#maybe ill make like character sheets for them later but my head hurts so maybe later 👍

[aminiatureworld]

Distance II

Characters: Ningguang, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,605

Warnings: None

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: Though Ningguang is hands down one of my favorite characters I find her surprisingly difficult to write. She just seems so much more in control than I am. Perhaps though that makes writing her in conflict all the more rewarding.

Ningguang

Sometimes Ningguang wondered if she wasn’t accidentally proving her detractors right by not caring.

Being the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing it’d be nearly impossible for her not to hear the rumors that circulated about her, the not-so-quiet whisperings of people who found her too cold, too callous, too closed off to have any genuine feelings. Nor were such incidents limited to the murmurings of coworkers or the blunt admissions of Keqing. Ningguang had long ago lost track of the times she’d passed someone on the street, only to find someone proclaiming how unfit she was to represent Liyue, she who had no genuine feelings.

Of course, Ningguang couldn’t truly complain. Even if people saw her as aloof and shallow, she was still given the respect due to her position. Nor could the privilege and power of being the Tianquan be overstated. Really, being isolated in such a way was just the price she had to pay for her success. What did it really matter what the general population thought of her personally as long as they respected her competency? Besides, she didn’t have time for close interpersonal relationships.

Perhaps it was this thinking that had ruled her for so long that made you so special in her eyes. Though you would later admit that you had worried your feelings had been one-sided, Ningguang had been just as captivated with you as you of her. Incredibly competent at your job, as devoted to Liyue as Ningguang was, and deeply empathetic on top of it, how could Ningguang not grow somewhat infatuated with you? She had never expected the same emotion on your side, just as you had never expected such a thing of her; not because you saw Ningguang as made of ice or stone, it was merely the natural nervousness that always came with love. Perhaps that was the part of your confession that Ningguang appreciated the most. To you she was just as normal as anyone else, with a heart made out of the same flesh as all the other residents of Liyue.

Yet being in a relationship had proved a much greater challenge than Ningguang expected, and in the place one was least likely to think about. Her love for you was never in question, the devotion you two shared towards one another was something spelled out plainly in front of her eyes. Nor did she worry about providing for you, or you for her. Being both high ranking members of the Liyue Qixing, the two of you were incredibly lucky, and finances and worries about saving was never something that Ningguang had to lose sleep over. No, it was none of those normal things that Ningguang had to worry about, instead it was herself.

She had expected that all the whisperings about her emotional capabilities would have left once the word of you two being partners got around. Instead the whispers seemed all the greater, swirling around her at every turn. Though logically that could not be the case, Ningguang found that logic ultimately played a very little role in the matter of love and affection. Even when she wasn’t haunted by the whispers of others she found herself more and more facing her own words. How could someone so closed off and reserved be a good partner, her mind seemed to whisper, how could she possibly give you the affection and warmth you deserved? Ningguang never told you these thoughts of course, her anxiety seizing her whenever the idea so much as passed through her head. Still those thoughts lingered.

And then work got busier; well, busier for her at least. For you things seemed to remain about the same, and though Ningguang was somewhat grateful for that – knowing that overworking oneself was a bit of a theme for members of the Liyue Qixing – she still found herself uncomfortable at the new schedule. Now instead of the two of your finishing up at around the same time, it seemed like you always had to hold back and wait for her. It was embarrassing, really; more than that it felt unfair to you.

“Should I reschedule the dinner reservations tonight?” Your question hung over the desk that separated the two of you, paper piled up like a wall between you and her.

“I’m afraid so, I’m sorry darling.” Ningguang offered an awkward smile.

“Don’t be sorry! It’s not your fault that you have so much work. I’ll go down and tell the waitress during lunch break, we should be able to get a refund, and maybe a reschedule. After all, we haven’t been out together in so long.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you leaned over the desk, too blocked by the papers to give her the traditional comfort kiss on her cheek, “you have a very important job, and no one could fault you for it.”

Despite your words Ningguang couldn’t help but feel somewhat chastised. Bowing her head she whispered a soft “thank you”, wondering how much you were hiding your true feelings. Keeping her head mostly down at her work for the rest of the morning the Tianquan was startled by the realization she hadn’t noticed you leaving for lunch.

“Unfortunately I was unable to get a refund,” your apologetic voice floated through the air as you reentered the office, “so I was wondering whether or not I could bring a friend out to dinner tonight? Of course I would pay for the whole thing myself, and we could still reschedule. Although maybe next time let’s pick a restaurant without an all-or-nothing view on payment.”

“A good idea about the payments,” Ningguang smiled awkwardly, ill at ease despite your slight laughter, “and of course you may invite a friend out for dinner. I know that we’ll find another time.”

“You’re an absolute darling you know!” You walked around the desk giving Ningguang a fleeting kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“How could I not be when I’m the reason we can’t go out this evening?”

“Well, I don’t know. Some people aren’t so nice about those things you know.”

“I hope to never be involved with those people.”

“You’re right about that!” You laughed, bringing a small smile to Ningguang’s face. Still, a part of her felt leaden, her embarrassment and guilt weighing her down like a rock.

Afterwards it seemed that a bit of a routine had been found in your life. After your work was done and your errands finished you laughed awkwardly, gave Ningguang a short kiss, and went out to spend time with your friends. Not that Ningguang begrudged you the time you spent with others, she wasn’t about to ask you to spend all your time with her, especially when most of it would be spent staring at her reading. Still it was hard not to see these continual outings as further proof of how little affection Ningguang was giving you, how much she was failing at providing you all the love and emotional support you needed.

Walking down the streets to your house Ningguang took in the sight of Liyue in the evening. It was her favorite time of day; the lanterns turned the normally drab grey stones into burnisheds amber, basking the buildings with a soft orange glow that gave the illusion of perfect domesticity. It was easy to forget the troubles of Liyue in the evening, easy to be wrapped up in the landscape in front of the Tianquan, easy to ignore her troubles. Passing by the docks Ningguang breathed in the scent of a trading city at work. Smells, sights, and conversations mixed together in a familiar dance, lively despite the lateness of the hour.

