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forzalando · 3 months

Note

hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!

second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk

Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.

Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.

Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.

It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.

At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.

“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”

“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”

“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.

You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”

His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.

“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.

“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.

It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”

“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”

“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.

“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”

Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”

You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.

Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.

“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”

He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.

“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”

“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”

Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.

He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.

“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.

“Sure, Y/N.”

“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”

Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.

“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”

“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”

Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.

Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.

You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”

You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?

When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.

While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.

You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.

“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”

“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’ boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”

Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.

You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.

“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”

Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns – like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”

When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.

He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.

“Max, I’m not – ”

He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”

You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.

Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.

The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.

“It’s morning,” you whispered.

“It is.”

“It’s morning and I still love you.”

He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.

You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.

“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”

“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #forzalando blurb #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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antiquatedplumbobs · 1 year

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Antiquated Brindleton

An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File

This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.

Download and details under the cut:

SAVE DETAILS:

Includes:

Eight new residential lots

Seven new community lots

Six new households

Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.

Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.

Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.

If you’d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.

REQUIREMENTS: I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there. If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits! This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.

CC To Download:

@lilis-palace

FOLKLORE Set

@s-imagination

Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack

@happylifesims

1840s Suspenders Outfit

1900s Male Hunting Fashion

1920s Nightgown

Piteous Outfit

Sylas Fashion Set

Wilbur Outfit

@satterlly

Medieval Nightgown Della

@vroshii

Functional Tennis Set

@vampireloreskill

Antique Standing Camera

Creators Whose CC I Included:

@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)

@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)

@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)

@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)

@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)

@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)

@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)

@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)

@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)

@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)

@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)

@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)

@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)

Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much. Recommended but not required mods:

Timeless by @pandorasimbox

Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)

Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks

Home Regions by Kuttoe

DOWNLOAD: There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.

Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).

The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.

After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot. SFS | Google Drive THANK YOU: To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.

If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!

@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters

#ts4 save file #sims 4 save file #save file #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 build #sims 4 build #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 history challenge #antiquatedbrindleton

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mochinomnoms · 3 months

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Lmao poor yuu being the mate of the twins you just woke up crazy stuff happened last night, and you are greeted by the twins in "Lets be productive with this" mode so even if you have the most confused look on your face the twins keep talking about wedding plans and please you just woke up too much information to analyze and come up with an answer to, they are so focused on "What are we going to do with the family introduction" that they forgot that you aren't someone that was raised with mer customs or traditions and maybe they should explain what is happening to you.. Maybe after breakfast you are still a bit cranky

-Vaquita (hkKkaksksmsuiaksbs domestic tweels hehe *blushes like a whore*)

dis u:

The twins are so strange to you sometimes. You like them a lot (like a lot, what's wrong with you), don't get it twisted, but they are weird. How you managed to make it out of their room and into Azul's office is a question within itself. Azul is looking up at you from his desk, fixing up a contact of some sort, with an unsurprised look on his face.

“Oh good, I take it the twins are also finally awake? Can you bring them over so we can discuss—”

“Azul, they're acting strange.”

The octomer blinked at you, raising a brow as if your statement as obvious.

“Okay?”

“Stranger than usual!” You opened the door behind you, peeking out before slamming it shut and covering it with your body.

“They woke me up with things about meeting their parents, about if they want to live on the surface or give me a transformation potion, and Floyd kept talking about wanting to be in charge of the wedding reception. What wedding is he talking about!?”

“Oh, they must have forgotten you wouldn't have known. Eelmers mate for life, and based on the sounds the entire dorm heard last night, the twins, err…mated with you.”

Azul cringed at the thought, shaking his head. “I've taken the liberty of writing an engagement contract for you three.”

“Huh?”

“Of course, Jade and Floyd will take a look through it, as well as Mr. Leech, or your new father-in-law, if I may say.”

“Wait a sec—”

“Don't worry, morays have a low divorce rate, but even then I've written you a solid prenuptial agreement in the case that one of them does something you don't like. This way, you'll be set for life if you have to go off on your own.”

“Hey! I didn't—oh actually that's really nice of you Azul, wait no! I didn't agree to any—”

The door slammed open as you removed your body weight to walk up to Azul's desk. You're positive that if they'd really wanted to, they could've mowed you down to open the door. But you're their mate now, so they have to take care of you!

“There's our little shrimp! I turned away to getcha another snack, and you managed to sneak away, come 'ere!”

You yelped as Floyd scooped you up in his arms and gave you a loud, wet smooch on the cheek, loose shirt hanging so that you could see the bite marks you left during the night. Jade was wearing more form fitting pajamas, but you could see in the way he cautiously shifted his back that the scratches you'd left on his back were still stinging.

“See Floyd? I told you they'd be with Azul, who looks like is working on a new contract. Am I safe to assume that's the marriage contract I asked you to work on last week?”

Jade kissed your other cheek and chuckled at Azul's deadpan face, the latter darting between you, Floyd and Jade as the twins cooed at your distress. Azul cleared his throat right as you opened your mouth to start cussing them out for acting weird(er).

“It's an engagement contact, actually, which now I'm glad I switched to, because I do believe your little mate there isn't aware of the commitment you've both bound them into. Maybe you three should go back to one of your rooms to discuss before they turn you down and leave you lonely and single forever.”

The twins blinked owlishly at you, then at Azul, and then back at you. You gave them an unamused glare. The two shared a look of worry before rushing back to their bedroom to explain and convince you why being their mate was a good idea (and to please accept them, they only want you).

(It took them nearly three hours of explaining and convincing you to accept the proposal for their anxiety to go down. To be honest, it only took them the first 5 minutes of explaining to make you want to stay as their mate, but you needed some petty revenge for the confusion they caused.)

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #vaquita anon

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so-so-woso · 5 months

Text

i wanna be the one | part 3

Summary: Your first season at Arsenal as told by the highlights of your relationship with Leah Williamson. I don’t know how to write summaries, but this one is mostly angst tbh.

Disclaimer: Artistic liberties were taken in regards to Leah’s thoughts, feelings, and opinions as described in the fourth section. I am not/was not trying to extrapolate any of her actual thoughts, feelings, or opinions about anything mentioned in that section.

Word Count: 3,668

The next couple of months went by pretty quickly, all things considered. There were ups, there were downs, you got your first minutes against Brighton that was a bit of both. It was exciting and you were glad you finally got to play, but you let in a second-half goal that tied the match. A draw was a draw, and not a loss, and it was just one goal, and no one else seemed particularly upset with you specifically, but you certainly were. You imagined it was obvious that goalkeepers don’t like giving up goals, but logically you knew they would happen. It just sucked that you felt like you let the team down in your first real chance to play. After the game, you had gone home and immediately threw up, then lay on your living room floor for a couple hours before going to bed at 7 pm. You had always been someone who took things hard, even as a kid, but this one seemed to hit a little bit harder, presumably because you had already been feeling like you didn’t deserve to be here. But then again, you had pretty much always felt like that too, even as a kid. The worse part, probably, was that it also always made you feel stupid – because on the good days, you felt like you knew the truth, how everyone else saw it, how it was. But on the bad days, you couldn’t see anything but how horrible you were at everything you tried to do. That day was a bad day. Luckily, the next few were pretty good.

Before you knew it, it was March, and you were at Leah’s house celebrating her birthday with the team. You had all gone out to dinner, and then back to hers for cake and drinks. You weren’t really sure if presents were part of the deal, so you had made sure to wear a jacket with a big enough pocket to keep yours in, in case they weren’t part of the deal. You supposed you could’ve asked someone, but you were pretty sure some of the others were starting to pick up on the fact that your flirting with Leah wasn’t entirely a joke. Beth and McCabe had both straight out asked you about it once, and both had also quietly informed you that she didn’t date teammates. Katie had actually said that she didn’t date teammates anymore, but wouldn’t say anything else about it and you didn’t want to press, despite being curious. But none of that seemed to dissuade Leah from letting you flirt with her, or flirting with you back. It was still really confusing, but if it was all she would give you, then you would take it. You would also realize of course that this wasn’t entirely healthy, but there were worse vices to have.

So there you were, sitting crowded on a couch in Leah’s living room with your teammates, laughing at Kim and Beth sing karaoke – or try to sing karaoke anyway. You felt like you could say that since you had already embarrassed yourself twice doing the same thing. You had retired from your karaoke career and squeezed onto the couch next to Viv to enjoy the rest of the evening. It was honestly a really good time, and probably one you preferred to the nights you would all go out somewhere. They were fun in a different way, you supposed, but they did usually always end up just reminding you that you really were an introvert no matter how much you would pretend otherwise.

You had caught Leah’s eye a few times throughout the evening, but hadn’t managed to really get in a conversation with her yet, so you ended up spacing out on the couch trying to think of excuses you could make to get her alone. Everything you ended up thinking of would definitely be more obvious than you wanted, though, so ultimately you just stayed awkwardly on the couch for a couple more hours. Eventually people started filtering out, and as much as you wanted to linger, you knew that not only would that be obvious, but with the way Beth was going, she was going to be here for quite a while longer, or until Viv managed to drag her out.

You decided to say your goodbyes and throw one last quip at Katie over your shoulder, who threw a pillow back at you. You laughed and bent down to pick it up and throw it back, but Leah beat you to the punch.

“Don’t throw shit in my house, McCabe,” she called as she tossed it back across the room. Looking up at you then, she said quietly, “I’ll walk you out,” and you felt her hand on the back of your arm as she led you towards the door.

You became uniquely aware of both the soft pressure of her hand and the hard shape of the gift hidden in your pocket pressing against your stomach. You had somehow managed to ignore it all night, but now with her touching you, even as innocently as she had, it was like your senses had shot through the roof. You felt your nerves just begin to buzz as you reached the door and she pulled her hand away, which almost made you more nervous somehow.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, the consummate host.

You smiled and nodded, and said of course, your hand snaking into your pocket to retrieve the gift you’d stored there. You had apparently hesitated long enough that she knew you had something else to say. She looked at you expectantly and you felt that familiar surge of anxiety twist deep in your gut. Suddenly, all of this felt really, really stupid, and you could feel the burning start across your cheeks. You knew Leah could see it, too, from the look of slow growing concern on her face. You mumbled something incoherent and shook your head, pulling your hand from your pocket – empty – and reaching instead for the door. You opened it too quickly and too forcefully, and Leah was still looking at you like she wanted to ask what was wrong, but wasn’t sure if she should, and having her eyes on you made it all so much worse.

You took one step outside and hesitated – a small step for man and a giant leap for cowardice, it felt. You suddenly hated yourself again. Everything was always so easy when it didn’t mean anything, but the second something mattered all you could ever think about was how badly you would fuck it up. But you’ve made it this far into the evening, it would be stupider to just leave, right?...right?

You spun on your heel, and Leah was leaning against the doorframe staring at you. You hated it when she stared at you, almost as much as you loved it. You swallowed hard, and shoved your hand back in your pocket, this time quickly removing the red-wrapped rectangle before your brain had time to consider otherwise.

“Here,” you said. How polite.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at yourself.

“S-sorry, I—I didn’t know what you would want, so I just…it’s my favorite book. You don’t have to—it’s stupid, you don’t have to read it,” you rambled, and she let you, before she reached out to take it from you and held it against her chest as you watched you.

“Thank you,” was all she said. You sighed again and turned away, but your feet wouldn’t move away and your mind wouldn’t either, so you turned back to her.

“It meant a lot to me, when I was kid, after my parents…and, um, then I read it again as an adult and it’s like…it meant more, I guess.”

“…I don’t think that’s stupid.”

You could only hum in response, eyes dropping again for a long moment as you returned to choking down the embarrassment that had started swelling back up in your throat. Then finally, graciously, a firmness settled in your spine and you met her gaze again. God, you really liked looking at her.

“Happy birthday, Williamson.”

A beautiful grin spread across her face in response.

“There she is,” she said, and you knew exactly what she meant. Fear and Doubt and Bad Days made you someone else, and you knew you would have to explain it to her and the rest of the team at some point. Tonight had probably sped up that process quite a bit, but you didn’t think you can handle it right now, and you knew she wouldn’t make you. But she had smiled at you, and that made you smile back, and you felt Good again.

“Good night.”

“…good night, Y/N.”

Yeah, you thought, maybe it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leah tore her ACL in April. That sucked, for a multitude of reasons – mostly for her, obviously, but it still made you feel sick too. You, and pretty much everyone else remotely invested in English football, hated that she’d miss the World Cup. This was supposed to be England’s year, and it could still be, but it wouldn’t be the same without Leah. It wasn’t really comparable, but you’d broken your collarbone once in college and missed most of the season, and you knew how badly that made you feel, even when the team did well without you. Especially when they did well without you. You knew she’d pretend it was okay because things like this happen, but you also knew she probably wasn’t really okay.

You had called her the evening it happened and left a voicemail: “Hey, it’s Y/N. Um, I know you’ve probably got like a thousand people trying to talk to you, so no worries but I just…I don’t know, I just…I wanted you to know I was thinking about you, and if you needed anything or wanted anything or literally anything, just, um…just let me know. Okay, um, bye.” Super smooth. When you woke up the next morning, you saw that she had texted you back ‘thanks’ at some point during the night. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed that was all she had said, but you knew she would probably have a rough time for a while and that she had plenty of people supporting her, so like with everything else, you would take whatever she’d let you have.

The next few weeks saw you surviving on similar crumbs. You had gone to see her a few times with the team, and you’d text back and forth occasionally, but you really wished you could just go talk to her by yourself. You knew, of course, you didn’t really have a good reason to, though. You were friends, you guessed, and that was probably reason enough, but you wanted to see her and help her and take care of her, and that wasn’t your place however badly you wanted it to be. So, like everything else, you sucked it up and swallowed it down and did everything you could to pretend it didn’t bother you.

And then after her surgery she texted you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

leah: i read your book

leah: it was good

leah: it made me cry

y/n: that wasn’t the intention

leah: no but in a good way

leah: i get why you like it

leah: it reminded me a lot of you

y/n: in a good way?

leah: yeah mostly

y/n: mostly?

leah: yeah

leah: it was sweet and funny

leah: but also sad

y/n: you think i’m sad?

leah: i think you are sometimes

leah: sorry

leah: was that too much?

y/n: no you’re right

y/n: it’s just a whole thing

leah: do you want to talk about it?

y/n: yeah

y/n: but not like this

leah: do you want to come over?

y/n: like right now?

leah: whenever

y/n: okay

y/n: is monday okay?

leah: yeah if that’s what you want

y/n: yeah

y/n: okay

y/n: cool

y/n: i can bring dinner

y/n: i know you can’t cook on your best days

leah: fuck off

leah: but yeah bring dinner

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the first time the two of you had really hung out totally alone, which you thought you had wanted but now that you’re actually here, sitting in Leah’s kitchen, you felt kind of stupid again. You poked around at the food you had brought, taking small slow bites here and there, while the two of you talked. It was, honestly, pretty awkward. You started with small talk, then talked about Leah’s injury and her surgery and her rehab, and the upcoming end of Arsenal’s season, the upcoming World Cup, pretty much everything but what you probably should’ve talked about. Eventually you finished dinner, and Leah offered another glass of wine and suggested you move to the living room. At that your throat dried up faster than the conversation had. You hesitated for a moment, but after about two seconds of watching her hobble around you took to your feet and began clearing the table. She told you not to, but that didn’t stop you, and she didn’t try any harder to stop you either. She lingered for awhile, though, in the kitchen, watching you, before moving over to the living room herself and settling on the couch. You brought the glasses and the wine, and made a point to sit on the opposite side of the sofa.

The silence continued for a few more moments before Leah finally broke it.

“So…did you want to talk?”

“Right, I tell you my trauma, you tell me yours?”

“I don’t think I have any trauma.”

“…are you sure?”

“…no.”

Her reply was quiet and she shifted in her seat as she took a long drink from her glass. You did the same, and let the silence settle again. This time it did so softly, and despite the fact that the conversation was about to turn more serious, you were lacking your earlier awkwardness. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just the time spent, but this for some reason felt more comfortable – the two of you sitting in the dim light of Leah’s living room, speaking with quiet words and loud stares. You basked in the silence for several moments, both of you musing over your own aforementioned traumas-or-perceived-lack-thereof, while you let the little bit of alcohol you’d consumed solidify your spine. Eventually, you drew in a depth breath and began.

“So, the beginning, then?”

And you talked. About your childhood, your parents, and the car accident. About moving to Texas, your grandmother, and how much she tried for you. About how sick and sad and unhappy you had felt all the time. About how playing football was one of the only times you felt okay. About playing in college, and how you got drafted to Seattle, and about how you came to Arsenal, and how much you loved it. About how good and fortunate and lucky you knew you were to be able to play professional football. About how you still felt sick and sad and unhappy all the time. About how it always lingered, no matter what you did or where you were. About how stupid it made you feel, to both know your worth and think you’re worthless. About how no one really knew any of that, because you had gotten really good at lying.

You cried a little bit. So did she. And then she talked. About how she didn’t date teammates, and about how much the last time had hurt. About how she wasn’t the one who had ended it, but she was the one who had made it bad, and about how she’d never admitted as much out loud before. About the constant pressure she was under, and how she tried so hard to use it instead of being crushed but sometimes it felt too heavy to lift. About how much she loved football, and how much she hated the attention she was getting because of it. About how much she really did try to use that attention to refocus on more important things, and how exhausting it could all get. About how devastated she was to miss the World Cup, and how some small part of her was glad for the excuse. About how no one really knew any of that, because she had gotten really good at lying.

And there you sat, two liars being honest with each other. It wasn’t long before the silence wrapped warmly around you again, this time both of you content to linger in it as long as you could – but if you were being honest, you guessed there was something else you should probably add.

“…do you want to know another secret?” you said quietly, unable to keep the corner of your lip from twitching though able to bite back the smile. She huffed a breathless laugh, and gave a small yeah as she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt.

“It’s my birthday.”

