#i foolishly hoped that maybe this post would be as long as it turned out to be

[f1fanatic29]

dinner dreams - daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x f1 driver!reader [3k]

summary: after receiving a delayed invitation to sebastians retirement dinner, strange feelings arise after a run in with the infamous honey badger.

warnings:none, just bad writing lmao

a/n: first time posting on here, please me kind but also would appreciate some feedback. anyways thank you and enjoy

italics---> thoughts or exaggerated words

It wasn't often you got lost. The cool November breeze that wizzed by didn't seem to help with your lack of directions either. You couldn't remember why you decided to leave the warm hotel, thinking foolishly that you would just find your way to the restaurant eventually right? Wrong. On top of that you decided to wear the most uncomfortable thing you could, a green mini cocktail dress and the skinniest heals you've brought. 

Why you'd ever except Mick's delayed  invitation to Seb's retirement dinner , you had no clue why. After just winning your second drivers championship in a row you wouldn't expect to see you getting all dressed up again even after just spending the entire week on a bender with everyone and anyone you even semi liked. The original plans before you received the delayed  invitation was to take a nice long hot bath maybe go and order some sushi on Door dash. But a final dinner with your idol and good friend was something  you knew you just couldn't miss. 

Ah fuck this, 

 as the breeze began to pick up again. About a block away from the hotel you had been staying at for the past couple days a fancy black SUV pulls up next to you with the windows rolled down.

"You don't happen to be Y/N are you?" the driver asked. Your eyebrows furrowed as you debated answering as that question doesn't often lead to good places,"depends on who's asking?"you responded, narrowing your eyes at the mysterious driver he chuckled lightly at your expression. 

"Well I was sent to come pick you up at hotel intercontiential miss, to bring you to the dinner if I've been told correctly?" he responded, you smiled awkwardly and let out a small Oh as you opened the side door and sat down in the back.

"Um I guess you would be correct, but if you don't mind me asking sir, which one of the guys hired you tonight?" you asked curiously as the car began to move down the road.

"Sorry Miss, I was told not to disclose that information to you tonight, he said that you would probably figure it out on your own anyways"

The rest of the drive went by fairly quickly for you, as you  arrived at a hotel after only a couple minutes. The SUV drove up the road a little further as you noticed from the inside of the tinted windows a unique hotel at the top of the hill. It was mostly wooden and stone built it was odd looking compared to the rest of Monaco's modern style but has a welcoming feeling towards it, it definitely was picked by Sebastian. Going underground you assumed you were going into a parking garage as the car came to a stop in front of the underground entry.

"So this is where I leave you" the driver said unlocking the doors as you then climbed out,"I guess it is, thanks again for coming to save me..."you paused wait for him to give you his name, "Clint, and it was my pleasure Y/n, I hope you enjoy your evening"he said as you smiled and gave a quick you too as you closed the doors. 

As the SUV pulled away back up to the street, you turned and made your way inside. The inside was luminated by warm lights and dark accent walls, you made your way to the elevator at the end of the hall. As you got in a small pit of anxiety made its way into your stomach as the elevator moved upwards. You wasn't quite sure why you were suddenly so nervous, you were around these guys more than your own family for christ sake. 

It still confused you on why someone hired a driver to come get pick you up tonight, and why choose for you not to know who did it. Despite it being a kind gesture it bugged you, but you set herself a special mission for the evening, find out who hired the driver.

The elevator let out a ding as the doors opened revealing the main entrance to the hotel and the restaurant that you had finally managed to get to. You stepped out into the hallway first noticing the extremely large Christmas tree an other various Christmas decoration in the restaurant that you had finally found. 

Why the hell are there decorations up already its only the middle of November?

Before you could see him, you could definitely hear him. The boisterous laugh that anyone on the grid could recognize from a mile away. His gaze then lands on you just as he rounds the corner, his already shining smile getting brighter by the second, he picks up his pace and walks straight for you. Her heart beat picks up as she finds herself smiling just as wildly back at the Honey Badger, the one and only.

"About time you got here sweet heart" he said with that iconic Aussie accent, pulling you into a close to bone crushing hug, as you laughed loudly."Danny I think we both know I'm early" it was now him time to laugh as he continued to hold you like his life depended on it.

"I missed you" 

The innocent comment made your cheeks tinge red at the sudden unexpected seriousness from the usually goofy driver. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek as you pulled away from the tight embrace."Missed you too" you said with a warm smile now seeing the slightly surprised and happy look on the drivers face as he clears his throat as he tries to brush the blush off his face

"I gotta go help Max, I'm pretty sure he got lost down in the parking area or something,  I'll be back in a minute love" he says still staring at you but making his way towards the elevator. Just as you starts to turn around he grabs your hand and pulls you back locking his gaze with yours.

"You look beautiful tonight love, incase you didn't already know" he says holding your hand and his eyes rake you body and face carefully.

"Thank you Danny, I can always count on you to bring the fun to the party" you said fixing the collar on his brightly patterned shirt, giving him a cheeky wink. He smiled planting a light kiss on the corner of your mouth, before making his way towards the elevator as you then slowly continued down the hall with a sharp blush on your face. That pit of anxiousness from earlier had been filled with a strange other feeling that rose up to your throat, a weird a feeling you hadn't felt for someone in a long time. And you couldn't help but wonder if that made you excited or terrified, either way it was rather unexpected. 

"Hey Champ, over here!" Lewis called with his arms open wide as you made your way around the corner, picking up the pace you practically jumped into your teammates arm as his silly laugh ringed over in your ear.

"Have any trouble getting here, love?" Lewis snickered

"We're you the one who sent that driver? God Lewis I should've known" you said rolling your eyes with a slight sense of disappointment."No sadly, but I know who did" he said with a snicker as you got pulled into a hug by the main man of the evening.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you could make it tonight. I'm sorry for the late invited, I just guessed you'd have other festivities going on this evening that you'd rather attend." Seb said with his classic gentle smile."Oh Seb, that's non sense there's no other place I'd rather be than here tonight. Thank you for including me, it means a lot". He just gave you a reassuring squeeze on your arm as he was pulled away by Mick to greet more of the incoming drivers. The rest of the grid slowly started to pour into the lobby, as for you, you migrated to George and Alex who were now pestering you on your new two time champion status, aka your lack of arm candy.

"Oh come on Y/N/N, just spill the beans! It's your second world championship and you're telling me you still haven't got a date to the Gala, mate I'm sorry but I don't believe a word." Alex said shaking his head in disbelief. "Mate see the writing on the wall! She's definitely got a date she just to scared to share it because it's probably some unworthy chap! Look she's even blushing Alex!"You just shook her head in response to the two Williams drivers as you hoped they would drop the un-entertaining conversation on your love life. 

Just as you began to zone out again as the two continued to bicker on if you did or didn't have a date yet, a knowing arm slide its way across your shoulder as you instantly knew who had joined the group."Ah sorry to interrupt the harassment but I just wanted to say hi to MY best friend and give HER a hug" Lando says glaring his eyes at Alex and George as the Mclaren driver pulled you into a tight embrace. 

"Hi Little Landi, how are you doing tonight." you said stepping back from the brunette."Not bad, I hope these two muppets haven't been bugging you for too long. They ever get too much just remind them they drive for Williams." he says with a smirk, you burst out laughing just seeing Alex and Georges face drop at the slightest mention of their current teams standing. 

"Ah excuse me Muppet, I'd like a moment to say hi the our two time champion here, you've had your time" Carlos said pulling Lando away and then pulling you into another hug."Wow I guess it's a hugging kinda night,  isn't it Chili" you said hugging the Smooth Operator back letting out a chuckle."Well, it's not every day you see all of us together outside of a race weekend right?" the local Monegasque quipped, pulling you into a side hug. 

"I just wanted to say congrats Y/n, you were amazing this season, really" he said smiling brightly at you. "But I will say, with the new Ferrari upgrades for next season, it won't be so easy" he said with a wink as the rest of the listening drivers groan, you let out a breathy laugh."Yeah yeah Charlie, you keep saying that from my rear view mirror, eh?" 

_______________________________________________________

"So, when are you gonna tell me what is going on between you and Daniel?" Lando whispered into your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Lando, what are you on about mate? Nothings going on with us ok. Maybe we had a small run in earlier that's it" you said trying to cover your blush as the moment earlier with the Aussie earlier replayed your head.

"Well the muppet has been making hearts eyes at you the entire time I've seen him over there with Alonso, so clearly it wasn't nothing to him." He said to her with a raised brow. You glanced up looking towards the Daniel and the Spaniard as you instantly caught his eye. Surprising to you, he didn't look away he just continued to gaze into your eyes with that infamous glowing smile.

Caught you looking, didn't I?

It was a bit of a struggle to get all 20 drivers into the private room on the second floor, as Seb has requested for the evening, but you all managed to figure it out. It was a busy moment to get everyone seated as no one could hear a thing amongst all the chatter going on. You being one of the first sat down choose a seat towards the end of the table, having already been in the middle of enough chaos for the evening you were hoping  for quieter place at the table. But also secretly pray you'd manage to be at least able to see the Aussie from your position. Turns out, you have to be careful what you wish for. 

"Enchante, mademoiselle. Uh is this seat taken?" The Australian said with a terrible mock French  accent. But non the less it making you laugh which was the entire point.

"You know I was just hoping that I would get a calm spot at the table tonight, but I guess not anymore." you said sarcastically with a smirk."Oh shoot sorry, I'll move, you probably don't wanna be hearing anymore of my blabbing, I'll-" you grabbed his hand cutting him off.

"Dan, I was just kidding, I'd love for you to sit with me." You said still holding his hand in your small grasp. He didn't reply he just looked at you in awe?  Sorta gasping like a fish out of water, cute. Snapping out of his trance he clears his throat and sits down next to you as Lando squeezes onto your other side as the rest of the grid begin to settle into their places.

The dinner went by surprisingly smoothly, despite the extraneous time it took for all the drivers to make a decision on what to order. Many different conversations poured out all across the table as there was never a dull moment. Shockingly none being racing related, as an unspoken rule of the night was to talk about anything other than work to each other since they did that enough. But rather talk about each others families, friends, Christmas plans or an other plans during their next couple of months off, it felt strange but oddly very nice. 

As Lando and Charles talked about dates that they could to some possible streaming over the winter break. Yuki, Pierre and Daniel talked about some funny memories from the past couple of season, you sat there quietly just observing the many different conversations across the table, just sorta taking in the moment.

It was strange. That these are the people that you are the most competitive within the world and here they all were sitting talking, having a meal together. The crashes, the battling, the rivalries, all left out on the track. It made you smile, the thought that all these amazing people were able to share this one in a life time dinner and that this would be the last time you'd ever be with the same 20 people, ever again.

"Hey, you doing ok? You kinda just zoned out there." Daniel asked with a worried gaze."Yeah I'm good, just taking a break from the small talk." you replied almost nervously, taking a look back around the table seeing only smiles all around.

"Do you wanna come get some air with me, it's gotten pretty hot in here." Daniel said sitting up extending his hand out to you. You nodded in response getting up from your seat, yet no one noticing the departure of you two as you walked away from the table quietly.

Walking out onto the balcony, it felt warmer than it did previously in the night. The couple flutes of champagne must have been acting as you jacket for the evening as you could being to feel a small blush on her cheeks arise from the alcohol, or maybe for other reasons. Noticing that you and Daniel were still holding hands, you pretended not to notice as you looked out at the Harbour as the moon reflected off the water. Strange nervousness washing over you. It was weird you had never felt the slightest bit nervous around Danny despite all the years you had known each other. A small shiver running down your body.

"Here love, take my jacket."He had it off his back and onto yours before you could ever protest, you let out a small thank you as you both lean on the railing, admiring the view.

"Hey I totally forgot to ask, did you get here ok? Hopefully had no problems?" Danny said with a smirk as he leaned closer to you. Pulling away slightly looking at the satisfied look on his face, you try your hardest not to start smiling at him as hard as you wanted to.

"You're such an asshole" you say halt heartedly as you punch his arm, he starts to double over laughing, his contagious laugh making you laugh as well. The two of you giggle for quite some time before finally calming down as you wiped the stray tears from your eyes.

"Why?" you asked still trying to suppress your giggles from earlier, a few slipping out."Why what?" he asked with the proud smile still on his face."Why did you hire the driver Danny?", facing your body towards him.

"Well I first kinda guess that Mick would forget to  send you the address. Second I knew if I came to pick you up, which was my initial plan, I would've torn that dress right off you in the lobby." 

You weren't quite sure how long you remained silent for, trying to process what he just said, or even trying to tell if you were dreaming or not. The feeling in your stomach that you had been feeling all night, just grew right into your heart and felt more like a bursting flame overcoming your entire body. Yet you were frozen, the man you had found attractive for years now that you had assumed was totally out of your league just said that to your face. You had no idea how to respond.

"Ah fuck I totally fucked this up didn't I? Ah God, nice going Riccardo you bloody-" your lips were on his in milliseconds cutting him right off. You didn't even think, your body just moving on instinct. 

Finally regaining his senses he began to kiss you back with just as much intensity. Pulling you snug against his chest by your waist, tilting your head to the side by your chin trying to deepen the kiss even further if possible. Grasping at the curls on the back of his head trying to keep your balance on your unsteady heals, he let out a small groan. You both pull away as your body finally had run out of oxygen. Resting both your heads on each others as you stare into each others eyes with wild smiles, panting as you both shake with excitement and passion.

"Well, its about time you kissed me" he said with that cheeky grin.

"Had to find some way to shut you up" His boisterous laugh filling the otherwise quiet November night. The regret of excepting the delayed  invitation from earlier, no where found in your mind.

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I will probably be doing some other fics for other drivers on here as well soon, so stay tuned for that. thank you for reading, please lmk if you have any feedback or suggestions!

#Daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel ricciardo #f1 fanfics #f1fanatic29 #Danny ric x reader #Daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x female!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1

[madame-wilsonn]

Hold me, love me, touch me

(Be the first who ever did)

MASTERLIST

Request: "it’s breaking my heart to see you like this" - maybe for Tommy? — @thesoldiersminute​

Summary: If you hold me without hurting me / You’ll be the first who ever did 

or: after running away from Grace’s funeral, Tommy finds some comfort in your arms

A/N: this is veryyyy different to what I usually post but i’ve had this idea for so long!! It’s inspired by a few scenes from the show as well as a few LDR songs. I would just like to add this quote from California because it fits the story well:

You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are When you're lying in my arms, baby You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace Or faster than my fastest cars

Also big big big thank you to my pal @hauntedheathcliff​ and my bg @huntingingoodwill for helping me out, i don’t think i would have finished and posted it if they weren’t here!! this is the first very long one shot i post, I hope you all enjoy because i’ve been working really hard on this and i think i got too attached to it oops…anyway have fun!! <3

Warnings: mentions of death, war and just angst overall; a bit of fluff (old habits die hard)

Word count: 6,464 words

Thunder rumbled. Its echo reverberating on the tall trees.

Tommy could almost hear it.

The grieving sky screaming. The leaves whispering. Murmuring the same haunting chant over and over.

She’s dead. He killed her. She’s dead. He killed her.

His vision blurred. For an instant, he thought he was finally crying until he noticed the rain. It was raining.

A drop. Then another. And another. And another.

The tears rolling down Tommy’s peaked cap turned into weeping. The sky wailed its pain, crying the tears the widowed man didn’t have.

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Was he so broken even the death of his wife wouldn’t affect him?

The man brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey to his lips. The golden liquid cast a gentle warmth on his entire being. Tommy welcomed it, only wincing as the taste burnt his lips.

At least he could still feel that.

The reason he couldn’t cry for his late wife, he knew it.

That very reason made him cower with shame. Run away from her mourning family. Hide from his own son who, only aged two, reminded him so much of her.

But how could he cry for a woman he had never been in love with?

He swallowed another sip.

No matter how many times he had foolishly tried to convince himself, he was never in love.

He cared for her. He was loyal. He was devoted.

But never in love.

No, his heart belonged to another.

He chugged at the bottle, drinking until he couldn’t breathe and his head felt dizzy.

He closed his eyes, the heavy rain making him shiver.

Her image, engraved on his eyelids, shook his heart. She had always been aware of it. There was a distance, a wall between them. He didn’t look at her the way she wanted him to— no spark, no tenderness in his gaze. They shared a house and a family but that’s all they would ever have.

If Tommy married Grace, despite her betrayal, it was only to do right by her.

And he never regretted it.

Thomas Shelby wasn’t a man of many regrets.

He was a man of guilt.

Marrying a woman he didn’t love to preserve her reputation— to protect her— just to get her killed instead.

That was all him.

He stared blankly at his hands, an empty chuckle leaving his lips.

Those hands. Dripping with innocent blood.

So much blood.

Blood on her porcelain skin. Blood on her powder pink dress. Blood on his pristine white shirt. Blood. Everywhere.

And it was all his fault.

Gulp.

If there was one thing worse than being responsible for Grace's death, it was the shame he felt.

Even dead, he couldn’t give her what she desired. He couldn’t mourn for her the way everyone expected him to. His heart couldn’t break for her the way it should because it never belonged to her in the first place.

Gulp.

His son was going to grow up without his mother. Tommy knew how that felt. It was the last thing he wished for Charlie. To grow up the way he did.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

The last drop of ember liquid slid down his throat and Tommy stared at the clear glass. There was no consolation. No rest for him. Not here. And certainly not at the bottom of that bottle.

He got up suddenly, stumbling through the large field into his car. Glancing at his pallid face in the rearview mirror, he sighed.

There was only one place Tommy could hope to find comfort tonight.

A soft knock on the door tore you from your thoughts. A swift glance at the clock pointed to the late hour as you slipped your robe on. You crossed your apartment warily, wondering who could visit in the middle of the night. Who could be brave— or stupid enough to defy the pouring rain outside?

You opened the door slowly, your heart pounding in apprehension.

“Tommy?” You opened the door slowly, heart pounding in apprehension. “Gosh, Tom, you must be freezing! A-are you okay?” you quickly ushered him inside.

Grabbing his coat and cap, you handed him a dry towel.

You hadn’t seen him since the morning, at the funeral. He left after his speech, handing Charlie to Polly and taking his car.

His brothers spent hours searching for him but it was useless. If Thomas Shelby decided he didn’t want to be found, then nobody would.

You hesitated for a moment. Maybe you should warn Polly or Ada, tell them he was with you.

Instead, you brought a comforting hand to his soaked arm. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“No, it’s alright. I…I don’t even know why I came here,” he slurred, his eyes darting around— always avoiding you.

Guiding him towards the sofa, you managed to get a better look at him.

To say he seemed tired was a euphemism. His eyes lacked their usual spark and his skin had a sick, grayish tone. He had aged twenty years in about a week.

Your heart clenched in your chest as the memory of the young man he used to be appeared. His clear laugh rang out somewhere in your mind and you thought about the long nights spent with the other. Up there, on the roof of some abandoned factory, dreaming of a gilded future.

“Do you think you can get up? My brother left some clothes here, you could change into something dry.”

Tommy took a cigarette out from the pocket of his black jacket. You observed him, watching the same ritual you’ve witnessed countless times. The cigarette between his lips, he muttered “It’s fine,” before inhaling the smoke. “I should go anyway. Shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night. ‘M sorry.”

Your hand reached for his. “No. You’re not going anywhere, Tom.”

He observed you as he felt your thumb running against his skin. Such a simple gesture yet it took Tommy a moment to recognize the small display of affection.

Your touch sent shivers down his spine, different from the ones he felt because of the cold— enjoyable. He decided to focus on the warmth emanating from your hand, sitting back down.

He wondered when was the last time someone had been so tender with him. The last time touch didn’t rhyme with broken bones and bruises. The last time he seemed important enough to be handled with care and gentleness.

“Hey,” you announced softly, taking a seat next to Tommy. “How’s your arm doing?”

He took a swig straight out of the bottle of champagne. You instantly recognized the “gift” offered by Grace as he handed it to you. “Feels like it's been shot,” he shrugged, his gaze fixed on his passed-out brothers.

Sighing, you swallowed some of the bubbly liquid again. Even though a part of you was thrilled to see the blonde barmaid gone— you had been wishing for that ever since she stepped into town— seeing Tommy so heartbroken snatched the joy away.

To your dismay, her arrival in Small Heath brought back parts of him you thought were lost in some deserted french field. It shattered your heart to see his smile, the somehow sparkling eyes, the lightness in his demeanor every time—and only when she was around. 

And yet, if it meant him being happy again, then you could deal with the disappointment and the jealousy and the yearning. You could handle watching his joy from afar. Even if you weren’t the reason behind his smile, even if you weren’t part of it. You just wanted him to be happy.

But it was all a lie.

Who would have thought it was merely a scheme?

Probably the oldest one in the book— to get close to the man in charge and trick him into handing the information on a silver platter. No one suspected her. Not even Polly.

She had managed to fool all of you, the same way you’d fool a child into drinking some nasty medicine.

“And you?” you finally ask, turning your head to observe Tommy. “How are you?”

You noticed the clench in his jaw, the pause—a fraction of a second too long before answering “Good.”

"Really good or ‘just leave me alone’ good?”

He grabbed the bottle from your hands, staying quiet and you took this as a sign to ask again. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

One of the things Tommy cherished the most in your relationship was his ability to be honest with you. You seemed to understand, or at least accept what others qualified as flaws. He knew he could ask you to go away if he wanted to without upsetting you. It comforted him in some way. 

