#injured my knee two years ago so I skipped last year

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #marvel fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #white wolf #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine

[austarus]

Timeless!Harrison Wells x Reader - White King, Black Queen

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2267

You narrowed your eyes as the city continued to bustle, noise from people and cars emitted in the air. Clouds hung sparsely over Central City as the waning moon took the place of the sun high in the sky. The wind blew a light breeze through your hair. You kicked a leg back and forth gently as you sat on the edge of the STAR Labs tower wings. Your other leg was bent close to your body, an arm resting over your knee. The height didn’t scare you so much as it used to. In fact, you didn’t mind being so close to the edge anymore. If you fell, then you fell. Truth be told, your powers would save you whether you willed it to or not. Some would say it’s a curse, others not so much. Your umbrakinesis acted like a defense mechanism at those times. A sigh left your lips as you straightened up your back, cracking it. Relief echoed through your body, but your heart felt heavy. Time is ticking... You knew what was happening downstairs, Gideon had alerted you when someone entered the Time Vault. It wouldn’t be completely wrong to say that you didn’t want to face him – couldn’t get attached since he’d been here. Not again. Staying up here was your way of avoiding that problem until… Until what, though?

The hair at the back of your neck stood up, a chill ran down your spine as your shadows alerted you of a presence a distance behind you. Turning your head slightly, you sent an icy look to the one person you dreaded to see. The face of the man you had seen pass one too many times. Their looks from their final moments imprinted in your mind for this one to come back. He was the last thing you had of them.

Harrison Wells.

A small smile was on his face, his hair tousled with his clear-framed glasses perched on his nose. He knew you’d be up here. The others told him you’d been up here since his reincarnation into the world. Since he’d made contact with Team Flash to help them and explain his predicament of currently living. But really, Harrison would have known if no one had told him. He had sensed it. Seen it – the images flickered past in his brain. The other versions of himself with you up here – the foreign familiarness that he personally did not experience.

But nothing more than a dreadful reminder of what’s past.

“I’ve come to say good-bye,” the genius started in a soft voice, wanting to approach you carefully. Your glare bothered him, yet he knows it shouldn’t, for once Harrison leaves, he will be united with Tess, the love of his life. Over and over and over again.

You snorted, turning your gaze to the stars that twinkled away from the clouds. You could see the constellations of Cassiopeia, winking brightly light-years away. “Such a shame, you could have helped them with Godspeed.” A bitter laugh left your lips as you recalled Nash showing you how to recognize the constellations and where to navigate from there. Sherloque would drink his tea up here with you and converse about his cases. HR would read to you his latest ideas and novels while you gave your input. You would drag Harry out of his lab to get some fresh air. And Eobard… he was the one who showed you this view, before Barry had woken up, before the Particle Accelerator had gone online.

“Team Flash is more than capable of handling threats on their own.”

“I take it you think that having a Wells must be a handicap, hm?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmph.”

“I couldn’t leave without telling you good-bye.” You pressed your lips thinly and Harrison continued, pocketing his hands in his dark coat. “It didn’t feel right to go without saying that.”  The night was getting colder, yet you remained out here in a thin jacket. Dare he say, he worried a bit?  You turned to fully look at him from your seated position. “I… won’t deny the sentiment I feel towards you. The memories of the past Wells. Their thoughts – well, previous thoughts – and feelings are still here.” Harrison had gestured to his head then placed a hand on his heart. Bile rose at the back of your throat as the smiling images of the boys hit your mind. You bit your lip hard as he spoke, “Each one of them felt strongly for you, but I’m not them. They’d want you to move on. To live-”

“No!” Your patience snapped, standing up rapidly with expert footing. Shadows went rampant in the night, wind howling in his ears. “You don’t get to say that!” Darkness immediately consumed the atmosphere and air around you both. Unbridled anger licked up in your heart and soul as you took heavy steps towards him. Harrison couldn’t see, but he could feel the moving darkness as he stood his ground. “You have no right to act all high and mighty towards me.” A hiss left his lips as a dark particle lashed at his arm, burning through his coat and marring his skin just as he heard your anger burn in your next words. “You don’t understand the strings that fate has chained me with! Nor will you ever understand my burden.”

***Flashback***

“What is it that you want?” You glared at the entity. The Monitor had appeared in your kitchen as you were pouring yourself some alcohol to enjoy your quiet night. You had taken some time away from all the heroes and villains running around.

“I came because I require your assistance for the Crisis.”

“Pass, I’m not in the mood to play the hero.”

“The point is not to be a hero or the villain, but to honor fate’s will.”

“Well fate can go hump a stump for all I care,” you sipped on your choice of alcohol, you turned away from the eternal entity only to find him in front of you right as you had exited your kitchen. A deep frown crossed your features. This is such a drag.

“Fate has bound your life to Harrison Wells the moment you first met him years ago.”

“False, that was Eobard masquerading as Wells. So, technically no.”

“That technicality may be so, but fate saw the speedster as your gateway to the rest of them. Without Thawne you would not have been so tied to Harrison Wells’ existence.” Rolling your eyes, you took another sip, already knowing you’d need a couple of glasses to forget about this interaction. “Your life is bound to his. To them.” The Monitor had you right where he wanted you, pushing images into your mind to allow you to see reason. “You were a lover.” You flinched as the image of Eobard appeared in your mind. “A partner.” Harry. “A friend.” HR. “And a confidante.” Sherloque. “Now this one needs you as well, he is in danger of himself with the Anti-monitor. My opposite entity.” You knew he was referring to Nash, the multiverse explorer with the haughty attitude and snarky comments.

“…”

“You are the anomaly that exists in the multiverse, there is no other in your position.” The entity saw the hesitation flicker in your being. “The time has come for you to be his protector.”

***Time Skip***

Nash panted, on the ground of this desolate land on his hands and knees. His mouth felt dry, tasting iron in his mouth from the blood on his split lip. How much longer can he endure this? The Anti-monitor continued to laugh at him, to mock him, for his weakness. Pariah gripped hard at the dirty snow, blood and mud defiled the pure whiteness. He couldn’t get back up. His body ached. No matter how hard Nash tried to push back, the Anti-monitor was too strong for him even with these temporary powers.

“Humans are such fickle beings,” the anti-entity spoke in a grand manner, “Soon the multiverse will be mine and there shall be no flaws. No humans to corrupt my domain.” The eternal being gathered his divine power into the palm of his hand and fired anti-matter at his appointed Pariah. The one to bear witness of the end of the multiverse. His curse.

Nash shut his eyes; this was the end. This was his end. A breath left him, what he expected to be his final breath. But the final blow never came. Ringing greeted Nash’s ears as he opened his eyes. Standing in front of him, shielding his body was you and your dark powers. For whatever reason it withstood the anti-matter as particles clashed against one another. You stood defiantly and gracefully in your fighting positions, conjuring your dark spectacles from every shaded corner.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking monster.” You growled, your hands working magnificently to bind the Anti-monitor down. Once bound your umbra became spears and swords that pierced through the entity. While it could not kill the Anti-monitor, it slowed him down – meaning it would slow down his assault on Nash. You needed to get him to safety, needed him to have enough strength to teleport you two away from this dimension. And that’s exactly what you convinced him to do when you grabbed him, hugging his injured body to yourself as he fought to stay conscious.

***End Flashback***

“You don’t understand what loss truly is! You don’t get how hard it is to move on from this.” Just as you had moved, so had Harrison. A dagger of darkness at his throat, clenching the front of his cloak as he held a dagger of light to your own throat. Harrison  gritted his teeth as he used his powers to light up the area in his green light. “This pain, the misery of losing over and over and over again. To bear the burden of fate’s strings only to watch them all fall.” He flinched at how the veins around your eyes had darkened to a charcoal color. His throat dried as fear hit him. Harry’s memory flashed into his mind – the memory of you in this state, accidentally killing a meta in self-defense. “You’re just a selfish man, running away from what’s in front of him.” Harrison’s light battled against your darkness to keep the physical manifestations of umbra away from harming his body. “I despise people like that.”

“I’m only doing what’s best for me.”

“By what, Harrison? Running to the past? What’s in the past is best left in the past, those who hold on to the past don’t appreciate the present.”

“Such hypocritical words coming from someone who sulks around up here for what once was.”

“You don’t fucking know anything about me. All you have are some second-hand memories, but you don’t truly know me and what I’ve been through. You’re just like Barry.”

“And you’re any different?”

“At least I know the difference between reality and a desperate dream.”

“…” He knew Tess is doomed to die for time to flow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cherish every second with her until it was time. Maybe he was a desperate man chasing after a desperate dream, but he would until the bitter end. For Tess.

“A Time Loop is just a miserable notion for you to see Tess when her destiny is already a fixed time point. Just like Barry’s mother. Their deaths are absolute. Even with your Timeless powers you can’t interfere with what’s set in place.”

“That may be so, but I’ve fulfilled my part here – at least I have someone to return home to, even if they are doomed to die. I could be by her side over and over again.”

Harrison’s words pierced your heart, you pushed the tears back. The ache in your heart throbbed at a greater rate. At least… he had the power to return to his someone… The genius saw the haunting dejection in your eyes, the way your shoulders quivered as you tried to keep yourself together. He regretted the words that left his mouth…

“Do as you please,” you whispered, loosening your grip on his jacket to let him go. The darkness dissipated as you walked back to your perch with pocketed hands. “I’m done begging…” You mumbled to yourself so quietly that he didn’t catch your last statement. A tear left your eyes as you stood tall where you once sat.

“Good-bye,” Harrison murmured to the wind drifting in your direction before turning and leaving. A part of him felt torn by the things he had spat at you. What’s done is done. I doubt I’ll be back here any time soon. Clenching and unclenching his hand, Harrison shut his eyes and summoned his powers to pass through time. Tess, I’m coming home.

“Good-bye, Harrison.” Another tear fell, this time you wiped it as the night continued. He was gone. They were gone. You were alone, once again spectacularly alone and cold.

The pieces are all in place. The time has come…

Time still ticked as seconds went bye. A voice whispered at the back of your mind; the presence residing there since his exorcism. The one that kept you company through all this.

“It’s time, my queen.”

Checkmate

#harrison wells x reader #og harrison wells #timeless wells #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison wells #The Flash #the flash cw #the cw #team flash #the flash fanfiction #nash wells #the monitor #Sherloque Wells #harry wells #hr wells

[elvish-sky]

You’re Mine {Fili x Reader}

A.N: i already posted this but my dumb ass accidentally deleted it so here we go again! I’m so sorry! I wrote this for the lovely @guardianofrivendell who deserves lots of things, but especially Fíli fanfiction! It’s based on this post. I hope I did alright, I loved writing it and hope you guys like it as much as I do!

Word Count: 1,951

Summary: You and Fíli have always disliked each other, but something brings you closer together.

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Warnings: Xenophobia, Angst, Fluff, Injuries

****

You’re Mine

“I don’t understand why she needs to be here!” Fíli slammed his fist on the table.

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not like you’re adding much to the conversation yourself, sitting there with your arms crossed like a baby.”

It was your weekly evening dinner with the Company, and things were going… about as well as usual.

Everyone else sat there, silent or quietly chatting with the person next to them, while you and Fíli sniped at each other. Even months after reclaiming Erebor, you and the dwarf still detested each other. As a human traveling with the Company, tensions had been high with everyone at first but the rest of the group had eventually warmed up to you, in no small part because of your help getting the elves on their side during the battle. Not Fíli.

Fíli drew breath to retort, but before he got the chance Thorin stood.

“Y/N, Fíli, if you don’t stop this outrageous behavior I will send you to your rooms right now.”

“He started it,” you exclaimed.

“I did not!” Fíli stood up, glowering, but a glare from Thorin made him sit right back down.

The two of you spent the rest of the dinner sullenly glaring across the table at each other, making faces and basically doing everything you could to insult the other while staying silent. Once it was over, you stomped out of the room, closely followed by Fíli. You make it halfway down the corridor before his hand on your shoulder turns you around.

“Why did you say I started it?”

“Because you did,” you huffed,

“I did not!” His face was getting redder with anger.

“You did.”

“I don’t see why you feel the need to make every single thing my fault, Y/N!” Fíli’s face was closer to yours than it had ever been before, you could feel the resentment pouring off of him in waves.

“I don’t! I was just telling the truth!” Your fists were clenched by your sides.

“You never tell the truth, Y/N. You just make things up to make me look bad!”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, too angry to speak so you just walked away, leaving Fíli behind, mouth open as if about to say something else.

You walked through the hallways, heading towards your room, stewing.

Make things up to make him look bad. Bah! He does that himself. And besides, he had started it.

He always started it. You didn’t know what it was about you that rubbed him the wrong way, but something certainly had.

Lost in your thoughts, you eventually looked up to see a door you didn’t recognize. You were so furious that you must have taken a wrong turn. Sighing, you turned around, trying to recognize your surroundings.

They were completely unfamiliar.

You sighed again, picking a random corridor and starting down it, hoping it would lead somewhere you recognized. You made your way through the twisting halls, emerging into a crossroads. You stopped. The archway on the left had those carvings, and the one on the right had Khuzdul for Royal spelled out above. You had never thought announcing where the royalty lived was a good idea, security-wise, but it wasn’t your decision. But if that arch was one your right, and the other was on your left, then that meant your room was in the corridor straight ahead!

Relieved, you hurried towards it, tired and ready to go to sleep and end this day, but before you reached it a dwarf melted out of the shadows next to you. Startled, you backed away, only to find another directly behind you. You moved to take the passageway to the left, but a third appeared.

You were surrounded.

“Um, Hello? Is there anything I can do for you?” Your hands were shaking, but you weren’t quite sure why.

The dwarf that had first appeared, one with ragged brown hair, spoke. “You can get out of our mountain, human.”

Your eyes widened in shock, but before you could do anything else, he kicked you in the stomach. You doubled over, the wind knocked out of your lungs, and your head was met with another kick, snapping it back into the hands of the second dwarf. He grabbed you, and held one of your arms, the third dwarf holding the other so that you were trapped.

The first one stepped closer, fists closed. He started raining blows on your face, hitting your lip, chin, eye, jaw, until it felt like it all was on fire. He punctuated each one with the word, “leave,” until all you could hear was the ringing in your ears and that one word. He kicked you in the stomach again several times, also striking your thighs and shins, your arms, until you were aching all over. Finally, he stopped, and the others dropped you to the ground where you huddled in a heap.

He bent over you. “Your people didn’t come to help us all those years ago. And look! Now, none of ours will come to help you.”

He spat on your face before entering the arch to the left with the two others, leaving you collapsed on the ground.

You lay there for a while, too weak to move, only able to breathe, ears still ringing. You mustered the energy to sit up, but couldn’t do any more than that.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps heading down the hall, towards you. You braced yourself, drawing your knees up and hiding your face, expecting another attack. But all you heard was;

“Y/N?”

The footsteps rushed closer, and you sensed someone kneeling in front of you. Their hand was placed on your shoulder.

“Fíli?” Your voice came out all broken as you lifted your head, seeing him kneeling in front of you with the most concerned expression on his face.

Fíli reached out, cupping the side of your face so gently that it didn’t even hurt. He tilted your chin up, into the faint moonlight shining from a skylight cut into the rock far above. His soft thumb brushed your lip, and he drew it away to reveal a streak of red painted across his skin. Tilting your head at a different angle into the moonlight, his eyes darkened as he saw the swollen flesh around yours. Your heart skipped a nervous beat in the silence, thudding so loudly you were sure he could hear it as he looked you in the eyes.

His voice was soft, tight, jaw set, the anger barely restrained as he spoke.

“Who did this to you?”

“No one,” you croaked out.

“Tell me, Y/N. They don’t get to hurt you like this. You are mine, mine, and I am going to make them pay.”

Your eyes widened at the word ‘mine.’ Suddenly, things made sense that hadn't before, like how the seat next to him was the only one left whenever you arrived anywhere like it had been saved for you. Like how Dwalin or Gloin always winked at you after you fought with him. Like how Kíli had called you the Khuzdul word for ‘sister’ for months, not knowing that Balin had been teaching you the language. It explained the blush that had risen on his face when you had pinned him the last time sparring, sweaty. But it didn’t explain why he insulted you at every opportunity, took every chance he could get to make a jab. But you couldn’t have him rampaging through the kingdom, so that conversation would have to wait a moment.

“Fíli. Please, don’t.”

His eyes grew soft again, the golden light of rage dimming into something calmer. Standing, he brushed off his trousers, before reaching down to scoop you into his arms, careful not to jostle you. With you in his arms, he set off along the corridor to the right.

“My room is the other way,” you pointed out.

“I know. We’re going to mine,” he clarified, and you settled back into silence, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes to ease the pounding in your head.

You blinked your eyes open at the soft sound of a door opening. Fíli walked across the room after shutting it behind himself and lay you gently on the bed. He propped your head up with a pillow, and dunked a cloth in the washbasin before returning to your side and gently dabbing away the blood on your face.

“Fíli.”

His eyes met yours.

“Why are you doing this? You despise me.”

His hand stopped wiping your face.

“I don’t actually.”

“Then what’s with the jabs, the insults, the constant bickering?”

“I thought you hated me. And I had fallen so hopelessly in love with you that it was the only way I thought I could protect myself from hurting my heart even more.”

He sighed. “And it didn’t even work. I’m still hopelessly in love with you.”

You managed a faint smile.

“I guess it didn’t work for either of us.”

His head snapped up.

You continued, “I love you too.”

Fíli smiled, getting up and grabbing a dressing for your eye. “So, we’re not the smartest when it comes to this kind of thing.”

You laughed, ignoring the pain in your chest as he pressed the compress to your eye. “No, we are not. And you can never, ever tell Kíli about this.”

“Deal.”

You smiled at him, shaking the offered hand.

“But seriously, Y/N. Who did this?” His eyes were darkening again.

“I told you, it wasn’t anyone. I fell.”

He slammed his fist down on the bedside table and you were strongly reminded of him doing the exact same thing earlier, in a much different situation.

“That is bullshit, Y/N. Not even you are that clumsy. Now tell me so that I can stop it from ever happening again.”

You sighed. “I don’t know who it was. Three dwarves attacked me in the halls, but it was dark so I couldn’t see them well. All I know is that- that they were mad I was human. That I deserved to be injured and left there, because my people didn’t help yours when the dragon came.”

You started to cry. “And I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that they didn’t help but I’ve tried to help, I think I helped, and I feel bad that I still need to do more.”

“Y/N,” Fíli brushed a tear from where it had run down to the tip of your nose, “you don’t need to do anything. You helped us get our home back. You’ve never owed us anything, and you definitely don’t now. And I’m going to hunt those dwarves down, whatever it takes, and make them pay.”

You reached out, laying a trembling hand on his arm. “Please stay instead.”

He looked down at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “I’ll rest better knowing nothing can happen to me if you’re here.”

His face softened and he unbuckled the sword belt he had slung on, removing his boots, and then climbing carefully onto the bed next to you. Lifting your head, he moved so that it rested on his chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. The soft rhythm of his breath lulled you into a daze, and the last thing you heard before drifting into the unconsciousness was the whispered words, “I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again, my love.” You fell asleep with a smile on your face, which Fíli gazed at, not believing that you actually loved him too but so happy that you did until he joined you in the land of dreams.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit

I’m also gonna tag those of you who commented on the first one, not because of any desire for more notes just because I feel absolutely terrible and like a total dumbass and I want you to know where it is @cassiabaggins @claraofthepen @beenovel @who-ever-said-i-was-nice @thewhiteladyofrohan @hey-its-nonny @anjhope1

Also tagging @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth thanks for some inspiration!!!

#fili #fili x reader #the hobbit fili #fili story #fili imagine #fili oneshot #fili x y/n #fili x you #fili durin #fili fic #fili fanfic #fili fanfiction #maiawrites #lord of the rings #the hobbit #jrr tolkien

[isamijoo]

Waiting For You At Platform 9 and Three Quarters

Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'King'! My own prompt, yey! CW: 392. No warnings. Features Professors!Harry&Draco. Spans over a period of 10 years. Thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the beta! Title is the English translation of a song title by the Kpop group Tomorrow X Together.

~

Ten years ago, their eyes met when the Wizengamot sentenced Draco to four years of probation and not Azkaban.

Nine years ago, Draco pretended not to recognise Harry when they bumped into each other after Harry had just walked out of his Mind Healer’s office at St Mungo’s.

Eight years ago, nobody dared to kick the Saviour out as he followed and watched Draco prepare potions for the ill and injured at the hospital.

Seven years ago, Harry faked stomach aches and headaches just to skip Auror training and watch Draco some more.