Her face fell suddenly, confused, and her brow furrowed – which funnily enough you realized just then was a look that you had sorely missed.

“What? When?”

“Now. Today.”

“Today's your birthday?”

You didn’t bother fighting the small smile that pulled at your face then, and you nodded. Leah twisted around then, quicker than you’d seen her move all evening, and with her good leg kicked you in the calf, twice.

“What the fuck – why the fuck didn’t you say something!?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really – I don’t really celebrate stuff,” you said, pulling your leg away and feigning a few slaps towards her foot. “I just – I wanted to hang out with you.”

She huffed then, crossing her arms across her chest, visibly annoyed that you kept this secret for last. You sighed and pulled your legs further away, then decided to retreat entirely, standing up to gather both your glasses and the wine bottle.

“…is that why you picked today? To come see me?”

Her voice was softer, more akin to your earlier conversation and absent any tone of irritation. You turned to look down at her, and saw that her face was absent irritation as well, the brow-furrow gone and the look in her eyes asking all the questions her mouth wouldn’t.

You straightened up, the quiet confirmation leaving your lips before you even thought the word yes. You hesitated as you heard yourself, then turned and continued into the kitchen. You heard the couch shifting behind you and by the time you had finished cleaning up she had joined you, leaning against the kitchen table.

“You like me,” she said, lilting, and it was your turn to huff then.

“Yeah, I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, but…you like me.”

You rolled your eyes at her slow tone shift, having now morphed pretty fully into teasing. You dropped the kitchen towel you’d been absently folding on to the countertop and took a single step towards her, closing the gap between you save for a few inches.

“Yeah, I do. Should I be more obvious?” you mocked back.

“I don’t think you could be more obvious. Neon sign, maybe.”

“I could get one, I know a guy.”

“You know a neon sign guy?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been in London for like four months and you have a neon sign guy?”

“Maybe I have a lot of neon needs.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea, I don’t even know.”

You were practically talking on top of each other, and you only realized you were also practically standing on top of each other when you felt Leah’s knuckles brush against your stomach. You cut yourself off and looked down at her hand, clutching the front of your shirt. When had she grabbed you? You didn’t know, and looking back up at her face, she didn’t know either, but you were both suddenly very aware of it. Her hand fell free and she took a step back, as did you, turning back to the counter and again absently reaching out to straighten the towel you’d dropped moments before.

“I should go,” you said, turning then towards the door instead of her. “Practice in the morning—”

“—yeah, of course,” she interjected, moving to meet you at the door. You both reached it at about the same time, and both tried to pull it open. You backed off, then she did, and then you did again, this time with a gesture for her to move in. She did, and the door opened, and you stepped outside with an apology.

“Sorry,” you said, finally turning back around and looking at her, chewing on the inside of her own cheek as she leaned against the door.

“No, it’s – um, I had a nice time.”

“Yeah!” you returned, a hair too excitedly. “Uh, yeah, it was…it was really nice to see you. Like away from everybody else. Not that everybody else isn’t cool, too, it’s just…yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you repeated. She laughed softly at that, and so did you, and you both mumbled quiet good nights but neither of you moved. You just stood there on her doorstep with your hands in your pockets, and she stood leaning against the door, biting her own lip. And then suddenly something in the moment bent around you. It didn’t quite break, it just urged you slightly forward, where you pressed your lips against her cheekbone.

When you moved to pull away she turned her head and there were her lips, a mere inch from yours. You both froze, still as stone, daring the other to move. But for however long you stood there, she didn’t, and you didn’t either, and then you turned and walked away. Whatever had its hooks in you couldn’t quite break just yet.

But you could wait, you thought again. You would wait.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #arsenal x reader

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justpoliteconversations · 3 months

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Breakdown [Isekai!Reader + Legend/Marin] (Part 1)

In which Isekai!Reader has a breakdown and then proceeds to break reality.

This fic is purely for my own satisfaction as I've yet to find this particular topic explored and I have a mighty need. I've taken liberties. This is self-indulgent trash.

PART: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

You'd tried not to get close. From the moment you were tossed through the portal (conveniently right at the Chain's feet), you did everything possible to prevent either side from growing unnecessarily attached.

Didn't stop them from strong arming you into joining them though. As an abnormality from the portal, it was in their best interest to keep you close and monitored. Which was fair, so despite your misgivings you went along peacefully.

Though you made sure to let them know where you stood in all this.

You weren't cruel, per say, but you made sure to keep your distance and openly expressed your disinterest in opening up to them. You just wanted to find a way home, and for the most part they did their best to respect that.

Most of them anyway. Wind was an absolute menace. The boy was relentless in trying to wiggle his way into your good graces, always trying to include you in all his little side-quests and jokes.

It would be cute, honestly, if you didn't know he was trying to pump you for information. Clever, using the kid, if you didn't already know who these men were.

(If you're going to try to act friendly with the target Wind, remember to disarm yourself of obvious weaponry before approaching. Silly boy.)

You'd put money on Warriors having orchestrated most of the interactions between you and the youngest. You may not have as advanced senses as them, but you're not blind. It's obvious Wind is reporting to Warriors and Time the nights Wind takes extra pains to interact with you.

(Not that there was much to report. You stuck to your story. Came from a more futuristic world, don't know why you're here, the Heroes of Hyrule are just stories- myths- where your from. You don't know much about them. Yes, you have some secrets. No, they're not harmful to their merry little band. Pot, meet kettle. You'll show them yours if they show you theirs. No? Okay then. Last you checked, they forced you into their group. "Have a good night Time, I appreciate everything you guys do for me. Goodnight Warriors, Legend, Four. Sleep well.")

For being such powerful, experienced heroes, they're not always the brightest. Must be the influence of their Tri-force alinment. It takes a special type of person to do what they do afterall. YOU certainly wouldn't.

But you degress.

Yes, you did everything within your power to keep yourself separate from them without making them your enemies. Slept away from the group, tried (and sometimes failed) to percure your own food. Refused any gifts, money or luxuries offered to you that did not directly involve your continued well-being.

Hell, you even took to cutting grass in your spare time, just so you had something to offer up with you inevitably needed thier assistance. And wasn't that a shock, to find rupees just laying around in the grass. Money literally grow in plants here.

Mind blown.

("No Wind. You found that one, so it's yours. Thank you for the thought though.")

Overall, you thought you'd done an excellent job of it. They- usually- kept to their part of the camp, you stuck to yours (lonely though it was). You rarely talked to them unless strictly necessary or Wind managed to back you into a metaphoric corner. During travel you watched the world go by, acting as another silent pair of eyes.

You thought you'd managed to keep yourself in check.

What a fool you were. To ever think you could keep yourself from loving these kind, selfless, traumatized, courageous goofballs. How shortsighted, to think you would ever be able to stay impartial to their plight, to their pain.

When the divines cast a hook, you took it with both hands and didn't let go.

You're such a damned idiot.

It'd been one hell of a ride to get to the point of no return. Somehow, you'd stumbled though a second portal just as you and the chain had finished exiting the first. Literally, just walked out the first, moved 5 feet away from Legend (your portal crossing partner that time) and promptly stepped into another portal that'd opened right in front of you.

You'd heard Sky's alarmed shout, the beginnings of Wild's bellow, saw Legend try to make a grab at you from the fading entryway. You witnessed Legend flinch back in shock as a wisp of light pulled from his hand and disappeared into the portal. Saw him fall to his knees, seemingly crumbled in pain.

And then you were gone.

You fell onto warm sand, blinded by bright, warm sunlight directly in your eyes. The smell and taste of salt was so strong you can almost feel it coating your insides.

The sea, you quickly realize. Your back hurts from being tossed from the portal, but you're so, so thankful you landed on dry land and not somewhere in the middle of the ocean. A little pain is worth not succumbing to exhaustion and drowning after a desperate, futile struggle.

You laid there for a moment, shocked and grateful and shivering from adrenaline.

You noticed the portal didn't disappear, and none of the chain came charging through to save you either. You watched it for a while, taking deep breaths to calm your heart and waiting for something to happen.

Should you try to go back through? Why is the sound it makes so damn irritating?

"Are you alright?" A lilting voice asks unexpectantly, startling you from where you're sprawled on the sand. "Oh! Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!"

It didn't click at first who this woman was. Long, beautiful red-blond hair, freckled, sun-kissed skin and a little red flower swaying in the sea breeze above her head. A sweet but sad smile, with just a hint of grief in her soulful dark eyes.

You were surprised she didn't notice the portal. You wondered why.

"My name's Marin. What's yours."

It should have clicked.

"It's..."

It didn't.

You broke your own rule, unwittingly though it may have been. Don't interact unnecessarily. Don't get involved. Don't put yourself in a position to get attached. Don't think about it too hard.

Don't. Get. Emotionally. Invested.

"Oh! What a lovely name! I wish we'd have met before-" Her eyes flickered sidewards, and it was then you noticed the biggest egg you'd ever seen on top of a volcanic mountain peak. Just there. A nightmare wrapped up in a pretty bow, waiting for someone to open it.

And he did.

It started to break right before your eyes. Light seeping out through the cracks and pouring down the volcano and into the surrounding land. It was not how you remember this going down, but you knew (without a doubt) what this was and what was happening.

The shock must have been evident on your face because she started talking again, soothingly, though her voice cracked with emotion.

You barely heard her, eyes fixated on the sight of a mountain slowly starting to disintegrate. On the sounds of screams in the distance. Of little shapes moving away from the light, like roaches across the mountainside.

Your eyes flickered to the portal, still there, waiting, emitting the most horrendous noise. A long dark corridor stretching out into a vast nothingness.

The sceams continued. Some cut off suddenly. It was a small island, and the mountain tall. It let their voices carry into the lands below.

Your body was cold. Your skin numb and prickling.

You noticed Marin still talking. Her eyes frightened, though she was trying not to show it.

She was trying to distract herself, you realized. "We should go to the village. Say goodbye. I'll-I'll introduce you to my father. You can be part of our family. No one deserves to- to without having a f-family."

You looked at her. Eyes wide open. Throat tight. Heart beating. Mind numb.

That was where she should have been right now, wasn't it. But she wasn't because she was talking to you. She was too far away to reach it.

(She was never meant to reach it.)

She knew that. You could see it in her eyes.

This world could not be this cruel. It couldn't. It just couldn't.

She looked to you with such sad eyes. Wet with unshed tears. So very aware.

No.

She reached out for your hand.

No.

Her fingers cradled yours, warm and soft.

No.

She tugged you slightly, inching closer. Other arm stretching, stretching. Embracing.

No.

Her skin was warm, like sunshine. She smelt of sweet fruit and clean sweat. Her heart was thundering.

No.

It was warmer still where she hid her face in your shoulder. Wet. Damning.

And then a whisper. The flutter of lips.

A secret, breathed like a confession.

"I'm sorry Link. I wish I could have lived for you."

You bent.

You twisted.

You ached.

"Marin. If you had the chance to survive this, no matter how slim, would you take it. Even if it meant giving up everything? Even if it meant having to live with the pain."

She stared at you, bewildered. And then-

Clarity.

"You're like Link. Aren't you?"

"Yes."

Her expression shifted. Beneath the sheen of tears, a fire ignited in her dark eyes. Hope, so strong it scorched the world.

It burned you too. That unyeilding will to survive.

"Take me to him." Her eyes softened, but were no less determined for it. Instead, her resolve set like obsidian. "So we may grief the loss of our family together."

Hook, set. Bait, taken.

Now.

Pull.

---

It was agony. From the moment you grabbed Marin's hand and attempted to enter the portal, it felt as though your entire bloodstream was on fire. Like being unmade and reforged all at once, originating from where your hand connected with hers.

You wanted to pull away, but you didn't. She wouldn't have let you either way. Her grip was an iron vice. Deceptively strong.

She didn't even flinch despite the sweat you could see gathering on her brow, the way her jaw clenched. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

You couldn't imagine what she must be experiencing, if the feeling of her hand alone was enough to arrest your breathing.

You took another step forward. She matched it. It was like walking through wet sand, sticky and unyielding, but not impossible.

You moved one step at a time, slow and steady. Open mouthed panting, sweat running down your faces and soaking your hair, plastering it to your scalps. Your skin was flushed from exertion and you guys hadn't moved more than a few paces.

You weren't even out of sight of the entryway when the light was suddenly ripped away from behind. Leaving nothing but a yawning void.

Marin stumbled, as though her strings had been cut, and you followed. Your entire body was molten lava, bones scorched to nothing.

Someone was screaming. Or maybe you both were. You couldn't tell. Marin was gripping your hand with all her might and you gripped right back. The point of contact felt melted into her skin, like you were a part of her.

Or she was part of you.

Eventually, you felt her start to rise, pulling you with her. You couldn't see, but you knew she still had that fire searing in her eyes. No amount of tear stains could hide her will to live.

She took a step forward, and you followed her into the dark. One, two, three, four....

Time lost it's meaning. You'd long since lost count of the steps you two stumbled through together.

It was getting harder. Each step forward seemed to add another weight to your shoulders. It hurt to breath, it hurt to blink. You stopped opening your eyes a while ago. Your skin felt blistered and cracked.

You and Marin had tried talking, but it wore on her too heavily. She was gasping for air even more desperately than you were, breaths raw and ragged.

More time passed. Each step got harder. You were stumbling more than you were walking.

You were sure your nose was bleeding. You could taste the iron in your mouth, where liquid dripped over your upper lip. You couldn't feel your face.

Then Marin threw up. Fell to her knees and just kept puking and puking, struggling for precious air, whole body convulsing. You reach down blindly with your other hand to try to get her hair out of the way.

You overshot and your hand ended up in the spray (it was perfectly smooth like water, not at all natural). It felt like liquid metal across your skin, ripping a scream from your throat.

The smell of burning flesh hit your senses as you curled around your arm, the limb pulsing under you.

You could feel tension building in your body, heavy and foreboding.

Marin was crying. She was shaking. She retched again.

She clutched your hand like a lifeline, desperation corded into every muscle in her fingers. You squeezed back with everything you had, reassurance you were still there in the total darkness.

The tension snapped.

Then her hand went limp, only your grip keeping her from fully slumping to the ground. Dead weight.

"Marin?" You rasped, voice shaking with pain and shock. "Marin?"

She didn't respond. She didn't move. Her limp body slumped against your side, like a branding rod searing through your clothes.

Your heart raced in panic and it gave you the strength needed to pull your still burning arm from beneath you and feel for her pulse.

You found it. Faint. So faint it was a mere whisper, but there.

Ahead of you, an endless void. Behind you, the gapping maw of nonexistence. Nothing in all directions but the limp body leaned against your leg. The sound of the portal just kept growing louder, like metal scraping in your ear.

Your body was so heavy. Your skin seemingly peeled back and exposed, burning against the agony of existence.

You broke.

You shattered.

You felt.

"It doesn't get to be this way." You panted, eyes open, seeing nothing and stinging like hornets. "No. You don't get to do that."

Emotion rose like a tidalwave within you, boiling under the surface of your skin. You turned your eyes up, casting your gaze into the void there.

"You don't get to do that to them. You don't get to keep hurting them like this. They're not toys. They're real."

You swallowed thickly.

"They're real."

The emotion boiled over. The dam broke. Everything else was lost to the Rage.

"YOU!" You screamed, voice shrill, hot liquid falling from your lips as something stretched and burst. "Don't! Get! To! Keep! Hurting! Them! You don't get to do that! They're people! They're real people with real feelings and pain, Goddamnit!"

You were lost to that rage. The feeling that had haunted your every waking moment since the moment you fell through that first portal. Since first you realized where you were.

From the moment you realized who they were and what that meant.

"You don't get to take anything else from them! You hear me! Not a single. Damned. Thing. More!" You spat. "I will not allow it! I! Reject! It!"

You hauled Marin forward inch by agonizing inch with strength you should not have, using spite that ran so deep it tore at peices of your soul.

You weren't even looking forward anymore (what need have you to know when the torment ends, when you're never going to stop. not until death takes you). Instead, you'd braced your feet firmly and started hauling yourself backwards, back arched so far you were nearly sitting.

"I will not let you keep hurting them for your entertainment!" You screeched, not caring how it hurt. Not caring how spit and snot and blood ran down your chin. How sweat soaked straight through your clothes, stinging against the aching rawness of your skin.

You pulled, both hands latched onto Marin's one. The universe pulled back, trying to take this precious being from your grasp. Your progress was halted.

You snapped.

"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU NITENDO. FUCK YOU GAME PEOPLE. FUCK YOU PLAYERS! AND FUCK ME TOO! FUCK ME FOR EVERYTHING I EVER DID TO HURT YOU! FUCK EVERYONE WHO EVER HURT YOU FOR FUN!"

You screamed then, rasping, tearing and wordless. Just kept screaming and pulling against the universe. Against the pain. Against the unfairness of it all.

The universe pulled again and you snarled like a beast, grip so tight on Marin's wrist you felt something cracking. She felt like Hellfire under your hands.

It only enraged you more.

"You don't get to have her! You don't get to hurt him anymore! You don't get to hurt any of them! They're mine now! You! Don't! Have! The! Right! THEY'RE MINE!"

A choked rasp, iron flooding your throat as the nosebleed gets worse.

"Marin is mine! Legend is mine! Hyrule is mine! Wind is mine! Warriors, Sky, Four are mine! Time and Twilight are mine! Wild is mine!"

Another step back, an inch gained.

Again, and again, and again.

"I'm going to take back everything you stole from them!" You howl into the void, uncaring of how absolutely broken your voice had become. "The moment you let your guard down, I'm taking everything! You. HEAR! ME!"

"I'M TAKING EVERY-"

The universe let go and you fell.

...and Marin fell with you.

Suddenly, there was gentle light filtered through leaves, cool spring air and the faint call of birdsong. No endless darkness or scorching magma in your veins or the infernal screech of portal magic in your ear. Just bliss.

And then your body reminded you that it was not fine.

