to Natasha, “What is she doing here?”

“She wanted to meet her big sister.”

When Natasha had gotten done with her practically one-sided conversation with Tony, she decided to talk to Morgan privately. While she may not understand completely what’s going on, she still deserves to know that she has a sister.

The redhead slowly and gently revealed to the young girl that her lockscreen was a photo of her older sibling--someone she hadn’t met yet. She then proposed a meeting between the two and Morgan enthusiastically agreed.

The car ride was silent. Morgan had her tablet and headphones and you and Natasha just listened to the radio. Eventually, you all stopped at a nearby playground.

“Find a spot to sit,” Nat said, turning the car off. “I’ll get the stuff.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, thinking about what she could be talking about but you pushed it to the back of your mind as the child behind you started kicking her legs.

“Can we go play?”

“Uhh, sure.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car, making your way to the backseat, opening it and helping Morgan out. You place her on the ground and begin to walk towards the park.

You hear pattering footsteps behind you and suddenly, a small hand is gripping your own. Startled, you almost snatch your hand back but you look down to see little Morgan gazing up at you.

Taking a breath, you gently squeeze her hand and try to relax. You were not made to be around children.

“Why are your hands so shaky?” the little girl innocently asked.

“Umm, nerve damage,” you mutter.

“What’s that?”

“Uhhh, damage in your..in your nerves,” you replied, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand, simultaneously glancing around, wondering where the hell Natasha went.

Morgan nodded with furrowed eyebrows, signaling that she really didn’t know what you were going on about.

“Do you see a good spot?” you questioned after a few moments of silence.

The little brunette pondered and looked around the large park, trying to find a space that would appease her. “Right there,” she said, pointing towards a shaded area that was open and farther away from all the people.

She began to run over to the spot, dragging you with her. The two of you took a seat when you got there. Morgan glanced around while you took deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves. Your hands were shakier than normal and you could feel the sweat rolling down your neck.

“Natty said we were sisters,” the girl abruptly states. She was fiddling with her hem of the tutu she was wearing, glancing periodically at you. “Is it true?”

You stared at her in shock, mouth slightly agape.

“I hope it’s true. Cause I’ve always wanted a sister,” she whispers.

“Umm,” you whisper, looking around for Nat, wondering what was taking her so long. “I-I guess? Umm-”

“You guys got settled okay?” Nat asks as she comes around with a blanket and a picnic basket.

“Yeah!

The woman spread the blanket out onto the ground, gesturing the two of you to sit on it. She took a seat herself and began to take the food out of the basket.

“So,” the redhead starts while pouring Morgan a drink. “How have things been?”

“It’s been fine,” you reply, but let out a sigh when you see the look that Nat gave you. “It’s frustrating. MJ helps but…”

“You feel like you’re burdening her,” Natasha finishes for you. You shrug in response and take a grape.

“I wanna get better but I don’t know how--I don’t know if I can,” you whisper, feeling the tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You turn your head away and wipe your face, not wanting Morgan to see you like this.

“Hey,” Nat mutters, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re gonna get better, I promise you. It may take some time but I’ll be with you every step of the way. So will MJ and Wanda.” She presses her lips to your forehead and squeezes you a little tighter. “And hey, Morgan can be your little cheerleader.”

You let out a little laugh at the thought and gather yourself before turning back to Morgan.

“What’s your favorite color?”

The little girl’s face lights up and you listen as she goes on tangent after tangent.

-

“Baby? I’m home!”

MJ walked out from the hallway in her pajamas and smiled at your presence.

“Hey,” she said, going towards you to help you take your jacket off. She pecked your lips and hung it on the coat rack. “How was it?”

“Good, good. It was alright.”

Your girlfriend stared at you with a smile and slightly raised eyebrow.

“Fine. Morgan was there.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she led you towards the couch. Sitting beside you, MJ gestured for you to continue.

“It was um..scary at first. I didn’t really know what to do, how to act--it was just…” you paused to rub your eyes. “But Nat made it better, made it less scary.”

Michelle scooted closer to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, “Good, I’m glad.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, basking in each other’s warmth. MJ was constantly pressing kisses to your temple and you took it upon yourself to nuzzle deeper into her.

“She said I reminded her of Princess Tiana,” you suddenly stated with a chuckle. “Which is, meh, but, I’ll take the compliment any day.”

You felt Michelle straighten a bit and followed her lead, staring into her mischievous looking brown eyes.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“Oh yes,” she countered, nodding her head.

“Michelle, please.”