“Did you see the Tianquan’s partner was out again this evening?”

Ningguang found herself standing perfectly still, unsure if the words that she had just heard weren’t a figment of her exhausted imagination. Turning towards the stalls she was careful to keep her pace as even as possible, hoping that her presence would go largely unnoticed.

“Oh yes, I saw them walking along the shipyard with a few people. You could tell it wasn’t on business.”

“I feel bad for them,” the first voice piped up again, voice heavy with authority, “to have a block of ice as a partner, it must be very difficult.”

“You’re right, the poor dear. Honestly I don’t know why they decided to become partners with such a person as Lady Ningguang, I heard that she was the one confessed to even. Why anyone would actively cultivate such a relationship, I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I. They must be very used to living without affection.”

“You’re probably right, it always ends up that way with those types of relationships.”

Although the conversation showed no signs of ending Ningguang found herself turning around and leaving. The words had felt like a slap in the face, and she felt almost feverish in her wish for the conversation to have never happened.

Once she arrived at your home Ningguang rushed to the bedroom, collapsing onto the soft sheets. You, she realized that she wanted you; wanted to tell you what had just happened, wanted you to assure her it was all false, wanted all this insecurity to go away. And yet, how could she be sure that you weren’t thinking a similar thing as those people Ningguang had overheard? How could she be sure you hadn’t come to the conclusion that she was indeed without feeling. There was only one way to figure it out really, no matter how painful.

“I’m home!” Your voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to Ningguang’s current emotional state.

“Welcome home dear.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, I think I’m taking a bath and going right to bed tonight! You should probably sleep too, you’ve really been overworking yourself!” You chastised, giving Ningguang an impatient sort of smile as you put away your things. Taking a deep breath Ningguang prepared herself.

“Before you do that, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Ask away! Unless you’re asking for me to cook, I think I’m too tired for that.”

“It’s not about cooking. It’s, well, it’s whether this relationship is fulfilling or not to you.”

“What?” The happiness leeched from your voice as you stared at Ningguang.

“I heard some people talking today, saying that I wasn’t a worthy partner, that I was too emotionally detached. I know that you have never expressed such an opinion, but I cannot help but wonder if I’m truly giving you what people want in a relationship. You said yourself that we hardly spend time together anymore, and I know how much you value quality time. As such, I feel that I have to lay out all your options. If you feel that this relationship is no longer viable, then I understand.”

“Ningguang what in Teyvat are you talking about?” You burst out. Swiftly closing the distance between you two, you intertwined your fingers with Ningguang’s. “You don’t really think that I would share the opinion of some people who know nothing about you and us do you?”

“It’s not just them!” Ningguang pointed out. “I’ve heard the same things from colleagues. Besides this wasn’t brought on all of a sudden. For a while now I’ve been wondering if I truly have the capacity to make you happy.”

“Well let me clear that up immediately, the answer is yes.”

You stared into Ningguang’s eyes, expression one of stubborn surety. There was no sense of doubt in your posture or your voice. For the first time in a while Ningguang found herself somewhat calm.

“Let me tell you something Ningguang, relationships aren’t the same for everyone, nor is love. Some people need huge declarations of love, need to always be attached to their partner, need a constant supply of affection. And some need only small gestures, shorter periods of time, a softer form of support. Neither of these are inherently better than the other. Just because we don’t go out to eat every night, just because you place care and effort into your work and choose to spend your time on it, that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you any less, or that your love doesn’t reach me. I’m proud of your work, I’m proud to call my partner the Tianquan; and if other people cannot understand or accept that, then frankly I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” You let out a laugh, throwing your arms around your partner. “My mind is very made up on this. Besides, you’re much more affectionate than you let on.”

It was as if she’d been suddenly freed from a cage, so immediate was the relief that washed over Ningguang. Returning the embrace she sighed softly, overwhelmed by the love and confidence in your words.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me for anything, you would do the exact same for me.”

“Perhaps you’re right, but thank you nevertheless. Thank you.”

“Well then you’re welcome; though I would do anything for the woman I love.”

“I love you too.”

There was nothing more to say.

 Zhongli

“I hope that it ends soon.”

Those words had sent Zhongli spiraling, reeling as the ground crumbled beneath him and he plunged into some dark unknown. How had he gotten here, it didn’t seem to make sense.

He hadn’t wanted to step upon your freedom, to limit you in any way. Though Zhongli wasn’t perhaps the greatest expert on human feelings, he knew that in one way they differed greatly from archons and adepti. Humans always vied for freedom. The freedom to choose, the freedom to do, the freedom to go or stay. While the gods always found any sort of profound change incredibly difficult, an erosion on their power and their influence, humans craved the ways that time waxed and waned, the world with it.

As such he didn’t attempt to put any sort of confinement on your relationship. Being the first human Zhongli had had any meaningful emotional contact with, he was absolutely determined that your relationship should be framed around your needs, which were certainly more demanding as a human being than Zhongli’s could ever be. Not that he ever found himself lacking, indeed it seemed sometimes to the ex-archon as if you were more aware of what his wishes were than he was of yours. When he needed assurance you were there, when something required some sort of explanation or reiteration you were glad to provide it. No matter the time or the place or the setting you were liberal with your love. Zhongli could only hope he provided the same for you.

Perhaps that was why your words surprised him so much. Zhongli knew that your friend was coming over for tea, and had made an effort to leave the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor earlier than usual, much to the annoyance of his pseudo-employer. Though he expect you to be earlier than him, he certainly hadn’t expected your sudden volte-face, the sudden revelation that all was not well.

Not that he could ask about your statement while your friend was visiting, the ex-archon knew that you hated a scene as much as he did, and he doubted he’d be able to get an honest answer out of you with an audience watching. So as he entered, making sure to make as much noise as possible to alert you of his arrival, he tried to bury the sentence in the back of his mind, hoping that it would stay put as long as possible.