Your muscles seized, tightening in painful reminder of the strain you had put them through. Your skin stung like sandpaper burn from head to toe, your lungs ached so fiercely it drew tears to your eyes.

Eyes tightly closed and teeth gritted, you curled around the limp body sprawled at your side, limbs intermingled as your body spasmed through the pain.

Then, there were hands on you and you cried out in agony.

Someone shushed you, soundly oddly choked and quiet as another pair of hands gently tried to move you. Then several.

You refused. Arms tightening around the precious being trapped in your embrace. You fought with what little strength you had left, sobbing as the hands managed to pry you loose.

You wailed in dispair.

Someone sobbed with you.

You finally succumbed to your body's desperate demands to escape the pain. You drifted away to the feeling of gentle arms cradling you close, of soft whispers in your hair.

Finally, peace found you. If only for a time.

---

Perhaps there will be a part two. Maybe even venture into yandere territory. Who knows.

I must return to the shadows once more to recharge.

#Linked Universe #Legend x Marin #Legend needs a hug #Let Legend be Happy #Linked Universe x Reader

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kimberleyjean · 5 months

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Gabriel's ineffable statue

Ooh time for my first ever post that isn't a reblog - exciting!

So, a while ago now, I came across a post about Gabriel's statue which pointed out what seemed to be a blatantly obvious continuity error. For the life of me, I CANNOT find that post again and so I am going to attempt to recreate it here because I just noticed something else interesting related to Gabriel's statue. If you are the original person who found this, please let me know and I'll credit you!

Edit: I found the original on reddit! https://www.reddit.com/r/goodomens/comments/17tjfdc/spot_the_difference_statue_of_gabriel_s2e6/ Right, so, have you ever looked very closely at the scenes of Gabriel and Beelzebub in the graveyard during Gabriel's flashback? No? Well, here are some clips of these scenes I want you to take a close look at, taken in order they're shown:

Why is the cross missing??? In the distance shot, there is no cross. In the closer shot, there is. Then we switch back to the distance shot and it's gone again. Just for clarity's sake, when we see the Gabriel statue in any other scene, yes the cross is present.

I know there have been many ineffable continuities mentioned by other posters (such as clocks, chairs, rugs, road markings, Crowley's glasses, Maggie's store signage etc). It's still up for debate about how many of these actually mean anything, or if they are genuine continuity errors. However, I find it VERY hard to believe this is a continuity issue... in any other show I could believe that, sure. But the Good Omens team is detail-focused and this is a huge missing cross on a statue that was specifically built for the show. Why would you have the whole scene set up in the graveyard, but without the cross ready, and then not bother to fix it in post? So the above is what I read in someone else's blog post and I'm really sorry that I can't recall where to find that. However, here's what I want to add. The Gabriel statue appears at the end of the opening credits and guess what... :

The cross is missing the top half! What does any of this mean? Who knows? Not me, that's for sure. Is it something to do with S3? Is it some comment on a religious theme? Are Gabriel's memories faulty when they're restored? Several others have pointed out that there are some suspicious things shown in the memory restoration sequence. Why is Gabriel bearing a cross in the first place? If you have any ideas let me know, I'd be interested to hear them!

Regardless of the statue, you might be wondering what is this part of the opening credits all about? The parade of characters is being led by Crowley and Aziraphale up this rickety mountain made of what seems to be a trash heap with a whole bunch of religious iconography scattered through it and a Lady Libertas (aka what the Statue of Liberty is based on) appearing opposite the Gabriel statue here. I always wondered what this whole sequence might be about, but I've seen very little written about it. If you're interested, here's this post from @lady-of-the-puddle. There is a lot of interesting imagery in the opening sequence, that's for sure!

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens theory #good omens clues #good omens 2 #gabriel #gabriel statue #opening sequence #opening credits

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adventuringblind · 7 months

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Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Six

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: The media goes crazy over the trio

Warnings: some sexual innuendo

Notes: considering the next chapter to continuation of their steamy encounter at the end. What do y'all think? 🤔

Masterlist

The build-up to the next race was terrible. The media had been swarming her at every opportunity. Even taking liberties to follow her places.

Her PR team had been keeping things as controlled as they could, but the fans are a force to be reckond with.

They left for Hungary early. She had requested they do so. She wanted time to settle down before she had to run around through people. A request which both boys made happen.

Now, she lay wrapped between them in their arms. It's a peaceful place to be. If she never had to leave, then she'd gladly stay here forever.

"Do you think the fans will still like me?" She whispers into Oscar's chest.

"My answer is still the same. Yes, they will still like you."

"If they start saying shit then I'll personally see that it stops." Adds Max. His words vibrate against her back in a soothing way. "The teams know your story. They saw what happened. You have no obligation to share that information if you don't want to."

The fans seem to be divided. Some say she has the money to make it look like she's the victim. Others say it's obvious she's the victim. Some fans are even saying that their relationship is just a massive cover.

Thankfully, her grid friends had come to the rescue. They all posted about her; about them. All of them writing things so kind it made her cry.

Media day came around far too soon. The boys make sure to walk her all the way to AlphaTauri, as is routine.

This time, they are joined by Lando, then they pick up Charles and George, and at some point Carlos and Alex.

The group waves her off to the safety of her garage. Watching her meet up with Yuki at the door.

"If any of the vultures ask about it, I will be setting the media pen on fire." Max claims through gritted teeth.

She thought she would be in the safe with the Thursday driver press conference. She was wrong to assume anything. Apparently, drama makes them bring her back.

It gets a little better as she sees that the other two didn't escape it either. They make space in between them for her to sit down. Charles and Pierre are on the far end of the couch chatting before things get started.

All three of them lean in for a hushed conversation.

"Plans for answering unwanted questions?" She asks.

"Sarcasm. Unless you want to answer differently." States Max and Oscar shakes his head in agreement.

They make it through the first part without any odd questions. It's the open floor where things start to get tricky.

"Will Buxton, Skay Sports: question for Max, Oscar, and Y/N." She tries to suppress a groan. Of course it would be him. The one who loves to make Max out to be a villain and her to be a slut. "How does it feel to be out to the world? Could you give us any insights into your relationship and if there is any truth to the rumors?"

Cue an angry Max and stone cold Oscar. She almost wants to laugh at Will and his poor choices.

Max goes first without anyone having to ask. "I personally feel great. It wasn't how we wanted it to happen, but I'm glad that I can hold their hands in public now."

Oscar goes next. Probably to give her time to think. "So me and Y/N have been dating since F2, and Max joined us early this year."

A shock rolls through the crowd. There's one rumor taken care of at least. Now, she can choose to do the rest nicely or sarcastically. She chooses both.

"There are a few rumors going around right now. The one about us being fake is a lie. We've been together for a while now." She looks between her two counterparts for reassurance. They give her warm smiles and encourage her to move forward with whatever she wants to say.

There is definitely a shake in her voice this time as she continues. "The rumor about me being the aggressor is also a lie. I don't need to prove anything to anyone. I've been through enough already and am not keen on reliving it. Oscar and Max can attest to the fact that I will make myself sick trying to talk about it. I order to not cause a scene, I will no longer be speaking about the matter."

She comes out of the press conference and immediately falls onto the ground, clutching her stomach. She's grateful her PR manager is there waiting for her. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't be able to keep going.

Oscar and Max help her up, watch her drink some water, and then return to their own garages.

"Do you want to try and get media over with now? Or do you want to wait a bit?"

She can't help but admire the level headedness of the kind woman beside her as she will be losing her patience with the questions she's been trying so hard to push away.

Max wants to scream. Maybe even punch something. Or preferably, someone.

He storms his way through the media pen. Nobody even stops him as he does. His PR manager told him to him to go find Oscar as the Aussie has apparently been getting the brunt of the inappropriate questions since their female counterpart had been escorted away for a break.

The trio and their PR managers have a new group chat for this very reason. The drama of their coming out has made all six need to stay in communication.

So, when he got word, he was released to go help his partner escape the awkwardness of the situation. Because nobody is going to mess with Mad Max and make his partners uncomfortable.

He finds Oscar in the middle of answering a question. A microphone to his mouth and eyes flickering everywhere searching for an answer he doesn't have.

Without any hesitation, Max stands right next to his boyfriend and interjects himself into the conversation.

"Speak of the devil, here is Max right now!" says the interviewer enthusiastically. "I was just asking about the nature of your relationship since you are a world champion and dating not one, but two rookies."

Oh, the nerve. Max has half a mind to ask the interviewer who's dick he had to suck to get his job and see how he likes it. "Not sure what you're implying, Mate?" Max tilts his head in feigned confusion. He can just barely see the two PR managers almost giggling out of the corner of his eye. The Dutch has a way of making the media regrat they ever asked such things.

"Just wondering how things between the three of you work. You know- If you're helping them in their career at all."

He feels about ten seconds away from jamming the microphone into the reporter's skull. But he refrains since his PR manager is even letting him do this.

"I honestly don't think they need any help. If you're implying that they are using me, I'm using them, or this is anything other than our love and respect for one another, then I will kindly ask you to fuck off." Max grabs Oscar's hand and the Aussie tries to give a PR worthy smile. The two walk over to their managers and both are shaking their heads at him.

All three of them collapse in a heap on the bed. Media day was absolutely exhausting. The trio had been dragged through a PR nightmare on loop.

"If I never talk to a reporter again, it'll be too soon." Max grumbles. The other two hum I'm agreement.

It took a minute for the two males to make out the small whisper of 'I'm sorry.' The female had been guilty about everything that happened. She has started to constantly apologize for things out of her control.

"I think I know the perfect way to relax and pull your head away schat."

Oscar runs his fingers along her spine. His eyebrows quirk up at Max in curiosity.

A bath.

Max's plan is a bath.

She's grateful that the Dutch has a bath bigger than the other two. It's not massive in the way of a hot tub. Yet it's perfect for the three of them.

The water is warm on her skin. Her back rests against Oscar's chest. Max is facing them to make the space more comfortable, but she wishes he were right next to them so she could lean on him too.

Even after everything, they are still here. Something about that thought makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Have you heard from your family this weekend, Osc?" She asks. The Aussie had been summoned home by his mother and demanded he bring his two partners along with him.

"Pretty sure my family loves you two more than me." He laughs. "What about you, Maxy?"

Max lets out a heavy sigh and sinks further into the water. "Dad has been texting me occasionally, but I've been ignoring him. Mom and Victoria want to meet you both in person soon." A small smile tugs at Max's lips. The Dutch loves his sister and his niece and nephew. "And you Schatz?"

She grimaces at the thought. "A few texts here and there."

"About?"

"How I should come home and pray away my sins." She rolls her eyes. "They think you two should do the same. That all of us need to stop whoring around."

Oscar smirks into her neck. "The only thing I intend on worshipping is you."

She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks at the implications.

Max sits up again and leans closer to her. "Or maybe you want to be on your knees praying to a different alter."

And there is is. Every working brain cell turned into mush. She whines at the thought. Almost shocking herself at the noise.

It's going to be a long night.

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

Text

Promises

Leon Kennedy x female reader Fluffy nonsense, taken some liberties with timeline of RE2R.

“There.” You hop off the desk and turn back round to admire your handiwork, hands on your hips and tilting your head a little at the banner now hanging from the ceiling tiles, surrounded by streamers. “Hey – does that look squint to you?” It had looked level when you were stood up there, but now you’re back on the ground the banner proudly displaying Welcome Leon looked a little off.

“Does it matter?” Edward steps behind you, files in hand after rummaging through the filing cabinet. “He’s not going to take a spirit level to it.”

“No, but…” You sigh, tilting your head in the other direction to see if that made a difference.

“You were off the clock 40 minutes ago, rookie, and I ain’t paying overtime.” Branagh’s voice booms from his office door and you turn, shrugging your shoulders in acknowledgement. He’s got his jacket over his arm, briefcase in hand, looking to be heading home for the evening.

“Of course, Lieutenant. I just wanted to get this up before I left for the day. He still starts the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Mm-hm. I don’t know why Chief Irons is insisting on this morale-boosting bullshit.”

You hold your tongue – calling it bullshit is exactly why the captain is insisting on it, and when Branagh had tasked you to do something to make the new recruit – one Leon S Kennedy – feel welcome upon joining the force, you’d thought the idea was quite sweet. It had been daunting enough for you almost six months earlier, joining a police station where everyone else was a few years your senior and friends for a good while. It had been difficult gaining their respect, proving your worth but, hey, you had it now… more or less.

Branagh sighs – you must’ve been pouting. “It’s not squint, rookie.” He walks over, looking at the banner and streamers with a stoic expression. “As long as you haven’t wasted taxpayers’ money with that and that weird lock puzzle you’ve set up, then I shouldn’t complain.”

“No, sir. I got the locks from storage and the banner and streamers are all on me. And we could re-use it, if you switch some letters around…”

He scoffs, taking in the sign again. “To what?”

“Er…” You look at the letters. “O clown melee.”

Branagh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Go home.” He turns to your fellow officer, then. “Edward, I expect that report on my desk first thing tomorrow.”

“You got it, Lieutenant.” Branagh nods as he leaves the room. “Why are you so excited about the new guy anyway, rookie?” Edward is at his desk now, flipping through the pile of arrest records.

“Isn’t it obvious, Edward?” You grin, picking up your rucksack from beneath your desk.

“Ah, you want a boyfriend, I get it.”

“Ugh.” You scoff. “No, it means I won’t be the rookie anymore.”

Edward cocks his eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line is casual, upbeat. It’s nice to hear after the last 24 hours has been anything but. It matches the photo in the file you have, one finger still besides his contact number. Blonde hair, cute face. Too sweet to come here now.

“Leon Kennedy?” You try and steady your voice, sitting at the desk in Branagh’s office. You can see some streamers dangling from the ceiling and you hope the broadcast that’s been playing for the last few hours can’t be picked up on the line.

“Speaking. Who’s this?”

“I’m with the Raccoon Police Department.” There’s blood on your forearm, but you’re not sure if it’s yours. “I know you were meant to start tomorrow, but there’s been a… delay with the paperwork. Our end, not yours. We’ll be in touch with a new date.”

“Oh. That’s…” He sounds disappointed, but if you told him the real reason he wouldn’t believe it. You don’t believe it. “Er, that’s okay. Thanks for letting me know. You’ll definitely been in touch?”

There’s a bang at the window. A man, blood dripping down from his mouth, a gouge out of his own neck snarls at you through the pane of glass.

“We will.”

“All rig-” There’s no dial tone, no beep of disconnection – just silence. They’ve cut the phonelines.

Seven days of hell. This wasn’t covered at the academy – whatever this is. They said it was a radiation leak at first – that was what was making people act so feral. You’d seen the worst of humanity over the days and no-one seemed to be coming to help anymore. The army had been drafted in, at first evacuating bus-loads of civilians out before that was deemed too risky. They then tried to quarantine everyone, everything in but nothing is working – blockades go up, they come down, more and more people die, your colleagues die.

Or do they, really? Scott, Ford and Carlsen were definitely upright, shuffling towards you the third or fourth time you resorted to shooting them in the head.

The police station was designated a shelter, a sanctuary. It’s a sturdy building, that’s for sure – solid walls of a former art museum – but it’s not enough to stop whatever has happened to the people you tried so hard to protect.

You don’t know where Phillips, Edward or Branagh are, or if they are still even them. It’s impossible to know how long you’ve been down in the cells now – power’s out, it’s dark all of the time. The only way you know that time has passed at all is by the hunger pangs in your stomach.

You’re just glad that they’re not for human flesh.

Yet.

You’d found Irons down here. His last orders were for everyone to stay in the station itself, but Branagh had sent you down, reluctantly, in the hopes of finding any sort of supplies that hadn’t already been picked apart. Everyone assumed the chief was dead - hadn’t been seen in days. As you’d headed down to the cells, you’d heard raised voices, arguing. You couldn’t work out what they were saying at first, concentrating too much on the fact that they were real voices, saying real words and not guttural growls.

Chief Irons holding a gun in a man’s face, forcing him into in a cell and slamming the door shut is not what you’re expecting to see.

“Don’t just stand there,” the new prisoner called out to you, “help me! The guy’s a madman. He’s been selling us all out to Umbrella this whole time. He’s responsible for this all!”

Chief Irons turns to you, pupils blown out, looking fed up, gun still held aloft but now in your direction.

“What are you doing down here? You were told to all stay up in the station.”

“Sorry, Chief. We thought… Branagh told me to come down. What’s going on?”

“Er, hello! Did you hear me?” The man is holding the bars of the cell. “He caused this.”

You ignore your gut in the presence of authority, “Is it wise, sir, to leave him in there? He’ll be a sitting duck.”

“He’s not the only one.” And you see his trigger finger flex.

You run then, an attempt at a sprint from the adrenaline, but there’s a hot, searing pain in your thigh. You’re fast, but he’s faster, an arm wrapped around your windpipe, cutting off the oxygen. You stomp on his foot, jerk your head back, anything to try and make him release his grip but the world is swimming before you.

Perhaps this is the most peaceful death you could wish for.

There is a bitter feeling when you wake up, locked in a cell further down the corridor from where you’d been, without your gun, thigh tacky with blood and painful to move. There is a crude bandage wrapped around it, preventing blood loss but it feels more a death sentence than a blessing, surrounded by echoing snarls and rats that need kicking away.

You wake up to repetitive, methodical gunshots. Someone is going cell by cell, peering in and eliminating those inside.

Maybe the army is back, maybe they’re cleaning up the mess.

You’d fallen asleep sat in the corner on the cot, back leaned up against the wall. The rats didn’t seem to climb up here as much at least – you’d feel them before they managed to get a nibble.

The footsteps are getting closer and closer before a flashlight is shone around your cell, investigating every nook and cranny before it lands on your face, causing you to squint. You hold up your hands.

“I’m not one of them.” You plead, your voice raspy from sleep. You desperately want to cough but worry that’ll make too much of a them sound.

“Are you hurt?” The voice sounds fleetingly familiar. You blink in the light before it dips a little and you can see who’s wielding it.