But then, the thought of you leaving made his heart clench painfully in his chest. The swirl of emotions was too much. Too much for him to deal with alone.

His hand searched for yours, squeezing it gently. The words didn’t need to be uttered. You sat closer to him and for some reason Tommy couldn’t understand, his head rested on your shoulder.

It wasn’t calculated. He didn’t even think of it.

One minute he was carrying his heavy heart alone. The next, you stood by him and lifted some of the burden away.

Your fingers made their way to the shaved part of his head and Tommy closed his eyes. He could forget about everything. Forget about the throbbing pain in his arm. Forget about Danny Whizzbang. Forget about her.

He could just lean on you for a little bit. Focus on the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. Let the faint scent of aldehydes wrapped in roses suffocate the demons in his mind.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, Tom,” you whispered after a moment of silence.

He scoffed and you brought your hands to his face, lifting his head from your shoulder. “I’m serious,” the fierce look in your eyes confirmed your words. “It could have happened to any of us. And you’ve been through so much. You wanted to believe you could finally allow yourself some peace,” your thumbs ran across his cheekbones. “It was with the wrong person but you still deserve it. You deserve good things.”

Tommy stared at you, almost bewildered. How could you say those words to him— and believe them when you knew what he was? He wondered if your friendship affected your judgment. Made you less able to separate the man he was from the memories you had with him.

As if you had been reading through his mind, you interrupted his ruminations. “I know you’ve convinced yourself you were all bad and evil but you’re wrong. The voices in your head are wrong. There is still good in you, Tom. I know there is, I can see it,” your hand slid from his cheek, dropping to his heart. “Right here.”

Tommy could only observe you. The determination in your voice, the earnestness in your eyes, you were convinced with your own speech. So much that a part of him began to trust you.

You smiled softly at him and he swore he felt his heart miss a beat. “You’re going to meet a nice girl. And she’ll be funny and sweet. And she’ll probably have the patience of a saint to deal with your stubborn arse.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remark. “But she’ll love you more than anything else and she’ll be lucky because you’ll love her just the same.”

And while Tommy listened intently, the only thing he could think about was you.

Everything you described. Everything you said.

You. You. You.

It was you.

Tommy pressed his palms against his eyes until light dots appeared in his vision. He was beyond exhausted. His head, his arms, his legs ached. His entire body was begging him to surrender. Wave the white flag and give up.

He didn’t know how many battles he could still fight. How many blows he could still stomach. How many times his heart could still be torn apart and keep going.

If all of this was extra, why did it hurt so much?

“I called Polly,” you cut Tommy’s train of thoughts, entering the living room. “Charlie’s alright, he’s asleep now. She is staying at Arrow House with Ada.”

Tommy sighed, his gaze fixed on his trembling fingers. You observed him quietly, noticing the habit he had when something bothered him. He kept clenching his jaw anxiously. To the point you worried he might dislocate it.

Trying to catch his attention, you cleared your throat. Once. Twice.

And realizing he was far too gone into his own mind, you lightly touched his shoulder.

“You should get some rest. You’re tired.”

“I’m alright,” the response was short. Cold.

Anyone else would have backed down. Apologized, even. But you sat next to him, your concern only growing and decided to ask, “When was the last time you slept, hm?”

The dead silence that followed said it all.

You shook your head, a desperate sigh filling the quiet room with your worry.

“I wish there was something I could do,” your fingers brushed against his damp hair. “It’s breaking my heart to see you like this, Tom”

He stared at you, feeling your breath tickling his cheeks— the soft summer breeze embracing him after a hot, straining day.

And something in the air shifted.

Maybe it was the comfort Tommy found in your eyes. Maybe it was the way his heartbeat seemed to chant your name. Maybe he just wanted to.

But he leaned in.

His lips caressed yours, almost timidly before he moved closer. He was kissing you. The dwindling ember ablaze at the sweet taste of your lips mixed with whiskey and tobacco. A precious nectar Tommy knew he could never live without now that he had tasted it.

It seemed to be the only way to bring air into his lungs. Yet somehow, he felt breathless at the same time.

The feeling of his lips— so strangely soft made you dizzy. Your brain didn’t seem to work properly as you kissed him back. Tommy. Kissing you.

You almost giggled, a warm rush spreading in your chest and your head and everywhere in your body.

The only thing keeping you from bursting in flames was the cold. From his hands. His shirt. His hair twirling around your fingers.

You relished it. Cherished his calloused skin against yours. The dazzled lightness in the air.

At that moment, you were no more than a simple woman. And he was a simple man. Kissing you so passionately in the faint twilight.

Your hand touched his, grazing the golden band on his finger and you felt the bubble around you explode.

You weren’t a simple woman. He was far from a simple man.

You pushed him away, regretfully. Your body was almost leaning in again, craving more of the electricity skipping through your veins.

You wanted to be his. And him to be yours.

But not like this.

You knew Tommy like you knew your way back home. He couldn’t address his grief properly. He had never really learned, even after years of practice. The only thing he was used to was taking the pain away, no matter how. No matter the consequences he’d have to face.

And you were well aware of that.

Tommy wasn’t kissing you out of love or even out of desire. He was kissing you to feel better. You couldn’t let that happen. Not to him. Certainly not to you.

But the look he gave you as he realized what you had done made you want to throw it all away.

To hell with morals and honorable principles!

Who needed that when you could kiss him over and over again? When all you had to care about was his heart pounding against your palm, raindrops cooling down your flushed cheeks.

“Tom…” you resigned yourself.

No, you couldn’t just throw it all away. He was mourning his dead wife and he was in pain. You couldn’t take advantage of that.

His hand left your waist as if it had burnt him and guilt soon replaced the gentle warmth in your chest. But it was for the best.

At least, you tried to convince yourself it was.

The terrible humiliation was nothing compared to the regret he’d feel as the sunlight cleared his mind. He couldn’t realize it now. Too intoxicated, protected by the moon’s sheltering shimmer.

You had to keep your composure. Don’t let yourself be fooled by the comforting embrace. It was all an illusion. Giving in meant feeding the sliver of desire you tried so hard to contain.

You couldn’t live off some false hope.

You couldn’t risk your own sanity just so he could choose her.

Not again.

Running through the empty halls of the company, heart pounding in your chest with worry, you prayed.

Please let him be there. Please make sure he’s safe. Please. Please. Please.

Your heels hit the hardwood floor, each step resonating through the halls of the empty building. Out of breath, you almost fell to the ground when the engraved glass doors appeared in front of you— at last, liberation.

You pushed them open, not paying attention to the sound of the slamming doors. A relieved sigh left your lips, your gaze falling on him.

In his armchair, almost asleep, Tommy didn’t budge at the noise. He lazily opened one eye, observing your disheveled hair, how breathless you were. Sitting up, questions bubbling in his chest, he opened his mouth but you interrupted him before he could say a word.

“Where the fuck have you been, eh?” you yelled, walking into the office. Tommy left his chair, carefully joining you in the middle of the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He only stared at you, waiting for the anger to settle down. He realized how worried you must have been, how terrified it was to not find him after he left so suddenly. But he could only feel relief.

Two hours ago, he was kneeling in front of a grave, waiting to be shot. And now, he was with you, getting a well-deserved earful for disappearing.

Tommy had probably never been this happy to get yelled at.

“…And nobody knew where the fuck you were! And then there were shots and we were all running around, even got my new shoes ruined!” you rambled, your hands waving around. “Arthur told me it was over but I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere, even asked that posh girl who looked after your horse! And I swear to God, someday I will put a leash on you! Disappearing like that! I-“ You stopped abruptly, your expression changing as you noticed the bright red staining Tommy’s temple “You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding? What…”

“I’m okay,” he replied softly, feeling a change in the air. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching for the injury.

“What happened to you?” You whispered, your voice higher than before.

Thomas’s hand wrapped yours and he smiled, trying to reassure you. “I survived, Y/N. I’m alive.”

Your lips wobbled, eyes watering and your anger wafted away, replaced by a gut-wrenching worry.

The words he uttered to you at the races before he left took on their full meaning. You couldn’t realize it at the time but the way he looked at you, the way he kissed your temple and promised to come back.

It had felt a little too familiar but you couldn’t remember why.

He was saying goodbye, that’s why. He promised something he wasn’t sure he would keep just to assure your peace of mind.

Suddenly, you were back on the train platform, watching him walk away to a most certain death, completely powerless.

You almost lost him today. Again.

He was gone but then he came back.

Maybe there was a reason. Maybe you were granted a second chance after letting the first one go. Who knew if you would get another?

You couldn’t waste it.

You couldn’t let your last chance slip through your fingers.

You couldn’t risk losing him.

Not without him knowing about your feelings.

“Tommy, I…”

His arms wrapped around your waist stopped the words on the tip of your tongue. He held you close, so close his heart beat right over your ear. One gentle kiss on your temple. His fingers threading through your hair, you closed your eyes.

“I’ll buy you new shoes. I’ll buy you all the shoes you wish for. Even hire a cobbler just for you,” he whispered, tightening his embrace.

“Forget about the shoes…” you started, trying to find the right words.

But what could you say?

Nothing seemed enough. All so insignificant compared to the love you carried like a cherished picture in a locket— always close to your heart.

“I have to tell you something,” he interrupted, a soft smile brightening his expression. “I’m going to be a father.”

“What?” you asked, leaning back.

“Grace’s pregnant with my baby. I’m going to marry her and we’ll raise him together.”

And the world seemed to crumble around you.

Who knew a sentence as simple as this could have the same effect as a thousand cuts?

You could only stare at him, your mind playing the words over and over again— a broken record you were doomed to endure for the rest of your days.

Your eyes burnt with bitter tears attempting to escape their prison. A million questions rushed through your brains, striking each other until nothing made sense.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her.

You would find another way. Raise the child yourself if you had to. But not her.

He couldn’t fall for her again. You had to talk him out of it. Reason with him.

You couldn’t lose him like this.

“Y/N?”

You focused your attention back on Tommy, noticing the frown forming between his brows.

He expected your answer. Hell, his decision probably depended on your next words. But the idea of a baby…

He had given up on that.

The dreams of a happy, somewhat normal life had been buried in the tunnels. Covered in mud. Lying next to the decaying bodies of his comrades.

And now, it was so close to him. He could reach through the mud and get this life back. He could try to leave the war behind. Let a new life forgive all the lost ones.

Let the flowers grow over the old tunnels.

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you couldn’t ruin that for him. He went through enough. He deserved some rest.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be, he would always be above all foolish sentiments.

A forced, poorly attempted smile made its way on your face— locking the tears away.

“I’m just…I’m so happy for you,” your voice broke as relief washed over his tired features. He hugged you again, chuckling. “You’re going to be a wonderful father,” there was no hesitation. Only the truth.

“And you’ll be an even more wonderful aunt,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing your back. “Don’t tell Ada I said this.”

You clutched his jacket in your hands, biting your lips hard enough a faint metallic taste covered the bile in your mouth.

The familiar feeling was here again. An impression of déjà-vu. Back on the train platform. Watching him leave.

But this time, he wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, we can’t…” but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen to whatever excuse you had.

The only thing worse than being rejected by you would probably be hearing you say the words.

I don’t love you, Tommy.

No. It would be the fatal blow. He wasn’t ready for that.

He got up, the alcohol in his blood seemingly gone— deserting, leaving him powerless.

“Tommy, please”

You kept saying his name like it mattered. Like it would change anything.

Shaking his head, he pulled his arm away.

Nothing could mend the raw rip, tearing his heart in half.

It made no sense to him. He was convinced there had been something.

You.

You who stood by him through everything.

You were the only constant.

Your relationship, his only haven— the solid deck on vicious waters.

Never breaking. Never busting.

What would he do if the deck shattered?

Tommy didn’t have the answer to that question. He didn’t want to know.

The cold pit in his stomach as you leaned back was enough to make him leave. He couldn’t bear looking you in the eyes, terrified of what he’d find there.

He had to go.

You followed him through your apartment, calling his name. He wasn’t going anywhere, you wouldn’t allow it. Passing the door meant giving up on your friendship.

It couldn’t end this way.

“Tom, listen to me,” you pleaded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” struggling to find your words, you felt the lump in your throat growing until you were suffocating. “Please, don’t go. You can’t go now, you can’t.”

He grabbed his jacket. The sound of your voice withering almost made him stay. Force a smile on. Tell you it was alright.

No matter how hardened he grew with the years, he never could stand you crying. Ever since the day he met you.  

You had scratched your knee on the dingy pavement and he carried you on his back. He even stole a chocolate bar to console you— the little girl with braids and the sweetest laugh his ears were blessed to hear.

He swore he’d do anything to bring the smile back on your face. Engrave the lightness it carried in his heart.

You would know no woe. No grief.

Not as long as you had him.

You clenched your jaw, desperate tears starting to roll down your cheeks. Deep down, you knew your choice was the best but the sight of him leaving—even worse, hating you, made you sick.

“Tommy,” your voice broke,  “Please, you can’t leave now. Please…,” one last wretched attempt to get him to stay.

Time began to flow so slowly you could swear it stopped.

The clock didn’t tick. The fire in the hearth didn’t crack. The wind didn’t blow.

The world around you held its breath. Waiting. Carefully listening to your beating heart. Pounding against your ribcage. Each thump edging you to the forlorn void of despair.

But if there was one promise Tommy wouldn’t break, it was the one he made to the little girl with her braids and her scratched knee.

His greatest weakness.

You.

Fingers freezing on the doorknob, Tommy listened to your quiet sniffles. He bit his tongue, feeling the guilty grip around his heart.

The moment of hesitation— only a few seconds but it was enough time to put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” your forehead rested against his as you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. “But we can’t do this,” Tommy clenched his jaw, his shoulders slouching in apprehension. “You’re only doing this to feel better and I wish I could help you, I do. But I won’t let you wreck everything just to regret it tomorrow and probably the days after…because you love her.”

A trembling breath left your lips. “You're in love with Grace and you’re mourning and…”

“What?”

Tommy pushed you away, deep creases forming on his forehead. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Tom…”

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that, eh?” confusion in his voice turning into venom, the lack of sleep grinding his nerves.

“Y-You love her. You love Grace, she was your wife and I’m sorry if…”

“Is that what you think?” he spat out as your hands reached for him again.

The fatal blow.

Unexpected. Sharp. Lethal.

“What do you mean?” you stared at him, puzzled at his brusque reaction. “Grace was…”

“Stop saying her fucking name!” he snapped, eyes maddened by his own anguish.

The mere sound of her name was enough to stir the guilt overtaking his body— stabbing the same bleeding wound over and over.  

You stood before him, not knowing how to act.

Tommy rarely lost his cool. He always had the upper hand over his own emotions. You were used to that. You had learnt to deal with his seemingly unshakable façade.

This was different.

“Is that what you think, hm?” he repeated, cutting the stunned silence reigning “You think I was in love with her?”

You had no idea what to reply. You couldn’t grasp the reason behind his outburst. His anger and his hurt were part of a puzzle missing its central piece.

Twisting his words in your mind, you tried to find a clue— anything to help you understand. The accumulation of distressing events was the most obvious answer but it still didn’t explain everything.

“Tom, I don’t understand, I…” you finally admitted, powerless faced with his own torment.

Your confession made him scoff. Tommy’s chest heaved and he clenched his jaw, biting back the words burning his tongue.

The turmoil of emotion began to overwhelm him and he knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, words would flow uncontrollably. The wise decision was to walk away.

Walk away and blame the concerning amount of whiskey in his blood the next day.

Just walk away.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Of course.

The heavy lump in Tommy’s throat seemed to explode, spreading its vehement poison across his body.

“I was never in love with Grace.” he spun around, facing your defeated expression “I was never in love with her because I’ve always loved you. You.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t say anything. But Tommy didn’t expect you to. “She was the mother of my son and I cared about her but the way I love you… You are the only woman that ever mattered and without you…” his voice broke, eyes watering.

The wave of emotion washed over him with such intensity, air barely reached his lungs.

Drowning.

He felt like he was drowning. Condemned in a tormented sea. Desperately gasping for air yet only allowing more water in.

Tommy considered the idea of forsaking— let the water burn his throat, churn at his insides as long as he could rest. As long as his soul didn’t ache.

But at the very last second, he felt hands pulling him out.

You embraced him, arms tightly knit around his neck, his head resting against your shoulder. Tommy closed his eyes, treasuring the small moment of peace granted to him.

Feeling the strength in his body failing, you guided your bodies to the carpeted floor. His arms tightened around you and you sighed.

His confession had been everything you ever wanted to hear and you desperately wanted to believe him. Craved to whisper those same words back.

But could you trust the words of a man so inebriated he would probably not remember by the morning?

“It was all an illusion”, you reminded yourself.

Tommy, your friend, may have been the man you loved but he was also a widower. Maybe it made no sense to act this way and maybe you should believe him because why else would he say this?

But it was unfair to expect him to “make sense” after what happened to him.

He needed comfort. He needed to stop being the man in charge, the “always standing” one. He needed you to be his friend.

Only that.

Your hands rubbed his back soothingly and you kissed the side of his head, chasing the voice in your head begging you to give in.

For now, you’d have to content yourself with that.

A gentle embrace, mending the scattered pieces of his heart in the dark hall. Tommy couldn’t let go. Your arms provided the solace he longed for—the lifebelt keeping him afloat.

And as you held him, he could only think about the time. The time he lost. The time he could have had.

If only he had said something…

The train platform turned into a sea of teary goodbyes, children escaping their mother’s grasp and boys, men— soldiers, leaving for France.

Clutching Tommy’s army jacket in your hand, you felt his fingers brushing the tears on your cheeks.

“Come on, sweetheart, you know I hate seeing you cry,” he attempted a soft smile.

“Then don’t leave us.”

And he knew he would. He would do anything if it dried your tears and erased the sad pout on your face.

“Please, just one smile. I want to see you smile.”

In case it was the last time.

Tommy searched through his pockets, waving a bright blue box in front of you. “Now you can’t cry anymore,” he muttered with a sly smirk.

You stared at the chocolate bar and couldn’t help the grin making its way through your tears. You swung your arms around his neck, cutting his breath short as you hugged him.

Tommy returned the embrace, closing his eyes.

He could never open them again and stay with you. He wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Just stay. Thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you and love you. He could just stay.

Neither of you wanted to let go. You were pretty sure neither of you could.

As long as you had him. As long as he had you. Nothing could reach you. Nothing could hurt you. If only you held onto each other tighter.

But a loud, piercing whistle resonated through the station, breaking the tender embrace. Tommy took a moment to admire you. Gentle features and radiant smile. That’s how he wanted to remember you. His thumbs reached under your eyes. No tears.

Not today. Not ever.

He wasn’t sure he could keep standing there as you cried and not cry himself. Blinking away, his jaw clenched, he let his fingers trail down your cheek.

His touch was so soft, so light—like feathers tickling your skin— it almost made you forget why he was leaving.

You tried to smile, even as a few rebellious tears tried to escape.

Oh, my darling Y/N...

And he thought he might finally admit it. Confess right here on the noisy train platform. Whisper the words into your ear and make you promise you’ll wait for him.

He was already walking towards death, he might as well free himself of the secret he kept for so long— the same way a condemned man would.

“Tommy?”

He focused his attention on you, the delicately embroidered handkerchief close to your nose. Your eyes reddened with tears, cheeks still damp.

Yes, he could say it.

But what if he didn’t come back?

What if he told you he loved you and died in some french field? What if the only thing you got back from him was a box of his belongings and nothing else?

“I…I just…” You wouldn't handle it. You were already terrified of what would happen, he couldn’t add to that some foolish confession just to feel better. 

He couldn’t risk it. 

“I’ll miss you. Take care, yeah?” he leaned in, kissing your temple.

“Come on, Tom! We’re gonna be late,” Arthur’s deep voice urged him.

“I’ll write to you all the time,” you promised, your hand reaching for his.

Tommy didn’t let go, holding your fingers until he was too far. He stepped onto the train, his eyes always set on yours.

One last glance. One last smile.

And he was gone.

Arthur and John found a compartment where they set their bags, greeting other soldiers. But Tommy wasn’t paying attention.

He had a chance. He could have said it.

No. No, it would have been too selfish to blurt it out and leave. He wanted to tell you he loved you but not under Death’s malignant threat.

He would admit he loved you only if he could live to fulfill that promise. When he could take you dancing. When he could be sure to fall asleep kissing you and wake up just the same.

What was the point of saying it if he never had the chance to show it?

But could he really risk dying without ever telling you?

If he died and you never knew he loved you, he would regret it.

One last whistle resonated through the train station. The train wobbled, slowly moving.

No. No. No.

Tommy left the compartment, running to the corridors.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?”

The last thing he wanted was to break your heart if he didn’t come back. But he couldn’t leave without you knowing just how much he loved you.

He just had to make his way back to you.

And he could. He could fight and floor his opponent if it meant coming home to you.

He just had to say it. He had to.

He would never forgive himself if he didn’t.

Pushing away soldiers, ignoring their exclamations and complaints, Tommy finally reached the last car.

It was full but it didn’t matter. He burst in, running towards the window. Quick. Before it’s too late.

I love you.  

Soldiers were staring at him as if he was mad.

Maybe he was.

I love you.

He leaned out, almost tipping over and falling. He didn’t care.

I love you.

Tommy spotted you amongst the crowd.

I love you. I love you. I...

But the train had already left the platform.

