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shadowandlightt · 4 months

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Of Nightmares and Memories | eight | Azirel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

A/N: I'm very nervous about this part and the ones coming after it. I hope you still enjoy it, even though it's probably what you're expecting.

When the darkness faded, all you could see was the Moonstone Palace that you’d spent so much time in as a child. You could finally fill my lungs with air, a sweet jasmine scent floating in it. Feyre was gently laid on a couch in the center of the great room. Mor, who didn’t seem to know what to do, ran forward and wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you so tightly the newly fresh air was knocked from your lungs.

“You were dead,” She cried, “We mourned you. For years we mourned.”

“I’m sorry,” You choke out, “I tried, for years I tried.”

But then you gave up. And you accepted your fate in the Spring Court. You didn’t fight hard enough when Amerantha still had control. Or in the days following her fall. You could have made it, surely you could have. You thought you could winnow short distances at that point, though you hadn’t tested it. You should have been able to jump from place to place until you made it to the border of the Night Court. Until you made it to safety. But you didn’t. You threw up in the rose and gave up.

You gave up on them.

Dread filled you. Because how could you explain everything that happened to you? How could you explain that you’d given up on ever seeing any of them again, and that your only thought had been of death. Because then, maybe the Mother would grant you access to your own mother. Maybe she would allow you to look after Rhys and the others from whatever world exists beyond your own.

Guilt swirled in with the dread. How could you tell your brother that you’d been praying for death for hundreds of years? How could you tell him that your mother didn’t beg for herself that day, or her wings, she begged for you. Begged for them to spare you and send you on your way. Begged as they started to cut into your back, leaving behind two long and ugly scars.

How could you explain any of it?

“How are you alive?” Rhys questioned, pain lingering in his eyes.

“Tamlin begged for my life that day,” You reply, feeling an icy cold settle over you.

You hadn’t spoken of it. Hadn’t voiced what happened that day. Saying it now makes it all too real. Before you could imagine that your mother was still alive, flying around Valaris, but now….now saying it aloud you knew she was gone. You could feel it deep in your bones.

“He begged his father and brother, said it would be better to keep me as a bargaining chip,” You explain, “He ended up just keeping me as a toy, after everything happened.”

Then a thought accrued to you. Tamlin was so desperate to get Rhys to release Feyre from their bond, he said he would do anything. Perhaps he would have let you go…perhaps he would’ve finally used you as a bargaining chip against your brother.

“He probably would’ve offered me on a silver platter for you to release Feyre,” You laugh.

“All these years, you’ve been right there?” Rhys asked, voice cracking.

It's been years since you’d seen him cry. The stone exterior was crumbling, leaving behind a broken boy who lost his mother and sister in the same day, only to have one returned to him. You want to move to comfort him, but you’re locked in where you stand. As if there is a spell over you, keeping you from moving.

You’re afraid to move, truly. Because if you move you might wake up and find that this is all a dream. A beautiful and cruel dream. So you stay put as the tears fall from both yours and Rhys’ eyes.

“All this time,” You reply, “I’ve been locked away in the Manor House. I was there that night that you and father came, and I was there when you first met Feyre, and every moment after that.”

“Calanmai,” he says suddenly, “You were there that night. Gods above, you spoke to me.”

The tears are falling harder now. Unstoppable against the emotions you both feel. Mor is still standing close to you, you could almost lean against her for support. But she’s somehow also giving you and Rhys your space to work this out.

“I was praying to the Gods and to the Mother and to the Cauldron that you would be able to see beyond the glamor and see me,” You verify, “That’s why I said I was like the wind, I hoped you would hear it and realize.”

His head shook, “I couldn’t allow myself to believe. I heard you, Mother I heard you, but I couldn’t believe it. You didn’t smell like you.”

“Scents change, besides, I was wrapped in Lucien’s clothing to disguise my scent,” You explain, “I expect I smelled like Lucien for a long time. He was the only constant visitor I had for years.”

“Y/N-” His voice broke as he surged forward to wrap you in his arms, “My sweet baby sister. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. If anyone should feel guilty about all of this, it should be you. You should have fought harder that day. Even at such a young age, you could have misted all of them if you really wanted to. But you’d never killed another fae before. Never killed another living thing. So you hesitated and that was long enough for them to overpower you both and kill your mother. They’d come for Rhys that day, but they got a better prize in the form of the Princess of the Night Court.

“No, you don’t get to feel bad about this,” You warn him, “You are not to blame.”

“If I hadn't trusted him…if I would’ve just met you both in the woods thay day,” He all but cries out.

“No, it’s no one's fault but Tamlin and his family’s,” You stay sternly, hoping maybe one day you’ll believe it.

Maybe one day you’ll finally believe that you aren’t to blame for your mother’s death. That none of it was your fault. She had no real power of her own, no way to protect herself. It was on you to do that. It was Rhys’ responsibility to protect you both. Not that you would ever, ever blame him for what happened. He couldn’t have known what Tamlin was planning with his family. He couldn’t have known that his friend wanted him dead because they saw him as such a threat.

Suddenly your body felt heavy and weighed down. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. All you felt was pure exhaustion. Your eyes flutter and Rhys seems to notice the change in your body.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” he questions.

You try to smile, but you know it doesn't reach your eyes, “I don’t sleep well anymore.”

He sighs deeply and wraps an arm around you as he slowly leads you towards the bedrooms, “I can have a tonic brought up for you.”

“No need,”You shake your head, “I’m sure just being back here will put me at ease.”

You wished you believed the words you were saying. But you didn’t. You weren’t sure that anything would put you at ease again. All you could feel was anxious energy swirling in your belly. Threatening to boil over at any moment. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around the fact that you were free. Couldn’t fully understand that you were here, and safe, and with your family again. Or at least part of them.

“Cassain and Azirel won’t know what to do with themselves,” Rhys lets out a small laugh as he wipes at his eyes.

“You can’t tell them,” You halt suddenly, “Oh, Rhys, you can’t. I’m not ready.”

“Don’t you want to see them again?” he questions, brows drawing in.

“Of course I do, but I-” You shake your head, feeling your whole body start to shake.

How could you explain it to him in a way that would make sense? How could he understand where your head was at? Seeing them would push you over the edge. Seeing Az…knowing his shadows would tell him your darkest secrets…you couldn’t handle it. You couldn’t handle seeing him disappointed in you…disgusted with you. It would break you in more ways than Tamlin ever could.

To lose Azirel was like to lose the air you breathe. It would kill you to lose him. You could feel it deep within you. You wouldn’t survive Azriel turning his back upon you. So it was best that he just didn’t know you lived. Maybe you could live out the rest of your days in a cabin in the mountains. Yes…that would be good. You were used to the solitude anyway.

“You can’t tell them,” You begged your brother, “Please Rhys. I can’t bear them knowing.”

“But Y/N, they’re our family,” He tried to reason with you.

“Please Rhys,” you shake even harder, “I can’t bear it. I’m not ready.”

“Okay,” He finally relented, “Okay. I won’t tell them.”

Your body sags with his agreement. Your breath comes out in heavy pants, because your lungs seem to be constricting and not allowing the proper amount of air into them. Everything just feels wrong now. Nothing feels right. You feel as if you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be allowed to have a moment of happiness with your brother.

You shouldn’t be allowed happiness when it’s your fault that your mother is dead. You should have done more to save her that day, instead of going limp in the arms of Tamlin’s brothers. You should have done everything in your power to save her. Instead you let her die, and you still live. It would have been better if you just died that day.

“Here we are,” Rhys said, unaware of the thoughts you were having, “Try to sleep. I’ll come check on you in a while.”

“Okay,” You sigh, pushing the door open, “Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Little Star. Now sleep, before you drop in a heap on the floor.”

You couldn’t sleep though. No matter how hard you try. Because all you could think of was how it should have been you to die. It should have been you, and not your mother. She could have helped Rhys with his transition into High Lord, she could’ve been there for Cassian and Azirel, who desperately needed a mother.

But instead you lived. And now you’re too cowardly to tell them that you lived. Too cowardly to ask to return home to Valaris. Too cowardly to do anything.

Rhys didn’t come back for hours, when he did you pretended to be asleep. All the while tears quietly slid down your cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Your life wasn’t supposed to happen like this. What did you do to make The Mother punish you so?

“I’m taking Feyre to Valaris,” He spoke, somehow knowing you’re awake, “Please consider coming with us.”

“No,” You say firmly, not rolling over to see him, “I’d like to stay here.”

“It’s your home, Y/N,” He pleaded, “You can’t hide from it forever.”

“I can’t go back Rhys,” You can’t explain it to him. He would never let you out of his sight if he knew.

“Please consider it,” He begs, “Please, Little Star, I don’t want to be separated from you again.”

“Then don’t leave,” You snap at him.

“You know I have to go back.”

“Then take her and get out,” You snarl, “I’m not going back.”

“Y/N-”

“Go Rhysand!” You yell, reaching for anything to throw at him.

You can feel yourself losing control of the little power you had access to. Darkness seeping from your body. There were no stars in this darkness, only a black void. Much like the cocoon that Feyre created. Only this was something you never did. Your darkness always had stars, but now you aren’t sure if you could conjure them even if you tried.

That light inside you had been snuffed out long ago. It was only now that you realized it. It was only now that you accepted it as the truth. Your light was gone, the stars were gone. You weren’t Rhy’s Little Star anymore. You were something worse. Something made hard from years of captivity and cruelty. You weren’t sure you would even recognize yourself if you looked in the mirror.

“Fine,” You’d never heard him sound so defeated. You were sure if he had wings they would be dragging on the ground as he turned to leave your room. He stopped at the door and looked back at you, “I’ll send Mor to check in on you.”

“Don’t bother,” You mumble, “I’ll be fine.”

Only you wouldn’t be fine. You weren’t fine. And You weren’t sure that you ever would be fine again. The darkness threatened to swallow you whole and you wanted to let it. You wanted to give into it and let it take all that you were. Maybe it would be better that way. Easier.

When your door clicks shut and you hear Rhys’ footsteps moving away from you, you allow yourself to fall apart. When the house goes silent you let out an anguished cry loud enough to almost shake the whole mountain. Life wasn’t supposed to happen this way. You were supposed to be overjoyed at being freed, not whatever this is.

You feel as if you’re going to rip yourself apart, and for a moment you wish you would. You wish death would just come for you. You yearned for the sweet release that death would provide. Because at least then you might be able to find peace.

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#acomaf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

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powdermelonkeg · 3 months

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Theory that solves(?) "founding of Hyrule" timeline inconsistencies:

Origin of Hyrule no. 1: Skyward Sword. Zelda, Link, and the Skylians settle the surface world at the game's conclusion. Notably, their dress looks nothing like the Zonai era.

Origin of Hyrule no. 2: Tears of the Kingdom. Rauru and Sonia are the king and queen who founded Hyrule. Notably, Zonai mechanisms and architecture greatly resemble the pre-Skyward-Sword-era Lanayru mining tech and symbolism, though Skyward Sword's art direction is more cartoony than TotK, so that has to be taken into account.

That's where it gets cyclical. If TotK's forgotten era came first, then:

Zonai influence should be ALL OVER Skyloft

The Gerudo should not exist, because they're (implied to be) descended from Groose, a Skylian; at the very least, there should have been a whole Gerudo culture in the Sky

Where did the Secret Stones go?

We should have seen Zeldra flying around in the sky, let alone Dinraal, Farosh, and Naydra

But if Skyward Sword came before all things Zonai, then:

The Lanayru Mining Facility (assuming it to be Zonai in origin) should not exist

Hyrule should have already been founded by Rauru's time

Of the two, Skyward Sword being first on the wild surface makes more sense. But if that's the case, there are even more questions:

Where did the Secret Stones come from? Are we to believe that Hylia gave them to the Zonai, since the Golden Trio have already left the Triforce and departed?

What about the Zonai themselves? They supposedly descended from the heavens. Were they just up so high that the Skylians couldn't find them? Did Hylia cleave the ground twice? Did they spontaneously appear up there like mice in grain bins?

Why is there a whole Temple of Time with bells that Rauru, one of two of the LAST of his species, woke up and went to sleep to? In fact, why is there an entire kingdom's worth of structures already built before the Sky Reckoning?

My solution:

The Zonai did exist pre-Skyward Sword, and did descend down from the sky ages ago. They built the Lanayru Mining Facility, utilizing the power of Timeshift Stones in their work. This is not Rauru and Mineru's era.

The Zonai are among the people that stay behind to fight Demise alongside Hylia, while the Skylians were sent up to Skyloft. The people of the Surface are entrusted with the Secret Stones as weapons against Demise, with the caveat that they keep them hidden. That's why they're called Secret Stones despite being well-known to Ganondorf in TotK, it was PARAMOUNT that Demise not know he could get any stronger.

The war ends. Just about every civilization is obliterated by it. The Zonai retreat as far from Demise's seal as they can to lick their wounds. They take the sages' Secret Stones with them, so as to not be caught unawares and lose them to Demise when he eventually reemerges.

Skyward Sword.

The evil is defeated, the Skylians come down to the Surface. That's the signal that it's safe to return now. Shortly after the Skylians officially start to settle, the Zonai, who know how things work, help them build a proper civilization.

Time passes. The Surface is officially a bunch of scattered clans with varying degrees of territory. People are content, though nothing is particularly efficient. The Skylians take on Zonai fashion and building styles as generations pass. The Zonai themselves dwindle.

Rauru, married to the leader of the Hylians, looks to unite the scattered clans under one banner in the name of prosperity and shared resources, idolizing the pre-Skyward era where the gods walked the land. He and Sonia officially name the place Hyrule, and any clan that signs treaty with them is considered within its borders. Mineru, meanwhile, has made her first construct models based on the Lanayru Mine Robots of old, which add to the appeal of joining Hyrule as its subkingdom territories.

Tears of the Kingdom, Zelda's first 12 memories.

Between the Master Sword going back in time and Zeldra's ascent, Zelda and Mineru get to work with as many constructs as possible to protect the Sky Isles they plan to send upwards. They need a TON of Zonaite, and recycling is a priority, leading to the gachapon machines.

Zelda knows enough about her kingdom that she knows where the land is particularly rich is where the people of her time settled, and Zonaite is shown to enrich soil greatly. This is why all the old Zonaite mines are underneath the towns in modern Hyrule, despite changing geography through other eras, and Tarrey Town's new-ness.

Zelda ascends.

The secretive Sheikah clan, having seen the Blood Moon's rise when the Demon King took power, realize that Demise isn't, in fact, all gone. They decide this means that their job serving Hylia isn't truly done, and return to help the fledgling kingdom as best they can. They bring the knowledge of the Master Sword of Skyward Sword days with them.

Ganondorf first shakes the seal he's under without form, leading to the first Calamity and the initial rise of Calamity Ganon. This is 10k years before BotW. This is also the first documented use of the Master Sword to seal the Demon King away, recorded in the tapestry.

The Sheikah are forced to abandon their technology. The Yiga/Sheikah split happens.

Literally all the rest of Hyrulean History happens after this.

Breath of the Wild.

Tears of the Kingdom.

#totk #botw #skyward sword #theory #loz #zelda #timeline shenanigans #things make a lot more sense if you divide the zonai into TWO eras instead of one #also FINALLY i have a reason why there are mines under Tarrey Town. like all the rest were iffy as is but TARREY #that thing was built SIX YEARS AGO and I BUILT IT #long post #bee attempts to make sense of zelda lore by eating all the wrenches nintendo keeps throwing into it

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golden-afternoon · 1 month

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wahhh happy birthday Xiao!!! I wanted to finish writing this which I had sitting in my wips for a while now for his birthday but got really sad when I realized I wouldn't be able to get it done in time. Therefore the ending is suuuuper rushed and the whole thing is a little jank but I wanted to post it still even if it's not perfect. May revisit this later to fix it up a little!

Warnings - gn! reader, Xiao dealing with Xiao thoughts in his not exactly healthy ways, blowjobs n face fucking my favorites 😋, wet dreams, aaand I think that covers it?

Bitter.

Bitter was the taste usually lingering in his mouth. Bitter words waiting behind his lips, bitter bile at the back of his throat at best forgotten memories, bitter disdain as he swallows back his useless desires. The unpleasant flavor remains on his tongue most of the time, having come to accept it was simply another burden of his to bear.

How rare then was such a taste of sweetness?

Xiao swallowed thickly, almost on instinct to get rid of the unfamiliar sweet flavor that had begun to spread across his tongue, flooding his senses. His mouth felt incredibly dry and the action had done little to nothing to sate the urge to remove the offending taste.

So, so sweet.

It was so unbearably sweet, he wasn’t sure he could stand it.

So sweet was the sight before him, he could hardly wrap his head around it. The sight of you. You, there before him gazing up with those sweet, precious eyes of yours. You, so sweetly kneeling before him as though it were the most natural position in the world to be in. You, whose fingers delicately had been tracing along the hem of his pants, gently tugging at the silks that lie around his hips to set the fabric loose.

“What are you doing?”

The words left him, coming out in a low, biting tone, bitterness falling from his tongue with practiced ease. Yet, he made no effort to move away. He, the Vigilant Yaksha, the Conqueror of Demons, the great Alatus, was frozen in place like an animal caught by surprise in a field. His brows furrowed together he stared down at you, both trying to piece together the meaning of your behavior and why he had not moved yet. His heart was beating hard enough in his chest that he could hear the blood rushing around his ears in time with each beat.

Yet even with the sharpness of his words, you remained unfazed, simply smiling up at him with such tenderness, unaware that such a gaze made that sweet flavor flood across his tongue again, much to his growing unease. “You may try to lie to yourself Xiao, but it's clear as day to me that you need to spend some time relaxing.”

Even your voice was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. It made his stomach churn. No, not churn. That's not the right word. It was a lighter sensation than that. Almost… pleasant, even as it made him almost feel sick. A feeling slowly becoming more and more familiar to him the more time he had spent around you.

The adeptus was ripped from his hazy reverie as the gentle clink of metal hit the floor, followed almost immediately by those nimble fingers brushing against his hips as they gently began to pull down the last bit of fabric separating his shame from your eyes. His hands twitched with the impulse to shove you away, bitter guilt bordering on panic rising in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He swallowed again, his mouth just as dry as before as his golden eyes sharply watched every movement you made.

“What are you doing to me?” He asked, his normally cool and indifferent tone sinking into a slightly uneven rasp, shamefully hinting at how much you were affecting him.

Xiao felt heat wash over his face as a sweet laugh left your lips, leaving his question unanswered in favor of lowering the dark fabric further and further until his aching cock sprung free of its confines. A gloved hand instinctively lifted to his mouth to suppress the noise that came from him at the feeling, and even worse, the sight of your eyes being locked onto his already achingly hard shaft with such keen interest and fascination. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve been certain you were trying to kill him, what with how his heart was beating so hard it felt like it could burst at any moment. He ripped his eyes away from the painfully sweet sight, that strange flavor spreading across his tongue once more as saliva pooled in his mouth.

This was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be allowing this in the first place! If he allowed you to do this, then all it would serve to do was hurt you in the end, he had no right to be so selfish-

A hitching gasp was ripped from his chest as he felt the softest sensation brush against the head of his cock. Sharp eyes immediately came right back to look down at you, his pupils dilating as he sees you with your lips still pressed to the tender, flushed skin in such a gentle little kiss. His dick twitched from the sweet sight, the motion making his sensitive skin lift away from those soft lips, giving him a brief moment of reprieve before it rested back into place, tapping against your mouth and effectively smearing a bit of the liquid leaking from him on those pretty lips, giving him such a shamefully lewd view that it drew a groan from him, unable to be muffled by his gloved hand.

Seeming to be encouraged by his reaction, he watched as your lips parted, that pretty pink tongue sliding out to lick up the mess he had left behind. A growled curse left him as he felt the sinful desires he’d been fending off came crashing in on him, nearly making his knees buckle under the weight of it. A soft hum of pleasure left your lips, seemingly enjoying his no doubt bitter taste. Surely that was just for show, he immediately assumed, slowly lowering his hand from his blushing face, only to instantaneously be proven wrong by your hands sliding onto his thighs for support as you leaned closer, drawing your warm tongue along his part of his length, lingering at the top to collect the rest of the clear fluid that had leaked out.

His restraint was wearing thin as the hand that had just been on his face now found itself settled on the back of your head, his gloved fingers curling loosely into your hair. Xiao remained silent for a moment, his face caught in a strained expression as he looked down at you, his golden eyes studying you with an intensity that he has found himself unable to hide any longer.

Your name left his lips quietly, the rasp of his voice barely audible above the steady rain coming down outside the open window. He began to card his fingers through your hair before managing his next words. “Do you really want to do this? If you keep going as you are, I may not be able to stop myself.” He warned in that same tone, wishing he had been able to speak louder, but he knew that if he had, it would have only made his voice waver.

Those sweet eyes stayed locked onto his as you processed the question, answering him with a smile and a playful little kiss to his head once more. “Then don’t stop yourself.”

Before he could have much time to comprehend those words, Xiao found himself curling his fingers into your hair with a grunt, nearly becoming winded from the feeling of his cock slowly be enveloped into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. Its not the first time in his long existence that he has experienced such intimate pleasures, but certainly it had been a very, very long time since he had even considered indulging himself in things like this. He’d spent so much of his time convincing himself he held no such desires, but here you were breaking down every wall he’d built with such ease.

Another growling curse left him as he felt his tip hit the back of your mouth, having brought a muffled little gagging noise to his ears. He shivered as the reflex simply made your throat tighten for a moment around the portion of him that had pressed towards your throat. That was enough to make him crack.