Although his hair is mussed, a little bloody, you recognize the sweet face from the file on Branagh’s desk all those days ago and a certain something clipped on the end of his gun.

“You got your welcome present.” “Huh?”

“You’re Leon, right?” He nods. You get to your feet, cautiously, using the last of your energy to limp across to the bars, curling your fingers around them to steady yourself. You offer your name - as if it would mean anything to him. “I put that in your desk. Did you solve the lock or did you just smash your way through?”

“No, no, I solved ‘em.” He bites his tongue, doesn’t tell you that when he solved them was moments after he had to shoot that certain colleague in the head. “Did you put that all together?”

You smile, “And the banner – if it’s still up.”

“No, it is.” He wraps his hand on top of yours, maybe as desperate for human contact as you’d been. “Thank you – I wish I could’ve seen it on a day as it should’ve been seen.”

“Me too. But… why are you here? I told you to stay away.”

“That was you as well?” His eyes widen – beautiful blue things. If Edward could see you the smitten look on your face now, he’d be intolerable. He’d caught you making eyes over guys being booked in the past, after all.

“I wish you’d listened.”

“You said you’d be in touch.” He teases, before settling into something more serious. “I’m glad I didn’t cos it looks like you’re in quite the predicament. Why are you in there?”

“Long story. Can you get me out? There should be an override switch for all the cells – runs on a generator. Not sure if things have been messing with it.”

“I’ll work something out.” He smiles, squeezing your hand before he lets go. “Just… sit tight. I’ll be back – I promise.”

And, as you stagger back to the cot, head falling back against the wall, you believe him.

Time is fuzzy now, or maybe you’re just weak from hunger, weak from pain. Water from the cell sink has been the only thing that’s kept you going. But now there’s an alarm sounding and mechanical locks clunking and so much groaning.

Your name is being called, shoulders shaken but you can’t focus. You’re heaved up from the cot, arms wrapped around your waist and over someone’s shoulder. A hand squeezes your backside before there’s an apology and it shifts back to your waist. There’s gunshots, hissing, snarling, screaming, swearing all around you but all you can do is hang limply, catching glimpses of limbs and blood smears on the floor before it all goes black again.

“She’s dead weight.” A new voice – female – echoes around your head, though you’re in a different position now – cradled in someone’s arms, face pressed against the weirdly familiar feeling of a bulletproof vest.

“Ada.” A warning tone.

“What? You can’t carry her and shoot.”

“It’s fine.”

“Not where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” You mumble, forcing your eyes open and up to see that picture perfect smile once more.

“Hey. How you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better.”

“I’m sure. This is Ada – she’s with the FBI.” A woman in sunglasses and a white coat shoots you a disinterested look. “We’re going to Umbrella’s lab. This whole thing’s a virus – we need to stop…” He smiles, noting your bemused expression. “I’ll explain later. You just rest, okay? We’ll find you somewhere safe whilst we deal with this.”

“Safe?” You want to laugh. “Good luck.”

Leon finds something though – an armored military truck the south side of town. No windows, a box of rations still intact.

“Okay, you stay set up in here.” He’s crouched in front of you, Ada hanging back at the door. “I promise I’ll be back for you afterwards.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He squeezes your hand. “I’m gonna keep it – just you see.” Leon gets to his feet and Ada steps aside as he exits, before peering at you over her shades.

“Here.” She withdraws a gun from within her coat, slides it over the metal flooring of the truck. “Just in case.”

Leon puts on a smile behind her, hand aloft in a wave and Ada slams the door shut.

You don’t need to check the barrel to know there’s only one bullet in there.

More time passes through a combination of consciousness and unconsciousness. Opening up packets of dry, dusty crackers that tasted euphoric on an empty stomach and bottled water, gun still within reach and blissful silence as the thick metal walls obscured all sound from outside.

The door opens, morning light flooding behind, illuminating Leon as an angelic figure – his shoulder now wrapped in a bloodied bandage. A woman sporting a ponytail behind him, a little girl too, but no Ada.

“You came back.” You breathe out as he crouches in front of you, taking your hand.

“I promised, didn’t I? This is Claire and Sherry, and we’re all getting out of here.”

You kiss him, clumsily, head still woozy, but his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head, holding you steady before someone clears their throat behind.

“Ahem, Leon…” Claire jerks her head towards Sherry, the girl staring wide-eyed.

“Sorry.” He’s flustered – adorably so – but he drops his hand from your head and helps you to your feet, keeping you close to his uninjured side. He presses his lips to the side of your temple as Claire and Sherry turn, mumbling into your ear.

“And I promise to come back for your kiss too.”

You wake with a start, sitting up in the bed, trying to catch your breath. You were back in the police station, hands grabbing at you from boarded up windows, guttural wet sounds from things no longer human.

There’s movement besides you, followed by a click, a soft, yellow light illuminating the room as a warm hand rubs your back.

“You with me, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously. He knows how it feels to wake from a nightmare, how disorientating it can be.

You reach for his hand, lacing his fingers between your own, grounding yourself. You're in bed, you're home, you're safe, you're with him. “You came back.”

“Always will.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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beskarandblasters · 5 months

Text

Me and My Husband

Chapter Three: Nobody Fucks Like Me

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Din finds himself unable to stop thinking about you so he tells his riduur he's leaving for another bounty, but instead he goes to Naboo to look for you.

Word count: 4.1k

Chapter warnings: Reader does not know Din's name yet, Din has mediocre sex with his riduur, lying, paranoia, pet names, Mandalorian words/phrases (translations included after), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Din

The guilt is eating Din alive. Every time he looks at his riduur’s helmet, let alone her face, he’s consumed with a nauseous feeling, the guilt threatening to force its way out of his throat and speak itself into existence. He hasn’t told a soul about you. He can’t. This secret is too precious; too delicate. He’s aching to see you, but he’s also scared of how hard he’s beginning to fall for you. Sure he’s had flings here and there. But none of those even came close to the feelings he has for you.

It’s been nine rotations since he last saw you, not counting the time it took him to get to Mandalore from Naboo with a quick pit stop to Nevarro. He had to stop at the market and pick up some supplies. Gotta make his fake cover story of going after a bounty believable somehow.

In his time away from you the Mandalorians have developed a way of sending and receiving transmissions that can penetrate the barrier of Mandalore’s atmosphere. Even though it’s a wonderful feat and extremely impressive on behalf of the Mandalorians, it’s just another obstacle Din has to deal with if he’s going to keep seeing you. Because now instead of just not expecting transmissions from May at all, he’ll receive them and it’ll be blatantly obvious he’s ignoring her.

His need to see you outweighs his guilt. Nine rotations (and then some) is too long to be away from you. He wonders if you think about him in his absence. You have to, right? What if you didn’t think he was good enough? What if he was just a fling for you? He needs to know if you feel the same way. And he has to see you again.

But there’s also another problem he’s dealing with… May wants to have sex. And he’s been pushing it off for a while. They’ve been married for well over thirty rotations now. And typically Mandalorians have sex on their wedding night after seeing their riduur’s face for the first time. But May knew that Din was a little hesitant and rightfully so. The marriage was a tad rushed, a product of the peer pressure and pressure Din put on himself. Except now his excuses are running out and she’s getting antsy.

“Din?” she asks softly while sitting at the kitchen table.

He doesn’t have to ask what, he already knows what this is about. They just got done eating dinner, their helmets set on the edge of the table perched side by side. Grogu’s just about ready to fall asleep, nodding off while he sits in May’s lap.

“Do you think tonight could be the night?”

He wants to let out a deep sigh but he knows that will just hurt her feelings. He’s not in love with her but he also doesn’t want any harm to come her way.

“Yes, May,” he responds, words coming out soft and hesitant, as if you’re somewhere around him in earshot, listening to his promise to fuck another woman.

“Really?” she asks, eyes lighting up.

Her hand is resting on the table. He reaches out and pats it lightly, responding with, “Mhm. Let’s get him down for bed first.”

She gets up from her seat, Grogu scooped up into her arms and resting against her chest. He’s fast asleep now. Putting him down for bed will take no time at all. Meaning less time to waste before… the act. Maker, he’s messed up. What kind of man actively avoids sex with his new riduur?

They’re in their bedroom now, meticulously removing their armor and stripping down to their flight suits. The thing is… he’s not nervous about what she’s going to think of his naked form or his cock. He only cares what you think of him. But he also knows that May is nervous about what he thinks of her. And if he responds with a less-than-enthusiastic reaction it’ll eat away at her confidence; her self-image. She is pledging herself to him in the most raw, unfiltered, and honest way she can. The least he can do is try to act like she’s doing it for him. And deep down he’s hoping that having sex with May will unlock the spark within him; that he’ll become so in love and so devoted to her that he’ll forget all about you. The hopeful part of him wants to believe this to be true but the cynical part of him knows that nothing will compare to you. And he hasn’t even seen all of you yet or received everything you have to offer him.

She starts taking off her flight suit before Din does. He realizes he should follow suit and begins taking his off. And before he knows it they’re standing in front of each other completely naked and open to the other person. Her eyes scan his form, taking in every scar, freckle, and line. He does the same for her not because he wants to, but because he’s just following her lead.

“You’re beautiful, Din,” she says, stepping closer. Her eyes move down to his left bicep where he has a simple tattoo, a black ring encircling his arm, about the width of his pointer finger and middle finger together.

“You, too, May,” he gulps.

“When did you get this? she asks, running her thumb over the inked skin. Her touch triggers goosebumps across his flesh, and not in a good way.

“A long time ago," he replies, offering her nothing more.

“Are you nervous?” she asks.

“A little,” he says, avoiding her eyes.

“Don’t be,” she says, cupping his face with her hand, “This is what we’re supposed to do.”

“I know,” he responds, closing his eyes.

All he can do is pray to the Maker that this doesn’t last long.

She’s shorter than him so she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. At first, it’s chaste and quick but he puts more effort in and starts to kiss her back. His hands are at his sides and she has to pull back and whisper “Hold me.”

And he hesitantly does, moving his hands ever so slowly towards her back. He knows she’s expecting him to take the lead so he pushes against her lightly, directing her towards the bed. She falls back onto the bed, lying down and spreading her legs apart for him. He kneels between her thighs, bringing his fingers to his mouth and moistening them. He could eat her out right now but he wants your cunt to be the one he tastes first, not hers. He slides one finger inside, trying his hardest to not rush through fingering her.

Her eyes close and her breathing starts to pick up. “More,” she softly moans.

He slides another finger in, curling it against her walls but also while zoning out. He mindlessly fingers her until she cums. He’s glad it’s over but he also knows that she’s going to ask to do something for him; something he’s just not in the mood for.

He pulls his fingers out of her and they’re soaked. But he just finds himself thinking about his exact situation with you. He wipes his fingers on his thigh while her eyes are still closed so she can’t see what he did.

“Did you want me to… you know… do anything for you?” she asks, sitting a little and resting on her elbows.

“No, I’m okay,” he says, shaking his head.

He spits in his hand and strokes his cock, willing it to be completely hard already. Maker, why is this so hard for him? May’s not a bad-looking woman and she’s his riduur. Even if you weren’t part of the equation he would still be having a hard time doing this. But when he considers you, he finds himself doing mental gymnastics to get him in the right mindset for this. His cock cooperates with him though and he’s hard (enough) finally.

He leans forward and aligns himself with her entrance, thrusting into her slowly. She gasps at the sensation of being filled by him. They’re face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. She’s looking at him with all of the love and admiration in the entire galaxy, gazing into the eyes of her future. While he has to force himself to keep his eyes open and not imagine it’s you instead. He feels her tighten around his cock, she’s going to cum soon. At least it’ll finally be over soon. With one last thrust of his hips into her she cums around him, her walls contracting and releasing intensely before slowing down to a rhythmic pattern. He pulls out and cums. But it’s not fulfilling in the slightest, just a biological reaction, nothing emotional about it.

He pulls out of her, resting by her side. She rolls over to face him, a hand tracing up and down his bicep. Her pupils are blown wide and she’s got the look of love in her eye.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asks sweetly.

“Of course.”

“Up for a round two?”

“I’m getting tired.”

“No worries.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you),” she whispers.

He repeats the phrase back to her, not because he feels it, of course. But out of obligation; to keep up appearances. He falls asleep on his back, with May pressed up against him. The guilt weighs heavy on his mind, feeling that somehow he has betrayed you.

In the morning when they wake up May sits up and asks, “When do you think you’ll head out for your next bounty? I think we need some things from the market on Nevarro.”

He tries not to sound too excited when he responds.

“I can go today if you’d like.”

“That’s fine with me,” she says, getting up out of bed and starting to put her flight suit back on.

“I promised Bo-Katan I’d help her map out where the new docking yards and storage houses are going to go,” she continues while attaching her armor.

“You’re still good to watch Grogu, right?” he asks, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Of course,” she says, turning to face him with all of her armor on except for her helmet.

“How many times do I have to tell you? He’s our son. I’m not “watching” him. I’m taking care of him like a mother would.”

“You’re right,” Din says curtly, standing up to put his flight suit on.

“I’m heading out now. Bring him to Bo-Katan’s for me?” she says, standing in the doorway.

“Yes, once I’m finished preparing for the trip.”

“See you soon!” she calls over her shoulder. She grabs her helmet from the kitchen table and heads out.

He lets out a sigh once she’s gone. At least he’ll get to have a little bit of alone time with his son before he leaves. He finishes putting his armor on and heads into Grogu’s room, getting him out of his sleeping pod. He babbles happily when he sees Din and it makes Din’s heart pang with joy. He could do this, Din thinks to himself. He could do this whole settling down on Mandalore thing if it were just him and Grogu, maybe even just the two of them on Nevarro together. But he got too carried away following what others were doing and felt the need to fit in; felt the need to devote himself to his creed and his people. Some days when he’s feeling particularly sour he questions if all this is worth it, giving up his free will to devote himself to a greater good. But he quickly puts that thought out of his mind. He owes his life to the Mandalorians, to the Children of the Watch. And to be anything but grateful for them would be against his character.

He scoops Grogu into his arms and takes him into the kitchen, feeding him breakfast from what’s left over from his last trip to Nevarro. The Mandalorians have been getting better at farming in the barren climate that is Mandalore so if Din is gone for a while on his next trip to see you he won’t feel too guilty, hopefully.

After breakfast is finished Din puts on his helmet and takes Grogu to the Razor Crest in his pouch, enjoying some quality time with his son before leaving him for a while again. He makes sure he has enough supplies and rations for his trip and then heads back into the village to bring Grogu to Bo-Katan’s house. Her house is a mirror image of his and May’s house; a utilitarian house made of stone. In fact, the whole village is made up of houses like that. The Mandalorians are ones for function, not so much style. But some Mandalorians painted small designs that matched the color of their armor or their clan signets. Din hasn’t gotten around to doing theirs yet, figuring May would take it upon herself to.

May and Bo-Katan are talking outside and Din swears for a second they’re talking about him. But that’s probably just his paranoia coming through. May has no reason to not believe Din’s stories about heading out for bounties. It’s not a total lie. He’s just leaving out the parts that include you and rightfully so. You’re Din’s little secret; his guilty pleasure. He doesn’t even want to think about the day when your relationship is brought to light, because if he plays his cards right that won’t happen at all.

“Heading out again, Din?” Bo-Katan asks.

“Mhm. Back to Nevarro to collect another job.”

“Who knew that being a member of the Guild while living here could be so… prosperous,” she continues.

“It’s been great!” May chimes in, “He’s been such a great provider for our family.”

“I’m glad it’s all working out. Especially since we can send and receive transmissions now. You two will be able to keep in touch while he’s gone.”

“You’re right. In fact, while I was preparing the ship, I already sent a transmission to Karga. Got two jobs waiting for me.”

“That’s my hardworking riduur!” May cheerfully exclaims.

How awkward for Din.

“It’s nice to see you two so happy,” Bo-Katan smiles as Din passes off Grogu to May.

“You better get going. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” May says as she takes Grogu in her arms.

Din repeats the phrase back to her, his words coming out stiff and unconvincing. Bo-Katan raises an eyebrow at him, looking at him like she can see the nervous look on his face under the helmet. He says his goodbyes quickly, turning and heading back to the ship. If they weren’t talking about him before they’re surely talking about him now. Whatever, he can’t think about that now. His obligations to May are satisfied for the moment and now he gets to focus on you.

He takes off for Naboo, leaving Mandalore’s treacherous atmosphere and trying to not think about when he’ll receive a transmission from May, since that’s a thing he has to worry about now.

In the few rotations it takes to get to Naboo he follows a certain routine; sleeping, eating rations, making sure the Crest is still following the correct path, and masturbating to thoughts of you of course. In his cot under the dim light of the Crest and the blue haze of hyperspace, he thinks of you and what you would be doing if you were here right now with him. He tries not to think about how insane it is that he’s crossing the galaxy for sex but he also knows that this could be more than just sex. If he gets the chance to know you that is.

Eventually, his jaunt across space comes to an end and the grassy knolls and the vast swamps of Naboo are coming into view. The sun is starting to set and the entire landscape is cast in an amber glow. Hopefully, you’re working since that’s where Din knows to look for you first. But he also hopes you’ll be getting off of work soon and he can have you all to himself.

Now that he knows where the Star-Lux is, he just parks on that side of Theed, making his walk to you rather brief. The plains turn into stone-covered streets beneath his feet and soon enough he’s standing in front of the Star-Lux. He takes a deep breath, hoping you’re at the front desk and heads inside.

You

You’re leaning against the front desk, resting your head on your hand, tapping your fingers along the stone countertop, and glancing back and forth at the clock. You close your eyes, willing the time to go by faster. The door opens and you sense someone coming towards the desk quickly. You think it’s an angry customer, so you open your eyes and brace yourself. But instead it’s the person you want to see most, Mando.

He rests his elbows on the desk, reaching for your hand and locking his visor onto your eyes.

“I need a room,” he says, his tone urgent.

