#i told him i was going to betray you but i lied too well

[kasagia]

Right hand III

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse... Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.

You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.

"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.

"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.

"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.

"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"

"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.

"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.

Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.

When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.

You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.

Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.

"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.

"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?

"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.

Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.

"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.

“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.

"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."

"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"

With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.

"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.

"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.

You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…

"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.

However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.

“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.

"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.

"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.

Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.

"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.

They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.

You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.

"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"

“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”

"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"

"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.

After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.

One quick move was enough to take your life.

And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.

"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.

All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.

"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.

You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.

"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."

You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.

You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.

"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.

You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.

He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.

Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.

He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.

"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."

You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.

It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.

He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.

You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.

Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.

"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."

He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.

Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.

He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.

He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.

He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.

He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.

Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.

"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."

You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.

"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."

He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.

His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.

You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.

"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.

"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.

"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.

“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.

"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.

"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.

"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.

"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."

"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:

“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”

You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.

"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.

"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.

"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.

"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.

"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"

You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.

"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."

Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.

"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.

"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.

"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."

"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.

"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.

You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.

Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.

"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.

"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.

He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.

You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.

"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.

"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.

This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.

"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.

"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."

"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.

"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.

"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.

He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.

And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.

"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.

"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.

He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.

"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.

It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.

"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.

"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.

"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.

"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.

"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."

"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.

You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.

"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.

Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.

Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.

Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.

"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.

"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.

"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.

"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.

His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.

"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."

You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.

"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.

"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...

"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).

"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.

"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.

Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.

If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.

But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.

"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.

"Count Rabban."

"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.

"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.

"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.

"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."

"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.

"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."

"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.

Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.

And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.

Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.

Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.

"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.

Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.

If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.

"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.

While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.

When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:

"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.

"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.

"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.

"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.

"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."

He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.

"We've met before, right?"

"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.

You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.

You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.

"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.

As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.

They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.

"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.

"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.

"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.

"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.

"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.

You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.

"Get a medic here!"

He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.

You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.

You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.

You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.

You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.

However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.

You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.

You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.

Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.

You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.

You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.

You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.

"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.

You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.

"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.

"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.

His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.

Which impresses him.

So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.

"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.

You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.

"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.

"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.

It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.

"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.

"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."

His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.

Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.

However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.

"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."

"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."

"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.

"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.

"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.

"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"

He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.

"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.

Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.

You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...

You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.

As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.

"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.

"Agreement?"

"With a little witch?"

"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."

You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.

"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.

Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.

"The little witch is planning something…"

"The little witch is up to something interesting…"

"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"

You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.

And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.

"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.

"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.

'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.

Nothing united women like a common enemy.

To be continued... Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[2hightocare]

WHAT YOU NEED ✷

Synopsis: Jungkook and you try getting into the Christmas spirit, but you end up getting fucked up against the kitchen counter.

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: established relationship au!

Warnings: smut, size kink, light spanking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t b dumb nd wear condom.) fluff, cussing, Jungkook has a dirty mouth. a kms joke, hair pulling and choking

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: let’s not sayyyy.. when i say i was giggling and kicking my feet i am not fucking lying! (Jk had me on a chokehold istg😒) they flagged my shit… um

Is it barely November 1st? Yes.

Are you putting the Christmas tree up already? Fuck yeah.

Jungkook would clown you for your love for Christmas, and honestly, you didn't care because you loved everything about it. The decorations, the new flavored coffee menu’s, the gifts underneath the tree, and the cold. You loved wearing beanies, scarves, and thick hoodies. Something about this holiday takes you back to your childhood—the way you would gather with your siblings and parents in the kitchen, making sugar cookies to put under the tree for Santa.

Were you heartbroken when your parents told you they were Santa? Yes. You felt betrayed after they lied to you for thirteen years of your life. When you shared your story with Jungkook, he burst out laughing, sharing that he found out at age nine after catching his parents in the act, making you want to cry for him.

Now here you both were at 10:40 pm assembling the Christmas tree. Jungkook's mom gifted you both, which is much bigger than yours from last year.

“Oh my fuck—this is too big, baby." Jungkook admires the height of the tree with his hands rested on both sides of his hips. Your excitement rises at how many possible ways you both could decorate it.

"Well, I can tell you hate it,” your boyfriend jokes as his hands wrap around your bare waist from behind. “Your hands are cold,” you flinch. Your hands wrap around his, trying to pass him your warmth.

“And if we decorate it with tiny dicks?” You crack your neck upward to see his reaction. “I mean, go for it, baby."

You swat his chest as he burst into a fit of laughter. “You swear you’re so funny, huh?” You look at him with a serious face, your mouth twitching from trying to hold in the big smile that wants to come out.

Jungkook just shakes his head. “Wanna decorate today with last year's decorations, or we can wait till tomorrow and buy new ones, and instead we can bake Christmas cookies?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Anyone in their right mind would be thinking we’re crazy for already baking Christmas cookies when December is in a whole month. But you both didn’t care.

…

“We should’ve gotten pre-made cookie dough.” Your eyes look around at the marble counter in front of you, filled with all the ingredients your mother-in-law told you to use. “On god.” Jungkook stands beside you. “You know what? Let me call my mom. We need a tutorial, I'm afraid.” You giggle as he pulls out his phone, opening up FaceTime.

The phone rings three times before the camera fills up with your mother-in-law smiling sweetly. "Hi, my babies!” She says first, Your face lights up. “Hi,” you wave a hand to the camera. “Hi mom!”

“You guys look adorable,” she motions to your guys matching pink hello kitty pajamas. “Y/n bought them; I had no choice,” he lied, knowing damn well he wanted to match first. “Sureee.” You rolled your eyes at him.

The call continued as Jungkook's mom gave you guys simple instructions like beating the sugar and butter with a whisk, which Jungkook took over because your hand started to hurt, and gradually adding flour to the mixture, which ended with both of you guys covered in white flour because Jungkook turned the mixer too fast. After wishing your goodbyes, you both slightly shake off the flour, and you put the dough in the refrigerator. Apparently, you have to let it be firm.

“So now we have two hours to wait. I say we fuck.” Jungkook slaps your ass, making you squeal. “You’re horny??” Your hands make their way to his hair, slightly pulling. "Hm, maybe,” he whispers into your mouth, and he gives you a slow, wet kiss. “I’m still sore from earlier." I mumble in between kisses. “Was I too rough?” His rough hands massage your ass. You shrug your shoulders in his embrace.

“Christmas movie, then?” He asks, “I’m so down."

….

“Shit takes like ass,” you say, finishing up the cookie.

Your boyfriend looks around for the long-gone cookie. “I don't know; let’s ask the audience.” He looks around for the invisible camera. “Bitch!” You swat his arm, and he burst out laughing, holding on to his stomach.

“You literally ate that shit up.” His head is thrown back, and the most beautiful laugh roars out of him. “I will kill myself genuinely.” You chuckle while trying another cookie without the frosting you guys tried making from a tutorial on Google.

“The frosting is ass, cause this is a bomb,” you stuff your mouth with the remaining of the cookie humming at the taste. “Am I weird cause I fuck with the frosting?" He dips his pinky nto the bowl where the white frosting is before sucking it off. “Never mind actual shit." His nose scrunches in disgust, and his tongue sticks out, making you giggle.

"No, seriously, why is it so bad?” Jungkook takes a sip of the milk he had served not so long ago. “I have no clue, baby, but the sugar cookie itself slaps." You take your half eaten cookie up to your boyfriend's mouth and say, "Open, ahh." He immediately follows commands and opens before you shove his mouth with the golden cookie. “Mhm,” Jungkook's face scrunches as he bobs his head up and down, savoring the heart-shaped cookie.

“Probably the best cookie I had in a while, not gonna lie,” he states, taking a bite of the gingerman's head.

“Do we have cinnamon?” You make your way to the drawer where you keep all the spices. “ Found it,” you make your way back to the cookie before sprinkling some on your and Jungkook's cookies before taking a huge bite. “Oh my fuck," you moan.

"Oh, my fuck indeed.” Jungkook shoves the remaining cookie into his mouth, moaning at how it melted in his mouth. "Think, I just saw stars.” You say this while he side-eyes you. “Haha no.” He says that before picking you up on the counter, he settles in between your legs.

“Horny still?” You ask again, "Yes, very, I’ll be a gentle promise.” He leaves open-mouth kisses on your neck before slowly sucking.

“No marks.” You moan, your fingers slightly tugging on his hair and making him groan. “Scarf season, princess.” He looks up with a smirk on his face, then continues his actions, sucking and licking your soft spot. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet. Jungkook slowly grinds into your clothed pussy causing you to slip out a throaty moan. “Fuck—“ you throw your head back, your legs caging him closer to where you most need him. “I need you to lose the clothes and fuck me.” Jungkook chuckles at your demanding tone.

“Yeah? Want my cock already?” His hands rub on your thighs. You nod your head, looking down at the imprint of his now-hard cock. You reach for it, but Jungkook slaps your hand away, making you pout. “Patience princess,” Jungkook's hands tug on the band of your pajamas, pulling them down and taking your underwear along with it.

You squeal as your bare ass feels the cold counter top, and your boyfriend laughs before throwing the clothes somewhere on the ground.

Your pussy clenches over nothing, and you go to press your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, only for Jungkook to hold them wide open. He pulls his hard cock out of his pants, giving himself two pumps before slapping it on your wet center. Your gaze fixated on his dick on your pussy, your lips between your teeth moaning slightly when your boyfriend gives it another slap with his dick.

“So wet for me, baby,” he says, giving it another slap. "C'mere," Jungkook's picks you off the counter from your arms, “bend over. ” He orders.

You quickly follow his command, your juices dripping down your legs from how wet you were already. Jungkook spreads open your legs some more before making his way in between them, giving your ass a slap. “Fuck—“ you clench your thighs together as he soothes the red mark he just left. “Fuck, when are you going to let me fuck this ass.” Your boyfriend asks you, giving you another spank, making you squeak.

“Never,” you moan, making him chuckle under his breath. “Worth the try.” He jokes before sinking down into you, both moaning at the feeling. You felt so full. Jungkook is so big, stretching your pussy deliciously. “So big shit," you moan, your cheek pressed against the counter as he fills you up to the hilt. “You can take it, baby,” Jungkook says between gritted teeth. He felt you clenching around him, having him on the verge of coming right there in an instant.

“Always so good for me, baby. Want me to fuck you so good, huh?” He whispers into your ear, and you clench around him, earning you another spank, ripping a loud moan out of you. “Fuck me," you stutter over the pleasure your lower belly is feeling. “That’s what I like to hear, baby,” Jungkook says before pulling his cock out, just leaving the tip in before slamming into you. Your mouth hangs open as he repeats the movements over and over again. “Fuck just like that,” you grip to the edge of the counter, your eyes close immediately, as his rough hands compare to your smooth skin, hold tightly to the sides of your hips, pounding into you from behind.

“This cunt is mine, right?” Jungkook groans, sliding his cock in and out of your walls. You could only reply with a loud moan. But that’s not enough for Jungkook; your boyfriend wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you upward and arching your back in the process. “Use your words, princess.” He orders in your ear, his movements never halting.

"Fuck—your pussy! Only yours,” you spit out whatever words you could make a sentence out of. “Fucking you dumb, huh?” He lets go of your hair and moves his hand around your neck, adorning it like a necklace and applying some pressure. "Mhmm,” you moan, trying to open your eyes but shutting close after Jungkook slams into you again.

The room fills with the wet clapping sounds, groans, and moans that keep spilling out of your guys mouths. Your fingers find your sensitive clit, applying pressure and drawing small circles. "Fuck—I'm gonna come!” Your legs shake beneath Jungkook, and his arm wraps around your waist in case your legs give out on you.

“Yeah baby? Gonna come for me?” He slaps your hand away from your clit replacing it with his. Your back arches against him, and his cock continues hitting your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuc—“ Your words are cut short when the pleasure in your belly finally snaps, and Jungkook's fingers furiously move on your pussy, making you scream into your hand. Wetness pools on your feet, dripping down your legs. “Fuck so hot when you squirt,” Jungkook continues fucking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation has you shaking underneath him. “Too much fu-fuck,” you head drops to the counter. You clench, sending Jungkook over the edge.

“Coming,” your boyfriend's head drops to your shoulder, his movements becoming sloppy, springs of cum shooting inside you, moaning at the feeling.

His movements come to a halt, his mind foggy, his cock throbbing when he pulls out, making you whine, feeling empty.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he sees his cum dripping out of your hole. Without a second thought, he shoves it back in with his index finger. “Aw shit,” you moan at the sensitivity.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder blade. “You were so good for me, baby.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses all over your back, breathing heavily. You are trying to catch your breath, and your legs feel like jelly, not being able to move from your current position.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, your eyes closing. "Baby, don’t fall asleep on me,” Jungkook smiles at you, picking you up in bridal style, making you to squeal.

"How the fuck can you be so cute after just getting railed?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face as you try to snuggle into his chest. “You play too much,” you mumble.

Jungkook lays you down on the bed before disappearing into your guys bathroom; a couple minutes later, coming out changed and with a warm rag in hand, “here, baby open,” he coos motioning to your legs. You do as he says. He slowly cleans and wipes your center, making you moan from oversensitivity. “Almost done,” he says before giving a last swipe and throwing the rag somewhere in the room.

“Do you want a pill, baby?” He asks against your cheek, to which you nod. He stands up, walking to your side of the closet and getting you something comfy to wear. “Here. Be right back.” Jungkook leaves the clothes next to you and leaves the room.

As you change into your clothes, Jungkook waltz’s in with an ibuprofen and a glass of water on his other hand. “Here,” he says, waiting for you to poke your head out of his hoodie before handing you the small pill.

You swallow the pill without any complaints before dropping down on the bed. “So tired.” Your eyes close before you even hit the pillow, making him chuckle. “Worn you out, huh?” He teases before dropping beside you, pulling the covers over both of you. You immediately cuddle up to his side, feeding off the warmth he radiates. Your leg is over his torso, and your hand is on his chest.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you; now let’s go, mimi’s." You kiss his clothed chest, hoping he can still feel the kiss.

#bts fanfic #bts jungkook #fluff #jjk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jjk smut #smut #bts smut #established relationship #jjk x reader #bangtan #drabble

[vaguely-concerned]

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

#garashir #elim garak #julian bashir #star trek ds9 #ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #S2EP22 The Wire #alternate title: baby's first brush with unconditional love through unreliable narration lol #I'm not sure I got to say everything I want to in this/found the exact right words in places or hit all the nuances #but god help me I so desperately need this out of my brain to free up some disc space so go forth little meta haha be free #I'm sure I'll come back to you in time #meta #enabran tain #(derogatory)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Lies in the dark

Pairing: boyfriend!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Synopsis: You received pictures of Satoru cheating on you, his longtime girlfriend, with other women. Completely heartbroken you leave him without hearing his side of the story. After weeks of drowning yourself in alcohol, the two of you meet again at Jujutsu High.

Warnings: cheating, language, use of alcohol/drugs, hurt

Your foot tabs against the floor while you wait for his puny figure to arrive in the doorframe. By now it’s far after midnight, actually you are dead tired from all the crying and thinking. But this can’t wait.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect you to be awake this late!”

There he stands, casually taking off his blindfold while blessing you with his best cheeky grin. Satoru’s sight alone makes your gut twist in anger and disgust. He really has some nerves to welcome you like that after all he has done.

“You’re pretty late.”

Your voice sounds so cold that Gojo’s blood freezes in his veins. His smile is washed away in an instant, he has never seen you like this. Has something happened? Are you upset for some reason?

“Why do you look like someone died? I’m home, sweet thing!”

Your emotionless eyes glare at him through the darkness of the apartment. Damn, how could you fall for him and his stupid little game? Did you really believe him when he told you that you are the only one, the one and only woman in his life? Fuck, you were so dumb. Too stupid to realize that it isn’t work that makes him come home this late at night. Your mind is numb to the feeling of being betrayed, it isn’t the first time that you get screwed. But you thought that Satoru is somehow different, that he values your feeling more. Well, so much for that.

“Maybe you’re so late because you were with her, huh?”

He glances at you like he has to think about your words, eyebrows narrowed.

“Who do you mean exactly? Mei is out of town. Oh, I visited Shoko because she patched a student back together, but that was in the afternoon. Or was it? I don’t remember exactly…“

Enough of that bullshit. You don’t offer him any more words, instead you just throw your phone at him. The phone that reveals countless messages about meetings, fucking and mocking with other women, pictures of him caressing their basic faces in the way you knew all too well, giving them the affection late at night that you craved so much. And then the words of the woman that called you earlier…

“When he called me sweet thing I thought I was the only one for him until I saw you two on the streets the other day. He never mentioned he had a girlfriend!”

“I began investigating and as it seems, he had a thing with many other women as well. I’ll send you screenshots of every conversation we’ve had the last couple months.”

Sweet thing. The thought of him using your nickname for other woman makes you want to break down and cry. But even though your heart is shattered into a million little pieces, you refuse to gift him a single tear. No, he doesn’t deserve your agony. He doesn’t deserve to see the feelings you have for him. Instead, you just stare at him with blank eyes while sitting in your chair and watching his blue orbs widen in shock.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out, gaze wandering from the screen to you.

“Let me explain-“

“No need to explain anything. I don’t care about how much I liked you and wished this wasn’t true. I told you I’ll leave you alone if you make me feel this way. And I’m fucking leaving, Gojo. Don’t you dare follow me. Y’know, I’m not your backup plan, good luck with whatever you got going on.”

With a swift motion, you lift yourself off the chair and grab your already packed suitcase.

“You can’t leave without hearing my side! I never cheated on yo-“

“Might be true that there’s always two sides to a story. Fuck your weak ass side tho. I’m done here.”

Heels clicking against the hard floor underneath your feet, you confidently cross the room and expand yourself in front of him. Satoru’s huge frame blocks the door, you can’t just get past him. But you need to get out of this apartment filled with dreadful memories and your shattered hopes as soon as possible before you have a complete breakdown.

“I’m serious Gojo.”

“It’s baby for you.”

“Bet she calls you that too. Get away from the door, we are done.”

“(y/n), hear me out”, his form moves towards you, like a predator approaching its prey.

No, you can’t. You don’t want him to get that close to you. You can’t stand him near you.

“Stay away from me”, you choke out, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to console your own aching heart.

“I loved you for 8 years, 8 fucking years Satoru! I gave you everything I had and you trampled on that by fucking another woman so basic that I want to throw up. I have nothing more to say to you, it’s enough that I have to endure the sight of you at every damn meeting of jujutsu sorcerers. Now get.out.of.the.way.”

Your cruel words make even Satoru’s heart jump in agony, his shaky breath fills the air. Do you really want to break up with him without giving him the chance to explain himself? He has so much to say, so much to clarify. Fuck, he could end all this madness and your suffering. But it doesn’t matter. He has no choice but to let you go for the moment. Satoru knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that you won’t listen to him in your wrath, always suborn and confident. Apart from that, he himself has no idea who sent these messages to you and where these pictures come from. He has to investigate the matter first before he can face you again. As much as his whole body struggles against it, he takes a step to the side in order to let you go for the moment.

“I love you with all my heart and I’ll do anything to prove that you are the only one for me.”

Boom.

You close the door behind you noisily. Enough of that lying. You stumble into the fresh air of the night, tears pooling your eyes and taking away your sight. Get a hotel, take a hot shower, turn off your phone. Get over the fact that your boyfriend of 8 fucking years cheated on you, get over the fact that your relationship ended in the foulest way. God, it hurts so bad that you want to break down in the middle of the street, your numb limbs still in shock. But you need to get going. After all, you are a grade 1 sorcerer, everyone counts on your abilities. And a man who doesn’t value you shouldn’t be the reason you forget yourself and your aspiration. _________________________________________________________

Hey girl, need a ride to Jujutsu High? Meeting up in 15 min

You sign at the message of Mei on your phone. It’s been three weeks. Three weeks without seeing Satoru’s cheating face, three weeks in which he called you at least 10 times a day, three weeks of constant crying in the pillows of random hotels and filling yourself up with alcohol at clubs around the town. You feel like crap and look even worse from time to time. But today, you have to get yourself together. For the sake of your job, for the other people you care about like Mei and Nanami. Do all of them know what happened? Probably not, you only told Mei about it and Satoru would hardly admit that he cheated on you multiple times.

Do I really have to?

Your white uniform lies untouched in your suitcase, memories of last mission flood your mind. You were with him, laughing, playing, clapping the asses of multiple curses all at once. Everything was fine, everything was great. Life can change so quickly.

Of course you have to, dumbass.

But you have no other choice. With trembling fingers, you put on the white dress with long sleeves and cut outs that emphasize your curves so well and caught the attention of Satoru first. It fits a little looser than usual. Well, given the fact that you mostly live on drinks that’s no surprise. You put on your round sunglasses to hide the dark circles under your eyes which can be no longer covered by makeup and brush through your hair a few times. Admittedly, you look better than the last few weeks, but definitely worse than usual.

Your cream colored heels click against the marble floor of the hotel lobby as you walk outside, Mei’s car already waiting for you.

“You look better than I thought”, she comments when you sit beside her.

“Thanks I guess, gold digger.”

She gives you a small smile before her eyes get serious again.

“I’m here for you today, ‘kay? Might hire someone who kills him though…”

“You would spend money for me? Damn, you must really like me Mei”, you remark sarcastically.

“I’d do anything for you girl. Let’s get this over with, huh?”

The journey goes by far too quickly for your taste, fingertips already shaking at the thought of seeing his stupid pretty face again. What was he doing all this time? Your gut twists in agony. Probably went out with his other women, what else? Do you seriously think he missed you? That breakup doubtless hurt you ten times more than him. His face will wear the same stupid grin as always, his words will sound just as irresponsible as usual. Everything stays the same. Except for the fact that you aren’t by his side anymore.

“God, since when is this ass so punctual”, Mei hisses.

And there he stand, wearing his sunglasses and uniform, leaned against the doorframe while he probably drives Utahime mad with his mocking. Suddenly you are out of breath, lungs refusing their service as your eyes fill with salty tears again. No, you can’t cry now. You were so cool when you left him. He doesn’t deserve your tears or to see your pain. His cheating ass isn’t worth your throbbing.

“Keep it cool”, Mei speaks out with low voice.

Yes, you need to keep it cool. Straighten your back, swing your hips, show him that you don’t care about him at all.