He adjusted his hold on your hair, curling his fingers in to maintain a firm, almost painful grip before he began to move, teeth sinking into his lip as he began to shift his hips. Vibrations from the sweet little yelp of surprise ran through his cock, only fueling him further in his aching need. Holding your head in place he couldn’t stop himself from dragging himself in and out along your tongue. Archons, you felt perfect. You let your jaw slack slightly to keep yourself from scraping your teeth along his shaft, encouraging him even more. His other hand, trembling slightly from it all, lifted to your flushed face, gently brushing aside and tucking away some loose hair that had fallen across your forehead, his pace never slowing down as those fingers join his other hand in holding you in place so he can keep you steady.

It was no longer a question of desire for him. He needed you. He needed you now more than ever and he had reached a point where he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He began to push deeper, nudging his dripping head against the back of your mouth again, trying to gain purchase into your throat, but you couldn’t help but gag on his size. He frowned slightly, his eyes locked onto your dazed expression, lips sealed around as much of him as you thought you could take. A quiet grunt, followed by his lowered voice offering soothing words in the best way he could think to. “You can take it. Come on.”

Not the most reassuring thing to say, especially when this was immediately followed by his hands manually adjusting the angle of your head and simply shoving his shaft against your throat again, causing tears to well in those pretty eyes of yours as you gag on it again. Bitter guilt climbs the back of his own throat at the sight, but then he realized that you weren’t backing away at all. If anything, it seemed like you were trying to reach the same goal. Hands on his thighs to steady yourself, lips staying perfectly wrapped around his size, and even more, you kept trying to press closer, clearly seeing what he wanted and trying desperately to help him get there.

He breathed out another curse, the word faltering slightly as it rasped out, his hands grasping harder onto your head as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and harder, fucking into your face until with one slick motion, he pushed past at last, your muscles loosening enough to allow himself to bury himself deep within your throat. Your nose pressed against his skin as he held you there for a moment, savoring the sweet feeling of you taking him in his entirety.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, the sound coming out like a hiss through bared teeth. This… this isn't right. So tight and slick around him, this amount of pleasure shouldn't be granted to someone like him. For a moment, even in his daze of pleasure, Xiao seriously considered pulling out, having become overwhelmed by it all, but then, he saw your eyes. Those pretty eyes that have haunted him far more than he cared to admit were now looking up at him in a way that made his heart nearly stop. Such a soft, overwhelmingly sweet gaze up at him through those long lashes of yours contrasted to the sinful sight of your nose bumping against his body, lips stretched around his aching length. All other thoughts immediately left his mind as he stared down at you with lips parted in awe. He may not deserve even a scrap of this amount of pleasure, but who was he to deny you whose eyes looked so positively needy. Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers more into your hair, drawing a whine of slight pain from you, the sound almost entirely disappearing into his cock as he began to move again, fully intending to be slow and sweet, but perhaps rough desperation was just better suited to his natural bitter nature.

Gloved hands holding you in place he picked up speed, the slick sounds of your mouth and throat being used mingled with the sound of the rain, all of it rushing around to his ears and making his mind melt even more. Archons, he's not even sure how much longer he can last like this. He can see on your face that you're struggling to keep holding your breath but you keep letting him going, not pushing away in the slightest. The feeling of your thumbs lightly digging into his skin as you clung to him for support was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

He nearly growled out his words, wanting to at least warn you, “I think…. ah…. I think I'm at my limit…”

Xiao watched as those long lashes fluttered shut at his words, that sweet gaze disappearing in favor of close eyed focus and fervor, seeming to struggle to do your best to keep going, to hold on as long as you can to bring him over the edge. It drove him insane.

“Xiao!”

He was so lost in the sweet sensation, so close to the edge, he almost didn't hear the voice over the sound of the rain and the slick noises from below and-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Xiao bolted upright in an instant, panting from the adrenaline as he struggled to gain his bearings, the sound of his blood rushing around his ears mingling with the gentle rain outside making his head spin.

He was… alone. And now rather uncomfortable in the sticky aftermath. Bitter guilt spread across his tongue and gripped at his heart, shaking hands reaching up to grab fistfuls of his own hair in frustration. How could he even think about you like that? Sure he was unconscious but he had absolutely no right to defile your sweet visage with something so selfish and wrong. He had no need for such desires. None whatsoever.

But he could hardly even convince himself of that when he realized it was your voice calling his name from the other side of his door, making him wonder with an ache deep in his chest if this was that bittersweet dream manifesting itself before him.

#sunny originals #a little bit of spice #genshin posting #xiao #xiao smut #xiao x reader #gwah i love him he wanted to come home to me so bad he arrived in the singular pull I had alloted for him #posting this before i get too nervous to

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red-viewe · 11 months

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general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)

COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)

Part 2 part 1

"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.

'Ew.'

"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.

The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.

'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.

'Just a few more days until i see them.

Just a few more days....'

----

"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"

"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.

'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '

Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.

'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?

'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.

-----

'Knock knock knock'

'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'

You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.

"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.

'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)

Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.

You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.

"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.

"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.

"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.

"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.

"I swear i can explain-"

-----

"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.

"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"

"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.

"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.

"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."

"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, beastie."

----

Authors notes :D

I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY

Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.

Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)

(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin

@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards

@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr

#twsited wonderland #twst x you #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #general!lilia x reader #lilia x you #red-viewe

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arysbruv · 4 months

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My Sun

Satoru and you had been high school sweethearts, yet after his dispute with Suguru, you had joined the opposing side, leaving Satoru alone to himself and hoping you’d come back and love him again.

pairings: gojo satoru x reader

warnings and whatnots: very short. Angst with a happy ending. Gojo being desperate for you. Not proofread!

Satoru and you stood far apart, your bodies separated yet your hearts intertwined.

Your soul yearned for his. It stung to stand opposing him. It hurt to watch as his eyes fight back tears. It was torture to stand with his best friend as he begged for you to come back for him.

You wanted to run back to him, wipe his tears away and comfort him. Yet, you couldn’t.

You weren’t supposed to be together.

With a heavy heart, and a burden on your shoulder, you turn away from him, walking off to never see him again.

It’s better like this.

This pain will be temporary.

You stared at the ceiling, reliving the memories all over again.

It had been years since the dispute. You wondered if he still thought about you; if he still loves you. You did.

He enveloped your entire being, making his way into your heart and mind, ensuring that you know that he will always be there.

You wished he was still here.

Regret washes over you as you stood up and got ready for another day. You had fought with Suguru a while back and subsequently left his organisation that bordered a cult. Now, you were living your own life, as a private curse exorcist.

You check your phone, there was a commission at a school. You sigh, putting your gear on and leaving your apartment.

Days passed quickly nowadays. Without him, you didn’t find the joy in living anymore. He was your Sun. You sometimes wonder if you were just a Sunflower. You had to face him, to see him, or else your life would be meaningless. It would have no point. You would be left empty.

Within a few minutes, you had arrived at the school, quickly exorcising the curse before leaving to get lunch. You look at your phone, tuning out the world as you ask for your payment.

As you walk, a man watches you. He hadn’t seen you for so long and he almost couldn’t believe it to be you. You looked so different yet he knew it was you.

His eyes, his heart, his soul told him it was you.

Without a second thought, he dropped everything and trailed after you, hoping to see what you were up to. He knew it was wrong. He shouldn’t be following you. It was dangerous, yet his legs betrayed his mind as he continued to follow your movements.

He stalked behind you as you entered the busy street, your bodies furthering from each other.

No.

He couldn’t lose you again.

He calls out to you, knowing his voice would be swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of the crowd forming around you both. Somehow, you had heard it, turning back to him, eyes catching his.

The sight of your eyes made his knees weak. If it weren’t for the crowd that was surrounding the pair of you, he would’ve already fallen on to his knees.

You stop walking, seeing him again. He pushes the crowd away, approaching you with caution but desperation. His moves frantic.

He stands in front of you, towering over your figure. Yet, he felt weak in your presence. Your eyes stare at him, taking in all his features. Was this a trick?

“y/n.” He breathes out. His eyes scanned your body, trying to see if it was really you.

“Satoru…”

Without another word, he wraps his arms around you, his chin naturally finding its place in the crook of your neck, his scent hitting you and causing all the memories to flood back to you.

“Love, please… come back to me.”

You stayed quiet, living in the moment. All your past feelings rushed through your head and heart.

You loved him. You missed him. You needed him.

He sniffles loudly, causing you to pull him in tighter. His body shakes, tears staining your clothes. You fight back your own tears.

“Please, tell me what I need to do, tell me what I need to do for you to stay.” He pulls alway from you, his eyes begging as he holds your hands. “Maybe I was too young to see how much I loved you then, but I am not anymore.”

“Oh Satoru,” You say quietly, pulling him back in. “You don’t need to do anything, love.”

“Will you stay with me? Come home with me?”

You smile softly at him. You watch his pleading eyes as he begs you.

“I will follow you wherever you go, sun.”

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen

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matan4il · 4 months

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Daily update post:

The IDF's spokesman in Arabic, Avichay Adraee, has shared a vid of a rare demonstration by Gazans, where they protest the ruin Hamas has brought on them, and demand for its leader in Gaza, Yahya Sinwar, to releaste the Israeli hostages.

Regarding the 24 Israeli soldiers killed in Gaza the other day, here are the details to the best of my understanding of how 21 of them were killed in one incident (based on reports on Israeli TV). It seems that the soldiers were preparing a couple of multi-floor buildings to be blown up, because these were close enough to the border, that snipers could use them to shoot at Israeli civilians without even crossing over. The soldiers were laying out the explosives, and there was a tank nearby, guarding them. A terrorist squad came out of a terror tunnel shaft that hadn't been located by the soldiers earlier, and fired an anti-tank missile at the buildings, triggering the explosives, which also caused the buildings to collapse. Every soldier who was inside, was killed. That was how 19 soldiers died. It took hours for a search and rescue team to retrieve their bodies from the rubble (including a group of fire fighters who had to be "drafted" in order to allow them into Gaza). The tank recognized the source of the fire, and was turning to shoot back at the terrorists, but they fired an additional anti-tank missile at it, and killed another 2 soldiers. Out of the 24 soldiers killed, 16 were already buried yesterday.

One of them was 35 years old Elkana Wiesel.

He left a last letter to his loved ones: "If you're reading these words, something must have happened to me. First of all, if I have been kidnapped, I demand that you do not release a single terrorist to free me. Our decisive victory is more important than anything else to ensure our safety, so please keep going full force to make our victory as decisive as possible. Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, that's sad. But I'm asking you to be happy. Don't be sad when you say goodbye to me. Sing a lot, nourish each other's hearts, hold each other's hands and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and joyful over, we are a generation of salvation! We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and of the world. So please, be optimistic. Keep choosing life, all the time. A life of love, hope, purity and optimism. Look into the eyes of the people you hold dearest, and remind them that everything we're going through in this life is worth it. That they have a lot to live for. Live! Do not stop the powerfulness of life for a single minute! I was already injured during [Operation] Protective Edge. I had the choice to stay back. But I do not regret for a moment that I returned to being a fighter. On the contrary, this is the best decision I've ever made."

May their memories be a blessing.

A report from South African news site News24 claims the International Court of Justice will publish its decision on SA's request for 9 provisional measures regarding the war in Gaza this Friday (Jan 26). Israel says it has not received any official notification on this. In any case, the ICJ will be publishing its decision by Feb 6 at the latest, because that's when the time of several judges at the ICJ will come to an end.

For the second time this month, Israel has stopped Arabs from East Jerusalem, who identify as ISIS terrorists, from carrying out an attack against Israelis. Another terrorist attack was prevented from taking place yesterday, when the terrorist was eliminated

This is 19 years old Shay Levinson.

He was a star volleyball player, who believed in coexistence, was studying Arabic, and chose to play for the Arab team of a Christian Arab town situated close to his own. Here he is (standing third from the left) with his Arab team when they won the state championship:

Shay was believed to have been kidnapped to Gaza on Oct 7. Here are his Arab coach and team manager with his mom Shlomit Levinson (a volleyball player herself), holding up his hostage poster together:

It was confirmed the other day that Shay was murdered by Hamas on Oct 7, and his body had been kidnapped to Gaza, and is held hostage. His coach Sma'an said: "It's a very hard blow. This is a kid who was a part of our family. Our heart hurts. We're not functioning as a team. We're unfocused, we can't concentrate, training sessions have been canceled. We want to be by the family during these difficult days. We champion coexistence, sports brings hearts closer. Our language is common. We don't care about distinctions like Jews, Arabs, Christians, Muslims."

May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

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Title: Brave [5 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: The journey to Tarrath is not one to be undertaken lightly—there are more things to fear in the untamed places of the world than stags, a lesson you are soon to learn.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy/n AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: 👀

You have been riding since before sunup, and your hips and back ache from long hours spent in the saddle. The pack sets a leisurely pace through the grass sea, meandering through the plain in a loose line. The vast mountains you knew are at your back now, shrinking into misty, faint points. They tell you how far you have come with their distance, and you wonder how many steps you have taken since last you were the person you had been before.

Since you left the woman you were supposed to be by the riverside—and how many more you will have to take to become someone else entirely. Though it has been only a fortnight sine you watched the village burn, it feels like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s memory, someone else’s eyes.

The pack keeps a steady pace until the sun is high in the sky and the mountains are meaningless pinpricks. The land changes too, the flat plains turning into rolling hills that remind you of the cresting waves you have seen painted in books and on tapestries. The only difference is, these don’t come crashing down to drown you, the grass whispering quietly in the breeze.

You ride somewhere in the middle of the line, the pack stretching both before and behind you, riding towards the sun as it begins to sink low in the sky. You can see Steve near the front, his sword strapped between his broad, bare shoulders. Like he can feel your gaze, he turns back, one thick fang hanging over his lip as he grins. You drop your head, your cheeks burning.

Let them see.

When you look up again, he’s gone.

—

Night on the grass sea is beautiful. A thousand thousand stars glow like fireflies caught in tar, stretching out further than you can see into the darkness. The pack does not stop, continuing at the same pace as all light fades, and the moon rises cold and clear. At first, the sheer drop in temperature is enough to keep you awake—without the thick furs and blankets neatly rolled and strapped to your horse, your ripped dress offers less protection against the biting wind. But after a few hours, despite the chill, your eyelids begin to droop heavily, your shoulders dropping as you slump in the saddle.

It is the feel of Steve’s warm hand on your back that wakes you, instantly jolting you into panicked awareness as you turn sharply to glare at him.

“Easy, Sweetmeat,�� he replies. “I mean only to keep you from breaking your neck.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless that is your wish this night.”

You scowl. “No, I—thank you.” The words come haltingly.

“The journey is a long one.” Steve shrugs. “You will learn to sleep in the saddle.”

“Or fall out of it,” you mutter, and he laughs, a loud boisterous sound that carries out into the night.

“You never cease to amuse, Sweetmeat,” he says after a moment, the words still colored with the sound of his mirth. “I wonder what the elders shall make of you.” There is fear at his words, but your curiosity burns just as brightly.

“What is it like?” You ask. “Your city?”

“In your tongue, Tarrath means ‘city at the end of the world’.” You feel your eyes widen in spite of your attempt to keep your features schooled into neutrality. “It was built into the cliffside by my people long ago, before we knew the arbitrary lines your kings drew on their maps.” You gape at him, floundering for words. The maps you know end somewhere out into the grass sea. At their edges, perhaps an orc settlement or two, but mostly… nothing. The impossibly vast mountains and the forests that border them are all you know.

But perhaps the truths you know are not truths at all.

“Have you seen the sea, little one?” You shake your head.

“What does it look like?”

Steve smiles. “Blue. The water is salt to the taste, but so blue. Like… two skies.” He motions with his hands, and you hold the reins tightly as you close your eyes and try to see it. More water than you could possibly imagine, as deep and endless as the sky.

“And the city?” You ask, stifling a yawn.

“There are great towers of red brick with fires at their hearts. And there are not so few men as you might think.”

“Humans?”

“And more.” He nods. “Elves, Dwarves. Children of the world before.”

You begin to slump again as he speaks, but this time Steve doesn’t wake you. He reaches across your lap to grasp the reins in one large hand. He loops them around the horn of his saddle. When you do finally begin to lean over, it is against his warm shoulder.

“You coddle her.” Bucky’s irritated voice doesn’t wake you—the firm hold exhaustion has on you is too heavy to drag your mind back to wakefulness, and you will not remember these words when you do wake again. Steve chuckles.

“I like her.”

—

“Storm’s too thick.” You, and the rest of the pack are crowded around Bucky as he speaks, the horses shifting anxiously in the stillness. You can see it, the band of dark, angry dust stretching across the horizon. You’ve never seen anything like it, like the Gods’ fury given terrible form. When Bucky had set out to scout, it was a pinprick–and now the cloud stretches almost as far as you can see. “We’ll be waiting days for it to pass.”

Steve grimaces, his tusks hanging over his lip as he showcases his displeasure.

“Aye,” he agrees, turning his eyes toward the horizon, eyeing the storm. “We’ll go around.”

“The pass?” There’s a murmur of something like discomfort that passes through the pack. Something like fear. “Gods damn it.” Bucky looks back toward the storm and curses again. “We don’t have the rations to wait it out.” He doesn’t ask—it isn’t a question. And Steve’s grim expression is all the answer you need.

“We’ll put it to a vote. The pass—or the storm.” He turns to the pack. “Those who want to brave the storm, step forward.” Lightning crashes in the distance, and you swallow thickly. By the sound of it, the pass is equally formidable. You recall the stag, it’s hungry jaws and fierce eyes, and wonder what else waits for you on this road—the one you’ve chosen.

After a moment, Steve nods stonily, his expression battle-fierce.

“The pass it is.”

The pack wastes no time reorienting itself, turning west to skirt around the tempest of stinging sand and thunder. Carol rides up beside you, her expression grim.

“Do not think we have chosen the easy road, little human.”

You don’t. “What is the pass?”

“It was a road, once. One that has returned to the sea and the things that live inside it.” Her voice is low, warning. “Men are wise to fear the zikaegina,” she gestures at the endless shifting grass. “It hides many things.”

“Why did you abandon the road?” Carol grimaces, her expression heavy with memories, knowledge you don’t share. Her eyes are dark when they meet yours again.

“Because other things used it too.”

to be continued

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megamindsupremacy · 1 year

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So, way back when I was a wee little cringe nerd (tentatively affectionate), I was absolutely bonkers obsessed with Percy Jackson. I also had basically zero access to the internet and only an extremely vague idea of what fanfiction was, and I definitely wasn't immersed in the fanfiction culture of the time. So that meant whenever I had Thoughts and Ideas, I was writing those fuckers straight into my class notebooks for all the world but especially my teachers to see. That being said, I just remembered my very first ever fanfiction idea, of which I wrote three pages of looseleaf in my seventh-grade social studies class with my best friend in between assignments. Which I will now elaborate on as an Adult because honestly, what else do I have a semi-popular Tumblr blog for?

The basic idea is that, in the Son of Neptune, instead of heading straight for Camp Jupiter, Percy very vaguely remembers that the mysterious Annabeth lives very close by. He skids down the hill next to the Caldecott Tunnel, but instead of crashing into the highway, he lands in the back of a pickup and is carried away by a very panicked+annoyed driver who wants the kid in the back of his truck out.

(Please imagine Frank and Hazel, standing guard, watching some random kid go screaming down the side of a hill on a serving platter while pursued by gorgons, land in a pickup, and, still screaming, swordfight said gorgons. Who get whacked out of the air and run over by a school bus. Can you fucking imagine)

(Please also imagine Juno, waiting invisibly next to the road, also watching Percy go screaming by in a truck. She had been waiting there to give Percy her mysterious "choose safety or your memories" spiel but now he's fucking gone)

The pickup driver pulls over to the side of the road near the bay and tells Percy to get the fuck out of the back of his car. Percy, seeing the gorgons in hot pursuit in the distance, makes the logical move and jumps straight into the bay. He lets instincts and muscle memory guide him to the edge of one of those fancy neighborhoods that border the edge of the water. He continues following muscle memory and instincts and ends up at Annabeth's house, and he knocks on the door.

Fredrick, opening the door: Percy Jackson??

Percy: ...who are you

Fredrick: you exploded my car four years ago! my daughter has been looking for you for months. ANNABETH COME DOWNSTAIRS I FOUND YOUR BOYFRIEND

Percy: HUH WHAT

Annabeth gives him a flying tackle hug and Percy is 60% confused, 40% relieved because finally this is someone he remembers. Annabeth starts talking about how they need to get Percy to CHB stat, everyone is so worried about him, they knew Jason had had amnesia but it had been so long they weren't sure if Percy was still alive, etc etc,

Percy is nodding along in confusion and pretending he knows wtf she's talking about.

Juno appears in the Chase house. She's mad as hell that a) percy isn't already in Camp Jupiter and b) he's with Annabeth (derogatory). She teleports Percy straight into CJ but Annabeth manages to hang onto him and come with.

They land on the near side of the Little Tiber, where Frank and Hazel are reporting on the weird screaming demigod in a pickup that had gone by twenty minutes ago. Juno realizes she accidentally brought Annabeth along and is Very Unhappy about this.

"Romans, I bring to you the Son of Neptune-" ("I'm the son of a planet?" Percy muttered). "For months he has been slumbering [etc]. Instruct him in your ways, induct him into your legion. As for the daughter of Minerva…” The Romans gasped, staring at Annabeth. Juno curled her lip, shooting an icy look at the girl. Annabeth snarled wordlessly in response. “She is extraneous. Do with her what you will.”