“S-Sure. Anything for you,” you say, glancing down at your data pad.

“Do you get off soon?” he asks, still holding your hand.

“In about thirty minutes.”

“Meet me in my room when you’re done?” he says, hope in his voice.

“Do you even have to ask?” you respond, complete with a sly grin.

“Let me get set up,” you continue, letting go of his hand to set up his reservation.

“How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Room 115,” you say, handing him his key card.

“Thirty minutes?” he asks, taking the card in his hand.

“Thirty minutes.”

His gaze lingers on you for just a moment before he sets off down the hallway. Man if time wasn’t moving slow as hell before it sure is now. You know exactly what’s going to happen as soon as you enter that room and you can’t wait. Not even just to be fucked by him but also to lay with him, enjoy his company, and ask him questions. You’ve been reading about the Mandalorians and their culture in the library since you last saw him but it’s different to learn about it all from the real source.

After what feels like hours Maree shows up and trades places with you. You can’t run to Mando’s door fast enough. As soon as you knock he opens the door, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you inside. The door closes behind you and he presses you up against it, keeping his hands on your waist and bringing his helmet beside your ear.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confesses.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” you giggle.

He pulls you over to the bed, pushing you down lightly. He hikes up the skirt of your dress and you spread your legs for him. He starts to undress you, taking off each of your shoes, pulling off each of your stockings, and finally hooking his fingers around your panties and sliding them off. He crouches down on the bed, resting on his arms and looking at your cunt; looking at how wet it already is.

“I wish I could taste it, but I can’t.”

“You’re a member of the Children of the Watch, aren’t you?” you ask, sitting up a tad and resting on your elbows.

“How did you know?”

“I read about Mandalorians in the library… And I learned what mesh’la means,” you smirk.

“I meant it,” he says, visor meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks heat up.

He trails two fingers up and down your entrance, the feeling ever so light; so teasing. You whine in response and he just chuckles.

“I’m taking my time with you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, resting on your back again.

“Mhm. Now that I have you in a bed, not in some alley.”

He slides one finger in, extra slow, curling it against your walls. He adds a second and then removes both of them quickly, holding his hand up. He rubs his thumb against his index and middle fingers before drawing his thumb back and watching your wetness stretch and follow the movement.

“You’re so wet,” he says softly, “So wet for me.” Almost like he’s in disbelief that you got this wet just for him. When in reality you can’t believe he wants you so bad, so bad that he’s crossing the galaxy for you.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer,” you whine.

And he obliges, returning his fingers inside you and leaning forward so his helmet is by your face. He watches you intently, watching the way your face changes as you get closer. He curls his fingers against your g-spot and rubs his thumb around your clit. Your mouth falls into a soft O, your pleasure coming to a head. The floodgates are threatening to burst.

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe out.

“Cum for me, cyar’ika (sweetheart).”

And you do. Your walls flutter around his fingers, slicking his glove completely. His visor leaves your face for a split second to look down at the way your cunt grips his fingers before looking back at you. You wish you could see him; see the face of the man who’s making you feel heavenly. But there’s also something about not seeing his face that’s exhilarating and intriguing.

He pulls his fingers from you when you’re done coming. Once you’ve caught your breath you say, “Let me take care of you.”

“Please,” he says quickly, not missing a beat.

You sink to the floor and he sits at the edge of the bed. His cock is already pitching a tent in his flight suit, begging to be freed. You take it out, holding his length in your hand and getting a better look at it now that you’re face to face with it. The size is intimidating and you can’t believe you’ve already had it inside you.

You start by stroking it softly, now getting to take your time with him. He lets out a groan from under the helmet. And then ever so slowly you swirl your tongue around the tip, repeating that a few times before taking him in your mouth. You bob your head up and down all while stroking the base.

“Kriff,” he curses under his breath.

One of his hands cups your cheek as you suck him off and his visor is locked on you. You cup his balls as you start to suck harder, feeling him twitch inside your mouth. He must be getting close.

He stops you, pulling himself out of your mouth and saying, “I need you. Now.”

You nod and rise from the floor, pulling off your dress over your head. You lay down, spreading your legs for him once again. He situates himself between your thighs, running a hand along your outline and looking at your naked form. And you get to look directly at him this time, instead of being pressed up against the wall.

Wasting not another second, he thrusts into you, hooking his arms around your thighs and leaning forward. He folds you in half, driving his cock into you further. With this new angle, he hits places you never even thought possible, his cock spitting you in half with his girth.

“Mando, I'm gonna cum,” you whine.

“Soak my cock, mesh’la.”

With one last slam of his hips, you’re coming undone around him, shockwaves of pleasure originating at your core and spreading outwards. Your back arches and tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you ride out your high, feeling the intense peaks and valleys, before slowing to a soft ebb and flow. Mando lets out a guttural moan, helmet thrown back in pleasure. He cums, too, keeping the head of his cock flush against your cervix as he spills his cum inside you.

He pulls out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you and immediately pulling you into him. You’re both silent for a moment, unsure of what the next move is.

“I do have the place for the night…”

“Are you asking me to stay over?” you tease, head resting on the cool breastplate.

“…Yes.”

“Okay, again… Did you really think you had to ask?”

He chuckles, a hand running up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

“About that other thing I called you-”

“Already know what that means, too.”

Another chuckle. “Well then goodnight, cyar’ika,” he says, reaching over to turn off the lamp.

“Goodnight, Mando.”

Chapter Four

End note: Ahhhh the lies get deeper and deeper!! As always let me know your thoughts🤍

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 6

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 3,308

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm getting excited to finish up the series. Four chapter left and so far it seems like the story is staying on track, and it shouldn't go over. (But you never know! 😁) Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging this series! It means SO much! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N felt her heart beat triple time as she watched Dean’s face return to the stony granite it had been when she’d first come to camp. Over the last couple of months she'd begun to see him soften slightly; there were even a few moments where he’d seemed on the verge of smiling. His eyes had eventually lost their frosty hardness, and their look of perpetual suspicion.

But both were back with a vengeance now.

She shook her head at him again and tried to understand what he was talking about. “What kind of psychic am I?” She asked, the question conjuring up an urge to laugh. The idea of her having psychic abilities was laughable to her. But she didn’t think Dean would appreciate the humor around it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I haven’t done anything, and I certainly have no psychic powers.”

Dean said nothing, just shuffled sideways towards the door without taking his eyes off of her. Y/N took a few steps towards him, but froze when his hand dropped to the pistol on his thigh and he hissed at her. “Stay back.”

She felt Emma come up and hide behind her leg and her daughter's renewed fear made anger start to burn in Y/N’s chest. In the last few weeks that Dean had been coming to dinner, Emma had been gradually losing her fear of him, offering him shy smiles and even bringing him one of her books and asking him to read to her.

But now Y/N could feel her tremble slightly and frustration flared in her. What was Dean doing? And why? Because her mother had died in a fire when she was a baby? What kind of logic was that? Where was all this insanity coming from?

Dean walked to the entrance of the cabin and called to Patrick. When the soldier appeared in the doorway Dean spoke to him brusquely.

“Go get Castiel.”

Patrick looked back and forth between Dean and Y/N and frowned at the obvious tension. “Sir?” He questioned.

“Now.” Dean said with finality. As the man turned to leave Dean spoke again. “And send Risa in here.”

Dean continued to stare at Y/N, keeping his attention intensely fixated on her, the way he’d done during those first few days she’d been there. When Risa came into the cabin she frowned; like Patrick, she could clearly sense the hostility in the room.

When Dean saw her he nodded towards Emma. “Take the kid.”

Panic suffused Y/N and she began shaking her head. Emma clutched tightly to her leg and began crying and whimpering softly. She shook her head and buried her face in Y/N’s hip. “No, mommy.” She hiccuped softly.

“Take her.” Dean said quietly but firmly. There was a pause for a moment as Risa’s eyes lingered on Emma and Y/N before she shook her head.

“No.”

Dean turned his head slowly to look at his soldier, his expression incredulous and furious at the same time.

“Excuse me?” He said softly, and Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine.

Risa looked away for a moment, clearly intimidated by Dean's anger. But when she looked back at him, her brow was crinkled and she still questioned his demand.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I gave you an order, soldier.” was Dean's softly spoken reply.

Risa stared at Dean a moment longer before she took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly and forcefully, turning and walking towards Y/N and Emma.

Emma started crying in earnest and Y/N knew that no matter what, she had to try and ease her daughter’s fear. She got down on her haunches and smoothed back Emma’s fly away hair. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” She smiled brightly at her, desperately trying to erase all her own fear and anxiety about what was happening.

“Dean and I are just gonna be here for a little while trying to figure out some boring grown up stuff.” Y/N’s happy smile seemed to be fooling Emma slightly because her tears were slowing and she sniffled.

Y/N kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you let Risa take you to see Keisha and Julianne. It will be so much more fun to play with them for a while, rather than staying here and listening to boring grownups talking. And I’ll come pick you up later, okay? I promise.”

She felt awful making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, but she wanted to believe she would be picking her up later, and she wanted Emma to lose the look of panic in her eyes.

She nodded towards Risa. “Go on now, and have fun playing. I’ll see you soon.” She kissed her forehead and gave her another bright smile.

Emma nodded, still obviously unsure, but willing to believe what Y/N was telling her.

Y/N kept her happy smile in place until Emma was out the door and then her mask dropped and she looked at Dean, her eyes accusing.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked quietly.

Before he could answer, Castiel walked through the door. Like the others, he seemed to notice the tension immediately and questioned it.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean motioned for Y/N to move backwards. “Sit down.” He said, with a gesture towards the folding chair she’d been sitting on to read the story. When she did, Dean turned his head towards Castiel, but never took his eyes off of her.

“I know why she’s immune.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch. “You do?” She asked, some of her anger burning away from pure shock. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Though she still had no idea what this had to do with her mother’s death.

But evidently it was connected, because the angel’s eyes widened in disbelief as Dean continued. “Her mother died in a fire when she was a baby.”

It was to her that Castiel looked for an answer. “Is that true, Y/N?” She nodded. “My God.”

“Will someone please explain what my mother dying has to do with anything?” Y/N asked with immense frustration.

But the men ignored her for the moment. Dean was finally looking at the angel properly and he nodded at the questions in his blue eyes.

“Yeah, she’s a psychic kid. She’s immune, just like Sam was.”

“Who is Sam?” Y/N asked, but was ignored again.

Castiel was shaking his head. “Maybe…” He looked back towards her briefly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Dean scoffed. “Come on Cas! This is way too big a coincidence to be…coincidental.”

Cas nodded reluctantly and then frowned. “But, if she's psychic...then what’s her gift?”

Both men turned to stare at her, and Dean spoke softly. “That’s a real good question. Because she could be doing anything to us, mind controlling us, or manipulating us to only see what she wants us to.”

Y/N finally did let out a bark of laughter. “Are you insane? You think I’m mind controlling you? If I had the power of mind control, I’d definitely make you be nicer, or I’d make you let me go, because this whole thing is ridiculous! And you still haven’t explained why on earth you think I’m psychic and why my mother’s death is involved.”

Dean stared at her for a long time, and Cas just watched him. Finally Dean spoke and his voice was calm and even, as though he was just telling her a story while they sat around her table eating dinner.

“Ten years before you were born, your mother or father made a deal with a yellow-eyed demon. They got something they desperately wanted and he got permission to enter their house. When you were six months old he came into your room, slit himself open and bled into your mouth. Your mother likely interrupted him somehow, and he killed her and burnt the place down around her.”

Y/N felt her stomach turn at Dean’s words. He had to be insane, there was no way it could be true. Demon blood? A demon killed her mother? She shook her head.

“How on earth could you possibly know any of this?”

“Because it’s exactly what happened to my mom, and my brother. The demon fed him his blood, killed my mom, and when Sam turned 22 he started having psychic visions. And he wasn’t the only psychic kid. There were a bunch of them, and without fail every single one of them had powers and every single one of them went bad.”

His jaw clenched and he folded his arms over his chest. “So, if you’re gonna sit there and try and tell me that you’re the only one that never had the blood take hold, the only one who managed to avoid being triggered when you turned 22? Well, then I know you’re lying. So, I’ll ask you one more time.”

His eyes were chips of ice once again. “What can you do? And what have you done already?”

Y/N blew out a puff of exasperation. “I can’t do anything, do you hear me? I am not psychic! I have no powers!”

Cas stepped forward, putting himself between the two of them. “Okay, Y/N, have you ever felt something, something that made you different from other people? Like,” he snapped his fingers, “the ability to connect easily with people maybe? You seem to make friends quickly, people respond to you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “So being a nice person makes me a psychic now?”

Cas shook his head. “No, but maybe it’s more than you being nice, maybe people can’t help but like you. It could be involuntary on both their part and yours. Like some sort of psychic charisma”

Cas seemed to like his idea, his expression saying that he thought he’d figured it out.

But Y/N was again shaking her head. “No, look, that’s not true. I’ve had lots of people not like me, I’ve had people try to kill me in my sleep just to steal my blanket, I’ve had men attack me just for…well, for being a woman. And I can promise you I didn’t get away from those people by smiling at them and asking nicely.”

Y/N felt the old fears rise in her as she remembered the panic and terror of those moments and so many more like them. To think that she had some kind of mind control or psychic abilities and hadn’t used them then, was laughable.

Cas looked slightly defeated and Dean pushed him aside. “The fact is though, that you could be lying through your teeth, you could be saying anything to knock us off your scent.”

Y/N scowled at him and then stood up. Dean stepped back, and yanked Cas back by his shoulder. “Sit down.” He ordered her but she shook her head.

“This is ridiculous, Dean. You have to know it is.” She took a step towards him. “What about our…our friendship? What about what happened last night?”

Dean’s eyes just got colder and his voice was deep and demanding. “I said, sit down. Now!”

“Dean.” Y/N began and stepped closer again, reaching out to him. But she stopped dead and dropped her hands to her sides as Dean pulled his gun from its holster in the span of a breath.

“I said get back, and sit down.” He said, slow and deliberate.

Y/N looked at the gun pointed at her, looked at Dean holding it, his hand not wavering an inch, and she was suddenly, unbearably sad. She stared at him and knew her heartbreak was plastered on her face, she was bad at concealing emotions.

She nodded slowly and moved back to sit in the chair. She had lied to Emma; she wouldn’t be picking her up tonight.

***

The night passed just as her first night in camp had; with her sleeping lightly, troubled by disturbing dreams and waking to find Dean watching her almost unblinkingly. He took her to the outhouses on his own this time, and she wasn’t in chains so, that much had changed. But his hand hovering over his gun the whole way there and back definitely felt binding, and kept her locked in place just ahead of him.

When they got back to the cabin Dean walked over to the door and said something quietly to whoever was just outside. A few minutes later Theresa arrived with breakfast. She looked at Y/N back in her spot on the floor by the table leg and her young face creased in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” She asked Y/N with a look thrown at Dean.

Y/N tried to smile and put her student’s mind at ease. “Nothing, sweetie. Just trying to sort something out. Tell your mom thank you for the breakfast, but I’m not hungry. You should take that back to her so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Eat it.” Dean’s voice rang out with authority and Theresa took a step closer to Y/N.

Y/N didn’t bother looking at him. Instead she gave Theresa a reassuring nod and the girl bent to set the tray on the ground. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ll probably be hungry later.”

But she wasn’t. She felt guilty enough about wasting food to try and swallow some down, but it just stuck in her throat and she gagged on it and spit it out. At lunch Brandy brought the food tray and she was slightly more vocal with her questions than her daughter was.

“What the hell is going on here?” She asked Dean. “All the parents are confused and worried. They said you ordered them out of here yesterday and no one has seen Y/N since; Emma’s back with Monique.”

She set the lunch tray on the table Y/N leaned against and bent to pick up the uneaten breakfast tray. She was looking at Y/N, but still addressing Dean when she spoke. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” Dean answered brusquely.

Brandy stood to her full height and her large chest rose and fell with indignation. “Since when do you keep me out of the loop?”

Dean frowned at her and his voice was laced with annoyance and anger. “Since this isn’t something that requires your attention. And I’d like to know, exactly when did everyone start questioning my orders?”

Brandy shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his foreboding tone. “I guess when your orders started to seem stupid.”

Y/N’s eyes grew round, beyond impressed at the woman’s boldness and nerve. Dean seemed much less impressed by it though, staring the woman down with a furious expression. But Brandy kept his gaze and never wavered. Finally Dean spoke through gritted teeth.

“Take away the tray, and send someone else with the supper tray.”

Brandy stayed still until Dean took a step towards her and yelled, “That is an order!”

Brandy shook her head, but turned towards the door as she answered. “Don’t forget, boss, not all of us are your soldiers. Some of us follow you because you’ve been a good leader.” She paused at the door and looked back at him. “Don’t fuck that up.”

She walked out, leaving behind an electric buzz of tension in the air. Dean turned back to her and the muscle in his jaw was still jumping.

“Eat.”

But Y/N shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit!” Dean said bitingly. “You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. You have to be hungry. I don’t know what kind of hunger strike, sympathy ploy you’re going for here, but it’s not gonna work. Now, eat!” He ended on a shout and something snapped inside Y/N.

She jumped to her feet and yelled back. “This isn’t a sympathy ploy, you bloody dumbass! I can’t eat the food because it tastes disgusting to me and it chokes me. My stomach is in knots and I feel sick! And do you know why that is? Because you keep threatening to kill me!”

Dean thundered towards her, stopping barely two feet from her. “Yeah, and I’m not gonna have you starve to death before I get the chance! Now eat!”

Y/N threw her arms wide. “What the hell do you care if I starve! It’ll just save you a bullet!”

She took a deep breath, feeling herself unraveling but unable to stop. “You have me locked up in this place, again! You think I’m some kind of horrible monster. Again!” Her voice broke. “You have taken my child away from me! Again! So don’t pretend to give a shit about my fucking health and wellbeing!” She reached out to furiously smash the food tray to the ground.