Thankfully for Zhongli it is much easier to be patient when one is an immortal former deity. Though time certainly seemed slower than usual, the conversation you and your friend had more difficult to follow than usual, it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. Letting you and your friend chat about anything from work to pets to weather, only interrupting when asked about the tea, Zhongli spent the afternoon turning over your words in his head, and wondering what he was going to say.

Finally the sun dipped behind the buildings, and as the long shadows of evening began to cast themselves down your friend left. Keeping himself as formal as possible during the entire encounter Zhongli let out a soft sigh when the door closed behind them. Even if what was to come was not something he was particularly looking forward to, Zhongli had long ago learned that immediate pain is better than drawn out suffering.

“You were awfully quiet this afternoon.” You pointed out, going to clear up the plates.

“I, I had not noticed. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine, I know that they’re a bit of a talker anyways. Still I was hoping you might say more, my friends already ask me about your reticence, and I don’t want to feed their imaginations.”

“My apologies, I will try to do better.”

“Don’t sweat it really, I’m just rambling.” You smiled as Zhongli began to put away the tea set. “I always love watching you clean the china, it’s so peaceful to watch.”

“I am glad you enjoy it so much,” Zhongli replied, careful to keep his hands from trembling. The conversation loomed ahead of him, dark and unfamiliar, and he didn’t want to break anything in the process. “I, uh, I noticed that you were discussing something when I walked in.”

“I’m sorry we started before you, I didn’t know how long Hu Tao would hold you up. She’s surprisingly persuasive, at least when she’s not selling coffins.” You let out a giggle.

“In light of your conversation, I would like to offer you something.”

“Yes?” You furrowed your brow, evidently puzzled.

“I would like to offer you an end to our relationship.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth dropped open as you jolted up suddenly in your chair. “What, why? I… what?”

“I do not wish to cause you any pain by forcing you to draw this out. If you wish for things to end quickly, then you ought not to worry about stalling. I promise that I will not contain you.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand what you’re saying?” Your voice sounded very raw. “Are you saying, are you saying that you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore.”

“No.” Zhongli replied slowly, feeling as if the situation had altogether managed to reverse itself. “I am only saying that if I am tying you down, that if I am no longer making you happy, then you do not have to continue this relationship.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand why you would ever think that I would want that.”

“But you said ‘I hope that it ends soon’.”

For a moment you stared at your partner, but then something seemed to overtake you and you began to laugh, an awkward sound stranded between relief and humor.

“A commission I was talking about a commission! There’s this tradesman who is trying to set up some sort of security measures with the Guild while he’s stopped in Liyue, and it’s taking up most of my time. It’s why I haven’t visited you at the Funeral Parlor recently as well. Believe me Zhongli, I would never want to break up with you, the idea of doing so makes me miserable.”

“Ah, I see.”

Zhongli wasn’t sure whether he should feel overwhelming relief or embarrassment. That question was put off however as you walked over to where he was sitting and threw your arms around him. Returning the embrace Zhongli pressed soft kisses all over your face. Relief washed over him, and he felt almost dizzy with relief. Though he had tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t let his own emotions rob you of your agency, now that the moment had passed the ex-archon could admit how truly shaken he was, and how much the idea of his days spend utterly devoid of your presence seemed unbearably lonely.

“I still don’t know how you ever jumped to such a conclusion.” You mumbled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on Zhongli’s lips.

The rest of the evening had been spent in a revery of frantic relief, both of you unwilling to stray very far from each other’s arms. Now the two of you lay tangled in bed together, overlapping limbs a solid reminder that all was well with the world.

“I do not want to rob you of your agency,” Zhongli replied, “I fear that I will tie you down. I know that the gods are old and staid, and unlikely to change. I know as well that humans often find such atmospheres stifling, and I fear that one day such a thing will come to pass.”

“Just because humans change their minds easily or want to travel or grow or whatever doesn’t mean that they don’t need an anchor,” you pointed out, voice heavy with fatigue, “we all need somewhere to go back to, we all need a home. You’re my home Zhongli, I never want to leave you.”

“You are my home as well. And I wish not to leave you either.”

“I’m glad the matter is settled then.” You smiled softly, before finally closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

“As am I.”

Zhongli lay awake a while, listening to the soft cadence of your breath. You had said it was humans that needed an anchor, but perhaps immortal beings did too. After all, you were the thing that kept Zhongli tethered to the world and the humans around him, and he loved you all the more for it.

#genshin impact fanfiction #ningguang x reader #zhongli x reader #ningguang #zhongli #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

#anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x pregnant!reader #sebastian x pregnant!reader #mcu fic #rpf fic #sebastian stan fic #sebastian x reader fluff #queue you! #jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Shaky Hands- prompt fill

Okay so I did both, but this one is for Shaky Hands! 

 Cw nausea, vomiting (nothing gross tho, promise), panic (but not too explicit), references to disassociation, and Jon typical negative self talk and guilt.  Set post 159!  (Can be read as a sequel to my last fic if you like.)

Send me more prompts!  (Bingo card by @celosiaa​) The ones with stars are the ones I already have prompts for, the crossed out ones are the ones I have posted!  Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!!

Here it goes: 

Jon's knuckles are white against the steering wheel of Daisy's car.  Martin is dozing next to him.  Face slack, and slowly regaining some color.  Very, very slowly.  

Jon is tired.  So so so so so so tired.  

The tension in his jaw is giving him a headache.  Then again, that could be any number of things.  Could be the thick exhaustion sitting in his limbs.  It could be the endless stretch of road in front of him and the endless stretch behind.  Although that is what is currently trying to force his stomach up his throat.  

He's Fine.  

He grits his teeth harder.  They don't have time to stop.  

He would turn on the aircon, but he's worried about Martin.  Would the cold be too much like the Lonely?  Martin is still faintly shivering under the thick jumper he had donned after his shower back at his flat before they had left.  