“What’s up everyone”, you snort out, hand resting against your hips while eyeing everyone except Satoru.

“Wow, you’re early. Since when do you come on time?”, Nanami dryly responses.

“Why so rude, Kento? I thought you’d be happy to see me again, we are best friends since school after all!”

“You are a pain in the ass, (y/n).”

Fuck, you can feel his eyes almost eating you up. Your cheeks begin to burn just by the thought of it.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? You look a little thinner than last time”, Utahime comments, turning away from Satoru.

You swallow hard, panic rises inside your chest. For the first time, you don’t want everyone’s attention on you. Come on, just that meeting. An hour and you’re rid of him, an hour and you’re holed up in a random club again.

“You’d lose some weight too if you were me, Utahime. Now stop looking at my perfect ass and get going.”

Your remark catches everyone off guard, especially Satoru and his guilty conscience. For your standards, you look absolutely horrible and your answers have lost their bite. You are just the shell of yourself that slightly smells like alcohol.

“Hey, if there’s something going on…You know we can talk, right?”, Nanami discretely murmurs into your ear, worry lines draw his face.

“Thanks man, I don’t need anybody but myself though.”

And with that, you turn on your heels and walk through the door. Away from his hungry sight, away from their annoying questions. One damn meeting to get over with. One.damn.meeting.

“You look like shit”, Masamichi notes dryly while watching you sit down.

“Stop being so fucking annoying or I’ll quit”, you bark back, glaring at him through the shade of your glasses.

“What’s up your ass, (y/n)? You’re annoying as hell, but in another way. Are you alright?”

You can’t take it anymore. All the questions and fucking looks. As if the slight change of your appearance is the only thing that’s interesting at the moment. Yeah, you are as fine as you can be, on the brick of tears, mind racing just by the thought of Satoru looking your direction, let alone talk to you. But that’s none of anyone’s business. If you have to repeat one more time what happened a few weeks ago you’ll probably break down.

“Stop asking questions and get this meeting over with, I’m not payed enough to be here”, Mei interrupts and positions herself beside you.

It’s all a blur. The words that come out of his mouth seem to fade away before hitting your ear. All you can think about is Satoru who sits towards you, eyes darted on your figure. You don’t have to look at him to be aware of the fact that he is eyeing you up and down, waiting for a chance to talk to you.

Over the last couple of weeks, he tried to call you multiple times, not scared by the fact that you blocked him on every possible communication way the slightest. Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in the wound? The moment your phone rings and his name appears on the screen, you relive the fateful moment of realization over and over again, imagining him fucking another woman mercilessly while you sit at home and wait for him to come back. You know that you are too good for that, that the best thing you could do was leaving his cheating ass as soon as possible. But in your lonely nights when returning from a random club after talking to random strangers you find yourself lying in bed and cry your heart out over the relationship you thought was the best thing that could have happened to you.

“(y/n)?”

“Ayo, you there?”, Mei murmurs into your ear and punches your arms slightly.

You have to blink the pain away, still consumed by Gojo’s presence. Your heart skips a beat. Was someone talking to you?

“I just wish I was somewhere else”, you mutter, eyes directed to the ground.

Fuck, you feel like crying all over again. Why does it have to hurt this bad? Why does he have to be here, eying you up and down as if you were his prey? Why did he have to cheat on you and destroy the live you built together? All of that isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be sitting here, running on drinks with a few hours of sleep a week and a bleeding heart while he seems to be just fine. Your conscience shouldn’t weigh on you when you’re talking to a guy while Satoru is fucking his way through the world.

“(y/n)?”

Your name out of his sinful mouth makes your gut turn in disgust, you feel like throwing up.

“Get my name out of your dirty mouth”, you jeer at him, eyes yanking up to notice that he’s already staring at you with his face all serious.

You can’t take it anymore. With shaky legs you lift yourself up, leaving the room with fast steps. The tears in your eyes start to burn their way through your face and take your sight completely. After all, maybe you aren’t strong enough to simply get over his betrayal. God, you loved Satoru with all your heart. In all these years there was never another guy you even found attractive. You were so loyal, in love and fucking dumb. Too dumb to realize that he in fact does seem to think that you are replaceable.

“Get your ass back in, Gojo. I dare you!”, Mei’s voice threatens from afar.

“(y/n), please hear me out. Give me a chance to explain!”

No, no, no. You can’t bare him near you, let alone hearing your name out of his mouth. You need to leave and never return.

“(y/n)!”

You feel his grip around your left wrist, his touch burning like acid on your highly sensitive skin. God, how often you longed for his touch, to feel his tender fingertips one last time. But this is not right. The thought of his hands caressing you after fondling with other woman makes you want to vomit and burn alive.

“Get your dirty hands off me!”, you cry out, other hand slapping against his cheek at high tempo.

His infinity doesn’t stop your fist from hitting his face with full force. You stare at his motionless figure, breath hanging heavy between the both of you.

“Please, give me a minute to explain. The last few weeks were absolute hell for me and I’ve been dying to see you today.”

Hot tears swell up your eyes once more while agony seems to consume you all over again. Hell for him? What about you? The constant feeling of not being enough, the questions lingering your mind how long this has been going on behind your back, the endless waterfall of tears, not being able to drink enough to forget him.

“You have to be kidding. Tell me you’re not serious about that bullshit. Hell for you? You fucking ripped be apart, Satoru! You throw our life away for sex with a few young chicks! You have no right to be sad about anything!”, you scream on top of your lungs, fighting desperately to escape his scorching touch around your wrist.

“I didn’t cheat on you, (y/n)! I-“

“So I’ve been imagining these pictures of you on top of that slut and the countless messages? Stop this shit right now! You’ve done enough. You-“

“Listen to me, damn it!”, he yells, ruffling his messy hair.

Why? Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in your already throbbing wound? Everything was just fine, you two were inseparable. What about growing old together? What about building a live together? All that, gone in the wind. Just because he decided to fuck someone else.

“The man you see on these pictures isn’t me, I don’t know these women, (y/n). I began to investigate. The man you see is a cursed spirit, a damn strong one that is able to take on the appearance of other living being, including my handsome self. I wish I could tell you why, I wish I could tell you who the hell that woman is. We assume that someone wants to set you off against me so that we both get vulnerable.”

He tears the blindfold from his face, revealing tears that glister in his glossy eyes. Your heart sinks, all you can do is stare at him in a desperate attempt to understand what he’s saying. Can it…be true?

“We?”

“Nanami helped me out. He knows this technical stuff better than I do. (y/n), I would never hurt you like that, not in a million years. You mean everything to me, it kills me to see you hurt like that, even though I absolutely understand why you believed in all of this and didn’t wanna talk with me. Just please, I’m begging on my knees if I have to, give me a chance to find out more about this madness and trust me with this one.”

You don’t know what is happening to you, it feels like you’re going to puke. Is this really true? Did he in fact not cheat on you with these women? His explanation sounds plausible and the shimmer in his eyes tells you that he’s not lying. Satoru was always bad at not telling the truth, his pupils always widen. Not right now though.

You want to collapse on the floor, your head seems to weight a ton from all these emotions, thoughts and possibilities.

“Why didn’t you tell me right from the start?”, you blurt out, voice coated in anger.

“Would you have really listened to me if I had no evidence? I took photos with that thing and couldn’t hold myself back from killing that fucker. Nanami was with me. Please, (y/n). Please believe me.”

You take in the pictures, how there seems to be two Gojo’s in each one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all too much. You don’t know what to think or feel. Is this true? Is there really something like a spark of hope left for your relationship?

“No”, you confirm.

You close your eyes for a moment to organize your thoughts and calm your breathing. All this time, Satoru never showed any interest in other woman, he doesn’t even stay in contact with Mei or Shoko regularly. He has no problem with you using your phone to write messages to Nanami or Yuji when he’s busy with something else. No, since you’ve known him, there was never a cause for concern. Satoru tells you over and over again how much he loves you, sometimes you even thought that he might be obsessed with you.

Maybe he didn’t cheat, maybe he did. But doesn’t your longtime boyfriend deserve a trust bonus, a chance to show you that nothing ever happened between him and these women?

When you open your eyes again, they are pooled by tears. Since that dreadful evening, you never allowed yourself to miss, let alone think about him. You tried to drown your feelings in alcohol and drugs. But now he’s standing in front of you, everything could be fine, all of this could be nothing but a failed attempt to separate the two of you. Deep within, you always hoped for it to be a nightmare, a stupid misunderstanding. Is that all it is?

“I-I thought I’ve l-lost you forever”, you stutter.

He doesn’t hesitate. In an instant he pulls you into his arms, presses your body against his beating heart and trembling frame. God, how much you missed getting lost in his warm embrace, to feel his breath brush against your ears. Just now you realize how much it killed you to be away from him.

“Can’t imagine how much I missed you. The thought of losing you…”, his voice breaks and so does your heart.

“I love you Satoru. I love you more than anything else.”

You get lost against his lips, put all the grief of the last weeks into this one kiss.

“Let’s get home, shall we?”, he whispers against your lips.

“Home. Yeah, that sounds pretty good…”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satorou

[animentality]

I have a theory that the reason Gortash reacts so angrily to the "I always liked you too" line isn't just because he feels betrayed.

It's because the one person in the whole world that he could truly trust... is confirming what he always suspected, but never knew for sure, here, at the eleventh hour, when it hardly matters at all. Maybe he spent weeks after the Dark Urge's death, thinking about them and realizing the old adage of, you never really appreciate what you have until you lose it. Because Gortash isn't truly friends with anyone. He lies to everyone he meets. He keeps people at arms length.

Except for the Dark Urge, his only equal, someone he intends to share power with. Someone he doesn't lie to.

And they just told him that it was real. That the Dark Urge he knew did care about him.

And he's angry because they chose now to say this... and he can't help but think why did my dark urge have to go and die? didn't they know they were all I had?

that fool.

that weak, pitiful, damnable fool.

I think that fury isn't just betrayal. it's anger at someone who's long gone. it's the unexpected hurt of loss, all over again. and most importantly.

it's a newly understood grief, as he finally accepts that his durge is well and truly dead.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #dark urge #durgetash

[hanafubukki]

Malleus Draconia’s Selflessness/His Love Towards Lilia and Silver

AKA Damnit Malleus, I thought you were a dragon. Can’t you be a bit more selfish?!

This new update brought with it many new lore that we have been anticipating.

We learned about Malleus’ birth.

But you know what else this lore drop revealed? His insecurities and his selflessness.

Malleus is furious about the senate lying to him about his birth and his grandmother lying as well.

(And then we think about all those instances where he ate alone, where his grandmother canceled on him, where only Lilia was the sole companion who understood him and loved him. Can you blame him for being angry?)

When Lilia was waking up, he tried to persuade Lilia with the perfect dream.

Malleus: "What dream would you like to have? A dream where both father and mother are alive? Or would you prefer a dream where you and your son live peaceful lives? I will give you anything and everything you wish for-

(Source)

And this, this statement says it all doesn’t it?

He told Lilia he would give him the perfect dream. What would he like? One where mother and father is alive?

One where Lilia and his son live peaceful lives?

Malleus was never included in those choices. He was never an option.

We saw that Lilia’s happiest moment was Malleus hatching and yet, Malleus doesn’t see it that way.

He saw the pain and suffering he caused. The endless struggles he constantly faced. He felt betrayed by his grandmother and the senate.

All this time, Lilia has done so much for him and he didn’t even know!

So he asks Lilia, what would he like the most. Surely a dream where Meleanor or Levan will make him happy? Or one where he lives peacefully with his son??

Never including himself, never allowing himself to be included, because he didn’t know. He only brought pain and suffering to Lilia. He didn’t know that Lilia hatched him.

Malleus couldn’t love and appreciate Lilia like the way he deserved because of this.

So he’ll give him what he knows made Lilia happy, his parents and Silver.

Also, let’s focus on that point, Malleus called Silver Lilia’s son. Malleus acknowledges Silver has Lilia’s son. He knows how much Lilia loves Silver and vice versa.

He’s happy for them.

After all, he did this for Silver.

He did this for Lilia.

Because of how much he loves them.

And then let’s go back, Malleus not acknowledging the happy scene of his birth.

Because to acknowledge such a scene means he has to acknowledge what he didn’t have, what he lost, and what he could have had.

He could have been with Lilia.

Lilia could have been with him, raised him and loved him. Just like he did with Silver. He could have had it too.

But you know what? Never had Malleus shown that he was jealous or insecure about it because he loves them.

Yes, he could have had it too. Practically yearned for it.

But he didn’t. All because he’s been lied to.

And because he didn’t know.

So he believes he doesn’t deserve it, shouldn’t acknowledge it.

Because he caused pain and because of what he could have had.

I have no doubt in my mind that Malleus would have gladly given his name away to become Malleus Vanrouge or even a mix of Malleus Draconia-Vanrouge (and wouldn’t that have been a great F U to the senate?)

But Lilia wouldn’t let him because that would look down on the sacrifices of Malleus’ parents and their love for him. But Lilia knows how much Malleus cares and would have given up for him. Knows how Malleus would feel.

With the way Malleus was raised by the senate? He wouldn’t be able to call him father no matter how much he wants to. I wouldn’t be surprised if as a child, he would refer (or try at least once) to Lilia as such but would then be scolded by his teachers.

So what can Malleus do but not acknowledge such feelings? Especially now when he realizes what he could have had and lost and what those he love sacrificed the most for.

So Lilia loves Malleus and vice-versa.

Each loves secretly.

One knowing the pain he inflicts and the other unknowing until recently.

But there’s doubt about it, Lilia loves Malleus.

He is his son in everything but name and blood.

And now, Malleus knows too.

Lilia and Silver taught him so much and gave him a home and place of comfort and family. So when he saw them suffering due to time?

It makes him try harder, to make them happy, even if he’s not in the picture anymore.

(Heard about that before haven’t we? -sigh-)

[For a dragon, you can be a bit more selfish Malleus. But you were born from Lilia, one of the most selfless character there is, so it’s not a surprise you are the way you are.]

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #silver vanrouge #diasomnia #twst book 7 #twst analysis #twst character analysis #twst malleus draconia

[tintinwrites]

minor feelings | Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: I missed Din! I hope you guys enjoy!

Rating: 18+ for sexual themes

Warning: This is Fem!reader so she/her pronouns are used in the fic. This story deals with graphic sexual discussions as well as sexual harassment. Quite a few naughty words. Some light violence, but nothing really atypical for Star Wars.

Word Count: 2,017, apparently!!

Summary: You and Mando are hunting down a quarry, who you painfully discover is someone from your past.

You looked around the dimly lit cantina in search of Mando’s newest quarry, listening to the sounds of cups hitting tables and a dozen conversations. You’d hear bits and pieces of some of them; two men were talking about a project at their work, a couple in the corner wasn’t being subtle about exactly what they were going to do to each other once they were home alone.

You’d been traveling with Mando for a few months now, hopping between a glorified babysitter and a bounty hunting assistant. You found the baby a little easier to deal with at first, but the more you helped him with quarries and the more he trusted you with more responsibilities, the more you started to like that too.

And you were getting pretty damn good at it if you did say so yourself.

There was just one slight problem.

“You know, this might be easier if I knew who I was looking for.” You smiled over the alcoholic drink you were sipping, trying not to laugh at his forgetfulness and your stupidity.

There was a drink in front of Mando too, obviously untouched given his rules regarding his helmet. The waitress had been so pushy, he’d given in and grunted out an obviously very enthusiastic ‘fine’ to get her to leave him alone. “Oh. Right.”

He slid the puck over to you and you grabbed it before it could fall off the table, pressing the button to pull up the hologram that would show you the face and details of the quarry it was tracking. When you saw the familiar face spinning around, showing you every unforgettable angle, the puck slipped from your hand and clattered to the table.

“What’s wrong?” Mando asked, helmet tilting up to follow your movements as you quickly moved out of the booth and backed away.

“I…I just remembered something. Be right back.” You bolted out of the cantina before he could say anything, pausing when you saw all the people that were loitering outside of the entrance.

You could feel your chest constricting and tears were blurring your vision, so you ducked into the alleyway between the cantina and another building to gather yourself privately. You pressed your back against the wall and closed your eyes, willing yourself to calm down.

You knew this quarry. Years ago, years before Mando, when you were just some nobody on a nowhere planet, just going about your daily life like anybody else.

He was handsome and charming, he made you laugh, he knew just where to touch you, and it was all so perfect. All his promises to get you off that planet, to take you to see the worlds and the stars you’d never seen before, made your fantasies of being more seem like they were within your reach.

But those promises were made while his hands were wandering over your body. Love was only whispered in your ear when he was inside you. And when you found him using those same words on another dreamy-eyed woman, you realized everything was a lie.

He wasn’t going to take you to see other planets or to have these grand adventures; no, he just wanted to soften you up, to make you pliable under his touch so he could take what he desired.

He was angry when you told him you didn’t want to see him again. Angry. As if he hadn’t lied to you and betrayed you, as if you were the one who was going around lying to people until they fucked you. You should have been angry, but instead you were calm in your hurt and busied yourself with anything that didn’t let you think of him.

He left your planet anyway. Whether to go on those promised adventures or because all the other people he fucked finally figured him out, you didn’t know.

“Well, I picked a good time to take a leak, huh?” That voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now and you tensed against the wall, refusing to open your eyes.

But you heard footsteps approaching and stopping in front of you, and you would much rather watch his every move and pretend he didn’t affect you. You slowly opened your eyes to confirm it was him, standing with his usual cocky flair, an arrogant smirk on his lips.

His eyes trailed over your form, not even trying to be subtle. “You’ve held up.”

You weren’t going to let him get to you, damn it. You set your shoulders and stood up a little straighter, leveling your gaze. “People don’t tend to fall apart after three years, Zandraul.”

“Ooh, you’ve built a little fire. I remember when you were that doe-eyed little girl, desperate to keep people happy with you.”

It occurred to you that you didn’t need to stand there and listen to him act like a dick, but he grabbed your arm the moment you turned to leave. “Get your hand off me or you’re gonna fucking lose it.”

He released you and raised his hands in a false show of surrender, laughing softly. “Oh, come on, didn’t you miss me? What do you say I fuck you again for old time’s sake? You might be acting all tough, but I bet there’s a part of you that still likes to please people.”

The call of your name at the end of the alleyway stopped your response, and you were embarrassed at the relief that flooded you when you saw Mando. He seemed to survey the situation before he decided to approach, his hand near his blaster. You wanted to stand your ground and hold your own, but Zandraul’s presence brought up too many mind-clouding feelings for you to be especially brave.

“Oh, so that’s how you got away from that skughole. A tin can.”

“You know him?” There was a lilt to Mando’s tone that told him he’d figured out your reaction to the hologram now.

You opened your mouth to tell him yes, but could only squeak as Zandraul wrapped an arm around you and yanked you into his side. “We were good friends back home, weren’t we, sweetheart? Good friends.”

Fresh tears swam in your eyes and you tried to meet Mando’s through his visor, hoping he could understand by just a look that you didn’t want to be near this man. He moved closer and reached out a hand to try and guide you away.

“We were just leaving.” His gloved fingers nearly touched your arm before Zandraul yanked you out of his reach, stepping back. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before it lowered, fingers curling near his blaster again.

“I didn’t even know Mandalorians could fuck, but I guess anyone would give up celibacy for a night with you.” Zandraul squeezed you meaningfully. “No wonder he’s gotten you this far. You showed a virgin the time of his life.”

You didn’t know whether or not Mandalorians did take a vow of celibacy, but somehow you highly doubted it. Regardless, your body did heat up at his degrading words and at the thought of being with Mando in that way. Of course you’d think of it from time to time. But that was just it because you were almost certain he didn’t view you that way.

“Let me go, Zandraul, we don’t need to do this.” You shoved at his side, letting out a sigh of relief when he actually let you break away.

“Sure, sure, leave me again. But I just wanna give your new guy a few pointers.” He approached Mando with a saunter; they were the same height, eyes level.

“I’m not interested in any pointers.” Mando gestured for you to come to him, but Zandraul quickly blocked his view of you to grab his attention again.

“She has this spot on her neck that drives her crazy, if you ever take off your helmet.” He glanced back at you for a moment, basking in your humiliation as he told your companion who you admired such intimate details about you. “And if you tell her you’ll take her to see the entire galaxy? You don’t even have to follow through for her to suck your cock.”

In a flash, Mando’s hands were fisted in the front of Zandraul’s shirt and he was slamming the other man against the cantina wall, letting his head bounce off of it. It dazed the other man enough for Mando to throw him to the ground, before he glanced at you. “Go back to the ship and check on Grogu.”

There was no concern for Grogu, you knew he was safe, but Mando’s tone told you that he was about to do something you didn’t want to witness. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, shock coursing through you as he loomed over Zandraul.

“Go now.”

You finally got your legs to move and you walked back to the ship in almost a daze, finding that the baby was safely asleep. You sank down onto the cot just to breathe for a moment, shuddering as you thought of Zandraul’s hands on you and the way he spoke about you.

You supposed Mando had taken the opportunity to secure the quarry while he was busy talking about you. You struggled to be proud of your involvement this time.

After a few moments, boots could be heard against the metal floor of the ship and you anxiously stood, ready to defend yourself.

Then came Mando with an unconscious Zandraul over his shoulder, briefly disappearing so he could stick him in a slab of carbonite. When he reappeared, he simply walked past you and headed into the cockpit. You didn’t know what to say or if you should stop him.

So you just sat there for a little while until you had calmed down enough to fully think straight, wondering if you should thank Mando even if what he did was just a means to an end. You warred with yourself and ultimately decided that you should thank him anyway.

Zandraul was right. You did still like to please people.

You climbed the ladder to the cockpit and stood there in silence for a few moments as you thought of what to say, staring at the back of his helmet. “—Mando?”

He turned his head just enough to let you know he was listening.

“I know you just needed to bag him because he was a quarry, but thank you. I don’t need to tell you the details for you to know that we have a…history.” There was no response and you waited for one, but turned to go when a couple moments of silence passed.

“If I was worried about him being the quarry, I would’ve just cuffed him.”

Your head lifted and you felt new tears in your eyes as his words sank in. Different tears. Almost happy. The kind that made something inside your chest bloom. He attacked Zandraul for you, not for the credits he’d receive in return for his delivery.