Six years ago, they laughed in each other's arms after pulling a prank on a paparazzi who had tailed them throughout their dinner date.

Five years ago, Harry gave Draco a long, deep kiss before a Portkey whisked him across the globe for his Potions Mastery.

Four years ago, Harry quit the Aurors and moved into the quarters at Hogwarts.

Three years ago, Harry broke the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts curse.

Two years ago, Harry paid an extravagant sum of money to spend a romantic holiday with Draco in Prague.

Last year, Slughorn retired (again) and Harry told the Headmistress that he knew somebody, but they needed to wait a little bit.

Last month, Harry received a postcard from Moscow that boasted “I passed with distinction.” but what it really promised was “I’m coming home, Harry.”

Today, Harry finds Draco at King's Cross Station, sitting on one of the benches on the Hogwarts Express platform, slender legs crossed and hands clasped over one knee as he glances at the crowd expectantly. He is facing away, allowing Harry several moments to drink in Draco’s appearance: he has grown into a handsome man, short white-blond hair curling at his nape and around his ears, still pale and pointy just the way Harry likes, dressed in dark emerald robes that are so unapologetically Slytherin, Harry can't help but smile.

Then Draco sees him and stands up. Waits for Harry to come closer. Curls a hand on the front of Harry’s robes, over his heart, and inhales, eyes falling shut.

“Good to see you again, Professor Malfoy,” Harry mutters, placing a hand over Draco’s.

His eyes open and Harry finds himself once again lost in the sea of silver. “It’s good to be back, Professor Potter.”

#drarry #drarry microfic #isamijoo

[ktheist]

finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 2.1k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”

x

“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.

the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.

but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.

“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.

“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”

“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.

“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.

if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.

“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 

“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.

“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 

but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.

“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”

you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”

it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.

no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”

“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.

and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.

“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.

but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.

he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.

“surprise?”

x

some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.

the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.

“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.

though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”

“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.

 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”

“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.

in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.

“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 

one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 

still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.

she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.

somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.

“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”

she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.

“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.

you laugh, hugging back.

x

the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.

the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.

seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.

“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.

he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.

you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.

that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.

“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”

“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.

he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”

your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”

silence lulls in once again.

it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.

“do we?” seokjin muses.

“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.

“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.

“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.

“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”

“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”

seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.

no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.

“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”

you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”

that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”

“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”

something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”

“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.

“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”

you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 

and seokjin?

he’s nowhere to be found.

the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.

but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 

“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”

you do as told.

eventually.

since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.

mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.

taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.

namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-

“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”

you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.

and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.

“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.

he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.

then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.

you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.

he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”

x

taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​

#bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you #seokjin x you #bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin fics #bts fics

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Gundabad - Thranduil x reader

Hi, I saw you posted about requests so I wondered if I could request prompts #20, #37 and #45 with Thranduil x fem reader. Thank you ❤

Hey, thanks for requesting @aduialel​ !  This is for everyone requesting, IF A PROMPT HAS BEEN CROSSED OFF, YOU CAN NO LONGER USE IT! Sorry, I forgot to cross off #37, but I’ll write the other two.

20. “I’ve been forgotten…” 45. “Where is Y/N? She was meant to be with you!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Thranduil x reader Summary: the war-grounds of Gundabad are steeped in tragedy and sorrow. Warnings: deviating from original plot (i.e. time/cause of Thranduil’s wife’s death), death, sadness,  Word Count: 2,116 words

All non-English words are in Sindarin.

Y/N looked casually to her side, taking in the silver-robed King in her peripheral vision. He looked straight ahead, a cool elegance in his gaze that matched the coldness of everything he was - from his ‘war tiara’ as Y/N teasingly called it, to the way he sat. Such arrogance in posture Y/N had never seen before then, but she didn’t mind it. In some ways, she was much the same.

“You know, Y/N, we need to get you an elk,” he said, turning to her with a smile equal parts warm and cocky, so characteristic of him.

“A moose?” Y/N raised an eyebrow in response, patting her horse’s neck that matched that of every other Elven soldier. “Please. I would sooner die.”

They continued in a comfortable silence, leading the formidable army of Mirkwood to Gundabad, realm of the Witch-King of Angmar. Y/N knew the other Elves of her realm, Taur-nu-Fuin (Mirkwood), found her strange, for being so close to the grief-stricken Elvenking, who had shoved away everyone else after the death of his beautiful wife, Elerrian, in a tragic Orc ambush. Fifty to one, she hadn’t stood a chance … not when she was surrounded and unarmed. 

Y/N, too, had mourned for the kind and beloved Queen, and she remembered fondly when she was placing flowers on Elerrian’s memorial statue, she’d run into a young blonde ellon (male elf) child. 

“Wow! You’re Lady Y/N!” he said, and she bent down, hands on her knees to make eye contact with him. “You’re so pretty!”

Y/N laughed, smiling at this adorable child. “Thank you! How do you know my name?”

“I’m me,” he said mysteriously. “I know everyone.”

“Who’s ‘me’?” Y/N asked. 

The child put his hand to his heart, extending it towards her with an endearingly cute formality. “Prince Legolas Thranduilion.”

Thranduil’s son … Y/N copied his greeting. “Lady Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“You should come to dinner with me and my Ada (Daddy)!” Legolas suggested enthusiastically, already taking your hand and skipping back towards the underground realm. 

Y/N had indeed come at the young Prince’s invitation, and Thranduil was captivated by her beauty from the moment he met her - her e/c eyes that sparkled in the torchlight when she laughed, how her h/c hair moved as she tossed her head back and forth, the way her s/c hand looked on his pale one whenever she handed him something and their hands brushed for the briefest of moments. Y/N had never known why Legolas had been so far away from the palace when he was fifteen autumns old (y’all, that’s like, five. and i think the mirkwood elves counting in autumns is a very romantic concept), never found out that Thranduil had sent him out to find this entrancing elleth (female elf).

Now, a few years later, Y/N was in a very comfortable friendship with Thranduil himself, though she would only admit to herself and no one else that her feelings for him extended beyond platonic infatuation. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way - Elves only married once, and Thranduil’s wife had passed.

Valar, I should be grieving for her, not lusting after her husband! Y/N growled to herself. But then she would be distracted by how soft his white-blond hair felt when he asked her to brush it out, how he would reserve his rare smiles for her, and her heart would flutter away again.

But she could not let herself be distracted.

Gundabad was dangerous, and she had to fight to the best of her ability.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Y/N noticed that Thranduil had held up a hand, and all of the Elves stopped immediately. 

Y/N drew her sword, Gweleth (it means woman of air, or something along those lines) with a clear shing!, letting the silver blade shine in the dwindling sunlight. Thranduil gave her an almost imperceptible nod, copying her motion with his familiar smirk that told her he anticipated the battle ahead. 

Guttural chants echoed off the tall walls before them, as the Elves stood in a formidable barrier, ready to end the Evil approaching from this land. 

“Orcs,” Y/N spoke, not needing to turn to her King to know he was listening. “The Witch-King sinks so low.”

He tilted his head forward in response, spinning his sword in a fluid movement. “He will not be able to sink any lower after we have buried him in the blood-soaked war-grounds of his fortress.”

Y/N grinned, running one of her fingers along Gweleth. “By all means, my King. Lead the way.”

It was then that the chants drew closer, and without warning, Orcs began to flood from behind their barriers.

Thranduil raised his sword with a roar, and Y/N kicked her horse into motion, following Thranduil’s elk with a cry of her own. As the Elves met the Orcs in a mess of a massacre, Y/N’s sword sliced through body after body. She felt a throb of worry when she could no longer see Thranduil, but forced her mind back to the far more pressing battle at hand. 

Thranduil, too, immediately noticed Y/N’s absence, and shouted to one of his generals, Authon.

“Go to Y/N! Make sure she’s safe!”

Authon nodded, turning to find the mounted girl, who slashed her sword with deadly accuracy.

A clawed hand wrenched Y/N suddenly from her horse, and she hit the ground hard, groaning as she spat some blood from her mouth.

“All right,” she growled. “You asked for it.”

She drew a second, shorter sword from the sheath on her back, and spun them around her, being absolutely covered in blood in a matter of minutes.

However, no matter how good things were looking for the Elves, it was an illusion. A sudden coldness sunk  over the war-grounds, and even the inhuman Orcs shivered. 

“The Witch-King…” Y/N breathed. Indeed, the black-robed thing strode through its army, and a terrifying silence fell upon the war-grounds. Everyone parted for it, and the Elves were too petrified to strike it down.

For some inconceivable reason, came towards Y/N. Maybe it saw she had not lowered her swords, maybe it felt her fear, but, for whatever reason, it still walked towards her.

Eerily quiet. Step by step.

“I am not afraid of you, Witch-King,” she declared, her words ringing through the heavy air. It had begun as a lie, but even as the words left her mouth she felt her fear leave. “I will never be afraid of darkness - it will always be overpowered with light.”

“Is that so?” the Witch-King’s words were frighteningly inhuman, booming and towering as he did over the (height) elleth. 

Y/N swung both her swords towards him, and he met them with his own, and as the weapons met with a harsh cry, the battle resumed. 

Thranduil had heard the exchange between Y/N and the Witch-King (who hadn’t?) and he fought to get to her, to help her, but wave upon wave upon wave of Orcs came at him all at once, and it began to become a struggle to defend himself, let alone Y/N too.

With a stab of desperation, he recalled the news of Elerrian’s death ten autumns ago, how he’d been unable to save her.

No, he pushed images of Y/N lying dead in the same position, her h/c hair soaked with blood as she lay face-down with a sword in her back. I won’t let the same thing happen to her.

Y/N met the Witch-King’s blade again, wincing as he pushed one of her swords out of her hands, slicing her flesh on the way. The cut was shallow, but it stung. Y/N tried to ignore the pain, lunging forwards and cutting at the Witch-King with a relentless rage. Authon, who had been previously occupied with some Orc, rushed forward to help her, but the Witch-King thrust out a hand and shoved him back without even concentrating on it, and the ellon let out a pained gasp as he landed hard. 

“Authon!” Y/N cried, sparing a few glances his way. But her distraction, in addition to the gashes all over her body, proved to be the last straw in an extensive haystack, and the Witch-King came at her again.

Strike after strike, Y/N tried to bar, but after a dozen, a particularly jarring attack made her arm useless. The elleth screamed as pain shot up her shoulder and through her body, and just as she suppressed the cry, another one was caused as his sword left a cut across her face. Unable to stop him, all Y/N could do was try to leap out of the way as his sword scythed through the air, mostly meeting its mark. 

Finally, the Witch-King had had enough of the stubborn elleth. He grabbed her injured arm, twisting it as she screamed, and plunged his sword straight through her stomach.

Y/N gasped as the weapon pierced her through, the white-hot pain so intense that tears rolled down her face as she let out another shriek. 

Thranduil whipped his head around, desperately trying to locate the source of what he somehow knew was Y/N’s cry. He plowed through Orc after Orc, his hair swinging as he moved in a fluid dance as quickly as he could. 

He found Authon and blanched when he realised they were the only Elves he could see. “Where is Y/N? She was meant to be with you!”

Authon’s eyes widened. “She was fighting the Witch-King, but he threw me aside. I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Y/N!” Thranduil yelled, panic bleeding into his voice. “Y/N!”

He saw the Witch-King of Angmar moving away, and his heart dropped. He ran as fast as he could to find where the Witch-King was walking from, not caring when his crown fell from his head, not caring as a sword bit into his arm in passing.

And then he saw her.

The h/c elleth lay on the dirt, blood pooling around her, and her e/c eyes were wide with pain. Thranduil fell to her side, pulling her head up into his lap and gently pushing aside her cloak to reveal …

“Oh, rhaich (curses), this is not good,” he cursed, looking at the hole in Y/N’s stomach that was quickly being obscured by her blood. 

“Th-Thranduil,” Y/N said weakly, coughing up a red mess. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, do not be sorry,” Thranduil insisted, pressing his hand against her wound and shivering at the wet blood already covering him. “This is not your fault.”

“No, I…” Y/N swallowed heavily. “I’m sorry for loving you.”

“What?” 

Y/N winced at the confused expression on her face. “I’m sorry for loving you. I know it’s wrong. I know Elerrian died only a few autumns ago. I know we only marry once. But could not stop myself from loving you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thranduil asked, letting a tear fall down his face. “Why?”

“I … I was afraid,” she managed to say, the ability to speak becoming more and more difficult now. “Of hurting you, of being brushed off, of making Elerrian become forgotten. I would never wish to dishonour her.”

“Oh, Y/N, you would never dishonour her,” Thranduil reassured you. “I know she would love you.” 

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he said next. “You know, when Legolas first brought you back to have dinner with us, I looked across the table and thought to myself ‘Valar, she is absolutely beautiful’. Then, I thought I saw Elerrian sitting next to you. She was crying, and she told me “I’ve been forgotten…”. I felt guilty, but when I next ‘saw’ her, she told me she wanted me to be happy more than anything, and that she saw how you loved Legolas and I just as much as she did.”

By this time, Y/N’s tears came not from her pain, but from her happiness. “Why didn’t we tell each other this earlier?”

Thranduil choked out a sad laugh as another tear fell from his eyes. “I don’t know, melleth nin (my love). I don’t know.”

Y/N reached up weakly, brushing her blood-stained fingers against Thranduil’s cheek, truely allowing herself to see how handsome he was for the first time. “May I ask one last favour of you?”

“Don’t talk like that-”

“Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?”

But Thranduil did as she asked, and, lying on a battlefield with him bent over her broken body, he felt her sigh against his lips, and then she was.

“No,” his voice cracked on the agonisingly tiny word, clutching at her cold hand and searching for a pulse. “No. No, no, no, no …”

But Y/N couldn’t hear him. She was gone already.

@aduialel​ thank you so much! i hope you enjoyed it!

everyone reading this PLEASE FEEL FREE TO REQUEST AND LIKE THIS IMAGINE! I LOVE YOUUUUUU

#thranduil #sad #thranduil x reader #x reader #the hobbit #you #submission

[fromiftowhen]

fic: i want your midnights (an Upstead secret santa one shot)

A little New Year’s Eve Upstead fic for the @chicagopd-secretsanta Secret Santa exchange! I got to write for @bleedinghearthalstead who prompted “New Year’s Eve in the emergency room.” I hope this is what you were looking for, and I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season! 

Rated T | 3300 words | Title from New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

“Hailey, I swear, this is a waste of time,” he groans. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, you look really good. Your knee is three times the size it’s supposed to be, Jay,” she says, gesturing to the ice pack barely covering his right knee.

“You don’t think I look good?” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a smirk, and she rolls her eyes.

“Shut up. Obviously, I think you look good, that’s why we’re in this situation.”

“Oh, I remember,” he grins, letting his eyes roam down her body and back up slowly. “But we’re gonna miss Kim’s New Year party.”

She nods. “She’ll have one next year. Maybe you’ll learn to keep your hands to yourself by then and we won’t end up sitting in the ER waiting for the ball to drop.”

“Excuse me, I'll learn to keep my hands to myself? Pretty sure you started it.”

She just rolls her eyes and adjusts the ice pack on his knee.

He watches her for a moment until she glances up and narrows her eyes at him. “What?”

He shakes his head, grinning. “You want to spend next New Year’s Eve with me,” he says, fighting to keep the laugh out of his voice.

“Shut up,” she says again, but there’s a tiny hint of a blush creeping across her cheeks. It’s the first New Year’s Eve they’ve spent together as a couple and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to Kim’s annual party, where he’d spent the last few years ringing in midnight with Hailey beside him.

This year, though, wouldn’t find him awkwardly swigging his beer to keep from reaching over and kissing her as the clock struck midnight. He’s not one for tradition or resolutions, doesn’t believe things magically change because the calendar flips over again.

This year, though. Well, her cheeks are still a little pink, and he’s finally gonna kiss her at midnight, hospital room and bad lighting and knee pain aside.

He just grins, and of course, she rolls her eyes again. “Try not to get any more stupid injuries this next year, and we’ll see about spending another New Year together.”

He finally lets himself laugh. “I’m sorry,” he says, incredulous. “Stupid injuries? You were a willing, enthusiastic participant.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit there, pal,” she mutters. “You can shower by yourself next New Year’s Eve.”

“I was trying to,” he laughs, cringing a little as he shifts, and his knee protests with sharp pain.

She frowns. “See, it does hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, but he lets her reach behind him and adjust his pillow so he doesn’t have to shift back too far in the bed.

Jay watches her pace the small hospital room, her arms crossed over her chest. She’s worried, and it’s honestly pretty damn cute.

“I’m sure you are,” she says, but it sounds like she’s just placating him. “I’m just saying, you made a very weird noise when you fell.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “That’s because I was about to--”

The automatic whir of the sliding door sounds and Will’s voice interrupts him.

“I’m all for a full medical history, but please, god, don’t finish that sentence,” he says, hugging a chart to his chest. He looks gleeful and Jay wants to punch him.

“Isn’t there some rule about not treating family members?” He asks, eyeing Will suspiciously.

Will rolls his eyes, and beside him, he watches Hailey try to hide a smirk.

“Hey, I don’t need you two ganging up on me right now. I’m injured here.” He’ll never admit it sounds like a whine.

“Sure,” Hailey says. “The doctor comes in and suddenly you’re injured. You were fine two seconds ago.”

“Don’t call him the doctor, please,” he groans. “He’s already gonna be insufferable.”

“They worry we might become too emotionally invested,” Will says, shrugging like it’s another rule he’s about to disregard. “Pretty sure that’s not gonna be a problem.” He grins, flipping open the chart.

“Any chance you can get us out of here by midnight?” Jay asks, watching Will’s smirk grow a little as he reads over the chart.

“Bro,” he groans, glancing back up. “I already pulled the only strings I have to get you back here without a long wait. No promises.”

“We’re good, Will,” Hailey says. “We can wait.” Her voice sounds pointed but her fingers on his shoulder are gentle.

“Thank you, Hailey,” Will says. “Seriously, Jay, the right knee. Again?”

He shrugs, but Hailey lets out a little choking noise next to him, and he turns to her.

“Again? This has happened before?”

He starts to shake his head, but Will cuts in. “Oh, yeah. What, you were 13 the first time? And then high school, and your first year on patrol?”

Hailey looks like she's going to lose her mind, and Jay tosses Will a look, silently begging him to shut up.

“Baseball, Hailey,” Jay tells her, trying not to laugh. “Rounding the bases the first time and sliding into home the second. And chasing an offender on patrol.”

She nods slowly. “Okay. That makes more sense.”

Jay watches Will glance between them and then down at the chart. “This just says you fell. What did it this time?”

He doesn't say anything, but he can see pink flares dance across Hailey's cheeks. His brother is an idiot, but he's not an idiot, and Jay watches him put the pieces together.

“Ah,” he nods, smirking, and Jay can hear the laughter trying to fight its way through. “Well, sounds like you were at least rounding the bases this time too.”

“Oh, my god,” Hailey whispers, running a hand down her face.

Will sets the chart down and lifts the ice pack on his knee, pressing lightly around the swelling. “One to ten?” He asks, glancing up as Jay tries and fails not to hiss.

“Two,” he says.

“And if your girlfriend wasn't two feet away?”

“I hate you,” he whispers. “Four. Maybe five,” he admits.

Will steps back, grinning. “You worship me. You're gonna be fine. Doesn't seem like anything's torn, but I want a scan to double-check.”

“You can't just--”

“No,” Will sighs. “I can't just wrap it or let you leave or whatever other malpractice you were about to suggest.”

Jay rolls his eyes, but nods. “Fine. But no--”

“No needles, we know,” Hailey and Will say together, and honestly, he's not sure when his idiot brother and his sarcastic girlfriend became BFFs, but he's not into it.

He grumbles out a thanks but smiles when Hailey's fingers tangle with his on the edge of the mattress.

“I'm gonna go order your scan. How's the pain, really? Need anything for it?” It's Will's concerned doctor voice, but it sounds a lot like his protective brother voice and something in him tugs with appreciation.

“I’m good, but thanks.”

Will smiles. “Okay. But don't be a hero, doofus,” he says, picking up the chart and heading for the door. “Someone will come to get you soon.”

He nods.

“Oh, and Jay?” Will’s caring brother voice is gone, and Jay steels himself.

“Next time, let the girl shower alone.” Jay shoots him a look because they hadn't said anything, but Will just grins.

“I see this way too often. Plus, both of you have wet hair and I'm pretty sure your shirt is on backward.”

“Jesus christ,” Hailey whispers.

“You good, Hailey? I don't see any visible injuries. Escaped unscathed?”