It was too far. It was too late.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, defeated.

No one noticed the tears in his eyes. The train rushed under the dim tunnel as regret filled his body with immense darkness.

Too late.

You woke up with a groan, shy rays of sunshine tiptoeing through your quiet apartment. But you couldn’t enjoy the warm weather. Not when every limb, every muscle, every fiber of your body ached.

On the floor. You had fallen asleep on the floor.

You groaned again, stretching your sore legs. As you tried to get up, the night before came back to your mind. 

At least you had an explanation for your aching neck.

You called for Tommy, expecting to find him in the living room but the room was completely empty.

The exhaustion in your body was enough to not question it too much as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a cup of tea. And maybe some sleep in your bed.

But as you moved towards the table to prepare your breakfast, you noticed a small piece of paper.

Recognizing Tommy’s clear writing, you felt a warm rush through your body and a smile creeping on your tired features.

#ma ptite bombasse 🥰 #tommy <3 #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders #anna's fics #500 followers celebration #anna's grand ball #peaky blinders

[spacexseven]

Okok so I have an idea that just came to mind and I wanna know what you think about this

So I was thinking about darling in subordinate au what if they had a crush on dazai/chuuya (or both) at the beginning? I'd imagine they'd get bullied so badly for this

Tbh this is kinda like one of your posts with the yanderes going after a darling they previously rejected

Im gonna do chuuya for this because…i have a feeling i’ve discussed something about liking dazai for this au before…?

it’s easy to be fooled by chuuya at first sight, when you only notice his soft smile from a far distance away. and maybe, because of all the time you spent being crushed under dazai’s heel, it’s even easier to create a fantasy version of him in your head, and fall for him—hard. you tell yourself that if you worked hard enough, dazai would eventually have to let you go, or maybe if he gets tired of you, he’ll shift you over to someone else, maybe even chuuya. you liked to believe that he wouldn’t be so cruel and condescending, just for the little solace your imagination brought you. you liked to believe he would be a better boss, and an even better friend. 

of course, all your hopes are dashed when you actually meet him. for starters, chuuya rarely let go of his deep scowl, especially around you and dazai. suddenly, he was so much more intimidating, and the callous way he treated you, whether out of irritation or just because he knew kind treatment would only get dazai angry, only served to make you more terrified. he glares at you, and his words are sharp, painful; like he knows exactly how to get to you. this was far from the chuuya you saw all those days ago. dazai’s perceptive enough to catch on to your longing looks and the droop in your shoulders, and he’s simultaneously amused and annoyed by it. was he giving you so little work that you had time to be catching feelings?

regardless, you suffer. you bury yourself in the work dazai gives you in a pathetic attempt at trying to ignore the heartbreak, and the less you see chuuya, the easier it gets. you foolishly believe that that would be the end of it.

while you’re busy trying to make sure you don’t die while completing the tasks assigned to dazai, you fail to realize that someone else has noticed the lack of your presence. perhaps it’s because chuuya has begun to see you like an extension of dazai; the tail of his shadow, but it felt unnatural to see the taller man prance around the building without you dragging your feet behind him. he would have been stupid to not notice you gawking over him, and chuuya was far too perceptive to miss the dejected expression on your face every time you got remotely close to him, but he just didn’t care. it didn’t matter to him that you probably just wanted a friend—everyone here were barely managing to look out for themselves, let alone make friends, but the part that bothered him the most was how small you looked beside dazai. chuuya was no stranger to witnessing dazai’s more sadistic side, but somehow, he was infuriated by the thought that you could only ever obey the fool’s orders if you wanted to live. it bothered him even more that he couldn’t involve himself in any way, but he wouldn’t be caught dead pitying you. you deserved better than his pity. admiration, maybe for making it this far despite the cruel circumstances. sympathy, because he knew how hard it could be to deal with dazai, but not pity.

somewhere along the way, his feelings of admiration and sympathy and something else turns into a strange fascination, shows as an unexpected interest. he has an eye out for you all the time, just to make sure you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. his angry cursing focuses more on dazai and not on you. instead you’re graced with a strange half-smile, if only for a moment. some of the black lizard member, the ones who pick on you—dazai’s pet, as they like to call you, jeering—are found brutally beaten, half-dead and silent despite all demands to know who the attacker was. dazai giggles as he tells you this, like he knows something you don’t. then his voice goes cold and he reminds you that you’re only safe by his side, as his pet. better the devil you know, right? (not that you’d ever claim to know dazai). even mori regards you with slight apprehension, as if in disbelief over something. 

the question remains unasked; how did you, measly little thing, cause so much trouble?

chuuya’s acts go unnoticed by you, in fact, you don’t spare him the light of day, more on edge by dazai’s warnings and the strange way everyone seems to watch you. his attempts at conversation register to you as veiled threats, and you’re far too frightened by him to spend even a moment more lingering around him once you sense his presence. maybe the distance should disappoint him, but chuuya’s vague interest in you hasn’t developed that far yet. besides, it’s not too bad to watch over you from afar. 

once it does get worse, though, chuuya will try to clear up the misunderstandings. he demands for more of your time, insists that dazai can’t make use of you, stands up for you publicly and makes it clear that he disapproves of dazai’s treatment of you. anything to make you realize his intentions. 

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere chuuya x reader #yandere chuuya nakahara #yandere chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #subordinate au 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #chuuya 🐟 #drabble 🐟 #ask 🐟 #oops kinda rambled #unedited !!

[lost-walmartbag]

hiii!! do u have a potential post/finish date for first impressions pt4? ive been rereading the parts like every other day i cant get enough of ur writing omg.

Warning: Swearing

Background: After dinner, Liane suggests you and Eric go out for the night.

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

'Night out'

Dinner was tense, to say the least. Liane would either not speak or ask only Eric questions. She wouldn't even eat the potato salad you made and looked offended when Eric seemed to love it.

"Honestly babe this is great." He said with a soft smile.

You gave a simple nod feeling the cold glare Liane was shooting your way. Her food was honestly amazing but so filling and kinda greasy. You felt like if you ate more than the small portion you served yourself you'd gain half your body weight overnight.

"Your cooking is so good Ms. Cartman." You said trying your best to salvage the night, and foolishly hoping with that one comment she's immediately love you.

She gave a forced smile and nodded before turning back to Eric. "So honey you look like you lost a lot of weight are you eating alright?"

She was right, of course. Eric had lost a bit of weight since you first met him, it wasn't too much but it was noticeable. You've seen a picture of him as a kid and he was always chubby, but now he gained some muscle, and honestly? He looked amazing.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm eating ok. Y/N never really stops cooking." He said with a chuckle, seemingly not as nervous anymore. "And we go to the gym sometimes so yeah I guess I have."

Liane took in a sharp breath, her nostrils flared and her grip on her glass tightened. "Well isn't that wonderful? Seems like you changed a lot since you left me."

This made Eric gain all that nervous energy back. And you can see why. She said it like it was meant to harm him. Like her words were a knife and she was aiming for his stomach.

"Yeah, I guess so.." He said shifting in his seat.

"You haven't called since you left." Another stab. "Was starting to think you forgot about me."

She put her fork and knife down and gave a small smile. It was insincere, angry. But you weren't sure if Eric saw that. "So I'm glad you came.

"Y-Y/N wanted to meet you so I thought so yeah know...thought it was a good idea." He said looking at Liane but avoiding her eyes.

"Oh. Well, I guess I have you to thank, Y/N." She said darting her cold eyes to you, and you can tell it killed her a bit inside to say that. She turned back to Eric and gave a sickly sweet smile. "You two staying long?"

"Maybe just the night," Eric said, biting his lip.

"That just won't do!" She said with a shocked expression. Don't you want to see your friends again?" Liane said gathering the empty plates on the table. "In fact, why don't you go out tonight? I'm sure the boys would love to see you."

You got a sinking feeling in your stomach at her suggestion. God, if she hated you, how would his friends react?

"I-I don't know...I mean are they even still in town? I'm sure they're busy." Eric said trying to figure out how to say no without the words coming out of his mouth.

"I insist! Most of them are still in town. Stan visits every now and then. Kyle and Kenny work at the school. In fact, I bet they're all at the bar downtown as we speak." Liane said before turning to you and dropping her 'motherly' voice. "Y/N wouldn't mind going. Would you?"

You hated how much this woman scared you. "N-nope! Don't mind at all! L-let's go I'd love to meet everyone." You said, giving an unconvincing laugh.

Eric bounced his leg and nodded. "Okay...yeah let's go."

You and Eric stood up and speed walked out the door. Once you two were in the car you both let out a sigh of relief.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Eric said starting the car.

"Yeah well it would have helped if you told me she was fucking crazy!" You said running your hands down your face. "I feel like I aged twenty years. I started worrying about my morgage in there."

"Why do you think I never wanted you to meet her?"

"I don't know! I thought you were like planning to break up with me soon or something!" You said as he drove.

He slammed down on the break petal and turned to look at you. "Y/N are you kidding?" He said, clearly offended. "Y/N you are the only person in my life that I turn back to. I left everything here because I couldn't fucking stand it."

You felt your cheeks heat up as Eric looked at you with his blue and brown eyes. He cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips into a line. "I can stand you. You are the only person I never get tired of."

"You are the only thing that makes sense." He continues. "My mom says she loves me but doesn't want me to be happy. My friends fucking hate me but still keep me around. Y/N you mean everything you say. When you say you love me I don't even fucking question it. God you're so-"

He cut himself off and let out a small frustrated growl. He grabbed your cheeks and pressed his lips into yours. You melted into his touch and kissed back. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, gently tugging. You gasp softly and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth.

The kiss quickly heated up. Your hands move down to his arms trying to keep yourself grounded, feeling that if you let go you'd float away. Before you two could get enough there was a honk behind the car, reminding you both that you were parked in the middle of the road. Eric let out a frustrated growl and reluctantly pulled away from your lips.

"Asshole could just move around." He muttered as he continued driving.

You let out a small laugh and leaned your head against the window. You felt less nervous about the rest of the night but you couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling in your stomach. What would his friends be like? Why would Liane make you and Eric leave if she didn't want you around? What was she playing at?

"What are your friends like?" You asked softly.

"I wouldn't really call them friends." He said looking ahead at the semi-empty road. "I liked hanging around Kenny, he was pretty cool. Stan was fine but he was more Kyle's friend than me or Kenny's. And Kyle....Kyle and I didn't really like each other."

You look over at him wondering if you should ask what you're about to. "Why not?"

"It's a long story...not ready to talk about all that yet." He said with a sigh.

"Remember last time you weren't ready to talk about something?" You asked half-teasingly. "Had to have a weird dinner with your mom who clearly hates me."

"I know but I just...It'll take me some time so be patient yeah?" He said parking in front of a small bar.

"Yeah okay." You said with a sigh. "Now let's go meet your....childhood acquaintances?"

Eric grimaced and chuckled. "Maybe calling them friends is better."

A/N: You guys can make me do literally anything you ask. I love seeing you guys enjoy my writing. But part 5 won't come for a bit, gotta give attention to my other stories. And I don't have a set schedule I just post when I post, but yeah if you guys love my writing and ever want an update on the next part just comment so it's a bit easier to give more updates. And if you don't wanna miss a part ask to be added to the taglist and I'll add you. I literally will not reject anyone who asks. a million people can ask and I will tag all of them. But yeah thank you sm for reading. Love ya'll bye bye.

Taglist: @jessiegerl @stephs-inluv @breadandbutter33

#south park #south park x reader #fanfic #south park x you #x reader #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #sp cartman #south park cartman #cartman south park

[nostromo13]

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T

Summary: Following the Alvarez war, Natsu has to come to terms with a new reality.

Merry Christmas! I did this one for @endragoneel and I loved their prompts. I wish I'd had more time for it, but other commitments got in the way. I hope you love it regardless, Ever. I definitely want to write more on this topic in the future. Also a big thank you to @allaboutnalu for the mountain of effort that went into organizing the whole gift exchange <3

A little additional info: Cymorth, the title, is a Welsh word that translates to support/aid (thank you to the anonymous person who corrected me on what I previously thought it was! I really appreciated it as I’m rusty on my Welsh)

AO3 Link

Cymorth

“No, dipshit, side K should be on side 296. Wait, that can’t be right.” Gray grumbled, snatching up the instructions to take another look.

Natsu groaned. His hands hadn’t hurt this much since he’d thrown Zeref through the wall of the guildhall. Or maybe since waking up on Tenrou island and the sleep state had preserved not only him but all the cuts and bruises of the fight with Hades too. They’d been at this table and its gibberish instructions for hours, doing their part in the post Alvarez war rebuild by shaping up Magnolia’s library. The whole rebuild process taking way too long for his liking and aching palms were just adding to his impatience.

When Gray began to grumble again, he’d decided he’d had enough. He let the pieces he was holding together at a weird 79 degree angle drop to the floor, creating a loud bang that displeased his entire team and earned him a few choice words as he made his way over to Lucy’s bedroom.

He spied his girlfriend as he poked his head through her doorway, seeing that she was busy sorting through the piles of books torn down from the library shelves in the tremors caused by Acnologia’s attacks. The rest of their teammates had set up base in her living room, arguing through the instructions to build a new book returns table, the noise of which had sent her out to, as she put it, concentrate. He’d sat back from that argument for once, finding more enjoyment in observing since constructing things was not one of his strengths.

Feeling like she was a little too comfortable he readied himself for a sneak attack. Legs set to pounce, fingers ready to poke her relentlessly into annoyance and muscles primed to hold on until she either paid attention to him or Lucy kicked him for pestering her.

He took one step towards her, then another. Her back faced him and with every move closer he could feel the anticipation of how delicious this attack was going to be. Listening to Erza and Gray bark orders at Wendy, Carla and Happy all afternoon had his attention well and truly fried and more importantly his Lucy quota was severely deficient.

His attack progression paused for a moment as he caught himself up in the excitement of it. His partner was in front of him. Alive and safe, busy kneeled in a mountain of books that he was sure to be her happy place. He let out a quiet laugh to himself, foolishly giving the game away and attracting her attention.

Lucy turned her head to pay him a quick glance before returning to her work, speaking to him. “Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to help me?”

“I’m bored.” He complained, rather like an impatient child. Or dragon slayer.

He joined her anyway, nudging a space for himself with his foot in the book pile with more carelessness than Lucy would appreciate. “If the table is done you could see what they’re doing at the guildhall. I have a few more hours of work before I’m done here tonight and I’m not sure how much fun you’ll find this, sorry.”

He gave her bedroom a glance for anything to distract himself while she worked, but nothing took his fancy after so many hours of a tedious task. His attention only really fell on who he’d come in here to distract. His girlfriend enjoyed little organisation jobs and appeared entirely content in the little book nest she’d messied the bedroom floor with.

In the few hours he hadn’t seen her Lucy had tied her hair up. It lay in a braid down her back, and pieces were slipping out each time she moved her head from the absentminded attempt to get her hair out of her face while trying to continue working at the same time.

With an audible “Hmph” Natsu sat himself down behind her. He tugged the hair tie gently so it fell into his hand and he got to work combing out any tangles with his fingers.

He felt her tilt her head slightly into his fidgeting, glad she hadn’t put up a protest and possibly gladder that he hadn’t gone through with his first approach of distracting her. As he worked through her hair and began braiding her features released the tense expression that she usually wore when she needed to concentrate. Lucy always looked a little upset when she did that and he could never quite wrap his head around the idea that she was perfectly okay, She had agreed that her resting face was one that did appear quite frowny, but she’d assured him she wasn’t really thinking of anything when she was like that.

“I’m bored.” Her brow creased as she held two books in her hand, looking between them, but she didn’t acknowledge his statement. “And I’m hungry.”

“Gray said he was going on a food run in a bit. Why don’t you go with him?”

“Don’t wanna go with him. He’s smelly.”

She chuckled a little, not wanting to encourage his insult. “I have too much to do. Go get food and I’ll join you when it’s here.”

He tied the end of her new braid off, letting it fall flat against her back and shuffled closer so his chin could rest on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the fabric of one of his hoodies that lived here. “Take a break with me.”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“C’mon, you’ll strain your eyes.”

With a little huff of her own she began to stretch her legs, leaning against his chest comfortably as she did so. He tucked her head under his chin, meeting her eyes at an angle that made her giggle. “Pizza or Pad see ew?”

“Why do you get to choose?”

He stood as she moved, offering her a hand up off the floor. “Because it’s my turn. And only a few take out places have passed the damage checks.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “I want crepes.”

He hadn’t gathered the heart to tell her nowhere would be open at this time that did them when Gray dropped an agitated f-bomb from the adjoining room. Natsu laughed loudly with Lucy, hoping the ice freak could hear him through the wall.

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

With a quick goodbye and collection of orders from their teammates, they set off down the canal streets to the centre of town where more food options were available. Lucy had opted for a jacket as the September air was now turning frigid and Lucy was the sort that if she didn’t have a hundred layers on in the colder months she’d complain until her fingers fell off. Except he’d never let that happen.

Her fingers met his as they walked, her pale hand clasping his tanned one together in an easy swing between them. It was a short walk to the town centre, and a small debate between the two ended them up at a small dumpling place being run out of the back of a pizza restaurant in an agreement made by two neighbourly owners for the time it took for Magnolia to rebuild.

“I’ve got Wendy some mango pudding.” She told him as she joined him standing outside the restaurant for their order to be prepared. “She liked it here last time, but it can be hit and miss.”

Natsu nodded, taking her hand back. Her skin felt cool in his, contrary to her having been inside moments ago, although his warmer temperature made it hard to tell sometimes. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just chilly.”

She didn’t need to ask. He ran his arms up and down hers, pulling her closer so she could benefit off his body heat.

“It’s only 50 degrees.”

He laughed at her trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. It always felt like a big deal to him when she couldn’t handle the winter months as well as him. He hated the way it made her slow in the mornings and shower ten minutes longer each time. It was nice that it made her cuddle up to him more. She was less of a physically affectionate person, whereas he naturally drifted towards it. At least with her anyway. He’d identified a similar thought sometime around her birthday just before the war.

She gave into his warmth, thinking they probably appeared silly to anyone that looked at them both rubbing her arms.

“After the heat from your book everything just feels a bit mediocre in comparison.” She admitted jokingly between them. “Don’t look at me like that, Natsu. I didn’t mean it to worry you.”

“I always worry about you.” His eyes dropped from hers, looking at the thick coat on her shoulders. He’d ceased warming her arms, stopped her biceps.

“Food order for Lucy.” A waiter called out from the restaurant doors, holding out two full paper bags.

Natsu dropped his hold, grabbing the food with a “Thanks” before they set off back.

The roads were quiet this time of night, and the currently displaced citizens temporarily living in Onibus meant the place was even less populated. Magnolia wasn’t meant to be quiet. Natsu was used to there being a hundred different sounds to choose from every time they walked down the main streets. Now all he could hear was the canal beneath their feet under the bridge and Lucy struggling to adjust her hold on the dumplings.

“Give it here.” Liberating the bag, he paused as she protested. She glared, pouting unconscious of where the streetlights managed to shadow the top portion of her face, making it all the more funny to him.

“What?”

He smirked, showing a cheeky canine. “Nothing.”

“Can we go home then. I’m freezing my butt off out here.” She waddled on the spot in a little Lucy-warming-up dance, trying to produce some friction between her hands. He only responded by watching, making a face that didn’t require him to verbalise to call her a weirdo. “Natsu please it’s practically Baltic.”

“I wanna sit for a bit.”

“The food will get cold.”

He ignored her, dumping the bags by the bridge side and sitting on the stone ledge, letting his legs dangle freely. She may have huffed and puffed behind him in annoyance, but knowing if she had would have required him to put in the effort to turn around. “I’ll warm it up later.” He excused when she finally joined him.

They sat for a small while, taking in the pleasures of a calm September night. The rebuild effort was taking a lot out of everyone at the guild and sometimes Natsu just needed a moment. He thought that after the war forced their lives to stop as it raged through everything they called home he could take a few moments to appreciate it occasionally. Even if it meant food would wait five minutes.

Beside him Lucy swung her legs, leaning back to watch the stars, her teeth absentmindedly chewing on her lip. He hadn’t meant to start watching her, but she had a way of capturing his attention sometimes, and it surprised him when she suddenly spoke.

“Do you think about END?” Lucy asked, eyes still buried in the night sky.

He felt himself frown. It was a valid question; he just never knew where she got them from when she came up with stuff like this. Normally it was more along the lines of ‘What do you think sheep count to go to sleep?’ and not the existential sort. He nodded. “Not so much when I’m in the shower, but when I’m hungry I know he needs feeding.”

She smiled. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Actually, she really didn’t get it. She’d analysed every bit of her life since they found out her partner was END to see any way she could relate to what he was going through. Finding out something so big so far down the line felt earthshattering to her.

“I guess it answered some questions for me.” He shrugged and she turned, listening with care. “I didn’t know there was a part of me out there in some book, but it doesn’t feel strange.” He paused before he continued with a new thought. “Like when they said I’ve got that dysleck- dyslexic what’s-it.”

“Dyslexia.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t know letters weren’t meant to look like that because that’s all I know. It’s not as if dragons get dyslexia, so how was Igneel supposed to have spotted it when he was teaching me.”

She hummed, understanding better.