You turned and rushed to his side, but realized you didn’t know what your plan was. What were you going to do? Part of you wanted to kiss him, but his helmet was in the way and you didn’t know how he would even feel about a kiss. Another part of you wanted to hug him, but it would be awkward with him seated.

Your hand fell to his arm and, as his helmet tilted to look at it, you placed a kiss where you thought his cheek might be. The metal was cool against your lips, nothing like kissing someone’s face, but the gesture remained the same.

He just gazed at you with eyes you couldn’t see, silently, not showing any signs that he appreciated it but not berating you either.

You smiled softly. “Thank you, Mando.”

As you walked back to the ladder to leave him be and not bother him anymore, you missed his hand raising to delicately touch where your lips had been.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandalorian fic #din djarin fic

[thepurplewombat]

The Sin List

okay, so as we all know, it is vitally important that any character we stan must be morally pure and a good example to emulate in real life.

So I have decided to create a list of MDZS characters and their sins, which everyone can easily refer to in order to make sure that they are not following some horrible criminal or murderer!

This was a lot of work, but I'm very proud of it. Just doing my bit to ensure the moral purity of the fandom!

Wei Wuxian - Necromancy, disrespecting his elders, disrespecting the dead, killed Jin Zixuan, punched Jin Zixuan in the face one time, cannibalism, mind control, deviant sexual fantasies, trespassing, oath-breaking, urged Wen Qing to perform untested and possibly fatal operation on Jiang Cheng without his consent.

Lan Wangji - Defied his elders, broke the Lan Clan rules, sexually assaulted Wei Wuxian, deviant sexual fantasies, GBH (JGY)

Jin Guangyao - betrayed and killed Wen Ruohan, betrayed and killed Jin Guangshan, murder (NMJ), murdered assorted people, disrespecting the dead, assorted Spy Things for Wen Ruohan.

Nie Mingjue - Killed a lot of people during the war, verbally abused Nie Huaisang, burned Nie Huaisang's stuff, attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), murder (JGY), killed the Mo family (well, his arm did anyway). In favor of the genocide of the Wen Remnants

Jin Guanshan: Sexual assault, rape, murder, ordering human experimentation with resentful energy to be done by his sect, played both sides during the war, didn't take responsibility for his children, ultimately responsible for getting WWX killed because he wanted the YTT so bad

Wen Ruohan: Attempted world domination, murder etc

Lan Qiren: has a stick up his ass

Su Minshan: Refused to die for the Lan, supported JGY in his efforts to prevent undead Da-ge from killing him. Also cursed Jin Zixun.

Sect Leader Yao: Weathervane politician

Jiang Wanyin: strangled Wei Wuxian that one time, keeps trying to talk to him but is way too tsundere about it, killed many during the war, didn't immediately forgive WWX for getting JYL killed, threatens to break Jin Ling's legs weekly.

Jin Ling: rude. rude rude rude. Also stabbed WWx one time

Lan Jingyi: not respecting his elders, rude rude rude. Also loud

JFM: shit dad, throw him in a volcano

Madame Yu: Angry mom, beat Wei Wuxian for things that weren't his fault, yelled at JC a lot, didn't appreciate JYL, very mean.

Lan Xichen: killed people during the war. Randomly starts doing flute solos in conversation

Meng Shi: was a prostitute. Told Meng Yao his dad was amazing and he should totally look him up later.

Madam Jin: awful person, she can go into the volcano with JFM. physical and verbal abuse (JGY)

Nie Huaisang: killed cats, nearly killed the juniors, let his sect fall into ruin, traded obscene materials, disrespecting his sect's traditions, lied to Lan Xichen to make him kill JGY

Wen Qing: went along with WRH's plans, performed surgery on JC without his consent

Wen Ning: Was part of the burning of LP

Mo Xuanyu: Summoned Satan to murder his relatives, harassed his brother

Jin Zixun: asshole, rude, broke the Geneva Convention on the ethical treatment of prisoners several times. Useless person

FOR THE SAKE OF SAFETY AND YOUR MORALS YOU ARE ONLY ALLOWED TO STAN THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS

Jiang Yanli

Qin Su

Lan Shizui

#Wombat rambles #wombat's danmei hours #Jin Guangyao #meng yao #Lan Xichen #LXC #My favourite son-in-law #best boy lan Xichen #not a himbo #mzds #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie huaisang #nie Mingjue #NONE OF YOU ARE FREE OF SIN

[heli-writes]

Seven summers, part 5.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fifth summer, August.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dear Draco,

I hope you're well. I am writing you this letter because I think we should talk about what happened last month.

I'm sorry I deceived you. I never meant to lie to you. At some point, I just didn't know how to say it. I wanted to tell you this summer, I swear! Then we kissed and everything was so different than expected. I just didn't have the courage to...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dear Draco,

I know you're angry and you have every right to be. Please believe me when I say I didn't mean to betray you. Actually, until our third summer, I didn't know you were a wizard. I just thought it was a culture thing. Then, after you told me how you feel about muggles, I was afraid to tell you. I thought you'd hate me too. Please, don't hate me. I don't know what...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco,

Please, give me one chance to explain myself. You've left without hearing my side. Hear me out and I promise...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco,

I'm sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frustrated, y/n throws her pen onto her desk. There are dozens of crumpled papers around her. In the last two hours, she started the same letter to Draco over and over again but so far, she hasn't found the right words to say. Not that it really matters. Without Draco's owl which regularly visited her for the past two years, she doesn't have a way to contact him. Apparently, wizards don't have a phone. Y/N takes out the trashcan from beneath her desk and swipes all the papers into it in one big swoop. Afterward, she groans and falls onto her bed face down. There's nothing to do in her room but to brood on the whole Draco situation. Supposedly, it is not necessary to mention that she's stuck in her room for two more weeks. After the night her parents had to pick her up at a train station in the middle of the night, of course, her parents asked questions. Questions that y/n couldn't answer without getting entangled in more and more lies. It all blew up in her face when her parents called Olivia's parents. After that, y/n had no other option but to tell them about the boy she's been seeing for a while. A long talk about sex trafficking and teenage pregnancy later, y/n got grounded for three weeks. I suppose I can be lucky I didn't get grounded for the entire summer holidays, she thinks to herself as she turns around to look for her phone only to realize that that's been taken away from her too. Suddenly, she's glad for the communication via owl. At least this way, her parents will find no messages that would incriminate her further. Y/n burries her face in a pillow and lets out a muffled scream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One week later

Y/n,

Don't think I am writing this because I have any concern for your muggle self. I don't care if you got home safely or not. Considering I got no news about a dead muggle girl in Salisbury, I suppose you live.

Honestly, I am just writing you this to draw a line under whatever it was that we did the last two years. I suppose even someone like you understands that a wizard like me cannot be associated with a muggle. It's absolutely absurd that I didn't notice it.

Just to make it absolutely clear: Don't tell anybody about me or the wizarding community or I can assure you the ministry will take care of you. Also, we're done.

D.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Puzzled, y/n blinks at the paper in front of her and then blinks at the owl that is sitting on her windowsill. Why on earth would he feel the need to write a letter like that, she questions herself. Obviously, she shouldn't tell anybody about wizards and after Draco's glorious exit at the inn, it should have been clear that they've broken up. Suddenly, she feels a hot pit of anger swelling in her stomach.

How dare he write a message like that, y/n thinks. Not a word from him for two weeks and then he sends me a threat and a break-up notice?, she fumes. She's not sure why he would risk getting caught writing to a muggle girl in the first place. Draw a line my ass, she thinks and rips up the letter into tiny little pieces. She watches the pieces float silently to her floor. Then, she pushes down her window with a loud bang, and glares at the owl for a few seconds, before turning away and continuing a half-finished jigsaw puzzle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few days later

Y/n,

Since the cover of the wizarding world hasn't been and there are no reports about a crazy woman talking about magic, I guess you didn't tell anybody about us. Good.

You know it really astonishes me how you managed to keep up the facade for so long. I never knew muggles could be this... adaptable. However, I think it was quite a malicious pretense of you. It makes me wonder if anything that you said or did was true. Not that it would matter to me.

Remember to keep quiet. I really can't have a muggle running around blabbering about wizard secrets.

D.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/n feels like she could spit fire. She lets out an angered scream and crumples up the letter. What a dick, y/n screams internally. I get he's angry at me, I get he doesn't want to so me anymore but what on earth is he trying to achieve with these letters?, y/n asks herself. She tries to shoosh Draco's owl away from her window. The owl lifts itself into the air and settles on a branch of the apple tree in y/n's garden. Y/n stares at the owl and the owl stares back. She turns away and throws Draco's letter into the trash bin. The anger made her feel too hot. Pulling her pullover over her head, she stumbles towards her closet and puts on a t-shirt. Meanwhile, she calls Draco all kinds of nasty names in her head. She no longer feels sorry. When she turns around, the owl sits at her windowsill again. Y/n rolls up a magazine and pokes the owl in the hope that it will take flight. The owl looks at her absolutely unbothered. Y/n pushes a bit harder and forces the owl towards the edge of the windowsill. Eventually, the owl gives up and glides to the apple tree again. "Go awaaaaay!!!", y/n yells out of her window and pulls her widow shut with a loud bang.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Another letter arrived a few days after that. It has a similar tone as the last two with an equal amount of insults towards muggle. Y/n is absolutely fuming. Draco's owl doesn't even bother leaving y/n's windowsill and already made itself comfortable. Y/n glares intently at the owl through her closed window. Finally, she pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen.

Draco,

I get it. I'm a stupid muggle and I shouldn't tell anybody about magic. I get it. You can stop sending letters now. You said we're done so I don't understand why you keep contacting me.

Don't get me wrong - I understand you're angry. I deceived you and breaking up with me is probably the right thing to do. I'm sorry I lied to you but I feel like you don't see why I acted this way. It's not like I knew that you were a wizard when we first met and when I got to know you, you started insulting people like me. What was I supposed to do? Have you ever considered that this world you live in intimidates me? Have you ever considered that maybe I was scared of losing what we had? Because I genuinely cared? I guess not.

Anyways, what's done is done. No need to dwell on it. Maybe it would do you good if you let go. It's time to get back to normal, don't you think?

Y/n.

Contently, y/n reads through her letter again. After folding it in two, she opens the window and holds it out towards the owl. The owl takes the letter without hesitation and takes off. Y/n watches the bird disappear into the grey clouds that hang low in the sky. Eventually, she closes the window and feels calmer than she has since the night at Stonehenge.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/n doesn't see any owl around her window for a little over the week. She's not grounded anymore for a couple of days. She spent the days in freedom by accompanying her mother to the dentist, to the supermarket, and to her auntie Paula. In short: her parents are still keeping her on a short leash. However, today she's allowed to meet a friend. Even if it's just to apologize. She's meeting Olivia in town. Olivia and her already texted after y/n got her phone back. So Olivia knows the gist and luckily she's not angry. Actually, being the teenage girl she is, Olivia is very excited to hear all about the mysterious guy y/n got herself in trouble for. It's the least thing y/n wants to talk about but it's only fair she owes Olivia some kind of explanation.

Y/n is getting ready in her room. Her mother already called her down several minutes ago. Obviously, she isn't allowed to take the bus by herself. Rummaging through her make-up bag y/n is trying to find a lip balm for her purse when she suddenly hears a soft clank on the window. By now, y/n knows the sound all too well. The sound of a beak on glass. She shoots around and is face to face with Draco's owl. For a moment, y/n contemplates not opening the window and leaving the owl where it is. At some point, it must get hungry and fly off again, right? However, curiosity killed the cat and y/n is pretty sure Draco will be the death of her. So she quickly opens the window, rips the letter out of the owl's beak and stuffs the letter into her bag. Her mother is already calling for her again and without looking back, y/n takes off.

"We pick you up exactly at 4 pm and the café, understand y/n?", her mother lectures her. "I expect you both to be there. I want to apologize to Olivia's parents in person.", she tells y/n. Y/n groans and pulls her hood over her face. "Didn't you already apologize on the phone? Can't we finally leave this behind? Obviously, I learned my lesson.", y/n begs. Her mother gives her a sharp look in the rear-view mirror of their car. "That's not of you to decide. You will have to earn our trust back.", her mother points out. Y/n knows her mother is right, but it still feels unfair. It was a horrible experience inside and out and y/n wants nothing more than to just forget about it. Her mother turns her attention back to the road. Y/n crosses her arms in front of her chest. Suddenly, she remembers the letter again. It's still sitting in her bag unopened. Carefully, she takes it out. She holds it low, close to her lap, so her mother wouldn't see.

Y/n,

Meet me today at Trafalgar Square. 3 pm sharp.

D.

Y/n stares at the message in disbelief. Is he joking? Is this some kind of setup? So that they can grab her and make her disappear or whatever wizards do to normal people who accidentally get to know about magic? Yeah, no, I'm absolutely not going., y/n thinks. Somehow she wishes Draco had a phone so that she could react to this message with a couple of middle finger emojis. She crumples up the paper and stuffs it back into her back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Olivia's already waiting when her mother drops her off. She even gets out of the car to exchange some words with Olivia and to make sure her parents are really picking her up. Y/n can feel her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. However, Olivia takes it cool. She answers y/n's mother's question politely and acts as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened since the last time she's seen her.

This attitude drops really fast once y/n's mom is back in the car and out of sight. Olivia turns around, makes a squeaking sound, and says: "You need to tell me everything!". Apparently, y/n must've had a really dumb look on her face. "C'mon, y/n! My parents told me all about your lie.", Olivia grins. Once they've settled in a quiet niche at the café, Olivia looks at y/n expectantly. Y/n sighs. After all, she knew she had to talk about this. "Look, Olivia, I'm really sorry about all of this. I shouldn't have you involved in my lie. I-i was stupid and I really learned my-", y/n starts but Olivia immediately interrupts her. "Yes, yes! Save that speech for my parents. I get it, you lied. More importantly, you met a boy.", Olivia says and wiggles her eyebrows. "More like a massive jerk.", y/n deadpans. Olivia nods agreeingly. "And yet you lied so that you can spend a weekend with him all alone.", Olivia grins and gives her the look. Y/n sighs. "It's not like you think.", y/n tries to argue. "Riiiight... that's why you hid him from your parents.", Olivia says and crosses her arms. Y/n sighs and stirs her drink. "Well, fine, we've been together since Christmas and wanted to spend some time together in the summer.", she says defeatedly. "First of all, it's not. Second of all, since Christmas? Why am I only hearing now about it?", Olivia asks. Y/n shrugs. "It's not like I've been seeing him a lot since then. He goes to a boarding school and is only around in the summer and for Christmas.", she points out. Olivia thinks about this for a moment. "So, you've been just texting?", Olivia says unconvinced. "If that's your way of asking if we were screwing the answer is no. We've only been... uh, texting.", y/n says. Olivia crunches her eyebrows. "This is less juicy than expected. But did you kiss? And what about the weekend away? That sounds like a perfect opportunity to lose your v-card.", Olivia keeps asking. Y/n blushes. "V-card? Really? That's so lame, Olivia.". Olivia shrugs. "I'm not saying I'm supporting the patriarchal idea of virginity but the first time is special and exciting for everyone, isn't it?", she argues. Y/n shrugs. "I wouldn't know. Again, nothing happened. We only kissed.", she underlines her point. Suddenly, there's a glint in Olivia's eyes. "Ooohhh... you kissed? Was it good?", she asks teasingly. Y/n snips a small ball of paper at Olivia. "I mean, yes, but it doesn't matter. We broke up.", she says solemnly. "Clearly, otherwise your parents wouldn't had to pick you up at the station in the middle of the night.", Olivia points out, "What happened? You two had a fight?". Y/n shrugs. She feels her eyes burning. She thought she was over it. Really, she thought that Draco's stupid letters made her angry enough to forget how deeply the whole thing hurt her. "Yes. He expected me to be something I'm not. Took of when he noticed and left me behind.", y/n says. Olivia looks at her for a moment. "Let me guess. He wanted to screw you and when you didn't want to he dropped you? Man, guys suck.", Olivia takes a guess. Y/n shakes her head. "No, that wasn't it. He was actually super respectful. It was more like... a rich asshole finding out your common trash.", y/n lies. "Oof... he comes from old money? That kind of guy?", Olivia asks. Y/n nods. "Yup, that kind of guy.", she says. "Well good thing you didn't screw him. Those are the worst baby daddies.", Olivia nods as if she had any more experience with these things than y/n had. "Olivia, can you take this serious?", y/n says frustrated.

Olivia holds up her hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right. ... So you didn't hear anything from him ever since?", she asks. Y/n puffs and puts her hair up in a messy loop. All this talk got her warm. "Oh, I heard from him, believe me.", she says angrily. "That doesn't sound good. What did he say?", Olivia asks. "Oh, he told me what a terrible person I am alongside some threats not to tell anybody.", she tells her. Olivia slurps a bit of her drink watching her intensely. "Ah, afraid about his reputation? So, he's an arrogant prick.", Olivia points out. Y/n nods. "Yeah, and look at what he sent me today.", y/n says and pulls out Draco's note. Olivia raises a brow and takes the piece of paper. "Old fashioned, I see.", Olivia mumbles and quickly reads through the note. "I really don't get it. He tells me he doesn't want to see me anymore and then he keeps sending me messages and now he wants to meet? Why on earth would I want to see him after everything? After he said these terrible things to me?", y/n rambles. Olivia gives her a side-eye and slides the paper back to her. "Well, isn't it obvious?", Olivia says matter-of-factly. "No.", y/n states bluntly. Olivia shrugs. "He's hooked. He doesn't want to mingle with a poor commoner, he's afraid about his reputation but he also can't let go.", Olivia explains. Y/n laughs into her face. "Sure, that's why he keeps lashing out at me.", she argues. Olivia shrugs. "Maybe he's not a good communicator and that's the only way he knows how to keep in touch with you. Or he's too proud to admit he likes you even though you don't have the same social status as him.", Olivia thinks out loud. Actually, she might be right, a voice in y/n's head says. Y/n shakes her head. "So?", Olivia asks. "So what?", y/n asks back. "Are you going to meet him?" Y/n looks at Olivia as if she's grown three heads. "Are you insane? Absolutely not!", she exclaims. Olivia shrugs. "You liked him enough to pull off this big-ass lie to get a weekend with him. And now you don't want to give him another chance?", Olivia questions her. Y/n kneads her hands. "I- it's... Look, he left me at a creepy in, in the middle of the night, in a town I don't know. Then he keeps pointing out what a low-life I am compared to him via text. Why would I want to see him again?", she exclaims. Olivia looks at her softly. "Because you have feelings for him? Clearly enough for his words to still hurt you. You guys could either reconcile or you can give him a piece of your mind.", Olivia argues. Y/n turns her head away like a frustrated toddler. "My mother would ground me forever.", she says. Olivia sighs. "Stop finding excuses to not face him. I'll stay here in case your mom shows up early. It's still early, you can catch the next bus.", Olivia says determinedly. Y/n looks at her blankly trying to come up with another reason to not go, but she draws a blank. "Don't look at me so stupidly, go!", Olivia ushers her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Y/n wraps her jacket around her. Even though it's summer and it's warm, she still feels cold. And nervous. And very uncomfortable. Olivia dragged her to the bus stop, shoved her into the bus, and before y/n could fathom what was happening, she was already standing on Trafalgar Square. She tries not to look around and search for him. She doesn't want to look desperate or give him the satisfaction of knowing she missed him, which she, of course, did not.

"Y/n", a familiar voice said behind her. Y/n turns around to Draco standing behind her. Suddenly all oxygen is knocked out of her lungs. She's not sure whether it's because she doesn't know what to say to him or because he is as good-looking as she remembers him. She wished her initial reaction to him would be repulsion, which would be an appropriate reaction she thinks. However, her heart takes a leap and she feels warm in places she shouldn't feel warm at all. Draco doesn't take his hands out of his pockets and y/n doesn't move her arms away from her chest. "You wanted to meet?", is all she can croak out. He nods without looking into her eyes. When he doesn't say anything. "Well, what do you have to say? Make it quick, I'm already in trouble.", she asks. Suddenly, but slowly, y/n can feel her anger returning in her chest. Draco's eyes snap to hers. "Don't you have anything to say?", he asks back. Y/n shrugs. "If you're looking for an apology, I've already given you one in writing.", she bites back. Draco frowns. "Really, that's all you've got to say to me?", he says bitterly. Y/n stares back at him irritated. "Well, what do you want me to say?", she asks.

Suddenly, Draco looks really helpless. "Well... I... you... I thought...", he tries looking for words. Y/n waits patiently. Let him struggle, she thinks. Draco stomps his foot on the ground angrily. "You lied to me!", he blurts out. Y/n huffs. "Firstly, I gave you an apology for that. Secondly, I never claimed to be a witch. You assumed it, which I didn't get at first, and then I just went with it.", she exclaims. Draco looks at her angrily. "Well, why would you go with it? I don't get it.", Draco argues. "Because I was thirteen years old, you just abducted me in a magical alleyway and then you go off about how awful people like me were. I was scared!", y/n blurts out a bit too loudly and Draco shushes her. "You telling me you were scared of me?", Draco hisses back quietly. Y/n lifts her hands above her hands frustratedly. "Yes! Of course! You grew up with magic, it's natural and everyday life for you! It's not for me. It scared me shitless because I suddenly didn't know what's real and possible anymore. Also, you literally told me your kind could wipe us out!", y/n whisper yells back at him. This stuns Draco for a moment. "I didn't say that.", he tells her. "Don't gaslight me, Draco. Yes, you gave me shit about muggleborns and muggles and then you told me wizards could literally wipe muggles off the face of earth.", y/n argues. Draco is quiet for a moment then points out: "If you are so scared of me, why did you continue to see me?". Y/n shrugs. "You're an arrogant prick, Draco, but you're also my first friend since I moved overseas.", she tells him. Draco is too stunned to speak. Y/n pushes her hands through her hair. "Look, I should've told you. Yes, at first I was scared and then... I don't know. You were my friend, Draco, I didn't want to lose that.", she sighs. Draco turns his head away. "That's what I am to you? A friend?", he mumbles. Y/n stares at him in disbelief. He's hooked, that's what Olivia said. Maybe she's right, y/n thinks. "For a while.", she tells him, "Obviously not since Christmas. Which didn't exactly make it easier to tell you.". Draco turns back to without meeting her eyes. "It would've been better to tell me than let me find out his way.", he says. Y/n looks at him softly. "Of course. It's definitely not how I wanted it to come out. But in all honesty... would the outcome be any different if I had told you? You always let me know how little you think of muggles. You still would've broken up with me.", she points out to him. Draco stays quiet and shrugs. "I don't know. Probably. It's not like we could be together like this.", he says. Y/n nods. "Yeah, guess it's against the law for people like us to be together. Your wizard police probably would have to erase my memories or something.", she says. Draco shrugs again. "It's... it's not against the law, actually. There are plenty of mixed couples.", he relents, "But my parents would never accept you". Y/n gives him a confused look. "Your parents?", she asks him. "No offense, Draco, but I don't give a fuck about your parents. I was concerned about you accepting it. You didn't strike me with the open-minded, tolerant mindset, you know.", she tells him. Draco looks away again. He seemed to be ashamed. "Look, I know I said some horrible things, but...", he starts. "But what?", y/n interrupts him, "You made it pretty clear what you think about people like me. Don't try to tell me you've changed suddenly. Because I don't buy it." Draco looks down in defeat. Y/n feels like it's the first time he's been called out on his racist attitude. She pulls her jacket closer around her body. Good, she thinks. "You're right.", he tells her, "And I'm sorry for the things I said. Actually, I've been thinking a lot about it". "About what?", she asks. "Muggles... and you, I guess.", he says. "Elaborate.", y/n simply demands. Draco shrugs and huffs. "Well, you see... I never had any contact with muggles. All I knew about your world, is what my parents told me.", he tries to explain.