She nods, but Jay's pretty sure she might murder both of them if given the slightest chance.

Will laughs. “Good. Oh, to be young and stupid and in love.”

He rolls his eyes. “For the record, I was in the shower first. By myself. This is barely my fault,” he says, but Will just gives a sarcastic little wave as the door closes behind him.

The room quiets as Hailey's fingers tug at his collar, little sparks of heat lingering where she touches.

“He was right,” she groans. Her fingers trail down his arm and he smiles.

“Well, don't ever tell him that,” he says, leaning forward and reaching for his collar to tug the shirt over his head. He glances at her, her eyes tracking his movements as he's turning it around, and smirks.

“Yeah, you probably shouldn't look at me like that right now. That look is the reason we're sitting here,” he grins, pulling the shirt slowly back down his chest.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, smoothing back her ponytail. When she glances up, her smile doesn't reach her eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers. “I was joking.”

She nods. “I know.”

“C’mere,” he says, reaching out an arm for her and pulling her up onto the narrow mattress with him. “It was an accident, babe.”

She nods again, reaching up to thread their fingers together where his arm rests over her shoulder. “I am sorry, though.”

“I’m gonna need you to stop apologizing for surprising me in the shower,” he laughs, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Not ever gonna be mad about that.”

She laughs against his chest, and things feel like they're righting themselves again. He barely feels his knee.

“I'm not apologizing for that. That was fun,” she says. “Just. You know, the part where you fell.”

“Yeah, that wasn't the ending I was hoping for, but I'll survive. And still, not your fault.”

“Still,” she says. “I feel bad.”

“Gonna need that to stop, too. And I'm gonna be really mad if this keeps you from joining me in the shower in the future, just so we're clear.”

She rolls her eyes. “We'll see. Let's give you some time to heal first.”

He shrugs. “Not necessary.”

“Right, I forgot, you're fine,” she says. “I'll get you one of those shower chairs, maybe a handrail installed?

He wrinkles his nose slightly, shaking his head as he leans in to kiss her. “I mean, you can get me a shower chair if you're planning to--”

A knock sounds on the glass and he groans slightly when she pulls away as the door opens and a transporter with a wheelchair comes in.

“You must know someone,” he says. “Dr. Halstead had me skip you to the front of the line.”

“Aww,” Hailey says. “That’s a good brother.”

Jay laughs, shifting himself off the mattress and into the chair quickly. “That’s an annoyed brother,” he tells her. “He wants me out of here before I remind him how much I hate hospitals.”

She shifts so she’s more comfortable on the mattress where he was stretched out. “Yeah, I want you out of here too, I’m gonna stretch out for a bit.”

“What, too much exercise earlier?” He smirks as he’s wheeled out of the room.

“Bye, Jay,” she calls, and he watches her until she’s out of sight.

——————————

By the time he’s wheeled back in the room, it’s a little after 11PM, and Hailey is stretched out on the mattress on her phone.

“Go okay?” She asks, sitting up as he slides onto the mattress beside her, shifting to put his knee back up.

“‘Bout as good as anything in a hospital can,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss to her shoulder. “Think we’ll be out of here by midnight?”

She bites her lip. “I saw Will and April run by for a trauma a little while ago, so…”

“Probably not,” he fills in. “Oh well, good company at least,” he says, knocking his shoulder with hers.

“Mhmm,” she murmurs.

“You gonna make it to midnight, pal?” He asks quietly, watching her yawn.

She nods. “‘Course. I just didn't plan on being in bed before midnight. Got a little too relaxed.”

He winks. “I didn't plan on it either. Or, at least, not a hospital bed,” he grins, leaning over to press his lips to her cheek.

She lifts her lips in a small, easy smile and reaches for her phone when it lights up a moment later.

“Kim says hi,” she says. “And also, that you're an idiot.”

“Ouch,” he laughs. “Does she… know why I'm an idiot?”

She gives him a please look, raising her eyebrows. “Does anybody?”

“You're mean in the hospital,” he teases. “I like shower Hailey better, injuries and all.”

She rolls her eyes, holding out her phone to show him a picture of Kim, Kevin, and Adam, a ridiculously large box of fireworks in the frame.

“Oh, they are very drunk, that's a horrible idea,” he laughs. “Might wanna warn Will to look out for them later.”

“Warn Will about who?” Will asks, sneaking in through the still-open door.

“Our very drunk coworkers,” Hailey says. “Everything going okay out there?”

Will glances over his shoulder and Jay watches him closely as he turns back. It's not, he can see it on his face. But Will just smiles.

“It's New Year’s Eve, and it's still early, really. But look,” he sighs. “Radiology is backed up, it's gonna be a while before I can see your scans. Sorry, man.”

He shrugs. “I figured. Could be worse.”

Will nods, glancing at his watch. “Hey, we have a little tradition here at midnight. Give me like, half an hour and I'll come to get you.”

Jay nods. “Okay,” he says, a little unsure.

“Trust me, bro. And in the meantime, don't do anything stupid to injure yourself further. Hospital sex isn't that cool.”

“Okay, that's my limit of hearing the wrong Halstead brother discuss my sex life,” Hailey sighs.

Will points to himself, cocky grin in place, and Jay prepares to have to leverage himself up onto his bad knee to punch him.

“Wrong Halstead? I'm the right Halstead. Best Halstead,” he says, grinning.

“You know what, you both suck,” she says, and Will laughs as he leaves the room, which feels like a little bit of a win.

Jay leans into her when they're alone again, his chin on her shoulder. “I'm the best Halstead, right?”

“Ehhh,” she says, shrugging.

“Mean,” he whispers. She laughs, her shoulders shaking under his chin.

“Fine,” she laughs. “You’re the best Halstead for me.”

He presses his lips to her jaw slowly. “That feels like a cop-out, but I’m gonna take it.”

“Good,” she says. Her phone vibrates next to them again and she picks it up, stifling a laugh as she swipes it open.

“Five bucks one of them is missing an eyebrow on Monday,” she says, showing him a video Kim sent, fireworks blasting in the background, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Adam yelling over the music.

“If by one of them you mean Adam, that's a sucker's bet.”

“True,” she laughs. “How's the knee feel?”

He shifts back on the mattress, guiding his arm around her waist and bringing her back with him. “Once you've been shot, everything else is like an annoying paper cut,” he downplays, and her look tells him she knows he's full of it.

But she doesn't say anything, just settles in against him, yawning again.

“Sorry we're spending our first New Year’s Eve at the ER,” he whispers.

She shrugs. “Best New Year’s Eve I've spent in the ER.”

Something inside him clenches because it probably should have occurred to him. It's been years, but he knows she still carries the Booth stuff around with her, and he can still picture her face from that whole week so clearly, the anger and fear and determination.

He presses his lips to her temple and breathes slowly against her, in and out. He searches for something to say that won't be pointless or trite, but by the time he thinks he's found the words, her breathing has evened out against him and a quick glance down tells him she's dozed off.

His good knee is cramping a little where her thigh is resting over his, but he just smiles and lets her doze, letting her relaxed features ease him too.

——————————

He distracts himself with his phone and Hailey's quiet breathing in and out against him until a light knock sounds on the glass and Will sticks his head in the door.

“You annoy her to death finally?”

He rolls his eyes, but Will just smirks.

“Wanna wake her up?”

He pauses for a moment, considering. She looks relaxed and comfortable, and really, that's all he ever wants for her on the nights when sleep is hard to find.

And he wants to kiss her at midnight more than he'll admit, in the cheesiest way he can imagine, fireworks between them if not in the sky. But he knows he can kiss her whenever, and it'll be just as good then.

But a loud crash sounds in the hallway before he can make up his mind, and as Will turns to check on it, Hailey shifts against him, waking up.

“Hey,” he whispers quietly.

“Hey.” She runs a hand across her eyes, stretching her back slowly. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“You're good. Wanna get up and go with Will?”

She nods as Will turns back to them.

“And she's alive,” he says. “Maybe you're less annoying than I thought, Jay.”

“Doubtful,” Hailey says, sitting up. “Where are we going?”

“That's a surprise,” Will says, turning to wheel in a wheelchair.

“Dude, come on. At least get me some crutches.”

“Nope,” he says, Hailey's voice echoing right behind his. “Come on.”

——————————

“The roof, bro? This isn't gonna be like when I was seven and you tried to push me off, right?”

Will rolls his eyes, easing the wheelchair to a stop near the edge of the roof. “For the thousandth time, you slipped, Jay. Plus, Hailey would probably stop me.”

“Depends on the day.” Her voice is quiet and her fingers are pinpoints of heat against the back of his neck in the cold. “This is really nice, Will.”

And it is. There are lights strung and it's as quiet as the city gets on a night like this, traffic down below painting the night in red and gold moving lights.

“Figured if you have to be here, you may as well get the good view. Usually, there’s a little crowd, so you lucked out.”

They chat for a couple of minutes until Will's pager goes off and he groans quietly, glancing down at it.

Jay glances at his watch. 11:57.

“Gotta run. I'll call you when I see your scans,” he says, clapping Jay on the shoulder, shaking him a little. “Don't freeze to death up here please.”

“Happy New Year, man.”

Will grins, leaning in to give Hailey a quick hug. “You guys too. Seriously, though, no dying, this is probably against all kinds of rules. I don’t need that hassle.”

“Go, dude,” Jay says, laughing.

Will waves and heads back toward the roof access door and Hailey turns to him.

“I dunno, your brother might be my favorite Halstead right now.”

Jay just shakes his head. “Absolutely unacceptable,” he says, holding out his hand to bring her closer, pulling her down to sit on his good knee.

“Okay?” She asks quietly, settling in.

“Think I'll survive,” he whispers, his hands coming to rest on her waist. “You know, they say how you ring in the new year is how you spend the rest of the year.”

She bites her lip. “So, on a hospital roof, injured? Gotta say, not all that promising.”

He rolls his eyes. “Or, you know, together with me could work too. Maybe minus the injuries.”

She scrunches up her nose but grins. “That might be okay.”

He glances at his watch behind her back. “Yeah?”

“Could be better, probably,” she whispers, already leaning in.

His lips meet hers and he kisses her slowly, mentally counting down until he hears fireworks and cars honking below on the street.

When she pulls back, she’s smiling, and yeah, he could definitely spend the year exactly like this.

He thinks about pulling away, looking for fireworks in the night sky, but she leans back in and he closes his eyes, and he doesn’t need to look anywhere else to find them.

#cpd!ss2020 #my fic #upstead #upstead fic #chicago pd #chicago pd fic #jay halstead #hailey upton #will halstead

[kaitycole]

you broke me first (part 2)

Summary: You and Oikawa dated all three years of high school, that is until he broke up with you out of nowhere. Then three years later, you open the door of Iwaizumi’s apartment to find Oikawa there.

Word Count: 2825

Rating: Angst. Pinning. Mentions of anxiety. Talks of a break-up

Pairing: OIkawa x Female Reader (past tense), Iwaizumi x Female Reader

A/N: Fingers crossed I’m capturing these guys right lol I think maybe it’ll have one more part, I'm not sure. Let me know your thoughts though! 

Also, I’m thinking of having two different ending, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Song Choice: you broke me first by Tate McRae

Tag List: @yatoatyourservice​  

When Iwa finally gets back to his apartment, Oikawa is sprawled out on the floor on his phone. Shaking his head, he simply walks passed him, grabbing two beers from the fridge. He just knows he’s gonna need some.

“Oi. Here.”

Oikawa takes the beer, clinking it against Iwa’s before taking a sip. While the two of you were gone, Oikawa practically dissected all the posts on both your social media profiles. He came up empty, either you weren’t dating or weren’t making it public. It’s driving him crazy to not know, while he wasn’t expecting you to be here, he’d be lying if he said seeing you didn’t stir something up inside him. Didn’t make him rethink the last three years, comparing them to the three you spend together.

“How long as you in town?”

“A week.” He makes eye contact with Iwa, “But I’ll find somewhere else tomorrow.” Iwa shakes his head in protest, “Just stay in the spare room.” “Is Y/N okay with that?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow, trying to see how he react; but he’s stoic as usual.

He nods, “As long as you don’t act like shittykawa, I’m sure things will be fine.”

A few beers later and Iwa’s phone goes off, he excuses himself to take it. Oikawa leans back on the couch, trying to not think about you but failing.

------

It was just like every other day, an early chilly morning before school. You and Oikawa were sitting on a bench close to the school, he had just finished up a brief practice. He enjoyed this time with you, before the campus filled with tons of students especially his “fan club”.

“Oh, I brought you something!”

“Oh really? What is it, princess?” You pulled out a small bag and handed it to him: milk bread.

“Y/N, you’re the best. I love you.”

Your face turned bright pink.

“Oh, I…uhm…well, no, I love you.” He shrugs, “Wasn’t how I was planning on telling you.”

It made your heart skip, he had been planning on telling you that he loves you. And instead of some grand gesture or in some super overthought way, your dork of a boyfriend told you after getting milk break.

“You are such a dork.” You pulled him close and kissed him, “I love you too.”

There had been great days in Oikawa’s life; most of them included volleyball, but this day topped all of them. He draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“Say it again?”

Your face turned even redder, it extended to the tops of your ears, “I love you, Toru.”

Oikawa could’ve died right there and he’d have been a happy man. You and volleyball are all he needed in life and luckily, he wouldn’t have to choose one over the other, right?

Two years and three months later, he had to choose one and it wasn’t you.

------

Iwa comes back into the living room, “That was Y/N. She’s back at her dorm.”

“When did she start calling you Hajime?” His voice is full of regret and Iwa instantly picks up on it; his heart sinking.

“I’m not really sure, sometime during our first year here I think.”

“You two are together, aren’t you?” Oikawa asks, not really wanting to hear the answer. His eyes are closed and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Yeah. We are.” Iwa rubs the back of his neck, he never intended to keep this from his best friend.

“How long?”

“Three months.” There were several days within those months that Iwa had dialed Oikawa’s number just to hang up or not bring it up. He wanted to tell him, there was nothing keeping him from it other than himself; there was just some mental block.

“Guess you picked up all the piece, eh?” Oikawa stands up, chugging the beer on the table before grabbing his bag. He tries to think of where he can go because he can’t stay here. He doesn’t want to hear about how Iwa was there to catch you when he had left.

“It wasn’t like that. We…she didn’t even talk to me that summer or the first few months of school.” Iwa hates thinking about how you were back then, remembering just how broken you were when Oikawa left.

“Then enlighten me.”

“You broke her, shattered her, destroyed her.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “You were it for her and when you just left she fell apart. I honestly thought she didn’t come to university until we had a class together the second part of our first year.”

When Oikawa first left, Iwa assumed you’d need a few days to adjust, but it was after a few weeks that he tried reaching out. You ignored him. He eventually swung by your job at a local convenient store, only to find out that you had quit. When he went to see you at home, your mom had been the one to tell him of the break-up and that you had gone to stay with your aunt in Tokyo for the summer.

Iwa sits down, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. Oikawa drops his bag, he didn’t realize how hard the break-up had hit you. With him going abroad, he thought it’d be easier for you. Though it hadn’t been easier for him either.

“I felt horrible, she’d become my best friend through high school and there she was and I didn’t know the slightest thing about her anymore. So, I sat next to her, made study plans with her, invited her to meals; anything that I knew she’d agree to and not see as unnecessary like parties.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Iwa tells Oikawa about how you’d practically jump each time your phone went off, praying that it was Oikawa. How you flinched every time someone brought up volleyball or when people would eagerly ask you if you knew Oikawa when they learned where you went to high school. Or that you missed two days of classes when she learned he had injured his bad knee again and that it was almost a year later when you actually gave Iwa a sincere smile and laugh.

Iwa doesn’t look up Oikawa as he recounts the last few years; part of him want his best friend to feel guilty and miserable, but the other part of him feels guilty for wanting that. He recalls the time when you called him first to make plans that didn’t include the library, studying or a lecture.

He laughs, “You know she came in here about a year and a half ago now, randomly telling me she hated all my furniture and over the next four months, she had completely redecorated the apartment.” Oikawa smirks, that sounded just like you.

Oikawa continues listening to Iwa. Learning that it may have taken you a bit longer than expected, but you learned to be happy again. That a day came where you could hear his name again without cringing and how one random night you brought up a memory of the three of you out of the blue. Oikawa isn’t sure if the ache in his chest is still from hearing about how you were or from the proud smile Iwa sports talking about you.

He stands up, once again picking up his bag before nodding his head towards the hallway. “I’m beat.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Iwa stands up, motioning his friend towards the guest room.

In three separate beds lay three individuals, minds all filled with a mix of worries, regrets, and memories. In the room at the end of the hall is Iwa, trying to convince himself that laying in the middle of the bed will prevent him from missing you. It’s been months since he’s slept alone; even before an official relationship, you slept in his apartment. It started by innocently crashing on the couch after a long day to Iwa saying you could keep a few things in the spare room until the start of your third year of university, about six months ago, when you found yourself in Iwa’s bed, cuddled to his side.

It’s not until his head hits the pillow that he finally realizes why he couldn’t tell Oikawa about the two of you; he never wanted Oikawa to think he liked you during high school. He didn’t want his best friend to try to tear apart every memory, wondering if Iwa had ever tried to sabotage the two of you. He didn’t want him feeling that all his advice through your relationship was in hopes to break you two up. Because that wasn’t the case, although he couldn’t pin point when he had fallen for you, he knew without a doubt that he didn’t look or think about you in that way during your time with Oikawa. All Iwa wanted in the world was for you and Oikawa to be happy.

Just down the hall, Oikawa finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed thinking about what Iwa has just told him. He didn’t want to imagine you the broke mess he learned you had been, it’s what got him through the last three years. It was the immature reason why when he got on the plane, he didn’t glance back. He falls back on the bed, his face in his hands as he lets out a groan. This isn’t what he expected when he came to visit, he thought he and Iwa would hang out, talk about old times, and just have a good time; seeing his ex-girlfriend aka the only girl he’s ever loved was not part of his plans.

He doesn’t like that Iwa was the one who helped you get through the break-up. He doesn’t like that you were completely destroyed. He doesn’t like that three years ago he took the coward’s way out and broke up with you. Seeing you just brought up all the feelings he’d been burying for these last few years, reminding him of all the reasons why the two of you fit together so well and why he fell in love with you. And he definitely doesn’t like feeling like he’s too late because all he wants is to beg for you back. He groans again, wanting for just a moment that he could turn off his thoughts.

Across the city you’re in your college dorm room, laying on the uncomfortable twin mattress that creaks every time you roll over to adjust. Even when you move as slowly as possible, it squeaks and you feel awful for your roommate; even though she’s assured you that she can’t hear a thing. Tonight isn’t going how you originally planned, you woke up this morning thinking that you’d spend the night at Iwa’s, wake up early to him cooking breakfast and then rush to campus to work on your project. But with the slight turn of events, you probably won’t eat until lunch and be early to your group project.

There’s a pit in your stomach, thinking back to the moment you opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend standing there; looking way too good for someone that you wanted to hate. You smack your hands to your face letting out a low groan as your mind wanders. You have worked so hard to get over Oikawa; to be able to breathe and live again after he just left you. His sun-tanned skin, soft brown eyes, all have your stomach in knots and you don’t realize just how long you’ve been holding your breath until your phone vibrates.

Oikawa: You awake? (2:34 am)

Oikawa: It’s Oikawa Toru (2:34 am)

Oikawa: I’m so sorry if you’re sleeping (2:35 am)

Your stomach twists more, surely this was a coincidence and not the universe sending you a sign, right?

Y/N: Did you just send your ex a ‘you up’ text? (2:39 am)

Y/N: Classily Toru (2:39 am)

He sharply inhales, the use of his first name leaves him shocked. All night you had avoided his name altogether, going to the lengths of talking to the wooden table, but here you were using his first name. He has two favorite sounds: a volleyball smacking his hand and the way you say his name, especially his first name. You stare at the text, mentally kicking yourself for the slip up, but it felt comfortable.

Oikawa: I didn’t mean it like that (2:41 am)

Oikawa: Just wanted to talk (2:41 am)

Your hands shake as your thumbs hover over where the J and D are located. Could you? Could you just talk to Oikawa? Act as if he didn’t carelessly toss everything in the closest airport trashcan as he walked towards his gate three years ago? Could you talk to him like you did back when you first met and had become friends? Before you have time to type anything, it buzzes again in your hand and your chest constricts.

Oikawa: I know this is three years late (2:45 am)

Oikawa: And this won’t mean much at all (2:45 am)

Oikawa: Wait, I’m going to call. Hold on (2:46 am)

His hands start to sweat, feeling clammy as he tries to calm his nerves. You start to slightly panic before practically jumping out of bed and rushing into the bathroom. The light blinds you momentarily and the door clicks shut just as his name pops up on your screen, your phone buzzing repeatedly.