Juno disappeared

More will be added in the reblog

#mads posts #pjo #he goes left AU #titled off of my 7th grade mental map of Berkley where annabeth's house is left of the tunnel #this is almost definitely inaccurate but i'm attached to the name now #percy jackson #annabeth chase #son of neptune #heroes of olympus #riordanverse #is that all idk #go crazy send asks abt this apparently i have more lore in me than I realized #although. i have literally no plot past SoN. the plot of HoO doesn't change after this book unless i start making big radical changes I #don't feel like making #<- HA. …ha. fuck. anyways there’s more in the notes #there’s a fic now in the notes too

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lila-lou · 29 days

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✨ His only exception - Pt. 25/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, hurt, soft Ben, Ben gets hurt

Word Count: 7384

A/N: This is part 25 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the days passed and you called in sick for the entire week at Vought, Ben couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a major mistake. Each day weighed heavily on him, his mind consumed by thoughts of you and the uncertain future of your relationship. He knew he had messed up, and the realization gnawed at him with each passing moment.

He tried his best not to pressure you, but every damn second without you felt like hell on earth. He missed you. And it took all of his strength to give you the space you needed.

Still, it drove him crazy. His emotions were like a whirlwind rushing up and down within him several times a day. He could hardly control himself. His chest began to glow again and again, his vision blurred and his heart began to race. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was lovesick. Heartbreak is hard for normal people, but it's even worse for America's first superhero with this past and newfound powers.

He didn't have much choice but to throw himself headfirst into work.

So as Ben continued to make sweeping changes at Vought, you found yourself confined to your hotel room, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Despite the turmoil within you, Ben's constant messages provided a small comfort. His updates on Vought's developments and the occasional meme brought a fleeting smile to your face, but deep down, you longed for more.

With each passing day, you hoped that Ben would take the next step, that he would finally express his feelings for you in a more definitive way. Yet, as the week wore on, his messages remained friendly and casual, lacking the depth and commitment you yearned for. The uncertainty of where you stood with him only added to the turmoil in your heart.

As Ben navigated the complex web of corporate politics and power struggles at Vought, his thoughts were consumed by one thing: you. Amidst the chaos and pressure of his new role, he couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gnawed at him relentlessly. Every decision he made, every move he orchestrated, was driven by the desire to exert control in a world where uncertainty loomed large.

He missed you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. Your voice echoed in his mind, your scent lingered in the air, and the memory of your touch haunted him at every turn. Despite the distractions and demands of his new position, you were never far from his thoughts. Each passing moment only served to deepen his longing for you, leaving him yearning for the day when he could hold you in his arms once more.

As Monday arrived, you found yourself steeling your nerves as you stepped back into Vought. Taking your seat next to Jay, his gaze fixed on you, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Your eyes were red and puffy, evidence of the sleepless night spent grappling with your emotions. Dark circles underscored your exhaustion, a testament to the turmoil that had consumed you in recent days.

Despite the emotional upheaval, you hadn't officially ended things with Jay. The weight of that unresolved tension hung heavy in the air, adding to the unease that settled over you as you braced yourself for another day without Ben.

Jay turned more towards you, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Hey", he said softly, his voice laced with genuine worry. "You look… rough. Are you okay? Care to explain what's been going on?".

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. Jay had been there for you during some tough times, but the truth of your feelings for Ben weighed heavily on your conscience. Taking a deep breath, you prepared to navigate the delicate balance between honesty and discretion.

Tears welled up in your eyes once more as you struggled to find the right words. "Jay, I'm so sorry", you began, your voice wavering with emotion. "You don't deserve any of this. It's not you; it's me. I'm the problem, not you".

Your heart ached with guilt as you admitted the truth, knowing that Jay had been nothing but supportive and caring throughout your tumultuous relationship.

Jay's heart sank as he saw you in distress, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a comforting embrace. His arms enveloped you, offering solace and support in your moment of vulnerability. Despite the pain he felt knowing you were hurting, his love for you remained unwavering.

As the usual chatter from your colleagues ceased, you opened your eyes, your gaze meeting Ben's imposing figure clad in his supe suit as he stood in your office doorway. The room fell silent, the weight of his presence palpable as all eyes turned to him.

His gaze was fixed solely on you, and you felt a knot form in your stomach as you instantly withdrew from Jay's embrace. Ben's presence filled the room, his eyes narrowing as he spoke with firmness in his tone.

"I need you in my office. Now", he commanded, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, radiating an aura of unmistakable anger.

As you rose to your feet, the eyes of your colleagues, including Jay's, followed you and Ben as you made your way towards the elevators. It was unusual to see Ben on this floor, and the attention from everyone around you only added to the tension in the air. The silence seemed to weigh heavily as you entered the elevator with Ben, the gazes of your coworkers lingering on you both as the doors closed.

Ben turned towards you, his expression fierce as he spoke loudly, his voice echoing in the confined space of the elevator.

"That's why you fucking left me?!", he exclaimed, his words filled with anger and hurt.

But Ben's outburst caught you off guard, and you realized he had misunderstood the situation completely. You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could utter a word, the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at Ben's office floor.

As soon as you entered the office, Ben slammed the doors shut behind you, his anger palpable in the tense atmosphere.

"I should go back down and fucking kill him!", he yelled, his voice booming with rage as he paced back and forth in front of you. His fists were still clenched tightly at his sides, his whole body vibrating with fury.

You watched him, a mixture of fear and sadness swirling inside you. "Ben, please, calm down", you pleaded, your voice trembling slightly. "It's not what you think".

Ben's anger simmered as he locked eyes with you. "Then what is it, huh?", he demanded, his voice edged with frustration. "Why did you fucking leave me?".

As you stood there, feeling small and hurt in front of Soldier Boy, you couldn't help but notice the turmoil in his eyes, despite his efforts to hold back his emotions. With a trembling voice, you yelled back at him, "I didn't leave you, Ben! You pushed me away!".

Ben's jaw clenched as he struggled to process your words. "How the fuck did I push you away?", he retorted, his voice rising with frustration. "I've been doing everything I can to make things right, to show you how much I care about you!".

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Buying a house without even talking to me about it, Ben", you replied, your voice shaking with emotion. "That's not showing me you care. It's making decisions for both of us without considering how I feel".

"I just wanted to give you something", he admitted, his voice more quiet now. "Something that would make you happy. A Home".

You took a step closer, the tension between you slowly dissipating. "I know", you replied. "But sometimes, it's not about the grand gestures. It's about the little things… like communication and honesty".

He met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and determination. "I messed up, didn't I?", he asked, his voice tinged with regret.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to express your true feelings. "Being with you is all I want, Ben", you began, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "But I need more than… a house. I need your commitment. I can't keep doing this uncertainty, wondering where we stand".

You met his gaze, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. "I want to hear you say that you love me, Ben", you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "The way I love you".

But instead of the reassurance you longed for, Ben remained silent, his expression conflicted as he processed your words. It was clear that he still wasn't ready to open up completely, leaving you feeling a familiar ache of disappointment in your heart.

“I need to know where we stand, Ben”, you urged, your voice tinged with desperation. “I can’t keep living in this limbo, not knowing if you’re truly committed to me”.

Ben sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you, you know that”, he said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m not good at this… at relationships, at opening up”.

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness at his words, the realization sinking in that he still wasn’t willing to give you the commitment you needed. But despite your disappointment, you knew that pushing him further would only drive him away.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt both of you. “I’m here for you, Ben”, you began. “I want to support you and be there for you, but… as long as you can’t decide if you love me or not, we can’t be anything more than friends”.

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, and you could see the pain flicker across Ben’s face as he processed what you had just said. It was clear that your words had struck a chord with him, stirring something deep within his heart.

Ben stood there in silence, his gaze fixed on the ground as he grappled with the weight of your words. His heart felt heavy in his chest, aching with a pain he couldn't quite articulate. Despite his efforts to hold back his emotions, tears welled up in his eyes, betraying the turmoil raging within him.

He wanted to reach out to you, to tell you how much you meant to him, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the fear of rejection and the uncertainty of his own feelings. In that moment, he felt more lost and vulnerable than he ever had before.

As you stood there, watching him, he knew that he had to confront his own demons before he could ever hope to give you the love and commitment you deserved. But for now, all he could do was stand there in silence, his heart breaking with every passing moment.

Overwhelmed by your own emotions, you stumbled out of Ben's office, tears streaming down your face as you rushed toward the nearest restroom. Your chest felt tight, suffocated by the weight of disappointment and heartache. You said the words so clearly, but you also broke your own heart.

As you reached the sanctuary of the restroom, you barely made it to a stall before the overwhelming wave of emotions crashed over you. Bent over the toilet, tears mixing with the bile rising in your throat, you retched violently, your body convulsing with each heave.

It felt like an eternity before the nausea subsided, leaving you trembling and exhausted. With shaky hands, you wiped away the tears and splashed some water on your face, trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

As you made your way back to your desk, you could feel the weight of your emotions still pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The concerned glances from your colleagues only served to exacerbate your sense of vulnerability, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet their eyes. They thought Soldier Boy screwed you over a mistake.

Jay, however, was different. He could see past the facade. As you took your seat beside him, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand in a silent gesture of support.

You managed a weak smile in response, grateful for his understanding.

Jay's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he leaned in closer to you. "Are you okay?", he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I'll be fine", you replied, your voice wavering slightly. "Just… dealing with some stuff".

His brow furrowed with worry as he continued, his tone gentle. "Is it… Is Soldier Boy the guy you told me about? The one you were trying to get over?".

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal, but ultimately decided to be honest with him. "Yeah", you admitted quietly, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging Jay more into your personal drama.

Jay’s voice was sympathetic as he spoke, his expression reflecting his concern. “Soldier Boy… he’s a big deal, huh?”, he mumbled, shaking his head slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… complicated”, you replied, a hint of sadness in your voice as you thought about Ben’s tumultuous emotions.

Jay sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor as he mumbled, “Well, against him, it was predictable that I’d lose you”.

You felt a pang of guilt at his words.

“I’m sorry, Jay”, you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I never meant to hurt you”.

Jay looked up, offering you a small, sad smile. “It’s okay”, he replied, his voice tinged with resignation.

You took a deep breath. "Jay, when I started dating you, I thought Ben was dead", you confessed quietly. "I never expected to see him again, and I needed someone to help me move on. I didn't mean to lead you on or hurt you in any way".

Jay's expression softened slightly. "I get it", he replied. "It must have been hard for you, thinking he was gone".

"It was", you admitted, a hint of sadness creeping into your voice. "But that's no excuse for hurting you. I should have been honest with you from the beginning".

"It's okay", he reassured you. "I'm just glad you're okay and that we can still be friends".

You offered him a small, grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Jay", you said sincerely. "For being so understanding".

With that, the tension between you eased slightly, and you both turned your attention back to your work. You had to distract yourself from Ben somehow.

Another week passed, each day dragging on for Ben as he grappled with the overwhelming guilt and sadness that consumed him. He found himself unable to sleep, lying awake in bed for hours on end, tormented by thoughts of you and the way he had pushed you away.

His appetite disappeared, the thought of food turning his stomach as he wrestled with the emptiness that seemed to gnaw at his insides. Even his usual distractions, like spending time with prostitutes or engaging in reckless behavior, held no appeal for him. All he could think about was you, and how he had let you slip through his fingers.

It didn't even matter to him that Butcher still hadn't handed over Homelander. Normally, that would have consumed his thoughts and driven him to take action, but now it seemed insignificant compared to the ache in his heart.

Every day felt like an eternity, each moment stretching on endlessly as he grappled with the consequences of his actions. He knew he had to make things right with you, but he couldn't shake the fear that it might already be too late.

For you, that week felt like a never-ending nightmare. The pain of being apart from Ben weighed heavily on your heart, leaving you feeling hollow and empty. Each day was a struggle to get out of bed, plagued by also sleepless nights and a loss of appetite.

You couldn't shake the feeling of nausea that seemed to accompany every thought of Ben, and there were moments when you found yourself rushing to the bathroom, overcome by waves of sickness. It was as if your body was rebelling against the turmoil in your mind, unable to handle the emotional strain you were under.

The thought of Ben being unable to commit to you gnawed at you, filling you with a sense of insecurity and fear. You needed him to be with you, to reassure you that you were the only one for him, but the uncertainty of his feelings left you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Despite the overwhelming longing you felt for him, there was a part of you that feared what would happen if you let him back into your life.

Each day dragged on, the minutes ticking by slowly as you waited for some sign from Ben that he still cared.

As Monday unfolded, it felt like just another day, despite being your birthday.

The office buzzed with its usual energy, oblivious to the significance of the date for you. Your family called, and a few old friends sent text messages, but beyond that, there were no grand gestures or celebrations.

Sitting at your desk, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness amidst the routine of the day. It wasn’t the lack of gifts or attention that bothered you, but rather the absence of someone special to share the moment with.

On your lunch break, you sat on a bench at the park near vought and munched on your salad, as someone sat down besides you. It was frenchie. You haven’t talked to him in over three weeks since you were still mad.

“Hey”, Frenchie said softly, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation.

You glanced over, surprised to see him there. “Hey”, you replied, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Frenchie spoke again. “I… I know we haven’t talked in a while. And I understand if you’re still upset about what happened with Soldier Boy… But I just wanted to say… I miss our conversations”.

You sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “I miss them too”, you admitted, unable to deny the truth of his words.

Frenchie hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, wrapped package. "I almost forgot", he said, his voice softer now. "Happy birthday".

Your eyes widened in surprise as you accepted the gift, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "Thank you", you murmured, touched by the unexpected gesture and the fact he remembered your birthday.

Carefully, you unwrapped the package to reveal your necklace, the one that had broken during your first fight against Homelander a year ago. But now, it looked as good as new, thanks to Frenchie's repairs.

You looked up at him, speechless for a moment. "You fixed it", you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Frenchie nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I remembered how much it meant to you", he admitted. "And I wanted to make things right… to, kinda unbreak the broken", he smiled.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to hug him, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you", you said again, your voice choked with emotion.

As you released him from the embrace, Frenchie stood up. "I have to go", he said, his voice tinged with regret. "But I hope… I hope you'll still reach out to me, even if you don't want to talk to the rest of the team".

You nodded. "I will", you promised, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you, Frenchie, for everything".

He offered you a small, reassuring smile before turning to leave, his footsteps fading away as he walked out of the park.

As you sat alone on the bench again, the necklace clutched in your hand, you thought that perhaps, with time, wounds could heal, and bonds could be strengthened once more.

With a sigh, you glanced around the empty office a few hours later, the silence weighing heavily on your shoulders. Everyone had gone home for the day, leaving you to grapple with your own thoughts and emotions.

As you gathered your things and prepared to leave, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness gnawing at your heart. The emptiness of the office seemed to amplify the sense of isolation you had been grappling with all day.

Closing your laptop and shutting down your workstation, you took one last look around the office before finally making your way to the elevators.

Feeling another sudden wave of nausea, you stumbled back from your desk, clutching your stomach as you fought to keep your composure. The queasiness intensified with each passing moment, leaving you feeling weak and unsteady on your feet.

Frantically, you searched for the restroom, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to keep the contents of your stomach at bay. Every step felt like a monumental effort, the urge to vomit growing stronger with each passing moment.

Finally reaching the restroom, you barely made it to a stall before retching uncontrollably into the toilet.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea finally passed, leaving you feeling weak and shaky. Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the floor, rinsing your mouth and splashing water on your face in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure.

As you leaned against the sink, trying to steady your breathing, you couldn't shake the nagging worry that lingered in the back of your mind. Something wasn't right, and you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that this was just the beginning of something much more serious.

With each step back to your hotel, the weight of loneliness grew heavier, the absence of Ben a constant ache in your heart.

As you walked through the streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that seemed to engulf you. The city buzzed with life around you, but you felt disconnected, lost.

You missed Ben more than ever, but deep down, you knew that staying with him wouldn’t have solved the ache in your heart.

As you finally reached your hotel room, you closed the door behind you, enveloped once again in the silence of solitude.

Your heart raced as you scanned the room, the scent of Ben´s cologne hung in the air. It was both comforting and agonizing, stirring up emotions you had been trying to suppress.

With a shaky breath, you approached the spot where the scent seemed strongest, as if hoping to find some trace of him left behind.

As you stood there, grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling inside you, a sense of sadness washed over you. It was a stark reminder of just how quickly things could change, how the presence of someone you loved could vanish in an instant.

Just then, you spotted a little box on the bed.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the small box sitting on the bed, your heart pounding in your chest with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. With trembling fingers, you carefully unwrapped the neatly wrapped package, revealing a key and a folded note nestled inside.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read the simple message scrawled on the note: “Happy birthday, it’s all yours”.

For a moment, you were overcome with confusion, unable to comprehend the significance of the key and the cryptic message. But then it dawned on you, a sudden rush of realization flooding through you like a tidal wave.

The house.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with a mixture of emotions. Tears welled up in your eyes once again, and you cursed at yourself for allowing them to fall, for allowing Ben’s actions to have such power over your heart.

But more than anything, you cursed at Ben, for being unable to simply tell you that he loved you, for leaving you to decipher his feelings through cryptic gestures and hidden messages.

With a shaky breath, you wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks, feeling a surge of anger bubbling up inside you. How could he have been so cowardly, so unwilling to confront his own emotions and share them with you?

The weight of his absence felt heavier than ever.

Despite the anger and frustration simmering within you, a part of you couldn't help but long for his comforting embrace, his reassuring presence by your side.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, tempted to reach out to him, to confront him about his cowardice and demand answers for his actions. But as quickly as the impulse arose, you pushed it aside, knowing deep down that reaching out to him would only prolonging the pain and heartache.

Instead, you found yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering back to the realization that Ben had known your birthday without ever needing to ask.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone aside, knowing that dwelling on the past would only bring more pain. But even as you tried to push aside the longing for his presence, you couldn't shake the yearning for him to be there with you, to hold you close and chase away the loneliness that threatened to consume you.

In the silence of the empty hotel room, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, a moment to admit to yourself that despite everything, you still wished he was there with you.

Glancing at the clock, you realized that it wasn't terribly late. Yet, the weight of the day's events and the absence of anyone to celebrate your birthday with left you feeling drained and disheartened.

With a heavy sigh, you made the decision to retreat to bed, seeking solace in the embrace of sleep. The thought of spending any more time alone with your thoughts seemed unbearable, and the prospect of facing another moment of loneliness was too much to bear.

As you slipped beneath the covers, exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, pulling you into the embrace of darkness. Closing your eyes, you sought refuge from your emotions that threatened to overwhelm you, hoping that sleep would offer some respite from the ache in your heart.

With each passing moment, the world around you faded into oblivion, and for a brief moment, you found a fleeting sense of peace.

Ben's footsteps were silent as he entered your room a few hours later, the weight of his actions heavy on his mind. The dim moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your sleeping form.

Standing by the bed, Ben's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Guilt, remorse, and an overwhelming longing to see you filled him as he watched you sleep peacefully. He needed to be near you, to see you, even if only for a moment.

Quietly, he approached the bed, his gaze fixed on you. His hand hovered over yours, tempted to reach out and touch you, but he hesitated, unsure if his presence would only cause you more pain.

For a moment, he simply stood there, lost in the sight of you, the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed softly. Despite the mistakes he had made, he couldn't deny what he felt for you.

With a heavy heart, Ben finally turned to leave, knowing that now was not the time for reconciliation. You needed your rest, and he needed to find a way to make things right, to prove to you that he was capable of change.

As you stood in the office kitchen the next day, filling up a glass of water, you were startled by the sound of the door closing behind you. Turning around, you found yourself face to face with Ben, his presence unexpected yet undeniable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable as you met each other's gaze. It was as if the weight of everything that had transpired hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the space between you.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his voice quiet yet filled with emotion. "I couldn't stay away", he admitted, his words carrying the weight of his remorse and longing.

You regarded him warily, unsure of how to respond to his sudden appearance.

With a sigh, you set the glass of water aside, turning to face him fully. "What do you want, Ben?", you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and vulnerability.

"I know I messed up, but I fucking need you (y/n). Only you, okay?".

His words hung in the air between you, the weight of his sincerity and determination evident in every syllable.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again as you listened to Ben’s earnest plea. His words tugged at your heartstrings, igniting a glimmer of hope within you, but beneath the surface, there lingered a deep-seated pain that refused to be ignored.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Ben’s gaze, your voice trembling with emotion. “Ben, I… I want to believe you”, you began, your words halting as you struggled to find the right ones. “But until you can’t even say you’re sorry, I can’t do this. I need more than just empty promises. I need you to let me in, to show me your emotions, to tell me what you truly feel”.

Ben’s expression faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he searched for the right response.

As Ben's expression faltered, you could sense the struggle within him, the conflict between his desire to make things right and his inability to express his emotions openly. His uncertainty mirrored your own.

Instead of addressing your plea for him to confront his feelings, Ben's voice wavered as he spoke, his words a clumsy attempt to change the subject. "Did you… Did you get my present?", he asked, his tone hesitant, his eyes flickering with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

His question caught you off guard, a sharp contrast to the weighty conversation you had been having just moments before. The sudden shift in focus left you feeling disoriented, unsure of how to respond to his attempt at diversion.

Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I did", you replied, your words tinged with a hint of sadness.

Ben's gaze softened, his heart aching to touch you, to wipe away your tears and ease the pain he had caused. But despite his longing, he remained rooted in place, unable to bridge the emotional distance that separated you.

For a moment, silence enveloped you both, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Unable to resist the pull of his emotions any longer, he reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was tender, his thumb brushing away the tears that stained your cheeks.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. But as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you sensed a shift in his demeanor, a sudden realization dawning in his eyes.

"Hey", he murmured softly, his voice tinged with curiosity as he studied your face intently. "You smell… kinda funny… minty".