Y/n starts shaking her head. "Nu-uh. Don't blame this on your parents. That's an excuse when you're six years old. At some point, you're old enough to question the things your parents say. You're old enough to understand the world and how human beings treat each other", y/n calls him out. Draco nods in defeat. "Yes, and I never did. I never questioned it. But I've been questioning it since I found out you're a muggle.", he tells her. Y/n rolls her eyes. "Oh, so it's been an eye-opening event, yes? Sorry, but years of internalized racism don't go away because you have one friend who is different.", she says bitterly. Draco nods again. "Probably not.", he admits, "but it did change my mind a little bit. I always had this idea how muggles are. You know, dumb, different." "Thank you.", y/n says dryly. Draco takes his hands out of his pocket and waves them in front of him in defense. "No, that's not... ugh. I mean, I realized that you're not that different from us. I mean I didn't notice you weren't a witch for years. I guess I'm the dumb one.", he explains. Y/n shrugs. "Sounds about right.", she tells him. "Doesn't mean you were right to not tell me.", he points out. Y/n shrugs again. "It wasn't. I was a coward and selfish.", she answers. "Sounds about right.", Draco repeats her sarcastically.

They stare at each other for a while in silence. "So, what now?", y/n asks. Draco shrugs. "Good talk, have a good live?", y/n suggests. Draco looks at her wide-eyed. "You want that?", he asks her. Y/n shrugs. "Do we have a different choice? Your parents will kill you when they find out about your muggle girlfriend. And my parents sure as hell will kill me if they find out I'm meeting the guy who stayed with me in an inn all alone for two days.", she declares. "You got in trouble with your parents?", Draco asks carefully. Y/n nods. "Yeah, what did you think? You left me at a magical inn in the middle of the night. Did you think I stayed and went home the next day like nothing happened? I went home in the middle of the night and my lie blew up in my face.", she tells him. Draco looks down ashamed. "I shouldn't have left you there.", he says. Y/n shrugs. "Whatever. Anyways, since our parents will not approve of this, probably better to call it off, eh?", she answers. Draco looks at her. Does he actually look sad?, y/n asks herself. "I mean... what if they don't know?", he asks quietly. Y/n laughs dryly at that. "Yeah, that worked out great the first time.", she says. Draco looks like she hit him in the face. "Because I was ignorant and you kept your secret. But we can do it differently this time.", he pleads with her and y/n thinks that it's a little bit pathetic. Also, she's really glad he is because right now her pride is in her own way. "You call me out when I'm a prick and you don't keep secrets.", he proposes. Y/n shrugs. "How about we both don't keep secrets?", she says carefully. Draco seems to cheer up immediately. "Deal.", he prompts. Y/n gives him a small smile.

Suddenly it's awkward between them. "Sooooo...?", y/n says and makes an awkward hand gesture. "So, we stay together?", Draco ends her sentence. "Yes?", y/n answers. "That doesn't sound convincing.", Draco deadpans. Y/n takes a deep breath. "Yes.", she tells him. Draco gives her a soft smile. "Now what?", y/n asks awkwardly. Draco shrugs. "We hug?", he proposes. Y/N smiley back. "Okay.", she replies. Awkwardly, they step forward and put their arms around each other. For a moment, y/n feels really uncomfortable. Then, Draco's smell hits her and he pulls her closer so that her face rests against his shoulder. Y/n's body instantly relaxes and she hugs him back closer. After a while, they loosen the hug a bit and are face-to-face with each other. "Do we...?", Draco asks carefully and y/n gives him a soft smile. "Yes.", she whispers and pulls his face towards hers. Their lips meet in a soft kiss and Draco leans in. Y/n would've enjoyed the kiss if her phone hadn't started vibrating in her pocket. Draco jumps back immediately. "What's that?", he stutters. "Just my phone.", she tells him and pulls it out of her pocket. It's Olivia.

"Hate to interrupt the moment, but it's half past three. We need to take the next bus back to the café.", Olivia's voice echoes on the other side of the phone. Y/n swirls around and looks around frantically. "On your right.", Olivia tells her and y/n catches her leaning on a streetlamp on the other side of the road. "How did you-?" "Get here?", Olivia finishes her sentence. "Didn't trust that guy and wanted to look after you. Seems like you didn' need me, bravo!", she tells y/n. "But seriously, we need to go." Y/n nods. "Alright, I'm coming.", she replies and hangs up. "I need to go.", she tells Draco. Draco's eyes are fixated on Olivia who gives him a short wave. "Does she know?", he asks her sharply. "About you and me? Yes. About you being a wizard? No. I keep my promises.", y/n tells him. Draco relaxes a bit and turns his gaze back to her. "You have to go?", he asks. "Yes, my mother picks me up soon. I'm already on thin ice with her. I'd rather not know what she'll do if she finds out about this.", she replies. Draco nods in agreement. "When will we see each other again?", he asks her hopefully. Y/n thinks about it for a moment. "Last week of the summer holidays? I might need some more time to convince my parents I won't do anything stupid.", y/n proposes. "Alright. Be careful. I'll send you an owl.", Draco says. Y/n nods and gives him a smile. They quickly hug each other and when y/n pulls away, Draco grabs her face and gives her a long, passionate kiss that leaves y/n breathless. She almost stumbles when he lets go of her. "See you soon, y/n.", Draco says softly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the next few weeks, y/n and Draco frequently exchanged letters. What happened in Salisbury is not spoken of anymore. However, Draco's tone and choice of words slightly changed. No snarky remarks about the muggle world anymore. Instead, he includes lengthy explanations about anything magical. Y/n thinks he is trying a little bit too hard, but is grateful nonetheless. Finally, she gets some context for some things he says. Meanwhile, y/n is a bit more open about her own life. About the movies she watches or the things she does with her friends. In a way, things are better now. Y/n doesn't carry around the weight of constant hiding and doesn't have to be careful about her words. Moreover, in Olivia, y/n finally found a friend who she can giggle about boys with and who can keep a secret.

Y/n and Draco met a few times at the end of August. Y/n showed her some muggle activities and Draco took her to Diagon Alley again and made her try all kinds of magical things. Of course, it's a risk to take y/n to magical places but Draco decided that y/n managed to blindside him for 5 years, others probably won't notice for like 5 Minutes. It's been a bliss, really. Finally, this feels like a real relationship to y/n. They're just some teenagers holding hands and making out and sneaking around their parents. Y/n wished these moments last forever but sooner or later September arrives and Draco has to go back to Hogwarts.

Y/n is standing at King's Cross. Draco and her are hiding behind a pillar at platform 8. He already crossed over to platform 9 3/4 20 minutes ago after saying goodbye to his parents. He came back to say goodbye to y/n a couple of minutes later. "It's only until Christmas.", Draco says as y/n clings to his chest. She buries her face into him. "I know, but somehow this feels worse than last year.", she mumbles. Draco rubs her back and grins. "Geez, I wonder why.", he says. Y/n pinches his arm. Draco lets go of her and rubs her arms. "I'll write you every week, I promise.", he tells her. "You should really get a phone. We could talk every day.", y/n argues. She's been trying to convince him for the past weeks. Communication would be so much easier. Also, her mum gets suspicious about the amount of bird shit that's on her windowsill. Fair enough, she doesn't seem to get that a literal owl is visiting her daughter. Instead, she gives y/n shit about feeding pigeons.

"Seriously, it won't be that bad. School starts soon and then we both have so much school work up our asses, we won't even notice until Christmas comes around.", Draco tries to soothe her. Y/n sighs. "I guess. I'll still miss you.", she tells him defeated. Draco smiles at her softly. "Yeah, I'll miss you too.", he replies. He leans down and gives her a kiss on the lips. Y/n's eyes flicker to the big clock behind Draco. "You have to go.", she points out and Draco nods. Y/n's lips form a thin line. She really hates this. Draco softly strokes over her cheek. "Yeah. See you soon, love. Don't miss me too much.", he says as he turns around to catch his train. Suddenly, y/n's face lits up. "Hey, Draco!", she yells after him. He turns around. "We've survived summer! In contrast to Blaise and that girl!", she yells. Draco laughs and shakes his head. "Well, at least I have something to brag about.", he laughs as he makes his way to platform 9 3/4.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @gypsylilim @caffeine-addict-slug @huiiline @rclector @am0iur @nofacenonamelikekira @0iheartu @jahaina @eringaitskill @jae-is-confused @stormy-stardust @a-beaverhausen @niyahzda1

[Please leave a note if you'd like to be tagged too.]

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfiction #wizarding world #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #slytherin #harry potter #draco x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader

[astyrial]

an unlikely duo suna rintarō x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: you're forced to figure skate with a well known hockey player word count: 1.3k warnings: mentions of skate blades masterlist | requests are open part 2 / part 3

    you've recently come to the conclusion that your hometown is far too obsessed with christmas events. one of them being that you have to perform a routine with a hockey player. one that has little to no finesse and lost the same lottery that you did (albeit, it was likely rigged by a close friend). your mind races with the thought of one of them accidentally slashing you while trying to perform with you. 

  a look of disgust crosses your face, and it goes far from unnoticed from your fellow figure skater, kiyoko, "it'll be fine, i have to perform with one too.."

  "yea, but you get to perform with your husband. who, by the way, has practiced figure skating with you. i'll probably get some macho, skating is just for hockey players, kind of guy," you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

  "it's going to be fine, y/n. i asked ryū if he thought the guy would be a good fit and he does! he doesn't know him super well, but this 'suna' seems like a nice guy."

  you shake your head, walking back towards the changing rooms so that you can put your skates on. of course she believes he'll give glowing reviews, he's tanaka. he's probably the friendliest guy you know and is always up for helping kiyoko set you up with people. 

  "you're doubting me, and my husband, aren't you?" kiyoko catches up to you, leaving the cork board filled with  papers behind. 

  with a short shrug, you turn to look at her, your eyebrows narrowed. every person that they set you up with in the past has not exactly been within your grasp. leaving you to awkwardly leave the date and never say anything again. now, though, you're forced to spend more than enough time with this mystery 'suna'. 

  "more like doubting that he'll be as nice as tanaka believes him to be-"

  "you know, he's fine with you calling him ryū. we both love you a lot, y/n. and we're both just looking out for you. you're like the little sister i never asked for," kiyoko instantly begins to laugh, nudging your arm as you sit on the room's benches, your hands reaching for your skates. 

  your mouth sits open for a second, shaking your head, "unbelievable, i can't believe i've been betrayed like this."

  kiyoko continues to laugh as she grabs her skates down, tying them around her ankles. you finish tying your own and slip your jacket off, turning to face her.

  "so, when do we start practicing for this thing?"

  "uh, well, today actually..." kiyoko doesn't look up at you, her lips pursed, her fingers still playing with her laces.

  you narrow your eyes at her, an amazed laugh somehow coming out of your mouth. with a sharp, tsk, you lean back against the wall. today, that's hardly enough time to let you research the man. let alone enough time for kiyoko to give you a breather.

  it takes you a moment, but finally, you gain enough composure to sigh and scratch the back of your neck. "you're so lucky i love you, because if not, i might've killed you just now," you lean forward as your elbows rest on your knees.

  "sorry... i should've told you sooner, i mean i was on the committee. but i'm sure it'll be fine, you'll love him. in the meantime, how about we get started on the ice," kiyoko rests her hand on yours, a smile on her face.

  while a part of you knows you should be upset, but you know you can never truly be angry at her. you intertwine your fingers with hers and give your hand a light squeeze. with a light tilt of your head and an over dramatic sigh, the two of you get out into the ice.

  it's smooth, freshly run over by the zamboni. your skates glide over it as you breathe in the cold air. it circulates your lungs as you make a full circle around the rink. every morning that you go through this is a morning worth remembering. today will just be a little tainted by a certain individual encroaching on your space.

  you take one spin, letting your blade dance atop the ice. when your other leg hits the ground, you feel the adrenaline already pumping through your veins. "you seem to already be having fun," kiyoko skates over to you, her signature smile on her face. 

  "cold air helps me get over my grievances easier," you shrug, scrunching up your nose as she rolls her eyes.

  "good thing you'll be skating with suna then. plenty of cold air as you teach him how to do a twist-"

  "a twist? yeah i'd rather be forced to do quadruple axel than have some hockey player throwing me through the air like i'm a doll. especially when they're not known for their elegancy," a sigh slips past your lips, your eyes wide open in surprise. 

  kiyoko shakes her head, looking past you for a second. you turn around, wondering what she's looking at. your eyes narrow as you see a few guys stroll into the skating rink. you look back at her and then back at them, "why are there three?"

  "michimiya is late... she'll be here soon though. she's paired with daichi," kiyoko crosses her arms, skating around you, moving around.

  you shrug your shoulders, rolling your eyes, "so everyone gets someone they know but me? they were best friends in high school. and i get some guy from who knows where and is probably annoying and will end up sending me to the floor."

  "give him more credit than that, y/n. please, give him a chance, i promise he'll be okay. if not, then you can kill me," kiyoko brings her hand up to your shoulder and attempts to console you. 

  "fine, let's go meet him," you lean your head back, skating over towards the nearby benches.

  they're completely empty due to the rink being closed for your practices. meanwhile, the three men make their way over, walking in a distinct line. tanaka stands in the front of the line and leads the two others towards where he'll get his skates on. 

  behind him is daichi, and in the very back seems to be the man named suna. his dark hair sticks out of a beanie, a large bag thrown around his shoulder. there's a certain lack of enthusiasm on his face (probably one that matches a soft frown lining your lips). there are wired headphones hooked up to what looks like an mp3 player. 

  you look back at kiyoko for a moment and sigh, rolling your eyes before finishing your skating to the side the rink. kiyoko immediately greets tanaka who reaches over the side to give him a hug. he is quick to give you a hello as well, a smile still wide on his face.

  however, your eyes stay trained on your soon to be partner. he immediately pulls out his hockey skates and starts lacing them up. you wait for a moment before finally saying something, "uh, suna? i'm your partner for the event, l/n."

  he doesn't look up, his eyes trained on his laces and his ears still filled with some music. you speak a little louder, repeating his name again to somehow gain his attention. once again, it goes unnoticed by the seemingly preoccupied hockey player. 

  you look over at kiyoko who is shrugging her shoulders, pursing her lips. with your eyes practically shooting daggers at her, you knock on the railing of the tink, "suna!"

  "what?!" he finally looks up, his eyes wide in surprise at your loud attempt to catch his attention. 

  "i'm your partner for the event, l/n. how about you take out those headphones before you meet me on the ice?" you turn around, skating off before he has an attempt to say anything, mouthing 'asshat' to yourself.

#suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #suna rintarou #suna rintaro fic

[jennay]

Noah

An: My first Noah fic I hope you like it. Let me know what you think 💜 I always get nervous writing new people for whatever reason!

Noah Sebastian x reader

No warnings just fluff

Words: 2kish

Noah Master List

How did this happen?

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah.

He was just a friend, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought.

You met Noah at a friend's birthday party five years ago. He was charming and handsome, but you didn't feel any sparks. He had a warm smile and a friendly handshake, but nothing that made your heart skip a beat. Like you, he was into music and photography, but so were many others. You exchanged numbers and stayed in touch as friends, but nothing more.

That changed when he asked you to look after his apartment and pets while he was on tour. You agreed to help him, thinking living in his place in a different city and state would be fun.

You didn't know that it would also bring you closer to him.

His apartment was cozy and colorful, with posters, books, and instruments. It smelled like coffee and vanilla, his favorite scents.

It felt like home, even though it wasn't yours. You loved spending time there, playing with his dog, and you read some of the books that stayed on his shelf. They looked like they needed some love, and you couldn't stand seeing the books covered in dust, alone and uncared for.

Noah would call you almost every night to check on his pup, leading to more extended conversations. He would tell you about his adventures on the road, the places he visited, and the people he met. He would ask about your day, work, and hobbies. He'd make you laugh with his jokes and stories.

"You're so fuckin cool, you know that?" He said one night.

You felt your cheeks flush. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're doing me a huge favor, and I don't know how to thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me."

You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "Well, I owe you dinner or drinks, something like that, when I’m back in town."

You felt your heart race. "I could never say no to free drinks and dinner."

You realized that you had more in common than you thought. You shared the same sense of humor, values, and dreams. You also discovered new sides of him that you never knew before. He was passionate and creative but also humble and kind. He was generous and thoughtful but playful and adventurous.

He became everything you wanted in a partner.

But he was your friend.

He often told you how much he appreciated and trusted your friendship. He had also told you how hard it was for him to trust women after all the pain he had gone through. He had been betrayed and hurt by his ex-girlfriends, who had spread lies and rumors about him. They had tried to use him for fame and money, not caring about his feelings.

You were different from them. You were a journalist, but you never wrote anything wrong about him. You never exploited his secrets or his scandals. You never tried to get a scoop or a headline out of him. You respected his privacy and his dignity. You cared about him as a person, not as a celebrity.

You wanted to be the one who could heal his wounds, make him happy, and love him like no one else.

You wanted to be the one who could make him see that not all women were the same.

You wanted to be the one who could make him fall in love again.

You sure as hell didn't know if he saw you as more than a friend.

You were going to see him today at a hidden bar that only a few knew about. It was a place where he could be himself, away from the public's prying eyes. Noah loved his music and fans, but he was a private person. He needed his privacy, and you respected that.

You knew he would probably bring one of his bandmates with him. They were his support system, and though you sometimes wished he would come alone, you understood. That's why you often invited Allie along. She was your best friend and had a crush on Nicholas. Nicholas was smitten with her, too, and he would chase her around like a lovesick puppy, leaving you and Noah some time to yourselves.

You didn't go all out with your appearance, just a touch of makeup and a casual outfit. It wasn't your style, and you knew Allie would tease you if you showed up too fancy.

She'd been nagging you to confess your feelings to Noah; she even blurted it out to him once when she was drunk, but you brushed it off with a nervous laugh and told her to drop it.

You enter the bar, feeling the cool air hit your face. You head straight to the counter, order your favorite beer, and leave your debit card with the bartender.

You scan the room, looking for your friends. They stand out from the crowd. You see a tall man and a petite blonde girl, with Nicholas trailing behind them like a loyal dog. Your eyes land on Noah holding his cue stick and aiming at the table. He is smiling at something he said to Nicholas, but you can't make out his words over the loud music.

You grab your drink and walk towards them. Allie spots you first and runs towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

She slurs some words in your ear. "Finally!" She yells, her breath reeking of alcohol. "These two are no fun. They're too good at pool, and I can't beat them. So now they are playing each other, and I'm just watching." She giggles.

You escape from her hug and follow her to the table, putting down your drink and taking off your sweater. "Well, it's not a fair game when Noah's arms are longer than the fucking table." You joke.

"I heard that!" Noah shouts from across the table, waving his pool stick at you.

You shrug your shoulders, "It's the truth!"

"Who wants to play next?" Nicholas asks as he walks over to you and Allie. "Allie owes me a shot, and I'm done with him." He laughs, pointing at Noah.

"Are you giving up?" Noah asks as he joins the three of you. "I don't blame you. You suck and everything." He teases.

You smile up at him and open your arms to hug him. "I love being ignored." You say sarcastically, making Allie snort.

He hugs you tightly and rocks you back and forth slowly, "Sorry, my precious little angel," He mocks, "I was busy kicking ass."

Nicholas hands you his cue stick and grabs Allie by the arm, dragging her to the bar. "Good luck!" He yells back at you.

"Ok, Noah." You laugh, trying to escape his grip, "You can let go now."

He looks at you with a fake hurt expression, "But I thought we were having a moment."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, a moment of suffocation."

He grins and releases you, "Fine, fine. Let's play then. Loser buys the next round."

You nod, "Deal. But don't cry when I beat you." He winks, "We'll see about that."

You and Noah start playing pool, taking turns to hit the balls. You're both good at the game but like to distract each other with jokes and taunts. You laugh and tease each other, enjoying the friendly competition.

You notice he's getting closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to show you how to aim better, brushing his hand against your arm when he passes the cue stick, whispering in your ear when he makes a shot. You feel a surge of heat in your body, wondering if he is flirting with you or just being playful.

You decide to play along, hoping he will make a move. You touch his chest when you congratulate him on a good shot, look into his eyes when you talk to him, and bite your lip when you miss a shot.

You see him react to your signals, his eyes darkening, his breath quickening, his smile widening.

You’re both down to the last ball, the black eight. It's his turn, and he has a clear shot. He looks at you and says, "If I make this, I win. And if I win, I get to ask you something."

You raise your eyebrows, curious and nervous. "I have to buy you a drink, and you get to ask me something?" You ask. "That doesn't seem very fair."

He shakes his head, "It's fair, you'll see." He bends over the table and aims at the ball. He hits it with precision and power, sending it into the corner pocket.