Taking one last breath you swipe the screen, putting your phone to your ear, “Hello?

He picks up on the shakiness of your voice, hoping his will sound more still, “Hey.”

Your stomach is all but completely knotted up as his voice fills your mind. It’s soft, like it usually was right before school in the early mornings or when he answered the phone right after he woke up. But you pick up on how it shakes just like yours, wondering what has him so nervous.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.”

“It’s…” he cuts you off.

“Wait, please let me get this all out.”

You nod, instantly realizing he can’t see you.

“An apology won’t ever be enough for what I did. What I put you through. But I am so sorry.”

Tears gently fall down your face, you wanted those words for years. Dreamed about hearing him call and apologize, saying that he made a mistake. Here you were, squatting on the floor in your dorm bathroom at nearly 3 am getting exactly what you wanted all those years ago, but is it what you need now?

“I know and I forgive Toru.” You feel winded, wondering if you really did forgive him. You know that you did, you had years ago because it was once you did that you started to feel better.

There’s a wide smile on his face, “Thank you, Y/N. Could we maybe get together? To just catch up, that is.”

“I have a project tomorrow, but I’m free Sunday.” You bite your lip nervously, but feel your stomach untwist only to fill with butterflies? Are you allowed to get butterflies with an ex? Maybe they were more like moths.

“Sunday. It’s a date then.” He catches his words just as they leave him, he leans against the wall feeling like an idiot. You were dating his best friend, he needed to word things more carefully, he didn’t want to come between you and Iwa.

“Yeah. A date.” You don’t think twice about the term, it was just an expression.

What you also didn’t think twice about is that the room Oikawa is in shares a wall with Iwa’s. The exact wall that Oikawa is leaning up against and the same Iwa who heard just enough of the conversation to feel heartbroken.

This was part of the reason when he tried telling you where Oikawa had been planning to stay, he didn’t correct your when you said girlfriend even though he knew that wasn’t correct. He was going to stay with his sister, but his nephew was sick and he didn’t want to risk it. The same way Iwa didn’t want to risk giving Oikawa an in with you. He trusts you, more than anything, but that doesn’t stop his insecurities from creeping in convincing him that he’s not worthy of anything; especially not someone like you.

When he asked you if you were still okay with dating him, it was more for him than you. He needed to know that he hadn’t been some last stitch way for you to hold onto Oikawa. That you had picked him for him, you had picked Iwaizumi Hajime and not Iwa-chan Oikawa’s best friend. And now at 3:10 am, those same insecurities wrap around him as he can’t help but wonder if your relationship is on stolen time.

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#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #hq oikawa #hq imagines #hq iwaizumi #hq x you #hq #hq reader insert #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #tw: angst #hq angst #tw: anxiety

[chuckbass-love]

Can I request reader and Henry Cavill, reader is decides to hide the fact she’s hurt herself while working out with him and when he comes back from being on set all day he finds her unable to move, she was scared to say what happen from a past experience with an ex🙏🏼 P.S: this happen to me a couple of years ago

 Hi love, first of all, i know you got my messages but just want to say again, i’m sorry this happened to you and i hope this can put a smile on your face as no one deserves to feel shitty or sad. Plus it’s Henry and i love him so i’m glad you picked him for this. Enjoy...

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warning: slight angst but mostly fluff.

Word Count: 1,767

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @supersweetstache go check them out 🥰

Nothing Like Your Last

You take a seat next to Henry, holding up his phone to film as he continues to work out, sweat glazing his forehead. 

He turns his head to look and smile at you, earning a giggle from you as he does so. One thing you’ve not necessarily noticed yourself but others have, the way he looks at you. Henry’s brothers say it’s that smitten look. The look of love. But you’ve not said those words yet so you always wave them off when they tease you.

You feel it though, love. Whenever you’re around him, it’s like nothing else matters or exists.

“You coming to join now?” he asks, standing up and putting the weights down, you smile and walk over, placing his phone on the side. Kal nudges at your leg, whining until you kneel down to give him fuss “such a good boy” you talk in a baby like voice to him, as if he’s going to talk back. Instead he just barks, his way of agreeing you guess.

You lie down on the floor in a sit up position, Henry puts some weight on your feet so you can properly execute a good 10 without flailing all over the place.

“So i was thinking we could chill tonight. Chinese takeaway, lord of the rings and all that” 

One of the many things you adore about Henry is his geeky side. He loves gaming and lord of the rings and it’s the cutest thing when he get’s excited about them.

“I’d love that”

With the 10 sit ups completed, he then sits down so you can help him do his own, obviously more than 10 but you only workout to keep fit. Whereas he does it because of filming and to bulk up.

Suddenly, you hear the phone ring in the other room “you gonna be okay here for a couple minutes?” he asks, resting his hand on your arm in a protective manor, waiting for you to give the go ahead. Which you do. He rushes out to go answer and you carry on.

You do some Russian twists, some push ups and a plank. All of your usual work out exercises. 

Just as you’re doing the last couple of Russian twists, you feel a huge shooting pain up your side. You wince and feel tears brimming but as soon as you hear Henry’s footsteps, you stand up and shake it off. 

“Shall we warm down and then shower?” you ask and he nods, you try to get through it without him noticing, thankfully he doesn’t.

Once you finish, you both head for the shower. He starts kissing you and being overly affectionate.

He’s away all day tomorrow filming so you won’t see him until really late, so he’s probably just making it up to you now. By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, he’ll be gone.

You shove on one of his rugby shirts, some knee high socks and panties before joining him in the kitchen for dinner. He ordered a Chinese as soon as you got out of the shower.

“Something smells good” the smell brings a huge grin to your face. Well, that and Henry standing there laying the table. 

It’s times like these where you picture a future with him, where every night is like this eventually and that thought fills your heart with the biggest amount of happiness.

You sit down, eating away as he tells you about how filming has been going for The Witcher season 2, hearing him talk about something he’s very passionate about is just another thing that makes you fall more. 

“So what time are you off out tomorrow?” you ask, shoving some chow mein into your mouth, not even caring how un lady like you look. Henry never complains so surely he doesn’t mind.

“I have to get up around 6 and i’ll be back around the 8 in the evening” you just continue to eat, humming in response “It’s just a couple of scenes tomorrow but the makeup and hair is a nightmare to get on and off but don’t worry, as soon as i get home. We have a couple of days to relax. Just me and you” he stands up to collect the plates and put them into the dishwasher, kissing your forehead as he walks past. 

The rest of the night is spent with cuddles, making out and a whole lot of laughs. 

Which is not unusual, you always find yourself laughing a lot with him, he knows exactly what to say and do to keep you feeling good and you’re the same with him.

You’re gonna find it hard to be away from him tomorrow but it’s just one full day right? It won’t be long until he’s back in your arms.

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

As you get out of bed and head to the kitchen for some breakfast, you spy a note on the counter. 

‘Good morning baby,

Obviously i had to leave early 

But i cannot wait to get back to you tonight

Lots of love

H x’

You smile at the note, your tummy full of butterflies as you go about making some breakfast and tea for yourself before settling down in front of the tv.

If there’s one thing to be said about Henry being away it’s that you can watch shows like Love Island and Dance Moms. He tried to get into them but failed. So you watch whenever he’s away. 

You finish with eating and stand up to go clean your mess up but when you reach up to the shelf for dishwasher stuff, a shooting pain rushes through your side. Making you wince like you did yesterday after hurting yourself during the workout. 

You never told Henry about it because you were embarrassed and worried that he’d laugh.

The memories of your last relationship come flooding in despite your best efforts to prevent it.

“Get up for god’s sake”

“I can’t, it hurts, i can’t move it” you protest, trying to defend yourself against his venomous words.

“I’m sure you do this on purpose you know, injure yourself to get out of housework”

You don’t, you’d never do that. 

You hurt yourself on a run with your friend Jules, but he doesn’t care about that right. He just cares that the dusting hasn’t been done, neither has the washing up.

“I’ll just put some ice on it for a couple hours, i should be fine soon”

“No, the dishes have been sitting there all day whilst i’ve been at work and you really think i’m gonna do them. I’ve had a stressful day as it is, don’t need you making it worse” 

“Okay, i’m coming. I’m sorry” you use the arm of the sofa to get up before you begin to limp and hop to the kitchen, ready to finish the housework.

He’s right. The last thing he needs is you making things more hectic for him. 

You soon wipe the tears that you didn’t even realise were falling from your eyes and go about sorting this pain in your side.

You rummage through the draws and cupboards, searching for any form of painkiller. As you pull open the last drawer, there they are. Paracetamol. 

You take 2 immediately and pray that it’ll magically go away soon or better yet, that it’ll go before Henry returns.

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

 “Honey, i’m home” he calls out before appearing in the doorway, a huge cheshire cat like grin plastering his face.

“I’ve missed you” you run up to him, he squeezes you tight, bringing the pain on again. 

“Ahhh” you whimper, clutching at your side like it’ll somehow bring the pain to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” he pulls away from you, lifting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. 

“It’s noth-”

“Come on, it’s clearly something” he walks you over to the sofa, sitting the two of you down and you lift your shirt up to point to your side.

“I think i pulled something yesterday during our workout” your voice laced with shame.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you shrug, but before you can even look away from him, his index fingers keeps your head in place, keeping your eyes on his.

“I don’t know. I guess i was just embarrassed”

“But why? I don’t get it”

“It’s just my ex used to pick on me whenever there was a slight sign of weakness. He’d make me feel like i was a dead weight, useless. He’d even go as far as to make it harder for me to heal and i just i don’t kn-”

“Hold on. Baby, you should know by now that i would never do any of that. You mean the world to me, if you’re hurt i want you to be able to tell me. Maybe that was his style but it’s certainly not mine”

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to assume the worst of you but i-” he cuts you off again.

“Don’t apologise. It’s my job now to prove to you that i’m nothing like your last, i’m always here to take care of you, make you feel good about yourself and this is one of those times where i need to take care of you. Let me go and get some ice for it. Wait here” he makes his way into the kitchen. 

You hear the freezer door open, along with the draws until a simple “there they are” comes from the kitchen, you giggle and seconds later, he re appears. 

He helps you lie down, placing the ice to your ribs area and handing you some more pain killers.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes, lowering his head to kiss your lips.

“Thank you” you mumble

“Don’t thank me. It’s my job to take care of you. If i plan to love you forever, then i might as well start as i mean to go on” your heart skips a beat as he says it.

That word.

Love.

“You love me?” 

You see his cheeks turn a little red, he looks down, chuckling.

“I do, but don’t worry, i won’t force you to say it-”

“I love you too”

He kisses you once again.

“Please don’t ever be scared to talk to me okay? Like i said, i love you, i want the best for you and i’m not here to hurt or upset you”

“What did i do to deserve you eh?” you both smile, forehead to forehead.

“I was about to say the same thing. But I guess we both got lucky”

“I guess we did”

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

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[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Look at my Son (Pre-Eragon)

Brom hunched his shoulders against the gust of snow flurries that tugged at his clothes as his horse clopped tiredly along. He knew he was getting close, could still feel the tiny threads of Selena’s energy leading to the small farm on the edge of Carvahall.

His stomach churned. Not only because he was hungry, but because he didn’t know what he was going to find when he reached his destination. Had the healers observations and Brom’s own hypothesis correct? He didn’t know if he wanted to be right or if he wanted to be wrong.

The Rider pulled his horse to a stop at the small house his spells were leading him to.

It wasn’t anything fancy. A simple homestead with a single story, a paddock next to the side porch. Brom could see a small patch of empty farmland behind the paddock, stubbled with the remains cut, dead stalks of grains poking up through the light layer of snow.

It looked like a home for a family.

Sighing, Brom leaned his forearms on the saddle’s pommel and examined the home, looking for some excuse to enter. He found a reason in one of the two work horses, a muscled bay, that had a pronounced limp.

Moments later found him knocking on the front door. His heart thumped in his chest. He had to play this along for a little while, then he could have the truth.

At the third knock a thin man opened the door. He looked at Brom with intense, dark eyes, then cocked an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Brom cleared his throat. “Ah, well, not to intrude, sir. I was passing by and saw that one of your horses has a quite a limp. Didn’t know if you were aware, and I just…”

The man sighed tiredly. “Yeah, I’m aware. Thank you.” He leaned out to look over at the bay as it lapped water from a trough. “Poor girl. I don’t have the money to replace her, but I don’t have the money to get her looked at either. I’ve been resting her since winter started, but nothing seems to work.”

“I might be able to help, if you don’t mind me working with her a bit.” Brom gestured to his own steed. “I’m a bit of a traveling storyteller, but I’ve picked up quite a few tricks for healing, especially where horses are involved. Can’t get anywhere with a lame animal.” He offered his hand. “My name is Brom.”

Out of instinct the other man shook his hand. “Garrow.” Then he paused. “I appreciate your offer, but as I said, we don’t have much money, and I’m not the sort of person to accept–”

Brom cut him off. “If you insist on paying me, I’d appreciate a hot meal and a porch to sleep on for the night.” He chuckled roughly. “I’m having a bit of money trouble myself. Don’t think I have enough for a room in town.”

Garrow rubbed his chin, obviously thinking it over. For a moment Brom was worried he would refuse again, but then a woman’s voice called from within the house, coming closer with each word. “Honey? Who is it?”

A woman appeared behind Garrow. Brom’s heart leapt to his throat when he saw a child balanced on her hip, but then he came to his senses. The boy was much too big to have been born in the last few months.

“This gentleman–Brom, was it?–Brom was offering to take a look at old Betty for us.”

“And you were going on about not accepting charity, weren’t you? Garrow, you are not going to let this opportunity slide after all the complaining you’ve done about Betty being lame. Let the poor man in!” She swatted her husband on the shoulder good naturedly. “I already heard his offer to trade. Brom, you are welcome to stay for dinner and sleep in our guest room if you can help our horse.”

Garrow chewed his lip for a moment as the woman went back into the house, the toddler on her hip staring back at the stranger at his door with wide gray eyes. “Fine, fine. You can let your horse into the paddock to feed. I’ll get my coat.”

~~~

With magic on his side, the horse’s leg was easy to fix.

To keep impressions up, Brom took to murmuring to the pained animal in the Ancient Language, weaving in his spells subtly as he checked each leg and gently manipulated muscle and bone. Garrow would occasionally ask how he was doing certain exercises, but mostly kept to himself, leanly corded arms wrapped in a well worn jacket and crossed on his thin chest.

After two hours of working with the horse, Brom managed to get Betty to put her full weight on her previously injured limb.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Garrow grunted. “You must be some kind of miracle worker.”

Brom brushed his hands off and gave the bay a pat on her thick shoulder. “No, no. Just had many years of experience. She’ll still need rest until it’s fully healed. I wouldn’t have her pulling anything until spring. These types of injuries can get worse and have a nasty habit of popping up again if pushed too early.” The farmer nodded, assuring the stranger that he would take his advice, and then, finally, invited Brom into his home.

~~~ “Marian!” Garrow called, hanging his coat on the rack beside the door. Instead of his wife, the child from before came tottering out of what Brom assumed was the kitchen. “Hey, big guy! Where’s your mommy, huh?” In one fell swoop, Garrow crouched down and lifted the little boy up into his arms.

The child giggled, reaching out for his father’s head with grasping fingers. Garrow humored him, letting him tug at his ears, as Brom followed the man’s example of hanging his coat. As if suddenly noticing the newcomer, the boy let go of Garrow’s ears and leaned over his shoulder, pointing with an exclamation of childish surprise. “Ah, right. Roran, this man here is Brom. He helped the horse get better.” Garrow looked back. “This is Roran, our son.”

Brom awkwardly waved. “Hello, Roran.”

Roran waved back vigorously. “‘Aye Bom!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Marian appeared in the doorway that Roran had come through, wiping her hands on her checkered waist apron. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose bun. “Supper will be ready in another hour or two. How did it go?”

“Brom here has magic hands, honey.” Garrow set Roran down, letting him toddle off, and clapped Brom on the shoulder. “Betty will actually walk on her leg now.”

Marian flashed Brom a warm smile. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much, Brom. Please, have a seat! I’ll get some tea for you both to warm up.”

Garrow led the other man to the living room and offered him a seat in a worn armchair. “I know it’s not exactly the cleanest place in the world, but it’s home.” Garrow apologized, hastily moving blocks, a baby’s play mat, and various toys away with his feet. “We had an unexpected new addition to the family a little while ago. Hard keeping up with two little ones.”

Brom’s heart skipped a beat as he accepted the offered chair. “Congratulations. Two children are quite a blessing.”

Garrow chuckled slightly as he sat across from him on the couch. “Ah, well. He’s not ours, really. He’s my sister’s boy, but she had to leave him with us. We love him as our own, though.”

A boy!

He had a son!

“That’s incredibly kind of you.”

Suddenly, a soft cry came from a room further in the house.

The farmer stood. “There he is. Excuse me.”

Brom nearly choked as Garrow disappeared down the hall. He had a son! A little boy! His heart bashed against his ribs as he realized that Garrow was likely going to return with the baby. He was about to see his son for the first time and he was the only person in the world who knew it. He braced his elbows on his knees, trying to calm himself.

Dear Gods, he had never been good with children. They were small, generally talked or cried a lot, stank, and were prone to all kinds of trouble. He never knew what way he was supposed to hold them, especially babies, and when they weren’t able to talk he was secretly terrified of not being able to help them or give them what they wanted.

Would he be able to handle even seeing the boy? What if he had to hold him? Stars above, he wanted to hold him, but at the same time what if he broke him? What if–

“Here’s the little man.” Brom started when Garrow spoke, gaze shooting up to see the farmer settling back onto the couch with a squirming bundle in his arms. “Sorry about the crying. It’s all they seem to do at this age.”

Brom cleared his throat, trying to fight past the lump he felt forming. He couldn’t see past the blankets. “No, it’s fine.”

Garrow gently bounced the child in his lanky arms, trying to soothe him. “Have any of your own?”

The question struck hard. “Ah, no. I’ve helped care for a few while traveling with troupes though.” Tentatively, as if he might be breaking some unspoken rule, Brom stood and approached the couch. “May I see him?”

“Yeah, yeah, sit. Shh shh shh, it’s okay, Unkie Garrow’s here.” Brom took the spot next to Garrow as gently as he could, his mind blocking out even the crying. He still couldn’t see him.

“Roran, what have you go– GARROW!” Marian’s flustered voice suddenly cut through the din. “Garrow, Roran got into your tools again and is about to smash a window with that silly hammer! My hands are full!”

“Shoot! Not again!” Garrow looked between the kitchen and the babe in his arms, clearly torn. His gaze settled on Brom as his wife again yelled for him. “Ah, here, can you maybe just–”

Before he even had time to answer Garrow transferred the warm bundle of blanket and baby to Brom’s arms and was out of the room.

Brom looked down, eyes wide and disbelieving. His arms began gently rocking the child of their own accord as a calm suddenly settled over his panicked mind.

The crying stopped.

And so did the rest of the world.

A pudgy face looked up at him from the bunched up blanket, slightly red from the screaming earlier, appearing a curious at the new face that gazed down.

Brom couldn’t breathe. Something welled up in his chest that wasn’t anything he had felt before. It felt like…pride. But that wasn’t it. It was something distinctly different but nameless, sending warm tingles across his entire body and forming a lump in his throat.

Then the baby gurgled and smiled up at him.

And Brom fell apart.

“Hi.” The Rider whispered, nearly choking on the word. He carefully used a finger to move more of the blanket away from the child’s face, almost scared to touch him. The babe gave him no choice, though, by reaching out with a chubby little hand and grasped the finger near his face with a vice like grip. Brom choked out a soft laugh, wiggling the trapped appendage. “Oh, look at you. Hi, little one.” The baby laughed back, and pulled the finger up to explore with his mouth. “Hey.”

“His name is Eragon.” Brom tore his eyes from his son as Marian entered with a tray of tea. She set it down on the table beside the couch and settled down next to her guest.

“Eragon?” The Rider felt the name bolt through his conscious. Such a weighty name for such a small thing. Selena had picked a name of power, of history and peace. The name that had started the Golden Era. “That’s a…a powerful name.” He looked back to the child in his arms. “He’s beautiful.”

Marian took a sip of her tea. “You’ve heard of it? Garrow’s sister seemed to know some history behind the name.”

“It’s a very special name.” Brom murmured, gently rocking the smiling Eragon. “He’ll grow up to be an exceptional young man with a name like that.” Unbidden, another smile split Brom’s face as he gazed on his son. “Won’t you, Eragon?”

