#love is getting flashbacks of your hand in mine so vivid and painful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sokonoi · 11 months

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can u do tr characters when y/n is ovulating and after sex she realizes she yk acted out than usual and is embarrassed ( can u include kazutora, draken, baji etc )

𝐎𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | MULTI

ft. kazutora, draken, baji, kakucho, rindou.

contents. reader is ovulating!! size kink. fem reader is dominant. unprotected sex. plan-b trips. blowjob. brief arguing. car sex. daddy kink. chocking. praise. embarrassment. degradation/praise. slight d/s undertones. bathroom sex. usage of the word slut & bitch. breeding kink?? enjoy ovulating queens!! no beta reader. masturbation. WHITE MODE SUGGESTED, but do what you want pussy queen

noties : had loads of fun. i hope you like anon<33

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀

You can’t look him in the eye, as vivid flashbacks plague your mind.

Kazutora’s hips were about to give out as you both reached your limits. Your tongue lolled out in ecstasy. “Who’s my fuckin slut?” you say in his ear. His whole body locked and relaxed as he kept thrusting into you. You grasp his chin and point it down to you, “Who’s my fuckin slut?

His cheeks turn red, “m-me?” he responds unsure. “Of course, you are,” you giggle. You are entirely hysterical, the dopamine clouding your mind.

And as you sit at his mother’s table, your legs are like jelly as you rerun the fuck in your mind: in his car, down the street. You try to blink it away, but can’t as white-hot embarrassment floods you. It wasn’t like you.

Later on Kazutora slips beside you. Giving you a look, “Are you ovulating?”

The question takes you by surprise as he stuffs his face full of chips. “Why?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips, “Nothin.”

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

“I just think it’s funny! How you love smilin’ in other bitches faces!”

Draken throws you a lazy smirk, “Really y/n.”

“You think this is a game?”

Draken laughs, but his laugh is cut short as you grab his balls. “This fuckin cock is mine. Everything that is Draken is mine!”

He gives you the longest stare, “Prove it.”

That’s how you ended up, in the bathroom—with his cock in your mouth. You’ve never sucked this hard. Your tongue swirled around his cock head, as you tried to suck his big dick in. your other hand preoccupied with fondling his balls.

Draken bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds. You can feel him getting ready to come. You pull your hot mouth away from his cock. Looking him dead in his eyes, “Do those other bitches suck you like this.”

No answer. You drag your teeth over his tip.

“No. No, they don’t. Only you,” he mumbles hands covering his eyes. “Good.” you hum. Continuing your ministrations.

The walk to the car was torturously quiet. There was nothing left to be said since you practically sucked the cum out of him. Yet you were shying away from him, as he placed his hand around your shoulder. Draken picks up on it, “Don’t be embarrassed now!”

𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈

“Yes!” you cry as your feet curl.

“You love this dick?” Baji breathes huskily in your ear.

“Yes,” you whine as he pounds inside you

Baji’s thrusts are erratic as he pumps into you. You’ve come at least 3 times already as he further pushes his hard cock inside you. Your legs begin to shake under the pressure. “Baji,” you cry

“Yea, sweet girl. I’m right here,” he says gently caressing your cheek.

Baji was expecting you to say: “You couldn’t take it”. And to which he would say yes you can. Yet the scenario didn’t play out like that. “Cum in me,” you whisper seductively. He almost blows his load right then and there. “Want you to put a baby in me!” you mumble as your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

Baji’s brain completely shuts off at those words as his fingers gently wrap around your neck. “You want my cum sweet girl?” his thrusts become near pain. You nod to him deliriously.

He erupts inside you almost out of breath. You both don’t understand the magnitude of your decision until you both sit in the car with a Plan B staring back at you. “You wanna explain last night?” Baji questions turning his complete body to you.

Nope,” you say popping the O. He cocks his head to the side confused.

“You were stupid enough to actually cum in me. So don’t flip this on me.”

Baji’s mouth hangs agape, ”You told me too!!’

“Doesn’t mean I was serious!”

𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

You’re riding him so good, your mouth hangs open. “Kaku. Kaku. Kaku,” you chant over and over as your ass meets his pelvic bone.

“Yea, keep riding me just like that. Making me so proud,” he praises which makes you further slip into such deep trance.

His hands find the bottom of your ass. Lifting you up with ease, supporting you. He brings you back and forth on his cock. The tip of him hits such a sensitive spot it makes you dizzy.

For support, you place a hand on his chest.

“Yes Daddy,” you yell in a fit of pleasure. Kaku blinks back the surprise before assuming his role. You’ve designated for him. “Daddy huh?”

“Gonna make Daddy proud and cum one more time. I know you can,” he whispers in your ear.

“Yes,” you mumble out.

“Yes, what? Daddy can’t hear you.”

As you lay facing away from Kakucho nothing, but downright shame washes through you. What had gotten into you? Mother Mary you were gonna need all the priests in the world to baptize this sin away.

Kakucho slips in behind you his arms beaconing you to a safe place in his chest. You bury your face there hoping he can’t see you.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kakucho says simply as he kisses the top of your head. “I suspected you were into it anyway.”

Your lift up your mouth hanging open with pure shock.

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

He’s busy in another meeting—a pout form on your lips as your panties dampen.

You’ve been waiting for him all day yet nothing. You even walked past with skimpy clothing and all. He still didn’t pull the phone away from his ear. You were hopeless, even a pillow wouldn’t suffice.

You skitter inside his office with nothing on. Your tits bounced with every step. Rindou doesn’t move almost like he’s been frozen in time.

The phone doesn’t leave his ear, however. You can fix that as you climb atop his desk a devilish smirk on your lips. You open your legs revealing the wetness that had formed over a long tortuous day.

Your fingers pulled your pussy lips apart as you slipped in one finger easily then another.

A small moan leaves you as you begin to fuck yourself on his desk. Rindou’s eyes don’t leave from between your legs. He removes the phone from his ear discontinuing the line.

“Oh. It’s like that.”

Rindou wasn’t any stranger to how your ovulation affected him and you. Of anything it made him ecstatic. It made him feral with the need to breed your pretty little womb.

sokonoi—like & reblog lovelies

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zoe-is-amazingg · 1 year

Text

A Bullet to the ♥ Pt 2

A bullet to the heart Part two ♥

Ethan Landry X Reader !!!Spoilers if you haven't watched Scream VI!!! W/C - 1.5 K Summary - The one where the flashbacks are getting so servere you think your seeing Ethan in mirrors. Warnings - Blood and gore, drugs

use, vivid dreaming, angst for daysss, man in the mirror type of shit, first person, mentions of sex,, swearing, character touching herself, first person POV, a tiny bit of fluff

some characters from other shows fed into this, Jeremaih is from T.S.I.T.P! Part uno right here

MINORS DNI !!!

It's been two months, two months since I shot him, right in the chest. Two months since I shot him to death, he could've lived, I could've ran up to him and made him stop, but I didn't, I shot him, right in the fucking chest, the chest that I've buried my head up against, a chest that I've kissed, a chest that I've cried on.

It was all my fault too! I'm at fault! I would rather it had been me, but here's the thing, I know that if I hadn't shot him, Kirby would've. I'm so at fault for all of this shit, the tears, the blood, the cutting. It was a bullet right too the heart, it affected me so much, I've barely even left the house in these two months.

I can't deal with this pain anymore, I mean, as much as He would want me too, I just can't. I've tried to go to therapy, but what would I say? 'Oh, I shot my boyfriend while he was in a Ghost face mask, trying to kill my best friends.'

The guilt has been consuming, waking up with a nightmare every night for the past two months. There usually the same. I'm in the wired warehouse with Ethan in my arms, screaming out his name and not in the way I did before I knew his last name wasn't even Landry.

I'm surprised I even made it out of there alive, I just wished he went out of there with me. I loved him, well, in-love with what he meant for me to see. The way he would play with my panties in the middle of class, the way he would grab my hair and kiss my neck.

He would always cradle my cheek, he was very clingy. He was always holding my hand or touching some part of my body in some way. He was a lost puppy when he wasn't around me. Mindy found us a tiny bit gross.

I go into my bathroom and strip the clothes of my body. I turn the tap on and put myself under the water. I run shampoo through my hair and this voice rings in my ear. "Forgetting about me already?" The voice sounds a lot like… "Ethan? How the hell can I hear you?" I mutter, I out conditioner in my hand and rub it through my hair. "Remember when we fucked the time before I died and you were screaming out my name?" He asks and I shake my head. "Come on, you were so horny and you rode me so fast."

"I don-""Come on, lower that hand down there, I would be sad if you didnt." He whispers. I trail my hand between my legs and put pressure on my clit. "Good girl." I moan out as I rub my clit in circular movements. "Ethan." I moan out lightly.

"Just remember that I love you." He says. I rub it faster and I realize that my own fingers won't be enough for me to ride my high. Then the thought comes in that I'm insane for thinking that he's talking to me. I turn off the tap and I wrap a towel around my body. "Your not real, your not alive." I mutter to myself. I look into the mirror and see him standing behind me. I turnaround and see that no ones behind me.

"I'm more real then what's his name?" He mutters. I shake my head. That was one of the one times that I left the house. Tara set me up with Jeremiah, a golden retriever type boy with blonde curly hair. I kissed him and he kissed me back and I moaned his name, not Jeremiahs, Ethans. "Jeremiah, that's right?"

"Go away." I mutter. I sigh loudly. "Don't lie, you loved thinking that it was me. Kissing him, grabbing his curly, blonde hair, but imagining they were mine. Imagine if he put his dick in? What if-""Shut up!!" I yell. I punch the mirror and it shatters. I scream, pull my hair and cry lightly.

I didn't need to see him in crazy dreams or if I'm going crazy, I still miss him every second of everyday. I get dressed and ready and call Sam

"Hey." "Hi." "How are you going at the moment?" "Uh, fine. Why are you calling me?" "Can I come over? I get you guys are going through stuff, but this is very important." I mutter and I hear her nodding. "Yeah….yeah, sure?" She sounds confused. "Great! I'll be there in a bit." I say and I hang up.

I get into my car and look in my side mirror. "Hey, Y/n, You can't get rid of me that easily." He smirks. His face was covered in blood this time and his chest had a bullet hole. I press harder on the gas and push the thought of him back in my mind.

I arrive at Sam's apartment and knock at the door. Chad opens it and I raise my eyebrows. "Hooking up with Tara?" I smirk. "No, Sam's in her room." Chad mutters. I pushed past him and walked into Sam's room.

"What's so important that you needed to see me?" She asks, I shake my head. "I'm seeing him." I say, closing the door and looking at my feet. "Who? Who are you dating? Look, I don't think this is that im-" "I'm seeing Ethan, not like in dating, I'm seeing him in mirrors and stuff." I interrupt her.

"That's been what has been happening to me…" She trails off and I sigh. "I know, can you just give me some Meds, please." I plead. I look at her and she stands up, pulls open her drawers and get a prescription bottle. "Here you go, don't take more then five at a time." She says as she hands me the bottle. I take it off her and smile at her and leave. I take two and take a drink from my drink bottle. "Two isn't enough to get rid of me, Y/n." Ethan smirks in my rear view mirror. I take two more and flush it down with another drink.

I drive back to my own apartment and shake my head. I feel tried when I arrive and drag myself into the kitchen, I forget how many I've taken beforehand and take four, no more than five, and I've only taken one or two so that's just six. I take it down and grab some vodka and down it with that. I put the bottle away and drag myself into bed. I cover myself with the blankets and fall asleep.

I wake up in a bed with the walls covered in blood and some of the blood was written into words that spelt out. 'Ethan's death was your fault.'. Ethan walks into the room and sits down on the bed. "Hey." He smiles, he touches my cheek and I swear for a second, that it felt real and it was really happening.

"Uh hey." I managed to get out. He caresses my cheek and places a kiss against my lips. I've forgotten what his lips taste like. "How was your sleep, have you dreamt about me, bleeding out and how it was your fault." He asks. I gasp as blood crawls out of his mouth and eyes.

I half scream and it comes out breathless and dry. I rush out of bed and but my back against the wall. I can't, what is going to happen out of this? I need to breathe. He follows after me and I try to scream as he gets closer. He keeps muttering the same words. "It will always be your fault."

I try to pull the door open and realized that there was blood covering them. I bang at the door and it doesn't make any noise, instead it shatters and I fall into the empty void of nothing.

I wake up in a hospital bed, my body stiff. I look around and Tara, Mindy and Chad are sitting down. "What's happening?" I mutter out, looking at them. They all get up and look down at me. "You had an overdose. Sam only said for you to take only five." Tara shakes her head. "You blacked out, Y/n. You were muttering things in your sleep." Mindy replies.

"But I swear it was real." I mutter. "What?" Chad asks. "The dream, Ethan, he was there! He kissed me!" I admit.

A/N - Even though no one asked for this, here it is!

#scream franchise #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 5 #scream 2023 #angst #ethanissohot #jack champion fluff #jack champion x reader #ethan landry headcanons #ethan.txt

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itsoutrageouss · 3 years

Text

feel this? ☾ din djarin

ONE SHOT

summary: You’re Dins fairly new travel companion on the crest, and the two of you still have a lot to learn about one another. You have always been bothered by vivid nightmares, something you fail to hide from the punctilious bounty hunter…

pairing: din djarin x reader

word count: 3,9k

warnings: sleep deprivation/insomnia, angst

A/N: Hi! Just to be clear, this is definitely not to romanticize insomnia or nightmares (I suffer from it myself) it’s simply to show how important contact and feeling safe can be when you feel like this, and uh this is my first ‘official’ piece of writing with din so lmk what you think!

✰✰✰

Din subtly notices the way your energy fades as the days pass. At first he doesn’t think anything of it, you’re human and you get tired of course. But the way your words sometimes slur or don’t totally make sense; the way you blink with slow, heavy eyelids and the way your complexion is pale like porcelain makes him worry. It still isn’t enough for him to comment on it because he respects your boundaries the way that you have shown him you respect his, but he notes himself to keep an eye on you. More than usual, at least.

You are heading back to Nevarro. All the collected bounties are proudly stocked in the carbonite and the foundling safe asleep. Din hasn’t talked since he threw the last and particularly loquacious quarry on board. You figure he’s exhausted, so you let him be in the cockpit as you go to the hull for occupation. Din has asked you to fix the heat sink and cooling radiator panels that seem to be faulting, so you might as well get to it now. As you make your way up the latter, you suddenly get a rippling flashback to last night.

Crawling up a wall, trying to escape. The images pierce through your mind, but you keep climbing, screwing your eyes shut tightly. Damn nightmares. Not only do they deprive you of a normal sleep schedule (which the kid does not help with), but you spend so much daytime thinking about them too that you are absolutely drained mentally and physically. You keep chanting how it’s gonna pass like it always does, but it doesn’t seem to do it.

There are only two sliding doors between you and The Mandalorian, and you make sure he hears you come up the latter so you don’t startle him somehow, and silently let him know what you’re doing. Hair drapes over your face, so you automatically gather it and tuck it away in less than two seconds; number one skill to have.

You begin to disperse the panels, laying out tools randomly and picking up different screws and components to get to the core problem. Your back is tense and rigid from the work, and you involuntarily feel your hands fumble and sweat as the metal parts slur in your palms, slipping out with loud clings against the silver floor. Another flashback of your hands slipping on the wall’s hot stone hinges in your recent nightmare makes you drop the wrench on your toe. Biting down on your teeth harshly you hold back a growl of pain, managing just to hiss like a Loth-cat. You blink rapidly down at the tools, but they still seem unclear and you can’t really remember their names. Instead of trying to keep going, you shamefully plop yourself onto the floor completely, letting your shoulders almost pop from their sockets in exhaustion. The biting cool metal wall hugs your burning skin, and you press into it impossibly tight to cool off. You keep looking at the parts sprinkled around you to remember what you are doing, but they swirl together and double until your eyes strain so much that you have to close them. Just a few minutes, is your excuse this time.

...

It has been approximately 15 minutes, Din thinks. He knows that you are trying not to disturb him and he appreciates it, because getting used to not only a child but another person on the ship everyday takes some time and space. But for some dumb reason he still finds himself hyper-aware of the fact that you are just pacing around or fixing something, and that makes him restless to get up. The pilot's chair creaks as he drags his tired body out of the cockpit, and he opens the door to where he last heard you going.

It takes him a second to understand what he’s seeing. The panels are open and exposed, different parts and tools scattered on the floor. And in between them you’re sitting against the wall with your eyes closed. You look pale, and your hair is disheveled around your shoulders. Sighing, he admits that he can’t keep avoiding the issue anymore. He stands awkwardly for a few more seconds, debating the best thing to do. He wants to let you sleep, that is his first priority, but he can’t have you sitting on the floor or leaving the panels wide open. So he decides to stand just a little longer as still as an actual beskar statue, and before he can make a better plan you are moving uncomfortably and kicking a few tools accidentally. His head snaps to you as your hands drop the components they were holding. “Fuck” you groan, your neck sore from the position against the wall, heart racing at the stabbing sound of metal against metal. Your eyes are heavy as they drag across the unfinished work on the floor, leading to a pair of boots. You slowly look up to the T of a visor that is burning into your skin.

“Are you sick?” He asks, before you can open your mouth, which is completely dry. You wipe your forehead with your shirt, scrambling to your knees to continue the work.

“Nope. Not sick. Just tired” you huff, waving the tools around to seem casual. “You’re not just tired” he states, sighing your name in frustration when you don’t as much as gaze his way. “You can sleep in the hull if that’s better, '' he tries, still looking down at you with a stiff stance. “S’ not the bed'' you mutter, trying to pick up where you left off. Din doesn’t want to play a guessing game right now, his patience wearing thin over these past few days. So he just leans against the wall, his arms crossed daringly across his beskar covered chest. You feel his visor burn into your side, and you close your eyes instead of rolling them. “It’s just nightmares'' you admit, trying to shrug it off “It will pass”

“If that was true you wouldn’t be falling asleep every second there’s silence” that is the longest sentence you’ve heard from him in a while, and it isn’t exactly softly said. You just scoff at him “It’s not your problem Din, it’s mine” you glare at him with a frown, your tired eyes narrowing from his helmet and back down to the panels.

But he won’t give up so easily now that he’s got you on the hook. He’s still trying to get a taste of how you two communicate together, and his responses aren’t always the best, he knows that. But you also know how hard he’s trying.

“It is my problem because it’s affecting your work” his static voice comes through, still not particularly gentle. This isn’t how he wanted things to go. “Well I’m sorry but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. Right now you’re the one affecting my work Mando” you bite back, your head shielded from his sight by the panels, to your advantage because warm tears are silently prickling the corners of your eyes. He’s silent as usual, standing so still that you think maybe he’s the one sleeping. Until he sighs again in discontentment and leaves. So much for confrontation.

Now he knows, at least. Knows that it isn't him or the ship that causes your sleep deprivation. But you only feel more frustrated with this; You have failed to keep it to yourself and managed to let it interfere with your work, which is the last thing you want. You have to do something about this problem, but how do you just stop nightmares like that? Sleeping in a new place, constantly on new planets with new people is too much ‘new’ and you can’t do much until you finally feel settled in this lovely wreck you call a home now. And you know that this frustration and stress is only going to pile on and infiltrate into your sleepless nights. Almost automatically your hand fists and punches the panel in front of you, feeling the dull ache like lightning from your knuckle to your shoulder, muscles rippling in pain. You are sure Din hears it, and you’re already prepared to say that you dropped the wrench or something, because you just can’t handle more of his disappointed sighs today. Rolling on those 15 minutes of sleep you finish the work hurriedly, now with an injured hand.

…

You are bored as fuck. Din and you haven’t spoken since the incident, just lulling around each other in silence. It’s tense. Usually it’s a comfortable silence you find yourself in, because you know that’s just his typical exterior and way of communicating. But now you know there is a reason why he’s brooding and averting, and the feeling is mutual; It’s easier to let it hang in the air, despite the heavy feeling on your shoulders.