Silence descended and Y/N breathed hard and heavy through her nose, her anger carrying her through a little longer before she turned away from him and buried her face in her hands, quiet, uncontrollable sobs shaking her.

By the time she managed to get herself under some kind of control, she turned around to see that Dean was gone. She looked around the room as though he might be hiding in plain sight, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Y/N walked over and fell down onto the chair he'd sat in all night. She felt exhausted and deflated. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but it felt like ages before Cas walked through the door. He looked solemn and he nodded at her.

“Dean says that you should go.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “He’s kicking us out?”

Cas held up a hand. “Oh, no! Not…he didn’t say for you to go from camp. I mean that he said for you to go from here. Go get your daughter, go back to your tent. That kind of go.”

Y/N shook her head, more confused than ever. “I don’t understand. Now, suddenly he doesn’t think I’m some kind of psychic menace?”

Cas shrugged. “Psychic yes, but menace no. He said, and I quote, ‘She was pissed enough to take off my head if she could have, and she didn’t, so she can’t.’” He shook his head. “Occasionally his thought process is hard to follow.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

She didn’t waste anymore time right then, though, contemplating Dean’s bizarre behavior; she was free to go and she ran to get Emma, apologizing for taking longer than she said she would to come get her.

Emma forgave her easily for not keeping her promise, relief clear in her big, deep cerulean eyes. They spent the evening cuddling in the tent; Y/N read her a dozen books and played clapping games with her until Emma’s eyes were shining again, and no more fear or worry clouded them.

At bedtime she sang her a song and Emma drifted off to sleep happily; Y/N found no such easy reprieve. She laid awake for hours trying to understand Dean and the way he thought. He’d been so angry, so sure of her wickedness and evil. And then, just like that, because she’d exploded in anger, he let her go?

How did that man’s mind work? And how did he see her now? Harmless psychic freak? Or someone he’d still have to keep a close eye on?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter, he’d made himself perfectly clear on one thing, the relationship she’d thought they had, the friendship that she’d hoped would grow into more had meant nothing to him. The kiss they’d shared had meant nothing.

She meant nothing. He couldn't have acted the way he did if he cared about her at all.

She needed to remember that going forward and not let her heart get entangled so easily.

From now on, she needed to keep her distance.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @hobby27

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #endverse!dean x y/n #endverse #endverse!dean series #dean winchester fan fic #the dangers of hope

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atlasofthestaars · 6 months

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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .009

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: I actually looked at my notes and went huh, I can compress the rest of the ideas into one chapter, so next chapter we’ll kinda be getting back on track with the plot!

This chapter we will be having a poll for Ashrah, and this is the last love interest poll! I’ll still do polls from time to time to have some sort of reader interactivity, but it won’t be as frequent (though next chapter DOES have a bit of a special poll though haha)

As usual, taking votes on Ashrah for a week, aka until the tumblr poll ends.

Also I never mentioned this but?? Sadly, Rain didn’t get in the love interest line up, but don’t fret! He will still be relevant to the plot in other ways :D Mileena, on the other hand, did get in!

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO COOKS FOR OTHERS

It turns out, you enjoyed cooking far more than you realized.

“Here, I’m positive this is your favorite.”

Handing Kenshi the meal, you grinned at him, a small hint of smugness in your grin. You admired your own handiwork. You had taken the liberty to pack it in a bento box this time, to match the Japanese cuisine you had made for him.

“You’re very bold claiming that.” Kenshi commented, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you. Yet on his face was a small, amused smile. His gaze dropped to inspect the box, and a small hum left his lips as he nodded approvingly at the way it was packaged. “You even used a bento box, nice attention to detail.”

“I try.” You said playfully, laying a hand on your chest. “I’ll have you know I went out of my way to obtain one just for you.”

“I’m honored.” Kenshi replied in a light, playful way that reflected yours.

You watched with bated breath as he opened the bento box. With satisfaction, you watched as the expectant look on his face gave way to one of shock. You crossed your arms smugly, basking in the pride you felt at his reaction.

“This…is actually my favorite.” Kenshi said in awe, eyes searching the bento box as he scanned all the items in front of him. His eyes glanced from you, back down to the food, back to you with surprise evident on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he processed the situation in front of him. “How did you guess this so accurately?”

“Just because I’m not a god like Lord Liu Kang doesn’t mean I don’t have tricks of my own.” You said vaguely. It was best not to mention how you had a hazy memory of cooking this food for him in your past life. You watched as the swordsman’s eyebrows rose, but ultimately he did not question you. Still, you watched as he pursed his lips.

“It was a lucky guess, wasn’t it?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

“Nope, I just have really good intuition.” You replied, grinning at the man still. His eyes narrowed, seeming unsatisfied with your vague and ultimately illogical answer. He glanced down again, scanning the food, scrutinizing it again.

“That’s basically the same thing as luck, if you think about it.” He pointed out with a small huff. He challenged you with a long stare.

“No.” You quickly replied, a small pout on your lips now. “Luck is guessing something out of nothing.” You pointed out before gesturing to him. “I used intuition. That means I used what I knew about you to guess what your favorite food was.” You shrugged. “That’s the difference, see?”

“And you think I look like someone who enjoys this type of food?” Kenshi inquired, trying to see if he could get more information out of you. You could tell from the tone of his voice he was being playful still. You gestured to the bento box with a sly look on your face. You glanced down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Well, I made it for you, hm?” You replied, with a tone that screamed ‘isn’t it obvious?’ “And from what you told me, I got it absolutely correct.” You continued, crossing your arms as you saw him sigh.

“I guess you did.” He conceded as he nodded. Kenshi then smiled at you, something that you weren’t all too familiar with, but found charming nevertheless. “Thank you.” He said, before pausing. “This will be nice to eat. I haven’t had any Japanese food since I left the Yakuza.”

“No problem.” You told him. Too absorbed in your glee, you put a hand on his shoulder and pat it. “If you ever want me to make you more, just let me know.” You told him, sending him a wink. “You’re the one who helped me improve my cooking so far.” You glanced at the sky. “Well, it’s time for me to go, let me know what you think of it next time.”

You left, and Kenshi was left staring after you, watching you for a few moments. The peace and quiet lasted for a few mere moments before Johnny Cage came strolling in, looking between Kenshi and you who was walking off in the distance.

“You having a moment or something, tattoo?” Johnny asked as he glanced between you two again. He peered over Kenshi’s shoulder as he inspected the food. “Hah, teach gave you some food? Let me try.” He said, before reaching out to grab a piece of it. He let out a small ‘ow’ as his hand was quickly smacked away.

“This isn’t yours, Cage.” Kenshi huffed, glaring at the actor. Johnny put his hands up in surrender, letting out a snicker at the protective look on the swordsman’s face. He then, before anyone else could try and get their hands on his food, grabbed a piece of the food and popped it into his mouth.

It tasted like home.

“Kung Lao is here.”

Opening the door to the kitchen, Liu Kang peered in. The smell of wonderful, delicious food wafted his way. Even the god himself felt hungry from the scent of your cooking alone, and he even was able to resist Madam Bo’s food. There was clanging of pots and pans, and the hissing of food as it hit the hot pans.

“Okay, give me a moment!” You called out, glancing over your shoulder. You turned off the heat, quickly dumping the finished food into a bowl on the side.You could continue your cooking endeavor later. You wiped off the sweat that had formed on your brow. You had been standing over the stove for a while now, slaving away at making a wonderful dinner to which you’d be serving later for the Lin Kuei trio.

“Alright, I’ll have him wait.” The fire god called out before he closed the door, letting you finish doing what you had been doing.

With a sigh you stepped back and leaned on the wall. The air even a few steps away from the stove felt refreshing. You stood, letting the air cool you off a bit more before you stepped out of the kitchen. You quickly made your way to your room, grabbing the package Liu Kang had given you a day ago before rushing off to the room where people usually waited when they sought out an audience with Liu Kang.

“Hi, sorry for the wait!” You greeted, still feeling a little sweaty as you briskly walked over to Kung Lao. You watched as he looked at you in surprise. You supposed it was because he had never seen you to the point of exertion like this. After all, you rarely broke a sweat during their training. He had a similar reaction when you had shown up to train them in bandages after your sparring with Bi-Han a while ago, so your assumption probably wasn’t too far off.

“It’s all fine.” Kung Lao said, waving off your apology. He rubbed his hands together in excitement as he got up. You noted his casual clothes, and it warmed your heart as it reminded you of the movie nights you all had every month or so. He approached you, and his glee was infectious as a smile nearly as bright as his appeared on your face.

“Okay, this should be the last prototype, but it’s pretty much the final product.” You told him, carefully opening the box. The result of the hat within the box was you and Kung Lao discussing how to better innovate and design a hat that suited him. Not only in terms of a weapon, but also as a fashion item since he consistently mentioned wanting to wear it everywhere.

“What’s the point of making it a hat if I can’t wear it everywhere?” The former farmhand had insisted to you many months ago, when he had pointed at the hat which had been much too heavy to wear comfortably. You had sighed but agreed. He did have a point.

It also comforted you to know that some things never seemed to change, such as Kung Lao’s devotion to his hat.

Lifting the hat out of the box, Kung Lao held it with some reverence. His eyes sparkled with delight as he held it up. He first inspected it from all angles, marveling over the precise craftsmanship that went into creating the perfect weapon that happened to be a hat.

You sent him a look as his finger traced the razor sharp edge. It was the same look you sent him to warn him to be careful everytime he did it. He rolled his eyes, but in a playful manner. You scoffed lightheartedly in return.

“You’re going to cut your finger on it one day, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“But I haven’t yet.” Kung Lao bragged cockily. He withdrew his finger from the bladed edge, cut free. He wiggled his fingers smugly to show that fact off. “See? I am already a professional around this thing.” He said with utmost confidence. You sighed and shook your head.

“If I ever hear word that you end up cutting your finger on the edge, I’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You promised as you smiled at him teasingly. You watched as his eyebrows raised before a sly grin appeared on his face. He leaned forward with a small chuckle.

“Hah! That won’t happen.” He scoffed, and you could tell that his ego was growing again. You rolled your eyes as you pushed him back lightly. Kung Lao let out a loud chuckle, amused by the banter that happened between you. This back and forth, it felt natural. For a moment, you looked at him and remembered simpler times with him and Liu Kang.

Your heart squeezed, a feeling you won’t ever be able to truly suppress no matter how many times it occurred.

“Oh really, want to put your money where your mouth is?” You propose, trying to ignore the way your heart yearned for a life you no longer had. You watched as Kung Lao’s grin grew wider. If there was one thing you had learned from training him, it was that the man from Fengjian loved to bet. It was something you caught your students doing often due to his influence.

“You’re finally making a bet with me?” Kung Lao asked, a tone of excitement in his voice. While it wasn’t often, you had a bet tossed your way here and there. You had turned them down previously, but now it was different now that you were the one proposing the bet.

“That’s what I asked you, no?” You sassed him, raising your eyebrows.

“Then I gladly accept a bet with you.” Kung Lao graciously accepted, tilting his head. “Just a shame that our first bet together will have a guaranteed loss on your end.” He added on. The pure confidence in your tone had you letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Calm down, we haven’t even set up the terms of our bet.” You reminded him, all too amused by his pride. Still, your words did not make the confident and smug look on his face waver at all. He truly believed in himself, a trait you somewhat admired.

“I’ll win either way.” Kung Lao quipped, which made you roll your eyes again. It was an action you found yourself doing often around the man, no matter how much he amused you. “How about this, you stop sending me that look you do everytime I do this…” The former farmhand traced his finger along the blade’s edge once more. Instinctively, you found yourself doing the look he was referring to. “For a week. And if I prove I don’t need that reminder to not cut my finger, then I win.”

“Do I get penalized if I accidentally send you the look?”

“I’ll be generous and say no.” Kung Lao said, his smug look turning a tad bit more cheeky as he looked at you. “All I need to do is prove that I won’t cut my fingers on this hat.” He claimed, and you nodded, not finding anything wrong with the terms he had. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” He declares.

You let out a hum, now thinking of the terms of winning the bet. You closed your eyes, recalling how prideful Kung Lao was. He would probably be his own downfall, honestly.

A small voice whispered in your head telling you he already did, reminding you of the visions of his untimely death in another life haunting you.

“Alright, I accept.” You hastily replied, trying to ignore the voice that sent chills down your back. You stuck your hand out to seal the deal. Almost instantly, he grabbed yours and shook it in a firm handshake. You smiled.

His hand was softer than you were expecting.

“I hope you’re prepared to lose.” He taunted, putting the hat back in the box with his free hand that held the hat. He seemed satisfied enough with the final product. You sighed and squeezed his hand as if challenging him.

“Don’t be so quick to think yourself victorious, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly before letting go of his hand. How his hand felt lingered in your mind a few more minutes before you saw his face turn a little sheepish as he looked down at your torso. You raised an eyebrow and looked down, completely forgetting the apron you had donned.

“Had I been interrupting something?” He inquired, an innocent tone to his voice. You let out a small laugh as you waved off his question. How unusual for him to have that tone of voice. You shook his head, and he nodded, now a curious look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, you had just interrupted me making dinner. I’m inviting the three Lin Kuei men who had tested you. Don’t worry about being an interruption though, I was the one who asked you to drop by.” You told him, reassuring him that he had not been a bother at all.

“You…cook?” Kung Lao said, processing your words. You nodded slowly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yeah, Madam Bo taught me.” You watched as Kung Lao’s jaw dropped in surprise. You shrugged causally, looking at him. “Who do you think was giving Kenshi all that food?” You asked. You watched as he processed all of this, and gasped.

“You cook like Madam Bo, and didn’t give me any?” He inquired, the tone of his voice indicating you’ve committed a crime akin to a sin. You laughed at the absurdity of his reaction, he was more of a food lover than you had presumed.

“I needed criticism to improve, Kung Lao.” You watched him pout at your excuse, probably thinking it wasn’t good enough. “I promise I’ll give you some food soon enough, okay?” You told him, placing a hand on your hip. You watched as he perked up.

“You’ll be doing that regardless, since I’m planning on making you make me a feast once I win our bet.” Kung Lao declared, and you sighed. You pat down your apron, trying to clean it before you went back into the kitchen.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when you lose, Kung Lao.” You remarked, grinning at him mischievously. You grabbed his shoulder, pushing him towards the entrance of the Fire Temple. “Now go back and rest, I have to go prepare dinner.” You told him, knowing he would delay longer to see if you could also make him a meal.

“Don’t forget your promise!” He called over his shoulder as he began to walk off, a boisterous laugh leaving his lips as he began to walk off. You nodded, reassuring him that you would as long as he stayed on your good side. You sighed as you looked up into the sky, trying to gauge how much time you had left before you had to serve the Lin Kuei brothers.

You had time.

Turning on your heel, you briskly walked back to the kitchen to work away once again.

“You were very prepared for tonight.”

“I know.” You replied, trying not to feel too smug as you led the trio of men into the dining room you had set up. It was much more fancy today than usual, seeing as you didn’t bother to try and decorate much when Liu Kang ate with you.

All types of food were spread across the table, from entrees to side dishes. You also had desserts planned, but you had them stashed away to allow the main courses to shine. Impressively, all of it looked fresh, hot, and ready to eat. You watched the trio’s reactions, and how they varied.

Kuai Liang seemed appreciative of the whole ordeal. A small, rare smile was spread across his lips. His eyes slowly scanned the foods you had on display, analyzing them carefully as if each were a precious art piece. Then, his eyes made their way towards yours and he nodded.

Tomas was very eager, his eyes wide and searching. They darted to and fro, as if he could not settle on what he wanted to eat first. His grin was bigger, and he leaned forward just slightly. You watched as he inhaled deeply, and let out a sigh of longing.

Bi-Han’s reaction was the most subtle. He, as usual, had his resting face on. Yet, at the same time, you could see how his eyes widened slightly, almost as if there were a gleam in his eyes. He also scanned the dishes, but once they landed on a dish you knew was his was favorite, he honed in on it. He glanced away and towards you, a small huff leaving his lips. And dare you say it, you could say the corners of his lips were upturned.

He was smiling. Maybe not the most obvious one, but it was one nevertheless.

Okay, maybe you could afford to let your ego grow a little bit. It’s not everyday you get some of the best Lin Kuei fawning over your cooking.

You made your way to your spot on the table. It was the same spot you always sat at whenever you ate with Liu Kang. You just had a sentimental attachment to it, though you would never admit it outloud. You watched as Bi-Han claimed the seat beside you, and Tomas was across from you. That left Kuai Liang sitting the farthest from you.

“Eat up!” You told them, before grabbing the foods you wanted and sliding them onto your plate. The air was filled with the clinks of dishes being moved around. Here and there there would be a request to pass a dish over.

“This is amazing!” Tomas piped up after a few minutes. On his face was one of the most delighted expressions you’ve ever seen on him. You grinned at him, a surge of pride running through you. You watched with joy as he almost greedily put more of your cooking on his plate. “I wish we had this type of cooking back at the temple.”

“I must agree.” Kuai Liang spoke, nodding. Though he was not as fast as Tomas in eating his meal, you were surprised to see that he had eaten it more quickly than you had expected. “This is delicious, I did not know you were this talented at cooking.” He commended.

Instinctively, you glanced over to Bi-Han. To your surprise, he was silently adding more onto his plate, having almost finished the initial amount he had put on. He looked up from his plate, glancing over to you. His eyes narrowed at your expectant gaze before he tore his eyes away.

“It’s good.” He began, and your jaw dropped a bit at the clear praise. “The Lin Kuei’s cooking standards should be brought up to match these.” Bi-Han continued, which greatly increased your ego. You looked away to preserve your pride by not grinning like a madman.

“Oh it’s nothing.” You said, trying to downplay how happy you felt at their compliments. “I owe it all to Madam Bo, honestly.” You told them, only to feel Bi-Han’s stare.