“END doesn’t feel separate to me. I just feel a little less tied down.” Natsu corrected himself when worry graced her features. “Not tied down. Just… I think it’s the knowing now that I was tied to that thing, tied to Zeref when he’s the bastard that’s been causing us trouble for so long. I’m happy I got to pound his face into the ground.”

“Without him I never would have met you.” Lucy spoke with a small smile. “I know it’s wrong for me to think about it like that when the whole of Fiore has been affected by what he’s done. I can’t help but want to be a little selfish. Without you I-”

“I get it.” He interrupted accidentally in his eagerness to agree. “I haven’t exactly processed what he did or what he is meant to mean to me. I don’t care about rushing on that. It gave me a chance to meet you, and Happy and everyone else. I wouldn’t be me without ya.”

He gathered her into his hold, her arms holding tight around his neck. She pressed her nose into Natsu’s collar, inhaling his warmth as he stroked her hair. They sat like that for a few minutes. The only presence around them on the cold street whatever wildlife hadn’t been scared off or killed in the war.

Finally, he pulled away. “Did you find the book after you lost it?”

Lucy shook her head. “It disintegrated, Natsu. It shouldn’t be possible for it to turn up again.”

He didn’t like the way her mouth had settled into a sharp line. His skin pricked with anxiety as a wave of stress washed over him. “Does me being END bother you? Like, dating me?”

“What?” She didn’t drop the line, instead directing it more towards him. “Why would you think that? I-” She allowed herself to breathe, refocusing herself on the conversation. “I love you. I love every part of you.”

“Every part?” He grinned into an innuendo, achieving the look of dismay he sought from his girlfriend.

“If I do break up with you it’ll be over you saying stuff like that in public. Maybe I’ll shack up with Cana.” She quickly backtracked. “No actually, she’d be worse.”

“Like you making gooey eyes at my chest when we’re at the guildhall is any different? Besides,” He leaned in closer, his breath meltingly warm against her lips. “We’re not in public. There’s no one here.”

She felt a warm hand place on her thigh, stroking above her jeans, the surprise of it sparking the same feeling Natsu could always elicit from her. Lips pressed to her own, paying particular attention to where she abused the skin frequently as he continued kissing her. Lucy pressed her chest closer to his with a tug on his jacket. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, taking his lips away to smile down at her. She felt herself getting enchanted, and it took a good effort for her to steel herself, brushing his hand off and standing up, too aware of the sharp drop into water 2 inches of a footstep wrong. “If you’re going to do that it’s not going to be where any peeping Tom can get a free show from their curtains. We’ve got food to deliver, come on.”

He followed her off the edge, picking up their food before slinging an arm around her shoulders. Their delay in grabbing dinner had meant a very hangry Gray and several apologies from Lucy, but they did eventually get a Natsu-rewarmed meal.

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

Natsu yawned as he shuffled out of bed, stretching his arms over his head as he made his way to the bathroom in the dark. He’d heard the hour beep on Lucy’s bedside alarm clock, and by his guess it was about 2 AM. Erza, Gray, Wendy and the exceeds had left around 10, leaving him to distract Lucy from the hundred more books she insisted needed sorting tonight. He had managed to coax her into another rewatch of How to Train Your Dragon. A movie he insisted was a cinematic marvel and later when Lucy had introduced the books to him a literary marvel too.

Upon leaving the bathroom he glanced over to his girlfriend passed out in the bed. She’d encroached onto his side in the few minutes he had taken to pee and, worrying it might’ve meant she was seeking his heat, he decided on fetching another blanket to throw on top of the small mountain she required.

He opened her chest of drawers first, finding none of the thicker sort she preferred, before opening her wardrobe. He lifted the first of the fluffy ones, gathering the large monstrosity over his shoulder as his eye caught on the object that had sat beneath the blanket.

It was a book. One with worn brown leather bound to a thick manuscript of papers. It had a patiently decorated boarder with a small sun facing down from the top. If he’d analysed it closely he maybe could have seen that it had been read and re-read many times, but his attention lay solely on the front cover, and the black painted-on font that read ‘E.N.D’.

#Nalu #Nalu Gift Exchange #Nalu Gift Exchange 2023 #END #Fairy Tail

[authurials]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ... 2/3

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . harwin looks to make good on his promise to wed you by the end of day

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / three

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . pushed through this while feeling under the weather, but finally it is done and i can turn my attention towards the longer piece i’ve been thinking about (hint: it has the main character as the younger sister of harwin and larys). it will be strictly posted on ao3 but i’ll post on here when it’s published and when each update comes out. now in terms of this piece, i might (and that’s a strong might), make a third part at some point about their first time as husband and wife because that was my intention with this piece but as of now i don’t have it in me to write smut. with all that being said, remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 accusing stare of a dragon was not a comfortable position to be in you were quickly coming to realize; it was a situation in which not even a cup of wine like the one in front of you could offer any real resolve to. When placed in a predicament such as yours all one could really do was sit and wait and maybe hope for a bit of mercy from the dragon. After all, it was you that was the cause of all the dragon’s ire and frustrations on that particularly gloomy morning.

Across from you sat the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the pale-haired beauty that was Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen; she sat stoically with her cup of wine in hand, bringing it slowly to her lips without ever taking her eyes off of you. It would be foolishly prideful of you to deny any idea as to why your lover had been so bewitched and loyal to her all of these years. She was pretty after all–ridiculously so; but not only that, she had this indescribable aura about her, one that exuded this undeniable affinity for power and fire.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was truly a dragon–one that you had managed to piss off.

“Ser Harwin Strong came to me earlier this morning,” she finally broke the tension after taking a sip from her cup. Setting it down, she continued, “but I suppose you were already aware of his intention to visit.”

“I was, your grace,” you bowed your head, both in an attempt to seem respectful and as a way to escape her piercing gaze; her eyes were dark that day, resembling the steel of that of a freshly constructed blade–heat still sizzling on the sharp edge.

Earlier that day, before the sun had barely broken free of the horizon and rose steadily into the sky, you had awoken for once in the arms of Ser Harwin Strong–your shared lover, your newly intended husband. It was not often that he could stay long enough for you to fall asleep let alone hold you in his arms throughout the night, and upon these rare occasions you would commonly take advantage with a late start to the day. However, that morning was not one for such luxuries and Harwin had departed soon after awakening, wasting no time in making good on his promise to be wed by the end of that day.

“Then I am sure you are also aware of his intention to step down as Lord Commander,” the princess hummed, “and take you as his wife.”

There was no point in denying it really; the princess had been aware of your presence in Harwin’s life since before they even began their affair together. She was also aware that there had never been any way in which to forbid Harwin from being with you–she had never wanted to try and cage him in such a way; so instead the two of you had had an unspoken understanding, you kept quiet about what you knew and she would allow Harwin to continue seeing you.

“Yes, I am aware of this,” you replied after a moment’s pause, finally raising your head once more to meet her gaze.

“I told him I could not allow this,” Rhaenyra’s lips were set in a grim line, your own down-turning into a frown as your heart skipped a beat. “His stepping down as Lord Commander will only further the suspicions surrounding my children in court, I am sure you can understand this.”

“Your grace-” you opened your mouth to defend your position; already the hope that had filled you since last night was dwindling away like a weak flame.

“But it appears he cannot be swayed from this decision,” the princess cut you off with a sigh, finger tracing the rim of her cup as she thoughtfully looked at its contents.

“I-” you took a deep breath to calm yourself once more, it would do you no good to become upset and therefore irrational. “I am not quite sure I understand what you are saying.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze met yours once more, holding it there as she spoke, “it is apparent that Ser Harwin is of one mind and cannot be persuaded to see better reason.”

She shifted in her chair, straightening her back as she folded her hands in front of her.

“And although it pains me to let him go,” she continued, smiling sadly, “the thought of refusing him this pains me more oddly enough.”

A part of you dared not believe what you were hearing, fearful to hope that after all these years of waiting things could fall into place so easily. If Harwin and you were to have the princess’ blessing, the only obstacle left in your path would be that of your current promise to Larys. Your father could hardly refuse a better match–Harwin was the heir of his father, and a knight unlike any other in the realm. The only problem you could foresee is Harwin’s father, who might not take kindly to you snubbing one son for the other.

“Although,” Rhaenyra’s voice drew you back to the matter at hand, “perhaps I could persuade you to make him see how foolish he is being?”

“Your grace?” You frowned.

“This union will have its consequences,” she explained, “not only for Harwin and I, but you as well. Surely you know that I am not the only one they whisper about in the court? These rumors will only worsen if you are intent on marrying, especially as soon as tonight; it will be seen as confirmation of what they suspected all along.”

“And what is it that they suspect?” You asked, raising an eyebrow; you were well aware of what people said about you, you just wanted to hear Rhaenyra say it.

“That Ser Harwin has been bedding us both, and that he has managed to put a babe into you as he has done to me thrice now,” she offered you a crooked smile. “Only this time his trysts have caught up to him and now he is being forced to marry you.”

You snorted, breaking out into laughter that the princess soon joined in; although there was truth to it, the drama of it all was rather amusing to the both of you.

“I care not for what others think,” you said once you had both finished, one last chuckle escaping your lips as you smiled fondly at the woman across from you. “I only care that I will finally be able to call the man I have loved for so many years my husband, and that he will call me his wife. They can say what they want about me, our love is my armor as your station is yours, princess.”

She regarded you with amusement still warm in her eyes, bowing her head respectfully before standing up.

“Then there is nothing more for us to discuss.”

Leaving the princess’ apartments was like leaving a dream, a dream that you could hardly dare believe to be true even as the proof was waiting for you outside. Harwin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he waited, but the moment the door opened to reveal you he was pushing off to greet you. After a quick glance around, you noted that there was no one to bear witness to the exchange so you relaxed as he took your hands. Feeling the leather of his gloves under your fingers, you looked up into his concerned eyes.

“When I heard she had called you for a meeting in her solar, I feared-” he began.

“I know,” you interjected, nodding. “I feared the worst as well but I believe the princess has come to see that this is inevitable.”

“I do not wish to cause her any pain,” Harwin admitted, ducking his head.

“Nor do I,” you insisted, pushing back a curtain of curls as you reach up to cup his face, “but she understands this is what you–we–want. She wants you to be happy, Harwin.”

“And I want the same for her,” Harwin hummed, looking up to gaze into your eyes. “Does that upset you?”

You paused for a moment, contemplating the answer to his question. Many a time you had found yourself jealous of the relationship Harwin had with Princess Rhaenyra; it was only natural after all to not want to share the man you loved with another, and certainly not with one as beautiful as her. Not only had you envied her beauty, but also the sons she had bore Harwin, the sons you had not been allowed to give him. A part of you would most likely always resent the woman for what she had been able to share with Harwin, but now that resentment dulled in comparison to the respect you now held for the future heir.

“No,” you laughed softly, smiling. “I would expect nothing less from the man that I love then to wish the best for the mother of his children. She will always be a part of who you are, Harwin, and since I adore every part of you then there is love in my heart for her as well.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” Harwin chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Pulling away, he muttered, “and every part, you say?”

“That is quite enough of that, ser,” you scold teasingly, even as you leaned up for another kiss, “at least until we are wed.”

“Then thank the gods I intend to make you mine this very night,” he smirked. “I had just finished speaking with our fathers when I heard word of your meeting with Princess Rhaenyra.”

“You spoke with my father?” You asked, suddenly uneasy once more. “What did he say?”

“He was surprisingly more agreeable than my own,” Harwin sighed, folding his hands behind his back as he stood to his full height once more. The pair of you began to walk, you listening intently as Harwin recounted what transpired. “Of course, why would he not be? I am my father’s heir, after all, and if you are to be my wife that would make our children the heirs to Harrenhal.”

“And your father?” You pressed, remembering your earlier concerns.

“He has….concerns,” Harwin hesitated, looking straight ahead as you continued on your way. “There is Larys of course, which you have already been betrothed to; luckily an official announcement has yet to be made, which will make for less questions when we wed. However, father has made it clear I am to find him a suitable replacement as soon as possible.”

“In a way of apology?” You inquired.

“Aye,” he nodded, frowning. “Yet it is not only my brother that causes my father hesitation, but also the implications of our hasty union.”

“People will talk,” you agree, “not that they are not already–this will simply confirm what they all already believe to be true.”

“I am aware,” he sighs, “but that offers little comfort to my father’s ailing fears over our House’s reputation.”

“He is opposed to us marrying then,” you stated with certainty, teeth beginning to worry your bottom lip.

“Not opposed,” Harwin shakes his head, taking you around the corner, your hand tucked into the corner of his elbow; it is then that you realize the both of you are headed back towards your chamber. “I will not deny that he has his concerns, but he ultimately has agreed to support the union because at least it will put a stop to the speculation–eventually. I would also like to think he wishes his son to be happy with the woman that he loves.”

He nudged you teasingly, causing you to smile with ease once more as you continued your walk. There was more to discuss and much to do if the two of you were to be joined that night, something Harwin continued to insist upon despite your own insistence that you were okay with a longer engagement.

“Afraid you will change your mind, my lord?” You asked, both in jest and out of your own curiosity.

“Never,” Harwin passionately declared as you stopped outside the door to your chambers; you could hear the bustle of someone from within, though you chose not to question it at that time. “I simply wish to waste no more time in making you mine–wholly and completely. I will hesitate no longer when it comes to this matter.”

“This matter,....” you teased, rolling your eyes. “You make it sound so romantic.”

“It is what I do best,” he chuckled, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting it go. “It appears the handmaids I requested have arrived and begun preparations for tonight. It would be rude to keep them waiting any longer, my love, so I am afraid we must part ways–for now.”

“Handmaids?” You raised an eyebrow. “My, you have been busy this morning, Ser Harwin.”

“As I said before–no more hesitating,” he smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as his hands rested on your lower back. “My decisions must be quick and sure  from now on if I am to be your lord husband. Now, into your chambers with you, wench.”

“Harwin!” You gasped as you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your rear end, gone as quick as it had come. Staring up at him in bewilderment, he chuckled and turned to leave, striding down the hallways and leaving you a blushing mess. Not for the first time, you thanked the gods for the emptiness of your surroundings before quickly disappearing into your room.

You were greeted by the two familiar faces of your fellow handmaids, girls younger than yourself who had yet to etch out something for themselves in this world. They welcomed you with excited praises and congratulations, wasting no time in helping you undress so that you may soak in the warm bath they had drawn for you. There was still plenty of time before the wedding, but Harwin had made his instructions clear that you were to be pampered until then.

“I cannot believe you are to be wed this very night, my lady,” one of the girls, Dacey, sighed dreamily; she sat beside the tub, working on some needlepoint while she waited for you to finish so her and the other handmaid, Maege, could help you dress.

“And to someone as handsome as Ser Harwin Strong,” Maege giggled from across the room, laying out your clothes carefully on the bed.

“Handsome, yes,” Dacey nodded, “and strong.”

“I am indeed a very lucky lady,” you laughed, dragging the washcloth down your arm as you regarded the younger girls with amusement. At their age you too had been titillated at the prospect of marriage, having had this romanticized outlook on it; and though you were lucky enough now to marry the man that you loved, you knew that that was not always the case. However, you hoped that someday Maege and Dacey could find their own Ser Harwin–men that were handsome and strong and kind to them.

It is what all women deserved, after all.

“Are you nervous?” Maege asked once you were out of the tub and dried off; you were now pulling on your undergarments, stepping into them with skin still flushed from the warm bath. Behind you, Dacey helped pull together the ties and secure them together, fingers working quickly as Maege unraveled the pieces of your gown.

“A bit I suppose,” you smiled, smoothing out the wrinkles in your undergarment’s skirt. “Although I have known Ser Harwin for years and I feel rather comfortable with him….”

“Do you now?” Dacey asked. You could practically hear the knowing smirk in her voice and you felt yourself blush, fearful you might have let too much slip.

Thankfully, Maege came to rescue by lifting up the layers of underskirt that would go under your gown; together, she and Dacey attached the underskirts to your waist, securing them in place so that they would not slip and fall. The gown itself was a creamy yellow color, pale with golden embroidery on the bodice and sleeves, but otherwise plain in its design. However, you found that you loved its simplicity as the handmaids lifted it so they could lower it over your head and arms. Once the gown was tightened in the back by Dacey, you were free to see yourself for the first time in the mirror.

As you stood in front of it, hands gripping the thickness of its skirts as your still damp hair curled around your face, it finally hit you that you were truly going to be married that very night; not only that, but it was to be with the man you had loved for so many years–since you were a girl of six and ten. There would be no more sneaking around, no more moontea, no more having to hide what you and Harwin were.

“You look beautiful,” Maege smiled over your shoulder, Dacey nodding in agreement as the three of you looked at your reflections in the mirror.

It didn’t dawn on you how nervous you truly were until you were standing outside the small chambers of the sept later that night. Your father stood by your side as you worried your hands together and waited, pacing slightly back and forth.

“What ails you, daughter?” He asked, looking rather reserved with his hands folded behind his back; your relationship with your father had never been a close one, having spent much of the past few years apart with you at court and him off at Harrenhal.

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, frowning as you continued your measured steps. “Well, I suppose it is not nothing….is it natural to be this nervous?”

Your father smiled, looking down at his shoes as he addressed you with a soft laugh: “I am afraid so, my dear. The day I wed your mother, I felt as if the nerves would consume me–and I wasn’t even the one who had to walk down that aisle.”

At the mention of your mother you stopped, looking over at him carefully; your mother had been long since dead, taken by a sickness that had spread throughout your homefront like a barely contained fire. At the time of her passing you had been a girl of two and ten, not yet a woman bloomed and forever without the guidance only a mother could provide. To this day the ghost of her memory haunted the space between you and your father, neither of you able to bridge the gap her absence had created. Yet, in that moment, with your father’s admission, you felt closer to him than you had in all these years.

“It is time,” your father hummed, holding out his hand for you to take. “Shall we, daughter?”

You took a deep breath and took it, allowing him to tuck your arm in the crook of his just as the double doors of the sept were pulled open. The chamber was dimly lit by oil lanterns hung high in the rafters and melting candles scattered about on every available surface. The pews of the religious sept were empty aside from near the front where Harwin’s father and brother sat to the left, similar to Harwin standing at attention on the same side with the septon beside him. The sight of him in his finest cloak and tunic had your heart fit to burst, heavy for once not with the ache of a forbidden love but with your desire for this man.

Your future was now so clearly stretched out in front of you as you were led down the aisle. You could see you and Harwin years from now, husband and wife, children at your feet playing as you both rested by the fire. To some it might have seemed terribly boring, but for you it was all you had ever really wanted, and now it would finally be yours.

As you stopped in front of Harwin, whose own eyes looked nowhere but at you, the septon cleared his throat and began the ceremony: “who here today gives this woman away?”

“Her father does,” your father spoke, placing your hand into Harwin’s outstretched one. You were drawn closer so you were standing by Harwin’s side, the pair of you situated in front of the septon as he continued.

“Very good–” The man nodded. “We stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

With shaking hands, the septon leans forward and ties a pale ribbon around yours and Harwin’s joined hands. As he does, you lift your head to look into Harwin’s eyes, crinkled at the edges as he smiles warmly at you. You smile back nervously, bowing your head once more as the ribbon was finally secured.

“Let it be known that these two are one heart, one flesh, one soul,” the septon spoke. “Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words-”

Hands still tied together, Harwin and you turned to look at one another as you began to resight your vows: “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger….”

As you said the words together, lips moving in sync, gazes unwavering, you were suddenly that girl of six and ten again; meeting Harwin by the Gods Eye under the secrecy of night, stealing glances in the great hall at meals, brief moments together in the shadowed corners of a hallway. Through it all, you had always hoped for this moment.

“I am hers,” Harwin said, “and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

As he spoke, you felt that familiar ache in your throat, but ignoring the threat of tears, you repeated his words:

“I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

“With this kiss,” Harwin smiled, leaning down, “I pledge my love.”

And with those words, you both sealed that promise with a kiss.

#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 : #house of the dragon #hotd #harwin strong #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong one shot

[cross-crye]

𝔴𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔦𝔯𝔠𝔲𝔪𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰

malleus draconia (twst) x gn!reader angst

lilia makes an appearance

w.c. 0.5k

~ !reader is NOT yuu; not proofread this fic is inspired by a conversation i had w @marsgod a while back. its been living rent free in my head ever since so ive finally written it down.

summary: What if yuu wasn’t the first magicless student to come to NRC? Crowley sent the reader back to their home world a while ago despite their protests. Now they’ve finally managed to return, only to find out that things changed and they’d been replaced.

~also posted on ao3

The surface of the mirror was bubbling, almost like boiling water in a pot. It looked as if there was something under the surface of the mirror struggling to get out, making ripples appear all over, almost as if the glass had turned into the sea itself. The floor length mirror took the appearance of an abyss, as the magic affecting the mirror was making it absorb light instead of reflecting it like a regular mirror should. Yet despite all this all was quiet, not even their breath being heard as they stepped through the mirror.

Initially, joy coursed through their veins upon recognising the famed mirror chamber. Even the slight disappointment upon seeing the lack of people in the room hadn’t managed to lower their spirits, if only they knew what was expecting them. They slowly made their way out of the room, traversing the dark hallways of the school, hoping to encounter anybody they might be at the very least acquainted with. Yet nobody appeared as they continued to venture deeper into the school. After a while of wandering around unsuccessfully they decided to go to the mirror chamber, hoping that searching the dorms would leave them with a satisfying result.