Your hands roam the food stash, your arms fully swallowed by the cabinet. You’re running low, but there’s still a couple of silver cans left. You haven’t dared to ask Din how far from Nevarro you are, so you just put one can out for him and one for you. He isn’t around, so you place the can between your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your teeth as you bite down on the cool metal. Quickly you drag yourself up the latter, and place the can with a spoon outside the door of the cockpit. Right there on the floor, like a fucking gift or something. You curse at your own feverishness, fingers flexing in a rhythm.

Why are you suddenly so uncomfortable? You don’t even dare to knock on the door anymore. Usually you aren’t scared to confront and push Din’s buttons, almost excited to test the tin-bucket man's limits when you can’t physically see them on his face. You decide to just leave the food there, taking your own can and snuggling into the little bed of yours. It’s crammed into a small storage room that Din has cleared out for you despite your protesting about the floor being fine on it’s own.

Din hears you crawl up the ladder, but then your sounds -that he knows so well- disappears. He can always hear you: the way you breathe, the way your clothes sound when you move, the way you walk and talk. It’s not intentional, but he can probably pick you out of a crowd of a million just by the sound of your existence.

For a minute he thinks you might’ve fallen asleep again, and he unwillingly turns to leave the cockpit. He almost steps on whatever is in front of the door, eyes darting around with no aim. He picks up the silver can, staring at it for way too long. Are you scared to be in the same room as him? Are you mad? You’re probably mad, he figures. That wasn’t a tool that landed on the floor earlier, he has punched the wall too many times and immediately recognized the sound- as always.

He guesses you’re asleep by now, the child as well.

…

And you are, but you’re running. In the middle of nothing, but it feels like everything. Dirt, or sand under your feet you can’t tell. Your head is aching with the voice of someone you can’t recognize. They keep telling you to run, chanting it like a curse, so you do. And something is behind you. It’s loud and fierce, and right there. And you’re too scared to crane your neck backwards to catch a glimpse of it. It never seems to get any closer or any further, as you keep running. The wall is there again, the one you have to climb. And it hurts to climb it, it’s too hot and too long and too slippery. Your hair plasters to your glistening neck, your clothes stiff and scratchy as you grab the stones that stick out on the wall. The stones are covered in ridges and holes, the crookedness making it a thousand times harder to get a hold of them. All your senses are sharpened yet everything is blurry and out of reach as you grab the stones in panic. But your hand slips right at the very top. Your feet are aching, and you watch in slow motion as your hand lets go of the last stone. Feel the rush of adrenaline spike as you fall down, down, down.

“Wake up!”

Din’s voice is desperate, even through the helmet's moderations you can vaguely hear it. He was just about to go to bed, and he heard you rustling on your thin mattress. Before he could consider anything you were screaming, loud and terrified. It echoed between the steel walls, and his heart immediately jumped in fear as he pressed the button to the door.

You are writhing on the floor, legs tangled in the blankets, chest heaving and hands grasping for nothing. His hands shake your shoulders roughly, but stops immediately when you open your eyes wide and alarmed, as you snap forward into a sitting position. You pull your knees up, looking like someone that’s just been punched in the gut. Your breaths are erratic between stuttering cries, and Din can barely recognize your otherwise so familiar sound.

“Hey” Din keeps repeating, trying to make you feel some sort of grounding. His hand is tight on your arm, the other one caressing your back as you feel your shirt rubbing your skin. “Just a bad dream” you hear him assure you. But sound dazes in and out, battling with your heartbeat and the rush of blood. You gulp loudly, your breath evening out slowly in the pitch black cargo room.

“Feel this?” His voice is a low rumble but calming, and you feel his hand press tighter to your back. You nod, still gasping as not to cry out again. “Focus on that” his hand keeps rubbing your back, rough but not uncomfortably, just enough for you to be unable to focus on much else. And you do as he says, following his commands blindly while still being half asleep. You focus on his hand. The feeling of the cloth against your back. The feeling of his thumb over your spine. You sit like that for a while. You can’t tell what’s what anymore, the silence and darkness warping time and dimension in your brain. What is the wall and what is the bed, what is you and what is him. But you can’t remember much after that. Din says something else, you can only hear the tone in his voice as something like worry or guilt, as your eyes become one with the darkness again.

…

You don’t wanna leave the storage. It’s too embarrassing considering what happened last night. You get ready, pulling the sheets neatly around your small mattress, sorting out your things. You do everything until you can't possibly procrastinate any longer. The light makes your brain hurt, eyes shutting from the dull ache of it. It’s much later than you thought, or maybe you’re just already on Nevarro. It seems like a sense of time is still missing in your mind.

You quickly find your first excuse of the day; The child. He isn’t asleep, you can hear his small coos, and spot two floppy ears swaying from side to side. “Hey chomp” you mutter, your voice stumbling over itself, being hoarse and weak. He makes the most adorable sound at the sight of you, and your hands envelop and embrace him tightly like you haven’t seen him in ages.

“Hungry?”

He shrieks excitedly at that word and you chuckle while roaming through the last bits of food. Before realizing it, you’re standing at the cockpit door again, your brain already working its new everyday routine. And it’s too late to turn around because a little green thumb presses the door open like it always does. “Thanks” you scowl and say through your teeth but the child just gives a high five to your side. Din turns around fast. So fast he might fall out of the chair, and your feet stutter to a halt at that. His shoulders immediately slouch when he sees you, turning slowly back to the view of blue and white lights. Not at Nevarro yet, then.

You glare at the back of his shiny helmet that reflects the colors in a whirlwind. He doesn’t move his head but he looks relaxed, not rigid like you’d think. The child coos once more and reaches with small grabby hands for the food “Yeah yeah give me a second chomp” you mutter, whispering almost in fear of your voice cracking or scaring him.

The food is a cream colored goo, and it doesn’t look particularly tasty but the little green womp rat eagerly swallows it down as you lead the spoon to his tiny mouth. “Did I forget to feed you or something?” You ask him, stroking his tiny soft hairs as you scrape the excess food on his face into his mouth. Din watches you carefully, his helmet tilted no more than needed to catch the sight. You’re completely oblivious of his presence, either because you’re tired or because the child is craving all your attention. That’s until Din says your name, softly this time, like you’d break if he said it too loud. You don’t reply, but he sees you straighten your back as a way of letting him know that you aren’t completely ignoring him.

“I’m,” he pauses, looking for the right words as his hand taps his thigh gently “sorry I got angry at you,” he stutters and goes silent for so long that you think he was done. You part your lips to reply but Din adds a tiny “it’s not your fault” before you’re able to. Your eyes narrow slightly, automatically cradling the child as he begins to sound bored. You can’t muster the way his helmet is observing every single movement you do, “I don’t need pity, Din. It’s okay.” Your voice is exhausted, and your eyes smile so gently that he wouldn't see it if he didn’t look so intensely at them right now. You still feel embarrassed of the way he caught you last night, and you’re trying your hardest to make it seem like nothing, assuring him that everything is okay even though it isn’t. But you can’t fool him, you’ve never been able to.

…

It’s night time again, and you’re only one day from Nevarro. Or so you think, you're in space so you have no way of telling but the day has felt endlessly long, so you decide to put an end to it. The white noise of hyperspace is still somewhere far off as you enter the cargo room. The air is cool despite being the very same for days. You gulp, hands smoothing up and down the side of your thighs as a way to calm yourself. Good thoughts. It’s just the Crest. The Child. Din Djarin. You. Nothing bad about that, quite the opposite actually.

Chanting that in your head, you lie down, feeling your back touch the floor through the thin mat. The only sound you can hear now is your own breathing, deep and shaky as your nails make little crescent moons into the skin of your thighs. You force yourself to shut your eyes, closing the galaxy off for a bit. It’ll be morning soon, is your last thought before giving yourself into the feeling of nothingness.

Din can’t stop thinking about it. How he had said that it bothered him that you were tired, when it clearly is much worse for you. He can’t stop thinking about the way your body shook as he held it, as your voice sounded so weak and estranged when he heard you or the way he held you till you fell asleep.

So he does the most rational thing his mind can muster, and sit outside your door. As simple as that; no further plan than sitting. His legs stretched out on the floor, his helmet leaning against the wall underneath the button to enter the room, his armor discarded and ungloved hands in his lap. Maybe it was that same protective thing that kicked in whenever anyone even looked at the child, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel just a little better, so he lets himself lull to sleep right there on the floor.

That’s until his head bangs against the wall, metal on metal making a piercing sound. You’re screaming again. Or sobbing. Or both. His hand fumbles above his head for the button, and he almost throws himself into the room even before the door opens. Once again his quick reflexes come in handy. You are sitting up again, hunched over with your hands fisting the sheets and your hair draping your face wildly. He reaches out for you, but you violently flinch back at the sudden touch of someone you can’t see.

“It’s me. It’s Din” he assures, his hand suspended mid air, eager to comfort. You want to tell him to leave, that it’s okay but your throat is dry again and you’re too vulnerable to hide the fact that a part of you wants him to stay. A soft touch on your shoulder, so fragile underneath his coarse skin. “Lay down” he whispers.

Din is trying to be intuitive. He’s never been in this situation before but he’s skilled at acting fast and keeping cool so it couldn’t go that bad, could it? The way he sees the pure fear in your dim eyes makes him lose that part of his brain slightly though. You once again do as he says, finding comfort in his deep rumbling voice as you lay down on the messed up sheets again, greeting the suffocating warmth. He closes the door, shielding the two of you from any harm. The ‘mattress’ is barely big enough for you, so he settles on the floor again, right next to you. He stares to the ceiling, listening to your breathing as his head lulls in exhaustion. You hear him sigh again, but this time it doesn’t sound disappointed, more like he was feeling genuinely sorry for you. Your breathing doesn’t calm down the way he hoped.

“Hey” his helmet scrapes the floor as he turns his visor to you. Your throat is bopping and straining no to let out anymore cries, your eyes blinking rapidly in the dark. His hand envelops yours, his electric skin colder than your own. He’s only in his undershirt and pants, stripped as vulnerable as you feel right now. Your hand trembles in his but he grasps it tighter, inducing you to follow as he places it on his chest, pressing down firmly. “Feel this?” He asks again, and the repetitive question makes you feel at ease again. And you nod, not sure if he can see it. But he very much can, and doesn’t let go for a second. You feel the thrumming of his heart, letting it surge through your entire being. It’s beating faster than it should, but still slower than yours. “Focus” he whispers with a voice you have never heard before, so defenseless and tender. You nod again, closing your eyes shut to feel it clearer in your warm palm. Dunk Dunk, Dunk Dunk. The same rhythm in a constant, so alive and so exposed. You forget everything around you. Everything other than Din, as he takes you under his wing, shielding you from the cruel galaxy. “I won’t leave, I promise”

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djarinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Mine

Author: Dina.

Word Count: 1862

Pairings: Frank (Endings, Beginnings) x female reader

Warnings: angst, feelings, fluff, slight smut, mentions of domestic violence

a/n 1: helloooooo lovelies! here’s a repost of a one-shot I wrote just after Endings Beginnings came out in April.

a/n 2: this story has been translated into Portuguese by @vanteguccir. read it on wattpad here!

You’re sat at a small two-person table, sipping your bottled water, when he slips into the seat opposite of you. You raise your head, not surprised that he’s known where to find you, single look at your deathly pale face tells him all he needs to know.

His fingers skim over the sapphire that adorns your left finger as he takes your hand in his and leads you out to his Dodge, opens the passenger door and watches in silence as you smoothly slide into the seat. You drive in silence, the air thick with thoughts and feelings that neither will ever voice.

So close yet so separate. Fallen leaves litter the drive and crunch underfoot as you walk to the front door.

It seems like only yesterday that you had last walked through the door into the home you had once shared, but in truth it has been over a year since your feet have last trod the well-known floor. You follow him into the living room and sinks into one end of the sofa.

The room hasn’t changed in the time that has passed, still warmly painted in shades of pale orange and yellow, he’d laughed at the colors you had chosen but had appreciated the effect as much as you had.

The lighting is dim adding to the air of warm sanctuary, in all your life you’ve never found anywhere you’ve found safer than wrapped in his strong embrace watching the fire dance in the fireplace.

He crosses to the drinks cabinet and without asking fixes your drink the same way he had many times before. He takes his vodka neat without ice; you take yours with lemonade with a dash of lime cordial.

You take the glass he offers and sips as he sits beside you, close enough that you could reach out and touch him, but still far enough away to be separate.

The heat from the fire is creeping around the room, seeping into your bones and easing the chill that surrounds your heart.

The gas flames licking over the simulated coals are reflected in your eyes. You place the glass on the floor and raises your head, feeling his eyes burning intensely into your neck. Your eyes met his and are caught and held by kyanite orbs, sapphire and every shade in-between.

"Do you want to tell me?"

It’s the first thing either of you has said. His voice is low and gravely with the same strong masculine edge that had entranced you from the first time you’d heard it, it seems so long ago now.

Your gaze drops and focuses on your hands, he slides close and raises your chin with an index finger the pad of his thumb running over the bruise that is already starting to form on your cheek, stroking the angry red mark.

A tremor runs through you as pain sears your flesh, but you can't bring yourself to turn away from his caress. Your eyes raise to his, the warmth swimming with unshed tears that are less to do with the pain in your body and more strongly related to the storm raging within your tormented psyche.

You think you must’ve wanted to tell him, for you find the words falling from your mouth.

You tell him of the demands your manager is making on you, the pressure you’re being put under to produce your fourth album, and fatigue of the constant touring and live performing.

Finely you tell him of the augments you have to go home to when you end up working late at the studio, arguments that would degenerate from verbal to physical and leave your body burning and bruised.

Tells him of the man you no longer stand to have touch you but cannot leave for fear of what he might do. When at last you wind down your feet are curled beneath you and you’re clutching a throw pillow to your chest.

His eyes, when you dare look at him, are dark seeming to have turned almost black by the mixture of fury, pain and desire that swirls in their kyanite depths.

He reaches out and after taking the pillow from your grasp, he pulls you close, he holds you gently as if you were a fragile porcelain doll, chipped and broken with a hairline crack running across your face.

You sit in silence for a long time, until your tears have dried to silky softness on your cheeks, the only sound the ticking of the clock calving eternity in to passing seconds.

"Thank you, Frank."

You whisper, unwinding your legs and making to stand. He takes your hand, his deep blue eyes still steady on your face, you offer him a won smile and kisses him lightly on the cheek.

Without hesitation he draws you in, before you can pull back, he’s returning your cheek kiss, then another, then his lips are sliding to your neck, your ear and finally your mouth.

You smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and forest, a scent you know as well as your own flesh and a million images burst in your brain. You feel the arms and chest you have known for years and that had once held only you.

You love making love with him, you always have.

From that first earthquake magic in an air-conditioned hotel room to the later years when it became slower, deeper, a melody you knew as well as that of your own soul.

Making love with Frank is all encompassing, pure sensation and total detachment. You need that now.

You need the familiar and comforting. The shattering of your consciousness and the stopping of time.

You think of trapped birds singing in cages, back hands stinging your skin, of loneliness and distance.

Then his hand slides to your breast and you think of nothing else.

In the flash of waking for a terrifying instant you don’t remember him, caught the limbo where dreams still cling to you, savior and tormentor are mixed and entwined.

But a moment later you recognize who he is, when he pulls you back towards him, strokes your hair, licks the shell of your ear and neck, then kisses your breasts and belly.

Finally, feeling him deep inside of you, you know he has made love to you many times before and dreads the thought of never feeling again in your entire life the way you feel with him.

All the while he is drinking you in, you feel yourself streaming down a corridor into a familiar place that is strange only because you’ve not visited there in so long a time.

Fear and euphoria crash and whirl together in a maelstrom that drives all reason from you as you become lost the force that is being loved by him.

No face reminiscent of any other, but the scents, the textures, the music were all carrying you across.

The room is a kingdom, the inside of a cup, the night pouring in tasting of mint. A flashback of a flashback: a swing and a child's foot, the space existed, in the same instant, in his fingers, in the air, in your toes, pressing like pebbles into his thighs. In the dark, you sense light.

When you wake next, you still lay entangled together, the blanket from the back of the couch has been pulled down to cover your bare bodies.

You lie atop him and looking down is mesmerized by the swallowing orbs the are intently watching you. For a moment you can’t place the sound that has awoken you until it comes again, the mechanical cheeping of your phone.

Your bag still sits propped against the side of the couch where you had placed it many hours before. Reaching for it you pull out the source of the disturbance, your eyes filling with distress as the name displayed on the screen registers with your still sleep addled brain.

Answering, you murmur a greeting and perhaps in some childish attempt to distance the voice on the other end of the line with the man lying beneath you, you sit up, the blanket rising with you. Your eyes fly wide and you bite down hard on your lip to keep a moan from escaping your throat, in rising so suddenly the angle of his penetration was abruptly changed sending a jot of pleasure through your body.

You turn your head and presses the phone close to your ear, yet still every word is carried to him in the still warm air. The tone is one of annoyance and is edged with steel; the words are barked questions that make his jaw clench in anger as he grinds his teeth together.

Your replies are stilted, and uncertainty fills your eyes making the dark pools seem deep enough to drown in. You turn your head further, unable to look at him while you lie to the disembodied voice, that demands of you in harsh and uncaring tones that split the air.

He feels his rage getting the better of him as he listens to the words that are dropping from your lips, you mumble down the phone that you’re fine and once again you have to bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

You look down at him, a single crystalline tear rolling down your cheek as your body shakes in the aftermath of the sudden pain. His eyes are not upon your face but upon his hand that is now stroking the vivid bruise that spreads across your ribs.

A bruise on which his fingers pressed a moment before, causing your stifled cry and confirming his suspicion of cracked ribs. Your free hand takes his, halting its movement, as your eyes silently beg him for something you too are unsure of.

"When are you coming home?"

The words are cold, the tone cruel and harsh, they carry clearly to him as you bite your already bleeding lip, the tears filling your eyes making them seem double their normal size.

He takes a deep breath and makes a split-second decision that he knows, no matter the outcome will change his life forever. Your hand is shaking as he gently takes the phone from you, eyes that could have read words painted on your soul never leaving your face.

"She is home."

Ending the call, he drops it to the floor, ignoring it when it almost instantly begins to ring again. Reaching out, he brushes the fallen tears from your face, watches as your expression changes from fear, to bewilderment, and then confusion is staring back at him from your face.

Wide eyes beg an unvoiced question, as you try to comprehend what is happening. He dips his head slightly in confirmation of what he knows you’re thinking and soft smile tugs at the edge of his mouth.

He caresses your face once more before pulling you down to him and gently kisses your lips tasting the salt of your tears in the corners of your mouth as he deftly guides your body into a better position.

A single, possessive thought runs through his mind.

Mine.

Permanent taglist: @what-is-your-wish

add yourself to my taglist here

#frank #endings beginnings #sebastian stan imagine #frank x reader #frank x you

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one-boring-person · 4 years

Text

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part Six)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, alcohol use

Context: still reeling after the events a few hours before, (Y/n) quickly comes up with a plan to deal with what has happened.

A/N: I hope this part was worth the wait! 💛💛

Masterlist

The whiskey burns my throat as I toss it down, face screwing up at the harsh taste, already feeling slightly buzzed as the alcohol goes straight to my head, my head feeling lighter, though I know it will get heavier in a second. Around me, the room is dark and cold, my belongings thrown all over the floor from my previous fit of rage and grief, glasses smashed and furniture broken, my fists and fingers bloodied and grazed, the skin missing on nearly all of them, winces falling from my lips every time I flex my fingers slightly, the joints painful and sore. In my head I can already feel the fog setting in, though it does nothing to block out the repeating images flashing through it, the scream playing like a constant whine in the back of my mind, the spurts of blood still vivid in each memory.

Screwing my eyes closed, I grip the glass tightly in my hand, muscles tensing as I try to rid myself of the flashbacks, only succeeding in making them worse, a pounding headache setting in as a result of my dogged attempts to clear my mind. In my hand, the tumbler shatters suddenly, the shards digging into the skin of my palm as my fist automatically closes around them, blood spilling onto the table as I do so, the pain going mostly unnoticed. Slowly, I pull apart my fingers, inspecting the damage hesitantly, the sight of the blood only reminding me of the crimson liquid pooling around the body of my friend, his ragged breaths forcing more and more of the stuff past his lips. Gritting my teeth, I push this image aside and stand, going to the bucket of water in the corner, washing the wounds out as best I can, before grabbing my tweezers and proceeding to pull the splinters of glass from the soft skin.