Wasn't driving supposed to Stop a person from getting carsick?  Christ there had been a time where he had trained himself to read in the car.  It had taken a while... and many errors much to the chagrin of his grandmother, but he had managed it.  

Of course that didn't stop him from getting horrifically sick on that unfortunate "Team Archive" road trip and every time he was kidnapped.  Daisy had not been happy.  Jon shudders to think of it.  

And now he's nauseous and sad.  Brilliant.  If he loses any self control, he will be a right bloody mess.  

The again, if he's going to be dreadfully ill, might as well get it over with.  Maybe he'll feel better?  Optimistic. Why should he assume that he would be so lucky.  He hasn't been lucky a day in his life.  

He's lucky no one has caught them yet.  Yet.  That no one is following them yet.  Yet.  

Seven and a half hours.  They are an hour in.   It’s dark.  How sure is he that no one is following them?  Did he catch a glimpse of police  lights?   Or was that just his overtaxed eyes playing tricks on him, the flash of a dashboard light against his glasses?   Was that a siren or the ringing in his ears.  His breath coming hot and fast against anxiety and his unhappy stomach.  

Breathe Jon.  

In through the nose out through the mouth.  Again.  Again.  Again.  Don’t hold the breath.  That will make it worse.   Something that Jon found hard to fathom.  How could he feel worse?  No.  Shouldn’t think like that.  Anything could happen.  A tire could blow out.  Martin could fall out of the car.  The engine could fall out of the car.  He could be sick all over the windshield and he could crash them into a tree.  

No.  No.  No.  

If a tire goes flat, there is one in the boot.  He Knows that.  

Martin probably won’t fall out of the car.  It’s no more likely than Jon falling out of the car.  He tries to Know the odds to calm himself but all he gets is static and a worse headache for his trouble.  

He doesn’t try to Know the odds of the engine falling out.  A headache any worse would cause him to be ill immediately.   

As for the last possibility.  He won’t think about it.  He’s fine.  He is.  

It’s raining now.  Heavy sheets of the stuff batter the car.  Or at least rattle it.  Rattle Jon.  Quaking hands on the wheel.  His hands cramped and numb from his grip on the wheel.  His arms sore from it.  It’s been a long time since he drove.  And he was never very good.  

He’s thirsty.  But putting anything in him sounds like a terrible idea.  But being thirsty makes him feel so much worse.  

Martin is still asleep.  And Jon is just barely keeping it together for him.  Barely.  Martin needs to sleep.  Jon needs to let him sleep.  He tried to count trees earlier but with the rain and the dark he can’t manage that.  He can hardly see the road and he suddenly Knows about the oils rising in the rainwater from the road and making it that much easier for Jon to slide them off the road and get them both killed.  So close.  So close to being safe.  To being free.  

His stomach lurches.  Again. He swallows hard.  Again. He can’t keep doing this.  

The backs of his hands are tingling.   It’s getting hard for him to measure his breaths.  

He is honestly not sure if this is panic or nausea.  Probably both.  Because he’s on the run again.  And this time he did actually legitimately kill someone.  A though that further turns his stomach much as he absolutely doesn’t regret it.  He was a horrible old bastard and he tried to take Martin.  But what if Basira?  Left to deal with his mess, that was his fault, right?  The hunters here for him.  Not-Sasha also after him.  If it weren’t for him, Daisy wouldn’t... she....

He’s gasping for air.  There are tears on his cheeks.  And he’s pulled to the wrong side of the road, emptying his stomach.  Door flung open.  Rain soaking his jumper.  Seatbelt digging into his shoulder.   

It hurts and he’s crying harder.  

And Martin’s hand is on his heaving back.  His other hand gathering his tangled hair.  

He shouldn’t have woken him.  He should have pulled over and gotten out, but he’d been too sick.  Too dizzy.  Too tired.  

Jon continues to gag.  He is shivering.  Rain running in rivulets down his spine.  Martin probably also getting soaked.  Martin who needs to stay warm and dry and not alone getting wet and cold and with only his miserable company.  He sobs around his body trying to expel all of the nothing he’s eaten over the last few days.  

“Oh.  Oh, Jon.”   Martin’s voice to gentle.  It makes Jon sob harder.  

Martin still rubbing his back.  Martin leaving as far as he can over to Jon’s seat and Jon knows it can’t be comfortable.  Jon doesn’t have the where with all to make any sound other than a pathetic whine.   

“Jon, please are you alright?  No that’s a stupid question, you’re clearly not.  What can I do to help?”

Jon manages to swallow hard a few times and slowly tries to sit up.  The seatbelt digging in harder as it did not appreciate the sudden yank to the side.  He pulls the door closed, very much hoping he won’t need to open it again.  

“‘M fine. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”  His voice is worse than wrecked.  It’s hoarse and thick and damp.  “We’ll be there soon.”  They won’t.  That starts a sob tearing through him.  They need to keep going.  They need to keep going.  They’ve got to go before someone comes after them.  Jon can lose his lack of lunch when they’re safe.  And they aren’t safe and Martin isn’t safe.  And Jon can’t make his miserable body do anything but be cold and wet and still impossibly queasy and shake.  Shake with exhaustion, nausea, anxiety, cold.  

“Jon, please talk to me?”  

“Just carsick.  I’m fine.  Let’s go.”  

Jon starts the car again and Martin sputters weakly.  Still cold and drained and Jon is just draining him further.  

“Jon!  You’re soaked!  You’re sick!  You’re shaking!  Don’t you think any of those mean you shouldn’t be driving?”   

Martin is probably right.  There’s only one of those things he can fix.  “I’ll.  I’ll get a spare jumper, alright?  But you shouldn’t be driving either.  I’ll be fine.  If I have to pull over a few more times… so be it.  But honestly I’ll be worse if I’m not driving and looking at the road.  And you... Martin I’m worried about you.”  He doesn’t want to say that Martin has been disassociating when he isn’t sleeping, for fear of making Martin defensive, or worse losing him to where ever his brain goes when he’s like that.   He doesn’t want to lose Martin to the fog or to himself.  