“Somebody has a new nickname,” the girl sang.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pulling away from her and moving to the other side of the couch. “I really don’t like you.”

“Oh, hush, you love me,” she said with a cheeky grin.

You smiled gently at her and leaned forward to give her a loving peck. “That I do,” you replied, giving her another kiss. “Movies and cuddles?”

“Ooh yes, maybe we can watch Princess and the Frog.”

“You can sleep on the couch.”

-_-_-_-_-_-

taglist

@coollemonsaresour @ximaginx @xx-narcissa  @jesuswasnotawhiteman  @yelena-belovas-wife @uselessgay101 @yomama010101 @freyathehuntress @sebastian-vettels @blueposthings @idek-5  @sirsell @augustvandyne  @emiliaisdead @evilcr0ne​  @bunnyweasley23​   @atlas-nex​ @daniphantom1​  @korekiyoss​ @itsyourgirlmalise​

#michelle jones x fem!reader #michelle jones x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #x black!reader #marvel x black!reader #anything for you #anything for you miniseries

[justmywriting1313]

Writing Prompts list 1 (Miscellaneous but mainly hurt/comfort)

Okay so I made this and another one that will be up soon for you guys so that while you're waiting for the taken for granted fic part 2 and other stuff you can request this with any hq character you want!!! 

Format of asking with example:

HQ character name: Ushijima

Timeskip: Yes or no

Prompt number: 1, 56 and 64

One line in which you explain angst or fluff 

RULES:

No more than three prompts per request. 

DIALOGUE PROMPTS 

MISCELLANEOUS (Meaning I dont know how to categorise them and Its 2 am and I lost my patience tho knowing me its probabs all fluffy protective angst)

(Some are obviously romantic and fluffy so i’ll mark them with a 💜 but the rest are here and there kind of thing)

“I’m worried about you”

“I meant it when I said I would protect you”

“I’m not stepping aside until you back up”

“It’s too cold for you to come out here without a jacket on”

“I’ll go see what the noise was”

“Stay on the phone with me”

“Promise me you’ll be safe”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you going there on your own”

“They did what to you?”

“I won’t let you go through something like that again” 

“I’m not perfect, but I’m trying my hardest to do everything to keep you safe”

“Do you even see how pale you are?”

“No you’re not fine. you need help!”

“I’m going to fix you right up okay?”

“I can’t stand seeing you in so much pain”

“I need to clean you up first”

“There’s so much blood”

“As cute as you are when sick and needy get better now please” 💜

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me with you taking care of me right?”

“Don’t ever leave my sight again”

“Where are you going? Its not safe right now” 

“You’re scared of that aren’t you? I told you so”

“Don’t touch them... don’t you dare touch them”

“It’s cute that you tried to protect me and all that but you’re like a foot shorter than me you know?” 💜

“I will always step in between you and something like that”

“No don’t do that it’s not safe” 

“I’ll drive you but please please don’t go like this”

“Wait let me walk you home”

“I’m not gonna let you put up with that”

“Stay behind me”

“I love you of course I’m going to defend you like that”

“Are you planning to stay glued to my side this whole evening?” 💜

“I’m coming to get you... dont you dare move”

“You don’t actually expect me to just let you go do you?”

“I’m not leaving this place without you” 

“It’s your fault for expecting me to take this seriously” 💜

“You’re sleeping with me tonight”💜

“You’re cute when you’re angry”💜

“I never said I don’t think about you” 💜 

“Say the words and I’m yours” 💜

“Would it kill you to relax?”

“Thats the problem! you don’t think you deserve something so you ruin it” 

“I don’t want your apology”

“You’ve never hurt me ever...(before)”

“I let you down”

“Fuck what everybody else thinks” 

“This is quite possibly the last thing I had wanted to be doing tonight” 

“Do not touch that... I’m warning you”

“Get your ass over here before I drag you here myself”

“I think it’s adorable how easily you blush” 💜

“I just want to take care of you” 💜

“Don’t tell me not to worry because I’m going to do that anyway” 💜

“If you’re so cold why didn’t you say something?”