He straightens up and pumps his fist in the air. "Got it!" He exclaims. He turns to you and grabs your hand, pulling you close. "I win!"

You smile and nod, "Yes, you do."

He looks into your eyes and says, "And now I get to ask you something."

You swallow hard, feeling his breath on your face. "What do you want to ask me?"

He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you drunk?" You ask, taken back by his question, "You don't want to kiss me. That's the alcohol talking. Are you drunk?"

He chuckles, "No, I'm not drunk, and I want to kiss you. Am I reading signals wrong? I thought that's what you wanted..." He nervously speaks, his dark brown eyes closely watching you, waiting for a response. Did he overstep your boundaries?

In a whirlwind of nervous energy, you feel your heart race as you stare at him. What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you wanted?

You softly nod your head, "Ok," You whisper.

You feel everything else fade away, and the only thing that matters at that moment is him. As your lips get closer, the air gets thicker with anticipation, your hearts beating as one. The world pauses, waiting for this moment. With a gentle move, he lowers his head, and a wave of bliss washes over you when you feel his lips press to yours. You feel warmth as his hands caress your face, and he deepens the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, not letting him go.

You hope this is real, not some cruel dream playing with your mind.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet again, breathless and smiling like two people who have just found a hidden treasure. You see the love and happiness in his eyes, reflecting your own.

“About damn time!” Nicholas shouts from behind you, breaking the spell. You laugh, feeling a bit shy but also proud of what you have done.

You lean in and give Noah another kiss, softer and sweeter than the first one, just to make sure it's real.

You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah. But you did, and it changed everything.

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult

[arrenkae]

Some final thoughts on the Emperor:

I fucking love the guy. He is SUCH a manipulative asshole. He straight up catfishes you and when you find out about his true nature he just goes ahead and proceeds to be all like

"No dude you can still trust me, I'm just like you. I totally have Normal Human feelings. I never lied to you (except when I did). Go look at my basement with all the sentimental trinkets I keep there. I had a dog, does it make me sympathetic enough? Let's have another Heartfelt Convensation, but I'm shirtless now. Will you trust me more if we bang? Yes good so are you ready to turn into a mindflayer yet"

And boy he is REALLY good at this and sounds very convincing

But if you refuse to fall for is act he gets SO pissed off and changes his tune instantly and straight up shows you that this woman he told you about? How he cared so much for her and he is so totally sad that she's dead and do you feel sad for him as well now

Yeah he totally mind controlled her all this time

(which tbh I picked up on way too early because duke Stelmane having brain damage from being controlled by a mind flayer was a big plot point in one of our d&d games and I knew that it was a canon thing in forgotten realms lore even before bg3 came out)

And he's like WELL AREN'T YOU GLAD THAT I AM NOT MIND CONTROLLING YOU

(and by the way I reloaded my save to try those dialogue options; but in the end I played my character as someone who leaned into trusting him, maybe being just a bit wary but still considering him a necessary ally)

But you see

The best part is

That he is SUCH an asshole and keeps giving off more and more sinister vibes and when he asks you to give him the stones to control the elder brain it 100% feels like "oh yeah. this is it. this is the part where this obviously evil guy betrays you"

And then he just

Doesn't

Idk I fucking love it

Because yeah he is totally manipulating you. To do the same the same thing that you also want to do, which happens to be something that is good and beneficial for the realms

But still all he cares about in the end is self-preservation

This game really does well to show that a mind flayer doesn't have to be "evil" in the usual sense but they are beings that are fundamentally different from us and they feel and see the world differently, even being released from the elder brain's control and having some semblance of their old personality and memories doesn't make them just misunderstood humans with tentacles

I would totally kill him, but unfortunately Lae'zel died in my playthrough (the roll for saving her was SO HIGH and I just. decided against savescumming. it is what it is)

And without her my character didn't care enough about saving the githiyanki prince

Maybe next time. And of course another playtrough with a different character, who would stuff all the tadpoles into their brain and become a half-illithid and romance the guy because this is way too amazing not to try

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #playing bg3 #my screenshots #the emperor #txt

[vivacissimx]

Theon's choice not to visit Alannys was not a choice

Cannot believe it took this long for me to get around to this meta—also, feel free to read my whole spiel about Theon's father figures in Ned, Balon, and Roose here, because it does inform my view.

OK, Alannys Harlaw hours.

The conception of Theon's motivations in the situation where he does not go to see his mother when he returns to the Islands is a bit harsh on Theon. It ignores that Theon has not been avoiding Alannys all these years: he has been kept from her. Theon's access to her has always been controlled by the NedBalons in his life.

I want to get into the idea that this is not happenstance. That Theon's father figures control his access to his mother, which is not even a novel concept in ASOIAF. Jon Snow, who is Theon's foil, also has access to his mother restricted by—woah! Ned Stark as well!! (And both Jon and Theon are expected to be grateful for this too.)

Theon's homecoming to Pyke does not result in him rushing triumphant as the prodigal son into his loving mother's arms because in fact Alannys is not even on Pyke (though Theon thought she would be). Nope, it's Theon's suspicious, resentful, and yes "homophobic" uncle as well as father who Theon meets. From here it is just assumed that Theon has perfect access to Alannys, and that him not hopskipping over to Harlaw is purely his preference. (Are you catching on to the idea that I disagree with this, yet?)

Getting into Theon as a character & how he acts under suspicious/mistrustful eyes:

As a boy, he had lived in fear of Stark's stern face and great dark sword. His wife was, if anything, even more distant and suspicious. [ACOK, Theon I]

-

“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she told them. “I want your oaths on that. If even part of what I suspect is true, Ned and my girls have ridden into deadly danger, and a word in the wrong ears could mean their lives.” “Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” said Theon Greyjoy. “I do so swear.” [AGOT, Catelyn III]

-

Ned turned back to his wife. “Once you are home, send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover under my seal. They are to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify Moat Cailin. Two hundred determined archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly that he is to strengthen and repair all his defenses at WhiteHarbor, and see that they are well manned. And from this day on, I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father’s fleet.” [AGOT, Eddard IV]

Theon knows he is not trusted in Winterfell. Catelyn including Theon in this circle of ooh secrets is mostly due to the fact that Robb physically brought him & also because she knows that Theon does not really even have the ability to betray her on this front. He definitely knows that. Ned does not have a paternal relationship with Theon & does not perceive himself as Theon's father any more than Theon believes he is Ned's son (in the manner that Robb or Bran or even Jon is), so why does Theon lie here?

HE IS OVERPERFORMING HIS COMMITMENT TO THE PATRIARCH FIGURE IN WHOSE HANDS HIS LIFE/FUTURE LIES.

Theon predicates his vow to Catelyn with an affirmation of his willingness to do service to Ned, and in fact that's what his access to her relies on. That's probably why he makes such a production of incessantly flirting with her too; because of how it implies he is in Ned and later Robb's good graces! Of course AGOT Theon is also just a flirt for the purposes of producing his masculinity in general. But does anyone really disagree? Moving on.

The door was grey wood studded with iron, and Theon found it barred from the inside. He hammered on it with a fist, and cursed when a splinter snagged the fabric of his glove. The wood was damp and moldy, the iron studs rusted. After a moment the door was opened from within by a guard in a black iron breastplate and pothelm. "You are the son?" "Out of my way, or you'll learn who I am." [ACOK, Theon I]

(Even the damn door is in on it LOL)

Theon knelt. He had a purpose here, and might need Aeron's help to achieve it. A crown was worth a little mud and horseshit on his breeches, he supposed.

-

He was playing the part of a dutiful young prince for the moment, while he waited for Lord Balon to reveal the fullness of his plans. [ACOK, Theon II]

-

"My father gave me the command here, Uncle." "And sent me to counsel you." And to watch me. Theon dare not push matters too far with his uncle. The command was his, yes, but his men had a faith in the Drowned God that they did not have in him, and they were terrified of Aeron Damphair. [ACOK, Theon III]

THEON IS PERFORMING FOR BALON. His father doesn't approve of him and Theon is playing the part. He is making every overture and concession to obedience, or piety, that is asked of him. Balon, Aeron, Asha, even Victarion make sure he knows when he's failing—whether it's with an express disapproval or just a knowing laugh. Theon notes all of this because due to how he was raised he's extremely perceptive of how those with power over him regard him.

And Balon does not criticize Theon for not visiting Alannys.

"Will I find my sister and my lady mother at Pyke?" "You will not. [ACOK, Theon I]

-

Harlaw is only a day’s sail, and surely Lady Greyjoy yearns for a last sight of her son.” “Would that I could. I am kept too busy here. My father relies on me, now that I am returned. Come peace, perhaps...” [ACOK, Theon II]

Theon visiting his mother is not reliant on his own self-motivation, but on whether or not Balon grants him access to her. This is not to say Balon expressly forbade it or that there would have been any direct consequences if Theon had gone over... but it's about goodwill, not permission! What else changes between Theon asking about Alannys when he returns to Pyke and when he explicitly tells Asha that he can't go see her because Balon, because war? Simple: he needs to prove himself to his father as loyal and strong first. To make it explicit, Ned & Robb allowed Theon access to Catelyn in the same manner that Balon refuses (or, at the least, disapproves of) Theon's access to Alannys. Theon is sensitive to this disapproval and does not push the matter.

The only person who pushes Theon to go to Alannys is Asha. Asha obviously has Balon's trust, though, and it could be said she takes it for granted. Asha's level of understanding of Theon is complex; she recognizes him but she doesn't know him. When she says this:

You are blood of my blood, Theon, whatever else you may be. For the sake of the mother who bore us both, return to Deepwood Motte with me. [ACOK, Theon V]

it's actually wild how much is packed in here. For the sake of the mother who bore us both: Theon doesn't yet have the right to Alannys or even know how she'd receive him, given his other receptions on Pyke. Return to Deepwood Motte: the castle Theon believes he should have been tasked with taking above Asha, a concrete proof of his father's mistrust in him, which amongst other reasons spurs on his taking on Winterfell to begin with.

Personally I think Theon as a symbol of Balon's failed rebellion does make him, in Balon's eyes, also a symbol of his failed marriage. Theon does not confirm Baelon's masculinity as a son should, as Asha does. He is a reminder of the ways in which Balon lacks.

I also believe that Theon ~misses his mother, FWIW. He thinks back to his childhood sleeping in the Sea Tower while on his way to Pyke which is a mommy-coded memory; he expects to sleep in his old chambers again when he returns to Pyke—both that and his expectation of seeing Alannys are swiftly disabused. He will not be slipping into his old roles, Theon learns through the reunion with Balon which is violent in more ways than one. It's interesting because Theon actually expects to have to prove himself to his father (which is why he comes armed with a plan for taking Casterly Rock) but he doesn't expect to be punished for having been held hostage all these years.

If we are indulging in symbolism, though:

Above the Sea Tower snapped his father's banner. The Myraham was too far off for Theon to see more than the cloth itself, but he knew the device it bore: the golden kraken of House Greyjoy, arms writhing and reaching against a black field. The banner streamed from an iron mast, shivering and twisting as the wind gusted, like a bird struggling to take flight. And here at least the direwolf of Stark did not fly above, casting its shadow down upon the Greyjoy kraken. [ACOK, Theon I]

The Sea Tower where Theon's childhood memories & hopes for return to his family lie is dominated by his father's banner. At least it's Balon Greyjoy and not Ned Stark, Theon tells himself. Yet the result is the paralleled, mirrored, as Balon and Ned often are with Theon: under Ned's control Theon can't see Alannys because he is Balon Greyjoy's son, while under Balon's control Theon is discouraged from seeing Alannys because he isn't son enough. Perhaps Theon does prioritize the goodwill of his patriarch because he views it as an essential ingredient to his survival and success... but he's also absolutely aware of the role the wife/mother/lady/queen plays in the whole arena too. As power, as leverage. It's pretty plain when you consider that he tells Barbrey she could claim leadership over the North if she so desired. He took such pleasure in being relatively intimate with Catelyn as well.

So, he knows. Yet they're still all held above his head like a little treat. Delicious.

#theon greyjoy #alannys harlaw #ned stark #balon greyjoy #asha greyjoy #aeron greyjoy #text #meta #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #gender in asoiaf

[flawdchaos]

London Love

Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal x Reader

Part 3 to Spilled Drinks

Word Count - 1293

The first afternoon in London couldn’t have gone any better for the pair than it had. Rosie made good on his promise of a picnic, choosing a patch of grass overlooking the river as the sun sat slowly behind the skyline. Y/N was truly enamored by the sights around her and, more importantly, by the blue eyed man who had included her on such a getaway. The two of them were almost completely encompassed in the darkness the night was bringing, a cool breeze bringing chill bumps to Y/N’s arm, when Rosie stood up from the now worn patch of grass. Looking down, he extended his hand waiting for hers to find its way into his. As he helped her to her feet she busied herself with brushing the leftover food crumbs and grass clippings from her dress, never noticing Rosie’s swift movements in removing his dress jacket.

“Here.” he spoke, breaking the silence, draping the jacket over her shoulders. It completely swallowed her smaller frame but nevertheless, she tugged it around her body. “Don’t think I didn’t see you shiver.” His heart felt as though it could beat out his chest as he took in the sight. His ‘girl’ in his jacket.

“Well, how do I look?” Y/N giggled, twirling around causing the unoccupied sleeves to flop awkwardly. He breathed out a laugh. “Like you’re ready to get in the cockpit and fly our boys to victory.” She couldn’t help but shake her head at such a thought, watching as he took a step towards her and looked down at the front pocket of his jacket, wrapped tightly around her. “Wait, you got something right there. What is that?” he squinted his eyes, leaning down to her height. “Hmm, it’s some sort of stain. Red, like a cosmopolitan.” Her head snapped down quickly, nose almost colliding with the back of his head. “No way! I can’t belie-” her words cut off by Rosie’s belly laugh as he waved his hand around. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” he spoke, still laughing.

Y/N huffed, pushing him slightly as she tried to hide the obvious smile that was creeping onto her face. “You are outrageous, Robert Rosenthal. I am never going to escape that, am I?” he took a breath in “As long as I’m around, probably not.”

“Well, you better be around for a long time.” She said, voice firm but with an obvious shift in tone. They both knew the reality of the situation at hand. War was unforgiving. It took no mercy in the paths it destroyed. Before coming to England, Y/N had told her friends back home that love was absolutely off the table for her until the war had come to a close. She had seen girlfriends and wives fall apart at the news their lover wasn’t coming back to them and she didn’t know if she had it within her to experience that firsthand. There was a reason she stayed far away from the bars and parties the men hosted at Thorpe Abbotts before the night she met Rosie.

But now, standing her in the moonlit glow of London wrapped in Rosie’s ‘too big for her’ jacket, her heart, or maybe her brain, had betrayed the promise she had formerly made. She stepped forward clearing her throat. “You have to make it through this war so you can show me New York. You promised me.” His breath hitched in his throat as he mindlessly stepped closer. He was fighting every nerve in his body to not grab her and hold her in his arms, to drink in the smell of her perfume and hairspray, to run his calloused fingers along the cotton fabric of her dress. “I will, Y/N. My reasons to make it back out of that plane are only growing every day. I don’t know if I could li-” Now it was her turn to cut him off.

“Robert, kiss me.”

Without hesitation, Rosie’s hands encompassed her face and his lips crashed into hers. Y/N’s hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt to hold herself steady as her balance faltered beneath her. He pulled away, hands still cradling her face and Y/N was sure that if their combined deep breathing slowed enough, he could hear the racing of her heart.

“I will make it back to you, Y/N Y/L/N. Even if I have to crawl.”

______

Y/N clung to Rosie’s arm as they strolled down the streets, slowly canvassing their way back to the hotel. Neither of the pair wanted the night to come to an end but as it appeared in their vision up ahead they knew it would be happening all too soon. Y/N dropped Rosie’s arm, shrugging the jacket off of her shoulders. “I think you’ll be needing this back.” Despite everything that had just happened, they still had to be professional in the presence of others. She couldn’t help but stare as he buttoned the jacket back on and replaced his hat on his head. “How do I look ma’am?” he teased.

“Handsome.” she giggled, cheeks turning pink. God, she felt like a child again.

“Why don’t you come here and give this handsome guy one more kiss then?” Rosie quipped to which she happily obliged, pushing up on her tiptoes to reach his lips. His arms slid around her waist pulling her tighter than she thought imaginable, forcing her arms over his shoulders.

Breaking away he looked down at her, hand resting on her cheek. “Don’t hesitate to come to my room if anything happens tonight. We are still in a warzone.” She pressed her cheek into his hand, slightly turning her head to kiss the portion of his palm she could reach. “Yes, sir.” he smirked. “Go on, I’ll watch and make sure you get in safe.” brushing his uniform down and fixing his tie. “I’ll be right behind ya.”

______

The blare of the air raid siren startled her from her sleep sending her into a panic. She had heard it plenty of times before but now, sitting alone in a hotel in a heavily bombed London, her heart was in her throat. She pawed around the table to find the base of the lamp and clicked the light on, now scrounging for her shoes on the floor when knocking pulled her attention to the door.

“Y/N?” she rushed over pulling the door open to find a similarly disheveled Rosie, his usual curly hair sticking up and sleepy eyes. She stepped aside letting him in the room. “I never thought I would experience something like this in the city.” she murmured, wrapping her arms around her body.

“Me either. It feels so much different out here.” she nodded, walking to peer out the window as the flashes of light filled the room. “What time is it?” she said, turning to face him. Peering down at his watch he mumbled “0312” as a yawn took over his words. She pulled the seat by the bed closer to the window and beckoned him over. “We aren’t going to get any more sleep tonight.” he hung his head, defeatedly. He knew she was right and any excuse to be in her presence alone would be gladly welcomed. He plopped down in the seat, his head lulling to the side.

“C’mere.” Sleep still evident in his voice as he patted his thigh. She floated over, lowering herself into his touch as his hand absentmindedly began rubbing up and down her back.

“Who knows when we’ll ever have this privacy again.” he sighed as she met him with a nod. “For tonight, I just want to hold you.”

Writers note - Hi friends! We’ve somehow made it to part 3 of a fic I was convinced no one would read. thank you for proving me wrong ♥️ I hope you enjoy! I’m probably going to be working on some more requests this weekend. Send anything into my submissions box. It doesn’t just have to be for Rosie. Right now, I’ll write for Buck, Bucky, Rosie, Crosby and I might even dabble in writing for their actors, Austin, Callum, Nate & Anthony.

#masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #anthony boyle #anthony boyle imagine #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air imagines #robert rosenthal #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal imagines

[letters-from-dekarios]

fighting fate

summary: you had some choice words for your friend who set you up on a not-so-blind date. but, because it went well, you decide to meet with him again. it’s not long before the spark reignites like when you first met, and you can’t help but fall for him.

or: you go on a second date with gale

word count: 5.5k

tags: *this is a sequel to ‘a blind date with a wizard’, you do not have to read it before this one :)* gale x implied f!reader/afab!reader, astarion and shart are terrible wingmen, elf!reader, fluff, some small angst, mildly medium burn, alcohol usage, wyll is also there and also your ex, omg karlach is also there

author’s note: this is my little disclaimer that i personally love wyll! i’m just using him as a plot point since there’s not many other main chara options that haven’t been mentioned already (that i would use in his place). its for the plot guys i swear i’m a wyll lover too

Okay, maybe you couldn’t be mad at Astarion and Shadowheart. Yes, they betrayed your trust by setting you up on a faux blind date with their wizard friend who already knew your entire life story. And yes, they did not take accountability for their lies and instead kept asking if you enjoyed yourself. But, their little plan worked, and you were scheduling a second date with the man they set you up with.

“I am still pissed at you both. Especially you, Astarion,” You glared at your friend as he flipped through outfits in your closet. Shadowheart was busy doing your makeup, turning your face back towards her.

“Look, you can’t stay angry forever. You needed someone to get your mind off of Wyll. I just did what I do best,” he replied, holding up one rather… skimpy outfit that you turned your nose up at.

“Lying? You could’ve at least told me a little about him so I didn’t feel so mortified! You told him all about Wyll and when I tried to vaguely mention that I had a bad breakup, he already knew all about it!” You huffed, and Shadowheart grabbed your chin to steady your face. She gave you a cautionary look as she got underway applying your eyeliner, her hand steady and precise. She had cast duplicity to do both sides at the same time, which made the process much easier.

“Sweetheart, if you knew half the things about him you’d refuse to meet with him. I kept you in the dark so you can see for yourself who he is,” Astarion held up another outfit, one a bit more casual but still would be pretty on you. You nodded in approval and Shadowheart nearly had an aneurysm.

“If you don’t stop moving your damn head I’m going to let you leave here looking like a sibriex,” Shadowheart warned you again, and you took heed of her notice this time.

With your makeup done and your outfit fresh, all you had to do was wait for Gale to arrive. The two of you had been back and forth for weeks now, mostly updating each other on current things you were up to. A few days prior, with your schedules finally open, he had sent word of when he’d like to take you out and you responded as soon as you could. Now, you waited for the date to commence.

“You can at least thank us for our assistance in getting you out of the house. Had I not convinced you to go on that blind date, you’d still be crying over Ravengard’s oldest disappointment,” Astarion remarked, and you snorted at the insult of a name.

You sighed after, messing with the ends of your hair. “You can’t blame me for being annoyed. You wouldn’t like it if I set you up with someone and told them you were a vampire before you could,” you raised an eyebrow at him knowingly. He couldn’t deny that you were correct on that front, but he wasn’t about to say that to you.

“Just be grateful he didn’t tell Gale about your little misadventures as a—“ Shadowheart began, and you quickly clamped your hand over her mouth, shushing her.

“Don’t mention that! It’ll bring bad luck to my date tonight,” you frowned, and both of your companions busted out in laughter.

You continued chatting until a soft knock sounded on the door, and you screamed internally. After getting up from the couch, you made your way to the door. You took a breath, eased your mind, and then opened it up for him.

“Hey,” you beamed at him, trying to contain your excitement. He bowed in acknowledgement and pulled out a small bouquet from behind his back.

“Good evening, my lady,” he smiled at you, extending the flowers in greeting.