Martin must know that’s he’s less fit to drive, or he would be arguing.  

Jon wants Martin to go back to sleep.  He also selfishly wants Martin to stay awake and keep rubbing his back when he’s ill.   He wants Martin to hold his hand.  He wants Martin to hold him until the shaking stops, the headache stops, the dizziness stops, until his stomach stops rolling, until he’s no longer afraid.  

Selfish.  

Useless.  

Pathetic.  

He stifles another sob as he sheds his jumper and fumble blindly behind him from another from his backpack.   

He turns off the hazard lights and shakily gets them back in the road.  

His head buzzes with headache.   Worse now that he’s lost more liquid than he had to spare.  And the motion of the car is making his head swim more and his stomach turn.  Again.  

Martin is handing him a water bottle.  Martin is carefully wiping away his tears.   

“Please, you’ve got to drink something.”

Jon whines.   A truly embarrassing sound.   He doesn’t want to.  But he takes a couple very very measured sips.  

“That’s very good.  Thank you.  It’s okay if we have to stop again, you know.”

Jon nods for unhappily.  He doesn’t want to open his mouth to say they probably won’t have a choice.  

Jon has to pull over several more times.  Each time more painful than the last.  

Shaking harder than ever before, Jon stops the car in front of a small, ...cute cabin.  It’s mid morning.   And Martin had commented several times on Jon’s claim that they would be there “soon.”   It’s still sprinkling and Jon is caught between how the cabin is both increasingly Not Daisy and yet very very Daisy.   He doesn’t have the energy to dwell on that, though.  He takes slowly retrieves his bag and wavers the few steps towards the door.  His hands shaking almost too much to find the key and unlock it.   

His vision is darkening around the edges.  

He flutters awake in Martin’s arms.   They are on a bed Jon doesn’t recognize in a room Jon also doesn’t recognize.  He’s sore and thirsty and dizzy and exhausted.  His shoes have been removed and Martin is pressing him with more water.  

“Sorry,” Jon manages to slur around sips that Martin is ferrying to his mouth.  

“Shh.  Water then we are getting some sleep.  No more fainting.”   

Jon doesn’t have energy to argue.  He drinks his water, and presses himself against Martin with a sigh.  

They can talk later.  

#the magnus archives #fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma #cw nausea #cw vomit #emeto warning #cw panic #cw guilt #whump #motionsickness #words #my words #my writing #art #my art

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 5

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 5 - Bubble

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Tiny mentions of illness, mention of parental death, gratuitous use of the 'there was only one bed?' trope

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

I scurried away as lightly as my feet could take me, heart thumping as I made it to the other side of my quarter’s door. Holding my breath, I listened as Poe shuffled down the hallway, waiting for him to knock on the wooden shield I was hiding behind, exposing his knowledge of what I’d done. But it never came, instead hearing his hobbling steps enter the ‘fresher, water hissing out of the tap.

Thank the stars, maybe I’m safe.

I hurried to shut off any remaining light sources, climbing into my bed to bury my face under the sheets. Holding myself in frozen silence, the rushing water stopped, and muffled uneven footsteps paced back down the hallway.

Eventually, the realisation of what had happened started to settle into my brain. What I’d heard him do. What I’d done. What he’d said.

He was thinking of me.

A blush prickled my cheeks, the heat in my lower abdomen dulled but still noticeable. I tried desperately not to think of what could have happened if we’d kissed earlier, if I hadn’t pulled away so sharply. It nagged at me, this sudden desire damning me for not giving in to the urges ignited from Poe’s presence. I would have known what his skin felt like connected to mine, I would have known the smell of his sweat, I would have known what his lips tasted-

Stop doing this to yourself. It will only hurt more.

My eyes squeezed shut, obeying what the voice told me. I began to make a list of everything I had to carry out when the next day broke, the patients that had standing appointments, the treatment notes I had still yet to finish.

Being in my own bed for the first time in days made it easier for me to drift off into a quiet slumber.

*

When my chronometer buzzed at 0700 I groggily opened my eyes to the new morning, wishing I’d had more than 4 and a half hours’ worth of sleep. I nuzzled my face into the pillow for a few moments, hoping for nothing more than to extend my peaceful resting.

But my first consultation was set to take place within the hour, and I still had to make time to do the vitals check on Poe that had to be… rescheduled. A pang of embarrassment and heat spread quickly through my chest at the memories, rustling it down into the back of my consciousness. I needed to start focusing on my work again.

No more distractions.

Pulling myself up slowly from the bed, my eyes glanced outside the window to the still rising sun, rays of light now pouring in past the clear glass and hitting me with a subtle warmth as my legs moved over the side of the mattress. I allowed myself to bask in it for a minute or two, hoping it would somehow invigorate my enthusiasm for the day ahead.

No such luck.

Making my way into the ensuite fresher, I frowned as my reflection came into view. I looked exhausted. Copper hair was beginning to unravel out of the low plait I spent most days wearing, errant strands stuck to the skin on my forehead. A rosiness had settled into my cheeks, starkly contrasted to the rest of my face, another indication of the minimal sleep I’d had.

My eyes were slightly droopy, hazel irises only half visible. Sluggishly, I took the elastic holding together the weaves of my plait and shook the hair free, fingers combing through to soften out the knots created from tossing in the night.

Slipping off my clothes, I stepped into the shower, pressing the start button to an instant rush of molten water, basking in the sensation of the pressured stream massaging my aching muscles. I hadn’t realised how sore I was from the long trek I’d completed for Poe, but it was all too noticeable now when my body pulsed in delight from the searing heat flowing into my skin.

After freshening up to my normal state of being and donning my usual work attire - a light button up blouse and deep navy slacks, I worked to reform my hair into a loose plait that sat over my shoulder, twisting the strands smoothly down my chest.