The walk back to the chamber was unpleasant due to the less-than-optimal circumstances. Despite not wishing to accept it negative thoughts were clouding their judgment, almost like whispers in their head, reminding them of the worst. Their footsteps resounded along the long and winding corridors, the quiet unbearable, as foul thoughts filled the silence. Perhaps they’d been gone too long, or maybe failed to reach the proper world. Whatever the truth was, they were currently blinded to it as insecurities took over their rationality.

Eventually the mirror chamber was within sight, making the pathways to the dorms visible. Even if it weren’t for their wish to venture to Diasomnia it was as if a force beyond their comprehension was calling them towards the dorm’s entrance. Due to its sheer size, they had to continue to walk before even nearing the actual castle inside of the dorm’s realm, the walkway was long which allowed for more negative thoughts to brew inside their mind. But the distant sound of chatter brought back some hope into their heart.

And so they quickly but quietly made their way into the Diasomnia dorm lounge, only to remain frozen upon lying eyes onto the sight in front of them. Confusion was evident on their features, yet they foolishly remained hopeful for perhaps they’d misunderstood. Maybe a chat with a friend would shed some light into the situation, Lilia always did know everything about any conceivable situation. They reluctantly made their way forward, joining the smaller fae’s side. There was no time to clarify the nature of the situation, as Malleus kissed “his child of man’s” hand while gazing into that person's eyes, the same way he had once done for them. He acted with this person, the same way he was with them, the one who'd been his beloved, now forgotten as he exchanged meaningful glances with the one known as Yuu.

All they could do was turn to Lilia and finally let the sadness in their heart show on their face and ask “How long was I gone?” The only response he uttered was much too heartbreaking for its literal meaning. “Too long.”

cross-crye © 2022.

no reposting, stealing, copying or translating my works.

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

#twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderand x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #twst angst #twst x reader angst #malleus angst #lilia vanrouge #diasomnia #x reader #malleus x you #malleyuu #angst #hurt/no comfort

[karatekels]

Scream For Me – Chapter 1:

We’re back in the Fresh Start-verse for this one! I’ve missed this Terry and Reader (and Victor) so much! 😭

This is going to be a two chapter arc, and while there shouldn’t be anything bad in this one, the next post is going to be DARK. I hope you like it!

No real trigger warnings for this part (maybe some vague plotting), but the next part will be full of them, so don't get invested in this if you don't think you'll want to read that sort of thing.

---

“He ended up beating the kid I had handpicked as my champion in Sudden-Death. John was devastated, and he disappeared – I never saw him again after we lost the tournament. And it… it ruined me, Y/N,” Terry confesses to you with a pained, faraway expression, his head resting on your lap while he sprawled across the rest of the sofa in your bedroom.

You look down at him with sad eyes, running your fingers through his silver-white curls soothingly. It wasn’t often that Terry opened up to you about his past like this – he was content to leave it behind him where it belonged, especially since it could stir up unpleasant memories for awhile afterwards – and you always cherished the moments when he was willing to share with you, no matter how the stories might hurt you both.

“I hit rock bottom, lost myself, sent my first company into a nosedive, nearly lost everything that four generations of my family had worked to build up, nearly overdosed more times than I can remember…” he trails off, his pale blue eyes wide and staring up into yours. You move your hand from his hair to stroke the side of his face, smiling softly down at him. His eyes flutter closed before he turns his head to the side, nuzzling his face against your palm and breathing deeply.

“But all of that was worth it, now that I know that working through it would ultimately lead me to you,” he murmurs, and your heart melts, the way it always did when Terry was particularly sweet and open with his feelings for you, even a year and a half later.

“…Even if I truly don’t deserve you.”

You let out a weary sigh; you hate hearing him speak about himself like this, like none of the work he had done to become the man you knew and loved mattered in the long run.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Terry. You are the most wonderful man, and it hurts to hear that you don’t see it.”

“Did you miss the part where I psychologically tortured a child into bloodying his knuckles? And laughed about it?” he snorts derisively, dismissing your attempts to defend him.

“There were so many other factors that caused you to make those decisions, love. And even if that was the man you were, it isn’t the man you are now, and he’s the one I fell in love with,” you counter, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “You are sweet, and kind, and generous, and considerate, and I count myself lucky everyday that you foolishly chose to love me back.”

“You are far too forgiving, my dear,” Terry informs you, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “I doubt you’d feel the same way if you had been around to see me do any of the terrible things I’ve done.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you say with a shrug. “I really can’t picture it at all.”

“Which part are you trying to picture?” he asks. “I assure you, it’s all still buried somewhere inside of me.”

“I can’t picture any of it, really. Breaking into that old man’s home, hurting anyone… I can’t picture you being scary at all, to be honest,” you confess, tossing your head back with a warm laugh.

Terry bolts upright, moving to sit on the other end of the couch to face you, and gives you a look.

“What?”

You cock your head at him, wondering at his reaction. “What?”

“You don’t think I’m scary?”

You try to look at him with a neutral expression, but can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at how offended he looks right now.

“No! Should I?” you ask jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No,” he admits grudgingly. “But you should know that I can be!”

Trying to quell your laughter, you crawl across the couch to him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, moving your head to try to catch his eye; he is stubbornly avoiding your gaze, like a petulant child.

“I’m sorry, Terry!” you tell him, genuinely not wanting to hurt his feelings or his sense of masculinity; he demonstrated the latter in dozens of other ways than being scary…

“I know that you are big, and strong, and could kick someone’s ass with one hand behind your back, and that you’ve got this big, dark past… but in my eyes you’ll always be a big teddybear.”

He gives you a dark, brooding look, and remains silent.

“Ter-ry!” you whine. You hate when he gives you the silent treatment. “It’s not a bad thing, not being that person anymore. It doesn’t make you any less of a man or anything.”

“Oh, I am fully aware of how much of a man I am, Y/N,” he sneers at you crossly, standing up with you still wrapped around him and stalking from the seating area over to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress unceremoniously. “Let me show you…”

---

Terry’s POV:

Terry splashes his face with water from the bathroom sink, patting himself dry with a towel and gazing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a frown.

You had called him a teddybear…

It almost made Twig sound macho by comparison.

He had worked hard on himself for decades to stop being the cruel, vindictive man that relished in passing on a fraction of his deep-seated traumas to others. He had tried to atone for his sins, contributing to charities and getting out of the toxic waste industry. He had spent endless hours in all sorts of therapy, getting over the War, addiction, his parents’ deaths, John…

None of this meant that he was no longer able to strike fear – Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy. – into anyone who dared to cross him the wrong way. That part of him, while it had laid mostly dormant over the years, still lurked within him, coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

He was still Terry Silver, and all that that entailed. He could still get his hands dirty, still fight, still drag information out of someone, one way or another…

Still kill, if he had to.

How could you not know that?

Perhaps he had gone too far in his rehabilitation, had hidden away some of the core parts of him a little too well.

But they were still there, even if you had never seen them. Maybe it was time that you did…

He slinks out of the bathroom, picking up his clothing and dressing silently, staring at you the whole time and seething. You are passed out in bed, looking thoroughly ravished, as you should, your hair a wild mess and your skin covered in fresh love bites. Serves you right for underestimating him, in his opinion. And the pounding he had just given you was nothing compared to what he is planning now; you would never question his abilities again. You would never question him again.

He loves you so much.

Enough to let you see all of him, even if you don’t want to face the truth.

Now fully dressed, he turns and slips out of the master bedroom, immediately pulling out his phone and making the call before he’s fully closed the door behind him.

“Sir.”

“I need to speak with you, Victor. Where are you right now?”

“Surveillance room on the ground floor, Sir.”

“Stay put. I’ll come to you.”

He ends the call, immediately sweeping through the house to Victor’s office at the other end of the mansion. The door opens as he approaches, and he sees himself in one of the monitors over Victor’s right shoulder.

The man was very good at his job.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Silver?” Victor asks the moment he closes the door behind Terry, straight to business as usual.

“Two nights from now, from say… 9 o’clock until noon the next day, I want everyone out.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Including you, Victor.”

There is a pause as Victor contemplates this requirement in silence. Terry knows that the man is particularly protective, and takes his job very seriously. It’s what Terry pays him so well for, after all.

“That… shouldn’t be a problem,” he concedes after a moment.

“I’m going to need all security devices disabled during that time, and the phone lines jammed, with the exception of my personal number.”

Victor stares at him as though he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell this is all about?” he demands. Terry wouldn’t tolerate any other employee speaking to him in such a way, but Victor was far more than just an employee. He had proven himself time and again, and become the closest confidante (aside from you) that he’d had since Margaret.

Hell, there were things about him that even you didn’t know, but Victor did.

“Nothing sinister,” Terry purrs, smiling wickedly. “It’s a… surprise, for Y/N.”

“What’s the occasion, Boss?” he asks, still skeptical. Terry levels him with an indignant look.

“She said I wasn’t scary, Victor.”

“Oh. Oh. Poor girl,” Victor mumbles, chuckling darkly at the implication of his words.

“Thank you, Victor.”

Victor has quite the soft spot for you, but your relationship is still antagonistic, if light-hearted. While he in no way wants to know the specifics of the dark and depraved acts Terry is sure he is imagining, anything that involves you being taken down a peg or two is more than enough justification for him to get onboard with whatever Terry has planned.

“What do you need from me, then?” Victor asks, back-to-business.

“A guarantee that everyone is out by nine without her noticing, and that no one whispers a word of this to Y/N. I’ll need you to handle the staff and sweep the place before leaving yourself; she’s going to think I’m out of town for a few days.”

Victor snorts at the lengths he’s going to, but doesn’t say a word against them; he knows better than that.

“Aren’t you worried she’s going to, I don’t know, kill you after all of this?” he asks, half-joking.

As the maniacal grin spreads across his face, Terry feels like a snake shedding its skin, and is deeply pleased by how easily this side of him is showing itself again. He knew it had always remained inside of him, but this was reassuring nonetheless.

“I’m not concerned about her reaction at all.”

---

You find him in his armory of Japanese weapons on the second floor some time later, lured by the sound of him whistling. He is absent-mindedly looking at his collection of daggers, finding the violent side he has awakened in himself temporarily appeased with handling the blades.

“You certainly seem chipper,” you comment in a husky voice, a seductive sway to your hips as you approach him, still rumpled from earlier. “What could be the cause of that, I wonder?” you ask teasingly, wrapping yourself around him.

His silly, foolish woman.

You have no idea what you’re in for.

“What indeed?” he replies coyly, kissing you on the forehead. He couldn’t give you cause for suspicion for the next day or so; it wouldn’t do to ruin the surprise.

You giggle, staring up at him so sweetly. A part of him feels bad that he’s going to break you.

But the rest of him doesn’t.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask, still pressed up against him.

“I was waiting for someone to wake up,” he replies with mock-exasperation, grinning down at you. He had forgotten how fun it was to be deceptive, to wear a mask of what someone wanted to see and lie straight to their face.

“I forgot to tell you; I have to go away for a couple of nights. It was supposed to be later in the month, but my meetings have been bumped up.”

“Anywhere fun?” you ask, clearly fishing for an invitation to accompany him. He did love you blowing him as they flew in his private plane…

“Vancouver,” he replies smoothly, raising a brow at you.

You had come to hate the rain; L.A. had spoiled you.

Sure enough, you grimace, and he internally crows in victory.

“Pass,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“But that’s so soon!” you complain, pouting at him. Terry silently vows to have this bratty image of you in mind when he’s got you pinned face down a few nights from now; he adores it (he adores all of you), but can’t deny that making this side of you beg for mercy would be particularly delicious.

“I know, darling. We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours, won’t we?” he soothes, giving you a warm smile that makes you melt.

Later that night, when he’s packing for his ‘trip,’ he slips one of the daggers into his suitcase. The rest of his… supplies would be purchased once he left.

---

Two days later…

Reader’s POV:

Terry has only been gone for a day and a half, but you still miss him terribly. While you had become far more comfortable here over the last year and a few months, it still felt strange when Terry wasn’t at home with you. He made this place feel warm and inviting; He was your home.

You still hadn’t been able to get used to having the staff members around, looking to you for instructions or guidance when Terry wasn’t around, but they had mostly learned to leave you to your own devices if Terry was away. They made the house feel less lonely, at least, just by their presence.

You have been relaxing in the bathtub for quite awhile now, and decide it’s about time you went to bed. Draining the tub, you towel yourself off, feeling deliciously warm and relaxed, and slip into a pair of comfy pyjamas. That was one nice thing about Terry travelling without you, at least. You had long since stopped wearing pyjamas to bed since moving in here; they never stayed on the whole night anyway.

As you brush your teeth, you look across the bathroom counter for your phone, frowning when you don’t see it. You move over to the tub, checking around the edge of it – maybe you had brought it over while you were running your bath and had forgotten about it – but it isn’t there either. Strange… you swear you had taken it into the bathroom with you.

Shaking your head at your own forgetfulness, you finish getting ready for bed and leave the bathroom, momentarily distracted by the moonlight shining through the window. Walking over to it, you look down to the beach with a sigh; this view always made you think of the first night you’d spent here.

You return to looking for your phone. You had definitely wanted to charge it while you slept, and it would be nice to text Terry a quick ‘Goodnight!’. He was in the same time zone, after all.

The moonlight illuminates something, reflecting the white light and catching your eye, and you move over to it. A piece of thick cardstock, folded in half, sits on the coffee table. You’re surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, and pick it up with a smile.

When you had first moved here, Terry had left you little cards like these when he had to leave, full of sweet words and occasionally filthy promises. He hadn’t done this in ages, though…

You flip open the card, and recognize his handwriting, but instead of the lengthy message you anticipated, only one word is scrawled on the inside of the note.

Run.

[^ Him plotting with Victor over the phone once he leaves for his "trip"]

---

Maniacal little fucker. I love him.

Part 2 here!

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #dark desires october #fresh start #the return of victor #eventual smut

[coffeebanana]

Summary

If a little dancing can help Ladybug de-stress, Adrien doesn't mind if she doesn't know all the steps.

Written for the @ladrienjune prompt "slow dance." Posted early because I have no self-control 😂.

Read on Ao3 or under the cut!

...

At the sound of Ladybug crashing into something—the foosball table, as it turned out—Adrien set down his pen and swivelled around in his desk chair, watching as she rubbed her hip and returned to pacing around his room. She'd shown up twenty minutes ago, insisting she didn't want to distract him from finishing his homework once she'd realized he was working on it, and had then started wandering around like she might implode if she stopped.

He'd let her be for a while—experience told him that sometimes she just needed to get something out of her system. But at this point, he doubted whatever was bothering her was something she'd manage to walk off.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, almost crashing into the sofa as well. And under other circumstances, Adrien might have smiled. He loved every side of this girl who’d long ago stolen his heart. Her inability to walk straight was no exception.

(“Besides,” she would say if he teased her about it, “what kind of bisexual would I be if I walked straight?”

And Adrien would follow up with some joke about how he should stop walking in runway shows if that was a qualification for being bi.)

But today didn't feel like the time for jokes.

“W-what?” she said.

He shrugged, following her lead when she glanced away—he didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed. But he missed having her in his line of sight—even when he’d been finishing up his math problems he’d been able to see her reflection on his darkened computer screen. So he quickly shifted his eyes back to her, smiling when he noticed she was watching too.

“Whatever’s on your mind.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say…”

“I know. I could just…tell.”

“Ugh.” She made a face as she slumped down on the couch’s armrest, falling back against the cushions a second later. “I’m the worst company today, aren’t I? Sorry. I can go if I’m too much of a distraction.”

“No!” Adrien shouted, loud enough that Ladybug sprung back to a sitting position, bracing herself on the back of the couch. He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout, I just...well, I don't want you to go. I love it when you visit, and I’m almost done with my homework anyways. It just seems like…maybe you’re upset about something?”

Ladybug stood, fiddling with her hands as she slowly made her way towards him. She stopped beside him, and for a second he—foolishly—hoped she might sit in his lap. Instead she leaned against the edge of his desk, tracing a finger over the numbers and variables he'd inked into the page.

"I'm not...upset, exactly," she said. "More like...stressed. But it's no big deal." She shrugged. "Just life stuff."

She sent him a somber smile—the kind that had I'm trying to tell you I'm fine—totally FINE! But actually I'm coming apart at the seams HAHAHA written all over it. Adrien knew it well. But he hated seeing it on someone he loved.

"Is there any way I could help?" he asked.

"I mean, if you could take down Shadow Moth, that would be great."

"No problem!" He smiled. "Be right back."

Committed to the bit, Adrien was steps away from his bathroom when a giggle cut him off. "Are you hiding him in the shower or something?"

"Psssh. No! I was trying to fake a dramatic exit."

"Through the bathroom? Were you going to jump out the window? Slide down the drain?"

"Actually, there's a secret passageway behind the mirror."

"Wait. Really?"

He laughed. "No. But good to know you believe me so easily."

"Pfft. That was the last time, Agreste."

"Uh-huh..."

Still grinning, Adrien made his way back to the desk. When he got there, he rolled the chair away in favour of leaning against the desk beside her. He wasn't bold enough to sit so close that their hands would brush, but he was rewarded anyways when Ladybug leaned her head against his shoulder. Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Or ten.

He wanted to say something else, but he didn't dare disturb the moment.

"I just have so much to do," she said. "But it's all stuff I have to wait for. Like, I'm organizing an event for my class at school, but nobody's getting back to me about what they can bring. And I promised my parents I'd help them install some new shelves, but the order keeps getting delayed. And then there's Hawk Moth, who could strike at any time. And like...the only things I could probably get started on are a few projects for school. Except those aren't due for at least a few more days, so I can't seem to make myself actually start them, and so I keep just playing things over and over in my head, trying to figure out what activity I'm going to slot in when, but there's no good answer, and ugh. I have fifteen kwamis in my room, including one I could use to see the future, but then, like, that might" —her next words were encased in bunny ears— "mess up the timeline."

She sighed, hands slumping back to her sides. "Which really means that none of the superpowers at my disposal are actually helpful, and it's just...I feel like I'm never going to get anything done, which is stupid, I know, but..."

She finished by standing up—Adrien immediately missed her warmth at his side—and throwing her hands up in frustration while she made some indecipherable noise. Then her eyes locked on his and widened, like she'd only just remembered he was there.

"I don't think it's stupid," he said gently. "I think...it's amazing you do all that and still manage to be as wonderful as you are."

His words seemed to have the opposite effect as intended, making her shoulders slump. "But I'm not wonderful. I snapped at my best friend today, and at my cru—uuuh...at my other friend." She started pacing again. "And now I'm dumping all my problems on you, and you probably think I'm crazy, and you'll never invite me back here, and..."

She listed a few more things Adrien couldn't quite make sense of—something about kids and hamsters?—but he didn't think the words were really for him anymore. Unable to watch her keep spiraling, he stood and walked over, stopping her mid-sentence by setting his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey," he said. "I'm sure everything will turn out okay."

Her gaze dropped to her feet. "Maybe..."

"Definitely."

She only sighed in response.

Adrien debated his next words carefully. Part of him wondered if he was secretly being selfish considering his next question—the idea was definitely thrilling to him. But if he were in her position, he was pretty sure it was what he would want someone to ask, even if he weren't in love with that someone. And he probably didn't have much to lose.

"Would you like a hug?"

Her eyes shot back up to his, gleaming with some emotion that sent a thrill through him. Then she nodded, and Adrien wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her.

Of course she fit well there—he'd hugged her enough as Chat Noir to know that. But he wasn't expecting the way she practically melted into his embrace, or the way his heart rate skyrocketed when her breath ruffled his T-shirt. She smelled of something sweet and floral—he'd ask her what shampoo she used if that weren't so creepy. And even the way the ends of her pigtail brushed against his arm when she turned her head was a tiny bit of ecstasy he was certain he'd remember for the rest of his life.

But the hug wasn't about him

"Do you feel better?" he asked maybe a minute later, rubbing a hand down her back. She didn't answer, so he pulled back and searched her expression. "Ladybug?"

Her face crumpled. "No. I still can't stop thinking about everything. And you're being so nice, which must make me awful, and—"

"It doesn't," he assured her. "You're still incredible."

That time, his compliment earned him a tiny smile.

"Maybe you just need a better distraction," he said, before he had to watch that smile fade. "We could...play some mecha strike?"

She shrugged, shaking her hands at her sides. "I feel too...jittery to sit down."

"Ah. Okay. I guess that means a movie's out of the question."

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I promise. We'll figure something out." Adrien bit his lip, looking around the room. So much stuff, but none of it was useful. Then an idea popped into his head that tugged a smile onto his face. "We could...dance?"

Ladybug laughed. "I can't even walk without running into something, and you want me to move other parts of my body at the same time?"

"So, we'll slow dance then. No way you mess that up."

She snorted. "No, but I can totally hurt you when I step on your feet twelve thousand times."

"Twelve thousand? That would actually be impressive."

She laughed again, then sobered. "But do you really...do you want to dance with me?"

Suddenly nervous, Adrien resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Instead he reached out his left hand, trying to project confidence despite the flutters that rippled through him when he noticed her cheeks redden. "It would be my honour."

Taking a deep breath, Ladybug reached for his hand. Adrien followed up by taking a half-step closer and hesitantly settling his free hand on her waist. After that, she seemed at a loss with what to do with her other arm, but she slowly bent her elbow and placed a hand on his chest. Instinct—from lessons he'd taken years ago—told him she should technically put her hand a little higher, but he pushed those feelings aside, trying his best to focus on nothing but her.