You felt your face become hot while a small giggle left you. You took them from him and briefly smelled the assortment. “They’re lovely, thank you,” you replied, inviting him inside for a beat so you could set the flowers down.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite wizard of Waterdeep!” Astarion swung his legs over his chair, standing and heading towards him. He slumped his arm over Gale’s shoulders, patting his back. “Isn’t he just amazing, Y/N? Such a gentleman— is that bluestars I smell?” Astarion whacked him on the back once more, stepping around to you as he observed the flowers. Bluestars was a rather expensive perfume in Faerùn, costing over two hundred gold pieces for just a small bottle. You had never smelled it before, but you were sure you would later.

“Leave him be, Astarion,” you gave him a look, voice low to avoid Gale hearing you.

“Ah, I pay no mind to Astarion anyway,” Gale watched you as you placed the flowers neatly in a vase and filled it with water. “If I did, I sincerely doubt I’d be here at the moment,” he chuckled, and you beamed at the reply.

“You’re such a pain, Gale. You know that?” Astarion whined, before slipping back over to the couch.

“I’m sure he’s plenty aware,” Shadowheart called over her shoulder, focused on a book she had brought out.

“Thank you, Shadowheart, for your helpful insight on the matter,” Gale retorted, raising a hand to you once you were done with the bouquet. “Shall we?”

You took his hand, your face flushing again as he led you out the door. “We shall,” you answered, smiling sweetly at him.

“Bring her home before one!” Astarion called out as you both left.

“Oh, that may be difficult!” Gale retorted, allowing you to close the door behind you both as you departed.

“What, you plan on stealing me away for the whole evening?” You raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously, laughing as you interlocked your arms and he began to walk with you.

“Perhaps.. if you’d let me,” he nudged you gently, before leading you off to a small restaurant in the heart of the city.

“Hmm… it’ll depend on how this night goes,” you flirted, patting his arm tenderly. Soon enough, you were being seated inside the little restaurant, and looking over the menu. Everything looked… expensive. You didn't want to hurt the man’s coin pouch, assuming he was paying for it, but there weren't exactly any reasonable options, either.

“What are you getting?” You questioned, and he pointed to some mildly pricey menu item. That was your hint at expenses, and you picked a dish that sounded promising but wasn’t going to put you in debt if you ended up paying for yourself.

The date was filled with idle conversation, the two of you discussing parts of your home life here and there, commenting happily on the food you ate, and just sharing the good parts of yourselves. It was going great, extraordinary even.

Until he showed up.

Wyll Ravengard. You didn't even feel the eyes burning into the back of your head until you heard someone pleading with him to stop, attempting to keep him back. You flicked your attention over to the commotion, eyes going wide as you saw him. You wished you hadn’t made eye contact, that you’d minded your business, but you hadn’t. And now you had to deal with it.

You wanted to shrink down into yourself. Disappear into nothing- hide under the table like a small child. With the way things ended, how could you face him? He was a gentleman for your whole relationship— until he wasn’t. You couldn’t stand to see the face that spoke to you in such a way that night. No matter what influence he was under, what he did that night you broke up… you couldn’t forgive him.

You recalled the many nights after that fight, how depressed you had become. He tried several times to get your attention and apologize to you, but you were so wrapped up in yourself that it was hard to pay attention to anything. Some nights he was kindly about it, others he was swearing like a damned sailor who couldn't take no for an answer. You weren't sure who he had become, and no matter how hard he tried he was unable to reverse the past.

“Y/N!” He shouted your name, and you put your head in your hands. Maybe if you didn't see him, he would disappear.

“Wyll, please, not here-“ his friend Karlach, you recognized her as, tried to hold him back. But with his thrashing and flailing, he managed to worm his way free of her grasp.

“Impero te!” Gale moved to his feet quickly, and Wyll froze in place. You recognized the words as a command spell. It appeared Gale chose that over a holding spell, perhaps so he could speak with Wyll first. You knew it would wear off soon, so you placed your coin on the table and got up.

“Don’t you dare leave, Y/N!” Wyll exclaimed, and Gale turned to check up on you.

“I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling faintly as you grabbed your things. “I’m just going to go outside for a minute.”

He nodded and waited for you to leave before his attention was on Wyll again.

You weren’t sure what happened after that, but only a little while later and both men were being tossed out by two guards you’d seen in the restaurant earlier. Gale’s face was down, his hand held up to his nose, and in the candle-lit street, you could faintly make out blood on his knuckles.

“You bastard!” Wyll ran to, presumably, take another swing, but Karlach grabbed him in time before he could.

“Gale-“ you rushed to his side, now that Karlach had a tight hold on Wyll, and checked him for any other injuries.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” he soothed, despite the blood dripping down his face. You reached into the small bag you had brought and took out a cloth, gently wiping at his face.

“Does this jackass speak for you now, Y/N?” You heard Wyll snarl, followed by Karlach’s aggressive warnings for him to calm down.

“Mates, I’m really sorry for his behavior. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Can I pay you back for the dinner?” Karlach surrendered, nodding down to a small coin pouch at her hip.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to pay for his stupidity,” you answered, moving Gale to sit down on a nearby bench. “Tilt your head back..” you instructed, a delicate motherly tone to your voice, and he did so, holding the cloth tight against his nose.

As you spun to face Wyll, you saw he was bloodied just the same. You had to hand it to Gale, he was more than just a gentleman. You sighed, composed yourself, and put on your bravest ‘what the fuck are you doing’ face.

“What do you want, Wyll?” You coldly asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You know what I want,” he huffed, still struggling in Karlach’s grasp.

“Actually, as a matter of fact, I don’t! It might surprise you, but I haven’t known what you wanted from me since the night we broke up. What could you possibly need from me after everything that transpired?” Your eyebrows furrowed together, irate with him. Thinking about that night hurt your mind and your heart, you’d much rather continue with your date like nothing happened. But, of course, the universe was always against you.

“Y/N-“ Wyll calmed slightly, his likely drunken stupor fading as he regained his senses seeing you like this. For a moment, he looked like how you remembered him. For a moment, he was yours again.

That quickly dissipated as he continued to speak, reaching towards you, begging, “I want you- I miss you. I should’ve never let this go, I should’ve never let that bastard get his hands on you. You’re mine, right? Like we used to say?”

You took a step back at his words, feeling sick to your stomach. After all this time, he still had that false hope he could get you back? That you still belonged to him? And what was worse, he called Gale a bastard. Again.

“I’ll have you know that bastard back there, is twice the man you ever were. I suggest you rethink your ownership because, to my knowledge, I belong to myself. I was finally- finally!- feeling free from your grasp and here you go, trying to steal my peace from me.” you clasped your hands together, groaning out in frustration before running a hand down your face. “I was done with you a long time ago, Wyll. Please, for the love of all of Faerún, let. Me. Go. Drop this faux apology and the pathetic act and move on with your life. That was embarrassing!” You sighed, running a hand down your face. The arguing in public was only adding to your humiliation, though many passersby just assumed you all were drunk.

“Y/N-“

“No, Wyll!” You cut him off, waving a hand dramatically to silence him. “I was so happy to be finally moving on from you and rebuilding myself after you left me in pieces and you had to come here and ruin it! You had to smash me to bits all over again! I just want to be happy, and you can’t even let me have that?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but you pushed them down like all your other worries. “Please, go home. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you anymore, I want to go home. Without you.” It seemed that those final words got to him, and he realized his defeat.

As much as you had loved him in the past, he was no longer who you loved now. It was beyond you to change him to become the man he used to be, and you cried for the day he would find the love he would become that for. You wished he could do that for you but you knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t even worth it anymore. Besides, you had to get Gale home and cleaned up anyway. What good would worrying about Wyll do for you?

“You’re sure you don’t want any coin, mate? I feel awful about all of this,” Karlach offered again, and you waved her off.

“Get him home safe, that’s all I ask,” you replied, and they were off. You watched as Wyll’s sad, defeated eyes stayed locked with yours until they were far enough away, and your heart broke all over again.

Gale knew when not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him, so he left that talking up to you. It was not his place to speak to Wyll for you, but his charming act of heroism in punching the shit out of Wyll was plenty for you.

You took another breath, unclenched the fists you had unknowingly created, and returned to Gale’s side.

“How are you doing?” You asked him, kneeling in front of him as he laughed softly.

“As good as a man with a broken nose can be. You don’t happen to have any healing potions on you, do you?” He replied, smiling at you.

“Not here, but I have some at home,” You offered, and he shook his head no to that.

“I’d rather not return to Astarion’s commentary on my little.. quandary here,”

You pondered for a moment, and then a metaphorical lightbulb appeared over your head. “Vis medicatrix,” you chanted, placing your hand on his arm to heal the wound. Blue light emitted from your palms and eyes for a moment and then faded. Why you hadn’t thought of that prior, you had no idea.

“There. How do you feel now?” You repeated, and Gale lowered the cloth from his nose. He breathed in and out a few times, and then nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re quite good at that,” he chuckled, trying to wipe off as much blood from his face as he could. His knuckles were covered in Wyll’s blood, you noted, and you were oddly surprised Gale didn’t have more marks on him from whatever took place inside.

“What even-“

“Perhaps later.”

You pursed your lips in understanding, standing straight as you waited for him. Where would you head off to now? He looked a mess, and you could hardly stand to be around everyone who had just witnessed what occurred. What would people say? They undoubtedly recognized Ravengard’s son, so what would the rumors tell about you? Those were worries for a later time.

“There’s a travel sigil nearby if you’d like to head to my home in Waterdeep with me,” Gale offered, and you interlocked your arms again when he stood up.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, letting him guide you home.

After a bit of walking and some magical travel, you were inside Gale’s rather lavish tower in Waterdedl. The walls were practically lined from floor to ceiling with books, showing his studious nature. The smell of thousand-year-old tomes and scrolls filled your lungs, mixed with the neverending hint of brandy and vanilla. He took good care of his belongings, despite his continued apologies over what he considered a mess. Though, the only clutter you saw was that of a well-studied scholar. It was impressive just how many books he had, and you wondered if he really had read all of them.

“I believe I have a bottle of Ithbank somewhere around here, let me get myself cleaned up first,” Gale offered, and you had half the nerve to speak up.

“Let me help you,” you proposed, and he smiled at you. That cheeky, knowing smile, akin to one Astarion would give you when you’d talk of something scandalous he was already doing. He nodded his head in the direction of his washroom and you followed along behind him, allowing him to sit on a small stool as you wet a rag.

“Well, go on,” you urged, tilting his face up by the chin as you stood between his legs. Gently, you began washing the blood off of his face. “What happened?”

“After you stepped outside, Wyll began saying some rather choice words,” Gale recounted, the night's events playing over in his mind, eyes ever trained on you. “He wouldn’t cooperate with leaving. He took the first swing, I assure you. It’s not like me to throw first, or even second. I usually counteract with magic but, albeit adrenaline was forefront in my mind, a more physical response felt qualified.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head as you took his hands and cleaned them off, too. “I’m not a damsel in distress, you know. I just didn’t want to deal with him.” You informed him, wanting to make perfectly clear your reason for aversion.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. But I like to play the white knight now and then, if you’d indulge me,” he grinned, turning his hand in yours and taking it gently. He kissed the top of your palm in thanks for your help.

You giggled at him, splashing his face gently with water, to which he gasped, reached over towards the sink, and splashed you back. You both burst into laughter as you started a miniature water fight, flicking water droplets at one another. You, though, wouldn’t give up this nonsensical fight so easily, and splashed a small cup in his face. His expression turned sour and you darted out of the washroom, Gale quick on your tail, and began dashing around bookshelves to avoid him. The initial droplets soon became minor castings of ‘create water’, both of you careful not to damage the papers surrounding you.

“This honestly seems unfair!” He called over to you as you shimmied behind a small space between two bookshelves. Abruptly, he went quiet and you began to peek around some books to see where he was.

He didn’t even say a word as he wrung out his cloth over your head, your hair becoming completely wet.

“Gale!” You screeched, turning around to his shit-eating grin. You whipped out your cloth while grabbing his collar, suddenly pulled his shirt slightly off his body, and wrung out all the remaining water from yours down his chest. Then, you flattened his shirt against his chest, allowing it to become soaked in its own right.

He jumped slightly at the coolness and glared down at you, albeit playfully. He quickly pulled you against him by the waist, effectively getting your clothes damp, too.

“You know, this is one of my favorite shirts. It’s not supposed to get wet like this so the fibers don’t fray,” Gale hummed, staring down at you with a suggestive look in his eye.

“Oh? How ever will I repay you for ruining it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him with faux innocence.

He thought about it for a moment, pondered just a beat too long, and tugged you close against his hips. He leaned down towards you, letting his nose brush against your own.

“A simple apology should suffice,” he smiled softly, looking down into your eyes.

“Well,” you lowered your voice, your eyes flicked from his to his lips, and back up again. “I’m so sorry, Mister Dekarios..” your hands made their way to his chest, and you planted them flat against him. “I should dry this off for you too, shouldn’t I?” You pouted, pulling out the wide, cutesy eyes for him.

He took in a breath, placing one hand on top of yours while the other rested on your lower back. “While I love that offer..” he started, brushing his lips against yours, “Let’s take things slow, yes?” He asked, and your breath hitched. Good gods. You couldn’t believe how goddamn gorgeous he was up close. You wanted nothing more than to spend the whole night with him, whatever that would entail.

“Y/N-“

“Yes.” He didn’t even need to ask, but he started to anyway. Almost instantly, his lips were against your own, the hand on your back gently pulling you closer to him as if there was any distance keeping you apart. Your eyes fluttered closed, indulging yourself entirely the moment.

You replied instantly to him, grabbing at his shirt as you leaned up towards him. One of your hands released the fabric and slid up his shoulder, then into his hair, tugging gently.

He hummed happily in response to the pull, grabbing tighter at your waist. After another beat, he drew back and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Gale…” Your eyes slowly opened again, ever so slightly still shut, looking up at him with an unknown kind of intensity and love.

“I know…” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips again, before he trailed down your neck with them, his hands solid against your back and keeping you steady.

You let out a soft, satisfied little groan, running your hands through his hair. He pulled back again after another brief indulgement of his thoughts and looked down at you. He was so perfect, you almost felt bad for making him deal with you and all your imperfections.

“Can I stay the night with you?” You asked, and then panicked as you realized he might get the wrong idea. “Not- like- we don’t have to do anything! I just… want to be here… with you…” your voice went quieter by the minute, and he chuckled at your shyness in asking.

Tilting your head up by the chin, he calmed your nerves. “Of course, you can,” he leaned down to you, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

He slowly pulled away from you, his hands ghosting on your waist before he stepped back, coaching you to follow him with his all-knowing smirk, bringing you to his kitchen. As you followed, he pulled out the aforementioned bottle of Ithbank and two glasses. You hopped up onto one of the counters, watching him pour into each.

“So, I have to know,” he began, handing you the wine, “if you’d be willing to share,” he took a sip from his glass, stepping between your legs this time, “what exactly happened with Wyll? Because that kind of a reaction from someone doesn’t suggest that the breakup was just messy, it suggests that it was, well, horrid to say the least.”

You took the wine glass from him, wrapped your legs around his waist, and sighed loudly. “I’d like to know about you and your ex first,” you replied, taking a sip slowly, “I don’t know much about you and right now the scales are quite imbalanced,” you finished, setting your glass down beside you. You leaned forward, draping your arms over his shoulders, and began to mess with his hair.

“Ah, Mystra…” he chuckled, though it wasn’t as enthusiastic as it usually was. He pursed his lips together, frowned slightly, and then began to speak.

“As you may know, Mystra is the Goddess of Magic, the Mother of the Weave, if you will. And I, myself, am a rather proclaimed wizard,” he started, bringing your arms down from his shoulders as he stepped back. He began to manipulate the weave around you both, a soft purple light shimmering and sparkling between and around you. “From a young age, I was using the Weave. I had much of it mastered by the time I was just ten years old. One of Mystra’s former chosen, Elminster, took it upon himself to train me in her absence, as she was not alive at that point.”

You saw the face of a man, conjured by Gale, who you could only assume was the Elminster he spoke of.

“When Mystra came back, she had lost a part of herself in her former death. Thus, she was weak. But, she could still sense my fascination and usage of the Weave. Soon enough, she began appearing to me. Only briefly, mind you, she was still far too injured to show herself entirely, but she still did.” This time, you saw the face of a rather beautiful woman, whom he alluded to as Mystra. How had he given up a Goddess? Well, you’d find out.

“At that time, she picked me to become one of her Chosen. Recognizing my skill for harnessing the Weave, and understanding my desire and devotion to her, it was an obvious choice. She started mentoring me, showing me parts of the Weave I had not yet discovered,” he continued, using visualizations of the encounters to help guide the storyline. “Eventually, we became friends. And then, even closer than that. Lovers. I desired to become great for her- intertwine our souls together, prove just how much I loved her. Remind you, she was dead for a long time,” he paused, making sure you were following him.

“When she came back, she had to regain the parts of the Weave that she had lost. I, knowing this, happened across a tome that told of a portion of the Weave that Mystra had not yet been reacquainted with. Lost to time, the elements, and Mystra’s long respite, this part of the Weave had gone uncollected by her and was still separate. It was imbued with Netherese magic from the folly of one of her chosen from many centuries prior, that in of itself is a story for another time. I sought to retrieve it and return it to her as an act of love- or, perhaps, egotism. I shall never know the true intent of my heart in those days, but, rest assured, I am no longer the same,” he smiled warily at you, hoping he was not losing you in everything. Both in the storybook tale he was telling, and romantically.

“The act of mine failed, rather horrendously so. What mortal man takes a piece of the weave for himself? A selfish one, indeed. Cursed with this portion, it was bestowed upon me. There are many details that I’m leaving for the sake of not boring you, but in a gist that is what happened. And now, this Netherese magic rests within me, seeking out parts of the weave to regain what it too had previously lost. Without magical artifacts, death very well could be the consequence. So, safe to say, I am no longer on my Goddess’ good side,” he paused, debating on what else to say. “It’s an arcane hunger, that’s what my Tressym, Tara, and I have figured out. I must consume those artifacts regularly to ease the hunger and calm the orb, otherwise I’ll… well, let’s just say it won’t exactly be very pretty.” He laughed slightly again, that sad, disheartened chuckle, and you felt terrible for him.

Mystra had essentially cursed the man she claimed to love, and you found that unfair. Why wouldn’t she just reabsorb the magic? Why put him under duress when all he wanted to do was prove his devotion? You would never say it aloud, but you despised the Gods and their unusual cruelty at times.

“I… don’t know what to say. That’s awful, Gale.” You realized that the details he had provided to you on your initial date were rather vague. Now that he explained it in more depth, your situation with Wyll felt minuscule in comparison. What’s a lover's quarrel in the shadow of a devoted, lovesick chosen being cursed with a gift he intended for his Goddess?

“Do not pity me, Y/N. It’s the consequence of a foolish man seeking more than he could attain. Had I not been blinded by my insatiable need to grow stronger and unlock arcane secrets that were not mine to know, I would not be here. Mystra had told me to be content, and I just couldn’t listen. But had I, I would not be with you. If going back in time meant that I would lose out on what I have now, I would suffer it all over a thousand times more,” he smiled at you, the magic fading as he returned and stood in front of you again.

“You’d suffer through losing your Goddess’ favor for me?” You asked, and he nodded. The look in his eye… was one of complete seriousness. While soft, you could see the determination behind his gaze. He did not intend to fault you like he faulted his Goddess. He wanted to savor this, savor you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared, or honored. What else was he willing to risk for you?

“I’d disown even the angriest of Gods if it resulted in our union being inseparable,” he placed his hand under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I have only known you for a short period of my life, and yet I’d live a thousand more years with you if I could.”

You felt your eyes water, the sentiment touching your heart. You looked towards the ground, before throwing your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, and he pulled you close against him.

“Thank you, for everything,” you told him, burying your face into his chest. He held you just like that for a moment, allowing his head to rest on top of yours. When you finally pulled away, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes, he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you again.

“You’re adorable,” he laughed softly, kissing you again and again. Your giggles broke the kisses and you whacked him gently on the chest to get him to stop.

“Are you alright? I know that was quite a lot to take in,” he asked, and you admired his sensitivity to your headspace.

“I’m alright. I’m still stuck on the fact you eat magical items, though,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Alright, alright. Enough about me. It’s your turn,” he wrapped the conversation back around to you and Wyll, and it pained you for a second to think about it.

And then you looked at him, enjoying his glass of wine with you, and you couldn’t help but feel connected enough to talk about it.

Until you heard the birds chirping happily outside, the two of you labored over the blow-up with Wyll. It was a weight off your shoulders, bantering with him about all the shitty things that happened that night. Like two drunken schoolgirls talking shit about a mutual ex-friend, you both couldn’t help it.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, just that you were comfortable, warm, and safe. Safe within the tight hold of Gale’s arms, under the silk sheets that lined his bed.

You had this inkling feeling that all was right in the world. The universe, for once, was back on your side. Back on his side. It was like mending a pot with the age-old art of kintsugi- melding two broken pieces together with gold-dusted glue. Was it perfect? By no means. But it was together. It was whole.

You were whole again.

At least, until you got abducted by Mindflayers.

#baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #for you #for you page #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 #gale fanfic #gale fluff #gale angst #gale #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #gale romance #baldurs gate wyll #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #bg3 karlach #karlach #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldur’s gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #x reader #baldurs gate fanfiction #fanfiction angst

[callsign-bunnie]

Old Habits Die Hard

Ghost is discharged from the SAS after a pretty severe suicide attempt. Now he's forced to live life as a civilian which is... pretty fucking boring. Hence why he jumps at the opportunity to beat the shit out of two punks who come in the rob the store. However, when it turns out they're part of an actual gang who has decided he needs to die... well, things get a hell of a lot less boring. Oh yeah, and he needs to talk to Soap, apparently.

--

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Price would have had a fit if he saw the habit that Ghost had picked up. Well, less a fit. Would have told him to knock it the fuck off, but… Well, fuck that old man. He’s the one who put Ghost in this stupid fucking position and Ghost had to cope somehow.

Ghost went back to tapping his fingers on the glass of the cigarette counter, grateful but bored with the lack of customers at the drugstore he now worked at. Why did he work at a drugstore? His stipend didn’t cover rent anywhere in his Province and he didn’t really want to go anywhere else. Plus, a job would “give him something to do”, according to Alex, who was the only fucker he still talked to.