His words caught you off guard, the unexpected observation pulling you out of the emotional haze that had enveloped you. You blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond to his comment.

Beneath the surface, however, Ben's mind raced with a flurry of thoughts and memories, his senses suddenly overwhelmed by the familiar scent that clung to you. It was a scent he knew all too well.

Confusion clouded your expression as you pulled back slightly from Ben's touch, his words leaving you bewildered.

"Ben, what are you talking about?", you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.

Ben's expression softened. "I don't know", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "It's just… familiar, somehow. Your scent".

Before you could press him for more answers, a sudden thought crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but voice it.

"When was the last time you slept, Ben?", you asked, your concern evident in your voice. "You look exhausted".

Ben's response was a shrug. "I don't fucking know", he rolled his eyes. "Maybe Monday, maybe Sunday".

The admission sent a pang of worry through you, the realization of just how much Ben had been struggling weighing heavily on your heart.

Ben sighed deeply, a sense of resignation settling over him as he realized that his attempts to reconnect with you were falling short. Despite his longing for reconciliation, he knew that he wouldn’t get anywhere with you in his current state.

“Just to go to the fucking house. It’s safer for you to stay there”.

You swallowed hard. With a resigned nod, you acknowledged the urgency in his plea, understanding that there was more at stake than just your fractured relationship.

"Okay", you murmured softly. "I'll go to the house".

As you turned to leave the kitchen, a surge of concern washed over you, prompted by the weary exhaustion etched into Ben's features. Despite the tension between you, a part of you couldn't ignore the worry gnawing at your conscience, the need to ensure his well-being outweighing the hurt you felt.

But before you could voice your concern, you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Instead, you simply met Ben's gaze, your eyes reflecting the depth of your concern.

"You need to sleep, Ben", you said gently, your voice filled with quiet insistence. "Take care of yourself."

With that, you turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

With the day's work behind you and Ben's plea echoing in your mind, you made your way to the hotel lobby, your bag slung over your shoulder. The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on your shoulders as you prepared to face whatever awaited you at your old apartment.

Exiting the hotel, you hailed a cab and directed the driver to take you to your former residence. The familiar sights and sounds of the city passed by in a blur as you rode in silence, your thoughts consumed by the events of the day.

As the cab pulled up outside your old apartment building, you sighed. Gathering your resolve, you stepped out onto the sidewalk and made your way inside.

The familiar corridors felt strangely empty as you made your way to your former apartment, the silence broken only by the echo of your footsteps. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside.

With a heavy heart, you began the task of packing up the remainder of your belongings. As you worked, the hours slipped away, the sun sinking lower in the sky with each passing moment.

Finally, as the last box was packed and your car loaded with your belongings, you took one last look around your empty room.

With a deep breath, you closed the door behind you and made your way to your car.

As you stepped outside, your thoughts consumed by the events of the day, you were startled to see Annie and Hughie walking towards you. Their unexpected presence caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but tense up as they approached.

“Hey”, Hughie greeted, his voice hesitant as he met your gaze. “Are you… Are you moving out of the apartment?”

You nodded tersely, the tension between you palpable. The rift between you and the team had grown too wide to ignore, and staying in the apartment no longer felt like an option.

“Yeah”, you replied shortly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “I am”.

Annie’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she regarded you. “Is everything okay?”, she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to them.

“I’m fine”, you replied curtly, the words coming out sharper than intended. “Just… Just need some space”.

Annie took a step closer, her eyes reflecting a mix of regret and sincerity. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for lying to you", she began, her voice soft with remorse. "We never meant to hurt you".

But despite her apology, you couldn't bring yourself to accept it.

"I appreciate the apology, Annie", you replied coldly. "But sorry doesn't change what happened. It doesn't erase the fact that you lied to me, that you betrayed my trust".

Annie's expression fell, a sense of helplessness creeping into her features as she realized the depth of your pain. "I know", she whispered. "And I understand if you can't forgive us. But please know that I never meant to hurt you".

You met her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. Despite the bitterness that still lingered within you, a part of you couldn't help but acknowledge the sincerity in her eyes. But even as you stood there, grappling with conflicting emotions, you knew that forgiveness wouldn't come easily, if it came at all.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Annie and Hughie, your resolve firm as you made your way to your car.

With a heavy heart and a sense of determination, you drove towards the house Ben had urged you to go to. As you parked your car in front of the residence, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. But despite the apprehension that gnawed at your insides, you knew that staying here was the safest option for now.

Gathering your belongings, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the front door. The key that Ben had given you felt heavy in your hand as you unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The house was quiet. But as you walked through the rooms, a sense of calm settled over you. This was your sanctuary now, a place where you could find solace amidst the chaos that had consumed your life.

With a determined sigh, you began to unpack your belongings, each item finding its place in this new, unfamiliar space.

This was your new beginning, a chance to rebuild and redefine.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you found a big birthday cake on the table, together with another little box.

Surprised by the sight, you approached the table slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of curiosity. The birthday cake stood proudly in the center.

Next to the cake sat a small box, meticulously wrapped in beautiful paper adorned with a delicate bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out to pick it up.

Carefully, you began to unwrap the package, your breath catching in your throat as you revealed the contents within.

As you peeled away the layers of wrapping paper, your breath caught in your throat as you beheld the contents of the box. Nestled within was a delicate necklace, its design exquisite and adorned with intricate details.

Your fingers traced the smooth curves of the pendant, marveling at the craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. A diamond “S” adorned the back, while a majestic eagle with sparkling diamonds adorned the front.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you couldn’t help but feel a sense of amusement at Ben’s choice of design. The symbolism was not lost on you - the “S” representing his name as a supe, and the eagle, a nod to Ben’s supe suit. It was his way of showing that you still belonged to him.

With a gentle sigh, you fastened the necklace around your neck, the cool metal resting against your skin like a reassuring embrace.

With the necklace now adorning your neck, you took out your phone. Your fingers hovering over the screen as you composed a text to Ben.

"Thank you for the beautiful necklace", you typed. "It's stunning, and I truly appreciate the thought behind it".

With a deep breath, you hit send, the message disappearing into the digital ether as you waited for a response. The seconds stretched into minutes, the silence of the house enveloping you as you anxiously awaited Ben's reply.

Finally, a notification chimed, signaling a new message. You eagerly opened it, your heart racing with anticipation.

Ben's response was swift.

"I'm glad you liked it", he wrote. "I hope there was a little smile on that beautiful lips of yours, even if just for a moment".

A pang of longing washed over you at his words. With a sigh, you set your phone down.

An hour later you were sitting on the bed, your heart skipping a beat when you received another text from Ben. The words "I miss you" illuminated on your phone screen. It was a simple phrase, but it carried a weight of emotion that left you breathless.

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, the gravity of Ben's admission sinking in. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings since the rift between you had formed, and it left you feeling both vulnerable and hopeful.

With trembling fingers, you typed out a response, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the right words.

"I miss you too", you wrote, the words spilling from you with a sense of raw honesty. "More than you know".

As you hit send, a sense of anticipation washed over you, mingled with a tinge of apprehension. The silence that followed was almost palpable, the weight of Ben's response hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Finally, a notification chimed. With bated breath, you opened it, your heart racing.

Ben's words were filled with vulnerability and longing, a glimpse into the depths of his emotions that he had kept hidden for so long.

“I know I’m not good with words”, he wrote. “But I want you to know that I’m trying, for you. I want to be better, to be the man you deserve”.

Your heart swelled with a mix of emotions as you read his message, the weight of his admission weighing heavily on your mind. Despite the hurt and frustration that had led to your decision to take a break, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope.

"I hope so", you typed, your fingers hesitating over the screen before hitting send. It was a simple response, but it carried the weight of your uncertainty and longing.

As you awaited Ben's reply, another wave of nausea washed over you, causing your stomach to churn with discomfort. With a sense of urgency, you set your phone down and hurried to the bathroom, the overwhelming sensation of sickness threatening to overtake you.

Barely making it to the toilet in time, you doubled over in nausea, your body wracked with involuntary spasms. It was a stark reminder of the physical toll that the emotional turmoil had taken on you, a manifestation of the stress and uncertainty that had consumed your life in recent days.

As you struggled to regain your composure, a sense of frustration washed over you, mingled with a deep-seated exhaustion.

———————————

A/N: Well, that was definitely not my favorite chapter and I found it extremely difficult to write it… but I'm looking forward to the next chapters. Stay tuned! Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 26

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction

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arting-block · 7 months

Note

I absolutely love your writing style & your 11th doctor fics 😊 I’m not sure what your opinions on writing poly ships are, but I’m a sucker for some fem reader x 11 and River, and was wondering if i could request something fluffy and sweet with reader thinking her feelings towards the both of them are unrequited due to River and the Doctor being together already, but of course relationships with the Doctors can always be so complicated so who says he has to love just one woman at a time, he’s got two hands for a reason 🙏❤️

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | Eleventh Doctor x F!Reader x River Song

❝𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.❞

Summary: You were just a companion, a friend to the two Time Lords. At least, you thought you were.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (not really lol), fluffy ending

Words: 6.1K

A/N: I'M ALIVE!!! This request sat in my inbox and I struggled a bit to not turn this into a fully fleshed out story. I swear this was meant to be a smol lil blurb, your honor. I sneezed and then 5k spat onto my screen idk it just happened I swear...Anyways, gonna try to get to my other requests soon 🫡

Ordinary is not in your vocabulary. Nothing in your life ever seemed ordinary the moment the Doctor offered an adventure in his bigger-on-the-inside box and a devilish smile. No one normal would have given their safety in exchange for life-threatening altercations with aliens, monsters, and the worst of the universe. You hated the ordinary, despised the monotony of everyday life.

You took the Doctor’s offer with a smile of your own, delight and mischief to complement.

Everything was going well as far as you were concerned. Lives were saved, memories were made, and all the time in the world to do whatever. You were happy, plain and simple.

You embraced the unknown, thanks to the Doctor’s influence. Comfortable with the odd and unthinkable.

At least you thought you were.

With each adventure comes injuries. Most are minimal that heal in a matter of days. Others leave scars that are forever etched in your skin. Being the self-sacrificing stubborn human you were, you often became a shield to those in need. In this particular case you had gotten slashed by a knife in a tussle.

It wasn’t deep enough to be fatal, but it stretched from your collarbone to the side of your neck. Thin line of crimson and a sharp sting when air hit it. Annoying, yes, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

Your traveling companion had a different view.

You groan, “I’m fine, seriously. There’s no need to fuss over a scratch.”

River, beautiful as she is stubborn, gives you a pointed look. One that borders a withering stare but since you’re you it comes off as scolding.

“You nearly had your head off your shoulders. You’re lucky I was there to intervene,” came her grumbling response.

Her fingers find your chin to tilt your head up, her face out of your line of sight as you stare up at the ceiling. You take the opportunity to roll your eyes at her need to coddle you. You’re a grown woman for Christ’s sake, perfectly capable of handling yourself. If anything you’ve encountered worse and had bounced back fine.

Sure, the knife of your attacker came a tad too close to the artery on your neck. Hell, maybe if your reflexes didn’t kick in fast enough you would’ve had a much different night to spend.

But those hypothetical scenarios were merely that. Hypothetical. You’ve walked away that fight with bruised knuckles and a shallow, 4 inch cut.

You were fine. Perfectly capable of handling yourself—

River’s finger finds the hollow of your throat.

Feather-light, just barely touching the skin. You feel her touch up along your neck sending a chill down your spine. Your breath hitched when it stopped just above your pulse point. Something tugs the strings in your chest.

A dangerous feeling coils down in your core.

River’s breath tickles your ear, “Breathe, darling. Can’t have you passing out on me.”

As if on command, your body responds eagerly. You force air to leave your lungs all at once. There’s a slight burn left behind and you're sure it’s not due to your withholding oxygen.

You clear your throat, “Are you going to patch me up Doctor Song?”

It comes off shaky and quiet.

River’s hand leaves your face and you can finally see her. A curve of a smile and a glint in her eyes that leaves goosebumps.

Your legs involuntarily shift close.

River gives a shrug, “You’re right, just a scratch. No need for fussing. Unless you want me to patch you up?”

You shake your head, “N-No, there’s no need. Thank you for offering though.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest. Regret.

River nods understandably, “I’ll be out of your hair then. Give a shout if you need me.”

You watch as she turns to leave. You can’t help but trace the curve of her hips as she approaches the door. Words clump in your throat, an impulse of a thought racing. Before you can act she crosses the threshold, the door closing behind her.

Somehow it stung more than the 4 inch cut on your throat.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

— — —

You tried to put the encounter with River as far removed from your mind as you can. It was just the heat of the moment, a little rise because it’s been ages since you’ve had a romantic relationship. Not that you needed one. You’re perfectly content with spending your time with the Doctor. Who needs romance when you’re traveling the universe with a quirky alien?…A hot alien.

A hot alien who is your friend. Nothing more.

“Is there something on my face?” the Doctor asked, swiping his chin for invisible crumbs.

His words snapped you out of your haze. Back to the present.

“Wha—No! Sorry, lost in my own head. What were you saying?”

The Doctor presses a few buttons to prepare the TARDIS for travel, glossing over your admitting to not listening, “I was in the middle of explaining why going to Kaythrona would be a bad idea in comparison to Bouble-4A. Perfect this time of year—trees made of crystals and the water is perfect temperature year round. Perfect water, perfect temperature, perfect getaway!”

His smile is that of pure joy. Infectious to anyone, especially you.

“Yeah, perfect! You have any plans when we arrive?” you asked, leaning against the console.

You were an arm’s length away. At this distance you could smell the remnants of his earl gray tea from this morning clinging to his clothes. Wild hair that is tamed on the sides, the cut of his cheekbone, and the hint of stubble along his jaw.

The Doctor whizzes about the controls with flair. Pushing, pressing, and pulling controls that look indistinguishable from one another.

“Many, many plans. Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna love the little markets along the coast. We could go to the seafood restaurant—no, the pearl mines! So much to do and lots to show you.”

The Doctor makes his way around back to you, bumping shoulders as he did so. He turns to you, excited to expose you to yet another world.

You give him a small smile in return. Hoping your demure expression would hide the fluttering of your heart.

Pulling the engine lever down, you feel the familiar rumbling of the TARDIS. The two of you grab onto the railing in hopes to not fall over. The Doctor reaches for the edge of the console, bracing himself.

You, caught up in your fawning, didn’t properly latch onto the railing and nearly toppled over. A hand yanks your arm and you collide with a wall of wool and earl gray.

“Don’t worry I got you,” the Doctor assured, his mouth nearly kissing against your ear.

His hand migrates from your arm to your waist, pulling you to his side. Tight and secure. The shaking continues, but you’re much too focused on how warm the Doctor seems to be. His hand firm on your side, as if it was meant to be there. Your cheek against the scratchy wool of his coat just inches away from his hearts.

Just a friend. Only a friend.

You grasp onto his jacket even though there’s a perfectly stable railing right in front of you.

— — —

Ordinary didn’t apply to your life, so it would only make sense it didn’t touch your love life either.

River once again joined you and the Doctor for another adventure. Surprisingly, one that didn’t involve intergalactic battles and executing a poorly planned heist. No, she just so happened to be in New York in 2023 at the exact same pizza parlor the Doctor is dragging you to.

In the past few months you’ve come to realize that the odd feelings in your stomach and the nervous butterflies wasn’t just spur-of-the-moment anxiety. It only manifests when you are within proximity to either the Doctor or River. Anytime they slipped past your personal bubble, you felt the simmering heat in your stomach and a dizziness whenever they got too close. You didn’t realize how the three of you would be joined at the hip until you realized something.

You love the Doctor…and River.

It came crawling into your mind until it was all you could think about. Moments across the years playing over and over. You loved them both for so long but you played it off as platonic. It should’ve been obvious with how you hoard their attention and do everything in your power to be near them. Their laughs, praise, and happy moments shared between you set your heart ablaze.

Only problem is that they’re already married. They weren’t secretive either. Always flirting in the face of danger. Lingering eyes and a heated kiss when things got rough. They never hid their affection towards one another.

You were never jealous of them. The ache in your chest came from the fact that they would never share that with you. You were you and they were the Doctor and River Song. They had a history long before you and they seemed more than content with each other.

River sat in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant. The afternoon sun highlighted her golden hair like a halo. She was writing in that old diary of hers that resembles your beloved time-machine.

The Doctor walked in fast, measured steps while you tried to keep up. His hand on your back, guiding you through the people crowding around the cashier. The closer you stepped the more anxiety pools.

River looks up from her diary with a wide grin. The one where it crinkles her eyes and makes you lose breath.

“Hello sweetie,” she says, her words honeyed with affection.

“Hello love,” the Doctor returns with a giddy smile.

River’s gaze met yours. Her expression didn’t change, as if she was just as happy to see you.

“We meet again, darling.”

Darling became her nickname for you as much as sweetie was for the Doctor.

She’s just flirting, nothing special.

Your nails dig into your palms, “So it seems, Riv.”

The Doctor ushers you into the booth so you sit shoulder to shoulder. He rubs his hands together as he snatched a menu from the pile in the middle of the table.

“Alright, what do we have here? Some good ol’ pepperoni, some cheese, and lovely sauce. I’m absolutely famished. Haven’t stopped to think, let alone eat something other than the ramen packets Y/N hoards,” the Doctor says.

You snatched the menu from the Doctor, “So you were eating them! You said they could clog your arteries.”

The Doctor snatches the menu right back, “I said they could clog your arteries, not mine.”

“You made me believe I was going mad! Why couldn't you get your own?”

“‘Cause your room is closer…and less expensive.”

The two of you continue to bicker whilst the menu keeps being tugged mercilessly. Ramen packets changed to snoring habits (you were horrified that the Doctor snuck into your room when you were still in it) and the argument shifted to accusations. Most of which was you calling the Doctor a robber. The Doctor deflects and somehow blames you for being easy to rob.

River watched the exchange with a tiniest of smiles. The Doctor with a hint of red at his ears, leaning forward. You with pinched brows and sharp words that you don't actually mean. So close the two of you were that your knees were touching and the air between was your mingled breaths.

“Ahem,” River coughed rather obnoxiously.

At the sound of her, the two of you ceased arguing.

“Any louder and you’ll alert the whole parlor,” she scolds.

Luckily the busy little parlor was already loud with its many customers. Loud enough to drown the squabbling in your booth. Though the realization of how you might've looked made you and the Doctor slouch into your seats.

River narrows her eyes, “If you're done arguing like petty school girls we could hurry up and order because I’m not sharing my food. Unless you wish to continue spilling each other's secrets for all of New York to hear.”

“Nope, we're done,” you say. You shoot her a grin in hopes to hide the fact that, yes, you will continue later.

River’s eyes shift to her husband, who avoids her stare.

“Yes, done-zo. No more arguing,” the Doctor affirms. He leaves out the “For now” at the end.

River knows the little omissions. She doesn't voice it, instead rolling her eyes.

— — —

Lunch went by smoothly, all things considered. Food was served, pizza was eaten, and stories passed the time. The Doctor retold your fantastical adventures with some minor exaggeration (leaving out the mishaps as well). River bragged about her many archeological discoveries and Indiana Jones-esque quests to find legendary artifacts.

As they retold, shared, and laughed at each other's fortune, you sat in your seat with sealed lips. As the time passed, the two of them leaned forward with biting grins. It was as if magnets in their chests pulled them nearer.

You stayed put because in place of a magnet was a lump of sorrow that was weighing you down. You watched their banter go on and on, leaving you out. Their words turned personal, intimate with inside jokes. It was clear that although River and the Doctor weren't exclusive by any means, their love runs deeper than most.

Their love for each other ran deeper, felt stronger only for them.

Not for you.

It hurts to watch them. It hurts to love them knowing they will never feel the same. You’re just a temporary blip in their long lives. They already have one another. Perfectly content with having you just as a companion. Because that’s all you are to them. In this moment, trapped in your bubble, you can see just how in love they are. In the middle of the table their hands are inches away from each other. The tips of their hands moving at a snail's pace towards the other, until they fold in where they meet. They don’t seem to notice the collision of hands, still conversing with one another nonchalantly.

It’s an innocent gesture. Sweet and pure with its intentions. Perfectly their hands fit, you don’t think they could form against yours. They were perfect for one another. Witty mouths, playful eyes, and brilliant minds.

Husband and wife. Vowed for one another.

Your eyes don’t leave their hands, transfixed by your own spell of deep longing.

The Doctor laughs at something River says. It’s a soft chuckle that pulls his lips and shakes his head. River stares unabashed with eyes so full of love that it tugs the strings in your chest.

It makes you sick.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out. You felt too close, too warm in the booth. You need to get away from them both.

The Doctor and River glance at one another. A pointed look that could hold entire conversations. Moments ticked by before the Doctor scoots out of his seat to let you pass. You all but sprinted out of the booth and made a bee-line to the bathroom.

It was a small, dank space with dark brown walls and one lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The harsh lighting and tight space was far from cozy and inviting, but you are glad to have made it out. Your breathing became more shallow, tears started to burn into your eyes. You stare into the warped reflection in the mirror.

Tiredness smudges around your eyes. Your lower lip is cracked from the constant tugging and swiping of your tongue. Edges of your shirt wrinkled from how tightly you were holding onto it.

You don’t know how long you stared at yourself. Lines around your face blur as the tears start to flow. Down your face, into the valleys of cheeks, and into the porcelain sink. Another falls, then another, until you can’t help but sob into your hand.

— — —

Minutes tick by. The pizza being shared was now specks of crumbs.

Your companions sit idly, waiting for your return.