“Wait this was a bad idea, now my face is like a tomato” 💜

“They are too good for me... don’t ya think?” 💜

“God you’re so precious” 💜

“Whenever I kiss your cheek you light up like the red light on the police car” 💜

“If I kiss you once I will do it a hundred more times... i’m warning you” 💜

“I’ve learned that you telling me to ‘shut up’ is really just you saying ‘stop making me blush’“ 💜

“I don’t care that you’re sick...In fact you need more cuddles now than ever” 💜

“Tell me I’m cute or I’ll tickle you” 💜

“I love you you insolent cockroach so shut up and let me love you!” 💜

“The best way you could possibly cheer me up is to give me some space” 

“I’m sad and I’m going to keep being sad until you hug me” 💜

“I’m sorry... I must have been a really awful person to you for you to think I would do that to you”

“Tell me about your day sweetheart, let me make it better” 💜

“It’s not up for discussion, you’re my date” 💜

“Baby please shut the fuck up... said with love and care” 💜

“Nothing is wrong with you”

“Tell me what’s wrong? please please please tell me whats wrong” 

“If you don’t want to keep standing may I suggest sitting in my lap? Much recommended. Great comfort quality” 💜

“You’re being cute and sweet. It’s making me want to kiss you” 💜

“I can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with” 💜

“Please don’t shut me out” 

“I can’t believe you haven’t noticed, I’m screaming for someone to notice, to help me, and yet no one does” 

“Is it that hard to ask for help?”

“We’re on the same team why the hell are you hiding things from me?”

“OMG is that why you’ve been wearing that sweater so goddam much”

“You’re okay?? Really you're okay? cause this doesn’t fucking look like it”

“Try to eat something please” 

“I’ll protect you... they’ll never touch you again” 

“Your ability to distract me is unmatched” 💜

“You promised me... you promised me you wouldn’t be reckless” 

“I feel like I’m going to love you for a very long time” 💜

“As long as we dont separate in the crowd I’ll be fine” 

“You told me you were okay... you promised me you were okay”

“How does anyone expect me to deal with this?”

“Hush now, It’s alright. you’re not alone” 💜

“I love you even when you’re sleepless, annoying and frustrated or rather frustrating” 💜

“You’re my baby, and i’ll be damned if anyone tries to say otherwise” 💜

“My future has you in it. Everything else is just a bonus” 💜

“If you think I’m not sleeping on your chest/boobs all night you’re wrong” 💜

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“I might’ve just lost the only good thing to have happened to me”

“Just one more chance please I’ll do anything”

“Well you're not allowed to leave me ever okay please promise promise never”

“I’m sorry I won’t do it again”

“Can you keep holding my hand please” 

“Let me hug you” 💜

“You always duck away when you smile... please let me see you” 💜

“Like I expected you're much comfier than my pillow” 💜

“You came back?”

“I promised you this didn’t I”

“I love you a lot more than you will ever believe” 💜

“Quit smiling at me, I cant stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that” 💜  

“Wait dont pull away not yet” 💜

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home” 💜

“If I do this you have to promise to kiss me” 💜 

“It’s my turn to use, my turn to hurt someone else instead of being hurt...” 

“Im like 99% sure this is illegal” 

“This is my favourite day ever” 💜

“I’m not moving. Your lap is comfy” 💜 

“You’re my new pillow” 💜 

“Please dont make me answer that”  

“Did you just hiss at me” 

“Its 6 in the morning. You are not having vodka”

“What was I supposed to do? the kids they ambushed me” 💜 

“You dont know what you do to me do you?” 💜 

“I just want you to be safe. Thats all Ive ever wanted for you” 

“I love you.. I do but I need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and I really have to pass this test tomorrow okay?” 💜

“You weren’t there... why weren’t you there?” 

“I’m going to die and I’m going to die with an absolute idiot” 

“Lie to me please I’m begging you lie to me. Make me feel whole again” 

“What am in your life? Because as of lately I feel as though I have been nothing to you” 

“Fight me you stuffy bitch? Come o whatch’ya gonna do? you're just a stuff toy nothing more nothing less” 💜

“you're about as intimidating as a Chihuahua” 💜

“Come back to bed” 💜 

“No I’m supposed to be making you feel good” 💜

“Hey god I dont know if you're up there or listening but please please make this work out... this one has to be it, the one that stick okay?” 💜 (This would be brilliant with atsumu)

“My friends keep telling me to fix this...tell me how to fix it” 💜 (This as well) 

“I don’t remember a fight or any reason for a break up so why?”

“Give me one reason... any reason at all to fall out of love with you please”

“Quit trying to fix me when you need to fix yourself”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you trusted me?

“What you did was stupid, reckless and dumb and exactly why I can’t leave you alone” 

“I dont want to do this without you” 

“Im sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me” 

“Did you do this to yourself?” 

“You know you try to hide it even though I can see right through you right?” 