Taking my time to prolong the pain, I slowly form a small pile of the bloodied glass, swiftly cleaning the cuts again and bandaging them, wrapping the white fabric tightly over my skin so as to stop the bleeding. Once done, I grab the bottle of whiskey from the table and take a deep drink from it, enjoying how the burning in my throat takes away from the stinging in my palm. I collapse onto my bed, the bottle held in one hand so that I can eye the liquid inside, trying to ignore the flashes of images running through my mind, particularly those of the familiar, trusting blue eyes widening in pain and surprise, this picture almost always accompanied by another playback of the scream.

As soon as I'd pulled the trigger, I'd staggered backwards, shocked at my own actions as I watched my friend fall to the floor, three pairs of hands instantly on me, pulling me away from the scene, fangs and yellow eyes coming I to view as the boys emerged from the shadows to exact their revenge, only to turn their eyes back to the body lying a little way away when they manage to properly discern the moans of pain. Numb, I'd stumbled forwards until I was standing over the gasping form, watching in horror as the blood curled from behind his pristine teeth and out over his pale skin, his blue eyes fixed on mine in a hurt stare, betrayal and disbelief clouding them. I'd knelt to help him, but he cursed me and waved me off, his gaze slowly darkening as his conscience faded out, his actions and movements less coordinated and precise, all of the tenseness going from his limbs as he collapsed onto the sand, eyelids falling closed. Tears had fallen freely as I lifted him, or tried to lift him, not stopping until I'd gotten him safely to a hospital, where I'd said goodbye to ever having a normal friendship with Elijah again, though I knew this had been the case as soon as I shot him.

Thinking this over, I now realise that makes me a traitor, an enemy, of the SRS, and so the top of the human hitlist. Consisting with supernatural creatures already puts me on this list, but shooting and potentially killing another Soldier boosts me right up to the top. Idly, I try to think about where I could go, knowing that Santa Carla is no longer safe for me - I'm a walking corpse in their eyes.

Coming up blank, I decide just to get on a train and go wherever it takes me, planning to go as soon as I can, though I know I should go and speak to the vampires I call my friends, knowing they'll want to know my plans. They deserve an apology, too.

I heave myself from my bed, staggering over to the rucksack I use for carrying my belongings around, locating all of my most valuable possessions and throwing them in, attaching all of my weapons to my belt, before taking up my coat, deciding that it might help in getting me favours around the country. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I take one last look at the interior of the shack and head out, feeling slightly saddened at the prospect of leaving it behind, having come to love the small area after so long of living in it. Biting my lip, I try to ignore the longing feeling in me, beginning the trek to the sunken hotel, where I know the boys will be tending to Paul, who was pretty shaken up by what happened.

It takes a good half an hour for me to do it tonight, my coordination slightly put off by the alcohol in my system, meaning I stumble over sticks and stones frequently, my attention elsewhere as I try to think up a solid plan. When I do finally reach the cliff top, it takes everything in me to keep myself safe on the rickety stairs down, my head spinning slightly at the change in altitude, as well as the concentration taken to keep myself upright. I don't enter immediately, hoping they will notice me before I have to make myself known, only to then step into the view of the interior as nothing happens.

From my position, I can see the four of them gathered around a sofa, Paul sat on it with Marko to his left, Dwayne standing over David's shoulder as the latter sits on his wheelchair, none of them looking up from their conversation until I've cleared my throat, announcing my arrival. As Paul's eyes fix with mine, I do my best not to let the guilt show too much, but it is nigh on impossible, the sight of his blue irises only stirring painful memories up inside me. The others instantly stand to form a line in front of him, glowering at me as I look down at my feet.

"What do you want, (Y/n)? Come to finish your job?" David snarls across the room, still under the impression that I accidentally missed Paul, though I did no such thing.

"No, I came to tell you that I'm leaving, and that I wanted to say goodbye before I'm killed by the people who brought me up." I clarify, before I turn to go again, sighing to myself.

"Wait! What do you mean "killed by the people who brought you up"?" Dwayne's voice stops me in my tracks.

Slowly, I turn around.

"I purposefully shot an officer, Dwayne. That makes me a traitor, and therefore a danger. They'll probably kill me before the end of the week if I stay here."

"Kill you? Why?" Marko chips in.

In way of reply, I recite the SRS' oldest motto:

"Only traitors consort with the damned. As far as they're concerned, I'm no longer a Hunter, so I have no real purpose left for them."

Part Seven

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

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throwaway3844893 · 4 years

Text

Imagine: Katniss and Peeta struggle with memories of the rebellion and the thought of having children. Set 15 years after Mockingjay and from Katniss’ point of view.

Note: I wrote this almost four years ago, so it’s pretty choppy and out of character. I decided to post it anyway!

There are nights where I wake up and not even Peeta can calm my screams. Those nights are the worst of all. But, it takes more of an emotional toll on him, though, the thought that even he can't cure my misery. The problem is, I can't tell him what I dream about. Or I'll risk breaking his heart.

Last night was one of those nights.

My throat is hoarse as I step out of bed, careful not to wake Peeta. I chug a glass of water I leave on my bedside table every night, but my throat still aches.

My covered feet patter down the stars, and I tiptoe quietly into the small kitchen. I pop a toaster waffle into the toaster and prepare myself another glass of water. The chilly air of the refrigerator makes my hairs stand on end as I grab the maple syrup, but I warm up as soon as I close it. Beeping sounds come from the black microwave as I set the time for the syrup to heat up.

I move to open the white-trimmed window, and hear the songs the birds sing in the morning. Warm air filters in through the screen with a light breeze.

My waffle pops out of the toaster and I grab it while it's still hot, and cut it into six individual pieces. I then drown it in syrup, chewing slowly to savor the taste.

When I finish eating, I put my plate into the white sink and tighten my olive green robe. I turn around and gasp as I see Peeta standing at the archway, and he is fully dressed already. I try to ignore the redness under his eyes

"Good Morning," I say cheerfully, smiling at him. I walk towards him and he just stares at me with this blank look. Funny.

I snake my arms around his waist and look at his blue orbs. They gleam like a child's who's played too many video games in a day. And that seems very off.

"Are you okay?" I ask, resting my head in the spot where his heart beats. I feel as his chest rises then sinks as he takes deep breaths. Suddenly, the motion reminds me of the time he almost died in the arena, where Finnick saved his life. The thought of Finnick reminds me of his death. I grip Peeta's shirt, forcing the memories away.

I look up, and see his eyes turning dark. Like they always do when he has a flashback.

I let go of his shirt and take a step back cautiously. He looks up at me, half hijacked, half him, but the real him is falling before my eyes, no longer fighting the mutt inside him.

"I'm a..." he mutters quietly, looking down at his hands, then up at me again. A face of confusion stares back at me, and I have nothing to do.

"I'm a mutt," he says, a look of anger growing in his eyes. I take a few more steps back, but my back hits the corner. If he goes full-out, I'm screwed. The door is all the way to the left, and if I bolt he will run out and we can't have civilians at risk.

"I'm a mutt," he cries again, louder, "I'm a mutt, I'm a mutt! I'm a mutt! I'm a mutt!" He yells, walking towards me at an increasingly fast pace. His hand shakes as he picks up the glass of water I took downstairs, and it shatters into a million pieces next to me as it launches across the room.

"You're not a mutt!" I yell, as he starts walking even faster towards me. The fear grows in me when he's only three feet away and I can see the absolute blackness of his eyes.

"Peeta, you're not a mutt, I promise, you're the boy I love. Please, you're not a-"

He shoves me back into the counter, and I cry out in surprise. He grabs me by the hair and brings my face to his.

"You made me a mutt! It's your fault, my family is dead because of you!" He screams, his fist connecting with my eye. I yell out, and my hands reach to cradle the spot he punched.I manage to break free of his grip and grab onto his arms, struggling to hold on.

"You're not a mutt! You're Peeta Mellark, you're not a mutt!" My voice breaks at "Mellark," and he seems to calm down a small bit.

"You're a baker, a painter, you always double knot your shoelaces, you sleep with the window open, no matter how hot or cold it is," I whisper into his ears.

He manages to sink down to the floor and just starts muttering about how he's a mutt.

"Peeta," I cry, "you're not a mutt."

He doesn't look up, he just puts his hands to his ears and starts rocking, the same words repeating over and over.

I sink down next to him, grabbing one of his hands. My eye throbs violently and aches where he punched me, but my only focus is getting him back.

"I'm a mutt, I'm a mutt..." he says, his voice slowing at every word.

"Shh," I say, cautiously bringing my free hand to his hair, stroking it as he rocks. "You're not a mutt."

When the worst of it passes, and I know he's coming back, I stand up and walk to the bathroom. When I look in the mirror, my eye looks terrible. It's bright red and swelling, and there is a small cut where his knuckles touched right below my eyebrow. Makeup won't cover this up. Meaning he'll have to see what he did. That's not what I want. I don't want him to know he hurt me, however much he did.

As I'm gently patting my eye with a wet wash cloth, the door bursts open. The action is so sudden I drop the wash cloth to the floor. It hits my foot and makes me uncomfortable but I'm frozen.

Peeta rushes in, and I can see in his eyes he's him again. I quickly look down, hiding the right side of my face from his. But I can't hide forever.

I blink a long blink, wincing a bit as I do so, since my eye feels like it's on fire. His feet make loud noises as he walks up to me, until the small rustle of the shag rug I'm standing in silences his steps.

"Katniss, are you okay?" He asks, taking another step towards me. I move my head, opening a white drawer and pretending to be busy looking for something.

"Moderately," I say, and as I feel his hand touch the exact spot where my back hit the counter I tense up. "F..." I whisper quietly, not wanting to say the full word.

Taking notice of my tenseness, he moves his hand to my shoulder. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, a little less convincing. And I'm a terrible liar. Sometimes I wish I had his skills at painting and lying. Both would be handy at this point.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're okay."

Now I've really blown it. Peeta's going to know either way. Slowly, achingly slow, I turn to look at him. My eye throbs as I meet his eyes.

A look of guilt floods his face when his eyes meet mine. They slip towards the wound he gave me during a flashback.

"You said you were fine," he says angrily through gritted teeth, his fists clenching together.

"I am fine," but my voice is small, like a child's. And as if the world was against me, a shooting pain goes through my back as I lean, making me wince very noticeably.

"Your eye isn't okay. Your back isn't okay, what else isn't okay? What else did I do to you, Katniss?" He's in tears now, fighting down cries as he realizes what "he" did to me.

"Peeta, it wasn't you, it was Snow, it was all Snow, but he's dead now, we're safe, I promise you I'm okay," I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"No," he yells, shoving me off him.

"Peeta-"

"I can't do this anymore. I can't keep waking up to you in so much pain and not being able to help you. That hurts me, Katniss, and it makes me feel so guilty because I know you're dreaming about me when I'm having a flashback, and you dream about me killing everyone you love. And... and I just can't live with that. I can't live like this. Not knowing after a flashback if I hurt you or not," he says, looking at me with the ultimate guilt and hurt in his eyes. My hand rests on the marble counter top, and I grip it hard for support.

I never realized I hurt him this bad when I wouldn't let him comfort me.

"I..." I stutter, my voice low and quiet, "I never realized that... that it affected you so much. I'm so sorry, Peeta, I really am. I just..." I don't know what to say. There are so many things he needs to know, that he needs to be told about how I feel, but how am I supposed to bring those problems up when they don't even relate to this situation?

"Katniss, are you not telling me something?"

I let go of the counter, sliding down until my bottom hits the shaggy rug underneath my feet. Peeta kneels down beside me, looking at my face in a concerned way. I look down, not meeting his eyes.

"I don't dream about you having flashbacks. I don't dream about you killing people. I dream about..." a lump starts to form in my throats, the guilt setting in. This will crush him if I say it, because this is the one thing he's hoped for, and asked for, in the fourteen years we've been married.

"What is it that you dream about, Katniss?" His warm hands reach mine, and he holds both in his lap. The white rug's soft spirals are the only thing I look at. I will myself to look up, and the look in his bright blue orbs completely breaks me. It's as if my heart shattered in my chest. I know, I know, if I tell him he will feel the same way, only ten times worse.

The dreams are so vivid. Him, sitting in the meadow behind our house, laughing as he watches our daughter dance and run, her long, dark hair trailing in a braid that mimics mine. Her blue eyes shining with happiness as she plays. Our son, only three years younger than her, his small and chubby legs struggling to chase his sister. His blonde hair shines in the sun, and he is a replica of his father except for my gray seam eyes. And then me, sitting on a small blanket next to Peeta, watching them as he does. Our hands are intertwined, and my head is leaning on his shoulder, covered in a white shirt that buttons up three times at the top. I look at his prosthetic leg, and it reminds me of what we have overcome. We have beaten this world, and now we can enjoy peace.

The girl with the brown hair leaves her brother and comes up to me. All that fills my sight is her beautiful face, her eyes so innocent, burning into mine with wonder and curiosity. As I stare into her, or Peeta's, eyes, she begins to speak.

"Mommy, what do you know about the Hunger Games?"

That's when I wake up. Those are the nights Peeta can't help me. Every time, the same dream. The same fear that consumes my entire being.

"Peeta... I dream about us. Our future."

"Our future? What's bad about that?" He asks, real worry in his voice. A finger gently strokes my cheek, wiping a tear away.

"It's not... it's... Peeta god damn it, I know this is going to break your heart and I just can't say it," I sob, the blue eyes of our hypothetical daughter burning into my brain, filling my entire mind with "Mommy, what do you know about the Hunger Games?" Echoing throughout my head, engulfing me with her voice.

I finally crack. "I dream about kids! Our kids, the one you've been asking and asking for ever since before we were married. That's why you can't help me, because it breaks my heart knowing I'm breaking you're heart in the process. I dream about how beautiful they are, how happy we are, but then she comes up to me every time and asks me about the Games and I just cannot have that!"

He doesn't even try to hide the hurt and disappointment in his voice, "You don't want kids."

He's crying now. It makes me feel like the single worst person on this planet. I made my true love's heart shatter. I look down at my hands, ashamed, and start picking at the rug.

"I-I should've told you before, I just didn't know how because you were so hopeful and you want them so, so badly."

"If you didn't want them, why wouldn't you just tell me from the start? Why did you have to put me through all of this and get my hopes up?" Peeta yells, snot dripping out of his nose. His voice is cracking, like his whole world was just destroyed.

Maybe it was.

"I didn't know. It's not that I don't want them, Peeta, it's the fact that they're going to have to learn about the world we lived in, about the Hunger Games, and I can't have that. I want kids, so, so badly but I just don't know if I could do it. I'm sorry."

He just shakes his head, and hot tears drop into his hands, and the cheeks that have always been so soft are a bright red.

"Peeta, you're the love of my life and seeing you like this... if this is what my decision is causing you to feel, I'll have children," I whisper, putting my hand on his shoulder, and I realize he is wearing the shirt he wears in my dreams.

I think about it. I want kids, I've always wanted kids ever since I was a kid. I just didn't want to bring them into a world where the Hunger Games existed. That world doesn't exist anymore. I live in the New Panem, where everywhere is even. There are no Hunger Games or President Snows. There's only dandelions in the spring that bloom in the meadow and beautiful leaves in the fall that illuminate the forest behind. Yes, they will have to learn about our past. They will have to learn about how Katniss Everdeen, at age 16, competed in a fight to death and started a war. About how their father was captured and tortured to the point where he only remembered the things Snow lied about to him. They'll see the scars on us, they'll hear the scars left on us as we hold each other or scream from the nightmares that have plagued us for years. But they won't feel the pain Peeta and I felt. They'll feel the joy of love and peace.

#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #peeniss #the hunger games #mockingjay #after mockingjay #ooc #imagine

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darth-salem-emperor-of-earth · 4 years

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Here is my second entry for @naruto-fantasy-week! Just like with my previous fanfic for Day One, I realized I had a lot of potential and ideas to explore with this prompt and story idea so one day, I’ll come back to this fic and expand on the premise even further. But man, I wish I was faster at writing and had more time to chug out the rest of my fanfics because I am running out of time and have five more to go. Let’s see if I can get them all done in time. XD

The title of this story derives from both the chorus lyrics and the song title “Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend” by Powerwolf. I did scanned this fic for edits but I probably missed some errors.

Summary: Demons, monsters, they’re all the same when you live in a small, rural village always plagued with beasts, curses, and battles between magical creatures. Never in her life did Sakura expect to get pulled into the world of demons, thanks to the curiosity of a fox and tanuki demon. Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 2. Prompt: Monstrous. [Gaara x Sakura, Naruto x Sakura]

Text:

Flashback

Thoughts

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“You have always wanted to caress every monster.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche

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There was a good reason why her village established a curfew at night and on certain days of the year they warned the locals not to venture away from the outskirts of the hamlet and wander into the damp, murky woods that hugged near the village’s perimeter, acting like an imposing wall to another world. Monsters, demons, they claimed, laid on the prowl, waiting for the chance to snatch up an unsuspecting, unfortunate soul who strayed too far from the village and wandered into the clustered, dark forest. Their warnings and cause for concern were not groundless, for people did mysteriously vanish or when traveling to another neighboring town, didn’t leave in time to make it before dusk settled and never returned home. Bandits was the common explanation but there had been cases reported by witnesses, stating they saw humanoid beings with claws, fangs, and animals ears and tails. Demons walked among mankind and they were always looking to steal some away and never bring them back.

Sakura had all these warnings and stories whirling in her brain as she sprinted through the winding, twisted path that would eventually lead her out of the dismal, haunting forest and back to the open fields of her helmet, where she’d surely be safe. She took a calculated risk in coming into the woods to scavenge for plants and herbs but a rare moss grew in these parts abundantly and her shishou needed them to treat the villagers. After a month of braving the secluded, verboten forest with no trouble, now, of all days, when their supply was running out thanks to a fever crippling the younger, more able-bodied folk with dizziness, hallucinations, extreme sweats, and lack of strength, she was spotted and now pursued by two demons. One fox demon and the other, a tanuki demon.

Sakura leapt over a gnarled tree root, gripping her basket firmly to prevent the contents from spilling out and making her covert trek to the woods all for naught. She refused to look behind her. Looking back would slow her down and speed was critical if she was going to survive this frightful encounter.

“Hey, hey you! Why are you running away from me?”

They’re just taunting me! They can’t know where I am!

Ducking underneath a branch, Sakura continued to race, increasing her pace even though her legs ached and her lungs heaved as if her whole chest was on fire. The sun was no longer peeking through the dense canopy and by now, she could hardly see what was in front of her. She had to be close to the outskirts of her town soon--she couldn’t be going in circles...was she?

That worrisome musing distracted Sakura momentarily from her mission, her feet still in motion but her eyes and mind were frozen in the sudden trepidation that in her fear of being spotted by some demons, she took a wrong turn and was horribly lost in these forsaken woods. She forgot to check her feet or look down at the ground, for a nearby tree branch snagged on the hem of her apron, startling her so badly her whole body twisted around from the shocking impact, one hand grasping her apron to tug it free. In doing so, Sakura failed to notice the enormous, thick tree root behind her and subsequently tripped backwards, the basket of herbs flying out of her grasp. Her collision with the bumpy, hard ground was agonizing and endless, her head throbbing and pounding like a hammer on the anvil and she tasted blood in her mouth. The back of her head felt wet and something sharp and jagged was jabbed up against her back. She tried wiggling her fingers and toes but was only greeted with a numbing sensation. Darkness swirled in her vision. She inhaled deep and instantly regretted it, her chest constricting and screeching at her to stop breathing while she hacked up some blood. As an apprentice to a knowledgeable, highly skilled and competent village doctor, Sakura deduced she was in horrible shape and if she didn’t get help soon, she would die.

I’m a dead woman either way. I’ll either bleed out or those two demons chasing me will finish the job.

Tears prick her eyelids and stubbornly, Sakura blinked them back, closing her eyes to alleviate herself from the vertigo that plagued her vision and head. Her trip wasn’t supposed to end like this, with her dying, alone and in pain, while her shishou anxiously waiting for her return with the herbs. She failed her mentor and everyone from her village. How long would it take for them to be courageous enough to explore the forest and discover her body? Or would the earth claim her corpse first?