“Teachings can only get you so far.” Bi-Han pointed out, making your eyebrow raise. He looked away from you to take another bite of your cooking, leaving you to ponder over his words as he ate. “With skill like this, you are far more competent than what you make yourself out to be.”

“Bi-Han’s right.” Tomas spoke up, giving you an encouraging look. “You’re really good!” Kuai Liang nodded in agreement as he silently continued to eat their meal. With their compliments combined, you felt your face grow warm. You looked downwards, a bit shyly and continued to eat.

“You, Lord Liu Kang, and your students are going to Outworld for the tournament soon, correct?” Scorpion inquired, looking up at you. You nodded, taking another bite of your food. “Do you have any idea of who, out of all of your students, will be chosen to compete?”

“Hmm…” You hummed, pondering over the question as you chewed your food slowly. “I think any of them are capable of becoming champion.” You responded, shrugging. “They all show promise.” You let out another hum. “But if I had to choose, I think it would be between Kung Lao and Raiden.”

“The two from the exam?” Bi-Han inquired, his eyebrows raising slightly. At your nod, he huffed. “I recall Kung Lao being presumptuous. I hope your teachings have burst his ego.” He mentioned, and you vaguely remember Bi-Han scoffing at him long ago.

“He’s gotten better.” You say, smiling as you reflect at the progress you have done with your students over the months you’ve been put in charge of them. “Kung Lao is still prideful though, but not too much.” You paused, letting out a small chuckle. “Most times, at least.”

“Are you excited to go to Outworld?” Smoke asked. You nodded in response. The three were not aware of your potential connection with Outworld. Still, you had previously mentioned to them how you were eager for the chance to travel to another realm. They just simply didn’t know why or how eager you were.

“I am. Lord Liu Kang tells me it’s a wonderful, breathtaking place.” You mentioned a small smile on your lips as you heard the small voice in your head that you might finally be able to unlock more memories. “If I find any interesting trinkets, I’ll be sure to bring them back for you guys.”

“You do not need to, but it would be appreciated.” Kuai Liang said, looking at you with eyes that glimmered with appreciation at the mere promise. “I would not want you to worry over gifts for us instead of enjoying the atmosphere.”

“Oh it’d be no issue, trust me.” You reassured him, your smile growing wider.

The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted banter, for the most part, and delicious food. It was nice, having the brothers all together. Still, a bubble of worry formed within you as you all ate. They were all playing nice now, but Kuai Liang’s words of concern echoed in your head.

Was Bi-Han really set on a self destructive path that would tear the brothers apart?

The with closeness of the brothers right now, you didn’t want to believe it. Bi-Han may not show his love for his brothers clearly, but he still cared. Or at least, you thought so. Kuai Liang was not one to worry over such things so easily.

A fire of determination burned in your heart as you bid the trio goodnight. You watched as Bi-Han led them away, and a sigh left your lips. You stood on the bridge, soaking in the moonlight for a few moments more.

You would mend whatever rift was going to tear them apart, no matter what.

“What is all of this?”

Looking up from the little set up, you smiled at the perplexed expression on Raiden’s face. You had invited him out for one last training session before the champion exam. It was nearly a week before you all were going to go to Outworld. For all the months you’ve trained him, Raiden had been very diligent and grown much.

So instead of a training session, you decided you would reward him instead. Maybe it was a little bit biased, but the expression on his face alone right now made it all worth it.

“It’s a reward.” You said simply, standing up. You gestured to the picnic you’ve set up in the courtyard. It was nearly perfect. The stars, the moon, they were all so much prettier tonight. It was the perfect night sky for a late night picnic. “I thought instead of training you to the bone, we could celebrate tonight instead for your growth.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Raiden said, his voice full of awe as he walked over. You sent him a look that told him not to be so humble, not now. He let out a small chuckle as he walked over. You sat down and so did he. He looked over to the spread you had lying out. “This all looks wonderful.” He marvels.

“I hope so. I made it all myself.” You bragged, watching with a bit of satisfaction as his expression turned amazed.

“You did?” He asked, and you nodded. He looked back over to the food with more scrutiny. “I’m honored you made this all, thank you.” He said, his voice full of reverence. He reached out, his hand hovering over some food. The former farmer glanced back at you. “May I?”

“Go right ahead, I made this mostly for you.” You said, grinning as you gestured for him to dig in. You leaned over, grabbing some food for yourself. “I still will eat some too, so don’t you worry.” You let out a small hum of satisfaction as you ate it, enjoying the flavor you had created.

You and Raiden ate, savoring the flavors of the food you made. Silence passed between the both of you for a few moments, finding comfort in simply sitting near each other.

“This is really good.” Raiden complimented after swallowing his bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think. Then, a look of recognition appeared on his face. “This cooking actually reminds me of Madam Bo’s actually.”

“Well, I suppose the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” You commented, grinning slyly at Raiden’s shocked expression when the realization dawned on him.

“Madam Bo taught you how to cook?” He inquired, glancing between you and the food you had created. You nodded, setting down your food for a moment to stretch. You sighed in satisfaction as you felt your joints pop. You really needed to stretch more.

“Is it really that surprising?” You inquired, a teasing tone to your voice as you looked over to Raiden. A look of shock appeared on his features, as realization settled on his features. An almost bashful look appeared on his features as he shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Raiden quickly said, which made you laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully as you lightly nudged his shoulder.

“I’m kidding Raiden.” You told him, a small mischievous look on your lips still. “But yes, Madam Bo did teach me.” You said, a small nostalgic tone to your voice as you looked over the slowly dwindling amount of food that you were sharing. “She was very insistent that I learn from her.”

“I see.” Raiden ate a bit more food, seeming to savor it even more now. An appreciative smile appeared on his face as he indulged in the food you gave him. “I think I like this even more than Madam Bo’s cooking.” He mentioned. looking up at you with that smile of his. Letting out a surprised laugh, you playfully nudged him again.

“Hah! Don’t let Madam Bo hear that!” You teased, grinning at him. You weren’t certain if he was being polite or not. But, you were compelled to believe him with the sincere way he said those words. Raiden’s smile grew bigger.

“She’d probably stuff me full of food until I pop if I said that around her.” Raiden admitted, laughing alongside you.

Soon enough, the food was all finished, it disappearing quickly as you two conversed. It tasted even better with such lovely company. You packed things up in the small basket you brought, with Raiden helping. Even when the surprise was for him, he still found a way to try and work.

“Did you still want me to train tonight?” The man inquired, raising an eyebrow as he helped finish packing up the stuff, except for the blanket the two of you were sitting on. You sighed and shook your head, sending him an exasperated look. Even after al that, he was thinking about training?

And you thought you were the workaholic.

“We’re not training tonight, you have an important exam tomorrow.” You reminded him, sending him an amused look. You pat the space beside you, having him scoot a bit closer to you. You laid down, letting out another sigh as you stared at the stars above you.

“Let’s just observe and enjoy the beauty of the sky tonight.” You proposed, taking in the beauty of the sky. It was magnificent. The sky seemed to be particularly clear tonight, the stars above twinkling brightly. The moon was nice and full. and seemed to be even bigger, allowing for a breathtaking view.

You heard the sound of Raiden also laying down next to you, also taking a moment to lie down. Minutes passed, a comfortable silence once again settling in. It was just you and him, staring up at the stars and taking in the view.

It was times like this you remember just how lucky you are to be able to witness such a thing.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked, searching the stars. You spotted the constellations in the sky you remembered reading about in a few of the books lying around the Fire Temple. Raiden was sent out of his daze when you spoke.

Raiden blinked, looking over to you. His stare lingered on you instead, admiring you instead of the galaxy above. You were too wrapped up in looking at the stars to notice the way he looked at you and how his cheeks warmed up.

There was a moment as he stared at you, realizing how fortunate he was to be by your side.

“Yes…yes they are beautiful.”

part ten

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hotchfiles · 4 months

Text

second. damn your love.

masterlist

pairing: james x fem!reader.

content warnings: james being kind of an ass, cheating on lily, lily will be probably shit talked (i luv her i'm very sorry !), mistress!reader, uhhh cursing, not totally AU but like... canon divergent i would say. probably hurt/no comfort unless i switch the ending but--

worth mentioning: reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. paragraphs completely in italic are flashbacks. pro quidditch player!james. muggle born!reader.

word count: 2,2k

previous chapter

chapter 2

for some reason unknown to you, it hadn't taken james as long as usual to give you any sign that he still remembered your existence after being with you. surprisingly, on the same day after dropping you off at home and rushing to be with his girlfriend, he sent you a message through his patronus (much too recklessly as you lived in a majorly muggle neighbourhood), apologizing for what had happened.

normally, you would believe his words, and then become disappointed. however, after what happened, you didn't believe anything he said, you knew he wasn't sorry and you knew you probably wouldn't be seeing him for a while.

all you felt like doing was laying down, still feeling completely shaken, disappointed, angry... betrayed, and it took you a while to stop crying, you couldn't believe how easy it was to manipulate you, two days together and you actually started to think things were changing.

ingenuity or just the hard truth: it was easier to let yourself believe it.

luckily, or not, you still had your commitment to your responsibilities, if not your pride, you would try to maintain that instead, so the best decision was to get yourself together as best as you could the next day and go to work.

even though you lived mostly among muggles, a decision you had made long before graduating hogwarts, you still ended up in a ministry job, an obliviator. not the most glamorous, and a lot of times you thought about getting a muggle job, but years went on and you got comfortable with it. sometimes being able to forget is the best option there is.

so got yourself together you did, the best as you could included showing up office ready and giving off the obvious energy that you did not want to be perturbed, especially after taking the tube half an hour later than you normally would, too loud, too full, it was probably one of the few times over the last years you wished you could just apparate in front of the right phone cabin. but an obliviator risking wizarding secrecy would be too much of an hypocrisy.

you made sure you wouldn't be making any field work, taking the liberty to be shut in your office filling paperwork and crying, as any mature woman would if they were in your shoes: exhausted from hating yourself because you knew you were an excellent witch, a strong-willed independent woman and still, every time james potter smiled at you, you felt nothing but weakness.

and there it was, the weakness as soon as you left the ministry building and felt his gaze upon you, simply leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his face completely relaxed.

your hands went straight to your eyes, reminding yourself of their appearance, you looked up at the sky for a few seconds and wondered if there was a god, because it didn't matter how much you begged either merlin or godric, you still didn't get one single moment of peace.

"were you crying?" he asked straight away, without even explaining why he was there. you shook your head denying it and found refuge for eyes on your feet. "you're a terrible liar."

"i don't think you know me that well anymore," you sighed and tried your best to look at him firmly. "no car today?"

"i don't indulge on those very often, apparition is still a thing, you know?" you tried your very best not to roll your eyes at the arrogance he displayed, favoring instead the idea that he had the car for the weekend to please you. "you ignored my patronus, i feel like you probably didn't even check your mail, my poor owl working over time for nothing, and you're the only witch i know who doesn't have a bloody fireplace. kinda got worried that you were mad at me." his lips formed the pout you knew so well, and you had to bite you lips to prevent yourself from smiling.

"not having the fireplace goes hand in hand with the anti-apparition charm on my apartment." you shrugged, it was a way to avoid unwanted guests, so he pretended to be the upmost offended by that. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the reasons why you were angry with him. "we need to talk."

"we can do that in your apartment. let's talk there." he nodded, and you agreed. it wasn't something to discuss so close to where you worked, for sure. he offered his arm so you would apparate together and you ignored it completely, stretching your arm to the street to get a minicab to stop for you both.

"i'm not risking magic exposure and being fired because you rarely indulge on cars, potter." weirdly enough he doesn't try to convince you otherwise, getting on the backseat with you.

on the way he told you he had been waiting for you for at least forty minutes, which you weren't sure was even true, but on any other day you would've swooned over, but his true intentions showing up came to light so quickly, you couldn't. james kept touching your thigh with his right hand slowly, teasingly, and a pantsuit was never as helpful as then, because of it you could ignore his touches or at least pretend to ignore it.

despite the touches, james maintained a casual conversation with you, talking about trivialities from his day, like forgetting to take his vitamin supplement in the morning and running less that afternoon so he could get home in time to take a shower and pick you up. at least that was the term he used, even though you were in a cab.

you enjoyed having conversations like that with him, knowing how his day had been and how he felt about the team, the training sessions... it brought a sense of normality, as if you were just an ordinary couple talking about everything or just friends talking about your lives. but at that moment, you couldn't enjoy it the way you normally would due to what still lingered on your mind from the previous night, not to mention the fact that the words coming out of his mouth sounded innocent, but his eyes and hands overflowed with nothing but.

you felt like you were under torture, the rational part of your brain competing with your emotional part, which was shaken by any touch from james, any scraps of attention. you even felt relief when you arrived at your building, especially because there were other people in the elevator, preventing him from grabbing you there and making you forget everything you so wanted to tell him. but it didn't last long. as soon as you reached your floor, you were grabbed from behind, his hands firm on your waist while his lips roamed your neck.

"james, we need to talk," you repeated what said before, freeing yourself from his arms and walking towards the door. you unlocked it with a silent charm and left the door open for him to enter next.

"talk about what?" you heard the question, but his tone showed no interest in talking. in fact, he pulls you by the arm and pushes you against the nearest wall, trapping you with his arms. you lost your breath for a few seconds due to the proximity. "we can talk later," james whispers in your ear, brushing his lips softly against yours, one of his hands touching your waist under your blouse. you almost lose it, but finds the strength to get out of his embrace and leave to the kitchen.

"i want to talk about us." you said seriously, resolute in your decision to give him an ultimatum, tired of being the mistress, but you couldn't deny that after his teasing, you just wanted to wrap your legs around his waist and hear him say your name in between moans.

"brilliant, let's talk." james begins, slowly moving closer to you. "but we could just go to your room and enjoy our time in a more pleasurable way." you feel his hands again grabbing you around the waist, and his lips brushed lightly against your ear as he detailed all the other pleasurable things he could be doing to you. you give up, defeated, letting out a grunt and pulling him to you, starting a desperate kiss as he takes off your pantsuit and leads you stumbling back to your bed.

it was late at night, almost two in the morning, when the noise woke you up, almost frightened as you had no idea what it could be at that time. your first instinct was to obviously grab your wand and go to the living room, ready to disarm or worse if it was an intruder, but you noticed that it someone knocking frantically on your door.

"who is it?" you asked loud and clear, assuming it was a stranger trying to pull some kind of scam, you've heard of cases like that happening around the muggle neighbourhoods, the knocking then stopped and you thought you had scared away whoever was there, but you were wrong.

"it's me…" the voice was familiar, but you doubted it was who the voice reminded you of, so you waited for more before you decided or not to open it. "james." you froze and held you breath, but still denying mentally that it could be him.

"james? need to be more specific."

"don't remember me anymore?" it was him, surely. james potter. you hadn't seen him since the turn of the previous year, but truthfully, you hadn't really spoken to him in years, you couldn't even imagine how in hell had he found your address. "potter."

"what you doing here?" you open the door, giving him the space he needed to enter and smelling the alcohol invading your apartment. "it's two in the morning."

"not sure…" he seemed a bit disoriented, obviously because of the alcohol, but he wasn't about to fall over drunk and you mentally thanked him for that. "was in a pub having a few, but they closed…kept thinking about you and here i am." a shiver ran through your whole body and you cussed yourself, it was pathetic how he could still cause such a thing so many years after your relationship, after your last kiss, unfortunately you had never really managed to forget him, but instead you hid him deep in your memories, that way you wouldn't have to deal with your true feelings for him when you saw each other at a mutual friend's house or anything of the sort.

but still, you did to this day found yourself thinking about him at times, but that didn't help you understand why he would be there at such a time, or why he would be thinking about you when in fact the only reason you had left his life was because of him, because if he wasn't such a dick, you might still be in a relationship today, or at least be best friends like you used to be.

"know what…" even though you haven't responded to anything he's said before, he sits down on your sofa awkwardly and you feel completely uncomfortable with the situation, crossing your arms, unable to move more than that. "i'm such a twat." james lets out a weak laugh of discontent. "letting you go that day… mum told me what happened, but I still didn't look for you." it was amazing how he could form sentences almost perfectly even though he stank of alcohol miles away.

"james, what do you want?" you sigh, still not understanding anything that's going on. he simply gets up and walks towards you, making you instinctively move away until you reach the end of the line, one of the walls of the living room. "potter?"

"i want things between us to go back to normal." his perfume takes you over as he gets closer, replacing the smell of firewhiskey, and you try not to get dizzy. "just want you." panic is your first reaction as his lips come close to yours and you push him away.

"you have a girlfriend." you look into his eyes, being as serious as possible without showing how tempted you were, making exaggerated gestures with your hands to show him how wrong it was.

"shh, forget it, just f'now. i'll fix it, swear i'll fix everything." you soften at his words and sigh, you're probably losing your mind but still you walk towards him with your arms open for a hug and he immediately finds himself taking the chance.

"missed you." your voice nothing but a whisper and james nods in response, stroking your hair.

the affectionate embrace evolves quickly into a quiet kiss that becomes more and more desperate and before you know it, you're both on the sofa, blending into one.

you woke up the next day feeling partially satisfied, but guilt consumed you entirely, you had slept with a commited guy, what kind of woman were you? and not only that… what would james and you be from then on?

"bloody hell." and there you were, waking up after given in to james' charms again, just like the first time, just like every time after that, it was frustrating how much power he held over you, you couldn't take it anymore, you were done.

tag: @xcinnamonmalfoyx

#lari writes sometimes #marauders imagine #james potter scenario #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #marauders x reader #marauders x you

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averageallogene · 9 months

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This would be quite long...

Your family lives in one of the houses around the Dawn Winery manor and you, Diluc and Kaeya grew up together. As a result, Diluc develops a kiddie crush on you.

That's why he isn't too happy when Crepus suddenly informs him that he is now engaged to Jean because Jean's mother has activated the betrothal contract between their families.