“Theres something you’re not telling me” 

“Whats wrong with you? what the hell happened back there and I told you to stay by my side” 

“No I dont want to say goodbye not when I just got you back”💜

“You think its funny but its not. That hurts a lot” 

“I’ll always love you but trust is a different question entirely” 

“I dont want to live without you but that doesn’t mean I cant... dont make me prove it”

“I’d give up so much for just one more chance” 

“I need to go fix what I had with them”

“I want an answer and I’m not leaving without one” 

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they're you” 

“ And what happens if I do this” 

“You make me want things I can’t have” 

“When you love someone you just dont stop... its not a switch you can flick on and off... ever even when everyone around you roll their eyes and call you crazy... especially then” 💜

“I cant be your secret... not anymore”   

“Don’t you dare tell me to give up on you and us like you, me and what we had didn’t mean anything cause I’ll do anything.. go to the ends of the earth and burn world and people down but giving up on this is the one thing I can’t do”

“I’m allowed to be obsessed with you Im your spouse” 💜

.

Part 2 will be up soon! 

Consider donating to my Ko-Fi: Ko-fi.com/justmywriting1313 :)

#prompt list #dialogue prompt #HQ WRITING #HQ fics #hq imagines #hq headcanons #hq angst #hq fluff #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu fic #haikyuu prompts #angst prompt #fluff prompts #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort prompts #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x plus size reader #obey me! #obey me fic #obey me x reader #obey me prompts #obey me prompt list #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me writing

[crimson-charmed]

Happy late vore day! I offer a chunk of story which is the result of and setup for people getting eaten, but which itself contains 0% vore.

Contains: implied non-permanent death. Some vauge body horror-ish descriptions. I think that's it.

--

"Bones."

Curious at the call of their name, Bones seeps to the mouth of their cave, appearing as if materializing from the dark. Green is standing silhouetted in the cave entrance. They're hunched over, clutching their torso with one hand. Their tail lashes behind them.

"What did you do to me?"

Bones lumbers over to give Green a good look, though they keep some distance.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm starving."

"Eat something, then."

"You think I haven't? You think I haven't tried?"

"Maybe." Bones rolls a few of their eyes, "..Either way, I don't see how it's my fault."

Green spits, "It's your fault because you didn't put me back right after you killed me."

"..I hardly think has any relation to-"

Green lunges and clambers up Bones' side to look the entity in the eye themself.

"Fix it." they hiss.

"Er-" Bones stutters, caught off guard. They wonder if they might still slink away from the lizard. "I... Can't."

Green's grip tightens. "What do you mean, 'you can't'!?"

"I, ah... hm." Bones considers. "You seem to have me mistaken for someone else. I couldn't 'fix' you if I wanted to." Green narrows their eyes, so Bones adds, "But, ah, it can't be that bad, right? I did my best. You've got all your fingers and teeth, I think."

Green digs their claws into Bones and bares their teeth. Bones blinks, and wordlessly sinks the eye Green is looking at under their surface.

"YOU- RRGH-"  Green pulls their dagger from their belt, but before they can do anything with it Bones snaps a set of jaws around them, pinning them in place. They writhe like a vicious animal held at arm's length.

"I didn't- Is it so bad?? Green? Is it really so bad? You're alive, aren't you?"

"AM I?" They snap, "If you killed me and now I hunger for the flesh of the living, aren't I some fucking undead monster!?" They claw for another of Bones's eyes. "Fix it. If you can't do it, then you're going to find me someone who can."

Bones stares at the lizard. The drive they have to bite and claw even trapped between Bones's teeth is almost a little scary. Nerves of steel, the little bastard, and bolstered by desperation and fury. Bones gets the feeling Green is the type who would not have stayed dead even without being bought back. Bones gets the feeling they are that annoying type of problem which will not go away on its own.

"..Fine," Bones says carefully, "I can't fix you, but I'll help you if you stop trying to claw out my eyes. Deal?"

Green glares, and takes a deep breath that does not do anything to hide their still-boiling anger.

"Deal." They snarl.

Bones spits Green out on the ground.  Green stands quickly, and watches Bones with suspicion- or perhaps authority. Bones stretches and shakes themself out, unconcerned.

Green tilts their head and grimaces as Bones moves, unable to keep up with the way the dark shapes morph... until quite suddenly they are recognizable as a torso, arms, legs... and Bones cracks their spine and shakes themself out again.

"Gods, it's been a while.. Are you ready?"

Green sets their jaw and nods firmly. They lead the way out of the cave.

--

#subject to change etc etc #placeholder names too. Green is not green. #crimson's writing tag #crimson's oc tag #next part to come uhhh maybe next year idk.