“Please,” she croaked, ignoring the pain that came with every hagged breath. Tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked, her waning willpower couldn’t restrain them anymore. “Please, someone...help me. Save...my village. I’ll… I’ll do anything!”

A torrent of coughing prevented her from continuing, eyes clamped shut. But in the midst of her excruciating hacking, Sakura swore she heard a feminine, sinister but twinkling cackle. But given the amount of blood she had already lost and sustained a severe head injury, she had to imagine the foreboding noise. Yet the laughter, hallucinated or not, echoed in her head as her head lolled to its side, weariness reaching every part of her, as if a burdensome, cool pall coiled itself around her and held her tautly in its grasp.

“Sleep,” rang a voice that was not her own in her head. “Sleep, and let the two demons claim you. They will save you.”

Despite the pain, Sakura snorted but didn’t argue with the voice in her mind. After all, she was going to die so why waste her energy debating with herself?

“Sleep!” the unknown voice commanded again, this time sounding impatient and irked. Sakura’s consciousness slipped from her control and the last thought she had was this was finally the end and she only hoped someone from the village would at least find her basket and bring the plants back to her mentor to treat her ailing patients.

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When the relentless round of bickering reached Sakura’s ears as she slowly woke up, she thought she was back home, in bed, and the near-death experience she underwent in the demon woods was simply a vivid nightmare. Yet as she fought off the grogginess and slowly opened her eyes, the hope swelling within her crashed almost instantly with such a raging crescendo at the sight of the fox and tanuki demon arguing with each other. They were loud enough that she didn’t have to strain her ears to hear them.

“What do you mean, ‘your territory’? She was wandering on my land when I found her!” growled the fox demon, spiky blonde hair momentarily distracting Sakura with his outburst as he shook his head vigorously. His azuline eyes flashed with rage, pulling his lips back to reveal a sharp set of canine teeth.

No emotion registered on the tanuki demon’s pale visage or his aqua eyes, his scarlet hair remaining Sakura painfully of her own blood that she was hacking up not long ago. She felt sore, true, but nothing as horrible as the agony wracking her body when she lied motionlessly, in the woods that evening. Had these two demons healed her fatal injuries?

There was no one else but them who could have reached me in time. But how did they save me? And more importantly, why?

As she pondered these puzzling inquiries, Sakura carefully listened on to the demons’ bickering. Their argument involved her but for what?

The ruby haired tanuki demon sneered at the blond fox demon. Dismissal was the only impression marked on his features now. “Since when did your territory cross over into mine? The once mortal was gathering in my domain and therefore, she will be a part of my clan.”

Clan? Is that what they are yelling to each other about? Whose territory they found me in?

At least they didn’t plan on devouring her. After all, why go through all the trouble of healing and patching up your prey if your own goal was to eat it?

The golden haired demon’s ears twitched irately and the fox demon crossed his arms. His long, fluffy, gilded tail curled around the side of his left leg, looking so soft despite the anger charging through its owner. “Then why don’t we ask her ourselves?! I bet she’d rather stay with me than you, Gaara!”

Sakura froze as the tanuki demon–Gaara was his name–turned his attention towards her, teal eyes narrowing at her huddled form. Like Naruto, he too had ears and a tail, but his ears were more round and the tail shorter but seemed firmer. The fur on both the tanuki demon’s ears and tail was a tawny hue, with faint patches of black along the tail.

“Finally, a good idea on your end, Naruto. The once mortal is awake now.”

The mood on Naruto’s face immediately shifted to one of curiosity and excitement and he immediately dashed up to her before kneeling down by her feet. Up close, he had what seemed to be whiskers but they were flat across his cheeks and had the appearance of facial markings or tattoos. From his enthusiasm to the wide beam he was delivering her, this fox demon reminded Sakura more of a loving hound than a dangerous creature. Could she have been mistaken to believe they wanted to hurt her, or at least, this one? The chase could have been one giant misunderstanding–after all, they were talking about her in their domain so perhaps that’s why they were following her after she ran away? To warn her not to trespass into their territory again?

“I’m so happy to see you’re awake! My name is Naruto!” he introduced instantly, his tail brushing up against her leg. Its fur was just as downy as she imagined.

“I’m Sakura,” she answered, her throat dry as she rasped out her name. She turned to look at Gaara, who was busy boring a hole in the back of Naruto’s head with a venomous glower. “And your name is Gaara, right?”

The said demon jerked his head up and immediately pinned his uncompromising scrutiny on her. “You were listening to our conversation.” His words were a statement, not a question.

She nodded her head, figuring there was no point in lying. “Yes, but I would hardly call that a conversation. More like a heated argument.” She leaned forward, feeling some of her muscles groaning out in protest but at least she could feel her legs, hands, feet, and arms and every other limb attached to her. “But before I forget, thank you for saving me in the forest. I was critically wounded and thought I was going to die. But you two spared me and mended my body to practically brand new. I cannot thank you enough. She moved to get on her hands and knees to give them a proper bow, to demonstrate her thanks to such powerful beings but Naruto zapped his hands out to halt her movements. Bright sapphire eyes looked at her with concern and alarm.

“No, don’t move, Sakura-chan!” he pleased. “You still need to rest. It will take some time to adjust to your new body and—”

All warmth drained from her at his last few words, every part of her stiffening at his admission. Dread pooled in her stomach, seizing her by her throat and she recoiled from him, landing back on her rear. “What did you say?!” She nearly shrieked out, frantically glancing down at her hands and legs but seeing nothing different or out of place. Was the change elsewhere, like on her face or head? “‘New body’? What the hell does that mean?!”

Gaara hissed. Naruto’s eyes widened in horror at his slip.

“Uh, I didn’t mean that! I misspoke! What I actually meant to say was that your completely normal human body is fine and you don’t have to worry about it except for resting up and not overexerting yourself.” he quickly amended. He shot her an assuring her grin but soon dropped it after she narrowed her verdant eyes at him.

Gaara rolled his eyes at Naruto’s pitiable attempt to cover up his error. The damage had been down and now, the once mortal called Sakura would be panicking now. “Forget it, Naruto. She has to be told. Before she does something stupid, like run off and crash into a bunch of humans and scare them.” Now he was glaring at her, daring her to prove him wrong.

She cut him a fulminating glower of her own, refusing to be cowed or scared by the likes of him, even if he was a demon. By now, her fear of demons and what they could execute on humans had long since passed. “Tell me what?”

Naruto fidgeted uncomfortably prior to producing a hand mirror the size of a large mixing bowl and presented the item to her almost apologetically. “It’s easier for you to see than for us to explain to you. But Sakura...you have to understand, we had no choice. You were dying and this was the only method to save you.”

Her hands nearly trembled as she accepted the mirror but her grip on the hard, curved edges remained strong. As she steadily tilted the mirror’s surface to reflect her visage, her fingers dug anxiously into the metallic, intricate frame until her knuckles were pale as cream, refusing to let go as Sakura came face-to-face with the monster in the mirror.

Brilliant garnet, gold, emerald, and topaz feathers stuck out along her wide forehead like a crown, skimmed the bridge of her nose before disappearing completely. The same array of feathers poked out in tufts behind her short, pink hair, no doubt coming out from the upper section of her back. These same luxurious feathers coated at least half of her arms and when Sakura tried to shift around to see how far those feathers went, she caught one of her motionless wings out of the corner of her eye.

For Kami’s sake, I have wings now?!

Still unable to speak, Sakura reached out behind her and felt her fingertips brush up against the bend of her wing, the texture of the feathers firm, smooth, and silky soft. A little tingle jolted up her spine as she continued to touch or stroke her wings and reluctantly, she stopped. Wings were more sensitive than she realized.

“Sakura?” Naruto’s tentative, worried tone brought the said young woman out of her trance-like observation. His bright blue eyes looked utterly wretched and pleaful as their gazes crossed again that Sakura couldn’t find it in her heart to be so angry at him, even if this transmogrify changed her life forever, in a way she never expected nor was prepared for.

“Was my condition really that severe?” she asked quietly, first looking at him and then Gaara for confirmation. While Gaara tilted his head to the side and barely nodded, Naruto’s head bobbed up and down rigorously like an unstoppable ball.

“There was so much blood that Gaara had to be away from you at first--blood kind of excites him, you see,” Naruto quickly explained, unaware of Gaara scowling darkly at him or Sakura’s eyebrows rising high at this new information about one of her rescuers. “But he calmed down once I tried to heal your injuries or wake you up, but you were unresponsive. I think you might have broken a couple of bones but I couldn’t tell.”

“What we could tell was that your soul was faint and fading fast,” Gaara interjected, brushing past Naruto to take a seat next to Sakura. His tawny tail brushed up against her wings and Sakura suppressed an involuntary flutter that spread across her shoulders. “Naruto felt guilty that our chase led you to your demise and wanted to save your life by turning you into a demon, one of us.”

“What about you?” Sakura found herself asking, leveling her eyes with his, unafraid to confront and meet his seemingly intense scrutiny. Up close, she noticed black rings outlined his upper and lower eyelids, making him seem less imposing and more...cute?

Focus, Sakura! Now is not the time to be thinking like that!

“I agreed to help Naruto only to stop his blubbering,” he answered curtly, ignoring Naruto bristling and squawking with outrage at his blunt remark. He paused, cocking his head at her as if she suddenly became a fascinating creature to him. “But I must admit, I was rather curious to find a dying mortal being cradled by the branches and roots of the forest.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped at the last part of his admission. “Wait, what are you talking about? Before I passed out, I certainly didn’t see any trees coming to support me. Yes, it was getting dark out and yet—”

Yet she did hear a strange voice in her ears, echoing all over the forest while she was slowly dying but simply chalked the noise up to hallucination due to her blood loss. Perhaps she didn’t imagine those words at all and there was really a spirit of the woods watching over her.

Her realization must have dawned evidently on her face for Gaara sensed it immediately and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yet what? What do you remember?” he demanded.

This time, Naruto was the one sending him a glare. “Calm down, Gaara! She just had a near death experience and has to adjust to being a demon now. Give her a break, will you?” Growling, Gaara turned his furiously at him and the two demons were about to dissolve into another snarling, bickering match if Sakura didn’t speak up.

“I heard a voice, while I was bleeding out.” Both their heads snapped back to her, completely focused on her and her alone. “I can’t remember everything but the woman or whoever the voice came from, told me to sleep a couple of times. And for me to let you two save me, I think.” Eyelids now closed shut, Sakura wracked her brain to think back on those terrifying moments, where she was battling to stay awake and in vain attempting to move when the voice first came to her. The voice definitely wanted her to not be awake when Naruto and Gaara found her but why? Was it because she needed rest for her injuries and the impending transformation and the spirit sensed that? If that random theory was true, then why would a spirit of the forest care about her?

Gaara and Naruto exchanged pensive looks. “That does sound like something Kaguya would do,” the fox demon pointed out, donning a wary expression. “I know she’s supposedly dead and all but maybe her spirit does live on in the trees of that forest. The Tadasu no Mori was known to be her favorite resting place.”

Unlike Naruto, Gaara’s visage was unreadable. “It’s possible. And when she was alive, she was known to transform human mortals into demons.”

Not wanting to be left in the dark about the spirit or woman who had some contribution in saving her life, Sakura chimed in, “Who is Kaguya? Was she a demon like you?”

Both of the demons nodded, their expressions completely somber. “She was one of the oldest of our kind but as the years dragged on, she became bitter towards both humans and demons alike and sought to bring about the destruction of this world and begin anew with her chosen few.”

Shocked, Sakura could only stare at them and nodded silently, wondering how her village and people elsewhere never learned about such a catastrophe. Humans had stories and warnings about demons but nothing about a tale regarding an embittered demoness who craved to incite the end of the world and start a new one. Naruto’s face softened as he continued.

“There was a long, bloody war between Kaguya and her allies versus those who opposed her. The humans that did get sucked into this conflict either perished or died soon after before they could pass along their memories of the war and fighting alongside demons as friends.”

“That or no one believed them and ruled their words as ‘outlandish tall tales’,” Gaara cut in sardonically. “But that’s besides the point. Kaguya was eventually slain in battle, her supporters either dead or capitulated. Her corpse was destroyed, the ashes scattered in Tadasu no Mori. If she is the voice you heard, then we’ll have to be more careful.”

Despite her head swimming with news that there had been a dangerous, secret war between demons and to an extent, humans, Sakura frowned at the cautious tone in Gaara’s voice. “‘We’?” she echoed. “Why do we need to be careful? Kaguya is dead and long gone now. Even if her spirit was with me in those woods, she couldn’t hurt us, could she?”

“No, but she still has loyal allies waiting in the shadows that survived the aftermath. Some have tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to revive her while others assay to continue what she started. And they would be quite intrigued with a human girl who was changed into a demon, a phoenix demon no less. Our whole kind would be. There hasn’t been a phoenix demon nor metamorphosis like yours in centuries.”

“But don’t worry!” Naruto chimed in cheerily, hoping to alleviate Sakura’s trepidation of how interested other demons would be in her. “Gaara and I will protect you! If you stay with us and our two clans, no demon can come along and snatch you up without starting a territory dispute. We can even show you how to use and train your powers as a demon!”

That offer definitely had merit and would certainly come in handy in this new world of demons and their own brand of politics and schemes. As touched as she was with Naruto’s vow of protection, she wanted to be able to better defend herself and learn what she was capable of in this new demon body of hers. The wings and feathers would still take some time to get used to.

“Weren’t you two arguing earlier about who I get to stay with though? Why the change of heart?” she said, a teasing edge in her voice.

Naruto’s cheeks flushed a vibrant vermilion, embarrassed as he sputtered and then mumbled up some excuses about ‘the strength of two is better than one’ and that ‘they didn’t know about Kaguya at the time’. Gaara remained po-faced through it all but his lips did curve up in a half-smirk. In the back of her mind, Sakura wondered what he’d look like if he fully smiled. Naruto’s features always lit up so infectiously when he beamed at her. He was like the sun.

“It’s okay, Naruto,” she interjected, reaching out to touch his hand and halting him in mid-rambling. “I understand. Thank you, both of you, for offering me shelter. Being a demon...it will take some time for me to get used to that. Especially since it seems I cannot go back home, right? Or am I wrong?” Deep down, she clinged to the absurd hope that maybe she’d be safe in the village, that while everyone would be flabbergasted or scandalized at her new form, they’d learn to accept her monstrous transmogrification and carry on with their day. But that vain hope flickered out and ebbed away like a small ember in the firesite when she witnessed the plaintive sympathy flashing in Naruto’s cerulean eyes or the disapproving expression overtaking Gaara’s pale features.

“No, you’re not wrong, Sakura-chan,” the fox demon admitted ruefully. “If you go back to your village...things can go poorly.”

“You will be killed or imprisoned. And I would slaughter the fools who harmed any part of you, down to a single hair on your head.” groused Gaara, arms crossed resolutely. Sakura didn’t doubt him. There was no way she would risk the village being subjugated to his wrath simply because she missed her home and wanted to reveal herself to those closest to her in hope they would understand and accept her. They might but that didn’t mean the neighbors would. There was a reason why some towns had trained demon hunters and while her hamlet didn’t have any professionals like that, the village leaders could easily request one of the nearby settlements to let them borrow some of theirs.

Her vibrant wings spread out, only a little for her feathery, colorful bends to be able to brush against her cheek, as if to comfort her. So much had betided to her in less than a day, even though time seemed to have stretched itself for weeks. “You don’t have to worry about me sneaking off to go back to my village,” she replied dejectedly, reaching to card her fingers through the differing layers of feathers her wings seemed to have. She couldn’t mull about what she lost besides her humanity.

And shishou must be worried sick by now since I haven’t returned back to her clinic yet…

Eyes widening in remembrance, Sakura snapped her head over to her basket of herbs, relieved to still see it lying there, untouched. She didn’t imagine its existence after all!

“Demons can cast illusions and shapeshift, can’t they?” she queried abruptly, startling both Naruto and Gaara with her out of the blue question. Their eyes watched her as she twisted around to pluck the basket up from the ground and cradled it in her arms.

“Yeah, fox demons like me excel at both those abilities,” admitted Naruto proudly. He then elbowed his fellow demon playfully. “Gaara over here can cast a glamor but it won’t last as long as my illusions. Why do you ask, Sakura-chan?”

All right, this idea of mine just might work. I simply need to get both of them to agree with my request, Gaara in particular. He might not like what I have to say.

Toying with a stray piece of straw from the basket’s handle, Sakura replayed the words in her head one more time before voicing what was on her mind. “I know we already discussed me returning home is a terrible idea for me but my village needs these plants I gathered for them earlier. If you two use your illusions and glamor, the three of us could safely enter my village without issue. When I find my shishou, I deliver the plants to her, and once we say our farewells, we’ll leave.” The pinkette looked down at her basket, the source that landed her into this new life of hers. “It will be too risky and dangerous for me to go alone so I figured if the three of us go, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Frowning, Gaara opened his mouth, probably to object, but Naruto quickly cut over him to exclaim, “Of course we’ll help you, Sakura-chan! It’s the least we can do.” He tilted his head at Gaara expectantly prior to adding, “Right, Gaara?”

The said demon cursed profusely, continuing to frown irately even as he agreed with Naruto to accompany her to the village but warned her he wouldn’t tolerate any delays or side-trips.

“Just give your teacher those herbs and we leave immediately,” Gaara had told her flatly before he cast a glamor over himself to appear normal, like an ordinary human while Naruto’s illusion cloaked both him and Sakura.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have time to say goodbye to your teacher,” he whispered as he weaved the illusion over them, winking conspiratorially at her. “You ready?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes. Let’s go.”

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

They ended up staying in her village a little bit longer than Gaara wanted but he suffered in silence, uttering nothing to anyone when Sakura embraced her shishou and presented the long awaited herbs, apologizing for the wait. Like Naruto, the tanuki demon remained close by Sakura’s side, his eyes observing every little movement, a sentinel ready to turn into a vicious warrior if there was any hint of Sakura being threatened. Tsunade, Sakura’s mentor and mother figure, merely raised her eyes at the two strangers but didn’t comment on their presence at first. She directed her attention back to her apprentice, relieved to see her safe and sound after all this time but was simultaneously puzzled when Sakura announced she had to depart the village and didn’t know when she’d be coming back.

“But Sakura, I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re leaving?” Her honey brown eyes moved from her apprentice to Naruto and Gaara, suspicion etched on her features. While Gaara stoically glared right back at her, Naruto at least attempted to act congenial by beaming toothily and waving awkwardly at Tsunade. “Do these boys have anything to do with this peculiar decision of yours?”

Sort of. But it’s complicated.

Instead, Sakura answered, “It’s a long story, shishou, but they helped me. And right now, I just can’t stay here any more, not for a while.” Or ever.

However, she kept that dismal line of thought to herself, stowing it in the darkest recesses of her mind because she didn’t want contemplate the possibility that this could be the last time she’d ever behold her teacher again, the only person who truly cared about her dreams and desires and offered her an apprenticeship in medicine. And if Tsunade believed there was a chance she’d see her apprentice again, then she might be more accepting in letting Sakura go with Gaara and Naruto with minimal fuss.

Even though the urge to tell Tsunade the truth, to break down in her arms and sob that she was no longer human and wouldn’t be welcomed anymore by the people who once thanked her for treating their wounds and ailments, fiercely chewed her up minute by minute, clawing at her to cave in. Instead, she steeled herself against Tsunade’s observant scrutiny and dug her fingertips into her besmirched apron, thankfully only covered in dirt and grass stains and not her own blood.

Tsunade regarded her carefully, her gaze never wavering for at least thirty seconds or so until she let out a heavy sigh and her shoulders sagged. “I know what it was like and what I craved for when I was your age so I won’t press you, Sakura. But please visit me when you can and don’t forget your training. I long to see you become a top physician in your right.” The older woman smiled fondly at her, patting her head as Sakura brightened at Tsunade’s remarks. Even with such little information given to her, Tsunade still believed in her and trusted her judgment. Maybe one day, she’ll tell Tsunade what really happened, after she became wholly accustomed to her demon body.