It took me a few minutes of hesitation before I could push myself to walk out of my quarters. I was nervous. Not only for the way Poe and I parted, but also for how I’d caught him hours later. How was I supposed to not blush after hearing the way he moaned my name? How was I not supposed to refrain from thinking about the way it had made me come instantly?

He’s your patient. Just treat him like anybody else.

That’s the thought that ricocheted through my mind as I paced down the hallway, steady breaths preparing me for the rush of bashfulness I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid. Rounding the corner, I saw the hospital drapes had been closed to shield Poe’s bed from view, moving closer to hear the relaxed sounds of his breathing muffled through them.

Damn, he was still sleeping.

I had been hoping he would already be awake, simply to avoid the awkward disturbance of restful sleep. I hated it, hated shaking patients into consciousness just to prod them with medical equipment. I could always tell they despised me for it. But there was no other option. I had put this off for long enough.

My fingers slipped through the drapes’ opening and slowly forced them apart, thinking Poe’s eyes would immediately open at the rattling of metal rings against the rail. But as my stare scanned his body, then his face, he was still snoozing soundly. And it was anything but elegant.

He laid on his back, diagonal across the length of the mattress, the uninjured leg poking out from the sheets and foot completely free from the support of the bed. His casted arm was resting on his stomach, hand reached under the night shirt, exposing his lower abdominal muscles and the flickers of dark body hair trailing down from his navel. The other, bandaged arm was flung backwards over his pillow, face pressed into the cloth covered bicep, mouth hanging open, chest slowly rising and falling in his deep slumber. I wanted to giggle, but settled for a quick smirk before moving to the bedside.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I shook him gently. “Poe?”

He rustled only slightly, mouth closing and forming into what I could only conceive as a smile.

“Poe?” I called to him again, the pressure on his shoulder harder this time. “It’s time to wake up.”

“Alex?” he breathed sweetly, eyelids still not unlocked, my chest tightening at the way he said my name. I barely had time to process it when his eyes suddenly flitted open, pupils widening at seeing my face not far from his. He recoiled almost instantly, neck sprouting upwards from the pillow in surprise, quickly jerking around to survey his surroundings.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I said tenderly as he rushed himself back into a normal lying position. “It’s just… I need to take your vitals and check how those burns are healing.”

He shook his head rapidly in an attempt to rid himself of the morning haze. “Sure,” he coughed, voice gravelly. “Go for it.”

I pulled the leads from their hooks on the wall and positioned them on him, both of us pitted in silence. He wouldn’t look at me as I waited for the results to appear, instead staring straight at his feet, struggling to hold down the irritability peeking though in his expression.

“You’re not much of a morning person, are you?” I observed, failing to stifle a laugh.

He simply shook his head, still not letting his eyes deviate. “I usually am. This morning… Not so much.”

“Did you not sleep very well?” I began to enter his stable vitals onto my datapad, writing a few notes detailing his recovery so far.

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t get to sleep until pretty late.”

“Oh,” I breathed, urgently trying to abate the rush of blood to both my cheeks and in between my legs. “Were you in pain? Hungry? I’m sorry I didn’t come and check on you.”

I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d tried and failed. I didn’t want to embarrass the both of us by reciting how I managed to catch him in such a… vulnerable position.

“You’re sorry?” he puzzled, eyes finally reaching mine as I sheepishly looked up from my datapad.

“Well… um… yeah. What happened last night-”

“Stop,” Poe interrupted, his expression finally softening. “Stop apologising. I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness.”

“But I-”

“Alex.” Poe stopped me as I started to unravel the edge of his bandage. “I shouldn’t have been so… forward. You were right. It was inappropriate. You’re... my doctor, and I shouldn’t have put you in such an uncomfortable position.” There was a tinge of shame flickering in his bronzed irises, his jaw taut. I could sense there was still more waiting on his tongue. But I didn’t want to pursue it further than that. I didn’t want to get caught in the black hole of wondering why he’d felt so strongly in that moment to kiss me.

“Let’s just both be sorry and forget it ever happened,” I smiled.

He reciprocated my soft grin. “Sounds great.”

Neither of us were going to forget about it.

*

“Thanks so much Miss Jago!”

I waved my midday patients off from the front entrance, the burnt, crumbling ruins of Poe’s X-wing still disturbing my view of the Raxus countryside now brightly illuminated in the heat of the noontime sun.

“See you in a month!” I called as the small children, twin siblings, scurried to catch up with their parents who had already begun their several hour journey home. As much as their monthly visits warmed me, I hated they had to make it so often. It was unfortunately necessary to treat the musculoskeletal disease they had been born with - one that slowly ate away at their muscles. They were mere infants when their parents had brought them to my door, tiny little bodies wasting away for an undiscernible reason. Thankfully with a diagnosis, regular check-ups, injections and medication, I’d helped them grow into normal little kids.

This was the impact I wanted on the world.

I’d left Poe to his own devices after finalising my assessment of his injuries. His X-rays indicated adequate signs of healing, most of his wounds mere red lines, and the severe burn on his left arm had healed extensively, so much so that I hadn’t needed to replace the bandage over his skin.

It was still obvious he’d sustained damage, but the scarring that’s taken place of the seared flesh looked like it had been healing for a long time. I knew in my bones that it wasn’t the bacta that did all that work, and hoped yet again Poe wouldn’t somehow come to that realisation.

“Huh, I thought you said there was third degree burns under there,” he had questioned, still seeming impressed.

“There was,” I answered shortly. “Bacta and time does the trick.”

He hadn’t inquired beyond that, once again accepting bacta as a wondrous miracle cure. Which it was, but not to this extent.

I stepped back into the clinic room and returned to my computer, typing a few last notes into the twins’ file.

“They were cute,” Poe chirped across the room, sitting at the portable desk I’d provided for him to continue working on BB-8 while I was with patients.

“I’ve been seeing them since they were babies,” I said flatly, still concerned with my inputting.

“I can tell,” he added. “They actually seem excited about coming to the doctor. Didn’t even cry when you gave them the needles. They must like you.”