That wasn't exactly hard when her eyes found his.

"S-see?" he said, a little breathless. "You're already a pro."

She bit her lip, unable to conceal her smile. "We're not even moving yet."

"Well, that's not so hard either." He took a small step back. "Just one step after the other."

"One after the other," she repeated in a whisper, lowering her gaze as she followed his first step.

They went on like that for a while, in small slow steps, eventually building up some semblance of rhythm. Ladybug started humming some song at some point—one with 4/4 timing that didn't at all work for the waltz he'd been counting in his head. But somehow that made the moment even more perfect, like how when she finally stopped paying so much attention to each step, she giggled every time she stumbled into him.

She was finally smiling, and nothing else mattered

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest when they got tired of actual dancing and ended up swaying slowly behind by the window. "I feel better now."

Lost in the moment, Adrien didn't even think before bending down to kiss her head. "Me too, my lady."

...

Thanks for reading!! 💜

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ladrienjune2023 #coffeebanana fics #fluff #adrien agreste #ladybug #long post

[roonotrue]

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption - Chapter #3 Preview

(Thoughts, opinions, & critiques are welcomed! Be nice!)

Patience - Lamb

Words hurt.

The Lamb knew this. They've seen the way words cut.

The way they stun people, leave them speechless, and then send the world crashing down on them in one swift, and lethal blow.

But they've never felt it themselves until now.

They never wanted things to turn out like this. They never asked for this... They just wanted to live. To be happy. To be free.

But now?

They have the weight of everything they've built on their shoulders. They want to keep their cult safe. Their followers, and friends- dare they say, family.

They want to keep them happy, and well.

So when The One Who- Narinder... When he demanded they...

After everything they've been through, with the scar on their neck proof of their first execution, he demanded that they go through it again? And Lamb so foolishly...

Perhaps they were naive from the start to have trusted him. To have thought that in comparison to the other gods of the land that had ordered the genocide of his kind... He was... Better.

Naive to think that Narinder was different. A good god, locked away by the evil ones, and that they were some kind of shining lamb knight, meant to free him, and restore peace... It was such a childish idea.

Narinder had been no better than the Bishops. Just desperate for power, no matter how much blood was spilled to get it.

They had thought that maybe in the end, if they had spared him, he would...

They feel so stupid.

Standing outside of Narinder's shelter, back against the wall, and hand over their slammed-shut eyes, trying to stop the tears.

The former god of death would never change. He is still just so angry.

~~~

"Be patient, Lamb. He's spent so long festering in his rage, and it is going to take a long time for him to learn how to live a life without it." Ratau pat their shoulder after a long game of knucklebones that they ultimately lost.

They have spent more than half of it complaining about the feline ex-god and the hell he had given them over simply eating.

"I'm trying, but it's me! He hates me! He's never going to understand why I did what I did or that I... That I actually do care about..." Him.

That they care about him.

He had been their savior. Giving them a second chance, and a third, and fourth, and fifth. Every time they died during a crusade, he was there. To greet them, and bring them back.

Sometimes they would talk. Narinder would listen to them, give advice, laugh at their jokes...

They thought he cared... They had certainly cared. They cared so, so much.

The One Who Waits was one of the only beings who truly understood what they were going through. He had been kind to them...

~~~

It was all a facade though. They see that now. Or, hell, perhaps they had just been delusional. Perhaps it was always just a one-sided illusion, them thinking the world of someone who truly hadn't cared at all.

Perhaps they shouldn't have spared him.