Well, that was a lie. Okay, really, he just didn’t talk to Soap, Price, and Gaz. The latter because he didn’t talk to Ghost and… well, Soap and Price had both advocated for his discharge. Maybe he was being petty with being mad at them. Maybe he did need to be discharged but… well maybe Ghost wasn’t one to forgive easy. Not yet. One day, he would. But… Not yet.

Actually, working where he did wasn’t too bad. His boss was gone most of the time and there really weren't too many customers, so he was mostly left alone. Thankfully, too, because he’d rather be bored than dealing with people. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and for a moment he considered just ignoring it but… no. He got it out, unsurprised to see Unknown Caller. Alex. He had to use secure phones to make sure no one could track him using their phone calls.

Sighing softly, he answered the phone, leaning against the counter. “Alex.”

“ Hey, man! It’s been a couple weeks since we talked. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Ghost lied. He knew Alex would know it was a lie, but he never called him on it. Alejandro would say it was bullshit to Ghost’s face which… Ghost would reluctantly admit he appreciated it. Sometimes, he needed someone to take him at his word, sometimes he needed someone to call him out.

Now, he really didn’t want anyone to call him out. “How are you?” He asked, genuinely caring about the answer. Alex and Alejandro had become Ghost’s only friends. So, he wanted to know how they were doing.

“ Good! Really good. I uh… got to see Gaz, again. He and Price were out here helping Farah find me when I had, you know, gone missing again. They just left.”

Ghost barely resisted teasing him about Gaz. “That’s good. I’m glad they still help you.”

“ Have you uh… talked to Soap, lately?”

Ghost just snorted and then sighed. “I’ll talk to Mactavish one day, but… not for now, no. I tried.” Once. “All he did was apologize.”

“ He does feel bad.”

“Did you call me just to convince me to talk to him?”

“... maybe. I may have promised Gaz that I’d try to talk to you. Soap is, apparently, really torn up about it. Price sent him to Las Almas while he and Gaz were helping us so Alejandro and Rodolfo could babysit him. ”

Ghost wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t feel bad. But… when Soap had agreed and pushed for Ghost to be discharged… Ghost had felt betrayed. Soap had claimed it was for Ghost’s own good, but Ghost had, only a week before, confided in Soap and told him how badly he needed the military to stay sane. How he had nowhere else to go if he wasn’t there. 

“ Ghost. You almost fucking killed yourself because of a PTSD episode. ”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Ghost defended. Hey, he hadn’t said it wasn’t justified. It just… made him feel betrayed. 

Alex sighed. “ You don’t need to, Ghost. I know how you are. We’ve been friends for a while now. Since Verdansk. ” Honestly, even before Verdansk. They’d worked a few missions before, though Ghost had been freshly traumatized and hadn’t wanted to admit he still needed friends.

Ghost grumbled under his breath before just sighing. “You’re right.” He admitted. One thing he’d been working on was not sabotaging his friendships. “Thanks for calling, Alex.”

“ Of course, Ghost. You’re my friend, I want you to be okay. Just… look, the old man says you don’t have to talk to him, but… talk to Soap. At least tell him you’re not mad at him.”

Ghost huffed. “I am mad-”

“ Lie! ” Alex almost sounded like he was snapping at Ghost, but Ghost knew what Alex snapping sounded like. “ Lie, like everyone does to make you feel better. ”

“Ouch. Low blow.” Ghost mumbled, just hearing Alex hum in response. “Alright, alright. I’ll… think about it.”

“ I guess that’s really the best I can ask for. ” 

“It is.” Ghost agreed and then frowned when he heard the bell for the door chime. “I have to go. Bye.” 

“ Alright. Talk to Soap! Bye. ” Alex hung up and Ghost shoved his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head.

He really did appreciate him, even if his correct advice irritated Ghost sometimes. Ghost went back to tapping on the glass of the cigarette counter, watching some young teenager walk around the store. He didn’t look like a delinquent, so Ghost didn’t bother to keep that close of an eye on him. 

He did, however, keep a very close eye on the two new customers that had walked in. Both were dressed in dark clothing with their hoods up and Ghost could see tattoos peeking out of their hoods, on their necks. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Wannabe gangsters who, if faced with even the slightest bit of actual organized crime, would likely end up pissing their trousers.

Snot nosed little prats, essentially. 

God, he hoped they’d do it. He hoped they’d try to make a few hundred off of that store. Do it, please.

The first one to enter finally came up to the counter with some sodas and a few candy bars. A bag of Malteasers, too. Ghost, occasionally continuing to glance to the other two, rang up the items, unable to help noticing how the kid shrank away from him. “What’s your name?” Ghost asked, though he didn’t honestly care. 

“Dean…” The kid answered, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. “I just got off school.”

Ghost had been like that, once. Felt the need to over explain so no one would think he was trying to cause trouble. He’d more than outgrown that, since he couldn’t care less what anyone thought he was doing. 

He continued to ring up the items, about to tell him the total, when one of the two delinquents came up to the counter. “Hey, my mate needs help.” They said, not at all looking urgent. Ghost noted that they had a tattoo that looked like a dragon coiled in a spiral. He kind of liked it, actually. May get something similar.

“I’ll help in a moment.” Ghost said, trying not to roll his eyes. His boss had mentioned him being nicer to the customers, so he decided to make an effort. “Let me finish ringing this customer up.”

“No, he needs help, now .” A gun was pulled and pointed directly at Ghost. Ghost, however, just stared down the barrel. 

The kid immediately backed up, but the gun moved and pointed at him instead. “Don’t fucking move, or I’ll blast your head off.”

Ghost felt giddy. He felt excited. “Let him go-” He stopped and raised his hands as the gun moved to be pointed at him, instead, and he sighed. “Look, I’ll comply with whatever you ask. I’ll empty the till, hell I’ll get in the safe, just let the kid go.”

“You’ll comply with whatever I ask, regardless,” The delinquent all but growled, shoving the barrel of the gun into Ghost’s shoulder, “but uh… fine. The kid can go.” He gestured and Ghost handed the kid his bag, before the kid immediately ran off.

“Ethan!” The other called, coming up to the counter right as the kid was running off. “Why the fuck did you do that?! He’s seen our faces!”

“Yeah, as if that will matter. He’s a kid, he probably forgot.” Ethan muttered and then shook his head. “Alright, old man, open the till.”

Ghost had to resist grabbing the delinquent's face and slamming it into the glass counter, just turning and putting his keycode in to open the register. He had to fight not to get over excited and just beating the shit out of them. He was fairly certain that gun wasn’t loaded, but smart enough to avoid risking it. 

He took his time, however, watching them eye him as he got out the bills and laid them on the counter. “Your bracelet,” The unnamed one said. “I like it, I want it.”

“Too fucking bad.” Ghost refused to give them that. Maybe he was mad at Soap, but it’d been a gift. One he deeply appreciated and didn’t want to lose. 

“Give him the fucking bracelet!” Ethan cursed and pointed the gun right at Ghost’s head, shaking it as if to punctuate his point.

Ghost stared down the barrel, knowing exactly what type of gun it was. .22, no modifications. Of course not, why would it have any? Ghost leaned forward and put his forehead on the gun. “Do it. Because you’re not getting that bracelet.”

Ethan looked in his eyes and for a moment, Ghost thought he saw his finger tighten around the trigger, but then he saw it. Hesitation. He didn’t want to kill anyone. 

Ghost immediately took advantage of that, reaching up and yanking the gun out of Ethan’s hand, moving his head to the side as the movement caused Ethan to flinch and pull the trigger. Glancing behind himself, he saw a bullet hole in the wall. So it was loaded.

Huh.

He released the magazine, seeing it indeed was loaded and just dropped it, shaking his head and slamming the gun onto the counter. “Idiots.”

“Who are you?” The unnamed one immediately asked, his eyes widened.

“A ghost.” Ghost simply answered before reaching over, grabbing the back of his head, and slamming his face into the counter, grateful when it didn’t break. He then used his elbow to hit Ethan full force in the face, leaping over the counter as Ethan stumbled.

He took said bracelet, which was a very thick steel chained bracelet, and slid it up and over his hand, wrapping his arm around the unnamed one’s neck and starting to slam the side of his now chain wrapped fist into the unnamed one's face after maneuvering so he could.

However, before he could do any real damage, something was slamming into his side, sending him into a shelf, causing it to topple over with him on top of it. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he coughed, slowly rolling over so he could push himself to stand back up.

“Are you okay?” He heard Ethan ask the other and he glanced back, seeing Ethan was touching the other’s nose. “Dan, are you okay?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s just fuck this asshole up and go. Fuck the cash.” Dan’s nose was bleeding heavily and it dripped down his face and his neck. He looked pissed, but Ghost didn’t fucking care, finishing rising to his feet and rolling his shoulders.

He watched Dan and Ethan both prepare themselves, before Dan was running at Ghost, who punched him as soon as he got close and shoved him to the side, catching Ethan mid air as he launched at Ghost and using the momentum to send him into the shelf he’d just shoved Ghost into.

Dan was up almost immediately, and he grabbed a bottle of something, a glass bottle, and hit it over Ghost’s head, which disoriented him. But only for a moment, as he immediately punched Dan again.

He grabbed Dan’s arm and was halfway to snapping his elbow when Ethan launched at him, again. Christ, he only had one move, but it was effective that time as Ghost toppled over, Ethan on top of him.

Impact after impact hit Ghost’s face, only making him angry and he felt beside him, throwing up his arm to block the punches before his hand was wrapping around a broken piece of glass and he slashed up, cutting across Ethan’s face. 

Ethan flinched and Ghost used that to his advantage, shoving him off and standing before cursing as something sharp stabbed into his side, jerking back and feeling his side where a knife now stuck out of it. 

He looked at the knife and then made eye contact with Dan, who was watching him with his eyes wide, as he yanked the knife out of his side. Ghost couldn’t help laughing, since they looked so terrified. Good.

Maybe Alex had a point about him being a bit edgy. Regardless, Ghost flipped the knife so he was holding it correctly and stepped forward, slashing across Dan’s face and giving him a matching cut to Ethan’s. 

He then kicked Dan in the stomach, sending him flying back, and he elbowed Ethan before Ethan could even really do anything, before grabbing his shoulder and shoving him so he landed on top of Dan.

He went over to Ethan, kicking him off of Dan, and grabbed Dan’s collar, using the hand who held the knife to pull his face mask down and spit out blood to the side. “I won’t fault you two idiots for picking the wrong fucking shop to sack, but if I ever see your faces again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Dan’s eye was already swollen and he just quickly nodded, so Ghost dropped him. “Get the fuck out of my shop.” Ghost growled and they both were immediately up and practically sprinting out of the store, tripping over themselves in their attempt to get out. 

Finally, the pain slammed into Ghost and he cursed loudly, looking down at where blood was now staining his black hoodie. Bastards. He shook his head and then cursed again as his phone rang, shaking his head. 

Jason showed on the caller ID and Ghost rolled his eyes, knowing he needed to answer or Jason would refuse to give him what he needed. So, he did. “Jason.”

“ Bloody hell, you sound even more irritated than normal.”

“What do you want?” Ghost spit out more blood and put the phone between his cheek and shoulder, going to the shelf and lifting it so it was back upright, glad to see none of the shelves looked bent. 

Jason chuckled, softly, which just irritated Ghost more. “ Am I still coming by, after your shift, to give you that shit?”

“It’d be nice.” Ghost grunted, putting all of the snacks back on the shelf, though he didn’t do it very neatly. Fuck that. He noticed that most of the money was still on the counter, so he shrugged and went to it, putting it all back in the till. 

“ See you then. ”

“Wait. Grab a first aid kit.”

“... Why?”

-

Ghost resisted growling in pain, having had to walk through Jason cauterizing the stab wound, since it was in too odd of an angle for Ghost to do it himself. “Christ, Simon. How did you manage this?”

“Two idiots sacked the shop.” Ghost muttered, gritting his teeth as Jason cleaned the fresh burn before finally bandaging it. “I defended it.”

“You could have just rang the police.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Ghost shrugged and rolled his shirt back down, only having raised enough of it for Jason to bandage him. “Did you bring my shit?”

“Your shit?? You haven’t even paid me, yet. You’re lucky I’m bringing it at all, since it’ll practically take a fortnight for you to pay me for it.”

“You still bring it.” Ghost reminded, taking a paper bag as it was handed to him. Self medicating, another cope with the perpetual boredness. 

“You’re welcome.” Jason grumbled before hopping up and sitting on the wooden pallets beside Ghost, getting out a cigarette and lighting it. Ghost took it before he could start to smoke it and Jason just sighed and lit another. “You’re a prick.”

Ghost grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a long drag from the cigarette and watching some stray cats run across the street. “There was a kid there. Before they started to rob the store. He looked scared shitless.”

“Yeah, no wonder.” Jason agreed and then sighed. “Well, did you get all of the aggression out of your system?”

“Sure.” Ghost lied. No, no he hadn’t. He probably never would. Knocking punching bags down from the ceiling didn’t help, and neither had this. “Feel better.” That wasn’t a complete lie, he did feel… almost lighter.

“I saw that sergeant the other day. The one you guys call Soap? Asked me about you.”

“What did you say?” Ghost asked, though he honestly doubted Jason had said anything. Jason hardly knew anything.

Jason went quiet before sighing. “Just told him the truth. You hardly talk to me, either. All he really did was ask how you are, anyway. Mentioned worrying you’d do something drastic to yourself.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I will.” Ghost shrugged, again. “Maybe I’ll jump off a bridge or-”

“Don’t joke like that.” Jason sighed, sounding exhausted. “Simon, you’d do it. We all know you would.”

Ghost went silent and continued to watch the cats. “Maybe.” He finally said before taking another drag from the cigarette and shaking his hand out as it started to hurt, again. “You can tell him where I work if he comes to you, again.”

Jason simply nodded, Ghost could see it out of the corner of his eye, and Ghost finished off his cigarette before stomping it out and discarding the butt of it. “Thanks for my shit. I’ll get you the money later.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason just snorted before getting up as well. However, before he even really got a distance away, he glanced back before turning around. “That kid. Did you make them let him go?”

Ghost sighed but nodded. “I did.” He knew what Jason’s next question would be.

“Why?”

Hesitantly, Ghost looked at Jason before sighing again and shaking his head. “He reminded me of Tommy.”

Jason’s eyes immediately moved away from Ghost and he turned back around. “Try to get some sleep, Ghost.” He mumbled before finally heading off. 

Ghost furrowed his brows for a few small moments before shaking it off and heading back to his flat, which was… empty. It was an open floor plan and Alex and Alejandro had both came and helped him move in.

Entirely independent of each other, too, apparently. 

Rodolfo had been there, though he’d mostly just sat with Ghost while Alex and Alejandro did most of the work and then he’d used Ghost’s kitchen to cook a decently sized dinner. If they hadn’t done that, Ghost was fairly positive he’d have killed himself.

Ghost shook his head and pulled off his clothing before falling into bed. He kept the curtains closed and no one ever came by, so he was comfortable enough to show his body. “Show” being used lightly, since again. No one was seeing it.

He’d let Soap see it… once…

For weeks afterward, Ghost had considered that shower to be one of the better moments of his life. It had been after they’d gotten trapped in Las Almas and Rodolfo had told them to shower and clean up before heading out.

There’d been a lot of feelings that Ghost was maybe not ready to confront, and maybe he still wasn’t ready. No, he definitely wasn’t ready now. But, Ghost had hardly even thought about it when Soap had asked him to join. 

That was a lie, he’d thought very hard about it. His hands had shaken the entire time as Soap had helped him discard his clothing, but Soap hadn’t said a word. Just smiled as he washed Simon’s hair. Not Ghost’s, Simon’s hair. 

Asked if he bleached it, which Simon had nodded and said he did. I’m naturally a ginger. But, hard to keep it well taken care of under the mask. So, I bleach it. Considered shaving it all off a few times. 

Don’t you dare, LT.

No. Don’t call me that right now. Just… Just use Simon. That’s who I am.

Alright… Simon.

Ghost rolled onto his back and shook his head. Even now, he didn’t feel like Simon. Simon had been a weak tether… He knew people probably considered Simon the weak scared little Sergeant that Ghost kept locked away, but Simon wasn’t afraid to show his face.

Simon didn’t need the military, Ghost did. 

Simon had slept around and laughed at dumbass jokes from pretty Sergeants with a bit too much confidence. Simon purred when fingers ran through hair as Soap dripped down his skin. Simon loved and could be loved.

Ghost wasn’t that. Ghost was broken and harsh and liked beating the shit out of people who annoyed him. Ghost growled at everything and tore skin. 

Simon would have forgiven Johnny. Simon would have smiled and touched his face as he forgave him. Said he knew Johnny meant no harm by it. 

Ghost couldn’t forgive. He’d lost that ability. He’d lost it when he was angry, digging himself out of a grave he had no right to be in. When all he had wanted to do was burn the world to the ground and settled on systematically ending every single person who had ever participated in his torture, who had ever hurt him. 

All Ghost knew how to do, anymore, was be angry. 

-

“I am begging you to go fuck yourself.” Ghost cursed into the phone, trying very hard to multitask while he bought a meager amount of groceries for the week. Alex was, again, doing his best to convince Ghost to… live. Or something. 

“ Ghost, don’t be like that. When was the last time you… went to the gym or something?”

Actually, Ghost went fairly frequently. It was the only thing that kept the overwhelming anger at bay, sometimes. “Yesterday.”

“ Of course you go to the gym but do nothing else. ”

“I feel like this was a trap question.” Ghost huffed, tossing his items onto the belt. He just pointed at the paper bags before the cashier could ask and turned around, touching his forehead. “I am living. I’m still here.”

“ No. You’re surviving, that’s different. Farah has said she can get a helo to pick you up and you can come here for a few days.”

Actually… that didn’t sound too awful. Ghost considered it.

“ She has ulterior motives, of course. You could help her get rid of a few thorns…”

It was so incredibly tempting, but Ghost knew Alex. He gave an inch and Alex would immediately take a mile, because he knew he could get away with it and Ghost would barely fight him. “I don’t think Price will be happy with that.”

“ Fuck the old man, I’m worried about you. ”

“I can’t.” Ghost nodded to the cashier when they gestured to the card reader, getting out his card. “I think I’m getting used to civilian life.”

“ Yeah, that’s what worries me. Alright, Ghost, just… fuck, man, just talk to someone.”

Ghost just laughed. He said his goodbyes to Alex before shoving the phone back in his pocket, taking his bags and the receipt, pausing as he realized he recognized the cashier. “Dean?” He asked before he could really stop himself.

The cashier, or Dean, the kid from the shop, looked startled before his eyes went wide. “Oh! It’s you! You made them let me go.”

“Yeah.” Ghost frowned and then shook his head. He hoped the kid wouldn’t try to give him the whole “Thanks for saving my life” spiel. He didn’t honestly need or want it. 

“I was, uh… Going to come by the shop, but… Well, since you’re here.” Dean got into his pocket before digging out a black box. “I remembered you had one on.”

Ghost tilted his head, hating how curious he immediately was. Okay, he could accept a gift as thanks. He took the box and opened it, seeing a thin silver bracelet, which kind of matched his other. “Thanks…” He said, kind of dumbly, and put the bracelet on, handing the box back. “It’s uh… nice.”

“My mum wants me to invite you to dinner as thanks-”

Ghost just laughed and took his bags. “Yeah, no thanks kid. Stay out of trouble.” He left before the kid could say anything else, not wanting to listen to any attempts to convince him. He was not interested in going to dinner with anyone as thanks for saving their life. 

He shook his head as he left the store, shifting both paper bags to one arm so he could check his phone, pausing on the sidewalk for a moment. When he lifted his eyes, he met bright blue ones, and he backed up as he recognized them.

Of course he would, he’d recognize them anywhere. 

Soap stood across the street, looking as startled as Ghost felt. Then, Soap started to cross the street, so Ghost turned and immediately started down the sidewalk, back to his flat, hoping if he entirely ignored Soap, that he might just go away.

“Ghost-” Soap called behind him, but Ghost just kept walking, ducking down an alley when he passed by a crowd, and ducking down behind a trash can, watching Soap rush past the opening of the alley.

Ghost rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning around and going out the other side of the alley, just taking the long way home. 

He still wasn’t ready to confront Soap. Maybe he never would be. 

Simon, I- It’s for your own good.

Ghost. It’s Ghost. That’s who I am.

I-

Goodbye, Soap.

His phone buzzed. He checked it, again shifting the bags, and saw it was his boss. I need you to work a late shift.

Yeah, sure. When?

Tomorrow night, until 2 in the morning.

Ghost sent a thumbs up. He didn’t really care about the money, but he also didn’t have anything better to do, so he’d just take the shift. 

Really, it’d just be cutting into his “get high and mope” time. 

God, the great and legendary Ghost, who the mere thought of had had people shaking, had had them terrified. Recruits watched him with awe. Hell, people would whisper his name even when they were countries apart because they were terrified of invoking his wrath.

And every night between 11 and 3, he would get absurdly fucking high and desperately fight to be able to produce just one fucking tear.

How the mighty fall.

Ghost shook it off and finally made it to his apartment, going up to his door, and then immediately turning around as he heard footsteps approach, growling in frustration as he saw Soap. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”

“You used to like that about me.” Soap answered before putting his hands up. “I just want to talk, Ghost.”

“I don’t.” Ghost muttered, unlocking his door and going inside. “I don’t ever want to.”

“Ghost, please…” Soap pleaded, putting his hand on the door before Ghost could shut it. Ghost had enough strength he could just slam it, anyway, but… he didn’t and just looked away from Soap. “Ghost…”

“Fine.” Ghost rolled his eyes and backed away from the door, gesturing for Soap to come in. He shut the door behind him and Ghost went to go put his groceries away. “What do you want?”

“To talk, like I said.”

“Fine. What about?”

“I… I’m sorry-”

“No.” Ghost shook his head. “I do not want to hear your apologies, I do not forgive you. So…” He waved his hand a little. “Pick something else.” He looked up, seeing Soap looked almost startled. 

Soap almost looked unsure what else to do and his eyes moved to look around the apartment. “It’s… nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ghost shook his head, again, and wondered if people could hear his brain rattle when he did that. “Alex and Alejandro helped me set it up.”