“Is it just me, or is (Y/N) a bit quiet today?” the Doctor mused, looking behind him to see the closed door of the bathroom. The red sticker on the lock gnaws at his mind.

River rubs her thumb over the Doctor’s hand, “Why don’t you ask her? She’s your companion.”

The Doctor turns back to her, “Why don’t you ask her? Everytime I see you two, you can’t keep your hands off one another.”

His words don’t have any malice. If anything, it was more of a jab at how horribly River hides her affinity towards you. Always doting on you with small trinkets and tight hugs. The soft drawl of her “darling” seemed much too intimate, too loving to be platonic.

River’s smile is sharp, her words quick, “Says the man who whimpers whenever she wears a tight dress.”

As quick as her words came, the image of you a week ago floods his mind.

Silk gloves, the shine of your skin, the color of your lipstick. It was a gala out in a different galaxy and the Doctor found it hard to resist your puppy eyes.

You begged him to dress up, to match with your dress. He mutters, whines, and begrudgingly says yes. Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he knew of the outcome of seeing your dress.

A deep blue, nearly black, with delicate lacing and gemstones. Simple, lavish, and complimented your body beautifully. The neckline perfectly snug against your chest, bodice hugging your waist, and when you turned around—

The whole of the Doctor’s face flushes a bright pink. He sputters, tone harsh, “I do not. It’s called being flustered. I’ll have you know that I—stop laughing.”

The Doctor’s plea falls on deaf ears as River let out a choked giggle. Her hand covers her mouth, but the edges of her smile still peek through. Seeing the Doctor flustered over a girl never fails to make her laugh.

“I was…only teasing!” she let out between giggles. The expression the Doctor made, all grumpy like a cat, made her sides hurt.

The laughter dies down. River dabs her eyes and massages her tired cheeks. The Doctor’s hearts swells at her joy, even if it was at his own expense.

The Doctor looks over his shoulder once more. Your door is still locked with no one in line. An uneasy feeling lodges in his chest. Your usual bright, happy attitude was strangely absent. A few times you chimed in, relaying your own version of a story the Doctor purposefully miscounted.

You weren’t sad, at least the Doctor didn’t seem to think so. Empty was a more appropriate word. Stuck in your own head thinking God knows what.

“Did you hold up your end?”

River’s questions shocked the Doctor out of his own thoughts.

The Doctor narrows his eyes, “I don’t recall making a bargain with you. I thought we agreed that if we were drunk that it doesn’t count.”

River rolls her eyes, “I’m talking about (Y/N). I told you to talk to her about…” she gestures to the space between them.

The Doctor mimics her movements, confusion still present in his face, “What’s this? What did I agree to?”

“Us! You agreed to talk to (Y/N) about us. You told me that you would drop hints about it,” River scans the Doctor’s face for any recognition. She sees the realization dawn on him, and the guilt settling in. River can’t help but curl her lips into a snarl, “You didn’t do it, did you?”

“How am I supposed to?” he threw his hands up in exasperation, “It’s bad enough as it is that I get all light-headed and fuzzy when she’s near me. You hear me? Light-headed and fuzzy. I didn’t think that was possible—no I was certain it wasn’t possible. At least with you, you made all the moves from the get-go. What if she doesn’t like me back?’

River shoved her leg under the table, earning a strained “ow” from the Doctor, “You stupid oaf! Of course she likes you! Smartest man in the universe, yet you couldn’t use your big brain of yours to notice her signals? A cyberman could figure it out for goodness sake.”

The Doctor slumped back into his chair, dumbfounded. He would be lying if he said he didn't notice how close you were with him. But you're close with everyone. Always friendly, open with your emotions.

River was the one to bring up a potential relationship. Nudging the Doctor towards you, trying to get him to open up. Every time he mentions anything romantic, it never seems to come out right. Words jumble in his head and his tongue knots in his mouth. On the off chance he does something “romantic”, you would always—unwaveringly—call him a friend. He has to pretend that the word doesn’t make his teeth grind against each other.

The Doctor swirls the colored straw in his glass of soda. The ice clinking against glass and the residual carbonation sizzling out.

Ice. Cracking. Sizzling out into the inky depths of the cola, almost black in the dim lighting.

Something in his brain clicks.

— — —

10 minutes passed before someone banged on the bathroom door.

“Can you hurry up man! You’re holdin’ up the line!” an angry, muffled voice yelled.

You furiously wiped your face, collecting all the remaining tears with paper towels. A couple splashes of water to soothe your puffy eyes before you unlock the bathroom. You were greeted with a cross, stout man with too much hair on his chest and not enough on his head. He grumbled something before making his way around you. No one else stood behind him.

The restaurant died down with only a few tables left occupied and the setting sun spilling through the windows. You drag yourself towards the booth the Doctor and River were situated in. Your steps get slower as the distance gets shorter. Dread builds into you; your mind conjures the image of their exclusion towards you.

Voices, familiar and warm, could be heard. They were more hushed than before, perhaps due to the lack of other customers to drown out their noise. As you round a corner, you see River and the Doctor hunched towards one another. You can only see River’s stern expression before her eyes immediately spot you. Relief sags her shoulders. At her expression, the Doctor whizzed around to greet you.

You stopped in front of them, seeing their ruffled clothes and fidgeting body language. You were gone for a few minutes, so why did they look…disheveled? River’s usual glossy curls were frizzy around the edges; wild strands sticking to and fro. The Doctor’s shirt looked wrinkled and bowtie skewed at an odd angle.

Did they…? No, you weren’t gone for that long.

“Sorry I took so long. Long line and no toilet paper,” you lie with a monotone voice. You didn’t put any energy into making it believable, hoping they would get the hint to not question you.

The Doctor sprang up from his seat with an expression that seemed much too happy to be innocent.

“Change of plans. River had just informed me that at this very moment, there is a comet passing by in—” he checks his watch, “ —Yosemite, California. Super beautiful, gorgeous color. Isn’t that right Riv?”

River nods, fast and eager, “Sure is, sweetie. I’ve had enough of the city, wouldn’t you say?”

Their odd behavior rang alarm bells in your mind. A prank? You doubt River would be the type to follow along with a malicious prank. The Doctor, however…

You let out an exhausted sigh, “Could this wait later? Tomorrow?”

“Nope! Can’t wait, lots to see!” came the Doctor’s reply.

The Doctor placed his hands on your shoulders to steer you to the front door. Your feet nearly tangle together, practically stumbling down the empty street with River not too far behind. You find your footing just fast enough so that you can speed walk without the Doctor trying to knock you over.

“Guys, slow down. Doctor, I can walk just fine y’know,” your shoe gets caught onto a piece of sidewalk, making you jump slightly. It doesn’t deter the Doctor, still hellbent on shoving you down the street. You turn to your side, eyeing River, “Could you please explain to me what’s going on? Why are you guys acting weird?”

River’s cherry red lips stretched to a smile (Did she just apply it?), “Spoilers.”

Your friends’ odd behaviors made you question if you’re being kidnapped by shapeshifters. Not an impossible scenario, but would explain why they’re suddenly so hyper. The Doctor made a sharp turn into an alley. You see the TARDIS with its vibrant blue against the red brick of the buildings beside it.

Something’s wrong.

“The TARDIS was parked a few streets down. Why is it here?” you questioned, distrust lacing your voice.

The Doctor sent a worried look towards River, who looked caught off-guard.

“We…thought it was best to move it closer so you didn’t have to walk far,” River explains. It comes out quickly. Too rushed and uneasy to make it truthful.

The Doctor gave a smile, too wide for your liking.

You cross your arms over your chest, “If you don’t spit it out already I’m not getting into the TARDIS. I’m honestly a bit freaked out right now.”

“We, uh…” the Doctor moves his hand, trying to come up with something, “We can’t tell you.”

You scoff, looking at River to see if she will spill.

River shrugs, “You’ll have to come inside the TARDIS to see.”

You wrestle with the idea of accusing them of being aliens with perception filters. It could explain their odd appearance and eagerness to get you to the TARDIS. Were the real Doctor and River Song trapped somewhere. Is this a trick of the mind?

The Doctor hand tugs yours. Secure and warm. His expression calms, “It’s a surprise,” he indulges.

River unlocks the TARDIS, holding the door open, “A big one.”

The Doctor and River take your hands, interlocking them. The action sends your mind blank. Soft, warm. They hold tightly, flushed against your clammy palms. Your heart stutters, finally registering what’s happening. You’ve held their hands many, many times. It wasn’t unusual to see you link hands with either of them.

This. It feels different.

They all but pulled you inside, the destination already on display and the engine ready to go.

— — —

Cool air kissed your face, greatly contrasting the warm New York temperature. Grass met your feet instead of concrete. Stillness you’d always associate with nature instead of the bustle of busy streets.

“Is the blindfold really necessary?”

You fight the instinct to rip the cloth off your face, but your hands are preoccupied with being held by your companions. River to your left, the Doctor on your right. Their other hands find the small of your back, guiding you forward.

“Almost there, darling,” River assures.

You bite back a groan. One foot in front of the other as best as you could. Each one was wobbly; unsure of debris blocking your path. The hands along your back tighten, trying to steer your uncoordinated body towards the destination.

You smell the familiar scent of firewood in the air before you hear the crackling.

The walking stops and hands leave your body. You hear the rustling of fabric and stray giggles of the Doctor. River hushes him.

Your fingers twitch at your side. The cotton of the Doctor’s bow tie is soft yet strangely secure on your head. You're trying to piece together what they’re trying to show you. Nothing seems to add up. Is it a holiday? A prank? Was it a birthday?

You hear footsteps and feel two hands on your shoulders.

“Keep your eyes close, yeah?” the Doctor whispers, tugging his bow tie off your eyes.

You sigh, “Doctor, what are you trying to do?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond. You don’t know his facial expression or any sort of clue towards his motivations. But you feel the gentle hold of his hand. Warm palms picking up your fingers, thumb tracing the peaks of your knuckles and the valleys of your skin.

Almost like…

“Ready,” River announced, a bit distant from where you are standing.

The Doctor leans close, his hair tickling your temple, “Open your eyes.”

It took you a few blinks to adjust your eyes. The inky darkness of night contrasts the warm, inviting fire light.

River stands next to a picnic blanket with the most lush pillows you’ve ever seen. Movie snacks are piled in the corner and in the middle a neatly wrapped box with an obnoxious bow. In front of the picnic blanket was a small, orange fire surrounded by a ring of rocks. The flames crackle loudly, providing warmth against the lowering temperature.

“What…How? Why?” Was all you could muster. You take a few steps closer, unsure of how to process this.

You focus on the box. Dark wrapping paper with shining gold stars to accent. The flickering fire made the glitter on the stars twinkle. The bow nearly swallowed the top of the box with ribbons cascading down. Your eyes flicker to the pile of snacks. Your favorite snacks. Even some ramen packets.

The Doctor spoke up, “Hope you’re not too full from the pizza. Though, come to think of it, we may have left the drinks back in the TARDIS. River suggested wine but I’m already buzzed from my own endorphins.” His words were a bit fast, almost nervous.

“But why? Is there something special about today?” you ask.

River smiled, “November, 1826.”

There’s something familiar about the date. It tickled your memory, but nothing clear.

“Our first adventure together. The three of us,” The Doctor clarified.

It felt as though the Doctor’s words swept all air from your lungs. Of course, how could you forget?

You are certain it was years ago. Keeping track of time on the TARDIS is finicky at best, but you felt the time pass as evident by the scars on your skin and fine lines dotting your face. You were still wide-eyed and naive, not yet comprehending the dangers of the universe. The Doctor was still odd and new to be around; still getting used to your presence at his side.

There was a galactic cruise ship, nearly swallowing Pluto in size. Parts of the memory are hazy in your mind. You forget if it’s you that urged the Doctor to go or the Doctor dragging you out. Whatever the case was, you found yourself onboard and immediately lost, tipsy from the wine given.

River found you then. It wasn’t ‘til later that you realized that River was actually seeking you out. In your eyes, it was the first time seeing her. To her, she had already had a tone of familiarity when your name rolled off her tongue.

Turns out River had organized a heist to return stolen goods that were aboard the cruise ship. Fighting and mishaps ensued until the Doctor managed to hoard the goods aboard the TARDIS and return them to their rightful spots.

At the end of it all, the three of you had just so happened to be above the Earth at the same time as Biela’s comet.

You remember your legs dangling off the edge of the TARDIS, dark splotches along your legs where bruises formed. The Doctor and River lean against the doorframe, silent in their awe. The first of many mishaps and adventures the three of you would create.

They took you to the exact day—the exact time—

“Why?” you whispered. Everything came rushing all at once. Stolen glances, longing stares, the uncomfortable beat of your heart. Memories of the three of you or just intimate moments with either of them. You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just…don’t understand.”

The Doctor took your hands once again. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“We love you (Y/N). For a while now, actually.”

His delicate words hit you like a gust of wind. Your head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor’s usual happy facade is gone, any humor wiped from the planes of his face entirely. His hands grip onto yours a bit harder, enough to ground you.

After a few moments, your brain finally stills. Anxiety still grips your muscles and tightens your chest, but you manage to sputter your thoughts out coherently.

“I love you guys too,” you grin against the onset of tears starting to fall. You didn’t move your hands from the Doctor’s, so you simply let them cascade down your face. You shakily inhaled, continuing, “For so long I thought you guys wouldn’t feel the same. Even now…”

Two hands appear at your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the salty tears. The Doctor smiles and you don’t mistake the glisten in his eyes as well.

You turn towards River who stands near the blankets with the present pressed tightly against herself. The fire gives her golden hair a bright orange hue, surrounding her with a divine glow. The way she looks at you made your skin flushed; so full of adoration, as if you were the most breath-taking sight.

Stepping towards the blond with the Doctor, you try to meet her gaze head-on. You stopped once you got close enough to see the dilation of her eyes. For a second a flicker of something else flashed in her green eyes.

“Breathe, darling,” she teased. At her command, you let out the breath you were holding. She hands you the box, never breaking eye-contact, “Consider it an anniversary gift.”

The choice of words makes your eyes widen. The box seemed a bit hefty in your hands. You gave it an experimental shake, feeling something large and solid moving. You gripped the end of the ribbon and gave it a tug. Silky ribbon buckled, folding into itself until it completely unraveled and slipped from the box. Pulling open the top you saw a large blue book nestled inside.

TARDIS blue, you noted.

River takes the empty box while the Doctor ushered you onto the picnic blanket. There were no words embellished that gave any indication as to what the book was about. Flipping the cover open, you were met with a mostly blank page, save for the text stamped in the middle:

“For the love of our many lives. A companion, friend, and most importantly, the reason the Universe doesn’t seem so cold.”

Tears nearly blurred your vision, but you managed to wipe them away to flip to the next page.

A collage of photos filled the pages. Some were candid, others in black in white, most of them had you in them. There were pictures you had captured on an old film camera you snagged when you were stuck in the 70s. You were quite surprised to see snapshots of you doing mundane activities. Your head was turned away from the lens, completely focused on some task in front of you. There were a few pictures with you and River and some with all three of you.

Years of memories stored in the pages of the book. Some far back to the earliest days of your travels.

The rest of the night blurred into happy tears and hearty laughs. You snuggled between the two Time Lords flipping through the photo album filled with your fondest memories.

The insecurities felt in the cramped bathroom in the middle of New York seemed so far away. Years of anxiety curdling in your stomach finally bloomed into something sweet. They loved you. They wanted you. They planned everything out for you. You felt it in their gaze, their warm touches.

“Tonight,” the Doctor whispered, “It’s all about you.”

As Biela made her visit, shining brightly amongst the twinkling stars, you realized that somewhere out in the sky, your past selves were observing the same scene.

Staring out into the vast expanse of space, you hoped the love that swelled your heart could be felt millions of miles away. That your shared laughter transcended the atmosphere and carried to the passengers of the TARDIS floating above Earth.

You hoped that somewhere out there, your future selves are looking over, sharing this experience across time and space.

#eleventh doctor request #eleventh doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #bbc doctor who #eleventh doctor x river song #eleventh doctor x reader x river song #eleventh doctor x y/n x river song #eleventh doctor x you x river song #the doctor x you #the doctor x y/n #the doctor x reader #the doctor x river song #the doctor x reader x river song

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odinsblog · 2 months

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“I think there is a simpler explanation to the tragedy and the barbarism on October the 7th, which is that you cannot indefinitely contain a group of people under military occupation for decades and expect that there won't be violence. There is violence in the Middle East, and the root cause of that violence is an illegal military occupation that is now in what, it's 57th year in the occupied West Bank and Gaza. And this is not just me saying this.

I mean, people like General Shlomo Brom, one of Israel's most famous military strategists, says, the oppressed will rise against the oppressor because it's absurd to hope that Israel can indefinitely contain with its military might millions of Palestinians who claim the right to a free, normal life. That is the statement of Shlomo Brom.

It's not true that the previous Gaza conflicts were all started by Hamas. Some were, but not all of them. Ceasefires have been broken on both sides and that's been well documented by multiple neutral observers and international observers.

But just on the broader point, Israel was never done with Gaza. This myth that they pulled out all the settlers and the occupation ended, first of all, under international law, Gaza is still occupied.

The Israelis control most of the land borders, all of the naval waters, all of the airspace. You tell me a country in the world that would accept that, any kind of country that you would call independent or sovereign. The Israelis even control the population register in Gaza, which means if you're born in Gaza, the Israelis are the ones who register you in control.

All of the information about your birth, life, and death. So this idea that Gaza was free, it was not free. And the boycott, the siege, I mean, it was not defensive.

Again, multiple human rights groups, including Israeli human rights groups like Gisha have said over the years, that the boycott was not defensive, that it was arbitrary, that it was cruel. Items like pasta, coriander, right? These are items that were banned at certain points going into Gaza.

Even now, David Miliband, the former British Foreign Minister, head of the International Rescue Committee, went on CNN this week to point out that dual-use items are being blocked going into Gaza. Entire aid trucks are being turned away because there's a scissors in them. A pair of scissors is inside a truck.

For medical purposes, the entire truck is turned away. For years now, the people in Gaza have been blockaded, besieged. The UN said it would be unlivable years ago.

We're now in 2024. It's certainly unlivable now. So no, I don't believe the Israeli narrative.

And one last thing, let's say everything Israel said was true. That still does not justify the collective punishment of 2.2 million people, half of whom are children, and who are now in the midst of one of the worst famines in living memory, according to the experts.

[…]

I've been very, very, very critical of Hamas. I've been critical of Hamas for decades. I've been critical of Hamas since October the 7th.

I was critical of Hamas on October the 7th. So no, I'm not sparing in my criticism of Hamas, but the missing context here, of course, is that we don't fund Hamas. I'm not responsible for Hamas.

I am responsible for the famine in Gaza. I am responsible for the killing of 30,000 people in Gaza because my taxes paid for it. The United States government is funding one side of this conflict.

The United States does not fund Hamas, last time I checked. So this idea that we are either fund them or protect them with a UN veto or arm Hamas, I don't think we send arms to Hamas, we do to Israel. Therefore, that is the focus of my journalism.

And by the way, yes, the focus of my journalism right now is on criticism of Israel because the rest of the US media has completely failed on this issue, has dropped the ball. I mean, I can go through The New York Times, The Washington Post, and show the exact opposite, pieces that are providing cover and safety for the Israeli narrative, including in absurd headlines where we go out of our way to use the passive voice and never cite that Israel is responsible for bombing a hospital or Israel is responsible for bombing a refugee camp. So I'm trying to do a little bit of correction on my end with this new media organization.

But look, Hamas is a brutal group. What it did on October the 7th was pure terror. They killed innocents, they abducted innocent babies as hostages into the war crime.

But none of that justifies what Israel is doing right now. And nor are we responsible for what Hamas is doing. But we are, in New York and across the country, sadly, we are responsible for the crimes that Israel is carrying out.

And that's the point I'm trying to make.”

—Mehdi Hasan

#politics #palestine #gaza #israel #mehdi hasan #hasbara #false narratives #false equivalencies #feigned neutrality #journalism fail #the media is complicit #october 7 #october 7th #7 october

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lotusbxtch · 2 months

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and I lost you [TS drabble challenge]

Here's my entry into @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! I got Maroon and Joel. Get ready for Angst City®️! (Divider by @saradika-graphics)

Song: Maroon (Midnights) Pedro boy: Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x ex!afab!Reader (written in Joel's POV) Word Count: 686 Warnings/tags: post-outbreak, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol consumption, infidelity, aaaaangst, heavy reference to Taylor Swift lyrics, not beta'd

Joel lay awake in his bed, shifting his position for the umpteenth time while his memories play over and over in his head. No matter how he wraps his flannel sheets around himself, the bed is never as warm as it is when you were in it with him. But that’s all gone to shit now that he’s lost you.

He knows he’s made a fool of himself. Knows that he’s failed you. You - beautiful, charming, the only one to slip past his defenses, the walls he put up around himself to keep out everything, even the good. He let you into his home and his heart, let you fill it with laughter. He remembers how you told him stories about your college days before the outbreak, about your vinyl shelf full of records, of nights where you woke up on the floor in the late morning after too much cheap rose wine. He told you stories about Sarah, whom he never talked about to anyone besides you and Tommy. Her prowess at soccer, how she would help out their elderly neighbors, the watch she got fixed for him for his birthday - the day before his world ended. He felt safe with you, and you with him. You chose him, and he chose you.

He doesn’t know when it started. But you’d been frustrated with Tommy’s reliance on Joel for border patrol; you felt that he was putting himself in unnecessary amounts of danger. Arguments started cropping up, and more than once you’d left the house to stay at Tommy and Maria’s after particularly bad fights. On more than one of those occasions, he’d trudged to the Tipsy Bison to drown his sorrows and avoid his feelings. And on one of those nights, he let temptation win out.