“Thank you, shishou. I promise I won’t let you down!”

Her mentor nodded firmly, satisfied with the fiery resolve blooming across Sakura’s visage. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Sakura. And as for your two ‘friends’...” She turned around fully to face them with the full force of her disapproving glower and cracked her knuckles. “If either one or both of you cause my Sakura any amount of grief, pain, and misery and she doesn't break enough bones in your body, then I will personally see to it the two of you won’t be able to walk or eat solid foods for several months. Do I make myself clear?”

Despite being a demon, Naruto immediately bobbed his head, blue eyes wide and alert. “Yes, m’am!”

Gaara grunted but nodded his head slowly, unfazed by Tsunade’s menace. He probably found her mentor’s violent words amusing, just like Sakura’s presence was to him.

Sakura groaned in her hands. Thankfully, there were no more outbursts and threats and three of them managed to leave Tsunade’s home with Naruto and Gaara in one piece. She had no idea what would be in store in her when she ventured into the world of demons, yet at least she wasn’t doing this journey alone.

Stretching out her motley wings to get used to their height and wingspan, Sakura watched Gaara and Naruto unlock the complex illusion that was cast over the main gateway into their clans’ lands and closed her eyes in relief. Yes, at least she wasn’t alone and would have help along the way in training and harnessing her demonic abilities and one day, be able to fly on her own. She was looking forward to that part.

“The stories got it all wrong,” she murmured to herself. “Demons aren’t so terrible after all.”

#narutofantasyweek2020 #narutofantasyweek #naruto fantasy week #naruto-fantasy-week #GaaSaku #NaruSaku #Sakura x Gaara #Sakura x Naruto #my writing #monstrous #Naruto

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ladyluck852 · 6 years

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Baby Daddy (Father!Taemin x Reader)

A/N: thank you for all of the requests, I hope you guys like this, sorry it took me a while! I bet you all know the struggle, I have to go through this every time Taemin does something hot and I get pregnant (jk forgive me) 🖤💖

Word count: 1.5k

Genre: fluff, all the fluff. Maybe slight angst...

Warnings: some curse words, some stuff that hints at postpartum depression, Taemin baby feels💖

“Baby. Baby wake up”

The alarm clock read 4AM, my eyes nearly bugged out of my skull, I’d been having the same dream for the last week whenever I had the slightest chance to close my eyes. I was reliving the day I gave birth to our daughter over and over again, in excruciating detail, sometimes the flashbacks were so vivid it was hard for me to be around her. Whenever that happened, Taemin was quick to intervene, caring for our daughter expertly like he’d been doing it for years. The last month and half had been rough, I wasn’t prepared but we made do pretty well, but this newborn baby girl was whooping our asses more than either of us would like to admit.

“What is it? Is it the baby?” I asked, sitting up in bed and wincing at the pain that came with it, Taemin just rubbed my back before pulling me back down.

“She’s fine, I checked on her, she’s still sleeping. You were having a nightmare, I was worried” he whispered, his hands were caressing my face, pushing my hair back as he drew me closer. My eyes fluttered shut, ridiculously tired but also accustomed to being up at this time with our daughter and her hectic sleeping schedule. Having a baby changed my life in many ways, mostly for the better, but somethings were unpleasant. I was hormonal and moody, in pain half the time and so so tired. Sometimes I didn’t know how to keep going, some days I couldn’t even look at our baby without breaking down, Taemin was always there to remind me that I was strong and capable of doing it on my own, and together we were even stronger.

“I just keep dreaming about the night she was born” I whispered, burying my face in his chest and breathing him in. We’d gotten undeniably closer the last couple of weeks, which was something I was so scared of when I was still pregnant. Most of my friends who were single parents now said that after their child was born they could feel the distance between them and their partner instantly, but after our baby girl was born I felt closer to Taemin than I ever had before. I couldn’t help but feel so lucky every time I looked at him, every time he came home and held his baby girl, every time we went to bed together.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were still dreaming about that” he whispered, his hands rubbing comforting circles on my back as I sighed softly, “would you like to talk about it?”

I pulled back to look at him, biting my lip as he gave me a small smile, “it’s okay, we were both there, one day I’ll be able to look back on it and it won’t be a nightmare. Instead it’ll be the greatest day of my life”

“Aren’t you glad I gave you the cutest baby girl ever, because I am” he teased, nuzzling his nose into mine while pulling me halfway onto him. My body wanted to mold onto him instantly, but I put my hands on his shoulders to get off while he scowled at me, “relax”

“What if the baby wakes up, I’m going to be so comfortable” I huffed, laying my head on his shoulder anyways as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“I bet you $10 that you won’t even wake up when I get up to get her” Taemin mumbled, patting my back like I was a baby. It worked, I wasn’t sure how but my eyes were fluttering closed.

“Oh, so you’re going to get her this time. You won’t complain?” I teased sleepily.

“Just go to sleep mom”

I woke up at 7am in an empty bed on Taemin’s side, the sunlight coming in through the windows as I wondered how he didn’t wake me up this morning. I vaguely remember clinging to him like a koala bear, but I don’t remember him waking up or even hearing the baby cry so I must have been knocked the hell out. My feet hurt as I walked into the living room, faintly hearing music on the tv and seeing Taemin sitting on the couch with our baby in his arms. I stood behind him, running my hands down his shoulders as I watched the video he had playing on screen, a live performance he’d done for his solo concert.

“Why are you showing the baby videos of how I got pregnant?” I asked, kissing the top of his head before walking around the couch to sit next to him, “did she eat?”

“Yes, good morning, how did you sleep?” He teased, wrapping his arm around me before handing out daughter off. She was fast asleep, Taemin was the only one who could put her in this deep of a sleep and maybe she got that from me. All Taemin had to do was cuddle me for two seconds and I was out like a light for 8 hours, the first time he spent the night he thought I died, but ever since we had the baby I hadn’t been able to sleep like a corpse until tonight.

“Amazing, listen I was thinking, should we move the baby into the room with us? She could sleep on the bed sometimes, the doctor said it was fine. Maybe it would help me sleep” I mumbled, staring down at the baby who looked just like me. Maybe I was slightly disappointed she didn’t look like Taemin, it was tough being a new mom and not exactly liking yourself and then everyone commenting on how much your baby looked exactly like you, but who knows maybe when she got older I could convince her Taemin wasn’t really her father since she looked nothing like him.

“That sounds amazing, just make sure you aren’t in a cuddling mood whenever she sleeps with us because she’ll get jealous” he teased, kissing the side of my head.

“Shut up, put on a Shinee music video I want to see my boyfriend” I said, patting his leg as he reached for the remote to change his own damn video.

“I am your fiancé not your boyfriend”

“I meant Kibum” I snickered, laughing a bit too loud because the baby woke up and gave me a pouty face, “she looks like you when she pouts. Now I see it”

She made the same weird little face Taemin would make, maybe she got her quirks from her father and her looks from me, if she was a dancer and singer when she grew up I’d give her a round of applause because I was lacking in the talent department while her father was the one who had it all. Looks, talent, charisma, he was just a huge dork sometimes.

“Are you calling me ugly?” He whined, coincidentally making the same face as her as I gasped and cradled the baby a bit closer.

“Did you just call my baby ugly?”

“Our baby”

“My baby, you did none of the work, I almost died”

“You did not. How dramatic can you be?” he laughed, laying his head in my lap as he placed the baby on his chest and she proceeded to fall asleep again, “if your leg falls asleep don’t move, you’ll wake the baby”

“I’m going to refrain from saying anything mean and just let you know that I love you, a lot, you’re my best friend and if you ever leave me I would die” I sighed, caressing his face as he closed his eyes. My heart wanted to jump out and throw itself at him just because I was looking at him, with his little baby on his chest looking content.

“I’m not stupid enough to leave you, aren’t you glad I’m a genius?”

“Yes, I love you”

“I love you more, our baby is so cute I bet she’s going to grow up to be just like you. She loves you so much you know? She looked disappointed when I got her up this morning, also she popped everywhere and I cleaned it up because I am a good dad”

My eyes widened as I gasped, “Taemin you even cleaned up poop? Who are you?”

“Did you not just hear me say a good dad?” He asked, one eye opening as he looked offended, “I’m the best Dad ever right?”

I pretended like it took me a while to think about my answer and he whined a bit, “oh yes baby, you’re the best dad ever. You take care of us so well, we’re so lucky to have you”

“That’s right, and you’re the best mom ever too, even if you get lazy sometimes. But you can do it all, it’s scary that just two months ago I had to carry your purse and pick things up for you, now it’s the opposite” he joked, and I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.

“I hate you” I choked, my eyes watering as Taemin laughed quietly.

“I love you”

“I love you more”

#taemin au #lee taemin scenario #taemin fluff #taemin smut #taemin fanfiction #taemin x reader #lee taemin #taemin #shinee imagine #shinee #shinee scenario #taemin scenario #father!taemin #cute stuff #ladyluck852

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 5 years

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Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

I had a friend create a 10-category, 50-question Harry Potter trivia quiz for my 30th birthday. I have a Ravenclaw tattoo that takes up most of my right forearm. I’ve helped orchestrate an HP-themed baby shower. I’ve held multiple HP movie marathons. And when we were first dating and Wife told me she’d never read the books, I legitimately cried and then blocked it from my memory. When she told me for the second time, months later, I cried again.

One could say I’m a fan of the wizarding world.

So here we are, at the second entry in the second wizarding franchise, and the only question really worth answering is, is this a world that’s still worth visiting? Well...

Imagine someone you love - it could be anyone, but as an example I’ll use your best friend. Imagine your BEST friend, whom you’ve shared so much with, whom you’ve gone through ups and downs with. That one. Now imagine that every few months, your best friend’s mom sends you a text, or calls you, or puts up a billboard in your town that seems to be actively trying to get you to hate your best friend. Things like “She kicks puppies” or “One time, she made fun of a homeless man until he cried” or “She told me she wants to set fire to a hospital.” Like, real fucked up stuff. Would you maintain a relationship with that friend? With them both? Or would you cut ties completely and just hold onto the memories of the friendship you used to have?

I’m genuinely asking, because J.K. Rowling seems hellbent on shitting all over the things I love in some twisted effort to make me utterly baffled and repulsed by the world she has created. I never thought I’d say this, but Johnny Depp is the least of this movie’s problems, so welcome to Whose Crime Is It Anyway? where the timelines are made up and the plot points don't matter.

A spoilery summary! Our favorite Hufflepuff Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne) is asked by Hot Dumbledore (Jude Law) to go to Paris and find Credence (Ezra Miller). You remember Credence, the sweet emo boy from the first movie whose death functioned as the climax of the film? JK JK death is meaningless and impermanent here! It’s the roaring 20s, everyone’s drunk. Newt needs to find him because Grindelwald (Johnny Depp, doing his best impression of day-old potato salad) is also looking for him. Credence is the subject of a prophecy that everyone’s familiar with but the audience, you see, and he’s currently trapped in a Parisian street circus with a woman/snake named Nagini (Claudia Kim, and yes, THAT Nagini). Jacob and Queenie (Dan Fogler and Alison Sudol) also show up again, because they were in the first movie too so they have to be here for this. Jacob’s memory has been restored because...~handwavey reasons~ and Queenie decides to join The Mayonnaise Man’s cause as a wizard Nazi because...she wants to marry a Muggle. Somehow I think she didn’t read the whole orientation flyer. Leta Lestrange (Zoe Kravitz) is engaged to Newt’s brother, Theseus (Callum Turner) but is mostly hanging around to look sad and reveal that Credence couldn’t be her long-lost brother because she killed her long-lost brother by switching him with another baby on a ship right before it sank at sea. And she’s right, Credence isn’t her brother - he’s gone over to the dark side, where the vaguely human amalgamation of cauliflower rice tells him he’s the long-lost brother of Albus Dumbledore! Because why the fuck not, nothing else in this goddamn thing makes any sense anyway.

I would also like to point out I left out at least 40 more characters, many of whom seem to be important but are never named or introduced in any way.

SEVERAL thoughts:

Visually, this world is stunning. The set designers have done an incredible job showcasing new magical settings in rich, vivid detail. The Parisian street circus and the French Ministry of Magic building were particular favorites of mine.

Likewise, the 1927-era costumes are drop-dead gorgeous. This franchise should really be called Fantastic Coats and Where to Find Them.

50 galleons seems so steep. I wonder what the wizarding inflation rate is.

Snakes can fit through bars of cages...

Performances - Redmayne is sweet, but virtually shoved out of the way in his own franchise; Kravitz is cold and removed - is that acting choice secret pain or constipation? Hard to say; Fogler is underutilized, especially after being the emotional MVP of the first film; Sudol is fractured and manic, completely devoid of her earnest warmth from before; Miller barely gets 3 lines, and mostly looks like he’s about to cry; Law is fine as hell and kindly and wise and doesn’t give off weird “I’m going to use children as sacrificial lambs without telling them or anyone else about it” vibes, so that’s already a big step up from the Dumbledore we get in the books; and then there’s Johnny. Johnny “lightly braised tofu” Depp is giving one of his most understated performances in years, to the point that he’s almost...boring? Most genocidal fuckheads are at least compelling speakers, but this dehydrated turnip just sort of glides about, while his followers do dastardly things for him. He doesn’t even kill his own toddlers, he outsources it to his followers. Does nobody believe in honest, hard work anymore?

Basically all of the details - the set dressing, the costumes, the overall aesthetics and feel of the film - are beautifully realized. However, the foundation is made of smoke and sand and the distant sound of JKR’s maniacal laughter.

Cast and endorse an accused abuser who is teetering on the brink of public collapse? Check. Include outdated Orientalism cliches by casting an East Asian woman as mysterious, dangerous, and literally snake-like? Check. How about a white imperialist Imperius-ing Leta Lestrange's (black African) mother and literally forcing her into sex slavery with no follow-up or reflection on the part of the film or its characters? Check. It’s like some sort of perverse bingo game she’s playing to try to alienate everyone who might have seen themselves in the Harry Potter universe as belonging, because they understood what it was like to be an outsider, to be abused, to be shunned and made fun of and ostracized. Cause fuck all those people, amirite?

And that’s just the offensive choices from a purely political standpoint. How about the offensive choices regarding more trivial matters like linear time and space - like Dumbledore teaching Transfiguration, not DAtDA. Or like Professor MacGonagall being born in 1935, yet somehow teaching at Hogwarts in 1927. People apparating inside Hogwarts. Complete reversals of characters’ personalities and motivations. Characters being introduced and never seen again (where did Bunty go?? Did she die???) Characters NOT being introduced and never seen again (what up Jessica Williams, super psyched that you’re here, sure would be neat if I knew who the fuck you were playing or why that person was important!) If the references are meant for fans’ benefit, it fucking BACKFIRED, because most HP fans I know aren’t looking for a convoluted soap opera where babies are switched, people have secret brothers, everyone's amnesia gets reversed, and people come back from the dead.

Now that I think about it, the practice of confronting a boggart is super problematic. Like people have traumas. It's not all spiders and snakes, Dumbledore! God, Hogwarts pedagogy is shit.

I’m still not convinced that Jude Law’s tasty Daddy Dumbledore could possibly still be in love with this tuna salad sandwich from a vending machine at the DMV. That flashback in the Mirror of Erised is supposed to be full of longing but all I could think was, “is this how straight people think gay sex works?” Would have loved to hear that day in the writer’s room. “Maybe we could have them kiss?” “Too gay. What if they exchange blood vows and hold hands to form a magical amulet?” “Nailed it.” *everyone high fives and chugs a Red Bull*

There’s just...so much. So much that I wish were different. I don’t quite know how it’s possible for a film to explain both too much and not enough, but here we are. The Crimes of Grindlewald isn’t just a title, it’s a prophecy of what audiences are forced to endure here - it’s not just separating art from artist, it’s not just cultural exploitation and othering, it’s not just queer erasure, it’s not just overplotted and underwhelming narrative, it’s not just cheap shocks and winking references. The rap sheet just keeps getting longer and longer, and I have to wonder when, if ever, Rowling will atone for these crimes.

#118in2018 #the crimes of grindelwald #the crimes of grindelwald review #fb tcog #fantastic beasts #jk rowling #wizarding world #newt scamander #eddie redmayne #johnny depp #jude law #zoe kravitz #dan fogler #alison sudol #ezra miller #claudia kim #movie reviews #film reviews

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caribbeanempressblog · 5 years

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Bound to you pt 3

Plot: In a world where witches and vampires are sworn enemies what happens when you're cursed to die at the hands of seven?

Genre: Vampire x witch Ot7 x reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: trigger warning, flashback,graphic depiction of vampire attack, blood drinking, magic using, death

part 2

After you ran blindly away from your problems like a coward hoping it will resolve itself, you found yourself sitting on one of the stone benches in the manor garden. Yoongi words ringing in your ears like a bad mantra ‘survive’ ‘self preservation’ you couldn't help wonder if you had none.

You watched thoughts pulling you in all different direction as the moonlight cast shadows upon the water of the pond that sat in the middle of the garden that was home to an assortment of lilies and whatever else little creatures find solace in the shallow waters.

The cold night air swept across your skin making your hair lift off your shoulder but you didn't feel it too lost in your thoughts, numb to everything besides the thoughts that was swimming in your head. Much to your dismay you found your mind pulling you back into a memory you try so hard to forget.

self preservation

Images flashed before your eyes as the word ring in your ears. A scared little girl, blood, smoke, death, vampires, awakening.

Your heartbeat accelerated as you forced yourself to push the memories away but they kept coming faster and more vivid. You squeezed your eyes close to shut them away but instead you we're transported back to the moment you kept locked away a moment that change your life forever.

You we're just a care free little girl when it happen when you first brush with a vampire change your live forever.

There was a time when Vampire and witches wasn't sworn enemies, it wasn't always like that, no they coexist together long before the age of man,until that fateful day when a rogue vampire discovered the power that comes from drinking witches blood, the power to walk in the daylight.

And so the witch killings began and the birth of the day lighter came about.

But just like the vampire made a discovery a witch learned a deadly secret also, in the heat of battle her life on the line she focus all her magic into killing that vampire and kill him she did but she soon realize that all his energy was transferred to her. It made her powerful yes but it also corrupted her magic. She felt powerful a different kind of power and she wanted more.

And so the playing field was leveled witches no longer lived in fear they were feared.

After a few centuries the killings decreased the vampires realized the risk was greater than the reward so they no longer pursue witches, the witches quest for power continued.

But where there was evil good was always just beneath the surface waiting to rise up.

That's what your momma told you the story of the vampire and the witches, as a kid you were skeptical but way too soon skepticism was snatched from you.

You knew something was wrong when your father told you to hide in the bushes and don't come out until he came back for you.

You and him had been making your way back from the marketplace to your village when a blood crawlling scream had you frozen in fear.

“Papa don't leave me” you begged tears already brewing.

“Don't be scared baby I will be back for you I just have to make sure momma and minji are ok” he had assured you.

But he never came back for you.

You waited you didn't remember how long but the screams had become silence when you decided to go looking. The closer you got the more a warning rang in your ear to stay hidden but your family was out there you had to find them. You didn't know what you expected to find but it definitely wasn't this.

As you made your way into the village clearing in search off your family the sight that greeted you had your knees trembling a wave of fear washing over you.

Bodies upon bodies lay lifeless around you the stench of blood filled the air making you want to gag.

Everyone was dead.

But what had your heart stopping was the sight of your mother in the heat of battle blue sparks shooting from her fingertips her red hair flying beside her like wildfire as she send an attacker flying backwards.

You stand transfixed eyes on your mother as you couldn't believe what she was doing.

Both relaxation hit you at the same time that your mother was a witch and she no doubt was battling a vampire for her life as he bared his fangs and charge towards her.

You heard a scream and all eyed turned on you, it took you a moment to realize you had scream and long after you we're gonna hate yourself for it.

Two things happen simultaneously your mother scream for you to run as the vampire charge towards you fangs out eyes red as blood. You'd never forget that face the face of evil of death the face that haunted many o f your dreams long after . But you couldn't run fear had frozen you in place self preservation didn't kick in no not that time.