“I like it.” Soap moved and sat at a small kitchen table that Ghost had. Reluctantly, Ghost moved and sat across from him, watching Soap think. He was very expressive when he thought, his eyes would shift around, his jaw would clench and unclench, his hands would flex. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” Ghost asked, leaning back in his chair. “You wouldn’t have to if you didn’t… you know, sign off that you thought I needed to be discharged.”

Soap flinched and Ghost almost felt bad. Almost. “Ghost… I’m sorry. ”

“If it happened again, would you do it again?”

Soap didn’t answer before he was nodding. “I would.”

“Then you’re not sorry. Sorry is a synonym for remorseful.” Ghost got up and went to a bookshelf he had, getting out a dictionary. “Remorse, defined as deep regret or guilt for a wrong committed. You don’t think you were wrong and I doubt you regret it.” He moved and dropped the book on the table, watching Soap jump again. “So, you’re not sorry.”

Soap watched him, his eyes wide, and Ghost went to his bed, dropping onto it and covering his eyes with his arm. “I’m done entertaining guests. Goodbye, Soap.”

“Ghost-”

“ Goodbye , Soap.” Ghost reiterated. He peeked out from under his arm when he heard Soap move, and Soap seemed to hesitate before getting up.

Soap, however, then picked up the dictionary, flipping through the pages. “Sorry. Define, feeling distress, especially through sympathy with someone else's misfortune. So, I am sorry.” Soap sighed and then put the dictionary down. 

“Goodbye, Soap.”

Soap looked at Ghost before his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Alright. Goodbye, Ghost.” Then, Soap left, and Ghost rolled onto his stomach, glaring at a wall. 

Fuck Soap.

He didn’t get much time to wallow, though. God, it was like everyone had some sort of bullshit sensor that sensed when Ghost wanted to be fucking left alone. Jason.

Groaning, he grabbed his phone and put it to his ear. “What?”

“ Don’t snap at me. I’ll stop giving you that shit. Anyway, one of those guys that robbed you… did they have a dragon tattoo?”

Ghost had to think about it before frowning. “Yeah… one of those punks, Ethan, did. It was coiled in a spiral.”

“ Fuck! Look, they’re part of a real gang… And they’re angry. They want to kill you.”

“Let them try.” Ghost put his phone between his cheek and ear, sitting up and grabbing his laptop. “What are they even going to do? I’ve wiped out worse than gangs.”

“ Yeah, when you had John Price and the fucking British military behind your ass. You just barely even have yourself! What are you going to do if 30-40 gang members come after you?”

Ghost chuckled. Jason didn’t really know about Roba or his cartel. He didn’t know what Ghost had done. “I can handle it.”

“ Simon. Please.”

“I’m not going to get killed, Jason. I’ll be fine.” Ghost sighed and picked up his phone again, putting it on speaker. “What’s the gang’s name?”

“ Why would I tell you?! You’re just going to do something stupid!! Simon, please just lay low.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Ghost shook his head, laying back in the bed. “If they want to kill me, they can take their best shot.”

“ I’ll call Price. ” 

“You don’t have his number.”

“ Simon, please.”

Ghost sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine. I won’t… seek them out. But I’m not laying low. I’ll just continue life as normal and then… if they come for me, I’ll defend myself. Anyway, I have to go to bed, so…” He pulled away his phone to hang up.

“ Simon, Simon!”

Ghost hung up, anyway, and sighed softly. He searched the internet for the spiraled dragon tattoo, but after about twenty minutes of searching, he’d found only a tattoo shop that had a neck tattoo with the same coiled dragon.

Open all night. Perfect.

So, he got back up, grabbed his keys again as well as his phone and wallet and headed down the stairs. The tattoo shop was one he sort of knew. Rather, he knew of, as a couple of Jason’s mates had gotten tattoos there. But, he’d never personally been.

When he got there, he rolled his shoulders before going in, trying to look as big and imposing as possible. He went up to the counter, where a man sat, looking bored. He could hear the buzzing of tattoo needles as he walked, the murmuring of artists making chit chat with their clients.

It was surprisingly busy, considering it was close to 1:30 AM. However, he ignored that, tapping on the counter when he got up there, watching the man look at him. Ghost looked on the wall and got down the coiled dragon tattoo.

“Sorry, mate, we don’t do repeat tattoos. You thinking of something similar?” He asked, and his shirt said Michael. So, that’s what Ghost decided to call him.

“No, Michael, I am not.” Ghost laid the photo out on the counter, tapping it. “I want to know who got that tattoo and what gang they belong to.”

Michael looked at him and then he chuckled, whistling. Ghost raised an eyebrow and looked around, seeing that most of the artists had stopped tattooing, now looking at him. His eyes did pick up a few weapons here and there.

So, he sighed, straightened, and rolled his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of a fight.” He informed Michael, who laughed. “I just want to know.”

Michael shook his head. “Are you afraid of death? Maybe you ought to turn back around and leave. Nice and easy like, yes?”

Ghost narrowed his eyes and he slammed his hands on the glass counter, leaning in real close to Michael. “My name is Simon Riley. No, I’m not afraid of death, however you very much should be because if you don’t give me the information I want, that pen,” he gestured to a pen very close to his hand, “is going to lodge directly into your trachea.”

Michael squinted and looked about ready to fire off before one of the older artists came over, his face pale. “Did you say… Simon Riley?”

Ghost straightened and frowned, turning to the old man. “I did.” He nodded, glancing over the others and seeing a few other confused faces. 

The old man immediately shoved his weapon, a pole, into Ghost’s hands and backed up, putting his hands up. “I… I… I want no hand in fighting phantoms.” He turned and rushed to what looked like the back and Ghost raised an eyebrow as he heard a couple locks click. 

He turned back to Michael, who now looked very apprehensive and concerned. “Let me try this again-”

He barely had to finish the threat as Michael was immediately spilling everything, complete with pictures and a home address. Ghost laughed victoriously as he exited the tattoo shop, shaking his head. No hand in fighting phantoms. He liked that one. 

Ethan Kurt… Ethan had shoved his hand into fighting the wrong phantom. 

No, that line sucked.

-

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Ghost was so fucking bored. With the threat of being attacked being supposed to be hanging over his head, this was dull. He was starting to think Jason was entirely full of shit, but… he decided he would remain vigilant regardless.

Oh well.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Was it really still only 11:00PM? Granted, he only had three hours left but… fuck. Maybe after this, he would call Alex. He knew it would shock the hell out of him, maybe that’d be hilarious. Listen to him stammer and try not to say anything about it. 

No, because then he’d feel bad and feel like a bad friend and that was bullshit. Ghost didn’t want to be pathetic, wondering if he was a “bad friend.” He was a horrible friend, probably one of the worst, he knew that. He was a grown, almost 30 year old man. Of course he knew that.

Of course.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Lights.

Ghost perked up, seeing what looked like flashlights shining around outside. He ducked down just a little, going to the side window and peeking out, seeing a group of people start to go around to the outside of the building. He could make out 4 which…

If this was the gang supposedly attacking him, he would barely have to do anything. Knock some heads together, break some limbs, done. That was… almost disappointing. 

He returned back to the counter and decided to play nonchalant, sitting on a stool and getting out his phone to play on it. Actually, he’d found some pretty interesting phone games. Card games, those match three games. Some military games which he liked to critique and laugh at. 

They were good to pass the time with and usually didn’t require much thinking, so he kept them around. Currently, he was playing a word game with Rodolfo. Both actually had a fairly high vocabulary in American English, all points considering, so it could get fun. Rodolfo had actually switched the game’s language to Spanish a few times to help Ghost practice.

However, he didn’t go easy on him or help, either, so Ghost lost at an… honestly embarrassing ratio. Alejandro had just told him to take it in stride, that Rodolfo doesn’t really think of those things. Which… Ghost knew that. He knew Rodolfo was similar to him. Sure, he could blame most of it on the trauma but… some of it was genetic. He knew that. Rodolfo was the same.

Besides, it had helped a little. Just a little.

Actually, he missed Alejandro and Rodolfo. He’d never say it to their faces, but it’d been a while since he saw them. It was nearing Christmas, so he knew they’d be taking their forced leave. He also knew if he even hinted at the idea, Alejandro would have a helo down the next day. So, maybe he could go for a couple days. He’d love Rodolfo’s cooking again, and going to bars with Alejandro sounded really nice.

God, fuck, Alex was rubbing off on him or something. What was this… hope?? Disgusting.

Ghost immediately shook it off, just playing a random word against Rudy, laughing softly when he saw two little ?? back because Ghost usually played big words that had Rodolfo cussing him out. Then, he stuck his phone back in his pocket, hearing the bell of the door chime.

He stood, going back to the register, before raising an eyebrow as he didn’t see anyone there. Hmm, he knew the obvious answer would be that they’d changed their mind and left, but… Ghost didn’t trust like that. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized that he was being taunted. Lured. They wanted him to go outside. Carefully, he felt under the counter where he’d stuck a shotgun, as well as several shells, and then he leaned against the counter, waiting. He wasn’t prey, and he wanted them to know that.

Ghost checked the time, seeing it was now midnight, and he took a breath, reluctantly leaving the counter to check everything he’d set up. The back door had a nailbomb set just right for when it was opened, the side door had a packet of noisemakers so he’d hear if it opened.

And, the front door had a bell. Everything else was in a duffel bag behind the counter. He would… admit that he may have had small kleptomanic tendencies and had maybe stolen a few things when he was being discharged.

Obviously things like semtex and frags would not be good to use in the store, but hey, flashes and stuns were free game. No, he didn’t care if he ended up blinding a few punks, he had plans to do more than blind them. 

And then all of his copious amounts of knives. So many knives. 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

More lights. It seemed they had noticed he wasn’t biting the bait, as several of the lights had started to surround the small building. And finally, someone came in. Dan. He recognized him fairly easily, even though his hood was down now. 

“Hello, old man.” Dan said, in a tone clearly meant to be taunting. He had a gun, something a bit heavier than the .22 they’d had before. 

“I’m 30.” Ghost sighed, shaking his head. “I turned 30 last month.”

Dan paused, clearly started. “You’re only thirty?” He blinked before immediately shaking it off. “Whatever. You know why I’m here.”

“Maybe.” Ghost acknowledged, moving to sit on the stool again. “I’m confused why you decided you needed to bring… 30? 30 other prats with you.”

Dan glared at him, before shaking his head. “Nobody fucks with me and gets away with it.”

“I’m confused, mate, you tried to rob me.” Ghost laughed, crossing his arms. “You came into my work and had your mate put a gun to my head. Then you tried to rob me.”

“You could have just given us the money and we would have left!” Dan snapped. Ghost could see a bandage on his cheek, which appeared to be in need of changing. “So, now, we’re going to bloody kill you.”

“Sure.” Ghost laughed, nodding. “Go ahead. Take your best shot.” He hummed, standing and leaning against the counter. “Maybe you want to go and reconvene with your buddies. If you leave, I won’t do anything. I won’t seek you. I won’t hunt you down. But… if you stay, well… you’ve been warned.”

Dan’s glare only deepened. “You’re quite cocky.”

“I think I’ve earned it.” Ghost said. “Like I said. You have one chance.”

Dan appeared about to answer, likely to make some stupid quip, but then Ghost heard a small explosion from the back and some screaming, and he chuckled. “Too late.”

Dan stared behind Ghost into the back, clearly stunned, and Ghost ducked down, grabbing the shotgun and shooting at Dan. Dan was quick to duck out of the way, barely managing to be missed by any spray. 

Then, Ghost was having to duck down to avoid gun spray, rummaging in the bag for a smoke and tossing it into the back, before grabbing a knife and ducking through the doorway. He followed the sound of coughing, able to make out five distinct individual coughs.

The first was fairly close to the doorway that led to the front of the store, so he swept their legs and slit their throat, not wasting time to look at their face or even really wait for them to die. He just shoved them directly in the path of another, who stumbled backwards over them.

They hit the ground rather hard and Ghost pounced on the opportunity, stabbing them through the eye and directly into their brain. He backed up as he noticed two figures come towards him, watching them stumble through the smoke.

One tripped on his friend’s body and they landed right on top of the pair, and Ghost could just make out their eyes widening, before he threw the knife through their temple. The second spotted him right as he did that, and he rolled to the side to avoid being shot, throwing the smoke canister at them.

It hit them square in the stomach and they doubled over, coughing, so Ghost lunged forward and yanked the gun out of their hands. He stuck it right into their chest and shot through, sending them backwards.

Footsteps.

He whipped around and shot who had just tried to sneak up on him through the head, right as the smoke started to clear. Rushing, he slid to shut the door before sprinting back out to the front, narrowly ducking in time to avoid being hit in the head by the butt of a gun.

He slammed the butt of his own gun into the person who tried to attack him, recognizing Ethan who hit the ground with a snarl. “Fuck.” Ghost growled. “It’s clear you don’t want to be doing this, why are you?”

Ethan paused, clearly surprised, and then he glared. “Dan’s like my brother. Wherever he goes, I go.”

“Say hello to him in hell, then, I guess.” Ghost muttered, and went to shoot him, before crying out in surprise as something tore through his side. He looked down at his side, seeing a gun shot wound. 

Being smart, though, he still shot Ethan through the head, cursing, and ignoring yelling behind him. He ducked back through the doorway of the back, checking how many bullets were left in the magazine of his gun. Enough, but he didn’t really want to use it, anyway.

So, he tossed it to the side and yanked the knife out of that temple he’d thrown it through, patting the dead body and having to resist the knee jerk reaction to thank it. Instead, he crouched low and stayed close to the wall and the doorway, listening and hearing several footsteps near.

He could see his duffel bag just a small distance away and now he had to consider if it was worth diving for it to retrieve another smoke grenade, before ducking again as more gun spray came. He winced as he saw if he’d stayed where he was, several bullets would have landed directly in his body.

Bollocks. 

He shook his head and stayed as low as possible, ducking through the doorway and sliding to his bag, very glad to see a flash was sitting at the top. Turning, he depinned and tossed it right in the middle of a group coming towards him, before covering his eyes.

When he opened them, he saw they were stumbling over themselves, which almost had him laughing softly, but he resisted and took a very small moment to check the wound on his side, cursing as he saw it was an all the way through gunshot. 

However, the placement of it made him think that whoever shot him really didn’t know what they were doing. 

He grabbed the shotgun, and turned, blasting the small group of four he’d flashed, before panting and peeking over the counter to see how many were in the store, glad to see that so far there was none. 

Carefully inching to the group of four, he growled as he saw none of them were Dan. “Where’s Dan?” He asked one, which was wheezing and holding a hole in his stomach. He seemed to be hit with the majority of the blast. 

“Fuck you.” They coughed, blood coming up with it. “They’re gonna fucking kill you.”

“I’ve gotten ten of you.” Ghost rolled his eyes, ignoring a pulse of pain from his side. He killed them with his knife, swiftly, and went to the next one, which was holding his leg. “Where’s Dan?”

“I’m not telling you-” He killed them, too. Fuck them.

Of course, the other two had to be just as stubborn, and they went just as fast. It seemed his enemies were reconvening, so he took the opportunity to as well, very shittily bandaging up his side. Another scar to add to the pile.

God, he was having so much fun. He felt like he was back on a mission, again, clearing out some enemy encampment. Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body and he loved the feeling of it. He missed this so fucking much.

Carefully, he peeked over the counter again, frowning as he saw nothing. No lights, no people. Nothing… Well, he still saw the dead bodies, so he knew this wasn’t a case of him losing his mind. He narrowed his eyes and slowly stood, ready to duck down at the slightest hint of gun fire, but… he saw nothing.

Even still, he grabbed a smoke grenade out of the duffel bag, only having another flash and two stuns. He uh… hadn’t been able to grab much. 

He also put new shells into the shotgun, keeping both close as he carefully inched out from behind the counter, peeking around the shelves and seeing that there was no one. Nothing. Considering, he ducked into the back, checking the security cameras.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have the code, but he could fucking care less. He watched the footage and saw… they were all gone. No one was around the building.

Had they gotten freaked out and left?? No… He seriously doubted that. 

But if they hadn’t left, what the fuck was this? Did they plan to come back at a later day and try to surprise him? Maybe. That made the most sense. Whatever, he’d be ready. He did have to figure out how he’d explain the bullet holes and dead bodies but… eh, he doubted Price would let him take the fall for it.

Plus, he’d disappeared once, he could do it again.

So, he went out to the front, planning to drag each body to the back and stack them in a pile. A neat little pile. Then, he’d finish out his shift by mopping up all of the blood and go the fuck home.

Sleep sounded very nice, he wouldn’t lie. For once, it sounded fantastic. 

So, once he’d made his little pile, he went back out to the front and grabbed the mop, starting to clean up the blood. Maybe if Price did take care of this, he’d go ahead and talk to Soap. This adrenaline had him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Warm and fuzzy enough to consider trying to talk to Soap.

He didn’t hear the car in time.

Crash.

The impact sent him flying across the shop and he hit a shelf hard, the air knocked completely out of his lungs. He fell to the ground, coughing and rolling onto his back. Fuck, something was broken.

He had no hope of dragging himself to his feet, he was far too stunned, and he coughed again, closing his eyes, before opening them to someone crouching down and getting in his face. Dan sneered at him, “I outsmarted you.”

Ghost laughed, tasting blood, and he managed to reach up to yank down his mask and spit the blood on Dan’s face, seeing him splutter and jerk back. He then snarled and raised a fist to punch Ghost.

Ghost closed his eyes, preparing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt weight land on his body, and when he opened his eyes, Dan was slumped over, a gaping hope splurting blood from his head. 

Making a face, he shoved Dan off to the best of his ability, before someone was grabbing his hand and yanking him to his feet. “Dude. You just had to bring shit to yourself.”

Ghost immediately jerked to look at the person, recognizing Alex’s voice and his face immediately. “Alex?? Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing here?” He didn’t think about it, limping forward and hugging his friend.

Alex was clearly shocked, but he hugged back and chuckled. “Your friend, Jason, called me. Apparently, he got one of my phone numbers from your phone. I think he thought he would be calling Price, but I came out all the same.”

Ghost would have been mad at Jason, but he was honestly glad to see Alex. “I had it on my own,” he joked, before wincing at a lot of pain in his sides. “Sort of.” He mumbled.

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Alex snorted before nudging his head in the direction of the vehicle. Ghost looked over, recognizing Farah as she cleared out several more of the gang members, a young woman with her. 

“I thought she didn’t leave Urzikstan.” Ghost frowned, raising an eyebrow as she and the young woman finally came over.

“I do not attack on the offense.” Farah stated, smiling as she came over. “But, I’m always willing to help out a friend if they need it.” She held out her hand and Ghost gladly shook it, before shaking his head. “Alex was going to come alone. This is Malika, my love.” 

Malika smiled and also shook Ghost’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Alex and Farah have said a lot.”

Ghost took a breath before shaking his head. “I thought I had it.” He admitted, grunting. “I didn’t expect to be hit by a car.” The pain was almost overwhelming but… he’d again had worse. However, he did allow himself to pant a little. “Thank you.”

“Dude. What’s up with you? You’re never this sappy.” Alex joked and punched Ghost’s shoulder, before wincing as blue and red lights appeared, as well as sirens. “Fuck.”

“Get out of here.” Ghost said, gesturing to the back. “Alex, you’re still a traitor to the United States and I don’t think Farah will be treated too kindly.”

Alex appeared to hesitate before nodding. “I’ll find you tomorrow and we can talk, alright?”

“Alright.” Ghost nodded. He went to the cigarette case and got a box and a lighter, nodding a bye as all three left, almost as fast as they came, and he chuckled softly, going back to Dan’s dead body. “You still lost. Cheers, you slag.” He muttered, before standing and waiting to be arrested.

He didn’t fight his arrest, he didn’t fight being put into cuffs. When he was stuck at a table, he didn’t say anything, just wrestled a cigarette out of the box and pushed his mask up with both hands before fighting to light a cigarette one handed.

“You killed twenty people.” The officer stated. “Twenty gang members. They were heavily armed.” 

“You know, that’s a good point. How did they even have weapons? Aren’t you guys supposed to be stopping that?” Ghost leaned back in his seat, blowing out the smoke he’d taken in. 

The officer rolled her eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ghost took another long drag from the cigarette before slowly letting it out, seeing her phone ring. As she got it out, he chuckled. “I’m a ghost.”

She gave him a look before answering the phone. Within seconds, her face had paled, and he was let go hardly minutes later, with a half mumble to stay out of trouble. 

He walked home with a grin on his face. 

-

Alex had just left. While he was there, he and Ghost had discussed him going to Urzikstan, and Ghost had reluctantly promised to consider it. Already, he was thinking of just saying yes, disappearing to Urzikstan and running missions for Farah.

For now, though, he was sipping tea and eating lunch. Outside, too, at a little restaurant he knew and liked. He even hummed a bit as he ate, watching some birds fight over a piece of bread. What a fitting metaphor.

Soap came and sat in the chair across from him, at first silent. Ghost turned to look at him, sighing. “The charm of your tenacity has worn off, Johnny.”

“I think what I did for you will bring it back.” Soap chuckled. “After your… encounter, I talked to Price. I told him that I was wrong. I was stupid. I talked to Alex and Alejandro and both of them… agreed that you’ve been worse as a civilian. I even tracked down your friend, Jason. He uh… tore me a new one.”

“Oh?” Ghost had to admit, he was a bit shocked by that. “Over?”

“Agreeing with Price that you needed to be discharged.” Soap mumbled and then sighed. “So, I told Price that.. You’re just going to keep getting in trouble if you’re out here. He’s agreed to let you back into the SAS. He’s already pulling strings.”

Ghost blinked at Soap, quite surprised. “You’re bloody joking.”

“I wouldn’t joke about that, Ghost.” Soap winced. “He thinks you’re less of a problem in the SAS. In… the 141. He can keep an eye on you and you can’t end up antagonizing another gang.”

Ghost barely resisted exclaiming that they had tried to rob him, just sighing instead. “I don’t know. What if I have another episode again?” He snarked, feeling slightly bad when Soap winced. 

“He’s prepared to deal with it.” Soap mumbled. 

Ghost considered before shrugging. “I’ll think about it. I have a lot of offers, need to consider my options.”

Soap looked startled before laughing softly. “Alright. Consider it.”

Ghost hesitated before sighing. “Come back to my place… Johnny?”

Soap again looked startled and this time, he took a moment before relaxing.

“Of course, Simon.”

--

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