“Do you want me to take him off your hands?”

Brom didn’t look away. “No…. No, we’re fine. I’ll see if I can get him to sleep.” Marian smiled at him, thanking him for a welcome break from stresses of taking care of a fussy baby while trying to get dinner ready, and returned to the kitchen.

“You’ll grow up to be strong, Eragon.” Brom whispered to the babe. In response, Eragon let go of his finger and reached out, touching the man’s bearded cheek. “You’ll blow the world away someday. I know it.” Bright blue eyes, not yet pigmented, gazed into the same tone of blue in the eyes of the man above him.

If only Selena could see them now.

~~~

That night, Brom slept in the guest room.

It was also Eragon’s room.

Whenever the babe became fussy, Brom would quietly and carefully lift him from from his crib, consumed with wonder at his little body, and would sit with Eragon on his chest. As the beat of his heart lulled the child back to sleep, Brom softly crooned to him in the Ancient Language, weaving the words to the age old cradle song from Kusta. He familiarized himself with the face of his son, gently touched his downy brown hair, and whispered the story of the first Dragon Rider, the story of his namesake, to him as he slept.

In the morning, as dawn edged into the window, Brom forced himself to come to terms with having to leave. His heart ached as he kissed Eragon on the brow once, placed him back in his crib, and gathered his belongings.

After a small breakfast, again cooked by Marian, Brom gave his sincere thanks to the family.

“If you ever come by again, be sure to look us up.” Garrow shook his hand. “I want to properly repay you.”

“You already have.” The Rider assured him. The warmth of meeting his son was slowly seeping away to be replaced this a deep ache with each step he took to the edge of the porch. “Thank you. And thank you, Marian, for the excellent meals. I have eaten at many courts in my travels, and your food has rivaled them all.”

The woman blushed and laughed. “Well, thank you!” She glanced back into the house. “If you come back, I’m sure Eragon and Roran would love to hear a story or two. Maybe you could tell Eragon about his name.”

“I promise I will. Your hospitality has been most kind.” Adopting the old Kustan bow, Brom bid his final goodbyes and mounted his horse. “Take care. Both your children are very special. Know that. I hope you folks have fortune smile on you.”

As he clicked the steed into a walk, a sleepy eyed Roran grabbed his mother’s leg and waved. “Bye-bye Bom!”

Brom didn’t look back. He didn’t want them to see him crying.

From then on, everything Brom did wasn’t just for the Varden, elves, dwarves, Alagaësia or vengeance. It was all for his son.

#Modern Inheritance #inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance stories #the cyclists #Ket's Modern Inheritance Cycle #Brom #baby eragon #Brom is a big softie for his son #garrow #Roran #Roran Littlehammer at this point #pre-eragon #yes yes it's a hamilton reference #ofc it is hamilton inspires a LOT of MIC #not so local man changes from pilie of spitting rage to doting distance dad #...babies are born with blue eyes right or am i crazy af #just...let brom have a bit of peace before eragon grows up enough to speak

[yandere-for-you]

I do not approve of this kind of thing in real life and if you think I do just because I write about it then that’s YOUR problem. For the rest. Enjoy and tell me what you think!

Also this is based on my other fanfiction Miraculous Life

Also everyone is aged up by 2 years in this.

Adrien would be very, very hard pressed to admit that he may be more like his Father then he or most people thought, trouble with emotions, a little unhinged, and somewhat possessive, as they say. But while Gabriel just doesn't bother with trying to show much emotion, Adrien learned, from a young age, how tried to show or to at least fake his, mainly from his mother. Who told him, though she understood him, most people wouldn't, she was good at that, understanding his father and him. Then she disappeared and everything just...he didn't really know how to explain it, but he felt grief, something he never really experience before now.

It took half of a year before he was finally done with being caged up in his house, so he started planning. It took some time but he did it, getting things sighed for school by sneaking them into his father's paper work and sneaking out to buy a few things for the new year. It was so easy to sneak out of the house, the three adults wouldn't suspect him of doing it. He was to good at acting like the quiet and 'never goes against his father' son. He was so close to getting to the school and then he met...

Her

Someone had slammed into him, knocking him over onto his front. Groaning, he sat up on his knees and turned to see who it was, only to freeze and his heart might have skipped a beat or two when he saw a gorgeous girl around his age, with dark midnight blue hair, but he couldn't see her eyes yet. She had fallen on her butt and was holding what looked like a cookie box from some bakery.

Getting up, he held out his hand to her, "Oh god, I'm so sorry!", when she opened her eyes, his breath hitched as he saw the most beautiful green/hazel eyes with flex of gold he ever saw.

Talking with her hand made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time, he couldn't really place it. It felt like he was connected to her in some way and he didn't ever want to let her go. After talking to her and berating himself for not getting her name, he found her hair clip, which he kept, promising to himself he would see her again and never let her go.

He got caught by his father's assistant, got into a yelling match with his father, and stormed up to his room. Stoneheart happened and he met Plagg, became Chat Noir, and became partners with Ladybug, who already seem familiar. Being Chat Noir helped him sneak out the next day for school then he got to meet her again and got the learn her name!

Her name was (Name) Dupain-Cheng and she became his, what he considers, closest friend. Yeah, Nino and Alya were cool, great people in fact, he like hanging out with them but (Name) was well (Name). She was sweet, nice, easy to fluster sometimes, funny, super down to earth, and wasn't afraid to stick up to Chloé or anyone. He also felt like she understood him, something he hadn't felt like a lot of people had in a long time, he didn't have to fake things around her.

Adrien always wondered if Father felt the same way about Mom, maybe. In a long ago memory, he vaguely remembers his father always clinging to her after she was at home, and especially if she had just come home, even if it was just to the store. Something she had refused to let anyone else do, his mom enjoyed shopping herself, always taking Adrien with her. He become a...well..shut in after his mom disappeared and he even shut himself away from his own son.

Being Chat Noir and partners with Ladybug was great, he was happy after so long of being locked away but then something happened that made him feel something that he thought he'd never had..

protectiveness

Ladybug took a hit from CopyCat meant for him and he sort of lost it, his partner had been okay but she had deep cuts from the villain's claws then he got a another shock when the next day (Name) had been injured in the same area that the heroine had been. When she hadn't said what injured her, it just made him become more over protective, he barely let her do anything, like carry her own books or bag, doing it for her which made her huff but she relented when he used The Eyes on her.

At night was when he really let his more animal side out, Plagg had explain to him the more he used his ring the more he would take on traits of a cat. Such as being territorial and possessive over things, which he had to control not jumping poor (Name) when ever he was around her but on nights where he was just him paroling, he wouldn't show mercy to anyone. Yeah, sure Ladybug could be the same way, throwing a punch and being violent but she would never permanently scar anyone like he does.

Like now, where he had taken care of a few bad people, they laid around the alleyway with probably broken bones and scars..one might have lost an eye. His claws dripped with their blood as he left them there and made his way, not home but to (Name)'s house. The hero carefully slipped through the hatch of her roof, he swore he saw something red flash away and hid somewhere but that could have been his eyes playing tricks on him because of the fairy lights that hung around her bed, the only light in the room. Chat kneeled at the foot of her bed, watching her as the lights reflected off her face, which was surrounded by her messy bed head, as she was sprawled out and lightly snoring away, with light drool dripping down her chin and even all that he thought she was prefect.

The tomcat was thanking everything that she was a heavy sleeper, and that the blood on his face and claws had dried, as he crawled over her. Chat leaned over and slowly pressed a kiss to her forehead then pressed one to the corner of her lips, but not wanted to push further than that. Quickly, he left back through the hatch and back to his house.

The day she said yes to being his girlfriend was one of the best day of his life but it didn't stop him from checking up on her at night. Ladybug got hurt, again, which made him lose it but he was able to get the bracelet were the akuma was. Only to be smacked with the realization that she was (Name) was Ladybug, when she came running back to the Zoo with the same injury from minutes before. He had to hold all of it back not to just grab her and hide her away from the world, she wouldn't like it and would fight him and he really didn't want that. So, he had his Princess promise that she'd be more careful, which she did, but it still didn't stop him from worrying.

Let it be clear, that when Adrien first met Lila Rossi, he didn't like her, he didn't hate her...at first. She was just annoying and her lies were garbage, the model grew up around better liars that were younger then her, and also, she couldn't stay out of his fucking space. Adrien was saved by his lovely princess, who was nearly choking on her drink, which gave him the opening to get away from the leech trying to attach itself to him and he quickly made sure she was okay then stuck to her side the whole time. He didn't miss the way Lila glared at (Name) with malice, which definitely switch him not liking her to hating her, very quickly. Then Volpina happened and that was....something but they didn't see that snake afterwards...what a shame..really.

How he found out his Father was Hawkmoth wasn't an accident, really. he knew something felt wrong after he was akumatized. So, after talking with him and leaving his office, he used his phone to connect to the cameras inside the man's office, and saw and heard everything, watching at he pressed buttons on the painting of his mother, causing a hole to open up in the floor under his father and lower him down. Then and there, Adrien decided he needed to know what this was about too, a feeling like he needed to know, so, he waited until the middle of the night and snuck down the stairs then had Plagg cut the cameras again as he snuck into the designer's officer.

He made his way over to the painting and quickly pressed the buttons he remembered, holding very still as the hole opened up beneath him, lowering him down then up, too somewhere full of white butterflies. Holding back a gasp, he realized very quickly that these weren't normal butterflies...

They were akumas.

Why would his father have akumas? Unless...his father was Hawkmoth?

Taking a deep breath, he left quickly back to his room so he could think somewhere, without getting caught. Adrien sat on his bed, with Plagg sitting on his shoulder, "Those were akumas, weren't they, Plagg?"

"Sorry to say, kid but yeah they are.

He leaned over, lacing his fingers together, thinking, "That would mean my father...."

The kwami pressed himself closer to his holder, "Yeah, looks like our hunch was right. So, are you gonna tell Ladybug?", that got the hero thinking, and it wasn't good thinking, he thought about him telling (Name), them confronting his fa-Hawkmoth, and his princess getting hurt, so hurt, she might not bounce back from it.

No,no,no,no, he won't let that happen.

"Kid? You okay there? You look like you're about to have a panic attack.", he snapped out of his spiraling thoughts to look at his kwami.

Adrien took another deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Yeah, Plagg, I'm fine but no, I'm not gonna tell her anything..yet. I'm gonna take care of it myself."

Plagg stared at him, then sighed, "Alright kid, but ask me if you need anything."

Who knew Plagg had a deep knowledge of colorless, odorless, and tasteless poisons that would make it seem his father had a heart attack. Of course, he had ask his kwami how he knew so much and he simply replied with, “My last holder was a scientist of some kind, so I picked up a few things.", he shrugged, like it was no big deal, Adrien didn't ask anything more.

It was so easy to sneak it into his father's morning coffee, it was slow attaching and since his father had been having a stressful week, it would simply look like a heart attack. After that was said and done, Adrien now stood on the stairs watching as the paramedics from the ambulance, that Nathalie had called, take Gabriel away on a stretcher with her going with him. His bodyguard placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked at him, making sure to seem as worried as possible, he patted his hand then removed as he walked up to his room, he'll get the Butterfly Miraculous later, after calling up his friends and his princess.

Later, his friends had left, after making sure the model was okay, but he had quietly begged (Name) to stay the night and after going back to get an over night bag and talking with her parents, who had been inform of what had happened, who were a little uncertain about it but gave in because they were worried about Adrien staying by himself. As he lays there, in their pjs, sitting on his couch as they watched a movie, with his head laying on her shoulder, he thought maybe he was more like his father then originally thought because if someone tried to take away the one he loves, he'll deal with them but unlike his father, he'll deal with them personally.

#yandere #ML #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #yandere chat noir #chat noir #reader insert #adrien agreste #Yandere Adrien

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette: Adventures at Camp-Halfblood

When Marinette arrived at camp at just six-years-old dressed in pink with pigtails in her hair and was shoved into Hermes cabin until she was claimed; most of the other campers hedged their bets on who her godly parent was.  She was a sweet girl with a cheerful deposition that could easily brighten anyone’s day. She also favored sketching and most artistic endeavors so half the campers thought Apollo was her father.

However, Marinette had an almost unnatural beauty to her that was clear from even her young age; with silky blue-ish black hair and large blue eyes that seemed to twinkle. There was a sheer adorableness to her that caused even the toughest of campers to coo. This caused some of the campers to assume Aphrodite was her mother.

 A few bet on Demeter as Marinette loved to bake. Some of Athena as how well organized and tactile the girl could be.

 Unfortunately, it would take a few years before anyone would get confirmation. And for bets to be paid out.

 As Marinette got older, she easily became the most well-liked camper; mostly because of the sweetest and kindest girl at camp. She was always there to help a friend in need, always there for someone to talk to. Hephaestus cabin liked how creative she was with her designs and always liked to offer an artistic flair to their own. While she didn’t rush towards battle as some campers did, it was clear Marinette still knew what to do with a sword. She was also creative and detailed when it came to planning attacks and defense which got her approval of the Athena cabin.

 Ares Cabin liked that she didn’t back down. Ever.  The first time Dionysus got her name wrong was legendary; it was also the last time.

 “You, mary-Anne!” The god of wine called. They were in the lunch hall “Announce to the rugrats, capture the flag is about to begin.”

 “Marinette,” The seven-year-old corrected politely with a smile on her face. “Marlene,” Dionysus waved her off.

Marinette just stared at the chubby god, her face emotionless. The hall seemed to grow a bit colder. Silence slowly took hold the campers as they watched a seven-year-old in a blue

polka-dotted sundress and pink ribbons in her hair stare down a god with unfeeling eyes as she assessed her opponent as if looking for a weakness.

 For the first time in a long time, Dionysus felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck as a small hint of fear started to turn in his stomach. And, to make matters worse, as if sensing this, his fear, a small smile appeared on the girl’s lovely face.

 “My name is Marinette,” Was all she said and turned around as skipped away.

 Dionysus nodded slowly, despite the girl not even looking. He swallowed a bit more of his coke and with a pop, he was gone, vanished. No one would see him at camp for two weeks. When he came back, from then on out, whenever he ran into the little girl again, he calls her some variation of “You girl,” “Girly” or even a “Lassie” once. It was clear that while the god was too proud to call her or anyone of the campers by their actual names, he would never mess up hers again.

 That day would forever remain in the hearts of the campers forever. When Marinette was eleven, she found out who her godly parent was.

She had been walking with Annabeth to the training yard, near the entrance of the camp, when they heard roars and a scream. Annabeth turned pale but a determined look appeared in her eyes. Marinette patted the blonde’s shoulder comfortingly. Though they were the same age, the blonde had arrived at camp a year after Marinette, and not under the best of circumstances. Grover,

Luka, Thalia, and Annabeth had been being chased by the most dangerous monsters from the underworld. Thalia hadn’t made it. It had been four years since.

 Each girl pulled out their swords, braced their shields, and raced towards the entrance of the camp. What they saw made both of them nearly throw up their breakfasts.

 Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, Laurel Victor, daughter of Nike, and Malcolm

 Pace, son of Athena were racing back to camp; different monsters hot on their tails. The three

 had been given a mission to retrieve Hephaestus’ stolen Helm. In this case, the helm was just a fancy word for solid gold, expertly carved, war helmet.

Laurel, easily the fastest girl at camp, was heavily injured and struggled with a wounded Malcolm to get to the safety of the camp borders while fending off the monsters. Charles, wearing his father’s helmet, fought valiantly and desperately to give his friends time to escape.

 “Go get help,” Marinette ordered the other girl. “Anyone you can. Find medics from Apollo cabin. Hurry.”

 It was a credit Annabeth that she didn’t hesitate to follow the direction as she raced off to seek allies.

 Marinette, on the other hand, raced the other way; out of the camp, out of the safety of the boundary line, straight to battle. She’d seen the manticore sneaking up on Charles and knew that between the Cyclopes and hellhounds swarming him, he was a dead man. Marinette rushed passed Laurel and Malcolm and was just in time as the manticore's tail moved to strike Charles, it hit Marinette’s shield.

 Fury filled her blue eyes as she began to fight: armor-less and with only a shield in one hand, a sword in the other, and a dagger on her hip, side by side with the son of Hephaestus. “Go!” She yelled at the other two demigods as she slashed at a Cyclops. As the monsters swarmed her and Charles, Marinette noted with a small bit of relief, that in the midst of the chaos of battle and her shoving her sword through the eye of a Cyclops with horrible breath, she spotted that Laurel and Malcolm crossing over the barrier.

 However, the relief died when a fearsome roar shook the very foundations of the camp and both campers to very cores.

 The creature had no legs and crawled on the ground like a snake. It was over 200 hundred feet long and had scales that glistened like armor. The monster moved like lightening and when Marinette met its eyes, for a moment she froze in sheer terror, “Drakon,” She whispered. That when she knew one or both of them were going to die. Only a child of Ares even had a remote chance of defeating it.

 “Shit,” Charles said as he killed a hellhound. Most of the monsters had been defeated. Only a few cyclopes and hellhounds remained. “Run back to camp!” He ordered. “Hurry! I’ll hold it off.”

Marinette didn’t have to even look at the black boy to know he wouldn’t stand a chance. Charles looked like he barely had enough strength left to lift his sword one more time. He was bleeding all over. He had so many injuries and wound Marinette wondered how he managed to keep himself upright.

 With a swing of her sword, Marinette finished off the last Cyclops. “Not this time,” She told the older boy. “You’re hurt really bad.” She told him. “It’ll kill you in seconds and get me before I even make it back. I’ll hold him off. I’m strong enough. I can do it.”

 “No!” Charles had started a tirade of protests. He wasn’t about to let anyone die for him, let alone a little kid who looked like she would be right at home if Disney suddenly named her one of their princesses. A girl who was nearly as battered, bruised, and bloody as he was.

 But Marinette wasn’t listening, because as soon as the moment of fear passed, she found herself charging at the Drakon, her sword ready.

 She barely dodged the monster’s first swipe at her. Her heart pounding her chest, Marinette slashes at the beast only to have her sword bounce off its scales, with not even a scratch on the Drakon. Acid dripped from its mouth burning holes into Marinette’s red shield.

 Marinette didn’t know how long she had been fighting; or rather dodging and helplessly poking a giant snake with a sword. Her arm had nearly been ripped off as she narrowly jumps out of the way of its teeth.

 Then a cry of pain sounded in her ear, and a sharp heartbreaking cry of someone screaming, “CHARLES!”

 Once more rage overtook the small bluenette and raced head on to Drakon, it’s jaws wide open to attack or possibly just eat the demigod. With a roar, Marinette launched her shield at its face. When the Drakon turned its head to bat it away, Marinette jumped forward as high as she could and rammed her sword into the Drakon’s eyes.

 The drakon reared back, letting out a terrifying shriek, sword still in its eyes as Marinette dangled from it; refusing to let go. With one hand free, Marinette pulled out her and stabbed it into the Drakon’s other eye. There was another howl of from the monster.  It swung back and

forth, but Marinette kept stabbing at its eyes. Its acid burning her arms and legs and whatever it managed to hit.

 Then, Marinette didn’t know what happened, but suddenly she was falling. Or rather the Drakon was crashing. It landed in a giant heap that caused the ground to shake. It withered on the ground, back and forth. Marinette who still clung to her sword, stood up on shaky legs, pulled

out her sword and then stabbed it again and then again as deep as it could go. Until the beast stop shaking until its last breath left its body.

 Marinette quickly pulled her sword free and turned to help her fellow demi-god Charles, only to find other campers had beat her to it. With a happy, exhausted smile, Marinette fell to her knees. The pain finally hitting her as the adrenaline wore off. Her sword slipped from her hand. She barely noticed most of the campers who turned up to help were staring at her with amazement in

their eyes. A few, who Marinette recognized as sons and daughter of Apollo, rushed towards with medical supplies.

 There was a loud, some fire in the corner of her eyes, murmurs from the crowd. There was a fiery symbol above her head, already a fading. Then Chiron (When had he arrived, Marinette wondered. She didn’t notice him a few seconds ago) stepped forward.

 “It is determined,” The centaur announced. “Hail, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of War.” That was when everything went dark for Marinette as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next few days after that were pretty much a wash. Marinette was mostly in and out of sleep as the worst of her injuries were healed. Only when she got out of the healer’s cabin and headed towards her bunk in the Hermes’ cabin did she finally recall that she had been claimed.

 Mostly because Luke had given her an easy smile, and said, “Clarisse and her goons got your stuff already, oh fearsome Drakon slayer.” Then he pointed down another path. “Your cabin’s that way with the rest of Big Red’s kids.”