Saved them both the agony they're in now...

~~~

This chapter is definitely a longer one guys, so I hope you enjoy this preview! Expect angst, mixed emotions, and a heart-wrenching confession. The full chapter will be posted tomorrow on Ao3 at noon and here on Tumblr at 8:30ish pm. Hope to see you then folks.

#cotl #cotl fanfic #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #cotl lamb #cotl the one who waits #fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfic update #archive of our own #ao3 writer #ao3 #cotl narilamb #narilamb #narinder x lamb #cult of the lamb narinder #follower narinder #the one who waits #cotl the lamb #the lamb

[moodymelanist]

Where The Light Won't Find You Chapter Two

So. It's me again. Evil, unhinged Nesta is so sexy and I can't get her out of my head so... here we are with another update. I really have no posting schedule in mind for this fic but I certainly won't be updating it so quickly the further we get into it LOL.

Read on AO3 here!

Chapter Two

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Cassian

Cassian sighed heavily as he began his flight back to Velaris. He’d spent the rest of the day in Illyria, needing some time to cool off alone after his latest string of failures with Nesta, and was on his way back the next morning after a quick breakfast. He thought maybe Nesta would appreciate the extra rest, perhaps be a little less upset with him, but he wasn’t getting his hopes up; she’d made her feelings perfectly clear.

It had been a special kind of hell to finally have her so close to him, to see her every day, only for it to make her want even less to do with him. He felt every scowl and muttered insult like a shot to the heart, and no matter how hard he tried, she refused to leave that stupid rock and take his hand. 

Amren had said to keep reaching out, to keep offering his hand, but it felt so pointless already. How could he be expected to help a female who would let herself waste away out of spite?

Spending some time away from her was as much a break for him as he hoped it had been for her. Cassian hated to admit that he needed a chance to breathe away from someone he cared about so deeply, but he also wasn’t an idiot. He’d been pushing Nesta hard, even though she fought him at every turn. They both needed that time. 

Time. He’d foolishly offered it to her only to spend most of it away from her, so he hoped eventually she’d allow him to reclaim all the minutes and hours and days they’d spent apart. 

As he soared over the Illyrian countryside, he could only hope that she could one day forgive him for wasting so much of it. 

When Cassian landed on the balcony at the House, he immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t expecting someone to be waiting for him, but the House was eerily quiet as he walked inside. “Hello?”

No response. Quickening his steps, he made his way to the stairs and stomped down a flight of them to see if Nesta was in her room. She wasn’t there, but her bed had been made and the room had clearly been cleaned. He couldn’t bring himself to actively rifle through her things – he knew just how much it bothered her to have her privacy invaded – but her scent had the edges of staleness to it, as though she hadn’t been by in a while.

Think, Cassian, he told himself as he exited her room and gently closed the door behind her. Where could she be?

He checked the entire House from top to bottom, from the little library she liked to read in to the dining room to even the room where they’d hidden all the alcohol. His heart sank further as he didn’t find her, and although he didn’t think she was physically strong enough to make her way down the ten thousand steps, it didn’t stop him from flying down to check. 

“Fuck,” he swore, struggling to breathe as he realized she wasn’t here. Was he such a bastard to her that she’d decided she couldn’t take it anymore? Was living with him truly such a horrible fate that she ran away instead?

Cassian focused his energy on flying to Feyre and Rhys’ river home after that, hoping that maybe someone had come by and forced Nesta to socialize there in his absence. If not, maybe someone would be around to give him answers.

When he walked inside, he heard conversation coming from the kitchen, and he followed the noise to find Elain, Nuala, and Cerridwen talking amongst themselves while Elain was braiding some dough into an intricate shape. 

He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face at the sight of the wrong Archeron sister. Maybe Elain could offer some insight, even though she and Nesta hadn’t spoken in gods-knew how long. “Ladies.”

“Cassian,” Elain replied, looking up at the sound of his entrance. She tilted her head as she studied him, reminding him so much of Nesta that it made him ache. “Did you have something you wanted to ask me?”

“I…” he trailed off, not quite sure what to say. He hardly spent any time with Elain, and from what he’d heard from Feyre, she’d been avoiding the river estate like the plague ever since their intervention with Nesta. He supposed Elain must have decided to make an appearance for a reason, so it was better to get straight to the point and see if she could help. “Have you seen Nesta?”

“Well, I’ve Seen her,” she answered, emphasizing the word so he knew she meant she was talking about one of her Cauldron-given visions. Unbothered by his shocked expression, she looked back down at her project and moved on to braiding a second pile of dough. “But I haven’t seen her physically in a long time. You know that.”

“Did you See anything interesting?” he asked. He wanted to hit something in frustration the longer he spoke with her, he was so desperate for answers. Every passing moment without knowing if Nesta was safe was almost physically painful, and the sooner he could make sure she was alright, the better.

Elain just shrugged, the portrait of serenity. “She’s fine where she is, if that’s what you’re worried about. Or at least, she will be. Eventually.”

“You know where she is?” Cassian strode forward until he was touching the opposite side of the counter and leaned forward, barely noticing as Cerridwen and Nuala made their way out of the room. “Where?”

“Why should I tell you that?” Elain questioned, looking back up at him. Her tone was perfectly pleasant, but her expression had gone so cold it was a wonder he didn’t freeze where he stood. “It’s not like any of you truly care about her.” 

“What? We’re doing this because we care about her,” he replied, his unease only continuing to grow. He knew she didn’t agree with their plan to force Nesta to start taking care of herself, but he thought Elain would at least tell him where her sister was. “She wasn’t in the House when I got back.”

She flipped the dough over and slammed her hands into it. “You should talk to Morrigan.” 

“Thanks, Elain,” he told her. He made his way to the large sitting room Mor liked to spend most of her time in, finding her lounging across one of the couches with a letter in hand. “Mor.”

“Hey, stranger,” Mor replied, looking up with a teasing smile. “Long time no see.”

“Ha, ha,” he deadpanned. He dropped down into his usual armchair and fidgeted with one of his siphons before continuing. “Elain said I should ask you if you’ve seen Nesta since yesterday?”

As expected, Mor rolled her eyes at the mere mention of the eldest Archeron. “Yes. What about her?”

“She wasn’t in the House when I got back, and she obviously isn’t here either,” he explained, forcing himself to speak slowly and calmly. Just because Elain said to talk to Mor didn’t automatically mean something terrible had happened. “Did she say anything about leaving?”

“I took her to the Hewn City after breakfast yesterday,” she answered casually. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You what?” he exclaimed. He knew Mor didn’t particularly care for Nesta, but to leave her in the Court of Nightmares was unspeakably cruel, especially given Mor’s own history there. She knew better than anyone how dangerous it was. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she asked me to?” Mor scoffed. She flipped some of her golden hair off her shoulders, revealing more of the dark red ensemble she had on. “Relax, Cass. I was going to check on her after a few days to see if she’d changed her mind.”

“Relax?” he echoed. How in the name of the Mother was he supposed to relax when she’d put Nesta’s life at risk? He couldn’t help but imagine any number of scenarios ending in Nesta even more traumatized than she already was, or worse, dead. “Don’t fucking ‘Cass’ me about this—”

“I mean honestly,” she interrupted, looking at him as if he’d grown two heads. “I know you have a soft spot for her, but she asked me to do this. How am I in the wrong for listening?”

“You know she’s not in her right mind,” he seethed. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the terrible things that could be happening to Nesta in that awful place, how terrified she must be even though she wouldn’t dare show it. “I can’t believe you!”

“Why do you defend her so much?” Mor put her letter down and sat up straight, frowning as she stared at him. “She’s insulted and belittled you repeatedly, spewed venom at anyone who’s tried to help her, and embarrassed this Court countless times over. Need I continue?”

“Because she lost everything during the War?” Cassian matched his friend’s posture, crossing his arms to keep from punching something. “Because she’s going through what we all went through after our first battles? Because she’s only twenty-five? Because she’s my—”

He cut himself off swiftly, not daring to finish the rest of that sentence. Instead, he brought up something that had been bothering him for months now. “Why do you attack her so much, Mor? What has she done to you that’s been so terrible?”

Mor scowled fiercely but mercifully didn’t address what he’d almost said aloud. “She treats us like scum even though we’ve been nothing but kind to her. She let her fourteen-year-old sister go into the woods. She only came to Solstice last year because Feyre paid her rent!”

“What has she done to you that’s been so terrible?” he repeated. He wouldn’t deny that Nesta was no Elain, but he’d never understood why Mor treated her so harshly. As far as he knew, Nesta had never done anything to personally offend the blonde, other than a comment about her dress.

“I don’t think she’s good enough for you,” Mor admitted after a minute.

Cassian’s temper spiked for an entirely different reason, his wings flaring as he jerked back in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I know it’s not my place—” she started.

“You’re right. It’s not.” He was having absolutely none of it. Mor had taken Nesta to the Hewn City and she didn’t think Nesta was good enough for him? “You have no right to tell me who’s good enough for me. I can make that decision on my own.”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend,” she said, her voice icier than normal. “I’m just trying to protect you. Is that so wrong?”

“I’m a fucking grown male,” he snapped, his siphons warm against the backs of his hands as his anger continued to rise. “I can take care of myself just fine without your meddling.”

“I’m not meddling,” she exclaimed. “You ruined that relationship without any help from me, Cassian. Don’t act like this is my fault!”

“Like you’re some kind of relationship expert—”

Mor opened her mouth to reply with something equally horrible, her brown eyes flashing, but their argument was interrupted by Rhys and Feyre entering the room. 

Feyre’s gray-blue eyes darted between Cassian and Mor as she quickly picked up on the tension in the room. “What’s… going on?”

Cassian forced himself to turn away from Mor, taking a deep breath before he looked at Feyre. “Nesta’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Feyre asked in confusion. “Isn’t she up at the House?”

Rhysand cocked his head, no doubt searching for Nesta’s mind. “No. She isn’t.”

“Fuck,” Feyre cursed, closing her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath of her own. “Is that what you two were arguing about?”

“Mor thought it would be appropriate to leave your sister in the Hewn City for a few days,” Cassian answered with gritted teeth. 

“She asked me to do it!” Mor exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “She’s a resourceful girl. I’m sure she’s just fine.”

“You don’t give a shit about whether she’s fine or not,” Cassian growled. “You didn’t even bother to tell me that you’d left her there!”

Mor sighed. “I didn’t know how long you’d be in Illyria for, and I didn’t see the point in getting you all worked up for nothing.”

“I wasn’t here, but they were,” he snapped, pointing at Feyre and Rhys. “You know we’re all trying to help her. Did you even bother to tell Feyre what you’d done with her sister?”

“Not only your sister, but your High Lady,” Rhys pointed out as he finally joined the conversation. “Cassian’s right, Mor. You made a mistake.”

Mor stood from her spot on the couch and approached Feyre, taking her paler hands. “I’m sorry, Feyre. It was a lapse in judgment, and it won’t happen again.”

Of course she apologizes to Feyre and not me, Cassian thought bitterly. He knew he was broadcasting his thoughts too loudly from the pinched expression that came across Rhys’ face, but he was too riled up to care at the moment. 

“I appreciate that,” Feyre responded after a moment, squeezing Mor’s hands in hers before letting go. “Which is why you’re going to and get her back. Immediately.”

“Of course,” Mor agreed. 

“I’m coming with you,” Cassian immediately jumped in. There was no way he was trusting Mor with Nesta’s safety, not after everything she’d just said. Even if they hadn’t gotten into their argument, he wouldn’t entrust Nesta’s safety to anyone else, her opinion of him be damned. There was no safer place for her than with him. 

“It’s better you go together,” Rhys agreed, shooting Cassian a knowing look. “I know you can handle this on your own, Mor, but perhaps she’ll be more… amenable to Cassian.”

If Mor had a retort to that, she clearly swallowed it in favor of keeping the peace. Funny how she only wanted to do that now that Feyre and Rhys were present.

“I have no idea what you’ll see when you’re down there, but the ultimate goal is to bring her back,” Feyre told them. “She probably went into the first place she could find that would serve her and passed out somewhere.”

“Let’s just hope she makes this easy for us,” Mor responded, not daring to rise to the bait in front of Cassian. 

“If she knows what’s good for her, she will,” Rhys said. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

About an hour later, Cassian and Mor found themselves wandering underground through the Hewn City. The silence was tense between them, but they didn’t dare speak aloud; there was no telling who was listening. But even if had been wise to speak freely, he had nothing to say to her.

He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the cruelty of it all. He knew Mor and Nesta had some weird thing between them, but he’d never expected it to escalate to this level. How could she justify doing this to someone, especially when they were in the middle of trying to help Nesta come back to herself?

While a not insignificant part of him was pissed with Mor, a far larger part of him was terrified of what they might find down here. He couldn’t remember ever being this scared for someone before; he knew on the most basic level that Nesta was still alive, but that said nothing about how they might find her. Would Keir have thrown her in a cell? Would he have let the wicked have their way with her? Worse, would he have done something to set her off – something to make her release some of that immense power she pretended she didn’t have access to anymore?

“Something’s not right,” Mor breathed once they came to the large doors of the receiving room. Even if they hadn’t been blasted off their hinges, it wasn’t hard to immediately sense how wrong everything felt. “Normally there’s guards posted here.”

They hadn’t seen a single living person since they’d begun their descent, and as Cassian spied the guards’ prone forms, that assessment hadn’t changed. Whatever they’d been hit with had blasted away their enchanted armor like it was nothing, and his blood ran cold as he realized some of them didn’t have the youthful appearances he expected to see.

“By the Mother,” Mor said quietly. Both of them took a few steps over to the closest guards and swore in surprise at what they found. Some of the guards looked old, with wrinkles and gray hairs where smooth skin and dark hair had been before. “What did she do?”

“I don’t know,” Cassian answered grimly. He’d never been scared of Nesta, but it was hard to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. “Let’s keep going. The faster we find her…”

Mor just nodded and magically reinforced her armor. Cassian wouldn’t give into that kind of fear, but he would be lying if he didn’t call on his own magic, his siphons casting a faint scarlet glow as they kept moving. “My father didn’t usually spend much time in here. There’s more rooms back here.”

They kept moving, swiftly covering the rest of the receiving room before ducking into a hallway that would lead to Keir’s area of the Hewn City. They didn’t come across any servants, but they at least didn’t discover any new bodies until they came to a stop outside of Keir’s wing. 

One, two, Cassian mouthed silently. On three, Cassian flung open the door and conjured a scarlet shield to cover their entrance, but no attacks came. There were more dead guards in Keir’s sitting room, and his heart was pounding in his chest as they followed the trail through to Keir’s chambers.

Nesta’s back was to them when they finally found her. She was just standing in the middle of the bedroom, hardly even moving as she tilted her head and listened to a song only she could hear. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, falling halfway down her back in a series of bronze tangles. Cassian could tell the gray gown she had on had been clean at one point, but even from behind he could tell how dirty and stained it was. 

“Nesta,” Cassian said softly, not wanting to startle her. Mor shot him a not-so-subtle glare that he ignored as he took a few steps closer. “Are you alright?”

No response. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

“I told you not to call me that,” Nesta said after a few minutes of eerie silence. She finally turned to face them and his blood ran cold at the sight of her, at how much worse she looked from the front. Blood soaked the front of her gown and singe marks had destroyed the fabric that was supposed to be covering her arms. She was holding a crown of bones that he’d never seen before, running her fingers over their brittle ridges, and he was horrified at just how many bones he could recognize. 

Cassian also had a very bad feeling about whose bones those were, and judging by Mor’s choked-off gasp, he suspected his guess was correct. 

As he looked into Nesta’s face and saw how those gray-blue eyes had been replaced by pure silver fire, he was suddenly and viciously reminded of the Bone Carver’s words that day in the Prison. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards? What came out was not what went in…

“What did you do, Nesta?” Cassian asked quietly. 

“What your arrogant High Lord wouldn’t,” Nesta replied with a truly chilling smile. She stopped touching the crown of bones in favor of placing it atop her head and he realized her fingers were stained black from all the power she must’ve burned through. “Did you know how much suffering he turned a blind eye to down here? Or were you all in on his disgusting little games?”

“They’re all evil,” Mor jumped in with a fierce glare. “It’s a twisted, wretched place—”

“Are you truly so naive to think,” Nesta interrupted without dropping that unnerving smile, “that you were the only dreamer in this place? Or have you simply deluded yourself into believing you were the chosen one?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Mor shot back. “But it certainly didn’t give you the right to come down here and take what you wanted.”

Nesta just laughed. “No, what I took from the Cauldron did.”

If Nesta noticed the way Mor’s hand had drifted toward the hilt of the golden sword she’d just summoned, she didn’t say anything about it. Cassian shot his friend a warning look, praying Mor wouldn’t escalate things further. There had already been so much death here tonight, and as much as he wanted to keep her safe, he didn’t trust that Nesta had full control of her immense power. 

“Did you know that there’s no magic imbued in the throne down here?” Nesta continued on, voice deceptively light. 

“Mor rules over the Court of Nightmares,” Cassian said back without answering her question. He didn’t like where this was going any more than Mor probably did. “The throne has been in her family for generations, same as Rhys.”

“Unlike Rhysand’s throne, this one doesn’t have any magic involved in the transfer of power,” Nesta continued on, sneering at his brother’s name. “I’ve already killed a king. What’s another one on the list?”

“So you decided to slay my father on a whim?” Mor asked, her voice shaking with anger. “Because you could? Is that it?”

“Because nobody else would,” Nesta told her with an unimpressed roll of her eyes. “He barely even put up a fight, you know. It was harder to put this little crown together than to snuff him out.”

“That was my death to take, my soul to reap,” Mor snapped. She unsheathed her golden sword and pointed it at Nesta, her grip on the weapon as steady as her gaze. “You had no right to do that, Nesta.”

The temperature in the room plummeted as Nesta called upon her own magic in response, wreathing her hands in silver flames. “What do you know of right, Morrigan?” 

“Mor, no,” Cassian shouted, desperate to be heard over the sudden rumbling in the mountain. A giant crack opened in the floor as dozens of shades and spirits poured into the room, forming a protective ring around Nesta, and he grabbed Mor’s arm to yank her backwards into relative safety. 

“You have two choices, Lord of Bloodshed and Warrior of Truth,” Nesta said, drawing herself up to her full height once the room had settled. The black stains on her fingers had spread upward from that last summoning, and Cassian’s stomach sank as he realized she’d been performing some kind of necromancy. “Either you bend the knee and recognize my claim on the throne, or you leave now and don’t return.”

“Bend the knee?” Mor repeated, scoffing. “You think you can come down here and usurp the throne?”

A queen, as my sister once was, Cassian heard in the Bone Carver’s voice once more. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.

“I am not a being who enjoys repeating herself,” Nesta responded with a tilt of her head. Some of the spirits surrounding her copied the motion in an eerie pantomime. “Were my instructions unclear, Morrigan?”

“No,” Cassian cut in before Mor could make the situation even worse. It was like all battle sense had fled her mind at the sight of Nesta, but he couldn’t afford for them both to get trapped down here. He wasn’t sure what Nesta would do with him, but he was under no delusions about the animosity between the two females. “They were perfectly clear, Nesta.”

“I assume you’ll be leaving, then.” Nesta swept her arms outward and the spirits cleared a path to the closest exit. Cassian fought hard not to make a shocked noise when one of them brushed his arm, the feeling similar to plunging it in an ice bath. “Am I correct in my assumption?”

“Yes,” Mor answered through gritted teeth. Cassian relaxed his grip on her arm; from the rigid set of her muscles, she’d clearly returned to her senses. “We’ll be going now.”

“If you come to this place again without accepting my terms, I won’t be so gracious,” Nesta told them, the flames in her eyes crackling with energy. She gave them one last disdainful look as a pair of spirits glided over to the doors and opened them. “Now run along, little dreamers. I have business to attend to.”

Read Chapter 3 here!

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @nestaspegasus | @a-court-of-valkyries | @rowaelinismyotp | @live-the-fangirl-life | @sv0430 | @brieq | @positivewitch | @sayosdreams | @nesquik-arccheron | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @vidalinav | @swankii-art-teacher | @that-little-red-head | @secretlovelybeauty | @starksravings | @dustjacketmusings | @katekatpattywack | @claralady | @gwynethhberdara | @duskandstarlight | @arinbelle | @vanserrass | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @houseofcalores | @imsointobooks | @silvernesta | @planet-faerie | @teagoddess99 | @champanheandluxxury | @catplayinvioline | @flora-shadowshine | @nerdperson524 | @story-scribbler | @vasudharaghavan | @dealfea | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @charming-butt-insane | @highqueenofelfhame | @julemmaes | @oversizedbats | @readingismyonlyhobby | @milkkand-honey | @wildlyglittering | @thewayshedreamed | @goddess-aelin | @sweet-pea1 | @jmoonjones

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #moodymelanistwrites #court of nightmares fic #evil!Nesta #evil!Nessian

[loveyou-4-life]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓—brendan brisson

request: just wanted to say i’m in love with the series already and can’t wait for the other chapters to come out, but maybe being in a secret relationship with briss and maybe exchanging secret glances around when you go out to party or a bar and stuff, and one of the guys tests his patience by flirting with you, would love to see a possessive briss.

warnings: mature language and mention of alcohol and sex. lower case intended. not proof read.

authors note: glad you’re enjoying the series and hope you like this since it’s my first time writing a request. i had a little too much fun with this tho.

masterlist

BRENDAN BRISSON. the hockey player you’ve foolishly fallen for.

maybe you did fall first but he fell harder, you weren’t sure how did your fling turn into something serious but it definitely effected you for the better.

everything about you and briss screamed soulmates, it’s just nobody actually knew you were soulmates.

the “hiding” began when briss said he wasn’t ready, you waited for him. but its been 8 long months now and still you weren’t out for the world to see how much you love each other.

of course you were okay with waiting for him when he was ready, but he had no problem putting an arm around a girls’ shoulder and post it on social media.

you started doubting yourself a little bit, thinking he was ashamed but you knew deep down he loved you too much to be ashamed.

a fight started because of this and that’s what lead you to here, in a bar with your bestfriends and your second drink in your hand, staring at your boyfriend across the bar.

the eye contact.

it brought you memories when you first started dating, it was always like this tho. Never lasted too long for anyone to notice but never lasted too short for you to not signal something.

he was back from vegas, and still he was trying to convince you to move with him back there. but how would you move there when everything was here, your friends,your job.

why would you go to las vegas if you go to hiding from the world?

— 2 hours ago —

“I just don’t understand whats the problem with this” He examined. His spot on the bed cold now when he left your grip.

“You don’t understand? Bren why would I want to go to vegas when I have no one there” You said. Practically fuming, he wasn’t getting it. Why go there so you could hide and start all over again.

“You have me” He yelled. You flinched Brendan rarely shouted.

“No i don’t have you , i have you when we’re just us two but i don’t have you when i’m in public Bren. This isn’t something that i want to do in the first place and all i’ve done all year was accomplish your needs and this is the one thing i can’t do” A long pause. Too silent and the tension could be cut with a knife. He stared at you , more like glared.

“Do not hold that against me, i told you i’m not ready for that yet” He snapped sitting up. You sighed , closing your eyes and putting your head down.

“And i get that but Brendan you can’t just expect me to pack up my life here so i can go back to hiding and being lonely in a place like Vegas” You whispered softly. It was 3 in the morning you didn’t have the energy to fight , and with shouting like Brendans you were going to be woken up by pounding on your door by your landlord.

“You still are hiding here”

“Brendan you know its different when I have friends here and i have a job, and i don’t feel less because actually people like me here and aren’t ashamed of me so thats en-” the words just came out of your mouth. you stopped yourself from continuing when you realized what you said. you had your doubts.

The look on Brendans face showed hurt, you were in the wrong by saying that but you were in the right by saying your feeling. It had been on your mind for a couple weeks from now and it was bound to come out some way.

“I am not ashamed of you” he spat. Grabbing his jacket and walking out of the door before you had moved quickly to reach him.

“I-” before you could finish your sentence the slamming of the door was heard around the apartment, your eyes filled up with tears and they slowly starting spilling out.

What have I done?

— Present —

Your thoughts were interrupted by a hand on your shoulder and a kiss being placed on your cheek. You turn around ready to fight back but soon held back when you meet Bords’ smirk.

“What are you doing” You question suspiciously. He smirked getting too close to your face as you got away from him.

“Relax just trying make your boy jealous a little” He whispered in your ear. You were confused but then he made a pointed look behind you, you turned your head meeting a very angry looking Briss. How did he know?

You turned , your mouth opened to explain. “Me and him don’t… I mean we don’t… He and I aren’t like that…” You said to Bords. He chuckled holding up his finger to shush you. You gave him a weird look, your eyebrows came together.

“I know” he said sipping his drink. You shot up.

“You know?”

“Yes i know i mean if I didn’t know I probably would be blind but it’s cool Y/n/n” He said. You were still stunned tho , he took the seat behind you making you look up to see a Briss’ eyes behind him.

His eyes spoke anger and his jaw clenched, you never saw this side of Briss. The side of how he was jealous. This kinda eye contact was going to end up with you guys fighting again later tonight if Bords didn’t stop.

“You’re playing a dangerous game” You said to a smirking Bords. You could sense he was planning something that could possibly end with him having a broken nose.

You knew Briss loved Bords but you also knew what extent Briss would go to for you.

“I’ll be fine i won’t cross the line now laugh like i said something funny” He encourages. Listening to him , you laughed out loud, faking it. You knew any other person would believe it but if Briss saw that he would call bullshit.

“Good now I’m gonna put my hands on your hips for at least fifteen seconds, you okay with that?” He questioned your consent. You nodded at him, he gently placed his tatted hands on your hips and your eyes went to behind him trying to find Brendan. But he was gone.

“Keep your hands to yourself Bords” A hand was placed in your waist, but this time it was hands you always get butterflies when you came in contact with. Brendan.

You try to hide a smile forming on your face by his clearly possessive tone. Bords took his hand off your waist, a smirk appearing in his face.

“Why should I?” He questioned. Brendans grip tightened. He knew it was time, and he actually felt ready. I guess it was a moment decision.

“Because shes taken” He said. You gave Bords a tight lipped smile, his plan worked.

“By who? she never mentioned to have a boyfriend” He smirked teasing him. He was trying to get it out of him.

You were starting to feel bad, what if he really wasn’t ready?. Pressuring him to tell Bords was bad and made you feel guilty especially if that’s not what your partner wanted.

Before you could interfere, Brendan said the words you wanted to hear for weeks now. “By me, shes taken by me” He pulled you into his chest.

“That’s all I wanted to get out of you man” Bords took his drink and slipped off the bar stool. Brendan taking his seat.

“Asshole I knew he isn’t that funny to make you laugh like that and besides that wasn’t your real laugh anyway , you always make that snorkel pig sound accidentally at the end” He examined. Bringing your chair closser and putting his head in your shoulder. You flushed embarrassed at the comment but relieved nobody heard him.

“I’m sorry I pressured you into telling him if you want I’m sure if we tell him not to tell anyone he wouldn-” You get cut off by a kiss, a kiss by Brendan. In public place. You were stunned at first but kissed him back.

“Don’t be, You’re mine already just now I get to tell the world that.” He whispered against your lips. A smile appeared on your face, his forhead resting against yours.

“Never leave home angry Bren. Ever again, okay?” You muttered. A worried look on your face. He nodded a small soft smile in his lips.

“Now will you give moving to Vegas with me a thought please?” he questioned. Pulling you to kiss your forehead. You nodded as you put your head in his chest.

You felt eyes on you wondering if people saw you, your questions were answered when you heard Lukes voice say “Did Briss just kiss Y/n or am i too drunk?”

—

#brendan brisson imagine #brendan brisson x reader #brendan brisson #briss #briss imagine #umich #thomas bordeleau #luke hughes #mark estapa #nick blankenburg #kent johnson #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #vegas golden knights #ethan edwards #owen power

[itsemilyofc]

Haters can hate but reposting this as its own post so that it's not entirely under the long post cut. Re: KakaYama Week 2022

Soooo many great prompts this year! Too many for me to stick with my initial plan of just one, multichap fic. Here’s a quick preview of what you can (tentatively) expect from me. These are in various states of progress, so not all of them have summaries or even snippets yet. My hope is that I can get most if not all of them out during KkYm week. The two big iffy ones are Stripped Screws, which is still largely just a concept, and Working Title: Losing Tenzō, which has been a wip for so long that I can't say with confidence I will be able to get it where I want it to be.

Deep Summer in Willow Oak

AU, 7 chapter fic Prompts: Envy/Kindness, Gluttony/Temperance, Modern AU, Greed/Charity, First Times, Pride/Humility, Sloth/Diligence, Stolen Moments, Lust/Chastity, Vows, Wrath/Patience Rating: Explicit Summary: Dense summer air trapped under an unbroken canopy of leafy branches. No rush, no obligations, and certainly no cell phone service. Though it’d been fourteen years since he had seen it last, Willow Oak was almost exactly as Kakashi remembered it, even down to the ice cream selection at the local gas station.

This week-long vacation was supposed to be just the break he needed to clear his head so that he could return home to New York prepared to handle the mounting problems in his life.

But he hadn’t considered for even a moment that Tenzō would still be in Willow Oak. Tenzō, with whom he’d spent the countless summers of his youth, racing through the woods, floating in the lake, and sharing secrets in the dark. Tenzō, who had done a lot of growing up in the intervening years, it turned out.

And now, after a week of rediscovering their friendship and uncovering something new and promising, Kakashi is realizing that Willow Oak has problems of its own, and no matter how long he stays, the ones he left behind in New York will be waiting for him when he returns.

The Debt Collector

One-Shot Prompts: Day 1 - "You Deserved it" Rating: Mature Snippet: If he’d taken even a second to consider his words, Tenzō would have never have had to bear witness to his stuttering, incoherent admission. His feelings and failures spilling out haphazardly. His flaws catching on the harsh fluorescent light of the locker room, the reflecting flash enough to jolt anyone out of respecting him.

But Kakashi hadn’t been in control. He hadn’t considered. And Tenzō had stood across from him, twenty years old and forcibly disillusioned as Kakashi had burdened him with the worst of it.

To Tenzō's credit, he hadn’t let the disappointment show on his face. He had fetched a first aid kit and stood silently by Kakashi’s side as he had washed and bandaged his hand. When he had finished, Tenzō had asked him what he could do to help.

Kakashi had placed his bandaged hand on Tenzō's shoulder, squeezing once before letting it fall to his side again as he exited the locker room.