She was one of Maria’s friends, older than you were, closer to Joel’s age. She’d always blatantly flirted with him, despite him mentioning you and everyone knowing you and Joel were together. She was one of those women who liked challenges, who wanted to play games. She didn’t like that Joel resisted all of her advances, so she waited until he was at his weakest to pounce. Too many whiskeys in, Joel had let her drag him behind the bar. Had let her kiss him, his lips barely moving back against hers in response. She promised she could make him feel better than you did, that he didn’t need a girl like you, he needed a woman - despite you being more of a woman than she could even dream of. He didn’t stop her when she kissed down his neck, when she left marks along his collarbone - ones he knew you’d notice. He was just so mad at you for being right about the patrol shifts, but he felt guilty saying no to Tommy after all this time apart from him. His awful defense mechanisms figured that if you had left the house, it meant you didn’t want him or need him, and he wanted to forget.

But he was so wrong. When he stumbled back to the house, he didn’t expect you to be there. Didn’t think you’d be sipping red wine at the counter, waiting for him. So when he entered the living room, his button-up disheveled, the darkening hickey across his collarbone clear as day, you looked shell-shocked, then distraught, then more angry than you’d ever been before. You took the glass you’d been drinking out of and flung the contents at him, the burgundy splashing onto his t-shirt and face. You said nothing as you stormed out of the house, but right before you slammed the door, he heard the most heart-wrenching sob begin to wrack your chest as you held your head in your hands.

He felt like his heart had been strangled, but he knew everything was his fault. He deserved the full weight of the hurt he made you endure. Laying awake with your memory over him, he realized what a real fucking legacy his betrayal was to leave to you, the one he chose, the one who had chosen him.

#pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #writeblr #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst

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sweetblinginrose · 30 days

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: The girl goes in search of answers and ends up with the metalhead's cock in her throat... who would have thought…

word count: 8,3k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, ingestion of alcohol and joints, almost gave Sinclair a withey, spanking, blowjob in public.

a/n: hey guuurls, i wrote a second part since @alastorssimp asked for it and i reconsidered it. not sure if it’ll be as good as you said the first part was, but i think it’s alright, ig. the problem is the translation. if there’s anything you don’t get, let me know.

oh, and sorry for taking so long, i’m busy with my exams hehe.

kisses!!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

before reading this part, you have to read this one!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

In the darkness of the room, you and the long-haired boy lay in an oasis of intimacy, surrounded by an ocean of sheets that kept the secrets of your most vulnerable moments. The sheets, wrinkled and disordered, were a canvas of memories, impregnated with the aroma of tobacco that mixed with the freshness of the night and the sweet vestige of recently consummated sex.

His room, a sanctuary of orderly chaos, exuded warmth despite its disarray. Magazines with their folded pages and worn edges lay scattered on the floor, testimony to many nights of reading and lively discussions. The posters, hung with a nonchalance that bordered on art, danced on the hard plastic walls of the trailer, each telling a story, each a window to a different world.

The laughter you shared, free and genuine, rose and filled every corner, weaving a melody exclusive to your duo. The night breeze, complicit in your union, slid through the half-open window, shaking the faded and torn curtains that hung like banners of a forgotten kingdom. The air carried with it the characteristic aroma of the Forest Hills Trailer Park, a mix of freshness and adventure, which caressed your bare skin, causing a shiver that was both anticipation and delight.

But then, reality knocked on the door in the form of insistent knocks. It was Tom, his voice filtering through the plastic like a discordant melody, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement. His question, thrown into the wind with the nonchalance of someone who has enjoyed the most earthly pleasures, broke the spell of the moment. "Hey, lovebirds! What are you doing in there that your hair can't be seen?" He exclaimed, his laugh a laugh that mixed with the smoke and foam of the shared beers. It was a reminder that, although the outside world continued to spin, in that room, in that moment, only the two of you existed.

You stood up suddenly, as if propelled by an invisible spring, in the middle of the darkness that hung over the room like a thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest with the force of a war drum, each beat an echo in the vast cavern of your anxiety. The room, previously a sanctuary of laughter and whispers, now seemed like a mausoleum of silence and shadows, only interrupted by the gasping of two souls that had danced on the edge of the abyss.

Your eyes, two desperate beacons in the night, opened wide, capturing the pale moonlight filtering through the window. The reality of your nakedness, and that of Eddie at your side, hit you with the rawness of an inescapable truth. You remembered, with a clarity that hurt, each step that had led you to intertwine your destinies in the most intimate way. Fear, that old acquaintance, slithered across your skin, a cold snake that threatened to strangle your thoughts. The senses, now sharp as knives, tensed as they captured every whisper, every creak that the old house decided to give away. Fear had transformed into panic, a savage beast that threatened to devour what little composure you had left. You could feel, almost see, your friends' questioning gaze through the closed door, their imaginary eyes piercing the plastic like x-rays.

In an act of desperation, your eyes searched frantically for something to cover your nakedness, but the room offered only the promise of deeper exposure. The feeling of vulnerability was overwhelming, a giant crushing you to the ground with its mountain-like weight. The certainty that something shameful was about to happen paralyzed you, a pillar of salt condemned to look back.

You and Eddie looked at each other, and in his eyes you found the reflection of your own fear, a mirror where anxiety danced with shame. The footsteps outside the room echoed with the certainty of an approaching doom, and in that moment, you understood what it meant to be truly trapped, like on Elm Street, in a true nightmare.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you propelled yourself upwards, attempting to defy gravity and the circumstances that had brought you to that unforgiving ground. But your legs, betrayed by exhaustion and accumulated tension, did not respond as you expected. Instead of standing tall in triumph, you collapsed, your knees hitting the worn and stained carpet that told stories of countless encounters and disagreements. The sharp pain that shot through your knees was a cruel reminder of your humanity, an echo of the vulnerability you had tried to ignore. Your legs trembled, shaken by spasms that robbed you of any illusion of control. Still, in an act of desperation, you extended your arm, looking for the garment that would restore a minimum of decorum, but you only found emptiness. You couldn't find your favorite panties...

With your heart pounding in your chest, you resigned yourself to the urgency of the moment and focused on putting on your bra, feeling the cold sensation of the bonding metal against your bare back. Every click of the closure reminded you of the stark reality of the situation you found yourself in.

Embarrassment mixed with urgency as you wrapped yourself in the bra, feeling the stretchy fabric hug your torso tightly, offering you a modicum of protection amidst the chaos around you. The absence of undergarments increased your vulnerability, but you had no time to hesitate.

In the midst of the mess, your gaze drifted to Eddie, who was awkwardly struggling to put on his pants. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, an expression of determination etched on his face despite the hair tie he held between his lips. With each tug of fabric, his face reflected a mix of urgency and desperation, as he struggled to regain a bit of dignity in the chaos of the situation. The mess you were in was palpable, but you were both determined to deal with it in the best way possible.

Tom's thuds and drunken screams intensified, reverberating against the bare walls of the room, each impact an echo of the tension building in the fog-thick air. The atmosphere was saturated with chaos, each discordant sound a note in the symphony of nocturnal anarchy. In the eye of this sonic storm, the voice of one of your friends emerged, a thread of sanity in Tom's madness. His tone was a mix of concern and drunken sarcasm, imploring him to moderate the force of his against the door, that the noise might wake the neighbors and bring consequences unwanted. His words, although tinged with alcohol, managed to cut through the chaos, granting a brief respite, a moment of calm before the storm continued. Tom, distracted by the presence of your friends, walked away from the door, his unsteady footsteps guiding him back to the dining room. There, his voice rose again, a drunken shout trying to be charming, seeking the attention of anyone willing to listen.

Meanwhile, in the stillness of the room, you stood up from the cold, hard floor. Your knees, marked by the pressure of your fall, showed a redness that spoke of the subtle but persistent pain. With movements that belied your newfound vulnerability, you grabbed your skirt and t- shirt, dressing with a haste born of necessity. Eddie, next to you, imitated your movements. He gave a dry clearing of his throat, an attempt to impose some order on the chaotic scene. Unlike you, he avoided your gaze, his attention focused on piecing together his appearance, making sure every detail was in its place. Without looking at you, his voice cut through the silence, "Everything's cool, right? Can we go out now?" You nodded, although you knew he wasn't expecting your approval. With a discreet gesture, he opened the door just enough to enter. His exit was marked by a forced smile, a façade of normality that sought to erase any hint of what had happened.

When you returned to the living room, not so welcoming, everyone's eyes focused on you. Luckily, the known animosity between the two served as a distraction from any suspicion. Tom, impatient, asked in a voice clouded by smoke and alcohol, "What took you so long?" Next to him, one of your friends was trapped in a casual hug, the smell of marijuana and alcohol permeating the air. Eddie, with the skill of a veteran in these affairs, made up an excuse on the fly, something about an item lost in a bet. The explanation, although weak, was accepted without further ado. The others, absorbed in their world of laughter and drinking, dismissed the importance of the matter and plunged back into their feast of joy and excess.

The night unfolded like a dark blanket, dotted with stars that blinked indifferently at the tension that was brewing between you and Eddie. The gazes that had previously danced together in perfect harmony were now diverted, colliding with familiar faces in the crowd. Discomfort clung to you, a second skin made of silences and unspoken words, a transparent shield that isolated you from the human warmth that surrounded you. The bustle of the small gathering became a distant hum, as each one was immersed in a sea of silent reflections and imprisoned feelings. The tension that had floated between you, a dance of veiled contempt and hidden desire, had brewed over the years, growing silently until it became an invisible giant that now separated you.

There you were, at the epicenter of an oppressive silence, as Eddie's laughter and exclamations filled the space, a sharp contrast to your internal stillness. His happiness, so pure and overflowing, was a rare sight, a light you hadn't witnessed in a long time, and the brilliance of it left you with an empty feeling, as if a part of you had faded into the darkness. "I have to go now, guys. I had a great time today, see you on Monday..." you announced, with a voice that seemed to come from afar, from someone that wasn't you. You didn't dare to look back, to face the surprise or the perplexity that could appear on their faces. You felt the weight of her gaze fixed on your back, trying to pierce the armor of your most secret thoughts.

As you left the trailer, the cool night air hit your face, a cold blow that sought to shake you out of the emotional lethargy in which you had immersed yourself. Your steps began to lead you away, each one resounding like an echo in the solitude of the night, marking the rhythm of your retreat from a world of silent confessions and secrets that would never see the light.

It was then that Lucas appeared, his presence so sudden that he almost seemed like a ghost emerging from the shadows. "I'll accompany you," he said in a voice that brooked no reply. His company was unexpected, almost uncomfortable, but there was something comforting about his presence. He was nothing more than an acquaintance, a friend of your sister, a member of the Order of the Sith, but at that moment, his presence was all you needed.

The night had become a blanket of uncertainty and unanswered questions. Lucas, with his unbalanced gait, seemed the only constant in a world that was reeling. You didn't understand why he had decided to accompany you and not Mike, who also shared the proximity of his steps to his house. The age difference between you and Lucas was an abyss of experiences and experiences, three years that at that moment seemed like an eternity.

The silence stretched between you like a suspension bridge, fragile and tense, until Lucas broke it with a simple, "Hey...". His voice was a whisper in the night, but enough to capture your full attention. Looking at him, worry washed over you; his dark skin glistened with night sweat, and his normally lively and alert eyes were half-lidded and tinted a deep red.

"Yes? Are you okay, Sinclair?" you asked, stopping in your tracks. The possibility that he had smoked marijuana assaulted you, and with it, a protective instinct you didn't know you had. Lucas looked at you, and in that moment, the vulnerability he showed was palpable.

"No, it's just... I think you're very pretty..." Sinclair's confession came with shaky honesty, his voice a fragile thread on the night breeze. He was visibly affected, dizziness painted his world with tones of uncertainty, and his body trembled slightly, although adorned with a naive smile that failed to hide his state. You ignored his words, it was not the time for flattery or the vulnerability they exuded. You approached him, noticing how he towered over you in height, a difference that now seemed trivial. “Have you smoked anything, Lucas,” you asked, worry coloring every syllable of your question.

Lucas tried to respond, but his rapid blinks and difficulty swallowing revealed more than his words. He looked around, perhaps looking for a way out of his confusion, when he suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground. "Shit!" You exclaimed, as you crouched down next to him. You lifted him enough for him to sit, holding him steady. His eyes closed, surrendering to the sleep that called him, a dangerous mixture of alcohol and drugs had brought him to that sorry state. You looked around, searching for a solution, a refuge in the night for Sinclair. That's when you saw the 24-hour restaurant, an oasis of light and calm in the darkness. It was completely empty, as if it was waiting for you. Without hesitation, you decided it was the safe place to take Sinclair and help him recover. Carefully, you guided him towards the establishment, each step a silent promise that you wouldn't leave him alone in his time of need.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you crouched down and wrapped your arms under Sinclair's shoulders, feeling the dead weight of his body. "Come on, Sinclair, don't do this to me," you mumbled, your breathing labored by the effort. The dirt clung to your hands, and you could feel the wetness of the grass through your bare legs. "Sinclair, for the love of God, move something!" you exclaimed, as a vein on your forehead threatened to burst. Finally, with a groan that sounded more like a growl, Sinclair gained some consciousness, his eyes slowly blinking back to reality. With a superhuman effort, he managed to stand up, leaning heavily on you. They began to walk, each step a battle against gravity. “You weigh more than my sins,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as his body tilted dangerously to one side, forcing you to compensate for the weight.

The cafeteria is filled with the hum of an old refrigerator as the only soundtrack of the night. The flickering lights from the neon sign outside filter through the blinds, casting dancing shadows over Lucas's exhausted form. His head, heavy as lead, oscillates on the edge of the abyss of sleep, leaning more and more towards the table that supports his weight.

The clock strikes 3 am, and time seems to have stopped in this forgotten corner of town. You, with a gesture of concern that you cannot hide, decide to intervene. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with eyes that have seen too many early mornings, walks silently over and places a steaming plate in front of Sinclair. It's an onion soup, with its comforting aroma and melted cheese that stretches with every spoonful, promising warmth and sustenance. Next to him, a large, cold glass water bottle lands with a thud on the table.

Lucas, shaken by the sound, raises his head with a start, his eyes blinking, trying to focus on the reality around him. "You have to eat and drink the whole bottle," he insists, with his arms crossed and a firmness in his voice that brooks no reply. It is not your responsibility to take care of him, but your conscience does not allow you to leave him to his fate.

As Sinclair obeys, he begins to regain the color in his cheeks and the lucidity in his eyes. The soup works its magic on him, and little by little, life returns to his eyes. Outside, the town is still asleep, oblivious to the small miracle that occurs inside. And you, despite your initial revulsion, can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at seeing that, at least for tonight, you've made a difference in someone's life.

Lucas, with his mind still cloudy, clung to the fork as if it were an anchor in the middle of the storm. His eyes, glassy and distant, were lost in the abyss of the half-empty plate, where there had previously been a pile of comfort food. The cafeteria, plunged into a dead silence, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his next move. Was Sinclair who broke the spell, his voice tearing through the silence like paper thin. "Why did you leave there? It's because you don't like Eddie, right?" he asked, as the water swirled in his glass, reflecting his still trembling hands. Your face, a canvas of contradictory emotions, was contorted into a grimace of discomfort. Memories of what had happened just an hour or two ago assaulted you, forcing your lips into a tight smile, a clear indication of your discomfort. You were convinced that you had made a mistake, that something in your behavior had caused Eddie's averted gaze and silence. "I say this because... he doesn't dislike you, quite the contrary..." Lucas continued, dragging his words with the same slowness with which he cleaned his plate with a piece of bread. The bread, now soaked in the last vestiges of soup, disappeared in his mouth, as if with each bite it could erase the tension in the air.

Surprise appeared on your face when you heard Lucas' words. "What do you say? But Eddie hates me, or at least he did," you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh, as if the idea was so absurd that it could only be cause for a joke. Your eyes drifted for a moment to the waitress, whose curious gaze rested on the both of you. With her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, she looked like a statue, a silent observer of the strange dance of your conversation. Sinclair shook his head, her gesture was firm, denying your words with a seriousness that contrasted with your joking tone. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you, as if every word she was about to say needed the confidentiality of a whisper. "Look, I'm going to tell you, but if you tell Eddie, I'll kill you before he kills me..." His voice was a thread of tension, his eyes sleepy, as if the weight of what he was Sharing would burden him deeply.

Your confusion was palpable, but you nodded, giving Lucas the signal that he had your attention. He cleared his throat, clear preparation for what was to come, and leaned even closer, as if he feared even the walls could hear. "Long before us and your sister got to high school, Eddie was already crazy about you, so it's nothing new," Sinclair whispered, with a seriousness that made you question if it was really a joke. Despite your doubts, you decided to give him your full attention. It was a hard statement to believe; your interactions had always been marked by fights and teasing, a constant push and pull that left no room for deeper feelings. But after the recent sex, you found yourself reconsidering every look and word exchanged with Eddie. What if he was trying to flirt instead of bother you? Sinclair spoke with a rapidity that reflected the urgency and nervousness of sharing secrets that should not be revealed. "Ever since we started sitting with their group at lunch, they made jokes about you, I mean, about how hot you are and all that," his words flowed like an overflowing river, full of confidences and murmurs that had been kept with him. suspicion. "Although without knowing that your sister was your sister," he continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he remembered the collective surprise, "so, when we were offered to join The Hellfire Club and she said she belonged to The Sith Order, Eddie was perplexed." He readjusted himself on the couch, which seemed to hug him with the comfort of it, and looked you directly in the eyes. It was evident that every word he said was another piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together in front of you, a puzzle that, once completed, would change the way you viewed Eddie and possibly the entire dynamic of your social circle. Lucas looked at you with a knowing smile, his eyes. They shone with a gleam of amusement as you imagined your sister. "And since then your sister no longer sits with us, since Eddie considers her a rival of his," he said, his voice tinged with his humor. It was known that Sinclair had always been in love with her, and his tone suggested that he still harbored romantic hopes. "What I'm getting at," Lucas continued, pausing to take a long sip of water. "It's just that when Eddie wanted to see you, since, just as he said, you graduated before him because of his bad grades, he was talking to your sister so that the battles between the groups would start." His words flowed with the ease of someone sharing a long-kept secret, and you realized that your sister's constant bets were more than just games. "That's why your sister proposed so many bets," he added, with a gesture of understanding. Lucas lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, "And always, after we left the games, he would stare at you as he went, commenting on how beautiful you were, what good taste you had, and how intelligent you were." He paused dramatically, making sure you caught the importance of his next words. "Eddie is totally into you."

The revelation had left you speechless, a whirlwind of emotions washing over you as you tried to process what you had just heard. Eddie, the same Eddie that seemed like a constant in your daily life, was now intertwined with your feelings in a way you hadn't expected. A few years ago, every time you crossed the school cafeteria, your gaze unconsciously searched for his figure. Eddie, always alert, stood up as if he were waiting for you to pass, leaving a clear space for you to pass. You wondered if it was a coincidence or if, in some way, he also felt that invisible connection that united you. You remembered that time he called you a witch with a voice that was intended to be harsh, but his eyes betrayed the truth. It wasn't hate you saw in them, but a spark of fun, a lopsided smile that bordered on flirtatious. It was a game of looks and unspoken words that only the two of you seemed to understand, even though apparently, you didn't.

In the role-playing games you shared, Eddie transformed. He became the supreme narrator, his voice filling the room, creating worlds and adventures with astonishing ease. But when it was your turn, everything changed. His tone softened, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to want to decipher each of your thoughts. It was as if, in those moments, there was no one else in the room, just you and him.

Now, as you remembered those moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine, causing an involuntary blush to stain your cheeks. Sinclair's words echoed in your mind, giving you the courage to believe that, perhaps, what you felt for Eddie was reciprocated. It was a terrifying and exciting thought at the same time, a possibility that opened a new chapter in the story of your life.

Sunday slipped through scattered thoughts, like leaves blown by the autumn wind. The week became a countdown, each day marking one step closer to Friday, that day that promised practice with your group and, more importantly, Saturday, when you would have the chance to face Eddie once again.

The cabin, with its walls that whispered stories of ancient victories and defeats, welcomed you on Friday. The practice went without a hitch, each member of the group immersed in their role, building a parallel reality where anything was possible. But Saturday came with a bittersweet taste. The Hellfire Club was full, everyone except Eddie. His absence was like a vacuum that sucked the energy out of the room. You had taken care of your appearance, hoping to capture the magic of that previous night, but instead, you were met with words that fell like cold drops on your spirit. "Eddie said he didn't want to see you today," Dustin announced with a nonchalance that hurt you more than you expected. The screams of his friends echoed, a cacophony of reproaches rising like a storm. "What?" The surprise left you speechless for a moment, a pause that felt eternal. "What?! No! It's not what you think!" The boy you had helped was trying to repair the damage with hasty words. "Yes! Eddie literally said that!" Dustin insisted, causing gestures of frustration in the others, hands on their foreheads, mouths covered in an attempt to silence the truth. You didn't want to admit it, but the words affected you, a lot. After Sinclair's confession, you expected something more, something different. You then decided to put on the mask of indifference, pretending that Eddie's absence didn't matter to you, that his presence or lack of it were equally insignificant. You focused on the game, on the chips and dice, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of 'what ifs'. The game continued, but your heart was playing its own game, one where the rules were unclear and the only opponent was yourself.