I hoped he was too far away to see the manifestation of a stroked ego display on my face. Hitting enter on the last of my records, I stood out of the chair to make my way to Poe’s makeshift workstation. “How’s the repairs coming along on your little friend?”

“Slow,” he huffed. “Especially with my arm still in this cast.” He looked up at me then, asking a silent question.

“No,” I stated sharply. “The cast isn’t coming off until tomorrow.”

He made a playful attempt at a frown and returned his concentration to the complicated weave of wire and metal in front of him. Humans, and most aliens, seemed a lot less complicated to fix than this.

“The crash really messed him up bad huh?” I noted, kind of too obviously.

“Yeah, but his circuits seem to be a little more fried than I would have expected. He’s got big impact dents, a decent amount of smoke and fire damage, but that doesn’t really explain a lot of the wiring damage I’m seeing in here.” Poe pointed to the domed inside of BB’s head, a maze of tiny circuit boards connected to an absolute mess of melted copper wires.

I didn’t have a very educated mind concerning robotics, but still made my guess anyway. “Electrical sparks maybe?”

“Hm,” Poe hummed. “It seems that way. Although hardly anything that would have been caused by fire or ejection into a concrete wall.” He was deep in thought again, attempting to precisely pull apart the wires with fine pliers. But he was right, the cast did impinge on the proper use of his hand.

“How about a break?” I chimed, truly believing he needed it.

He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of break?”

“A break from this, using your brain and uh… hands.” I tried to smile cheerfully but it felt a little more like pity. “We could go for a walk, get your rehabilitation started.”

Poe’s eyes sparkled at my suggestion. “Oh thank the maker, I thought you were never letting me out of here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes then?”

“Absolutely!”

*

It took an infuriatingly long time to convince Poe to use any type of walking aid, outright refusing the z-frame, snubbing the bilateral crutches, only begrudgingly accepting to use the walking cane he was leaning on now as he finally got a chance to inspect the remnants of his near-fatal crash landing.

“I made it out of that,” he said faintly, and I couldn’t decipher whether it was a question.

“Just,” I reminded him.

He turned to look at me, eyes widened, glowing with disbelief. “Have I said thank you enough yet?”

“You’re getting there,” I chuckled. “You’re just lucky you crashed on my doorstep. Who knows what would have happened otherwise…”

I knew. He’d be dead.

“Lucky is right,” he mused, the shimmer in his eyes not having faded yet.

“Come on, let’s get you walking.”

I turned in the direction of the north village’s path, stepping in relaxed strides as to not tempt Poe into further straining himself. He followed my instruction, limping beside, albeit much less unsteady than he’d been without the cane.

We were quiet as I allowed him to focus on the task of walking, not wishing to distract him from learning how to safely put one foot in front of the other again. Soon he had settled into a steady rhythm, and I glanced sideways to see Poe’s face finally survey his surroundings.

Luscious green fields rolled out in every direction in front of us, large plots of land lined with wheat grass and varying vegetation, all separated by short, rustic wooden fences. Trees dotted the path we took, tall and flourishing from years of undisturbed growth. I could hear the canaries whose nests littered their branches start to chitter at the sound of our footsteps, many high-pitched chirps fluttering from under the cover of shrubbery.

“It’s beautiful here,” Poe marvelled, his face almost as bright as the sun that shone over us. “I can see why you picked this place.”

I smiled warmly. “I did a small amount of research.”

Hours and hours.

“Evidently. Although, a thought did come to me…”

“Hm?”

Poe was quiet for a few beats as we strolled slowly along the gravel path, then asked, “Why didn’t you bring anyone with you? Why do this all alone? Don’t you miss your family?”

Kriff. Pulling out all the difficult questions.

“Well… I suppose I’ve always worked best alone. Even through my training I found it would take me less time to come to the correct answer or work through a procedure if I didn’t have anyone interrupting me.” I stopped with a realisation of how the words spilled out my mouth. “Uh… did that sound too conceited?”

Poe chuckled. “A little. But I understand. Some people are just wired that way.”

I laughed with him in response, hoping he would forget the rest of his queries.

“Alright, I can understand the lack of co-workers. But what about family? Raxus is an incredibly far place to travel from Coruscant. I can’t imagine you simply cut all ties and left one day to live in the Outer Rim, alone.”

Yet that was the cold reality, the truth lingering through every day I spent on this planet.

“Are you okay?”

Poe had noticed the shift in my mood, the subtle pain in my expression.

I nodded with a smile that didn’t dissolve into the rest of my face. “They understood. They just wanted me to be happy.” I swallowed slowly, focusing all my concentration on keeping the tears from forming at my eyes.

I need to get off this subject fast.

“What about your parents, don’t you miss them while flying to every corner of the galaxy for the Resistance?”

Poe stopped suddenly, myself following suit, and he smirked a little. “I do. My father is on Yavin 4, lending a hand to the civilian defence of the colony I grew up in. And my mother…” His eyes softened as he reminisced, the smile never fading from his lips. “She passed when I was 8, so I’ve... missed her for a long time. And I’m sure she misses me from wherever she is now.”

Our eyes met, a swirl of profound soothing energy radiating between us under the midday sun. He didn’t know it, but the shared feeling of loss in the family we would never be able to see again was a comfort to me, to know someone else sensed the weight of grief on their shoulders too.

We were still for a few moments, both ruminating within our own minds, until our footsteps simultaneously crackled on the ground again. As we walked, I could almost feel a tangible stripping of the hardened layers I’d built over years to frame my consciousness, never daring to let anyone get too close to the core, the truth.

The way Poe spoke without hesitation of consequences, the way he so willingly trusted me, the lightness that it made me feel, I couldn’t help but want to mirror his energy. I wanted to let him in.

You’ll regret it.

You know what? I don’t care.