At that time, Kakashi had foolishly thought that would be the end of it. Sure, Tenzō wouldn’t see him as the bastion of surety that he maybe had before, but perhaps that would be a good lesson for him. Kakashi had been telling him for years, after all, to stop looking up to him.

Tenzō hadn’t let it go, though. And after every mission Kakashi had been subjected to offers for company, all of which he had rejected. And every new bandage the following day had been unmistakably scrutinized by Tenzō's watchful stare.

Until finally they were here. At some kind of tipping point.

Watch

One-Shot, Smut Prompts: Day 2 - Late Nights Rating: Explicit From the outline:

Tenzō scoffs. “Kakashi. No. The protocols are clear. Someone has to be keeping watch, undistracted, while anyone is sleeping.

"Hm. You’re right.” Kakashi says defeatedly, and Tenzō nods approvingly. His eyes scan the trees again finding nothing.

Two seconds later, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone reaches his ears. His head whips around to see Kakashi, hand disappeared down the front of his pants

“Senpai! What are you doing?!” he hisses

Kakashi’s right eye crinkles closed in a smile. “It’s like you said. The protocols only require one person on watch. You’ve got it. I trust you."

This reminds Tenzō of his duty and he faces forward again but he can feel that his cheeks are hot. He’s grateful for the dark. “So what?! You’re just going to…?!”

The log is shifting beneath him and Tenzō's brain provides plenty of possible explanations for what is going on next to him that he can’t block out.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing. Stay vigilant, Kohai.”

Working Title: New Challenges

One-Shot Prompts: Day 4 - First Times Rating: G First Draft Snippet (unedited):

“Senpai, I’ve never used one of these before either. Should we maybe ask Yugao?” Tenzō hated to admit that Kakashi had called upon the wrong former team member, but he knew when to admit that he was out of his depth.

“That might be insulting to her, I think,” Kakashi replied. “To assume she would know because she’s a woman.”

Tenzō supposed that was true. “Maybe Itachi, then? He lives at home.”

“No.” Kakashi said definitively. “I am not asking Uchiha how to use a washing machine.”

Tenzō understood, then, why he had been summoned. It was not because he possessed some skill set that Kakashi admired. It was because he was the person his senpai would be least embarrassed to admit this truth to.

Tenzō felt a bit deflated at this realization. But then, Kakashi trusted him. He knew that Tenzō's opinion of him would not be tarnished by this. And Tenzō would not let this show of trust go unappreciated. He would help. He would figure out how to use the washing machine.

“Okay,” Tenzō said, full of determination. “What do we know so far?”

The relief in Kakashi’s expression bolstered Tenzō's confidence even more. He watched as his senpai pressed a round button on the device, causing it to beep to life, green lights blinking on in various places.

“This turns it on,” Kakashi said.

“Yes,” Tenzō said, studying the display with as much scrutiny as he would a mission brief scroll. “I understand.”

“And then this dial…” Kakashi continued, spinning the dial in question a few times so that Tenzō could see the way the green light followed it, indicating the available settings. “You have to make a choice with it. But I don’t understand any of these options.”

Tenzō frowned, leaning closer to see for himself what the choices were.

“Tenz, there are six options, and not a single one of them is ‘wash clothes,’ Kakashi said, and the frustration in his voice told him that his senpai had struggled with this on his own for quite some time before calling in for reinforcement.

Tenzō pointed to the option on the far right “This one has the word ‘wash’ in it,” he observed.

“It does,” Kakashi agreed. “It says ‘hand wash’, though, which is…perplexing. I’m trying to avoid hand washing. Why is that even a choice?”

Tenzō had to agree. He reviewed the other options. Most of them were nonsense combinations of words as far as he was concerned.

“Permanent press…” he mumbled to himself. “Sounds somewhat severe.”

Stripped Screws

One-Shot Prompts: Day 5 - Soulmates Rating: Not yet rated Concept Snippet (unedited): Tenzō wondered what it was worth, one more try. Second chances were all well and good but at what point did the damage caused by failed previous attempts render a project untenable? He and Kakashi had tried to make it work countless times over the years. Would the pieces even fit together properly anymore? Were the screws not stripped bare by now?

Working Title: Losing Tenzō

One-Shot Prompts: Day 7 - Vows Rating: Not yet rated First Draft Snippet (unedited):

“I don’t need a team. I can go by myself,” Kakashi insisted, still standing at attention in front of the Fifth Hokage’s desk. His square shoulders and straight spine contrasting noticeably with Tsunade’s own hunched form.

“And what?” Tsunade demanded, tongue sharp enough to cut through flesh. “Get yourself killed before we can even get our feet under ourselves? I need you here and you know it.”

Kakashi gritted his teeth. “I know, but if I can find him, if you could have us both at your disposal-” “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. And we don’t even know where he is.” It was obvious that Tsunade was losing what little patience she had. Kakashi could see a vein in her forehead pulsating threateningly.

“I can find him.” Kakashi said the words confidently, though there was admittedly nothing to back them up. Where there was a will, though, there was a way. And Kakashi had the full force of the Will of Fire within him, if nothing else.

Tsunade let out a frustrated growl. “I said no, Kakashi! I expect better of you. Of all people you should know we have to put the village first! You should know how to deal with losing a comrade!”

“Tenzō's not lost! He’s still alive!” Kakashi found himself at the edge of Tsunade’s desk without having even consciously made the choice to break rank. His palms were pressed flat on the mahogany surface, the structure creaked in protest.

“He-he’s still-” Kakashi couldn’t get the words out. The sentences wouldn’t come together, their syntax unzipping apart even as he tried to articulate them. “They didn’t kill him- they- they took him, and-and that means they wouldn’t-”

A soft, manicured hand on top of his own quieted Kakashi’s rambling.

#kakayama #kakayamaweek2022 #kkym #kkyam #kktn

[nazuna-tunnel-vision]

sometimes i think, "this enstars character is kind of boring, they're literally just vibing" and then i realize that it's because enstars is a story where you need to really use your brain and connect a lot of dots. when it comes to characters whose stories i actually spent time reading and thinking about, i can write paragraphs about what core internal struggle they are struggling with. but i come up short for characters i don't spend time thinking about, even if they appear in all the same stories.

for example,

Ritsu: my family has some kind of genetic disease that makes us extremely weak to the sunlight. this disease is particularly severe in me, so socializing with others was pointlessly difficult for most of my life. i therefore had only maa-kun and my elder brother with me. then my older brother disappeared for reasons i could not understand and i've had abandonment issues since. also, because my elder brother of 10 months is a genius who has acted like an adult figure for me (and many other actual adults), i have problems with emotional maturity. combined with the difficulty even staying awake, i often don't do anything to solve my problems and just stew and feel bad about it. in !! I am actively working to solve problems as I see them, but I instead get extremely stressed because I care so much about so many things and people now.

Izumi Sena: I have problems with perfectionism. I have very high expectations for myself so I work very hard. I am also a huge softie and love looking after others but I've seen Shit Go Down when I was a child model and then again in high school. I am now too scared to outwardly be nice, so I am mean and unhinged around the people I care about and act self-centred when really I just want the people I care about to be safe and happy. Also I adopt every single person younger than me, because I was born to be a mom friend, but I can't let anyone know I'm a softie. In addition, I had a major role in my first and (at the time) only friend becoming a hikkikomori and I carry a lot of guilt about that. I continue to have Problems because I am Izumi "even if it's impossible I will achieve it through Sheer Will" Sena and I have managed to perfect the art of expressing my emotions (sometimes by being rather unhinged) without actually addressing any of the trauma they stem from.

Leo: I am full of love for others and give it out unconditionally, even though most people in the world would not give me love in return. I have trouble figuring out when and how to stop giving parts of myself away. Because Sena is a kind guy who is also really good at looking after me, I thought it would be okay if it was him. I basically gave him my life and did everything in my power to help him fulfil his wishes even if I did not agree. This resulted in our relationship falling apart and me becoming a hikkikomori. I recognise that gave too much of myself to Sena once but then I did that again 2 years later because this is still An Issue, and because Sena also has Problems and we kinda enable each other.

Madara: I wish I could become a hero and save people, but I do not have the power to do so. I do not even have the right to do so, given how steeped i am in underhanded dealings. I instead scaled my goals down to just protecting those i love, but even then they continue to get hurt and traumatised and I can only pick up the pieces and threaten their enemies. I am often seen as a threat and I agree with this assessment. (I push my loved ones towards those who can heal them but I still feel as worthless and dirty as a sack of shit.) Deep down, I still wish I could be a pure, sparkling hero like those in Ryuseitai.

Arashi: i dunno to be honest i never actually read her stories. something about loving all parts of yourself even if others don't affirm you and being afraid of losing people maybe

Tsukasa: i dunno i never rly thought about him, he's just struggling to keep his senpais in line. as far as i can tell he's generally quite well-adjusted, if a bit naive and ambitious.

anyway, my point is: please add on summaries of the internal struggles of your enstars faves!! it's a real shame that all these nuanced struggles are so hard to see and i would love to learn more about what their stories hold!

#enstars #izumi #leo #ritsu #rambles #ensemble stars #enstars knights #madara #sakuma ritsu #izumi sena #tsukinaga leo #mikejima madara #long post #i foolishly hoped that maybe this post would be as long as it turned out to be #*would not be

[undeadcannibal]

lunar eclipse.

Summary: You take a trip down to the Daycare center! Pairing: Sun/Moon/Reader Genre: Smut Word count: 3,144 Warnings: Dubious consent, size difference, non-consensual spanking, vaginal fingering, sentient animatronics, animatronic sex, explicit sexual content, AFAB reader, no use of y/n, spoiler free, not beta read A/N: I didn't intend on writing anything for Sun/Moon but here we are. Hopefully this is alright, I wanted to make it different from Freddy's piece at least. I'm not sure why FNAF: SB sparked my inspiration to write and post again, but I don't hate it. It's been really nice. :3 I can only hope y'all enjoy these as much as I enjoy whipping 'em up. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Monty should up next~) ( Gif credit: xxx )

You should have stayed home today. Originally, you'd planned on staying home so you didn't have to go to your niece's party. Maybe binge a TV show or try reading one of the books you'd bought but never got around to reading after. Anything other than spend your evening overloading your senses via bright lights, loud music, and screaming children. If it hadn't been for your sister continuing to guilt trip you over attending - even after you'd argued that your niece was still too young to remember if you were there or not - she pushed until you finally caved and agreed to attend. If only for an hour, at the very least.

Somehow, you'd actually managed just fine throughout the whole event. Smiling politely the entire time you watched the horde of small children run about wildly until the presents and birthday cake were brought out. Afterwards, it was back to the chaos prior as they ran around, burning off the excitement and excess amount of sugar coursing through them.

When the party ended, you thought you were free after you left the building. Walking over to your car that was parked beside your sister's SUV, only to begin to mentally kick yourself after you realized you'd forgotten your keys somewhere inside.

Your sister tried to convince you that it wouldn't be that big of a deal for her to wait for you, but you'd foolishly waved her off. Insisting that everything would be fine. You'd most likely find them somewhere in the Superstar Daycare, and if you didn't find them there, an employee probably picked them up and sent them to the lost-and-found. Besides, both her and your niece had to go home so they could rest anyway. It wouldn't take you long for a quick in-and-out trip. What could go wrong?

Walking back inside, you'd only stepped a few feet away from the entrance before hearing a loud rumble of metal, causing you to turn around to investigate the noise. To your dismay, a large metal covering slid down over the entrance, blocking off where you'd entered. Frantically rushing over, you slammed your fists against the garage-like door that had three Freddy Fazbear heads painted across the cover.

"Shit!" The cover didn't budge. Hell, it hadn't even dented from where you'd struck it. With the entrance now closed off, you turned around dejectedly. Looking around to try and figure our where you needed to go from there.

The entrance area of the Mega Pizzaplex appeared to be devoid of anyone - living or artificial - so you began to weigh your options. Your anxiety made your situation seem much worse than it actually was, feeling as if there was an invisible clock counting down the little time you had left before something bad happened. Rushing to come to a decision. When you'd finally decided on what to do, you left and began to walk back through the building to check out the Daycare. It'd been the last place you could recall leaving your keys, and even if they weren't there, maybe you’d find an employee that could check the lost-and-found for you.

Even when knowing where the Superstar Daycare was located it had still taken you some time to make it back. With a title like Mega Pizzaplex, it was easy to assume the establishment would be huge for a pizza place, but even then it still was more massive than it seemed. It was hard to believe they were able to pack so many different attractions and themed areas into one building.

After you arrived at the Daycare, a similar metal covering opened to reveal the reception area. You stepped inside and wasted no time in checking each of the tables for your keys. Soon becoming disappointed when it looked like they were nowhere to be found there. Your keys were probably still down in the play area.

Fantastic!

Passing the giant golden statues of the Sun and Moon Daycare assistants standing back to back together, you thought back to earlier during the party. Having interacted with the animatronic then, you had no idea how your niece wasn't terrified of the thing like the other children were. Whereas they cowered behind something or hid somewhere amongst the climbing towers, she didn't mind the bot one bit. It didn't bother you too much, but you also couldn't deny there was something off-putting about its appearance. Hopefully that thing was shut down for the night so you wouldn't have to see it again.

Approaching a rainbow entrance to a large, winding slide, you scoffed at the words painted above ‘slide into fun!". Ducking your head to enter the slide, you pushed yourself forward and down the multi-colored plastic tube. Rapidly sliding down until you fell waist-deep into the colorful ball pit below. Managing to find your footing in the pit, you stood up and began to wade through. The plastic balls at the top barely at your thighs. Trudging through the ball pit wasn’t as fun as the slide had made it out to be. All your mind could think of while you walked through it was the fact that the pit had probably never been deep-cleaned once. Causing you to shiver at the thought of how dirty it was at the bottom. Pushing past the castle and a smaller rainbow slide connected to the pit, you were shocked to see a spotlight starting up above. Lighting up a balcony surrounded by a sun and clouds. The red curtains parted to reveal none other than the Daycare attendant himself. The tall synth twirled out with a cheerful trio of ‘hoooos’ before diving off the balcony, down to become lost in a sea of plastic. You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm, yeah, no thank you.” Shaking your head, you did your best to quicken your pace so you could get the hell out of there. Only making it about halfway onto the smaller slide on the side before the robot suddenly popped out of the balls. Nearly startling you to death as it grabbed you by the upper arms and forced you around to face them. Easily lifting you off your feet and out of the pit, he set you down outside of it. “Hellooooo friend! It’s good to see you again! Did you come back to have a slumber party with your favorite pal?” The shape of his face was round and surrounded by large orange-yellow ombre spikes. Its expression split in half; the left side was a curved and pale moon while the remaining half was a yellow sun. The mouth it had was curled in a wide smile with pearly teeth. The eyes it had were white and contained no pupils, giving them the perfect ability to feel as if they were staring into the very depths of you. “Hey, uhhh, Sun - was it? - I’m just here to grab my car key so I can go home. Mind putting me down, buddy?” Surprisingly, he’d actually done as you’d asked and set you down to stand on your feet. The bells attached to the ribbons wrapped around the wrists of Suns’ spindly arms rang as he began to gently bob back and forth along with the rest of their body. The motions were oddly mesmerizing. Typical, given he was programmed to keep young children preoccupied and entertained. “I’ll put you down, but I’m afraid I can’t let you wander off to go search for your keys. We are strictly prohibited from leaving the approved play areas!” Sun informed you. “There’s plenty of other things we can do in the meantime! We can tell stories, play games, drink and eat yummy snacks till our bellies POP!” “There is only one rule: keep the lights on. ON. On…”

The jovial tone he spoke with shifted into gnarled and foreboding one, making your skin crawl in the process. You weren’t too keen on figuring out what the hell he was warning you about with the whole light junk. It was like he was some kind of gremlin or something. “Thanks, but I can’t really stick around for a slumber party tonight, Sunny. Maybe some other time.” Attempting to back away from the bouncing synth, you accidentally knocked over a tower of stacked toys. Shortly after they fell out of their order, the Daycare attendant stopped his gimmick and immediately rushed over towards them. Looking down frantically at the fallen toys, stretching his head to look at numerous angles of the mess. “No, no, no, no! Oh, which one’s the bottom and which is the top? Clean up! Clean up! Clean up!” Watching Sun fret over the knocked stack helped you put two and two together, realizing that since he was so fixated on reassembling the tower of toys in the correct order, you could use that flaw of his to your advantage. Sun busied himself with unstacking and restacking each toy every time one of them went the slightest off center from the rest. Sneaking away, once you were a few feet apart, you took the time to examine your surroundings. Walking along the padded floor until you came upon another tower of toys. Knocking that one over to give you some more time to search. Despite more griping from Sunny, you continued on - pushing over this tower and that - checking the tables in the surrounding play area. It hadn’t taken you long to check each of the tables. So, you gave them one more comb through before giving up on the idea of having forgotten them on one of the tables altogether. Though, during your rounds, you noticed a desk nearby large doors that were the exit. Figuring you had plenty of time before your solar friend came back around, you rounded back to check out the desk up front. Purposely ignoring the complaints and warnings Sun gave you, letting you know once more that you were not allowed back there. Even trying to negotiate with offerings of a puppet show, googly eyes, and glitter glue. Not that you paid him any mind. Rather, you looked across the surface of the desk, beaming once you found them underneath a note mentioning they needed to be dropped off in lost-and-found. Not anymore! With your car keys recovered, you turned and strode over towards the exit. It appeared to be closed but you figured you would be able to find your way out. A small rectangular button that had a lit up Freddy symbol on it shone a soft orange. Hoping it would help you get out, you pressed the button without much thought. The doors in front were as still as ever. Instead of opening the exit, all the lights inside the Daycare center went out. Engulfing the room in darkness within moments. The only remaining sources of light were the idle computer monitors along the desk and a copious amount of glow-in-the-dark stars decorating the ceiling. Hearing a loud slam behind, you whirled around only to see none other than the Sun bot himself, standing on top of the side of the desk. Nearly scaring you half to death. Before you could utter a word, he was quick to cut you off. “No – NO! Why would you do that?! I told you! I WARNED YOU! Keep the lights on!” Sun looked panicked and sounded just as distressed. His condition worsened by the second. A series of grunts and wails could be heard while he clawed at his face before suddenly falling over and off the desk. Your heart raced as you hastily glanced around, wondering what the hell had just happened before a bright and flashing window appeared on the computer screens, ‘Power diverted from Daycare. Please locate the emergency backup generators’ Generators? In a children’s play center?! You didn’t have the time to stick around and find out or beat yourself up on not having noticed anything off earlier. “Fuck this.” There was no way you were going to be running around to look for a couple of generators while that weird animatronic was off doing who knows what. You just wanted

to go home. Managing to take a few steps forward, you jumped at the sight of a pair of hands slinking over the surface of the desk, followed by a familiar yet strange looking Sun - no, Moon? - leering at you. The part of his face that had been painted a soft shade of yellow had been replaced by a pitch black, enhancing the pale and eclipsed features of the lunar side of his face. What once had been white eyes now glowed an eerie scarlet. “Naughty, naughty.” Gone was the jolly, sweet tone from before, replaced by a much more gravelly timbre. “Those who disobey must be punished.” Your mouth parted open but you couldn’t say anything, too shaken up by what he’d said to respond. How did anything like this help benefit child care? Whatever the purpose, you wanted no part in discovering the reason behind it. Determined to leave and then tell your sister and niece to never return. With no pillars of toys nearby to knock over, you tried to rush past his side to make a break for the exit, but it was all for naught. Lanky arms reached out and grabbed you. Pulling you closer towards him while you squirmed and fought to get out of the hold. Doing your best to slam your hands down again and again anywhere you could. Unfortunately, all of your attempts to escape didn’t even cause him to flinch or falter one bit. Moon laughed at your feeble struggling. His long fingers curled over your forearms and used the hold they had on you to reposition you. Pushing and bending you over the surface of the desk. Your chest mashing against it as he came to loom over you. The top of the sleeping cap dangling just inside your peripheral vision. “… must be disciplined…” He muttered. Bringing your hands together, Moon gripped both of your wrists in one hand. Locking them together firmly while his free hand disappeared out of view. Now unable to use your hands, you settled for the next best thing and began to blindly kick at his legs. Hoping at least one of your kicks would cause them to buckle at the knee or damage them enough for you to get away. All you were rewarded with was more mocking giggling before a sudden tickling walk of fingers could be felt at your waist. His fingertips curled beneath the waistband of your bottoms. Grunting whilst you wriggled and kicked in a desperate attempt to deter him from going any further. Moon didn’t care much for your defiance. Not bothering to listen to your reasoning. Instead, gripping your pants so he could tug them down. A sharp gasp followed by a cry left you when you felt him reach for your underwear next. Just like your pants, they too were tugged down past your knees, falling down to pool around your ankles. “You need to be taught how to be-HAVE.” Having nowhere to go, you were forced to endure the hits; metal slapping your sensitive backside hard enough to make you audibly sob. Not caring to be gentle in any way. Delivering another smack in the same spot, only on the opposite cheek. You couldn’t help but grit your teeth, hissing through them. Each swat worse than the last. As rough as the whole ordeal was becoming, you found yourself growing shamefully excited from it all. A small part of you hoped it was as simple as your body trying to cope by turning pain into pleasure, but you knew better than to believe that. Especially after your hips jerked and your fingers stretched when feeling his wide palm shifting to hit you from a different angle. Stopping to tightly grip the thickest part of your ass between slender fingers. Feeling a familiar twinge like a knot forming deep in your belly, your breathing turned haggard; not bothering to hold back so much so you could give in and press your bottom into the bruising touch. Figuring that if you couldn’t escape, the least you could do was get some sort of enjoyment out of this. Catching on to your reactions, his head tilted so he could watch your reactions. Taking notice of your thighs beginning to press and rub together. Giggling manically while relaxing the hand that had been gripping your ass, he let go entirely. Alleviating the stinging

left behind by the strikes by lightly smoothing his palm across your rear. Moon figured since you seemed to be enjoying your punishment so much, he’d give you something to truly appreciate. Forcing a mechanical thigh between your knees to nudge them till they were spread apart. The hand resting on the globe of your ass cheek then moving down to press and rub cold, solid fingertips across the length of you to align themselves at your entrance. It didn’t matter how worked up you’d gotten from the spanking alone, you were certain there wasn’t any amount of lubricant that could’ve prepared you for the harsh forward slam. Both his middle and ring finger sinking inside of you with a singular abrupt thrust. Simultaneously whining and writhing beneath him, every motion and noise was ignored. Not giving you time to adjust to anything he did. The hand that had been holding your wrists in place let go to reach behind your head. Grabbing a hold of your hair so he could wrench you backwards. Drawing out more cries from you – you leaned your head back against the hand tangled in your locks. More turned on than you cared to admit even with the pain. “Act out and I will have no choice but to put you in time out.” Setting a careless rhythm, Moon fucked his fingers in and out of the tight walls of your unprepared cunt. Stretching you out with his long digits by curling them upwards within you to rub at rigid, sensitive walls. “Oh god!” The sounds he coaxed out of you were embarrassingly loud and wanton as the burning soreness from the stretching gave way to building pleasure. Rocking your hips sloppily in an attempt to meet the thrusts despite their inhuman speed. Moon’s palm repeatedly bumping against your mound in the process. Strings of unintelligible garbles and moans spilling out of you, not that you could stop them to begin with. When you finally come, it is overwhelming in every sense: your breathing turned shallow and wheezy, your back arched, and the muscles in your thighs quivered and stiffened till you could feel them strain. Your pussy squeezing and throbbing around his fingers until they slid out, leaving with a slick coating shimmering along them. “There ya go… Behaving isn’t so difficult, is it?”

#five nights at freddy's: security breach #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sun x reader #moon x reader #fanfiction #my writing

[kienava]

“I broke my promise.”

The fire crackles and pops, and Blake wonders if it’s eaten her whisper.

There’s a long moment where all she hears is the fire smacking its lips and waves lapping up onto the beach to claim the scraps of her admission.

Beside her, the sand shifts. Yang rolls onto her side and Blake can feel wide, patient eyes watching her, but she can’t look.

So she stays fixed on the ocean - Is it an ocean? Is it even real? - as it recedes, retreats.

“Blake,” Yang says. She’s waiting for more, and the only reason Blake can bring herself to say it is because she’s tired of making Yang wait for her.

“When you... when she made you fall,” Blake explains. She isn’t sure why she refuses to say Neo’s name. Part of her believes it’s because names have power and she doesn’t want to relinquish an ounce more to Neo - but then she remembers another name she wouldn’t dare to speak, and she never felt power in those silences.

Yang sits up, moving so that only a sliver of firelight separates their shoulders. “You can’t blame yourself for that. Blake, even if I could barely see it, I know you did everything you could to try and save me.”

Blake takes in a shaky breath. “That’s not what I mean.”

“It’s not?���

“Of course I feel terrible that I couldn’t save you, but something else happened. After you were gone.”

Because Yang is wonderful and infuriating in the space of a blink, she waits. She’d give Blake a universe’s worth of space, and then she’d make a ridiculous joke about it - Get it? Space?

Collapsing in Yang’s arms on a beach sounds a lot like something Blake would have dreamt about in her bunk back at Beacon, a comforting, peaceful image that could lull her to sleep with the wispy promise to bring such a fantastical future one night closer. It’s all Blake wants to do, let herself be held, but she can’t. Not when her entire being is weighed down by the blunt awareness of what she almost did.

Blake gives herself one breath, one last cycle of the waves before she says something that she swears will make Yang hate her.

She promised to stay by Yang’s side no matter what - but she never asked Yang to make the same vow. She won’t blame her if she leaves.

The ocean crawls back, allowing itself one glittering moment to kiss the shore, and then it leaves again. That’s just the way it is. Blake thinks about how people are mostly water, how they ebb and flow, vanish into the sky and into the ground. How they help things grow.

Blake means to whisper, but it comes out all at once, so loud the fire can’t swallow it up. “I tried to kill her.”

Yang doesn’t move. She doesn’t freeze, and she doesn’t gasp in shock.

And Blake has no idea what that means.

Then, Blake feels a gentle, cool touch settle on her shoulder. She’s wrapped up in herself, knees pulled into her chest, withdrawn, and she doesn’t deserve to be pulled out of it.

Again, Yang says nothing, just offers that one wistful smile. Back when she was trying to understand why that smile broke her heart, Blake used to think that it looked a little bit sad, but now she understands. Now she knows what Yang means to her, and her heart is breaking all over again. She’s pretty sure she’s set a record for how many times that can happen inside of three days.

“What promise?” Yang asks. There’s no judgment in her expression, only a quiet desire to understand. Another small heartbreak.

“Adam,” Blake says, shunting the name off as quickly as she can, whittling it from her tongue. They’d only talked about it once, and Yang had been resolute. Blake, not so much. She might be even less convinced now, in the wake of the past few hours. “Maybe we had no choice against him, but I promised myself I would never do something like that again. Then when I thought you were... I thought she had...”

Blake remembers the mecha under the bridge, flashes of red at Beacon and at the waterfall. It hurt more each time, that premier ache blossoming into a cellular agony. Hours later, it’s still wracking her nerves. To think about it is to relive it.

Yang speaks, cool aloe on a blistered sunburn. “What stopped you? With Neo?”

“Weiss was in trouble. I had to choose. But if I hadn’t had that choice I don’t know what I--”

“Okay. Am I gonna have to stage another intervention?”

Blake snaps to look at her. “What?”

“Remember when you didn’t sleep for, like, a week?”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

Yang turns and crosses her legs, facing Blake just as she had years before, sitting on a desk at the front of a lecture hall. “Sounds like you’re beating yourself up over something that didn’t even happen.”

Blake faces her, because that’s what you do when you’re suddenly arguing with someone who doesn’t hate you as much as they should. “Yang, I tried to kill her. I wanted to.”

“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to kill Ozpin? Or Raven?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why?”

“You never had a sword pointed at their necks!”

Yang shrugs. “I don’t fight with a sword.”

“Why don’t you hate me?!” Blake shouts and almost falls back, startled by her own voice.

Now, finally, Yang looks like she’s been stung - it’s for all the wrong reasons, and Blake’s stomach twists. She curls into herself again, burying her face behind her knees and locking her hands behind her own neck.

“I could never hate you, Blake.”

There’s so much hurt in her voice, a deep crack that reminds Blake of the first time she saw Yang cry.

She should apologize, but she can’t undo what she’s said. She can’t take back any of how she felt after watching Yang plummet into oblivion.

Before she can decide on any particular course of inaction, she’s being pulled out of her miserable little cube, and she can’t stop herself from falling into Yang’s open arms.

Earlier, when she saw Yang alive, the guilt burned away long enough for Blake to take after the waves kissing the shoreline.

All she can think now, wrapped in Yang’s arms, is that she doesn’t deserve it.

It would have been easier, maybe, if Yang hated her enough to walk away. Blake can’t very well walk away from herself. Her semblance can leave endless copies of her behind, but she’s always going to be stuck with the original. In moments like this, it feels like a fitting punishment.

With Yang holding on to her so tightly, Blake feels like a tormented copy, shattering endlessly, never escaping. She knows it’s a defense mechanism, but that doesn’t mean she knows how to stop it from coming on. Her self is as real an enemy as another.

Foolishly, she hopes that Yang is going to kiss her again when the embrace starts to break. Instead, Yang rests her forehead on Blake’s, and it’s another familiar reassurance that Blake doesn’t know how to accept.

“If you feel like you broke a promise to yourself, there’s only one person who can forgive you,” Yang says, her words smoldering like embers. Blake feels their warmth in her skin.

Blake is crying - she’s been crying, probably the whole time since Yang fell - but now Yang is here to catch the tears.

She’s right, Blake knows.

It’s hard to break old habits, and perhaps even harder to form new ones, and no one can do any of it for her. But Yang believes, and she remembers all the times Blake proved that she had compassion to spare. Why shouldn’t she offer some to herself? In Yang’s arms, it’s a little bit easier for Blake to believe that she deserves it.

[cross-posted on AO3]

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#bumbleby fic #bumbleby