Sunday dawned with a gray sky that seemed to reflect your mood. You got out of bed with the heaviness of someone carrying more than the weight of the sheets. College assignments were piled up on your desk, a mountain of words and numbers demanding your attention, but your mind was somewhere else, lost in the echo of a revelation that still echoed in your ears. With every page you turned, every problem you solved, Eddie's image was superimposed on the text, blurry and persistent. Night fell without you realizing it, and with it, the promise of a new day.

Monday came without classes, a small relief in your routine. Your mother, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you, asked you to pick up your sister from high school. You accepted, almost grateful for the distraction, for the chance to get outside and breathe fresh air. You arrived at the school and parked calmly. Soft music filled the space of the car, a melody that tried, unsuccessfully, to calm the waves of your heart. You got lost in your thoughts, looking towards the small forest that stretched like a green blanket beyond the institute, remembering the moments of hanging out with your friends to smoke while hiding from everyone. That's when you saw it. Eddie, accompanied by a girl, entering the forest. Alone. The scene hit you like a punch in the stomach, mixing alarm with sadness and, above all, with anger that burned through your veins. How could he be with another girl after what they had shared just less than two weeks ago?

The car clicked off, the keys still dangling from the ignition, forgotten. You got out of the vehicle, driven by an anger that blinded you. You left behind the responsibility of waiting for your sister, each step towards the woods fueled by the need to confront Eddie, to demand explanations, to understand why he hadn't shown up on Saturday, why he had left you with a heart full of questions and no response.

You walked with a determination that seemed to emanate from every pore of your skin, your fists clenched so tightly that your nails, long and sharp, dug into the palm of your hands, leaving small marks that would be silent witnesses of your contained fury. Your boots, faithful companions of so many days, hit the wet ground with a force that seemed to want to leave a mark not only on the earth but on destiny itself. The mud, stubborn, adhered to the edges of these, as if it wanted to stop you, but nothing could stop your progress. The girl, the one who had come out of the forest, passed by your side, her presence just a fleeting shadow in your visual periphery. For an instant, doubt made you recalculate, but it was just that, an instant. Your determination strengthened and you continued forward, towards the place that Eddie had made into his personal sanctuary. The bank in the middle of the forest was a silent witness of transactions and secrets. Worn by time and the stories he had endured, he proudly displayed his growing moss and cigarette burn scars on the picnic table. The trees surrounded it in an almost perfect circle, as if nature itself had decided to protect that space from intruders. And there was Eddie, oblivious to the world, with his only Walkman for company, moving his head to the rhythm of music that only he could hear. He counted dollars and cents with a precision that belied the apparent nonchalance of his posture.

You approached him, who had his back turned to you, oblivious to the storm of emotions that brought you there. With a decision that admitted no turning back, you turned him around forcefully, forcing him to face you, to look into your eyes. Surprise was drawn on his face, an unexpected and unmanly scream escaped his lips, while he took off his helmets with a speed born of bewilderment. "Shit, what are you doing—?" He began to say, but his question remained suspended in the air, interrupted by your hand that closed on his shirt, bringing him closer until the space between the two of them was almost erased. "Listen to me carefully, Munson, I think you have to explain a lot of things to me..." your voice was a thread of annoyance, but also of a determination that he didn't expect, feeling a tickle in his stomach. Eddie looked at you, and you saw something in his eyes that disconcerted you. It wasn't fear, or even surprise. It was a glow, a spark of something that seemed dangerously close to taste. Did he like that intensity, that fire you had inside? Or was it just another of his facades, another game in which he pretended not to be vulnerable?

"Explanations?" he replied, with a crooked smile that you didn't know if you wanted to erase or deepen. "What exactly do you want to know?" His tone was challenging, but there was a curiosity in his gaze that you couldn't ignore. "Besides, what are you doing here? Didn't you finish high school a year or two ago?"

The tension between you and Eddie was palpable, like a guitar string about to break. "What the fuck do you mean by what explanations?" you repeated, keeping your tone firm and defiant. Eddie's confident smile faded, replaced by an expression of surprise as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "We fucked, Eddie. We fucked, so I thought you liked me, but at meet-up time you don't show up and tell the guys you didn't want to see me? Are you stupid or something?" The words came out of you like bullets, each one loaded with the confusion and pain of feeling rejected, something that never happened, so it hurt your ego. You let go of Eddie's shirt, your hands finding his place on your hips, emphasizing your defiant stance. You were dressed to impress, or perhaps to confront. Your tight, ripped and slightly flared jeans were typical of the time, a cry of rebellion and style that adhered to your figure. The belt, an accessory that marked your waist, seemed to capture Eddie's attention, who was lost in contemplation of it, taken out of his thoughts by the intensity of your reproaches. Eddie blinked, coming to, and for a moment, he seemed to search for the right words. "It's not what you think," he began, his voice a little lower, a little more serious.

The tension in the air was almost tangible, like electricity before a storm. "Oh, right? So what is it, huh? Excuse yourself," you demanded, your words sharp as the red fingernails that were now pointed at him, a perfect contrast to your small maroon jean jacket. Eddie seemed lost, unable to find the right words. “It's just...that...” his voice trailed off, and with each syllable that trailed off, your frustration grew. Your brow was furrowed, a grimace of disgust was drawn on your face, and without thinking about it, you grabbed him by the cheeks. Your nails, now weapons of your anger, dug lightly into his cheeks, scratched by the shadow of a stubble. Eddie had never seen you like this, with such fierce passion, and that, somehow, seemed to light a different fire in him, a desire that grew with each gesture of your discontent. "Speak up, Eddie! You have no right to leave me like this, with doubts and no answers," you continued, your voice a crescendo of mixed emotions. "After everything that's happened, you avoid me and send messages through others? It's unfair and you know it!" Munson finally raised his gaze, meeting yours. There was something in his eyes, a flash of something that wasn't just surprise or fear of your reaction. It was deeper, a mix of regret and something you didn't dare name. "It's not what you think," he said finally, his voice firm but soft.

Eddie looked at you with eyes that seemed to seek refuge in yours, his voice trembling slightly as he confessed, "It's just that I'm a loser and you mean a lot to me..." The words hung in the air, loaded with raw sincerity. and vulnerable. "I didn't pay attention to you after fucking because I didn't want to be discovered at that moment, otherwise we would be the subject of ridicule." He paused, as if each word cost him a piece of his pride. "I didn't show up to the meeting because I knew I would get hard and it would be weird, which I didn't think you would see very well, so I excused myself to the boys with the excuse that I didn't want to see you." His confession was a labyrinth of emotions, a clumsy attempt to protect something that he himself didn't fully understand. And then, with a look that drifted toward the ground, he added, "And I haven't been able to contact you because my uncle has had problems with his diabetes and the only times I've left the house were to sell, you know, as you can see right now. I swear..." His gestures were limited, restricted by the pressure your fingers exerted on his cheeks.

Hearing him, guilt took over you, you let go of his face and looked at him, this time with an expression that mixed understanding with remorse. Eddie felt the cold on his skin where the warmth of your hand used to be. "No, no, you can leave your hand here, if you want... ..." he teased, attempting a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a forced laugh that desperately sought to relieve the tension of the moment.

Eddie stood up with a slowness that seemed to measure every second, his commanding height creating a shadow over you. You looked up, following the contour of his figure until your eyes met his, half-closed and shining with a mischievous light.

His smile, that familiar curve of his lips, enveloped you in a spell that you didn't want to escape. With a softness that contrasted the roughness of her skin, her hand found your neck, sliding to the back of your neck in a possessive gesture. "Let me clarify that that wasn't just one night, really..." The confession came out of him in a whisper, his voice a thread of vulnerability intertwined with the firmness of his words. For an instant, his gaze averted, as if the emotions he carried inside him sought to escape. But you weren't about to let him walk away from her, not now. Your hand acted of its own volition, drawing his attention back to you, demanding the connection you both knew existed. A knowing smile appeared on his face, a reflection of yours, while a part of him longed for you to repeat the gesture, to maintain that contact that seemed to be the only anchor in the whirlwind of feelings that surrounded you.

The atmosphere around them was a mixture of tension and electricity, as if the air itself was charged with the intensity of their emotions. The forest had become a private sanctuary, the tall and majestic trees formed a natural roof that filtered the sun's rays, creating a play of light and shadows on them. The ground was covered in fallen leaves, which crunched softly under their feet, a reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

The physical contact between them was its own language, a wordless conversation where each touch and each gesture had its own meaning. Eddie's hand on the back of your neck wasn't just a touch; It was an affirmation, a silent promise that what was between you transcended the everyday. His rough skin contrasted with the softness of yours, creating a sensation that made you want to get even closer.

Your hands, although they had been weapons of your anger moments before, now became explorers, tracing the contours of his face, feeling the texture of his skin, the firmness of his jaw. The pressure of your fingers was an echo of the pressure in your chest, a mixture of desire and need for understanding.

Eddie responded to your every touch, his body instinctively reacting to yours. There was a dance in their proximity, one step forward and one step back, as if they were on the edges of an emotional precipice, seeking the perfect balance between confession and reserve.

The boy remained waiting full of impatience, his eyes fixed on you, shining with the expectation of what was to come. It was as if he had cast a spell, and you, responding to that silent call, grabbed onto a strand of his long, dark hair, tugging at it with a playful but determined gesture. In one fluid motion, you pulled him towards you, and your lips met in a kiss that sealed all the unspoken words, a kiss that was a promise and a confession at the same time. Eddie's hand, which until then rested on your neck, began its slow but sure descent, tracing the contour of your collarbone before settling on the curve of your waist. His fingers, strong but careful, caressed the skin exposed by your shirt, exploring every inch with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his gaze and exchange of saliva. It was a caress that spoke of possession, an intimate connection that united you beyond the physical, but right now it was what you were looking for.

The metallic melody of Eddie's headphones, now a persistent hum, becomes the backdrop for a moment that feels suspended in time. The wet whisper of your kisses transforms into a secret language, communicating unspoken desires that only you can understand. Eddie, with a determination that leaves you breathless, he spins you around with gravity-defying skill, leaving you with your back to the bench, where your butt rested on the surface littered with tobacco flakes, adding a rough texture to the scene. You were trapped between that cool surface and Eddie's firm crotch, which pulsed with desire, sending shivers down your spine, which was caressed by Eddie's hand. A shared sigh escaped your lips as you felt the reconnection of that pressure, fueling the erotic tension that intensified with each moment.

Eddie's tongue lasciviously explored from your mouth to your neck, tracing a trail of sensations that made you sway slightly, sliding back onto the picnic table, followed by your neck, giving him just enough room. While Eddie concentrated on his task, he firmly grabbed your sturdy thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the table, causing the money counted earlier to slide on the wet grass on the floor, a detail that added a note of chaos to the scene, increasing the intensity of the moment. Each bill and coin was lost in the undergrowth, as a metaphor for the debauchery and overflowing passion that consumed them.

"I want to fuck you right here. I want to take that stupid belt off you and choke you with it," Eddie said, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, his words reverberating in the tension-laden air. You gasped as you broke the kiss for air, his hot breath brushing against your wet neck, leaving a new electric trail on your skin. His hands, eager and determined, slid down your lower back, searching for the belt that promised to release the pent-up desire.

Eddie ran his hands anxiously down your abdomen, urgently undoing your belt as your eyes were fixed on his desperate expression. Around you, the world seemed to fade away in a swirl of colors and sounds, leaving only room for the electricity that flowed between the two of you. With a quick tug, Eddie undid your belt, making you wobble slightly as he looked at you with a devilish grin, nimbly folding it. The rustling of the leaves in the wind intermingled with the accelerated beating of your hearts, creating an atmosphere full of tension. "What would happen to that eyeliner of yours if I smacked you in the face?" he asked sarcastically, each word ringing with defiant energy. "Would he cum from your tears, or would I be the only one who would?"

Your playful response brought a flicker of desire to Eddie's eyes, which burned brightly as he watched you. "Why don't you see for yourself?" you challenged with an innocent but mischievous look, causing the tension between you to reach a new level.

Eddie obeyed with a malicious smile, giving you a sudden spank on your cheek, causing you to emit a moan of pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. The sound echoed through the air, mixing with the rustle of leaves moving in the nearby breeze. A slight redness appeared at the site of impact, marking your skin with a warm, burning tone, while your breathing quickened, full of anticipation. Meanwhile, the palpable tension between them increased, making each brush of fabric against skin feel more intense. Eddie's cock, imprisoned in her boxers, pulsed with a exquisite sensitivity, as if she were eager to break free and join the game they were both playing.

Eddie, almost instinctively, pressed his erection, imprisoned by his rock jeans, against your groin, eager to free himself. There was a tangible electricity in the surrounding environment, as if nature itself was aware of the burning desire manifesting between you.

“You look like a bitch in heat,” you teased Eddie with a mischievous smile, as your delicate hands slid to his skull-adorned belt buckle, undoing it with deliberate slowness. Each click of the buckle resonated in the air, generating a slight tremor in Eddie, who awaited with anticipation what was about to happen. His erection rubbed against the fabric, causing involuntary movements that did not go unnoticed by you, unleashing a mischievous laugh that escaped your lips, full of complicity.

You released Eddie from his belt, letting him fall nonchalantly behind you as you focused on pulling his pants down enough to show his erection, remaining careful that he could quickly pull them up if someone showed up.

Seeing his covered but noticeable cock, you licked your lips in anticipation, reveling in the sight. Eddie's white boxers were soaked with precum, revealing the level of his arousal. Your gaze fell on his crotch, where his erection was begging to be touched and pleasured. Without further ado, you pulled down his boxers, leaving light marks on his thighs from the rubbing of your nails, which caused his arched cock to release completely, hitting his clothed abdomen with a light sound. The arousal in the air was palpable, and his cock throbbed eagerly, twitching slightly in anticipation of what was to come.

Determinedly, you wrap your hand around Eddie's firm erection, beginning to pump at a slow but steady pace. A content sigh escapes her parted lips as his body tenses at the contact, letting out a barely audible moan that is lost in the air charged with excitement. His trembling hand finds its way to your hair, gripping it firmly as his mouth curves into a mischievous smile. Every movement you make provokes a response in his body, a slight contraction of his muscles, a ragged inhalation that adds to the ambient noise.

The sound of skin rubbing against skin mixes with the rustle of the breeze rustling nearby leaves, creating a symphony of pleasure and anticipation. Your hand continues to move skillfully, gradually quickening the pace, as Eddie's breathing becomes more labored, his moans more audible.

Every time your thumb brushes the sensitive tip of his member, his body shudders involuntarily, and his moans intensify, filling the air with a heady mix of arousal and desire.

With provocative elegance, you slide from the table you were sitting at, moving gracefully until you are on your knees in front of Eddie. From that lower position, you look at him with a look full of desire and eagerness to please him, while a playful smile curves your lips. Leaning forward slightly, you open your mouth in a clear sign of your intentions, indicating your willingness to take his cock in your mouth. Anticipation shines in Eddie's eyes, his breathing becoming more labored as he watches you with a mix of desire and arousal.

Without warning, in a provocative act, you playfully open your mouth, inviting him to immerse himself in the pleasure you offer him. Eddie's hand, which was firmly gripping your hair, pushes you decisively, forcing his cock forcefully into your mouth. You feel the sudden onslaught of his member, causing a strong tremor in his body as he experiences the humidity, heat, softness and tightness of your mouth. The intoxicating sensation of having him inside you awakens a wave of pleasure that runs through every fiber of your being, noticing how those jeans that you considered favorites began to get wet due to the transfer of your panties.

A deep, desire-laden moan escapes Eddie's lips as he pronounces your name between broken breaths. His voice, full of passion and desire, resonates in the air, further fueling the fiery moment. “Ahh... fuck...” he moans your name, revealing the overwhelming effect you have on him. You give yourself fully to the act, letting desire and arousal consume you completely, as you dive deeper into the pleasure of giving Eddie exactly what he craves.

Eddie’s hands grip the sides of your face with palpable determination, like he’s eager to explore every inch of your mouth. He begins to move at a frenetic pace, fucking your mouth with an unbridled passion that leaves you breathless. Little by little, his member reaches the beginning of your throat, causing an intense sensation that makes you shudder. A gag escapes your throat, caused by Eddie's deep intrusion, but he doesn't stop, instead continuing to thrust hard, causing pleasure mixed with slight pain that makes your moans intermingle with his. The feeling of his tip lightly crushing your palate only intensifies the ecstasy shared between the two of you, causing louder, deeper moans from Eddie.

You could feel Eddie getting closer to climax, his ragged breathing and higher-pitched moans indicating he was on the brink of release. However, something else was seeping into your consciousness: close footsteps, a sound that didn't fit the intimate atmosphere you shared with Eddie. Worry began to bubble inside you as you continued to do your duty, but unease took over. The desire to find out who was interrupting this private but at the same time public moment grew with each closer step, but Eddie's firm grip on your face kept you trapped, preventing you from moving away. With concentrated effort, you fought against his hold until you finally managed to free yourself enough to separate yourself from his cock.

You pulled away from Eddie's cock with a sharp movement, feeling his cream slide between your fingers. Your eyes met those of the step holders, two figures who looked at you with a surprise that seemed carved into their faces. "Eddie?" the Sinclair's voice cracked, revealing his bewilderment, while your sister remained at his side, a motionless silhouette in the chaos of the moment. "Sinclair!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the murmur of the forest as you realized he was holding a used and tied condom, a crucial link in the chain of events unfolding before you. The long-haired man's erection, now abandoned by his misfortune, collapsed, and a torrent of almost translucent white liquid spread across your face, hiding your shocked expression.

Eddie's deep moan that followed this echoed through the forest, marking the end of one act and the beginning of another. Eddie, Sinclair, and your sister looked at you, their expressions a mirror of absolute shock. None of the four of you knew how to react, trapped in a moment of mutual transgression, a game of secrets and silences that had been broken by Eddie's cum on your face.

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sapphirelass · 7 months

Text

In my Blood ~ Will Solace x Sister!Reader

Hi you guys! Wow, it's been over a year😅 I'm still working toward my uni degree (physics, maths and upper secondary school education for those of you who don't know), spending time with my boyfriend, hanging out with friends, and visiting my family as often as I can. I promise I have done a fair bit of writing this past year, just not finished anything... But, here we are! Really looking forward to the PJO-series, but while we're all waiting, here's a Will imagine because Will is great <3

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To read as xOC, click here

Words: 2500 ish

Warnings: injury, blood, wounds, angst (normal demigod stuff really, but you know)

Please note that English isn't my first language! I have studied it for over a decade, and speak it fluently, but there might still be some grammatical errors and a mix of British/American expressions - thanks for understanding :)

y/n - your name

y/n/n - your nickname

she/her reader

Enjoy! :)

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“Get down!” she shouted, as a giant, angry, terrifying cyclops approached them. “Listen closely now; do you see that huge pine tree over there? And the statue? Run past them, and you’ll find people who’ll help. I’ll try to buy you as much time as possible!”

The two seven-year-old half-bloods that had just been saved and brought to camp (well, almost anyway) sat off towards the border, as (y/n) Solace, daughter of Apollo, stayed behind and pulled her sword out. She was a way more advanced archer than swordfighter, but the one bow she had brought with her had fallen out of her firm grip as she jumped behind a boulder for cover. She had made an attempt at getting it back, however, that just resulted in her body coming crashing to the ground as the cyclops’ hand collided with her chest, while the bow ended up in between the hard ground and the monster’s massive foot… (Y/n) threw her head back and sighed at the sight of her trusty old weapon in pieces, and it wasn’t until she tried to push herself back up on her feet that she noticed a terrible pain spreading through her left arm from her elbow. It hurt badly, but since she didn’t have much of a choice, (y/n), suddenly feeling slightly dizzy, pushed herself back up with her other hand and looked for another road to victory.

After a few minutes of trying to attack the monster with her sword, but repeatedly failing since getting close enough without getting hit herself proved to be very difficult, (y/n) quickly ran in a circle around the monster causing him to stumble - if only for a second. She wasted no time launching herself at the cyclops with her sword and - *SPLASH*. The sharp, metal blade bore deep into the slimy eye, and the cyclops staggered backwards, slowly disintegrating. (y/n) was just about to take a deep breath when she felt a stinging sensation in her abdomen. Briefly glancing down, she winced as she realized what had happened. The monster must have grabbed one of her arrows from the quiver she had thrown onto the ground, and, rather violently judging by the amount of blood oozing through her orange t-shirt, pushed one into her side.

Being a demigod, (y/n) had obviously suffered multiple injuries before, though never quite ones as bad as this. The bottom half of her shirt was now more red than orange, and she could feel the world spinning slightly. Groaning, she sat down against a tree and inspected the wound carefully. She wanted to pull the arrow out, but her twin brother Will had always strongly argued against doing something just like that. A vague memory of him saying something along the lines of “the weapon possibly being the only thing keeping you from losing too much blood”... Sighing, she started to slowly make her way toward camp but didn’t make it very far before stumbling over her own feet and falling forwards on the cold hard ground. (Y/n) coughed up something that looked like a mixture of spit and blood before pushing herself to her feet again with the help of her sword. It wasn’t a speedy process, but she kept walking in the direction of the infirmary, stopping to catch her breath every few steps.

---

“(y/n/n)?!” She only had a few hundred meters to go when two of her closest friends - Travis and Connor Stoll - came running towards her with worried faces. Typically when the brothers approached someone together in this way it was with mischievous smiles on their faces and usually followed by a prank of some sort, but not this time. “What in the name of the gods happened to you?”, Travis asked, as Connor carefully placed (y/n)’s right arm across his shoulders to help support her. “We ran into some new kids who said you’d picked a fight with a giant?”