And that was that. Luke gave her a pitying look and wondered how the girl most people thought was made of sugar cookies and sunshine ended up in the cabin known for the meanest kids.

Dressed in a baby blue camp shirt, her hair still in her signature pigtails, Marinette held her held high as she walked to her new home. The young girl had never… appreciated the aesthetics of Cabin 5 whenever she had to walk by it. The kids there weren’t the friendliest, some either ignored her or picked on her so she did her best to avoid it.

Cabin 5, Ares cabin, Marinette’s cabin was painted with an angry red color. The roof was covered barbed wire, and there was a stuffed boar's head centered above the doorway. It always used to seem to stare at anyone who walked by. The grass in front of the cabin was rich and green but Marinette made sure to stay on the path as she recalled Annabeth warning her about the landmines that were buried in front of cabin 5. Only Ares kids knew where they hid.

Rock music blared loudly from the cabin; high enough to hurt someone’s ears.

Marinette braced herself as she headed up the stone steps of the cabin. With one last look around, she pushed opened the door and walked inside.

The sound of fighting and arguing and roars of the laughter hit on in the face. Two guys were wrestling in the middle of the room was which look liked a boxing ring. A few kids were cheering them on. Some kids, her siblings, were dancing in a makeshift mosh pit to the music. There were rock posters covering the wall. A giant TV that seemed to be playing whatever violent sport was on and kids were screaming at it. Weapons were thrown about everywhere. The only bright side was, it looked like Cabin 5 had its own kitchen. Everything was chaos.

Clarisse, she spotted, was arm-wrestling a boy twice her size; Sherman Yang, Marinette remembered, the mean girl second in command. While his twin brother Mark watched, declaring he had winners.

This is it, Marinette thought, this is my life now.

           She took a deep breath and went over to the head of the Cabin; Clarisse.

“Hey! I got next!” Mark quickly said again.

“Good for you,” Marinette sniped at him      

Suddenly Clarisse slammed Sherman’s hand down and stood up victorious, “Yes, sucker! Who wants some?”

           Mark moved to speak but Marinette interrupted him, “Before your next… showdown? Where can I find my room, please?”

“Can it, squirt! I’m on a roll,” Clarisse said with a quick glance at her. Then the bigger girl stopped and did a double-take. “Well, well, well; if it is in Drakon-slayer herself.” She announced or rather yelled loudly. Causing heads to turn and the music to die down. “If I hadn’t seen the take-down myself, I’d never guessed that a dainty little thing like yourself would belong here.” She said the word dainty like it was dirty.

           Marinette lifted an eyebrow, “I get by. Larger opponents have a habit of overestimating their own abilities against us dainty little things. They tend to go down fast.”

           Clarisse just snorted, “We need to work on your trash talk.” She slapped Marinette on the back. “It’ll be good to have another girl around. To busy many boys stinking up the place.”

           That was when Marinette noticed that in the entire room, including herself, there were only five, maybe six girls, all various ages and races, in comparison to upwards of twenty guys. But it was clear that they were all related. They all had the same smug, mean expressions; the same authentic large builds, most even favored the goldish red-eye color that sort of looked like flames.

“Am I the shortest one here?” Marinette shouted angrily. “What the hell! No!”

           Sherman smirked, “Not the shortest. Billie just turned seven. And you’re like a foot taller than him… For now.”

           Marinette glared and took a step forward. Only to be pulled back by Clarisse, “Beat him up later, I’ll show you your room.”

           Turned out that there was another good thing about living in the Ares cabin. Since there were so few girls, she got her own room. It was a nicely sized, just a bit bigger than her room in Paris. The walls were black and grey. There was a surprisingly comfy queen-sized bed. But other than that there was nothing. Most of her stuff was already there waiting for her. Her things were a mix of pink, purples, and frills that stood out against the backdrop.

“We don’t usually get girly-girls in our cabin,” Clarisse shrugged. “A week ago, I’d have said you wouldn’t have last a day. Then you single-handedly took down a drakon; now I’m wondering if I should be worried about my spot as head of the cabin.”

           Marinette laughed, “No interest in running this cabin; too many boys.”

“You’ll get used to having brothers,” Clarisse leaned against the door. “Or at least to the smells. Sisters are easier. We stick together. We’re already thought of as weaker, and more delicate by the morons. Show ‘em who’s boss every chance you get.”

           Marinette nodded.

“Just keep the fighting in the house,” Clarisse warned. “Outside this cabin; we’re a unit. Us versus everyone else. And we play to win.”

           Living in Cabin 5 wasn’t as bad as Marinette thought. She had to quickly make some ‘touch this and I’ll annihilate you and dance your corpse’ rules; most of which was to keep her brothers out of her room. An unspoken rule was quickly established that if Marinette was wearing something really pretty; don’t with her mess with her; she played dirty. Ryan and Hunter, two of her more troublesome brothers, quickly learned when after fighting each in a mud pit decided to ruin Marinette’s new designed sunflower dress by throwing a few mud pies at her. The fury in the small girl’s eyes sent shivers through the rest of the cabin. The next day Ryan and Hunter woke up to their skin bright pink and glittering covering their rooms.

           Her brother Troy, a blond with red eyes, learned next. Marinette's new silk top ended up having to be thrown away. Troy woke up glued to the ceiling with hair dyed purple and his eyebrows gone.

           Then there was Chase and a cashmere sweater. Chase ended up tied in a room playing Disney princess movies on reruns for hours and hours. He didn’t speak for a week after.

           Kendall and Marinette’s new purse that somehow ended up on the roof of the Apollo cabin covered in mud and who knows what else. All of the stuff she had in it was missing and had to be located. He woke up in a giant seaweed wrap strapped to a spinning board. Marinette and three of his other sisters had knives in their hands. One of his sister, Megan, started to spin the board as Marinette threw the first knife, it landed next to his head.

           The last one was Blaise, the strongest, toughest, meanest of all Ares’ sons. He thought it was a good idea to throw Marinette in the lake, while she was wearing her newest outfit designed. She had spent weeks working on it. He laughed as she stared daggers at him, soaking wet. Blaise didn’t show up at the cabin that night.

           When he finally did, it was the next morning. He was covered in dirt, and he pointed an accusing finger at Marinette, “She buried me alive!”

That was when Clarisse decided it was time to sit Marinette down, “That’s not we fight.”

           Marinette crossed her arms, “You’re right. That’s how I go to war.” She huffed. “You told me to show them who’s boss.”

“Yeah; not traumatize them!”

“I feel like you’re splitting hairs.”

           Most of her siblings left her alone after that.

Marinette had also claimed dominion over the rarely used kitchen. She baked lots of treats that seemed to get even more of her rowdier brothers to let her be.

           On the downside, she did find herself against Annabeth in capture the flag again and again. The two girls, still best friends, slowly found themselves enjoying the rivalry.

           Marinette met her father a few months later.

           During the Christmas break, Marinette found herself visiting the camp while her parents went to China to visit a sick friend of her mother’s. She had known for weeks that she’d be spending her break there and had created the perfect dress for the winter solstice. It was a mix of silvers and golds that went just below her knees and had a lace bodice.  It was her first time getting to go Olympus during the winter solstice. She only ever went to the summer one since she only spent her summers at camp.

           She stood happily in her dress as she waited for Ares cabin to depart to meet the rest of the campers to leave to go to the city.

“Let’s be real here,” Marinette smiled sweetly to her brothers who eyed her wearily. “Ruin my dress and I’ll kill you all. As far as I’m concerned you’re all to blame, the one who does the crime will just get it the worst. Clear? Good.”

           Clarisse rolled her eyes. Trust her tough as nails brother to be scared to death of their smallest sister.

           Olympus was beautiful. It was a mix of white and with grand pillars and statues everywhere. All the campers had gotten mixed up as most as found their friends on the way there. Marinette stood with Annabeth and Will, from the Apollo cabin.

           The gods were quick to greet their kids, at least the ones that had been claimed. The ones who hadn’t been greet cheerfully by a bubbly Hermes, like they were his own. The kids who knew their godly parents went to go meet them. For the first time, Marinette looked around eagerly for her own godly parent for the first time.

           She found her siblings and glided through the crowd, passed Athena, where she lost Annabeth, passed Apollo, where she lost will, and nearly passed Aphrodite when a hand reached out and grabbed hers.

           Marinette looked up at the attached hand and found Aphrodite looking at her with a smile on her face.

“I believe you are one of mine, darling,” The goddess said. “And don’t you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

           The bluenette blushed, “Actually, my lady, I belong in another cabin.”

“Oh?” Aphrodite eyed the girl as she was confused. “Who’s cabin is that?” All the beautiful campers were hers.

“Mine!” A voice growled. Ares dressed in all black leather and wore black sunglasses, seemed to glare through them. “Let my girl go, babe! We’ll talk later.”

           The goddess of love eyed the beautiful Asian girl and the gruff warrior she knew and her mind just couldn’t compute. “She’s yours? Are you sure?” She asked but let the girl of the little girl’s hand.

           Ares snorted. “She killed a Drakon and she’s only eleven. She’s mine.”

           Marinette smiled softly at the goddess before rushing over to her brothers and sisters; listening gladly as Ares relayed some of his most recent battle stories. Unaware of the rather ridiculous image is made. A pretty little girl dressed in a silver and gold Christmas dress, surrounded by a leather-wearing, mean-faced, giant warrior that no question if someone told them they were a biker gang.

           Then it was Ares turned to listen as one by one his kids relayed the latest up and goings at camp; mostly their victories. A lot had stories about the pranks they pulled. When asked who the toughest and scariest person in their cabin was; there was the usual Clarisse, Sherman, Ryan, and Blaise but Ares was surprised to hear Marinette’s name drop a few times from his sons’ mouths.

“Powderpuff,” Ares growled towards his daughter who blinked wide innocent eyes at him. “I hear you’re tough. How do you fight dressed like all of that!” He waved at her outfit.

           Marinette crossed her arms and glared at her dad, “I don’t how. About as easy as you do dressed as Danny from Grease.”

           Silence.

           Ares and Marinette glared at each other; each willingly the other to break.

“Shit,” Clarisse whispered a curse.

           Sherman leaned toward his twin Mark, “Who are we betting on?”

           Mark shrugged, “I don’t know. Dad’s a god. But Marinette’s mean. Could go either way.”

           Ares chuckled and walked over to tower over his youngest daughter, “I ain’t your brothers. I don’t scare easily; no fear in my eyes.” He ruffled her hair. “And I don’t like frills.” Ares pulls a bit at lacy ribbons attached to his daughter’s sleeve. Unfortunately, no matter how well designed, with his strength the material ripped. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

           There gasps from her siblings.

           Marinette’s eyes slowly went from her sibling to her father.

“Can you kill a god?” Blaise asked Clarisse.

           Kendall shrugged, “Marinette’s about to find out.”

           A cold smirk appeared on Marinette’s face, “Fear! Why do people say that? In movies, when up against the bad guy? Say there not afraid to die? As if the matters. What does you being afraid have to do with anything?”

           Ares eyes his daughter curiously. He didn’t get the reaction he knew he’d have gotten if he did that to any of his other kids. For now, he let the matter drop as he decided to relay another of his war stories. Unaware of the blue eyes that would disappear from the room.

“Hey!” Ares shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Where’s my bike! Someone took my bike.”

           Clarisse looked around, ready to raise hell with her father and her siblings when she noticed, someone was missing. She took her a second to realize what happened. “Shit,” She whispered.

“What?” Sherman asked.

“Marinette’s missing,” Clarisse hissed.

“So?” The Asian boy shrugged, and then the words hit him. “…No. She wouldn’t.”

           Blaise, who overheard their conversation, shook his head, “She would. Marinette really liked that dress.”

“Who’d do what?” Ares growled. “You know who took my bike?”

           Clarisse sighed, hopefully, her dad didn’t kill her youngest sister, “I’ll give ya a hint; she really likes frills and you really pissed her off tonight.”

           Ares took off his glasses, and pits of fire looked out at his children, his eyes narrowed. “Marinette stole my bike?”

           Kendall nodded, “If you get to her quick enough; you might be able to stop her from painting it pink.”

“…She wouldn’t,” The god of war said darkly. There were multiple snorts from his children.

           Clarisse pinched her nose, “Does anyone know how long she’s been gone. Anything more than an hour, and that bike’s history. There will be care bears from threatening.”

           No one answered.

           Ares growled and with a pop, he was gone.

           He showed back up a couple of hours later; still no bike and look positively furious. The other gods, particularly Hephaestus, looked beyond amused. Word had spread that the Princess of Ares’ cabin, Ares’ own daughter, had stolen his bike and ran off. All because of a ripped ribbon on her dress.

           Aphrodite nodded approvingly; it was a rather stunning dress, she’d of raised Tartarus herself over it.

           When the campers returned to camp, the Ares’ cabin members came to find Marinette waiting on the bike in the middle of the boxing ring.

“Who wants to go for a ride?”

           Everyone did. They all cheered as one by one, or two by two, they rode the bike around camp.

           The next morning at breakfast, Marinette was eating with Annabeth with the door flew opened and Ares stomped in. He glared at his daughter, “BIKE. NOW!”

           Marinette placed down her toast, “I want a new dress first.” She glared at her dad.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” He towered over her.

           Marinette blinked, not a drop of fear in her, “It’s not. Until I get a replacement dress for the one you ruined. You don’t get your bike. And you’ll never find it without me.”

“Marinette!” Ares roared.

“DAD!” Marinette yelled back.

           The campers could only watch as the strangest scene to ever hit Camp half-blood played out in front of them.

“I! You! GRR!” Ares howled before stumped away.

           It took a week and three more public confrontations for Ares to finally give in and ask Aphrodite to get his daughter a dress.

“Here, princess!” he shoved it at her.

           Marinette nodded, left the lunch hall, and returned with the bike; same as it ever was, apart from the red bow ribbons attached to it.

           Ares scoffed at the sighted, nodded at his daughter and was gone. He’d return two days later to hang out with his kids in their cabin. His bike parked out in front; a single red ribbon still tied a handlebar.

           From then on the campers knew one thing…

           Never mess with the Princess of War.

           Almost two years later, after thirteen-year-old Marinette would receive a pair of earrings and new destiny, all of Paris would learn the same lesson.

#ml fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #ares #clarisse la rue

[writers-blogck]

A Pity Party for One ( Sugawara Koushi x Reader )

Warning(s): This includes a lot of cursing and alcohol use. Characters are assumed to be aged up to past the legal drinking age. Did I get the inspiration to write this after listening to Michael in the Bathroom for the tenth time in a row? The world may never know.

Title: A Pity Party for One Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x Reader Fandom: Haikyuu! Word Count: 1,798

       Mascara? A mess.

       Drink? Empty.

       Mental State? Terrible.

       Hotel? Trivago.

       You tossed your red solo cup against the tiled wall of the bathtub that you had claimed as your current residency. Whose house was this anyway? You think the guy had a man bun but you could have been wrong. Everything was a blur other than the image of your boyfriend feeling up another girl. How could he just throw three years away, three goddamn years?! A choked sob slipped past your lips as you pulled your knees closer to your chest.

       How had you gotten yourself in this situation? Here you were, in a stranger's empty tub having a mental breakdown. Converse sneakers and pastel pink dress bunched at your waist. Even without looking in the mirror, you knew that your makeup was a mess. It would only make sense with how much you had cried. You had no plan for what you should do. Everything just hurt and you were wishing you were home under your covers instead of this porcelain bed. All your tears had been shed and you were left with small whimpers and clenched fists.

       "Oh...I didn't know that anyone was in here. The door was unlocked and I was just planning on washing up a bit and-" A boy with light brown hair that seemed to be tinted with silver when it hit the light right walked in your hiding place. It wasn't like you had locked the door, you probably should have. You had simply slammed the door behind you and that had been enough notice for the people around you. How long had you been in here? Your phone had died an hour ago when you arrived at the party. You were just on life's shitlist today!

       "It is utter bullshit!" You huffed out, not seeming to care that this guy you had never met before just walked in the bathroom where you were hiding. It wasn't like you were using the restroom but you knew that you looked like a hot mess right now. Damn, you might not even look hot and instead just look like a mess. How was that fair? Groaning, you leaned your head back and hit it against the cold wall.

       "Whoa...You look like you have had better nights." The guy slowly walked in, shutting the door behind him. If you weren't drunk out of your mind and hurting like you never had before, then you might have been scared about being in this room with this guy alone. He could lock the door and then who knows what could happen. Still, that was the last thing on your mind.  

       The boy was wearing a dusty blue shirt with what looked to be khaki pants. Average, normal, safe. He didn't have any immediate red flags that you seemed to attract. Did you just give off the vibe of someone who could be walked over? God, maybe you were. How had you been so stupid for three years...This wasn't the first time. You had a suspicion but you didn't want it to be true. You had been with this boy since high school and the idea of having to live without him was terrifying. You had become dependent on him. God, what were you going to do? How were you going to get home?!

       Red sneakers moved closer and soon the boy who looked to be around your age was squatting next to the tub. His arms rested on the cool porcelain, something that had felt wonderful against your hot skin when you first got in. You couldn't help it, you got hot when you drank too much. Normally you would just sip on whatever you were having that night but once you saw your world crumbling in front of you, you decided it was time to just down the entire thing as fast as possible. The faster it got in you, the faster the hurt would go away. You hoped anyway...

       "I just want to go home!" You whimpered, hands gripping at the itchy fabric of your dress. He had been the one to suggest you wear it, he said that he liked how it 'hugged your curves'. So, being a nice girlfriend, you decided to wear it and what does he go and do?! Feel up some girl that you had never even seen before! Had you not been enough? How long had he been cheating on you? Was this the only girl or did he have multiple women he went to so he could get his rocks off? Your head was spinning with the alcohol affecting your system. You were drunk.

       "Okay," His voice was soft, like he was approaching an injured animal and didn't want to scare it off, "How did you get here? Can I go get someone for you or is there someone I can call?"

       Watery eyes met his warm ones and it was the first time you had made eye contact with this stranger. You wouldn't lie, he was very attractive. In that soft but strong way. The kind of soft where he wouldn't let anyone walk over him. You had thought that was you but you had three years of experience to prove otherwise. You must have been a pitiful sight to see if his expression was anything to go off of. Why did he care? It wasn't like either of you knew each other. You weren't used to people being nice just to be nice. Was he an angel? He sure looked like he could be one. You wondered what he looked like under his shirt with how it accentuated his muscles...Oh, God! Your cheeks only reddened even more at your thoughts. What kind of drunk were you?! You never would think that way...At least, you would never tell anyone you thought those things. Luckily you still had enough control of your lips to keep yourself from saying anything too embarrassing, for now.

       "My ride is out there with his hand under some other girl's shirt. Fuck, I have to go home with him. I live with him and I just saw him...." You buried your head in your knees, in a mix of wanting to hide your misery filled face and wanting the bright lights to just tone down for a bit. They seemed brighter than normal bathroom lights...What were you even talking about? It wasn't like every bathroom had the same lights. Even with your brain trying to distract you with these unusual thoughts, you couldn't get the image of your boyfriend out of your head. The two of you had even been talking about marriage recently. His mother seemed so happy with the two of you...What would she think if she knew what her son was really like?

       "Three years and this is how he treats me...I think I am just cursed with bad luck or something. God doesn't want me to have a good relationship. I've wasted three years with this guy and...."

       "Don't talk like that. Sometimes we have to go through tough times to get out on the other side. You know, you have to have rain to have a rainbow." The boy brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear and you were convinced that he was your guardian angel. Why else would he be this nice and so helpful to a drunk girl he didn't know, crying in the bathroom for who knows how long.

       Sugawara bit his bottom lip gently in thought, unsure of what he should do in this situation? He knew he was good at helping people (according to the team anyway), but he had never dealt with something like this before. He was glad he decided not to drink tonight or else he would be having a harder time with this. All he had to do was think clearly and he surely would come up with some plan, right?

       "Well...I can always drive you home or we could go find the people throwing the party. Asahi and Tanaka might be able to think of something. More likely Asahi since Tanaka might be a bottle in already..." He mumbled the last part mainly to himself but your ears perked up at the familiar name.

       "....Tanaka?" Your voice was quiet as you glanced up at the handsome boy, causing his heart to skip a beat. Why did people's eyes always look so pretty after they had cried? That wasn't fair. He wished he could help more but he simply nodded at your strange question.