He was on you now you saw your mother ran towards you hand raise to strike another attack but you had distracted her from the other vampire that came out of the shadows he pulled her by the hair and you watched in horror as his canine lengthen and he was biting into her veins ripping out parts of her neck. You watched in mortification as her lifeless body tumble to the ground the blue sparks dying with her,as the vampire make towards you her blood still on his lips.

Your little life flashed before your eyes as you stood in the face of the evil.

“She is mine” was the last thing you heard as the vampire advance on you, a heart stopping pain slice through your body.

You remembered feeling your life slip away the visions of your family danced before your eyes.Your mother your beautiful mother they had killed her they took her from you. But that pain was soon replaced by anger, vision blinding anger, hate and rage a very distinct form of it clawing at your insides fighting for release,threatening to consume you from inside out. But soon that was giving way to something else something powerful.

You didn't know what it was at the time but you felt everything in that moment.The air, the pain, the fear, the hatred, the energy, you felt it flowing through your veins giving life to something dark and powerful.

And just like that the pain in your neck was gone and the vampire was flying away from you.

You should of crumpled to the ground from the blood loss but you didn't,you stood tall as your body was being rejuvenated by your magic.

You saw the other vampire shocked expression but only for a second as he charged towards you,he didn't get far though.

You remember thinking how you wanted him to burn to suffer for killing your mother and with that in mind your scream pierce the night air and you watched as he went up in flames.

Everything went up in flames that day your village your life your innocence.

It became all too much for you the blood, the scent of burning flesh,but most importantly the power that had awaken inside you and the last thing you saw before your head connect with the blood soak floor was your little brother face frozen in time next to you.

“Princess?” a voiced called out to you pulling you away from your memories into the present. You inhaled deeply trying to calm your highly erratic beating heart as the images disappeared from your head back into its resting place. You blinked furiously trying to persuade the tears brewing in your eyes from falling.

You turn towards the voice and saw Namjoon standing there looking down at you with concern eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked as he move to sit beside you draping your cloak around your shoulders “thought you might be cold”.

The amount of times you've been asked that today your answer should be clear really but who would be ok in a situation like this?

You muttered your thanks as you wrapped yourself up in it, you didn't realize how cold your were until the warmth of the cloak begun to seep into your blood.

“I'm fine” maybe if you said it enough times you would actually start believing it.

“Y/n come on I know you I know when you're not fine”

You glared at him “ if you knew me then you would know not to ask that of me namjoon!” you snapped.

You flinch as your words sound in your ears, you bit your lips and turn your head away from him.

“I'm sorry”

He hooked a finger beneath your chin to bring your eyes back to him.

He was smiling that dimple smile and you felt your heart tighten, here he was looking like some enchanted creature as the moonlight cast shadows on his face highlighting his cheekbones and making his skin glow.

“ I'm the one who should be apologizing”

Why was he like this? You were being a cold hearted bitch to him and he was telling you to not apologize for it.

“Talk to me”

“How could you even think about me doing that?”

He sigh a deep long sound like a he was tired.

“Yoongi and his big mouth,he claims to be a genius but sometimes I think he only has two brain cells”

You resist the urge to laugh namjoon was right Yoongi was brilliant, his mind and thoughts spoke of intelligence and wisdom far beyond his age even though he was a centuries year old vampire. Yoongi one questionable quality was his ability to not put bars on his word. Tell it like it is, something you love about him. He wouldn't lie just to appease feeling. It's funny really because the thing you love the most about him is alslo the thing you dislike the most.

“Because it a chance that you could break the curse”

“Joon you know what that does to a vampire y-you” you felt your throat constricting as you struggle to get the words out. “Barely survived”

He took both your hands in his a comforting gesture. You looked up at him.” But I survived thanks to you”

“I'm willing to do what it takes so you can survive”

“Even if it means drawing power from you that will no doubt kill you? “ You questioned.

“ Potentially kill me” he said with a smile

You raised a brow at his nonchalance.

“Those witches was evil people long before they had access to that kind of power” he said sternly.

“Those were dark magic”

“My power comes from a dark place” you bit your lip remembering how that power had nearly consume from inside out. Your struggle to control all the power you had inside you that you didn't know where it come from wasn't exactly easy. It was obvious you got it from your mother but why didn't she tell you. So much questions you didn't have answer too. If she had just told you maybe just maybe, you could have save them. Namjoon made a sound of distaste pulling your attention back to him.

His handsome face twisted in a scold his chestnut eyes looking at you quizzically. “Yes your powers may have come at a dark time in your life but it's not about the power it's about the person who wills the power and you princess is all that is good in this world”

You wanted to believe him that you were good in this world but why did bad things always happen to good people? That's the question you had no answer too.

“We were all meant to die that day if I hadn't try to counter the curse all this wouldn't have happen” you said cynically.

“You really believe that? That we were better off dead?” he said it lightly but the unsurety in his voice had you feeling ashamed for saying that.

You sighed “of course not”

You didn't really believe that they were better off dead they were good people they didn't deserve to die just because of other vampires actions.Just because she hated Vampire and hated you more. Everybody wasn't the same there was good and evil in this world. Good witches bad witches same goes for vampire, but being cursed for being a vampire wasn't really fair to anyone but then again life wasn't fair.

“Do you remember when we first met” Namjoon asked pulling you from your thoughts?

You grimace it wasn't a pleasant memory everything change that day for the second time in your life. “How can I forget”

“You ask me to trust you that you would save me” he said as he no doubt took a trip down memory lane.

You smile a little. “I remember”

“I trusted you then and you didn't betray me you could off easily told the witches where to find my brothers but you didn't” he took a deep breathe now turning towards you

“I trust you with my life princess if my last breath could save you I would give it to you.If you have to channel me to save us I will let you do it”

You felt a dark cloud loom over your head his words speaking volumes to you. You had never felt so conflicted in your life. Knowing that he would give his life to save yours wasn't a knowledge that made you want to jump for joy it had you sitting in dread. Just like all things the universe will no doubt find a way to test that theory.

“Do you sometimes wish you could forget, forget meeting me my brothers forget saving me that day?” he asked thoughtfully.

It was easy for him to think that scratch that it probably wasn't to have that doubt that feeling of regret that feeling that you were responsible for the death of others.You felt that every day for some reason, you knew your family death wasn't your fault but you couldn't help the feeling. That if you had gone looking sooner if you wasn't scared, you powers might have save them. The knowledge that you would never know drove you crazy the guilt found its way to your mind each day you were alive and they wasn't.But this wasn't his fault it wasn't any of their doing he had to know that.

You took his hands in yours squeezing it reassuringly while looking at him so he will see no doubt as you spoke your truth.

“I don't want to ever forget meeting you or the guys. You are everything I have left the only fa-” you swallowed the bile rising in your throat. “Family I have in this world if I wasn't for you I wouldn't have realize the evil that my magic was been used for”

“If anything you're the one who saved me” you smiled cupping his cheeks in your hand.

He kissed the inside of you hand closing his eyes to savor the warmth of your touch.

“What did I ever do in my past life to deserve you? “ he whispered.

You chuckled “ I ask myself that same question” you teased.

He opened his eyes face turning serious for a moment. “Promise me you will think about it. Im- we're not pressuring you or anything-”

You pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. “I promise I will find a way I will do whatever it takes to break this curse” you vowed.

For once in your life you were sure of something. You didn't know how you would do it but you would do it. For them, for yourself you would find a way or you would die trying.

“Kiss me” you whispered as you removed your hands from his lips.

Your breathing increase as his eyes darken his gaze falling to your lips, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips instinctively.

He bent his head towards you lips connecting with yours in a kiss that felt so right, so good. He moved his lips along yours in soothing strokes, just the brush of lips on lips but it wasn't enough for you. Your hand found purchase in his hair clutching at the silver silk strand as you open your mouth to him so he would know he was free to enter. He hesitated not to slip his tongue inside to mingle with yours.

You moan now pleasure shooting through your body to leave a trail off wetness at your core. He pulled you into his arms and you straddle him pressing yourself on him.

He clutched at you desperately, as if he let go you would fly away with the wind or fate would snatch you from his grasp.He break the kiss only to continue kiss your cheeks your forehead your nose. He did it so lovingly you felt like your heart may burst. How was it possible to love seven people so equally so deep? Was it really a curse? The curse wasn't for them to love you but to kill you. But who had decided that your life was forever joined with theirs as one. Was it fate? Destiny? Was it the call of a Soul mate?. Maybe, Maybe not.

“I love you so much” he whispered against your skin.Pulling your thoughts back to him,he had a tendency to do that,pull you from within yourself expose all the things you tried to keep hidden. Your own anchor from the madness inside you. His breath was like fire on your skin setting your heart ablaze.

He pulled away to look up at you sitting atop him. His eyes gazing at you intently like he was trying to memorize every spot every curve every imperfection.

“Don't leave again” he pleaded his chestnut eyes searching yours for confirmation.

Your swore your heart stopped for a second at his words at the love shining in those depths.You knew exactly what he meant by that. A new spark of determination flashed in your eyes and you knew you would do what you had to do, you would find a way that didn't involve their life.

You cupped his cheek reassuringly.

“I promise”.

#Bound To You #bound to you series #bound to you pt 3 #ot7 x reader #BTS jin #BTS jimin #BTS jungkook #bts v #bts yoongi #bts hosoek #bts namjoon

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presidentbttrflyfreak · 6 years

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always will be // tom holland

my first tom fic!! (well i imagined tom when i wrote the peter parker fic so... maybe second?) it’s a mix of fluff and pain but i hope you guys like it! thank you for the anon who requested this one from this prompt list, #25. also, i did use one more prompt from this prompt list (not mine, credit to @smollmikey). The prompts used will be in bold. drop a like or a reblog if you liked it!

[ italicized = flashback ]

Warnings: fluff n some pain and cLINGY!tom

Word count: 2.7k

moodboard created by the wonderful @beautiful-holland!! check @beautiful-holland out and see more (or request some) moodboards & don’t forget to show some love!!

It was an incredibly frigid afternoon. Every time Tom shivered and released a heavy breath of chill, tiny yet soft clouds of breath vapor puffed out his mouth. He scrunched his stiff toes against the soles of his boots as he trod towards the flower shop.

Pulling the hood of his jacket over his windblown curls, he cautiously hid behind a shop stall when he saw her watering the flowers and plants. A smirk crept upon his lips as he made a move to startle her, but he abruptly retreated. He wanted to take the sight of her in, where she stood with a hunched back, one hand behind her ear to keep locks of her hair from falling down her face and the other hand gripping on a water can, sweeping her arm as water drizzles on the plants.

She makes sure to pour enough water on each pot, just like how Tom sees her do everyday. He had not seen any other person take care of something like how she did. Tom understood that this was a way for her to calm herself and find peace somewhere with the flowers. Tom bites on his lips as he tries to stifle a chuckle after he sees her squat down in front of a pot of sunflowers and pat the blooming yellow heads. Every gesture and every weird mannerism of hers Tom adored and absolutely loved. The way she runs her hands through her hair every time she was a bit stressed, the way she slept without a pillow to rest her head on, the way she never ties the laces of her shoes regardless of how many times Tom scolds her to.

He now moved away from his spot after being asked by the clerk if her would like to buy anything. Tom took slow steps towards her, hands locked behind his back. He maneuvered around her when she turned to the right to water the plants on that side. Tom grabbed a watering can that rested on the rugged concrete. He began watering without her notice and whistled to her favorite song while doing so.

Her head spun to Tom's figure immediately and he acted like he didn't notice her at all. He avoided her eyes and glanced at the blue sky, the birds flapping their wings and the bricked roof of the flower shop, still whistling. She turned to look around somehow in a sense of embarrassment and scooted closer to Tom, swiftly reaching his arm which was holding the watering can.

"Tom, what're you doing--"

She was cut off instantly when Tom, like it was a normal gesture, planted a quick kiss on her cheeks, incredibly red from the cold. And now, plus the peck.

He finally faced her and met his eyes with hers. Tom showed one of his wide come-on-i'm-cute smiles without any hint of apology at all. "I was just helping." He said, bringing the can down to hit feet and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket.

With wide and unbelieving eyes, she quickly dropped the can and dragged Tom inside the shop by the collar of his denim jacket. "Unbelievable, Holland!" She whisper-shouted.

He was laughing heartily now, taking the hand that pinched him by the collar and squeezing them tight with his. She had successfully dragged him inside, thankful to the heavens that there aren't anymore customers. She pulled her hands from his grip before shooting daggers towards Tom then flips the 'closed' side of the sign against the cool surface of the shop's door.

Tom took this as a chance to take big strides towards her back and wrapped his arms around her waist. With his nose buried in her neck, Tom asked with a muffled voice, "So does this mean that I can catch you unguarded and kiss you on the cheek so that you'll close early and spend some quality time with your man?"

Turning around and prying Tom's arms off her despite the reluctance she felt, she removed the hood covering his unkempt hair brushed them with her fingers. "What's got you all clingy today? Perhaps you ate something funny for breakfast?" With a raised eyebrow, she approached the counter and clamped her fingers around the keys resting beside the cash register.

Tom liked this, teasing her and all, and he was going to continue. He took one of the single wrapped flowers and stood in front of her, stopping her from cleaning up. "I don't know, maybe the fact that you finally said yes to me yesterday?" Then, Tom handed the flower to her before winking goofily.

She snatched the flower from his grasp and laughed with unbelief. "I would hate to take back those three letters so would you please stop teasing me, Holland?" She placed the flower back and switched the lights off.

Tom reminisced the memory from yesterday, still so vivid and fresh in his mind. He has been working towards making her understand how important she truly is to him for a long time now. He did this by coming over to her house early in the morning to bring breakfast, driving her to university and fetching her to go home too, and holding her tight whenever the panic attacks came.

He was aware of her trouble in sleeping. However, it was only that night when she confessed to him about her insomnia. It was one of the coldest midnights ever, and Tom was just making himself some tea after waking up from a bad dream when she gave his phone a ring. Tom wondered who would call him at 2:30 AM, but when her name blinked at the screen of his phone, he hurriedly placed his mug down. They had just finished texting with one another earlier at 9:30 PM, with her ending the conversation saying she would head to bed already. Although his mind was racing with thoughts of panic and worry, he forced himself to steady his voice and calm himself down. If it was another of her attacks, Tom wouldn't want to add to it by worrying too.

"Hey, dear. What woke you up at this hour?" He asked, pure sincerity dripping from his words.

Silence echoed between the line for a few seconds. Then, Tom heard a few sniffles from her end. "Actually, Tom, I haven't sleep a wink." She replied with a raspy voice, shaking a little too from crying.

Tom silently raced towards his room, grabbing a sweater from his closet. "That's absolutely horrible. How about the tea, did you drink it?" He asked after putting the phone on speaker. Tom was now slipping into his sweater and sneakers with hastened movements.

She sniffled and took a deep breath. "I haven't slept for a few days now, Tom. Maybe an hour or two only. It's not just--" Her voice broke into tears and Tom's heart did the same.

Tom finished for her. "Not just trouble sleeping. Insomnia, is it?" He tried to say all this calmly while shutting the door of his apartment behind him. He regretted only putting on one layer of clothing as soon as he stepped out into the freezing wind.

Somehow, she got to swallow the spilling sobs from her throat. "Yeah. Yes, Tom." She whispered, shuffling sounds coming from the speaker.

Now in his car, Tom backs up from the driveway heading towards her place. "Okay. That's right, just put the phone on your nightstand and keep on talking to me, yeah?" He took a u-turn and stepped on the accelerator. "I'm listening, so you can keep those tears coming or you can keep venting to me, alright?"

Tom hears the sound of sheets ruffling. "Yeah, okay."

So throughout the whole 20 minute drive to her house, Tom listened patiently to the cries and worries of the woman she longed and cared so much for. His heart broke with every sob that came. She talked about how she regretted not telling him earlier, and all the burden she had on her chest and really just everything that raced through her mind while her body shouted for slumber and rest.

By the time that Tom hopped out of his car, she asked, "Thanks for always putting up with me, Tom. Are you sleepy already? You can go ahead, if you'd wish."

He arrived at the doorstep of her apartment. With his back on the surface of the wall, he slid down and sat beside her apartment's door. "It's alright, darling. I love hearing your voice. You can keep on talking till you fall asleep and I'll be with you through it all."

A heavy breath resonated from the end of her line. Tom heard this from the outside of the apartment too. "Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I'm really grateful for everything you do for me, right? For you alone, I am incredibly thankful to God. You know, I talk to Him about you. I was actually, before calling you."

Tom couldn't help but smile at that. This woman was so pure yet so troubled. He knows he's already asked her the question indirectly, but hearing that this lady prayed for him gave Tom more reasons to love her. He let a few seconds pass before finally replying. "Hey, honey. Can you get up from your bed? Or are you a bit dizzy or lightheaded?"

The line ended.

Tom still had the phone to his ear with her voice echoing in his head when the door creaked open slightly. Her head slowly peeked out and she saw Tom right over there, shivering from the cold, tired yet calm.

"I was right behind the door too. I heard some honks and revving of engines from the call earlier. Was just wishfully thinking that you were driving to me at 3 AM in the morning. Yet, here you really are." She was out the door now, in her pajamas. Tom noticed the sleeves of her shirt. Wet. A red nose and her hair a complete mess. Yet all that Tom saw was the woman that held his heart in her hands.

Tom stood up from the cold floor. Smiling, he opened his arms wide. "You can call me whenever you want. Even if you don’t have a reason to." Her eyes watered then and before he could see her weep, she lunged herself to him and was engulfed by Tom's strong and built arms. He ran his hands through her hair, kissing her head softly.

Tom's reminiscing was cut off by the sound of the shop's bell ringing after she closed the door tight.

Tom followed her out the shop, his eyes following her back, adoring the way she hugged her coat around her body tighter as she locked the shop. She looked back to him with a hidden look of embarrassment on her face. "Oh, you know that you don't want to and can't do that even if you had to!" Tom teased, catching up to her quick steps.

She looked at Tom's widely grinning face, taking in his tousled curls and slightly red nose. The sun was dipping now, and the way the remaining light of the sun accentuated Tom's mesmerizing features caused her to stare and smile. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know, until you do push me to my limits!" She shouted in a mocking tone then pulled the hood of his jacket over his shocked face in a swift motion, her savageness completely showing. She took off in a teasing sprint, looking back to see Tom angrily pouting then mouthing a threatening 'run fast, darling'. The pout-turned-smirk on his face made her jolt and really run in panic now.

Tom was laughing mischievously as he took big strides behind her. He sensed that she was really full-fledged bolting now, hearing nervous yet excited chuckles from her racing breath. While doing her best not to trip over herself, the elastic band tying her hair together snapped. Tom smirked wider and ran faster towards her halted figure.

"Okay, default win for you 'cause we have a code red! My hair tie snapped!" She agonized breathlessly as she tried to hold her locks together with her fingers. Tom came close with his racing breath matching hers. He smiled and tucked a lock of her behind her ear. "It's alright, dear. It looks great whether it's tied or let down."

A grin tugged on her lips. "Alright, 'cos you said that so cutely, I will let my hair down for once."

Tom grinned back and took her hand in his. Tucking both of their hands in the pocket of his jacket, they continued walking towards the train station like they always do. This was one of their ways to spend time together. Instead of Tom driving her home, they would take the train so that they could have more time to spend together.

When they arrived at the station, Tom went to the vending machine to buy some warm drinks. Tom's heart both warmed and ached at the memory he just reminisced. He couldn't believe that the woman she just chased around town and laughed with was the same woman who he had in his arms the night before, all walls and barriers finally broken down, whimpering and sobbing on to his chest.

When he got the drinks, Tom watched her back as she swayed from heel and toe, craning her neck to see if the train was coming or not. In that exact moment, all Tom saw was pure beauty and happiness. He felt an overwhelming rush of satisfaction and joy. Despite knowing that there was a billion more women out in the world, why search for someone else when you have the best right in front of you?

Overwhelmed from that sudden realization, he ran towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist. She jolted from the act and raised an eyebrow. "Where's my dri--"

Tom smiled so wide, toothy and full of joy. "Let me be honest and share a fact to the public, okay?"

Before even waiting for a response, Tom shouted at the top of his lungs, "Random PSA, this one's mine!"