“Oh hardly…”, she demonstrated. “If anyone picked a fight it was him! And besides, it was just a normal cyclops, and not even a very big one.” She winced slightly when Travis smiled and grabbed her other arm, but started walking more steadily thanks to the brothers. “But my bow broke, and - friendly advice - don’t try to take out a cyclops with nothing but a sword.”

“You should put that on a T-shirt.”, Travis joked but shut up quickly when (y/n)’s knees buckled and she stumbled again. He sent her a worried glance as Connor spoke up.

“So, what happened? How bad off are you really?”

She told them the story as they walked slowly down the hill and across the volleyball court. They were right by the big house when (y/n) finished the story.

“Gods…”, Connor mumbled, changing his grip around his friend’s shoulder to give her even more support. “You know Will’s gonna kill you himself this time, right?”. (Y/n) was about to answer him when someone opened the door to the infirmary and beat her to it.

“Who do I have to kill? I swear, if Nico is shadow travelling like a madman agai- Oh Gods!”, Will interrupted himself, a look of horror on his face as he was met with the sight of his twin sister barely able to stand up, and covered from head to toe in blood, mud, and dirt. “(y/n/n), what happened?!” He examined her quickly before holding the door open so the Hermes boys could get in and slowly lay (y/n) on one of the bunks.

“It’s a bit of a story, and I don’t know if I feel like repeating it again right now”, she said weakly, wincing a bit as Will swiftly pulled her worn jean jacket off, “but the short version is that a cyclops punched me and I have an arrow through my stomach… And probably a broken arm too. And I might have hit my head when I fell… it, eh, hurts a bit…”

“Gods…”, Will sighed, “Well, do you feel nauseous? Disorientated? Can you see clearly or is anything blurry?”

“Eh… a little dizzy maybe, and a weak headache, but my sight is fine and I’m not feeling sick.”

“Right”, Will mumbled as he wiped a small amount of blood from his sister’s forehead and briefly inspected the small wound. “Something positive I suppose…”. He put a small bandaid on it to slow the bleeding down at least momentarily, before moving to look at his sister’s arm which was indeed bent in a rather weird way. “Well, head-related injuries are always scary, I’ll have to examine it further to know how bad it actually is. The arm is absolutely broken - annoying, but fixable - though this arrow…” He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through her T-shirt so that he could get to the wound. “Jeez, (y/n/n)… How long have you been bleeding?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not sure, it feels like an eternity, but an hour maybe?”

“AN HOUR?!” Will tried to stay calm, but his now pale face told another story. “Holy… Okay, eh, (y/n/n), I’m gonna… I have to get the arrow out and stop the bleeding as fast as I can, you- you’ve already lost way too much blood. Let's just hope that it missed anything vital.”

He whispered the last part, but (y/n) hardly heard the rest either, as she slowly but steadily started drifting off to sleep. “Sure thing… You do that, I’m just gonna doze off for a quick sec…”

“Oh no, you’re not!” Will dropped what he was holding and grabbed her shoulders to shake her gently. “(Y/n/n), I get that you’re exhausted, but you have to stay awake. As I said, you lost a lot of blood, and you may have a concussion. Sorry, I’m not even gonna argue with you - you’re not falling asleep.”

He turned back to the brothers who were watching from afar, wanting to know what happened but also not being in the way. “Connor, Travis, you have to keep her talking while I work, okay?”

“Sure”, Travis nodded, as Connor grabbed (y/n)’s right hand again. “Wanna tell us about the new kids?”

“Yeah”, Connor added. “They seem cool!”

“They are…” (y/n) moved a bit, carefully letting Will remove the piece of her T-shirt that he had cut off to get to the wound. “Only seven years old, fighters both of them. They ran away from different orphanages in Vermont and took down a basilisk together in Albany and have taken care of each other si- AHHHHH.”

She let out a harsh scream as her brother swiftly pulled what was left of the arrow out of her chest, and would probably have rolled off the bed if not for the Stoll brothers holding her down as Will apologised profusely.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n/n)”, he mumbled sadly, as he handed Travis a big piece of ambrosia, “but that was the worst of it. You’re doing really well, just hold on. You should try to have some ambrosia now that the arrow’s out.” She struggled to take a few shallow breaths as the extreme pain slowly began to fade again, but nodded and accepted the small piece of godly food Travis was offering her. The pain instantly lessened even more as the flavour of her mother’s gingerbread cookies combined with a touch of magic consumed her whole being. (Y/n) finally took a really deep breath, but when she exhaled it felt as if every single drop of energy she had been grasping onto left her at once. She allowed herself to close her eyes and immediately began drifting off to sleep, the worried voices of Will, Travis, and Connor simply fading into silence.

---

(Y/n) was desperate for a few hours of peaceful rest, but unfortunately sleep and nightmares tended to almost always go hand in hand for demigods. She relived the last 24 hours in her sleep, everything from leaving camp in the early morning feeling excited to bring some new kids back to the exhausting battle that could have ended badly if not for the cyclops’ inability to stay on its feet. During the actual fight, it had happened so quickly that she hadn’t even noticed it at first, but this time she could clearly see how the monster roughly yanked a sharp arrow from her quiver and began making his way back towards her. She lay flat on the ground, desperately trying to move out of the way, but she couldn’t. It was as if all her muscles suddenly decided to to take any more orders from her brain. The cyclops lifted his arm, getting ready to deliver the final blow, as (y/n) closed her eyes, starting to accept her fate.

It felt as if time itself stopped. All she could hear was her own shaky breathing - until suddenly it wasn’t… There was a also voice, far away, sure, but still clearly there…

“(Y/n/n)? Please wake up! C’mon!”

It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint who it belonged to. She focused and tried to listen for the voice again, but she was so exhausted… Giving in to the darkness felt so inviting… And simple. She could do with simple for once.

“No, no, no!” The voice cracked, panic and desperation shining through. “Don’t you dare give up now! C’mon, (y/n), I’m here, I’ve got you! Don’t give up… please…”

She was so close to slipping away, but something about that seemed wrong, and the reassuring words plus the comforting feeling brought to her by the sound of the familiar voice gave her precisely the boost of energy she needed. Shaking herself out of the nightmare, (y/n) inhaled sharply before shooting up, her eyes darting around the room until someone gently placed their hands on her shoulders, causing her to meet their gaze.

“(y/n)!”

She blinked a few times, shaking violently as she began realizing where she was. “Will?”

“Oh Gods!” He hugged her tightly, perhaps a bit too tight, but it didn’t matter in that moment - the 16-year-old was just so incredibly relieved to see that his sister was alright. “You’re alive!”

(Y/n)’s breathing evened out again as she leaned into her brother. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry…”

He didn’t let go of her arms, but moved back slightly and sent her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

“I… I just… I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Gods, (y/n/n), I always worry.” He moved closer again. “I’m just happy you’re okay! I mean, it’ll be a while before you’re back doing quests of course”, he sent her a serious look, “but the fact that you woke up is a good sign”.

(Y/n) accepted the ambrosia piece Will offered to her before answering. “All thanks to you.”

“Well”, he shrugged, “your body did most of the hard work...” (Y/n) shook her head at Will’s modesty before starting to push herself off the bed to stand up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!! Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”, Will exclaimed, swiftly pushing her back down. "You have been unconscious for over four days and lost so much blood, and that’s not even mentioning your head, arm or other random scratches. You’re staying here at least until Friday, no discussion.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, secretly feeling very lucky to have a brother as caring as Will. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just need to stretch my legs for a second, please? Help me out?"

Will didn’t look too happy with the idea, but understood how stiff she must be feeling after so many days and nodded. It wasn’t like (y/n) wanted to get up and run, she still felt really tired and weak. However, after that horrifying moment of helplessness that she experienced in her dream, just the confirmation that she could in fact still move her arms and legs was incredibly comforting. When everything felt normal, she tried a few careful steps and immediately stumbled, but didn’t fall thanks to Will’s support.

“Light-headed?”

“Yeah, a bit…”

“Alright, that’s enough, back you go.” He guided her back to the bed, and she lay her head back down on the pillow.

"There we go!", Will smiled, "can I get you anything?"

"A cup of tea, please? Red, no honey?"

"You’ve got it!"

Five minutes later Will returned, balancing two cups of tea and a cheese sandwich on a tray. "Who ordered the tea and sandwich?", he asked jokingly as he sat the tray on the bed. He placed some pillows against the wall and slowly helped his sister sit up against them. “That would be me", she smiled. Will also sat down on the bed and put an arm around (y/n). She took a small bite of the sandwich and leaned her head on her brother's shoulder. The siblings drank their tea in silence, enjoying the feeling of being together and safe, if only for the night.

//L masterlist

158 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 6 months

Text

In the mood for...

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1. ITMF a fic where the Lans or the neis or the cultivation world in general find out about the abuse wwx takes at jiang sect and the other sects trying to help him @zerokogane

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2. Have you all seen maze runner? Yeah. I want a wangxian maze runner version/fusion/setting/same plot or something!!

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3. A) ITMF fics where, in a wedding Wei Ying catches the flowers/bouquet brides throw?

Itmf fics where B) wwx is like a mystery unsolved to anyone and everyone

C) wwx is a magician. Like those cool tricky people uk. Could be real / fake magic. @constellationdks

3B)

Old Foreshadows by protos_metazu_ison (M, 15k, WangXian, YLLZ WWX, BAMF WWX, War, Universe Alteration, Sunshot Campaign) not sure i'm understanding the request, but maybe one of these?

🔒 never been away so long by sundiscus (G, <1k, wangxian, Modern, Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Ambiguous/Open Ending, (but a happy ending in the endnotes!), Ghosts)

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4. Hello, thank you, my favorite fic comes from your recs. Any fic recs for lan xichen x jiang yanli. No modern era please @dramaqueenrolf

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5. hii, for the next imtf can I ask for a fic where lwj and wwx break up and r mopey about it? a modern au maybe, like there's no promised goodbye here

thank you!! @mercurygirlwt28

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6. Hello! I have a read fics where the characters cultivate to immortality and the story picks up with their lives in modern era. I like the combo of traditional clothes, cultures, and canon personalities in the modern setting. Are there more fics like this? (I cannot remember the names of the two I have read in the past. In one I think WWX loses his memory and regains it upon backpacking to modern Cloud Recesses? In the other WWX time travels to modern and meets LWJ who has lived all those years.)

ridiculous future bullshit by sami (M, 61k, wangxian, WQ/JC/LXC, LSZ & WWX, LSZ/Other(s), LSZ & his family, JYL/OMC, Future Fic, movies, the rewriting of history if the past was different the future is different, But still ridiculous, Humor, the evolution of fashion, immortals through history, LWJ visits other cultures and judges them, Modern, best boy LSZ, Pride Parades, Cats, the legend of WQ, Academia, Border Crossings, biosecurity, oz quarantine is SERIOUS BUSINESS, Kinda cultivated to immortality, Paperwork, Family, Parents and Children, Uncles and nephews, the mortifying ordeal of your family seeing how you really live, Social Media, Chaos Gremlin WWX, Slight Hostage Situations, University, outsider pov, WWX vs Local Culture, actions have consequences, Pets, Movie Stars, Fluff) though it’s a sequel to And Time Is But A Paper Moon so some people are immortal in RFB who died in canon.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to dig up one of my favorite tropes from my bookmarks!! The Future is Ours to Keep series by makebelieveanything & nerdzeword (T, 25k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & YZY, JYL/LQY/WQ, post-canon, modern, immortality, reincarnation, healthy family relationships, epistolary, groupchats, fluff) Some beloved cast is immortal in modern times, some reincarnated

Ever Thine, Ever Mine, Ever Ours. by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 3k, WangXian, Immortal LWJ and WWX, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Well it could be a Bittersweet Ending, Love Confessions) Wangxian are immortal, but have pined for a thousand years, and (spoiler!!!) they do get together but mind the bittersweet ending!!!!!!

dark and glimmering by Sanguis (T, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, modern, technology malfunction, established relationship, married couple, immortality) Beautiful and wangxian-centric, not so much about the modern world. But the world is around

Wandering Souls, Wild Ghosts by belleweather (E, 49k, wangxian, post-canon, victorian au, case fic, rentboys, smut, married wangxian, immortality, canon-typical violence, period-typical sexism & racism & homophobia, voyeurism, families of choice) Victorian England with immortal!wangxian’s adventures!

Traditions Series by Witch_Nova221 (G, 7k, WangXian, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Christmas Presents, Modern with Magic, modern day cultivators, Cloud Recesses, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, family traditions, wangxian family feels, Romance, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, immortal cultivators)

A Tale of Two Immortals by esk95 (M, 31k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Post-Canon, Like waaaaay Post-Canon Modern AU, but cultivation still exists, Immortality, Reincarnation, Pretty much everyone is a reincarnation except Wangxian, Secret Identities, Modern with Magic, Immortal!Wangxian) A beloved wip: Immortal wangxian try to solve a mystery, poor Sizhui just wants to be a cultivator and have support of his parents who don’t know anything about cultivation (lol), a lot of reincarnated folk around

MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (E, 82k, WangXian, XiCheng, Explicit Sexual Content, Immortals) The summary says it all: “In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.”

All Old Things are New Again Series by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 59k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, Reincarnation, Modern AU, canon still happened, extreme post canon, Sugar Daddy, Kink Negotiation, gentle dom!LWJ, canonical levels of consent play, Modern Cultivators, Epilogues, yunmeng bros reconciliation, rabbit acquisition) has some immortal lwj and lxc with reincarnation wwx,and it's amazing.

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7. ITMF fics which have wwx's ghosts. Remember ghost brides? And that ghoul child? They don't have to have a major part or something, just the fuc having wwx talking and being friends with ghosts.

It can also have the ghosts taking care of wwx. Loving him and all uk

when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations) if you're okay with OC ghosts I highly recommend When the Sun Goes Out by travelingneuritis, it's one of my favorite fics and wwx's relationship with his ghost army (Kaichuang in particular) is one of the reasons why

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) WWX has a ghost companion who helps him & acts as a mother figure towards him

let the sun go down on your anger; let it burn you to sleep by enbysaurus_rex (Not rated, 86k, wangxian, WQ & WWX, graphic depictions of violence, chronic illness, narcolepsy, chronic pain, YLLZ WWX, oblivious WWX, sleeping beauty elements, body horror, WIP) has pretty much every one of Wei Wuxian's ghosts playing a part and teaming up with his family to help take care of him in their own way

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8. hii, for the itmf

are there any fics w the trope "someone who believes they're hard to love and someone who loves then like it's breathing?

I hope ure having a nice day!!

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9. Any fics where yu ziyuan treats wwx like a son or nephew??

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

Sail Away Sweet Sister by sami (M, 73k, WangXian, YZY/CSSR/MDM Lan, MingLi, Time Travel, EXTREME Canon Divergence, Wide Focus Narrative, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Most Named/Canon Characters Live, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Parenthood, this work contains a major tonal shift, Fluff, Angst, Underage Sex, not particularly explicit, but not at all ambiguous, PTSD, Only a tiny bit, Unforeseeable consequences, The butterfly effect, Slightly Dark JYL, Asexual Characters, but that’s not really the focus, Canon-Typical Violence) Also most of sami's time travel fics. this one for sure, probably a few others in the Same Moon series

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending) it's mostly late in the fic but "across the street to another life" REALLY earns that "medium parent yu ziyuan" tag. Far from perfect but really steps up when it matters.

Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

The Best Gift by Lan_Wangjoe (E, 45k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Miscommunication Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff, Family Dynamics, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Dorks in Love, Nice LQR, Meet the Family, Nerdiness, Science Boyfriends, Science Experiments, Fake Science, Science Husbands, Geeks, Work Contains Fan(s) or Fandom(s), Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fans & Fandom AU, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adopted Children, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Marriage, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Stupidity, Himbo LXC, Lan Himbos, Lán Family Feels, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Good Parents JFM and YZY, Genius WWX, Geniuses)

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10. Does anybody have anything where it’s just Immortal(one of them could be reincarnated and recultivated immortality) Wangxian being happy through the ages or in modern society? (Preferably modern Cultivation society) @omgnectarina

The Future is Ours to Keep series by makebelieveanything & nerdzeword (T, 25k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & YZY, JYL/LQY/WQ, post-canon, modern, immortality, reincarnation, healthy family relationships, epistolary, groupchats, fluff) (link in #6) Some beloved cast is immortal in modern times, some reincarnated

Ever Thine, Ever Mine, Ever Ours. by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 3k, WangXian, Immortal LWJ and WWX, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Well it could be a Bittersweet Ending, Love Confessions) (link in #6) Wangxian are immortal, but have pined for a thousand years, and (spoiler!!!) they do get together but mind the bittersweet ending!!!!!!

dark and glimmering by Sanguis (T, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, modern, technology malfunction, established relationship, married couple, immortality) (link in #6) Beautiful and wangxian-centric, not so much about the modern world. But the world is around

Wandering Souls, Wild Ghosts by belleweather (E, 49k, wangxian, post-canon, victorian au, case fic, rentboys, smut, married wangxian, immortality, canon-typical violence, period-typical sexism & racism & homophobia, voyeurism, families of choice) (link in #6) Victorian England with immortal!wangxian’s adventures!

A Tale of Two Immortals by esk95 (M, 31k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Post-Canon, Like waaaaay Post-Canon Modern AU, but cultivation still exists, Immortality, Reincarnation, Pretty much everyone is a reincarnation except Wangxian, Secret Identities, Modern with Magic, Immortal!Wangxian) (link in #6) A beloved wip: Immortal wangxian try to solve a mystery, poor Sizhui just wants to be a cultivator and have support of his parents who don’t know anything about cultivation (lol), a lot of reincarnated folk around

MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (E, 82k, WangXian, XiCheng, Explicit Sexual Content, Immortals) (link in #6) The summary says it all: “In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.”

~*~

11. Itmf pregnant wwx doesn’t realize he is pregnant at first. Broody, hormonal, instinctive, etc., can be foxxian but doesn’t have to be. Bonus points if LWJ has it figured out. Any era is fine.

I didn't know I was pregnant! by Haunted_Cheese (G, 1k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Modern AU, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Childbirth, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Pregnant WWX)

🔒Little fall of rain by luckymoonly (M, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, WWX didn't know he was pregnant, Mpreg, Mention of Birth, Family Feels, Nielan himbo rights, soft LQR, Misunderstandings, jealous lwj, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Smut, Breastfeeding, Thirsty Granny Wen, JGS being his usual self)

🔒Surprise Baby! by trulywicked (M, 10k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Didn't know he was pregnant, birthing scene, Little bit of blood, A/B/O Dynamics, Inspired by Twitter, Established Relationship, Fluff)

Blood, Google, and Love by Prairie_Grass (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, they were roommates, A/B/O Dynamics, Getting Together, Mpreg, semi graphic giving birth, Alpha LWJ, Omega wwx, Intersex Omegas, (or you could head-canon WWX as trans if you wanted), Fluff and Angst, the run-on sentences are on-purpose because WWX and LWJ are both:, neurodiverse characters, slightly traumatic birth)

Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal) And the case of 'didn't know I was STILL pregnant'

Does Wei Ying have Covid? by Webawee (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Mpreg, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Established Relationship, Pregnancy, Morning Sickness) there's a hillarious fic called does wei ying have covid? its exactly as it sounds our oblivious baby wwx thinks he has covid when lwj thinks wwx is scared to be pregnant/ anxious and wq is wq its great

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12. (Previous part added to FF)

if you could also recommend fics where lwj rejects wwx at first then feels so guilty about it after seeing/hearing about wwx suffering due to his rejection (just any au with this trope)?? i am a sucker for angst with a happy ending.

we are blessed in this community for all the work that you do, thank you so much! 🙇🏻‍♀️ @emkaii

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending) Basically where WWX confesses, lwj keeps rejecting him, and canon still happens.

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13. Itmf NMJ is everyone’s big brother (also the best brother nmj).

~*~

14. Hey, hope you're well. ITMF Wèi WuXian appreciation fics. (ex- stunted, starving, juvenility, hua xianle) @tinyfoxpeach

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15. Hello! I wonder if there are works, where Wei Ying died from strangulation in the field by the hands of Jiang Cheng? Thank you!

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, canon divergence, time travel, rogue cultivator WWX, no golden core transfer, not cultivation world friendly, not JC friendly, OCs) Might not be what the requester wants? WWX dies in the siege of the Burial Mounds & part of his spirit gets flung through time & latches onto the moment where he is strangled & his heart stopped & goes 'it's free real estate', resulting in a time travel AU where WWX choses to nope the fuck out of the cultivation world. He does die in that moment, but if the requester wants an angsty MCD fic, this ain't it / has Wei Ying die of strangulation but a fragment of his soul returns to that moment and he lives again.

False Catharsis by mondengel (Not Rated, 792, Horror, Angst) WWX dies. It's only 700 words but it hits hard.

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16. Hello~! ITMF hanahaki disease fics, preferably canon setting? In hanahaki trope someone who has unrequited love will grow flowers in their chest until the roots and branches kill them. Basically a curse to wither away in sadness and die unless your love is requited.

Regret Blossoms by piecrust (G, 7k, wangxian, Hanahaki Disease)

This Lantern Shines For You by apollonie (M, 10k, wangxian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, LWJ is a Disaster Gay)

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17. Idk if you'll answer this but do u know any fics where lwj travels back in time to his younger selfs body and gets to change how he was like with wwx? (Bonus points if it was just a dream) thanks!!! 💗

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes) LWJ goes back & changes his decision at Qiongqi Path

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 25k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, Time Travel Fix-It, not JC friendly, not Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect friendly, not Jiāng Family friendly, not YZY friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gūsū Lán Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WIP) LWJ goes back to CRSA

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) Features dark!LWJ. Mind the tags

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