       "I know him," You rubbed the back of your hand against your eyes, not even thinking about the black smudges that were only getting worse on your skin. You were disheveled with makeup smudged more than an abstract painting and a dress with a recent stain that Sugawara would assume was whatever you had in your plastic cup before it was empty. Yet, he couldn't help himself and thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. If he saw your ex.....He pushed those thoughts to the side. He could think of that in the future.

       "He is our friend...I mean, my friend...He is in some of the same classes as me."

       "Great!" Relief washed over the young boy as he realized that he wouldn't be left in the dark on what to do with the situation at hand. "How about we go and get you some water and then we go look for Tanaka? I'm sure we can find him, he lives here after all. We can get you feeling a bit better and then we can figure out what to do from there, okay?"

       "That sounds nice...I don't drink normally, I don't like it."

       "Don't worry. Once we get you some water and ibuprofen, then you will start feeling better. Who knows, I'm sure he has something to eat here. Nishinoya and Tanaka tend to keep the place stocked to the brim when it comes to parties. I bet they keep the pantry that filled even when they weren't planning a party. Those guys could eat an entire banquet themselves and still be ready for seconds."

       Sugawara smiled as he heard the soft sounds of your laugh echo in the small bathroom. He hoped he would be able to hear it more, even if only for a little bit. He may only know you for this day but he still wanted to see you smile. Tears and a frown didn't suit your beautiful face.

       As the man offered his hand, you had no idea that it would be the hand that you would be holding for years to come. It would be the hand that gave you what you always dreamed of - a wedding ring.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haitober #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu! imagines #sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara imagines #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi imagines #reader insert #xreader #xreader-insert #reader #x reader #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (7/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: I was busy with fic exchange pieces for a while but will be focusing on updating my multi chapter fics now. As always, feedback is very much appreciated :D

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 8

Link to cross-postings: AO3

“So you’re Levi Ackerman?” The woman who had just entered the room looked excited. Too excited.

After being kept waiting that long, Levi was in no mood for anything, especially unnecessary pleasantries. For the past thirty minutes at least, he had been sitting on the couch of a quaint office. It was spacious and there was at least enough room on the couch to elevate his knee comfortably. Probably the reason he had the self control to give a curt nod in reply.

“I’m a fan! I watched a few of your events actually and I’m so glad to have you here,” she said too enthusiastically. She paused for a second and shook her head. “No, I’m horrified about you being injured which caused you to end up here but I’m just really excited to get to know you.”

Levi didn’t feel the need to reply.

She walked to her desk and dropped her canvas bag before sitting on the couch in front of Levi. “Sorry for being a little late. I just came out from another meeting and went out to get something to eat after. Maybe I could give you my number and you could text me if you get here before I do.” She took a post-it out of her purse and scrawled a few numbers on it and slid it towards Levi.

Shouldn’t you have my number? Somehow it was hard to believe that she was a counselor. “Name?” Levi asked.

“Shela. Just call me Shela.”

Levi had met those types of people before who go by nicknames. More often than not, he couldn’t blame them, usually they had a very old fashioned or embarrassing name behind it. He couldn’t believe someone as transparent or excitable as her who didn’t look like she had much control of her filter, would have issues about how embarrassing a name was though.

“I have a very old fashioned first name.” Shela added, only confirming Levi’s suspicions. “Shela… Sierra - Hotel - Echo - Lima - Alpha.”

Levi typed the name on his phone and saved the number.

Last Name? Academic History? He set the rest of the details aside. As long as he knew her name, he could probably get through enough sessions to at least keep both his coach and Erwin satisfied. Going to a counselor was not his idea after all. It was his coach apparently who had requested it and it was Erwin who had pushed for it. Without twice a day training or even the freedom to go wherever he wanted without being completely exhausted within hours, Levi had not much of anything else to do anyway.

Shela brought out a notebook from her purse, opened it to a bookmark paged and wrote something on it before looking up at him. Levi couldn’t help but note that when she wasn’t looking ashamed or overly enthusiastic and she did look like she knew what she was doing.

“I’m going to skip the question of ‘what brings you here’ because I think we all know why you’re here.” She gestured her pen towards Levi’s leg. “Let’s start with something simple. How are you? How are you feeling today?”

“My knee hurts and I can’t train anymore. But I’m focusing on studies now so I think I’m doing okay.” He answered, having prepared that script in his head the thirty minutes he spent waiting for her.

“I’m not asking how you’re coping. I’m asking how you’re feeling today.” Shela’s piercing eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. The serious look she gave him then bore into him. In fact, it felt like it bore into his soul.

Despite the generally bad first impression she gave him, Levi was somehow convinced that she was qualified to do that type of work and his showing up there might turn out to be worth something after all. Levi found himself almost hypnotized by that look she gave him, a healthy mixture of concern, interest and professionalism.

Hiding and watching his words felt pointless and Levi found himself saying his answers as his brain came up with them.

                                   A Tale of Two Slaves

The hospital where he was slated to have his next sessions was that same hospital he had stayed in a week ago. Conveniently, it was a five minute walk from where he had been staying since he got out of the hospital: Hange’s apartment.

Just until I can walk up stairs. Levi had told himself. There were many dormitories clustered around campus yet he had ended up staying in the least handicap friendly one. The first floor had a lobby and a common room and the actual bedrooms were only found at the second floor and the third floor. To top it all off, there was no elevator. He had to note though that it was an old building with only three floors so it would have been useless to put one.

He was on scholarship and it was assigned to him back in first year so he did not have much of a choice. He didn’t need to think too much of it either that past three years of college since he had never been injured enough to the point of being unable to climb stairs

With his leg completely immobilized and a deadweight, Levi was sure it would be a nightmare to brave that everyday. The paperwork and legwork required to change dormitories in the middle of the semester seemed daunting as well. In the end, Hange had offered to let him stay over in her apartment.

Her condominium was spacious, it had an elevator and it was walking distance from the hospital where he’d have both his counseling and physical therapy sessions.

Walking Distance. For non handicapped people, it should only take five minutes to walk the two block distance from the hospital to the apartment building. Levi took ten minutes to clear it and by the end of it he was exhausted and despite the chill of mid autumn, Levi found himself sweating as he arrived in the apartment.

It was a Friday afternoon, a week after he was released from the hospital. Nobody was pressuring him to go back to school yet. His professors had been kind enough to send him lecture slides and give him extensions. Some classmates had dropped their own summarized notes and get-well messages.

Levi settled on his bed and propped his knee on his pillow, looking through the lecture slides of his last class. Despite his self imposed week long isolation, Levi just wanted to go back to normal life.

But it never will be normal again. Although Levi did see a glimmer of hope in the possibility of feeling normal again when he went back to school, the realist in him knew it wouldn't happen.

Levi was supposed to be in the process of accepting at least that it would never be the “normal” he used to have and had taken for granted. Something inside him was rebelling the process though.

If I can't live the life I want, then I won't live at all. That something screamed inside him.

That form of rebellion left Levi with little energy for anything else. His mind was slower. His body was heavier. He was seeing little reason to move beyond the mechanical and primal movements needed to survive.

As if by magic, his body that used to carry him over two meter tall bars, suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. The weight crushed him everyday. At times Levi found himself unable to breathe. That was he found himself in that same position for sixteen hours a day, either sleeping or staring at the same white ceiling above him.

In fact, the only time he had left the Hange's apartment was for that one counseling session Hange had prodded him to go to. That was the only time she had forced him to go out of the house as if she herself understood somehow the comfort and at the same time the panic that came with a self imposed isolation.

What else was there to do?

He was alone. He had kept to his own bubble in college, only flitting between the two islands of academics and trainings.He was always either busy or exhausted and the lack of in-between had given him little time to reflect on the state of his mental health. And suddenly he had lost one of his islands, the bigger one, the one that had given him meaning the past few years. That had left him completely and utterly lost. Maybe even desolate.

That was what Shela had pointed out in their first counseling session as Levi attempted to articulate the emptiness inside him, the slight panic that came with idleness, the sudden need to turn off all message notifications and the frequent mood changes that came with Hange's entering and exiting the apartment.

And his weird dependence on Hange.

In between studying for his three subjects that semester and icing his bum knee, what else was there to do? Wait for Hange to come home? Talk to her during that one to two hour window when she wasn't working on her thesis? That was what his life had ended up revolving around anyway.

Levi found himself only replying to anything related to studies or graduating. He had received a few messages from others, suggestions to visit training, offers to visit from teammates and he had ignored them all. Somehow, the reminder of the loss of the one hobby that had kept him busy for the past decade of his life, was mocking. He became someone who waits, someone who just went with the flow of everyone's schedule. Having been busy his whole life, having been constantly needed and looked for and only recently, having been reduced to where he was, Levi felt his life was just a series of wrong choices, wrong choices that only formed a distrust with himself and consequently a refusal to engage in activity.

What else am I supposed to be doing? Levi opened his laptop. For a moment he had tried to go through his school notes at Shela’s advice.

After less than an hour of halfheartedly reviewing his notes and forgetting it soon after, Levi had exhausted his already scarce energy. With nothing else to do, he had decided to move to scrolling through timelines which displayed little to no signs of real life obligations, pinterest and reddit to pass the time. Within an hour of just scrolling through both, he had gotten tired of it too. It was a new feeling. Usually he could drown himself in hours of social media and timelines but at that point, nothing was interesting to him anymore.

Have you tried writing out how you feel? Shela’s suggestion echoed in his head. Like maybe get a journal. It’s a great way to process your thoughts and emotions.

What’s there to write. Levi asked himself and Shela’s voice as it echoed in his head. Levi could only stare at the blank screen, his emotions too non-existent to write. The blank document he had opened in front of him was the best representation of his thoughts and emotions already.

There are no right or wrong answers. Shela had brought up another good point during their session.

You think, therefore you are. You feel therefore you are. As long as you’re processing images, sounds and sensations, you’re thinking. You’re feeling something and you can write something down.

Then why do I feel so empty? Levi had asked.

Shela had compared it to a false bottom. As he continued to stare at the blank page in front of him, Levi was starting to feel for that false bottom in his mind. It was a matter of discipline more than anything, determination to dig into one’s self.

It could have taken hours but as Levi looked at the time on his laptop, he realized much time hadn’t passed. In fact, the time to the lower right of his screen, was still the same. But Levi was starting to think differently.

He did have something to look back on. Stories he hadn’t thought back to in a while, having been occupied by training, Hange’s tests, studies and recoveries. They continued to taunt him in the mornings. With the magic of worldly obligations, Levi had managed to set them aside.

His motivations particularly lay in the fact that his world was a little bigger, he was talking to more people and the idea that these same people he was seeing were the same ones he’d been writing fictional stories for had him questioning his own sanity and had him a little self conscious about having those dreams in the first place.

At that moment though, his inability to think and feel beyond that false bottom had Levi more alarmed and he found himself attempting to articulate those dreams on the word processor just to experience a semblance of something.

Levi at least confirmed one thing, that bottom was false. And the more he articulated those dreams, the more they became real. He was starting to scrape on that false bottom and the first things that were oozing out were dreams. Somehow, the dreams were more vivid that he had ever remembered them to be. He felt almost guilty for having set them aside like some sort of fair weathered friend.

“Hey not bad! Is that homework?”

Levi tensed up in surprise. He should have been able to hear the familiar footsteps and the jangle of the keys from his place on the sofa bed. He never missed it once. Levi didn’t know if he should be proud that he had distracted himself enough not to consider Hange or terrified that she was right behind him at that moment, probably reading through his work.

He quickly closed his tab and looked at the time on the lower right. It was only five. Hange usually went home at seven.

“You’re early,” Levi commented.

“It’s my apartment. I can choose when to go home.” Hange answered. “Anyway what was that? Are you writing?”

“A journal,” Levi explained. There was not much point in lying.

“Did the counselor tell you to do that?”

“Yeah. Something about processing emotions and thoughts.”

“It’s a good exercise. Especially since you seemed pretty out of it recently...” Hange trailed off.

Levi looked back at her and noticed a flicker of what looked like guilt in Hange’s eyes before she looked away.

“Out of it?” Levi knew what she was talking about. He just felt the need to keep the conversation going.

“You spent the past weekend just lying in bed. I never even saw you look through your phone or open your laptop. ” Hange explained. “I’ve seen how these types of things develop so... So yeah, I’m just so happy to see you so focused on something else.”

“I don’t really have much else to get into other than school.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Hange said.

Levi bit his lip, instantly regretting that last sentence. Hange averaged two apologies a day which was a lot given the fact that they only ever had a two hour window to talk in between Levi’s long hours asleep and Hange’s long hours on campus.

“It wasn’t your fault. I was kinda going crazy too...With the jumping I mean.” He added. “And I was the one who decided to make that last jump in the first place. And now you have to change your whole thesis topic.”

“It wasn’t too difficult. Just one week building a new proposal. It’s still the same case study, it’s just I decided to document a recovery. Erwin’s unconventional methods with the recovery makes it worth documenting.”

“At least I’m still useful somewhere,” Levi commented wryly. Hange had explained the thesis to him over the weekend. He should have been relieved at least to know that they weren’t separating anytime soon. Surprisingly though, he wasn’t even happy to hear it. Everything around him just seemed too bleak to celebrate anything. Good news that used to make him smile and celebrate internally suddenly only made him feel a slight sense of relief, the equivalent emotion of seeing a wet floor sign in an area with slippery floors.

Hange sat on the sofa bed next to Levi and looked towards him. She took a deep breath. “I know with what’s been happening, it looks like you don’t have much going for you. And I know things seem pretty dark now but things will get better. You just have to keep living.”

“I’m still breathing.”

“You know what I mean,” Hange said. “When I get up in the morning you’re asleep. When I get back we talk for an hour and half the time it’s just me talking. You barely even answer when I ask what you want. This past weekend I didn’t even see you look through your phone. It’s like you’re practically dead.”

“What else is there to do. I can’t show up for training. My professors aren’t asking me to go back to school soon.”

“Find a new hobby? Continue whatever thing you’re writing. Enjoy the food I bring home. Laugh when you see a funny meme. Or you know, at least smile and do that nose blowing thing people do when you show them a funny meme..”

“My teammates are preparing for the new season. My classmates are at least all caught up in class. I spent too much damn time on that fucking sport. Now that it’s all gone, I feel like I’m just going with the flow of life instead of actually swimming,” Levi said, having taken that last part from Shela’s book.

“Everyone is just going with the flow of life. We’re all at the mercy of time anyway. Live for yourself. See joy in the small things at least. Look at me, I’m simping for athletes like some idiot in between studies.”

“Live for yourself? You follow people’s orders a lot for someone who gives this type of advice.”

“It’s not obeying people. I’m just asking questions and seeking advice. The more relevant facts, information and experience you have, the better the decisions you can make right. So can’t I argue that having more information at my fingertips makes me freer? ” Hange gave Levi a knowing and playful smile

He could tell by the look she gave him that she expected something in return. It was a rhetorical question though, maybe even a premature victory lap for having won that argument. Levi silently looked back at his laptop, not wanting to let her win.

Hange broke the silence. “Okay now that we’re on the topic of asking questions... who’s that Squad Leader Hange Zoe you’re writing about?”

                                A Tale of Two Slaves

Levi could not pinpoint the exact moment he decided for certain that squad leader Hange Zoe was real, when he decided for himself that the stories he was writing out should have been real.

It came as a gradual decision after incessant questions from Hange that at first, he was determined not to answer. Hange was smart about it, keeping the questions as things that could be answered with one word, and before he knew it, he was giving her too much information, it was pointless to blatantly refuse. After he had answered her more than enough questions, she smiled.

“Looks like you got my personality down,” Hange commented. Levi somehow knew her enough to tell there was no judgement or obligation in that voice. In fact, when he looked into her eyes, he saw that same wonder, he had seen many times before when she witnessed the jumps.

That wonder only carried over from questions on the squad leader to questions on his dreams and finally, to questions on how he wrote his dreams out.

“How do you see the world?”

“How do I see the world?”

“Like what type of camera angles do you see the world in. If I asked you to imagine a tree, what kind of tree do you imagine? Do you imagine it from top to bottom, from trunk to top? Our minds are the most creative producers and cameramen you can think of.”

“Do you notice how well our body blends sensations? When the light turns off then on, there’s a split second where you see shapes when your eyes adjust from light to dark?”

“What are the physical manifestations of emotions? Do you feel your stomach drop? Do you ever get that tingling feeling in your legs and suddenly they’re jelly?”

Did you ever witness something so beautiful that you wish you could live forever just so you could never forget it?

The conversation was a little deep and a little too philosophical for him. It was a ploy to get him writing and maybe a ploy to get him to understand the same wonder she had in the world from what he could tell. Somehow he needed it. The way Hange had described the world, the way she had described reality, only made the line between what could have been his imagination and his memory a little more distinct.

It was around then did he look at Hange Zoe the medical student to see the squad leader from his dreams. Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe and every single one of the soldiers in these dreams. They weren’t just dreams or manifestations of an exhausted mind.

In another life, she could have been real. The angles at which he saw the world, the way his body processed those sensations in his dreams, the manifestations of those emotions, too vivid even more vivid than a catharsis from a good book or a phenomenal ending to a TV show.

The questions continued to echo as Hange turned off the lights and Levi lay in bed awake. That food for the thought left Levi hyper aware of his surroundings, all the way down to the small details --- the way every piece of thread on the bed covers beneath him pressed on to him, the way his breath made a sound in the utter silence late at night no matter how much he tried to quiet it, the way the palpitations in his chest could be felt all the way until his head. He was excited to sleep, dream and take stock of his dreams yet he was too excited to fall asleep.

Like a five year old the night before their first field trip, Levi did not fall asleep anytime soon.

                                        A Tale of Two Slaves

Nobody really questions the logic of dreams.

Sometimes one can find themselves only a few millimeters tall on top of a giant donut. Sometimes they can find themselves having milk tea with their favorite celebrity. Dreams are more felt by the moments they bring to people, not by the logic. It was only natural Levi did not question much of his dreams then.

That night as he lay awake, Levi made the conscious effort to live in his dreams, to take note of every detail from the sights and sounds, to the smells, the emotions, repeating to himself the questions Hange had asked earlier that day. What he had failed to consider then, was the context of dreams.

Were Hange and the others okay?

He found himself on the battlefield and he knew exactly what had to be done. In front of him was a large furry creature which the military had dubbed the Beast Titan and around him were other naked humanoid creatures called titans.

The Beast titan was flinging rocks at them and the soldiers were dying at an alarming rate.

Commander Erwin Smith ordered a suicide mission. All surviving soldiers were to rush towards the Beast Titan while Levi flew from the side of the walls and snuck towards him.

He knew what to do. The movements were natural and Levi had flown before, the gear on his waist had only made the whole mission easier. Somehow, on the battlefield he had the luxury of stock knowledge.

That stock knowledge was what had him slicing through the arms, through the eyes, through the achilles and finally through the nape of said titan. He pulled out a blonde man and pushed the sword through the man’s mouth.

He could feel his blood boiling. From anger? Of course, the man had killed Erwin. For a second, Levi had managed to get a view of the blond commander as he flew from the wall slashing titan after titan. He knew the man was probably dead.

But there was a way to revive him. There was a serum.

Before Levi could give it a second thought, a duck billed monster tore into his view and---