He looked deep in her eyes and he could see how they saw the same thing he saw. She had a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, Tom!" She shrieked in bafflement and joy, looking around, expecting disgust and shock from the people around her.

However, many clapped and hollered in amazement. Laughter echoed throughout the station.

"You're doing it right, man!" "Way to go!" "Aw shucks, too bad!" "He's a keeper, miss!"

Both of them were laughing heartily by that time, cheeks flushed and hearts beating fast. At that exact moment, Tom went back and reminisced the last part of one of the happiest nights of his life.

He had held her tight and massaged her back as she wept until she calmed down and until her breathing stabilized. She brought him inside and closed the door to keep the cold from entering the house. Tom expected her go back to bed and leave him to watch over her till she fell asleep but she didn't. Immediately after closing the door, she brought him close and buried her face in his chest and breathed his scent in.

Tom knew this was the right time.

"Will you let me hold you like this forever? Will you let me hold your hand whenever I want and whenever I need to? Will you finally let me love you?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom with her glistening and aching eyes. Her eyes dropped to his slightly quivering lips. Tom didn't hesitate for once and held her closer. Their lips melded together for the first time and there wasn't any sparks or any of those you read from books. There was only warmth and understanding. And acceptance.

When she retreated from his grasp, he embraced her again and held her tighter than ever.

"Yes. Only to you, Tom, the man I pray to God to every night. To the only boy who has been able to put my exhausted heart to rest. It has been and always will be a yes."

leave a like or a reblog!! I LOVE FEEDBACK PLS TELL ME WHERE I WENT WRONG OR WHAT U LIKED!! :+ ))

#tom holland #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #quackson

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maribricklove · 6 years

Text

Trapped Under Ice - Part 7

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Platonic!Reader, John Winchester (mentioned),

Summary: Imagine being an old hunting friend of Sam’s (and something more) from before he went to college that he thought was dead, and while coincidentally working on the same case you were, you run into each other again. Astonished to see you after almost twenty years, Sam tries to figure out how you survived, but you don’t want to relive the pain and terror of how you were separated.

Word Count: 1346

Warnings: Implied PTSD (No disrespect to people with PTSD. Just something for the character), fluff, angst, eventual blood, gore, death, mild swearing.

Prompt: None

Disclaimers: I do not own anything from CW, Warner Brother’s, any of the photos in this collage, or you. This is a work of pure fiction -obviously.

Series Masterlist

Reader’s POV

The rays of the bright, yellow sun hurt my eyes as they streamed through the window of the motel. The scratchy sheets were warm, yes, but they were irritating. The only comfort I found laying there was him. Being with Sam, his arm draped over my waist, his slow, steady breath on my neck. I could faintly hear his heartbeat as I lightly pressed my head against his chest. I couldn’t help but smile as I took in his scent: old books, beer, gun powder, and hints of green apple body wash. It was all déjà vu for me.

Sweet memories of the past played in my mind. Memories of being in his arms, hearing his heart, feeling his breath. The most vivid memory is us at the dance.

Flashback

There I was, in the motel bathroom, getting dressed for an occasion I had only dreamed of going to. The winter formal was the talk of the school for the past two weeks. All the popular girls went out to go buy their dresses together, get their hair and nails done, and get pretty jewelry and shoes to go with their dresses. Me? I had Dean and not even one hundred dollars to buy all of my stuff for their dance, but I didn’t care. I was going to the dance with Sam, and I couldn’t ask for much more.

My dress was a deep purple ball gown style that went down to right above my knees with rhinestones scattered across the bodice, and the skirt was made of a loose tulle fabric. I put my (h/c) hair up in a loose bun and let down a couple small pieces on both sides of my face. I put on light makeup, just a little grey eyeshadow and some rose pink lip gloss. For jewelry, I wore my mother’s heart pendant necklace that my dad gave to her when they started dating and my diamond earrings that he gave to me for my thirteenth birthday.

“He would be proud of you, you know,” I heard from behind me. Dean stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Your dad.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” I retorted as I started cleaning up my bathroom. “Do I really look that nice?”

“Are you kidding? You’re beautiful. Sam’s going to be speechless when he sees you.”

And he was. Sam was literally stuttering when I walked out of the bathroom in all my glory. I think he tried to tell me that I looked beautiful as he gave me my corsage with small purple orchids and baby’s breath. I couldn’t hold back my smile as his hazel eyes kept looking into my (e/c) ones.

“Thanks, Sam. You look very handsome.”

“Well, he should. He’s a Winchester. It’s in our genes.”

“Yeah, maybe not yours,” Sam retorted. I chortled as Dean gave Sam a bitch face.

“Come, on you two. Let’s get you to the dance before I leave you here.”

Okay, now, there may have been a bit more banter between the brothers before we all got into the Impala, but I didn’t hear any of it because I was too focused on how I was actually going to a school dance with Sam Winchester. After two years of hiding my feelings from him, he finally knew, and we were going on what could technically be called our first date. I was terrified, but at the same time, I was at ease because I knew that Sam would be there with me the whole time, and that was all that mattered.

When we got to the school gymnasium where the dance was being held, Sam tried really hard to be a perfect gentleman and open doors for me, make sure my arm was wrapped around his as he escorted me to the party, and always made sure that I was having fun, but he didn't really seem to want to dance. Finally, I just took the initiative to ask the important question of the night.

“Would you like to dance?” The second the last syllable left my mouth, Sam looked at me, stunned that he didn’t ask me that first.

“Sure-I-I mean… Yes.” He stood from his chair and offered me his hand, and we walked out onto the dance floor. Suddenly, a new song starts playing. Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” What are the chances? Sam placed his left hand on my waist and held my right hand in his left, and we started swaying to the sweet melody. His embrace filling my heart with joy. I was actually dancing with Sam. I mean, we’ve danced together before, just never like this. So intimate, so sweet, so… romantic.

As the song went on, I felt the urge to close a gap between us, so I laid my head on his chest. At first, I was so embarrassed, I wanted to stop, but I was already to far into it, I couldn’t stop now. Suddenly, I felt Sam lay his chin on my head. We were so close that I could hear his heartbeat, I could feel his breath, and all of my troubles melted away. We couldn’t help falling deeper in love that night. As the song ended, I lifted my head off his chest and we just looked at each other. We looked deep into each other’s eyes, and the moment seemed to last forever.

Before we knew it, the dance was over, and Dean was waiting for us outside. Dean kept asking if we kissed or made out, and our answer was the same every time. “No, Dean.” But he wouldn’t drop it. The whole ride back to the motel was excruciating because I wanted to kiss Sam, but I didn’t want to do it while Dean was right there. I never wanted the night to end on a depressing note, but I guess no matter how hard we tried, there was nothing we could have done to change it.

We returned to the motel, and Sam escorted me back to my room and gave me a hug goodnight. “I had fun tonight, Sam.”

“Me too. Thank you for making it fun, Y/N,” Sam replied with a soft smile. “Well, goodnight.

“’Night, Sam.”

Suddenly as I as bout to close the door, Sam launched from where he was standing in the doorway and crashed his lips against mine. My heart seemed to leap out of my chest as Sam caressed my cheek with his soft hands, and I melted into his touch. I reciprocated and placed my hands on the sides of his face, this kiss different from our last. It was gentle, yet still a passion lied underneath it all, screaming our feelings for each other to hear, and we both felt as though a weight had been lifted off our shoulders.

After what seemed like forever but felt like an instant, Sam backed away but still embracing me as if he never wanted to let me go. He whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night. I just didn’t want to make it awkward.”

“Yeah. Me too.” I was still shocked. I never thought Sam could be so bold. He was so sweet tonight, but just now, he was so passionate, so loving, so… romantic.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

End of Flashback

I can’t help but wonder how our relationship would have ended up if he hadn’t gone through with the kiss that night, but I will never know.

As I lay here in Sam’s arms once again, I feel for the first time in almost twenty years, love. Our hearts beating for each other, our hands holding onto the physical being that love has possessed, a possession that not even the most powerful talisman can exorcise. I couldn’t help but wish that the moment would never end. I couldn’t help but fall in love with Sam all over again.

It’s the sweet memory of his embrace that keeps me going, not the medication, because as cliché as it sounds, love has healed me. Love has been driving force that keeps me from going into remission. Yes, I still have my nightmares, but their power is nothing compared to my love for Sam Winchester.

Part eight

Here it is. Part 7. It took me a lot longer than I wanted to get it out, but I did it. Thank you all for being so patient. I hope you like it. Feel free to message me, or send me requests. I need more stimulation so I can be inspired to write more. I love you all so much, and I hope you have a fantastic day.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam x y/n #sam x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction

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sincerelykhim · 6 years

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divine 05

description; You’ve made a terrible deal with the one and only Devil; Taehyung after your almost-tragic death. Little did you know it would lead you to life in Hell.

Pairings: Devil!Taehyung x reader

Genre: Romance/ Angst

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | bonus

에이미: The idea of this story may not be suitable for all audiences as it is not Biblically correct; read at your own risk. There is a little bit of Jungkook in this one! It’s been a lonnnnnggggg time but I hope I’ve still got this. Enjoy and cry me a river~

MASTERLIST

There was no doubt that he had been more than terrified when he ascended down from Heaven; glorious wings -black, and his heart -heavy. And there was no doubt that you wouldn't have had a clue as to who he was, or why he coming to see you. .

December always brought on flashbacks; these scattered memories that don't seem like mine continuously strobed in my mind. Were they real events? Do I have amnesia? They seemed far too real to be fictional.

'I keep seeing this man...no....I think he's the Devil.' My eyes flicked to the ticking clock in the consultant room as my head rested on the arm of the chaise lounge, 'I feel like I know him very well.' Then I realise what I said sounded mildly disturbing. I sprung from the chair to sit up straight, 'Wait! That sounded really bad -I'm not in a Satanic cult or anything like that!'

My therapist just smiled, 'That's alright,' I knew what he was going to repeat next, 'This conversation is confined to us only; I'm not allowed to speak of my patient's matters.' His eyes moved back down to the piece of paper on his clipboard, 'Any more flashbacks recently?'

I swung my legs back onto the chair's arm and laid myself down, 'There was one last night...' I reconstructed the images that had been playing in my head several hours ago, 'I think I know where I've been in those flashbacks.' My therapist nodded his head, not looking up from the paper he was scribbling notes on, 'I think I've been in Hell that whole time.'

He finally shot his head up, but this time, I was staring straight ahead into the wall. 'How do you know it's Hell? Can you please describe it to me?' He asked softly, sounding genuinely concerned.

I stared harder into the wall, trying to think of a way of putting the vivid images into words, 'It's...' I pause to rethink my choice of wording, 'It's humid and dark...everything is grey, and...' And I realised that I couldn't describe Hell, 'I can't -I don't know how to put it into words...I'm sorry.'

'No, it's fine.' That was a lie, 'Would you like to try again sometime? Maybe an appointment next...' He flipped through the extensive amount of pages that were surprisingly not popping out of his clipboard, 'Thursday?'

'Yeah...' The seconds of the clock hand seemed to have slowed down for a fleeting second, 'Thursday sounds good.' Swinging my legs off the velvet blue couch, I made my way to the door, 'Thank you.' Although I didn't mean it.

You can hear the pitter-patter of the rain in December crisper and calmer than any other month; my boots carelessly stepped and splashed into puddles that collected in the uneven hollows of the pavement of my street.

My phone rang, 'Yes?' A greeting wasn't necessary from the caller ID.

'How many times this week?' Her voice pooled with worry.

'Mum,' I sigh, contemplating whether to lie or not, '...six.'

'Six?!' I rolled my eyes at her tone; I couldn't see her but I knew she would be running from the kitchen to her lounge -ready to tell my Father, 'Christ! Honey, we have to get this fixed! Y/N, you can not live like this!' She threw herself into panic mode while discussing this topic with my Father for the umpteenth time, 'Christopher, I will not see our daughter like this anymore; I can't. We have to give Dr Bronwin a call tomorrow. This is unhealthy!'

'Mum,' Her pointless rambling overpowered my exhausted voice, 'Mum,' No reply, 'MUM.'

'Yes sweetie,' I could literally hear her brows furrowing from her silence, 'What is it?'

'I'm going to go now,' I stated as politely as I can. She tried to butt in but I bet her to it, 'If you get the appointment with Dr Bronwin; fine, I'll go...just text me the time and the address.'

Sliding the phone back into the pocket of my coat, I resumed in getting lost in my own thoughts. What if this was real and not some drastic illusion my mind was making up? No one would believe me anyway; as much as my Mother loves me, she'll silently back off when the psychiatrist stamps the seal of approval to formally diagnose me with delusional disorder.

Maybe I wasn't seeing the right people...

'Are you serious about this?' Jungkook sat opposite me in the booth of a small coffee shop, 'You know how dangerous this could turn out to be?'

'Really?' I slid him a cutout of the address, 'You can't be serious right? You really believe in all that hulu voodoo Satanic shit?'

'What, I just happened to very careful.' He read over the advertisement, 'Do you want me to come with you?'

'I'm okay.' I answered unconvincingly as his brows furrowed deeper, 'I can handle it.'

He continued to strike a deal with me, 'How about I'll stand outside the door just in case anything unexpected happens?' He slides the piece of paper back to me.

I scoff jokingly at him, 'You think she'll rape me or something?'

Jungkook's face hardened immediately, 'Don't.'

'Fine,' I downed the last bit of my tea, 'Monday, ten: thirty, and don't be late.'

The black SUV rolled into the richer area of Seoul when I sensed an uneasy feeling breathing down my neck. My hairs rose, 'Actually...,' I turned to Jungkook in the driver's seat, 'could you come in with me? I'm getting a bad feeling.'

His doe-eyes stared back at mine before he started to process what I had asked of him, 'Yeah, no problem.'

Despite the rich exterior of the neighbourhood, I could quite literally see the charcoal grey smoke that lingered around the particular house...it was a familiar grey smoke... It didn't just linger, it laughed sinisterly; devouring the building in a thunderstorm of wickedness.

'You alright?' Jungkook parked us across the house, 'You don't look so good.'

I tried to laugh it off with a joke, 'When do I ever?' Not giving him the chance to argue back -I opened my door -unready for whatever hid behind those walls, 'Come on, I already smell Satan making tea for us.'

'Do you see that?' I pointed at the grey veil surrounding the house.

Jungkook stared back at me with his doe-eyes again, 'The house?' He couldn't see it.

I shook it off, 'Yea, it's hideous.'

Walking across the lawn, Jungkook caught up with my nervously fast-paced steps, 'You can't lie you know, I can tell when you're nervous.'

I kept silent as I grabbed his hand.

He stayed that way too.

Luna; despite her name, was middle-aged, hippie-looking Satanist who bore serious frown lines that cut deep into her skin. Her teeth had already stained a yellow hue and her grey hairs already started to thin; it showed whenever she turned her head too fast -you could see the bald patched hidden at the back of her skin. She almost looked undead.

Laying down a set of cards that were lavishly decorated with paintings of demons and tokens, Luna's eyes seemed to have rolled up to meet mine, 'Pick whenever you hear it screaming at you.'

I look hesitantly back at Jungkook who was sitting on a deep violet, velvet couch and then back at the deck of cards; waiting for it to scream out to me.

'How long is this procedure-' Jungkook uncrossed his legs as he looked to Luna for an answer before he was cut off by my spastic screaming.

When it did happen it wasn't a scream at all -it was a shattering screech that rung and panned from the left ear to the right; piercing my eardrums with an aching pain.

'God! Oh God! That one!' I pointed feverously at the card that sat in the centre, 'Make it stop!' But it wouldn't stop. It couldn't stop.

'Christ!' I attempted to cover my ears to muffle the intensifying volume, 'Make it fucking stop!' I crouched to apply more pressure to my ears, 'Make it stop!'

Jungkook bolted from his seat only to be stopped by Luna, 'She needs to touch the card.'

'We'll she obviously can't,' He snapped back; fuming with worry, 'What are you doing to her?'

'She needs to touch the card.' She repeats.

Jungkook was enraged by her lack of care for my suffering, 'Well she fucking can't, okay?! Look at her! I swear if you try-'

'She needs to touch the card!' Luna speaks out more urgently this time.

'Make it stop!' I ran myself into the wall as tears started to form from the pain, 'Stop!' I sobbed.

Jungkook shoved past Luna's smaller figure to hold my head in his hands, 'Y/N!,' I squeezed my eyes shut; unable to process any sound other than the unexplained frequency, 'Damn fuck it! Y/N! Focus!'

'Make it stop,' my voice was weak from the screaming and the crying, 'Make it stop...' my line of vision blurred and refocused and then, blurred and refocused again, 'Please,' I placed my hands over his, 'Kook, make it stop.'

I didn't only mean for the murderous noise to stop but also the dreadful nostalgia that came along with it. I couldn't pinpoint what about the entire experience was so familiar...it just was. The smoke, the cards, the velvet, the scent, the house...the beast that fed upon this house...I was caught, dazed...afraid.

So when Jungkook forcefully pried my hand away from his to then place it on the card I had picked, I didn't fight back. I let it happen. .

'It happened,' disappointment washed over Micheal's face as he spoke through the phone, 'She did it.'

'Did you see her do it?' Taehyung's voice rang through the other line.

'I'm standing outside, of course, I couldn't see her do it,' he ran a hand through his gold locks, 'But her screaming did stop so...'

'Fuck.'

Micheal began to back away from the demon-possessed home, 'What now? She'll know who you are, she'll remember what happened, won't she hate you-'

'Shut up already,' Taehyung hissed harshly -stopping Micheal from tormenting him any further, 'Fuck off, you had one job.'

Micheal's smug grin was his only reply, 'So?' he beckoned him to make a decision, 'What's it going to be? Are you still going to see her?'

Taehyung massaged his temples and sighed, 'Well I don't have a choice, do I?' He paused, 'I'm dying.' .

It was traumatic. Horrific, overwhelming...disgusting.

Everything came back to me like a developing film; motions that were significant from my last one thousand years of existence flickered like shots taken from an old Kodak...everything.

I remembered that fight, I remembered how savage his words were, how much I loved him, how much he broke me; my heart.

I relived that moment.

'What,' he yelled harshly, 'you can't speak now?' He paced in a circle just to return back to where he was, 'I didn't ask for this.' He ran a shaking hand through his hair, 'God damn it.' He breathed out. 'God-FUCK!' His leg swung to kick the chair that sat in one corner of his room.

This was the real Devil; this was what he was like before I came around -angry and resentful.

The chair flew across the room and barreled into the wall -creating a hole, ‘You want me to carry on?!’ He didn’t leave me time to answer, ‘Okay! Fine! On the two hundredth year, I thought about feeding you to the demons so I could clean up the mess I had made!’

His words burnt holes through me -his words that once built me up; ‘So I get the pleasure of seeing you ascend to Heaven,' -tore me down piece by piece; ‘Just LEAVE! How fucking hard is it for you to understand! -I don't give a fuck about your problems, just fucking leave! I don't even know why I spent so much time on you!’

I felt like I was drowning in a murky whirlwind of emotions so clear to understand when they were experienced alone, but suffocating when they were all thrown in at once.

Through a gap in the whirlwind, I could hear Jungkook again; calling me.

'Y/N,' he sat on the Persian carpet rug with my head in his lap, 'Has it stopped? Can you hear me?'

If I did hear him, I didn't process it at all. I simply sat up to press my face into his chest; the wash of emotions were still heavily present, 'I just wanna go home.'

'Out! Out you witch!' Luna burst, suddenly angry after she picked up to look at the picture on the card.

She threw it by my side, 'Satan killer!' .

Forty-six missed calls, a hundred and six unread messages, and one voicemail.

I picked up my phone that sat lonely under the mountains of french fires packets. 'Dial two to hear your latest voicemail-You have one voicemail from;' the monotone voice recited a familiar number, 'zero-two-one-five-six-eight-six-four-one-five.'

'Y/N, it's been two weeks since that reading,' Jungkook's voice sounded drained, 'Come on, weren't you the one who didn't believe in all this?' He sighed, 'What really happened? It's like it's dragged you into a depressive state. Y/N, it's not just me who's worrying; your Mum, your Father...even your therapist is starting to worry.' He paused to steady himself, 'Just...I don't know, call. We can figure this out together.' And then the line went flat.