It did not take long for Jean to realize Diluc doesn't like her the same way he likes you and she gets miffed because she feels you have 'stolen' her fiancé. Her more... overzealous servants decide to take things into their own hands and make you 'go away' through 'unfortunate incidents'.

Eventually, your mother is forced to fake your death and send you to Baizhu, her distant relative in Liyue, when one of the 'unfortunate incidents' comes a little too close to killing you.

After Diluc returns from his self-exile after Crepus' death, the first thing he does is to annul the betrothal contract.

Diluc ♡⊹˚ Dandelions (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst. cw for attempt at another's life, ala drama.

2k words.

notes. Well, these definitely force me to take some liberties since the characters are ooc. Let’s just assume this is an AU of sorts alright?~ I might have to write something sweet for Jean to make up for these… Also, these are getting quite long and since I’ve got quite a few prompts waiting in my inbox… I might have to start and make them shorter :’) Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! ✧˖°.

The fresh air of the lands of the Anemo Archon had once felt liberating, crisp as they would gently rustle against the leaves of the trees and the foliage across His lands of Mondstadt. The green grass would dance in a delicate duet with the breezes Barbatos would send, blessing each and every one of his children as they would carefully whisper their dreams into his winds.

Dreams of valor, of knighthood, of happiness. Those were dreams shared between the Ragnvindr brothers, their lips carefully whispering their wishes onto the dandelions before they were blown across the skies. Such were dreams they would share with their closest friends, mainly Jean and [F/N], two young girls who would frequently visit the manor. Crepus absolutely adored watching his sons have fun with them, the smile raising onto his tired face never quite leaving as they ran across his crops, carefully as to not ruin any of the vines that supported his business.

To Diluc, however, it hadn't taken long to add another wish to his lips, this one being ushered in utter secrecy before he'd blow each dandelion. Why wouldn't he tell them, his brother Kaeya would pester him, watching with amusement how his face would become as red as his hair. Well, the eldest simply couldn't, not when [F/N] was near them, lest he want to be exposed for his growing feelings he couldn't quite explain yet. So instead, he'd come up with ways to change the subject, each time evading the momentary embarrassment his brother would bring upon him. It wasn't like Kaeya didn't know, he just liked to see his brother mutter embarrassedly far too much not to. Siblings were just like that, were they not?

Well, no matter, for [F/N] remained oblivious. She was too busy with her own little dreams, with her friends, she couldn't exactly notice the way Diluc's hand would grow sweaty each time they'd hold hands, or each time he would tremble slightly in his voice when she spoke his way. His heart would pitter patter, it was downright annoying, yet he strangely didn't want to to go away. Diluc even wondered if this was what his dad felt for his mom at one point, if this was the fabled love he'd hear in all those fairy tales he'd read. He was still far too young to fully grasp it, but at that time, all he knew was that he wished to hold [F/N]'s hand for a little longer, for her to remain close…

Those feelings had persisted, even as they went into adolescence. Diluc became a little less obvious in his infatuation, or so he thought, keeping himself seemingly cool about it as both [F/N] and Jean would still visit. By that point, the three of them had expressed wishes of joining the Knights of Favonius, their friend [F/N] being the one that simply supported them from the sidelines as she expressed her own dreams. Diluc couldn't help himself, showing curiosity for her own goals, demonstrating his utter support as he hoped to one day be privileged enough to know just what she would whisper so sweetly to the dandelions they would still blow together.

He wasn't fooling anyone, at least those closest to him, yet he truly thought he did.

Even Crepus himself knew, and he couldn't hide the heartache he felt for his son. Watching him hold such endearment in his gaze felt bittersweet. From his study he watched as they walked across his property calmly, watching silently as Diluc smiled sweetly to [F/N], the young girl laughing softly as they enjoyed each other's company. His roughened fingers caressed the letter he'd stored in one of his drawers, avoiding it like the plague until he couldn't no longer. He wished he could prolong his son's happiness, yet the way the Gunnhildr family not so gently reminded him so often of their contract definitely didn't help. It felt wrong, yet there were duties they needed to honor to avoid further disaster.

That was why, during one such sunny day, Crepus had waited for [F/N] to leave, summoning his son after. He presented him the letter, patiently waiting for him to read it all. He could see as Diluc's jaw clenched, the emotions boiling deep under the surface as he attempted his hardest to remain level headed. Crepus knew, he could see it, Diluc was downright enraged about the arrangement. Yet still, having raised his son to the best of his abilities, he could also see a sense of acceptance, his otherwise bright red eyes losing a part of its shine as it dawned on him the responsibility he held. It broke Crepus, yet he remained steadfast. It was a curt exchange, yet it was one that burnt a part of Diluc's heart to ashes.

He couldn't deny [F/N] his company. He still deeply craved for it in fact, like a moth to a flame, he gravitated towards her even when he knew he shouldn't feed into his desires. It simply felt wrong to not do so, especially so when the woman he'd grown to adore had so recently confided in him her deepest wishes. Yes, he'd finally been given the privilege of listening to her deepest yearnings, her lips carefully spelling out her dreams as they would, together, blow dandelions before watching them soar through the air. He couldn't cut her out, no matter how much his responsibility told him to. In fact, Diluc still indulged, his adolescence calling for him to riot, to fight for what he wanted even if in the subtlest of ways. And as so, he wished as he blew his own dandelion, praying his love reciprocated his feelings, praying that they found a way to be together despite all the other variables in the complex equation.

Everyone knew of Diluc's fondness of [F/N], it even growing twice or thrice in intensity after the day his arranged marriage was announced to him. Crepus did his absolute best to attempt and bring his son to reason, not wishing to brew animosity with the Gunnhildr household that grew rather insulted. To the aforementioned family's eyes, Diluc was nothing more than disrespecting their Jean by seemingly stalling the courting process, the now young woman waiting by as her soon to be fiancé openly fancied another. To them, it was humiliating, yet there seemed little that could be done to sway Diluc's feelings.

In the midst of this all, [F/N] remained somewhat oblivious. It was a little obvious she herself fancied Diluc, but unlike the man, she was much more subtle with her advances. It was endearing to watch him hesitate to come closer, to have his eyes avert her own, to whisper and giggle innocently with him as they would often escape amidst the vineyards of the Dawn Winery manor. To her, the way their fingers lingered, the way he smiled to her, the way he spoke to her… It all made her heart soar, hope building in her heart as she waited for the day Diluc would finally make a definitive move.

Instead, everything came crashing down, hitting her violently as her world was shaken to its core.

Frustration breeds impatience, impatience can birth anger, which then festers in jealousy. The Gunnhildr clan was growing tired, and Jean herself felt nothing short of humiliated. Having known for quite a while that Diluc was the one she was promised to, she waited patiently for him, all for naught as she watched from the sidelines as her 'friend' openly attempted to gain his heart. What she hadn't known, was that [F/N] already owned it, Diluc openly having given it to her as he promised to himself his heart would always belong to her. It disappointed her, outright angered her even. It wasn't long until she had servants and advisors telling her what she should consider doing, some methods being more… Radical, than others.

And whilst she festered in her own regret and rage, Jean caved in.

It had started small enough, [F/N]'s household becoming ill after the well in which they got their water had no longer been safe to drink. Poison was suspected, yet the doctors were unsure due to the common enough symptoms. Being nursed back to health, it wasn't long until [F/N] had another strike of misfortune, the woman being robbed by treasure hoarders as she made her way back to the Winery. Being held at knifepoint, the men yelled for goods she swore she didn't have. She feared for her life, before thankfully being saved by Kaeya, who practiced horse riding not far from where she'd been. It seemed out of nowhere, the road not having been one that was frequented by wealthy merchants. It was enough for his suspicions to be raised, yet again though, nothing could be proven.

It had remained as such for a while, a constant strike of misfortune following [F/N] wherever she'd gone. Having gotten sick more than once, her mother grew weary, the final straw being broken when, in the middle of the night, their home had been set ablaze with them still inside. By the blessing of Barbatos, both her and her mother had escaped unharmed. It had gotten to such a point where the tycoon himself couldn't ignore it any longer - it was clear enough that her family was being targeted, yet not much could be done from his end without proof. And in the midst of a mother's desperation, she'd come up with a plan to ensure her daughter's safety.

In the middle of the night, hiding her with a simple wool cloak, [F/N]'s mother watched, teary eyed, as she sent her daughter off to Liyue, escorted by the few men she could afford with the savings she had left. She'd been taken and killed, she would soon cry to conceal the truth, praying for her daughter's well-being as she was hauled to Liyue. No one but her knew of the truth, and needless to say, Diluc was left heartbroken, and Jean, secretly, relieved to know someone had taken care of it. Many of her subordinates claimed responsibility for dealing with the issue of course, hoping to get a piece of the reward that had been promised. Well, it didn't matter much to her. At least she no longer had to deal with her pride being hurt, nor her fiancé being taken away.

Life in Liyue was arduous, but manageable. Thankfully, [F/N] had a relative that, despite their distance in relation, was more than helpful with her situation. In truth, [F/N] hadn't even known she was related to the well known Doctor Baizhu, Teyvat truly could be small. He was more than welcoming in helping her settle in, giving her a small place in Qingce Village where he knew she would be safe from any harm. The locals loved her, practically adopting her and helping her grow accustomed to their lifestyle. Life had become hard, no longer colorful, yet [F/N] persevered.

Dandelions were hard to come by in Liyue, safe for a young merchant who would always remember to bring at least a handful back to her. One time, he'd even brought a small satchel of dandelion seeds for her to plant, witnessing the first true smile [F/N] had given them in a long, long while. Dandelions reminded her of home, of Mondstadt, of Diluc. Of all that could not be, of her dreams she had to put on hold, of the promises that Barbatos took into his winds as she carelessly wished for a blessing.

Despite being in another nation, news still traveled fairly quickly. [F/N] had known of the arranged marriage between Diluc and Jean, her heart breaking into a million pieces before she had to mend it back together by herself. She'd known of how Crepus had passed, of how Diluc consequently had disappeared without a trace. No one knew of his whereabouts, and even when she was still no longer in Mondstadt, she held him in her prayers, her last dandelion being used to pray for his well being. She watched as it flew across the skies once more, wind caressing through her hair as it would in Mondstadt.

Perhaps… Barbatos still heard her, even when she was no longer on his land. She hoped so, at least for one last time.

Diluc, in the meantime, missed her everyday. He missed [F/N] dearly, his heart never even glancing to another. It was like his very being denied the notion she'd been killed, but no matter how he tried to approach her mother regarding it, he couldn't by one way or another.

Amidst his grief with his father and his disappearance however, his connections had grown. He'd grown. He no longer was the naive young man he once was, and was determined to ensure by his own means the truth. His connections proved useful, for without much trouble, they had been able to locate a young woman that matched every bit of description he'd provided. To say he was relieved, ecstatic and hopeful, was an understatement. Yet still, he remained away for a while longer, ensuring every objective of his was met - including her safety, of course.

Jean however, had seemingly realized that whatever chance she had… Was basically gone. Without the full context, to her it seemed like Diluc had disappeared due to their engagement, and no matter how the Gunnhildr clan tried to track him down, they were unsuccessful. Kaeya seemingly didn't know anything either, and thus, they were at a stalemate.

Until, one day, Diluc turned up at her family clan's door. He was quiet, and requested to see her and her mother specifically. Jean could hardly believe it, her heart beating quickly as they stood together on the main study of the manor. She hadn't seen him in seemingly forever, and thus she waited eagerly for his first words in what had been years-

"I'm annulling the betrothal contract."

Diluc had said nothing more, his following explanations curt. Alliance be damned, he seemed to be firm on the stance. When threatened with retaliation from the Gunnhildrs, Diluc gingerly smiled, a smile that was dangerous, that sent a chill down Jean's mother's core. Casually he took from his jacket a neatly ordered folder, all the evidence he'd gathered present. Of every attempt on [F/N]'s life, each document of each confession of each of the assailants signed by themselves.

Needless to say, that had been taken care of pronto. As long as they didn't seek retribution for him choosing his own path, they needn't worry about what they had done.

Well, at least now that he knew [F/N] was alive, that is. Otherwise, Archon knows.

Diluc now walked through the paths of his now Winery, the boots crunching the grass beneath him as he gazed out to the vineyards. Melancholy now painted his features, trading places with the once happiness he felt with his friends, with his brother, with [F/N]. Oh, how he wished to linger his fingers with hers once more, how he wished to hear her voice…

An informant had returned to him earlier that day, having tracked down his lovely [F/N] that now lived a peaceful life in Qingce Village. He wanted to see her, so desperately… Yet he knew better. His very being had been the main cause of her escape, he couldn't possibly contribute to any more strife without being sure he was welcomed back to her life. The words his informant relayed to him still echoed in his mind.

"'Diluc, I just need some time', is what she said." He'd told him, his expression mirroring the slight sorrow.

Oh, how he spent hours wondering how her voice would sound saying such a phrase. With a heavy heart and a heavy sigh, Diluc turned to look up to the starry sky, reminiscing all the wonderful memories they'd made together. In his hands rested a freshly plucked dandelion, his fingers twirling it gently as he stood in silence.

The winds blew softly, as if beckoning him onward. He could feel it comb through his long hair, features softening as he took a breath. Lifting the plant to his lips, he whispered softly, nearly inaudibly.

"Allow me time… To wait for [F/N], for as long as she needs." He wished, the seeds blowing through Barbatos's winds as they disappeared into the night sky.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #yoko drabbles

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emry-stars-art · 10 months

Note

Just read the whole 'how Andreil pans out' ask and all I'm saying is that I love the idea of Andrew Courting Abram and Abram just absolutely misses that it's what is happening. Part of it is just a cultural difference, Evermore and Palmetto have different courting cultures perhaps?

Another part is that Andrew really does not act all THAT different. He's giving Abram gifts but like Andrew is always giving Abram stuff? It's not new? Yeah they had dinner together but that's just like what they......do?

Another another part is just Abram not even considering himself as someone worthy to be with Prince Andrew like that. He wasn't worthy before and after Evermore and everything I could imagine he feels even less like a person let alone a person who deserves Andrew's positive regard.

IDK I just love the idea of Abram at some point like 6 months into Andrew trying to court him seeing that behavior somewhere else, being told that's how nobility in Palmetto court others, and going to Andrew like "Have you, perchance, been trying to court me?"

Andrew setting his glass aside and looking up from where he's seated, "For 6 moons Abram, glad you've finally noticed." - @jtl-fics

jtl I. Wish. You could have seen my face as I read this, this is so hilarious and heartbreaking and lovely all in one and I’m in LOVE okay i love this so much. And we can totally make it work ahhhhh

Like yes! Yeah! Andrew’s already a gift giver, it’s just what he does as far as Abram’s concerned, and they spend so much time together that dinner isn’t strange those are perfect points. Like to the court it’s starting to become obvious - maybe in the kinds of gifts Andrew gives, or some other small things that are new, yes, but Abram has always taken these things in stride and usually his lack of judgement when Andrew tries new things or changes in little ways is a huge relief but not this time Abram PLEASE

Finally Andrew just bites the bullet and goes for a gesture that’s way more out of character and harder to mistake, which might look something like this (and thank you @leedee013 for tags about them giving each other flowers that I LOVED):

And Abram can’t really form his thoughts into words because like you said; he doesn’t think he should be allowed something like that, there’s no way he’s ever EVER going to assume that Andrew is trying to confess or clue him in to a courting like this, even if it’s in his head now

But then Lady Reynolds sees Abram later heading back to the castle/wherever he stays carrying this bouquet of carnations (fascination), narcissus (honesty/truth) and acacia (hidden love) (let’s not look too closely into these flower meanings lol, i picked the first ones I found and I’ll field all further questions with ‘artistic liberty’ 🫶) and they’re pretty close friends by now so she’s immediately like “oh my GODS Abram who gave that to you”

And Abram quietly says “the prince”

And Allison’s won like three separate bets between various other people of the court and she’s elated

But maybe she takes pity on him when she realizes exactly how clueless Abram is, so she does her best to explain everything and finally, Abram begins to allow the possibility that maybe Andrew is doing all this on purpose. But he would really rather like to be certain.

And of course I had to draw your little exchange but I did it from memory so apologies for the changes in dialogue but I love it:

ANYWAY from there, when it’s cleared up, it’s just them being dumb and sweet and grasping at straws for how to be in love and natural about it (because they’re both very private people and a good number of average/expected acts of courtship aren’t necessarily in their wheelhouse) 😭🥹 and not to add yet more hurt/comfort but Andrew is so so determined to figure out a way to assure and reassure Abram that he knows what he’s doing, yes Abram is worth it, yes he’s doing these things because he wants to. If he didn’t want to he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. And I’ll bring it back around by using my previously mentioned artistic liberty to say that yes Prince Andrew loves having his hands held/kissed (just by Abram naturally) and Abram figures this out and absolutely uses it against him. They love each other your honor

Okay anyway thank you for the ask, I’m SO lucky to have such brilliant people in my inbox 🥰

#STG I WAS SMILING SO BIG WHEN I READ IT THROUGH #yeah they probably would have very different traditions! I like that a lot!#so it’d be even funnier when Abram finally calms down and relaxes into it #and yeah they can do flowers that works fine #but he probably accidentally/as a last effort tries some traditions from his native kingdom #they’re trying so hard but it’s a little lost in translation #ships passing in the night #they’re hopeless and I love them #GOD KEVIN WOULD HAVE TO DO THE TRANSLATION OF THE DIFFERENT CUSTOMS #He wants out of it so bad but there’s literally no one else to ask 😂😭#idk if either of them would ever deign to involve or ask Kevin but now I’m laughing #anyway I need to stop or I’ll never shut up about this #thank you this is great #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #allison reynolds #royal au #asks #chibi

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allmyocsarebritish · 2 months

Text

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

#night at the museum #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #egypt #ancient egypt #history #egyptology #archaeology #natm fandom #natm fanfiction #natm fic #night at the museum fanfic #natm au #egyptian pharaoh

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