Levi sat up and screamed. He found himself in no hurry to dodge that duck billed titan. He was in Hange's apartment, too injured to be flying in the air in those contraptions anyway. He ran his hands through his body and up to his face, taking stock of his reality. He didn't reek of titan blood nor was he covered in it. He scanned the dark room, or at least what was visible given the moon was his only light source.

Somehow, those few moments as captain Levi had felt so real, watching the moon from his place on the sofa bed seemed almost dreamlike.

Which one is my reality? Levi found himself questioning it all. As quickly as the questions came, they were answered. All he needed was one stimuli, strong enough to root him back into his reality.

"Hey, bad dream?"

The dark room and his own state of mind had made it difficult for him to notice that Hange had settled beside him. That voice though had pulled him out of his trance and he became certain at least that he was not dreaming anymore.

"Yeah," Levi managed to say. At the least he still had control of his voice.

Hange sat cross-legged next to him. The moon was at a perfect angle to illuminate her face and even in the dark room he could see it. Her eyes were looking right at him as if she were studying him a little too seriously.

She brought out one finger to his eye and pushed at the corner. That was when Levi felt it. The small tear spread on the corner of his eye and dried up within seconds. Levi only hastened the process by wiping it himself.

"I'm not leaving you tonight."

"Why?"

"I'll take full responsibility for this. It was my mistake that got you into this in the first place.”

"I've had them before. This is nothing new.” Levi argued. As Hange lay on the sofa bed next to him though, he realized he didn’t want her to leave. His body froze as if understanding that emotion, unwilling to accommodate the protests, the impulse inside him to argue, to force her to go back to her room.

The sofa bed was at least big enough for both of them, wide enough for a comfortable one to two feet space between them. Hange had made sure as well to lie on her side, only widening that space a little more.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this but I swear I really do mean it every time. I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked as she said it.

Levi only continued to stare at the ceiling above him, listening to her disturbed and hitched breaths next to him as if she was holding back something. He didn’t want to look to his side, not wanting to further aggravate a reaction he sensed was raring to come out of her or to further tighten that knot which had settled itself on his chest. His dim surroundings only illuminated weakly by the moon, did not help at all.

Levi lay awake for a while longer, scrambling for words that could placate her.

This is nothing new. It hadn’t worked.

I’m fine. But he wasn’t.

Things happen. Had he not given that same consolation so many times before?

Eventually the rhythm of her breathing evened out enough for Levi to guess that she had fallen asleep, and as if by some special force, Levi found his breathing slowing down too. He was starting to relax.

The apartment was dark and quiet. It was peaceful, so peaceful that Levi never did notice when exactly he was pulled back into his dream. The dimness of the apartment was gradually replaced by the dimness of the forest a long time ago. The distant sounds of passing cars gradually replaced by the crackle of a fire and the rustle of leaves on a windy night.

He was surrounded by trees. A broken wooden cart lay to the side and a few feet away from it a campfire.

The soft and even breathing next to him stayed though. The same exact pattern, the same exact rhythm, the same hitched breaths--- all signs of the light uneasy slumber of his companion.

That was all Levi needed to hear to have sworn nothing much changed about her.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levihan fanfiction #fanfic

[addercharmer]

Izumi has scoped out this park before, once she had figured out that it was where Rei took the Todoroki children. She had worried about how to not appear like some sort of creeper. 

"Hurry dad!" Keigo shouted from where he was dragging Izumi the last few feet to the grass that surrounded the play equipment. 

Izumi tripped over her own two feet at Keigo already calling Nezu 'dad'. Izumi dropped Keigo's hand so she wouldn't pull him to the ground with her. 

Gentle hands catch Izumi by the shoulders. "Careful there dear." A woman's voice says softly in her ear, as Izumi is placed back on her feet. 

"Ahhhh, thank you." Izumi yelps, turning as best she can to bow. Hands are on her shoulders again pushing her into standing again. 

"Please don't." The woman is saying as she pushes. 

"Izumi, is everything okay?" Nezu asks as he makes his way from where he had been talking to Keigo. 

"Yea dad." Izumi says at the same time Rei gasps.

"Nezu-san" Rei starts bowing and it's Izumi's turn to stop her. 

"Todoroki-san, it has been many years." Nezu greets Rei, both him and Izumi catch the flinch at the use of the last name. 

"Hello, I'm Nezu Izumi, my new little brother is around here somewhere too." Izumi says softly with a small smile on her lips. 

"NEE-CHAN! SHŌ-NII IS HERE WITH SOME CRAZY!" Keigo's scream cuts through the air making both females jump. 

"I guess he's over there, excuse me for a moment. I will bring the others to introduce themselves." She tells the two adults and sprints to where she thought Keigo was. 

"But he's so cute Shō. I want to take him home with me and never let him go!" Izumi hears Nemuri saying as she gets closer. 

"Put down the rosefinch or Izumi is gonna make you hurt for scaring him." Shōta says as he catches Izumi's gaze. 

Izumi crouches a little lower so she will be able to take out Nemuri's knees, she trusts Shōta to catch Keigo before he's hurt. 

When she makes contact between her right shoulder and the back of Nemuris knees she stands from her crouch making the purple haired girl throw Keigo and scream like she's being murdered and she's flipped over Izumi head and lands with a heavy this. 

"Little rosefinch!" Izumi calls to Keigo as she barrels into Keigo and Shōta, her hands are fluttering around them both checking for any wounds they might have. 

They must not be injured because once they both stop staring at her in shock they both start to cackle, Keigo lands first on his feet then collapses to his knees as Shōta doubles over holding his stomach. 

Izumi crosses her own arms over her chest and huffs at them before she turns and lightly pushes oh Nemuris side with her foot. 

"Don't scare my baby bird." She growls at the other female. 

Nemuri whines from where she's face down in the dirt. 

"Oh get up, I know you take harder hits in training." Izumi says unimpressed with the other girl. 

"Come on, dad wants us to meet some people." Izumi says at the still laughing boys and groaning girl before she starts back in the direction she had come from. 

She hadn't made it very far before she sees both her dad and Rei watching the events that had just unfolded. 

Izumi freezes and blushes so deeply she knows she looks like a strawberry. 

"Ahhhhh, damn, there goes first impressions." She mumbles, her dad's squeaking laugh makes it known that she wasn't quiet enough. 

"Come along children, Rei-san would like you to meet her children." Nezu says after he clears his throat to calm his laughter. 

Izumi slides up next to her dad close enough that Rei will hear her speak as well. "Sorry dad, Nemuri was scaring our rosefinch, she wouldn't listen to Shōta so I just kinda...yeah." she apologizes. 

"I'm glad you are willing to protect him, when we get him out of the commission's claws I assume they will try to get him back." Nezu has a growl in her voice as he says that and Izumi nods frantically. 

"I would do it for any child being harmed, no matter who is doing the harming." She says with steel in her words and shoulders squared. 

After the short exchange that has Rei sizing Izumi and Nezu up with a slightly hopeful glint in her eyes the other three had finally come to join them. 

"Nee-chan you gotta teach me how to do that." Keigo says as he grabs her hand with a big toothy smile. 

"When you're older, you're only seven it's too early to train you yet, you're supposed to be having fun like any kid." She tells him with a serious face. "When you are thirteen we can talk about it then." 

"Rei-san, you've met Izumi, but the young boy is Keigo. The dark haired male is Aizawa Shōta, one of my students. And the female is Kayama Nemuri, a second year in the heroics course." Nezu introduces them. 

"My oldest is your age, Keigo-kun." Rei says softly with a small smile. "Come I'll introduce you." 

The group of five follow the slight white haired woman over to where three children and a baby are sitting quietly on a blanket. 

"These are my children." Rei informs before pointing to each child as she gives their names. "Touya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto." 

Izumi steps forward to be their spokes person. "Hi I'm Nezu Izumi, this is my brother Keigo, behind me are my friends Shōta and Nemuri, we are expecting two more soon, and my dad is Nezu." Izumi waves a hand in the general direction of each person as she speaks. 

"Do you want to play tag with us?" She asks, hopeful that they aren't to shelters yet to want to play. 

Touya looks them over with careful eyes. "Sure, but one of you is it." He says, his voice is already raspy from the damage his fire does. 

"I'll be it." Izumi chirps as the three who are old enough stand to join them. "I'll count to ten so everyone can scatter." 

"One...two…" Keigo let go of her hand but grabbed onto Natsuo's, carefully running with him. 

"Three...four…" Shōta looked at Touya both assessing one another before they took off in opposite directions. 

"Five….six…" Nemuri had scooped Fuyumi up to get her far enough away with how far Izumi was in the count down. 

"Seven…" Oboro had arrived, Izumi pauses in counting to yell at him. "Playing tag, I'm it, the white haired kids are playing, and the blonde with red wings is my rosefinch." Oboro nods and turns on his heel to go after Nemuri and Fuyumi. 

"Eight...nine….ten…" Izumi starts at a sprint to where she sees Shōta. 

It takes her a few tries, Shōta's legs are longer than hers, but she's faster. She finally hits his bicep before she spins on her heel with a crazed laugh and sprints to where she sees Keigo and Natsuo. 

"Shōta's it." She announces loudly as she runs past the others. 

Skidding to a stop near the two boys she was aiming to talk to, she squats in front of them, knowing Shōta will most likely go after Touya. 

"The blue haired boy by Nemuri and Fuyumi is my friend Oboro, he's kinda loud and silly and very protective." She lets the two boys know before she ruffles their hair and heads over to the adults to let Rei know about Oboro. 

Izumi stopped and kneeled on the edge of the blanket, she quickly carded her hand through silky soft red and white hair on Shotos head before she met Rei's eyes. 

"My friend just arrived a few minutes ago, he has blue hair, his name is Shirakumo Oboro, he is also in the same class with Shōta and myself. The last one who is coming is Yamada Hizashi, another classmate, he spikes his blond hair up, but I'm sure dad will point him out when he arrives." Izumi explains, she feels her eyes flickering down to Shoto often. 

"Touya's it." Izumi hears Shōta yell out to everyone. 

"Ah, that's my cue." She laughs lightly before she's back on her feet and running. 

"Fuyumi's it." Touya's raspy voice calls next. 

"Ne-Nemuri's it." A high childish voice calls moments after. 

Nemuri seems to have set her sights on Izumi, she's sprinting towards the green haired girl at a speed faster than Izumi has seen her move before. 

Izumi evades being tagged a few time before she feels a slap on her shoulder. 

"Izumi's it." Nemuri calls, Izumi pauses to catch her breath, she sees Hizashi in the corner of her eye and starts off running towards Natsuo and Keigo again. 

This time both boys run, Keigo is helping Natsuo stay on his feet and urging him to keep running, Izumi is stupidly proud of him for thinking of others already. 

Izumi runs a few paces behind them swiping her hand out every few moments, she's making it look like she's trying hard to catch them, they've made their way across the park when Izumi touches Keigo's shoulder lightly. 

"Ah, just a ten seconds time out." She says quickly once the two have stopped. "Hizashi is here, he is the other blond boy talking to your mom, okay Natsuo?" 

"Uh huh." The boy is panting hard, he's only four. 

Izumi scoops him up in her arms and calls out. "Keigo's it, Hizashi is here and in play." 

Keigo starts to run at Hizashi who squeals like a pig and takes off at a run that's just out of Keigo's reach, he only runs for around half a minute before Izumi sees a small hand land on his back. 

"Zashi-nii it!" Keigo calls out then he runs towards Izumi had last seen Touya. 

There is a scream and the sound of bodies colliding, Izumi stops and sees Hizashi laying on top of Shōta, who thankful seems to have given Fuyumi to Oboro. 

There are two loud groans before Hizashi is popping back to his feet and slipping a little of his quirk into his voice. 

"Shōta's it." 

Shōta growls, and Izumi isn't really sure why her heart skips a beat at the sound. 

She's not really running fast enough to avoid Shōta, but instead of her arm he taps it's Natsuo's. 

"Natsuo's it." Shōta calls and take off. 

"You good to run again?" Izumi asks before she puts him on his feet. 

"Uh huh." The little white hairs boy nods. 

Izumi runs away slowly, she looks over her shoulder to see Natsuo running as fast as his little legs can carry him to Touya. 

Izumi runs so she can scoop up the boy again once he has tagged his brother. 

"Tou-nii it." Natsuo's little voice is just loud enough to hear. 

Touya waits for Izumi to be close enough to pick up Natsuo before he takes off focus fully on Oboro. He's a little rough when his hand slaps Oboro's hip. 

The blue haired boy looks around and spots Hizashi close by, he jogs over to the blond and deposits a sleepy Fuyumi into his arms. 

Izumi grins a little at the dopey smile on Hizashi's face when he looks at the little girl. 

"Nee-chan, I sleepy." Natsuo says and shoves his face firmly into her shoulder. 

Izumi rubs his back and slowly walks over to the adults. "Okay Natsuo, I am going to put you down and grab your sister, then we can all nap together." She tells him softly before sitting him by Nezu. 

"Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Izumi are out." She calls to the other as she jogs to meet Hizashi to take the sleeping girl. 

Once she's back on the blanket Izumi has both small white haired children cuddled into her lap and around each other as she watches the others play, keeping a close eye of Touya and Keigo. 

"You know Rei-san...I don't mean to be rude, but what if dad and I could get you all away?" Izumi asks without looking at the woman, she knows Nezu didn't bring this up, they had agreed that Izumi would, because if I child can tell that they are being abused then other can and are ignoring it. 

"There is an officer, Tsukauchi, he has a lie detector quirk, I can get the evidence, you just have to give it to him and move your things into our home." Izumi keeps speaking. "I hate seeing children hurt, dad saved me, and we are saving Keigo, let us save you and yours as well." 

Izumi finishes what she's saying just before Touya and Keigo both collapse near her with tired huffs, Izumi doesn't think as she reaches out to both boys and starts to finger comb their hair, humming a very old prequirk song. 

As soon as everyone under the age of nine is asleep around her the other teens come and join them, Nemuri is dramatically telling them about Izumi flipping her but she's quiet enough none of the kids wake up. 

Izumi can't help but smile and send her thanks to Eri, who she will save this time before anything even hurts her. 

#rewound #dad nedzu #female midoriya izuku #time travel #takami keigo #kayama nemuri #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #chapter20 #bnha

[reallifewriterwrites]

DAY 5: First times

First time worrying

"I almost got it!"

Brock, Pikachu and Misty all looked on worried when Ash was climbing a high tree to grab pokeball he accidentally somehow threw up there.

"Ash, get down!" Brock yelled. "I can use Onyx to grab it! Don't do it!"

"Don't! I got this!" Ash yelled.

Misty furrowed her eyebrows. This idiot boy...he was going to get himself...hurt.

Ash grabbed the pokeball, but his foot slipped.

They all gasped as Ash fell down from the tree. He fell from meters high into a bush.

"Ash!" Misty and Brock yelled and they ran towards him to see if he was okay.

"Are you hurt?" Brock helped him up.

"N-nah..." Ash looked at the pokeball in his hand. "I got charizard...plus, the bush broke my fall!"

"You idiot!" Misty suddenly screamed.

"What?" Ash said.

"You were almost dead! Don't you know how worried I was..."

"You were worried?" Ash quirked his eyebrow. "And here I thought you hated me."

"Just...shut up!"

Misty turned around and stomped away. Ash tilted his head.

What was her problem?

_______________________________________________________________________

First time holding hands

Misty was nervous. And she normally wasn't.

But today was their first date. She and Ash had finally confessed to each other and today the teen both had some free time and decided to spend the day together.

They went to the amusement park. There they went on different rides and had fun like friends would...but now they weren't supposed to be friends anymore. According to Misty's research from the girl magazine, Ash should be head over heels by now.

And she had tried everything according to the rules. She tried to crack some jokes, which Ash found funny, fluttered with her eyes, which he didn't notice and tried to get him on one of the more romantic rides, which he refused.

They sat down on a bench after going on a rollercoaster.

Misty glanced down at his hand. Now she had to grab his hand as her last resort. If that didn't work, then it would all be in vain.

"I'm done..." Ash sighed. "Really, Mist, are there even any rides left?"

He saw how Misty was staring at his hand in a daze.

"Misty?"

Misty looked at him and smiled a little.

"Ah, right! Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was...are you okay?"

Misty nodded. "Yeah, sorry for dozing off."

"No problem."

Ash grabbed her hand. Misty gasped and a blush covered her cheeks. She looked at Ash who blushed as well.

"Is there any ride you want to go on again?" He asked, acting as if this was the most normal thing for him to do.

"No...how about we go grab something to eat? Or...maybe you can let go of my hand?"

Ash blinked and stared at her. "You don't like it?"

"No...it's..." Misty gave his hand a squeeze. "...just that I like it a bit too much. Plus, this is so unlike you!"

"What?! I can be romantic!"

"Really?" Misty rolled her eyes. "Because I have been giving you signals the entire time!"

"So that's why you were being weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah." Ash said. "Besides the good jokes, you were smiling and blinking really weird. I was about to take you to a hospital."

"Then...why did you grab my hand?" Misty asked.

"I might have read it somewhere. Plus, I like you, so I'm allowed to hold your hand!"

Misty laughed. "Of course!"

Ash laughed too. "Good! Then, let's eat!"

"Is that all you can think about?"

"Not only."

Ash blushed and looked at her with a loving gaze. A gaze that told Misty that everything was going to be fine with their relationship.

_______________________________________________________________________

First time for 'it'

(A little bit nsfw, if you're uncomfortable, just skip this part)

Their lips crashed against each other. They fell down onto the mattress with a loud thud.

Misty moaned as Ash kissed her neck. After a few years of dating she was finally ready. Yes, she was already 19 and she would have wanted to do it earlier, but there was never a right time. Plus, Ash was gone for at least a year, traveling again.

"Misty..." Ash breathed out. His hand moved down and Misty moaned a little again.

"Ash..." She whispered. "You know that this is my first time..."

Ash stopped kissing her neck. He looked at her with a grin. Misty felt her heart explode from the way he always smiled at her. Ash put his hand against her and gently rubbed it.

"Don't worry. It's my first time too."

First time proposing

"Will you marry me?"

It was a cold and stormy night. After a day at the beach, Ash and Misty went back home when it started to rain. However, they managed to get lost and had to take shelter in a nearby cave.

"Excuse me?" Misty said. It was as if she just heard Ash ask if she wanted to marry him.

Ash pulled something out of his bag. It was a small wooden box. He opened it up to reveal a bright, shining ring.

He went down on one knee and said, this time more loudly; "Will you marry me, Misty Waterflower?"

"Ash..."

"I wanted to do it on the beach, but the weather kinda ruined it for me."

"Does it matter? Even if you asked me at the end of the world, you should know my answer."

Ash stood up. "And that is...?"

"Yes. A thousand times, yes."

"Really?! Yes!"

Ash grabbed her waist and twirled her around. Misty laughed.

They kissed and kissed and stopped when Ash reminded himself that he had to put the ring on her finger.

And that's how they got engaged in a cave. Unlike most people.

_______________________________________________________________________

First time pregnant

Misty groaned.

She had a beergut. That was it. Her once toned body now had a huge gut. And all because her husband couldn't keep it in his pants.

Okay, it wasn't his fault.

But, did she want children?!

Yes.

Okay, but...

"Misty!"

Ash walked into the living room. He was holding two bags from the snackbar. His hair was a mess and with the new beard he looked a bit older than he was.

Misty looked away from the tv. She sat up from the couch and rubbed her back.

"With extra fries?" Misty asked Ash.

Ash nodded. "Yep. Just like you asked. Oh and I made sure to ask the neighbours to keep the noise down, I got Casey to help out at the gym, cleaned the pools, took Gyarados out to the lake where he had his fun and I updated your computer! Oh and..."

Misty gave him a sudden, but sweet kiss.

She pulled away with a blush on her face. "Where would I be without you?"

"Single."

"Oh ha-ha." Misty rolled her eyes. "But really...thank you. I love you."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________________________________

First time falling in love

"Oh! Oh! Hey, I got a bite! Oh, wow, I really think this could really be a big one!"

It was a nice day. Misty Waterflower had just embarked on her adventure to become a water pokemon master! She was going to show her sister that she was talented too!

She was out fishing. At first nothing much happened, as it was very lonely and quiet, but suddenly she got something. So she pulled her line back, hoping to catch something big. But instead it was a boy and his Pikachu.

"Nah, it's just a kid. Oh and a Pokémon. Oh, are you ok?"

Misty jumped down and looked at the pokemon in the boy's arms. It looked badly injured.

"Yeah, I'm ok." The boy said.

"Not you!"

Misty gave him a slap. The boy wanted to respond, but before he could complain Misty talked further.

"Look what you done to that poor little thing. Is it breathing?"

The boy nodded slowly. "I, I... I think so."

Misty looked at the boy. He had raven black hair and brown eyes. He seemed genuinely worried for his Pikachu. Maybe he was a good guy after all...but was what it that Daisy always said? Good guys finish last or something?

Whatever.

Misty sighed and said: "Well, just dont sit there, it need a doctor right away. There's a medical center not to far from here. You've got to get moving now!"

"You mean a hospital?"

Misty rolled her eyes. "Yes, for Pokémon."

"Ok, can you tell me, which way do I go?"

Misty pointed down the bike road. She knew the nearest center because one day ago she had just cycled past it on her brand new bike.

"That way." Misty said.

The boy suddenly looked over his shoulder and back. His eyes were frantic.

"They're coming back! Run!"

They?

Misty wanted to ask him, but the boy ran to her bike, put his Pikachu in the bike's basket and jumped on.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Misty yelled.

"I'm borrowing this!"

"Wait, hey, that's my bike!"

The boy looked over his shoulder as he started to cycle away and yelled: "I'll give it back someday!"

Misty planted her hands on her hips.

"Oh you..."

She smiled a little. She didn't knew why, but her heart was pounding a bit faster than usual. That boy was a whole lot different than the boys from her old school. He was quick thinking and a lot more arrogant.

Maybe this journey wouldn't be so lonely.

#DAY 5: First times #pokeshipping week 2020 #pokeshipping #day 5