I didn't want to call back or reply; they would've never have believed me, I didn't want to call and pretend that everything was fine because I had no more energy to lie; I was emotionally drained, it felt like I had to relive one thousand years of emotional turmoil in a few short minutes -in fact -that was exactly what happened.

Tuesday welcomed a storm that brewed steadily a few miles from my apartment, 'Can I get barbeque swirls on those?' I repeat my order through the phone, 'How much was the total again?'

'That'll be twenty-five dollars and the barbeque swirls are fifty cents for each pizza, Miss.' The receptionist chirped too vibrantly for a rainy day.

'Yea, okay.'

'We'll be fifteen minutes away, Miss.'

'Sure.'

If fifteen minutes seemed like forever, I was more than glad to wait for eternity because when I opened the door to my apartment; I automatically wished I hadn't.

'Hey old friend,' His eyes were still held the same fire, but the rest of him seemed...worn. His crisp suit was replaced with a white pullover and a pair of black jeans, and he held my pizza's in one hand, 'The delivery guy said it was for you.'

I was still frozen from the sudden affirmation that everything I saw a couple of weeks ago was true.

He seemed to act like our fight never happened as he gave me a warm smile; something he never did, 'May I come in.' Not waiting for my answer, he closed the door behind him.

I didn't know how to feel, the only thing I wanted to do was to embrace him; he looked tired and beaten but my head wouldn't let me, it reminded me of where we had left off. After he placed the boxes on my kitchen counter, I finally spoke up, 'Get out,' It was colder than I had anticipated it to sound, 'I can't do this, not now.'

'That's it?' He was obviously upset with my tone, 'Fine, you have every right to be angry with me but just give me chance to tell you why I'm here for.'

I scoffed, sickened at the fact that he was playing this fight like a children's game, 'Angry!' My anger turned into frustration and then, into tears, 'I'm more than angry with you! I hate you!'

The Devil's face softened along with his voice, 'You don't mean that.'

I let a tear slip from my eyes...then another...and another, 'No! I do!' I back stepped as he tried to reach out to me, 'I hate you for playing with my feelings, I hate you for hurting me, I hate you because you put me here in this position! I-'

'Y/N, listen to me.' He grabbed my hand and it physically stung.

I swatted it away out of pain, 'Don't touch me.' I hissed at him as distanced our bodies even more, 'I hate you for cursing me!'

'You're not anymore.' He seemed to have found a second of silence to squeeze his line in, causing me to shut up.

My eyes fluttered and my heart constricted; it seemed to have cramped up. I wanted to, I desperately wanted to crash my lips on his and feel his warmth again. Despite his nauseating words, the thought of him still felt like home.

Yet, I let the overwhelming emotions take control, 'Is that all? Are you expecting a 'thank you?' because that's never going to happen. Getting my life back was the least you could've done.' My words reflected the Devil of the past; stabbing into him and dragging the knife along the wound to tear it even more.

But he didn't lose it, he stayed frighteningly calm and what happened next took my soul and crushed it in its palms.

His hand came up to hold my damp cheek, he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, 'Shhhh, don't cry anymore okay?' That's when I realised that he had been crying the whole as well. His voice was as soft as my favourite lullaby, but his words pulled at my heart, 'It's all my fault alright? I blame me too, okay? I was stupid and it's all my fault.'

I sniffled as his hand snaked to the back of my head and he pulled me into his chest as I cried; he was willingly showing me affection for the first time in a long time.

I wasn't wrong; he still did feel like home, but when I recollected myself, I foolishly told him to; 'Get out.' It was a whisper, but it was enough.

Before he left, he proceeded to kiss the top of my head, 'I love you.'

I shouldn't have hidden the tear that slid down my face at his confession...I should've told him I loved him too.

☽

Next chapter: 06

#bts v #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #tae #taehuyng bts #bts scenarios #bts wings #bts jungguk #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #taehyung fanfic #lucifer #bts fanfic #divine

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once-upon-a-ouat · 6 years

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OUAT Rewatch 1x21 “An Apple Red as Blood”

Red alert for the amazing work this episode did in connecting all the previous episodes and giving us the big picture. In one way or another all the stories we saw throughout the season connected either in the past or present sections of the episode and built up the final conflict for the last episode.

From the first flashback we saw David and Snow’s enemies join forces (more or less) thus making the obstacles between the two even greater and harder to get through. And yet, neither of them was ready to give up although Snow was a bit discouraged when she found out she had broken into George’s palace for nothing. I loved the idea of the mirror both connecting them (“Now we’re making two reflections into one” (Sorry, I had to)) and separating them just like I loved the fact that David felt that something was wrong. It was as if he felt her soul leave her body and go to the Netherworld. We saw that nothing can really separate those two because the bond between them transcends everything you can throw at it no matter if it is a physical threat or magic.

It was awesome to see how the friends that Snow made throughout the season were there for her and had her back throughout the entire episode while Regina was doing everything on her own. The differences between the two were clear as day during their scene together. I loved the fact that we were given a reminder that Snow was also angry at Regina for killing her father but it was immediately followed by her desire to stop the feud between them. It showed the contrast between them (seeing that Regina refused) but was also a throwback to 1x16 and served to remind us that Snow and Regina are that different because they’re just in different stages of their lives. Regina has already lost her loved one while Snow still had hers and she chose to protect him by sacrificing herself. It’s ironic really because Regina thought she had walked Snow into a situation where she lost no matter what she did but by sacrificing herself, Snow actually gave both David and herself their best chances and he woke her up.

The scene with the fight was a bit unrealistic and unbelievable to me. The fairies were buzzing like a cloud of insects and it was rather comical (that’s not my problem with the scene; I kinda liked it actually). I’m wondering if Grumpy meant the Blue Fairy when he said he knew someone who could help and owed him a favor. Was that her way of repaying him for convincing him to break up with Nova?

I loved the way the episode opened. Regina’s dream was a vivid peek into her subconsciousness. It was good to see how closely the Curse and Henry are tied into her mind which explains her desire to keep the Curse intact (although a lot of her actions were only performed with her revenge in mind and with little to no regard for Henry and his happiness). In her first scene with Gold we saw how far she was ready to go when pushed by her despair (which is exactly where Gold wanted her since 1x02) and that’s only furthered in the next scenes between her and Jefferson. I loved the dynamic between the two in this episode too. This time they were both on the same side, fighting for their children and it was just as interesting as in 1x17. I loved the idea with the card (“Follow the white rabbit”) but I really hated the fact that Regina had to sacrifice the ring from Daniel. By the way, since when can the hat open portals to different moments in time? “How to get the Savior to taste my forbidden fruit” though. This was totally intentional on the writers’ part and you can’t convince me otherwise. The second scene between Regina and Gold was interesting. I had the feeling that she went to his shop to brag that she succeeded even without him and also to inform him that his plans would fail. She sounded angry that he betrayed her and wanted to punish him for that. “Then you can pay it.” If only, Regina, if only. I loved how Regina seemingly won in both worlds and with the same apple nonetheless. It was a great idea to have the two worlds ‘touch’, considering the fact that the Curse will break in the next episode. And what seemed like Regina’s victory here will turn out to be her defeat in both realms.

Emma was faced with the ultimate decision in this episode. I loved the scene between her and Mary Margaret because we got to see how far the relationship between them has come and also have Mary Margaret knock some sense into Emma. I loved the conversation with Archie and how badly Emma wanted to hear that she was what was best for Henry but even when that didn’t happen, she still considered carefully what she heard and made a decision based on it. I loved that Emma was once again ready to sacrifice her own happiness for Henry’s. It was a parallel of what Snow did for David in the Enchanted Forest and gave us a hint to what will happen in the next episode. Emma and Henry’s scenes were heartbreaking. You see how much Henry believed in her and how little faith she had in herself in contrast. “You really don’t believe” just broke my heart. I really loved the fact that Emma was ready to take a bite of the turnover to prove to Henry it was harmless but he was faster. It’s a little strange that she didn’t rush to his side immediately after he fell though. I feel like they only wrote it that way so that they could have that dramatic last shot, which is really pissing me off.

I loved the contrast they made between Regina and Emma. They built it up throughout the entire episode. Emma got to interact with Henry while Regina only had him in her dream (and she lost him in it too). The other people they interacted with also set up a clear difference between them. Emma turned for help to her friends, the people she trusted the most (considering the fallout between her and August in the previous episode), while Regina turned to those who would help her in exchange for something that they wanted (seeing that she doesn’t really have friends). And of course the scene between the two of them established it even better but I’ll talk about that below.

I loved Archie in this episode. He was trying to be as objective as possible and not take any sides. He acknowledged the fact that Emma’s Henry’s mom but also reminded her that so is Regina. “Your arrival has awoken a sleeping dragon.” Smooth, writers. That’s another parallel but I’ll talk about it in my next review since it becomes more obvious in the next episode. I loved the fact that Archie firmly stated that Regina would never hurt Henry (ironically, he almost died because of her turnover, but that was never her intention) and how Henry agreed when Emma told him that Regina would take really good care of him. Like I said in my first review, for me there has never been any doubt that Regina loved Henry and I was glad to hear it confirmed in-verse too.

Henry and August’s conversation was interesting albeit sad. At least now Henry knows for certain that he was right all along. I think that’s very important, considering how hurt he was when he thought Emma believed he was crazy (back in 1x02).

Favorite scene: Regina and Emma’s scene. It reminded me a lot of their ‘reconciliation’ in 1x02 (this whole episode is like a parallel of 1x02) but now we could see what changes they’ve undergone throughout the season. Emma came to terms with the fact that she’s Henry’s mother and she really wants to be in his life and have him by her side but she still decided to leave in order to make him happy. Regina on the other hand was more desperate than ever to get rid of her but this time her approach was a a lot smarter and sneakier, which is the only development we see in her. “We both know that the world where I’m not in his life no longer exists, and there’s no one who can do anything about that.” You could practically hear Regina thinking “We’ll see about that.” If anything, that sentence only made her desire to get rid of Emma stronger and pushed her over the edge of despair, which ultimately led to her defeat. I don’t know about the turnovers, but the irony in that show is delicious.

Least favorite scene: The first flashback. I’m a little disappointed by how they dealt with George’s character. Here his actions are still understandable but seeing that he got what he wanted all along, he should’ve stopped chasing David. Yet, in the next season we see that that’s not the case. It’s pissing me off because George went from a villain you can understand and sympathize with to a manic clown who was only going after David for the sake of revenge. If they wanted to have further use for him, they should’ve given him new motivation but that didn’t happen. The other thing that annoyed me in this scene was the typical villain mindset of “If I kill them now, it won’t be painful enough. So let’s just keep them alive and give them a chance to defeat me.” Yeah, great idea, Regina. If she’d just let George go through with the execution, David’s death would’ve ruined Snow and she would’ve suffered far worse than she did while under the sleeping curse. But no.

Favorite line: “You may not believe in the Curse... or in me. But I believe in you.” - Henry to Emma

This line melted my heart. After all the times Emma refused to believe him, he still believes in her. This is honestly the cutest thing ever.

Least favorite line: “I destroyed her happiness, and now she wants to destroy mine.” - Snow to Red

That’s true but how did Snow know it if she didn’t know that Daniel was dead? It doesn’t make any sense. If she didn’t know he was dead, than what did she mean with that line? I hate it when the show can’t be consistent even in the boundaries of a single episode.

It was a good episode with a lot of parallels and contrasts. The feud over Henry reached its peak just like both Emma and Regina’s desperation did. The contrast between the two was emphasized throughout the entire episode despite them only having one scene together. The story in the past is rapidly approaching its climax too. I had a few minor annoyances with the episode but nothing really important. Next time we’ll see if the magic ends when the Curse is broken or if it’s only the beginning of a spellbinding journey.

#ouat rewatch #once upon a time #ouat #season 1 #1x21 #an apple red as blood #operation end

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13rw--imagines-blog · 7 years

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Zach Dempsey Imagine-

Prompt: If you're busy you can do this later, but I was hoping if you can make a Zach Dempsey imagine based off the song "Same to you" by The Vamps?? Thank you in advance!! Love your imagines btw!!! 💕💕❤❤

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,999

A/N: Sorry this is like super angsty and probably the worst thing I have ever written. Like, I don’t know why I wrote it like that. But I hope you like it nonetheless! Thank you for the request anon!

I know you can't sleep, it's half three, and you're still up Get on the group text about your ex 'Cause I messed it up Heard you moved on, well that's a lie

You sigh, looking out the window to see the light polluted stars fill the sky. You turn on your side to try to keep from getting captivated by that night. The night Zach Dempsey claimed you as his by just a look. You hated thinking about him like this, you hated seeing your friend and missing their touch. You shake your head, trying to clear your head. How dare he make you think like this, the way he taunts you without being next to you, leaving you a mess in every way. You get on your phone, pulling open the messages as you try to think back to your ex. The boy who was supposed to melt your heart in every way, but couldn’t because of your mistake. ‘I miss him.’ You send in the text. ‘He loved me and I lost him’ you send after. ‘Sorry, who are we talking about? Justin or Zach?’ One of your friends send, regret filling your mind as you read the names next to each other. ‘Justin. It was always Justin’ you send. ‘Until you moved on’ one pointed out. ‘Did I?’ you send, a sigh leaving your lips as you turn off your phone.

It’s half past three and you can’t sleep with the thoughts of him dancing in your mind. The way his hand felt in yours, the way he gently ran his thumb over your knuckles like everything would be okay. His hold, the way his hugs were tight to make you feel less alone. His lips on yours, how eager but gentle it all felt. He played with your heart in all the senses and you couldn’t let go of that boy. You finally fall asleep, images of him playing through your head like they were a movie playing on a screen. Vivid and alive.

Leaving you wishing you had him that night.

Make you feel free Open your eyes and you will see All of the awkward situations Holding his hand you wish was mine

*Flashback*

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as you saw him. “Hey Dempsey” you say, gently bumping into him to catch his attention. “Hey (Y/L/N)” he smiled at you. You bite your lip gently as you look at him. “You know I hate when you do that” you say. “Do what?” he smiles. “Use my last name to say hello, like Dempsey works, but my last name? Not as much” you say. He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re crazy” he chuckles. “You’ll always be (Y/L/N) to me.” he teases with a smile. You roll your eyes playfully. “Wow, I’m swooning” you tease.

He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at it. He always hid the way he laughed, looking down and acting shy about it. You would lie if you said you didn’t love it. You were about to say something when you felt a hand hold yours, startling you a bit as you look over to see the boy who should have filled your head. “Hey babe” Justin smiles, kissing your cheek. “Oh, hey babe” you smile back. He smiles and you watch as Zach bites his lip, looking at the two of you. “Dempsey” Justin said quietly, looking at him. “Justin” he says back, forcing a smile. “Well, I was actually just about to go, but I’ll see you around” he says, looking at you.

You bite your lip as you nod and watch him go. He walks past you, accidently brushing your hand as he does. You felt some chills run down you as it did, and in that moment you imagine Justin's hand was his. Justin had a firm hold on you, it was soft and didn’t leave you missing his touch every time he left. Zach however, he sent butterflies in your stomach with one look, and a simple touch just made it all explode in you.

You look at Justin, and watch as he smiles at you. The familiar look of love in his eyes, the look he always wished he got from you. You smile gently and kiss him gently, trying to let that be enough for that moment. It was never enough.

Don't have to be heavy, but you can't pretend we can stay friends Every street sign I drive by, it takes me back Right to the bedroom, your perfume, little black dress You say you love me while your hands wrapped 'round my neck. Do you miss me yet?

‘Ready to talk?’

That was the text he sent every other day. Trying to act like your life wasn’t altered by the way things happened that night. It was a normal party, drunk teenagers dancing together acting like being young and careless was the only way to life. You had just gotten in a fight with Justin. He had gotten jealous over the mutual friend you wanted to call yours. You fought that he had never meant that way to you, but you knew you were lying.

You loved Justin. That was a true statement. You wanted the best for him and you wanted to help him know that he could have a better home, a life where he was happy. But you couldn’t give him that life, not with Zach around. Justin knew this, and he hated Zach for it. You hated Zach for it, but you knew Justin deserved better.

Following the fight you went and got drunk. You made sure that you had your best dress on that night, letting it help you feel sexier. You stayed at the drink table and let the alcohol take over. It made you forget what made you lie. It made you forget that mistakes could still be made on nights like tonight. It made you forget what made you wish Justin was yours.

‘I know you miss me’

He sends, knowing it makes you think back to that night. The black dress did you more justice than you expected. You joined a game of seven minutes of heaven, and somehow ended with Zach. The kiss that was supposed to be subtle, became passion. His hands trailing your body, working its way up your thighs. All of it came to memory. His lips never left your body, trailing down your neck as he whispered sweet nothings he couldn’t keep to himself. You melted in front of him, not caring what damage this would bring to your previous relationship.

You let him take you home after that. You told him the house was empty and invited him in and the night wasn’t filled with sleep. He captured you in many ways. The cuddles, the talking, the way he played with your hair because he knew you loved it. They way he moved your bodies together. It was everything to have him there.

You admitted you loved him that night, that you made a mistake going for his best friend and you only wanted him. He admitted it too, and for the first time in a long time you believed him. You believed those three empty words that held so much meaning.

But then came the storm.

Justin came in to surprise you with a date, but in reality you figured he needed someone to talk to. He saw you two, laying in bed cuddling, talking about a future that couldn’t come true.

Justin was yelling, maybe even crying as he told you that he knew it was true. That he was never anything but a game to you, and it hurt to hear him say that. Zach tried to fight back, trying to protect you or maybe just trying to Justin that it was fine. Either way you knew it wasn’t fine.

That memory was always ruined by the end and you knew you deserved it to be, and it almost made you miss Zach less.

Now I can't sleep, it's past three, and I'm still up Got on the group text about my ex 'Cause you messed me up You heard I moved on, well that's a lie Well that's a lie Does it feel the same to you?

You and Zach tried to maintain a relationship, but the guilt took over the love in it. You wished it could have been different, maybe a simple no would have changed everything but you didn’t know.

You stayed together for about 2 months before you finally ended it. You couldn’t see him and not regret the pain Justin was in when he left. However, Zach is persistent and texts you every day to tell you he misses you and asks you if you miss him too.

That is until there was another girl with his arm around her waist.

You walked into school one day, looking around like you always do for one of your friends. When you looked over at the set of lockers that you and Zach used to always talk at, you found a blonde girl you knew as a cheerleader. You thought it was odd that she was in your meeting place for Zach and basically all your friends, but it didn’t take long to figure out why she was there.

You watched as Zach walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her gently and making her laugh. Your heart broke at the sight. He smiled the way he use to smile at you, and you watched his lips form the words ‘I love you’

Betrayal was the first thing you felt, but soon regret filled after. You didn’t even realize your eyes were filling with tears until he looked at you and concerned crossed his face. You quickly ran to the bathroom to clean yourself up and you texted your friends to meet you there.

You loved Zach, you really loved him and you can’t believe you let him go. Now he was happy with another girl, and you were still alone.

You decided to go home after that, losing the energy to be around people that day. You felt ridiculous for being so sad, but your first love just broke your heart and you weren’t sure how to cope with it.

You laid in bed, watching whatever Netflix had to offer and you couldn’t find a good time to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, images of him filled your mind and that night they weren’t as welcoming as before.

It was about three in the morning when your phone lit up with a text. It was from Zach.

‘You may not believe this, but I still miss you. I miss the way you look at me and the smile that always formed. I miss the way your eyes lit up at something you loved. I miss the way your hand held mine, and the way you formed into me when we cuddled. I miss you. And I know you don’t think I do, and I know you feel I moved on to someone new but the problem is that isn’t true. You fill my every thought, and I always hope that one day I will go to the lockers and find you. But every day I waited for you to text back, to give me a sign in anyway, I always got a blank. I miss you. I still love you. But I had to move on, or at least try to and I’m sorry for that. But I need to ask you one thing.’

He sends, making you feel the weight of his words become heavier by the second. Your heart was racing at what he would say next. ‘What is it?’ you send, biting your lip to refrain the tears that were starting to set.

‘Did it feel the same to you?’

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