*

At first we talked of our childhoods, recounting the differences between the sprawling, artificial cityscape of Coruscant and the vast jungles and rainforests that encompassed Yavin 4. Poe spoke of climbing Massassi trees with his father, attempting to learn how to track Woolamanders by scent alone, and his first hazy memories of sitting on his mother’s lap, playing with the controls of an X-wing.

My memories were more rudimentary by far, as I recalled my schooling in classes of hundreds, learning how to transverse the maze-like Level 4860 without becoming lost, and the rare trips to the higher levels that I journeyed with my parents just to see the sky.

As we made our way back towards the clinic, we regaled each other of the differing sides of war, him attempting to avoid the injuries of battle while I took pride in mending them. It was effortless the way we conversed, a lack of discussion never opening up to an awkward void of silence. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so weightless, the heavy shackles of my long-kept secret feeling looser around my soul.

A twinge of disappointment tugged at me once we’d reached the clinic building again, wanting to remain in this floating bubble of contentment for so much longer. But there were still patients to see.

Poe was visibly drained from our long hike, a small tremor of exhaustion and pain beginning to tremble through his body as he eventually hobbled back into his hospital bed. I was able to renew his analgesia drip before a knock at the door indicated my 1400 appointment had arrived, albeit a little early.

To my surprise, and relief, it was a small crew of east village tradesmen, tools in hand, having carted along the scrap parts that would hopefully put my comm-tower back in working order. A familiar, gruff looking man with kind eyes, salt and pepper hair and a short beard framing his jaw, reached out to greet me.

“Alexys!”

“Vixur,” I beamed back, embracing him in a curt hug. “Thank you so much for coming. I hope the trek wasn’t too tiring.”

“Nothing we haven’t done before.”

The 3 others with him nodded in agreement. I recognised their faces but couldn’t find their names hidden away in my brain. They were all considerably younger, so I assumed they hadn’t needed my care so much over the last couple of years.

“These are a few my trade students, to help me. So… where’s this broken comm-tower?”

My eyes moved to look behind them. “Uh... under the wreckage. Just over there.”

They all craned their necks around in unison, Vixur’s face falling into look of unease. “This might take a little longer than expected Miss Jago.”

I gritted my teeth into an apologetic smile. “I know. But anything you can do to get it working would be unimaginably helpful. The comm-tower allows me to order supplies and do my research. I’ll be useless without it after too long.”

“Guess we better get to work then,” Vixur remarked, giving me a warm smile before ushering his crew towards the metal debris.

My chest thumped with appreciation for the older gentleman I’d known since I’d arrived on Raxus, one of the few who volunteered their time to assist in building my clinic. It was one of the things that cemented my belief I’d made the right choice to settle on this planet, just to help people like him.

As the four men began to carefully take apart the burnt metal frame of the X-wing, I returned inside to find Poe already back behind the workstation with BB-8’s insides splayed across the metal.

“I thought you were resting,” I scolded.

He didn’t look up, attempting exactly what he’d been struggling with before leaving the clinic. “I was bored. I’d rather be sore and busy.”

I chuckled under my breath, my rear almost reaching my desk chair before another knock resonated into the room.

*

An infected foot wound, an angry rash, a burning pain during urination. Just a few of the patients whose appointments brought little in the way of fascination for my afternoon.

Poe continued his work silently behind the hospital curtain to provide at least some privacy for my examinations. I felt the aura behind the screen grow intense with repulsion as I discussed the less than glamourous issues with my patients, burying the need to smile at the thought of Poe’s sickened face. Being in this line of work for so long allowed me a resistance to the kind of aversion most people felt being faced with nauseating and embarrassing conditions of the human body.

I had just waved farewell to my last patient of the day, when Poe’s voice suddenly piped from behind me. “How do you do this every day? I thought I was going to be sick hearing that woman talk about her foot,” he winced.

I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been in battle, but can’t handle a little pus?”

“Blood and ugh… pus… are two completely different things.”

“Hm… Poe Dameron, pilot extraordinaire, Commander of the Resistance fleet, battle hardened military man, is afraid of a little pus?”

He took my mocking with good humour, conceding. “Don’t tell anyone okay? Wouldn’t want my enemies knowing my one weakness.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’ll be making contact to help out the First Order anytime soon.”

“I would hope so,” he stated lightly, “We don’t need someone like you patching up all the holes we put in their soldiers.”

I knew logically he meant it as a joke, but it still minced at my insides, a flush of irritation coursing through me, and he could tell when my face fell.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, remorseful. “When you’ve been involved in war for so long it’s easy to become a little… indifferent about the other side’s casualties.”

Indifferent? More like ignorant.

How stone hearted did one have to be to consider the deaths of millions at the hands of fleets and armies just par for the course? To deem the deaths of those who just happened to be on the opposing side not even worth a second thought?

I worked my whole life to keep people’s hearts beating, and people like him could so easily stop them, seemingly without guilt. He made my work, past and present, feel absolutely pointless.

People would keep dying as collateral, and those who sentenced them to that fate didn’t even care.

All the positive emotions that had bubbled up for Poe during our walk today suddenly popped, disappearing into the air in an instant, leaving little behind.

I looked to Poe with narrowed eyes, my tone icy. “Good thing there’s people like me who actually value life instead of readily wanting to take it.” I marched from his hunched frame towards the hallway, too tired from the day to spend more time arguing about war again.

“Alex! Wait a second! I didn’t mean it like that!” he echoed from behind me, his voice ricocheting off the walls as I stormed away.

Slamming the door of my quarters, it was difficult to deny the tears of frustration threatening to break from my eyes. I feared his stubbornness wouldn’t allow any reprieve, and it appeared I was correct when I heard his disjointed footsteps becoming louder. Gritting my teeth, I felt the burning sensation of bile simmering in my stomach. His knock was faint, and not accompanied by his voice asking for me.

I strode back to the door and swung it open. “What?!”

Poe’s eyes grew wide at my snapping question, not appearing as hostile as I’d imagined. “The tradesman is at the door asking for you,” he muttered sheepishly. I was rattled for a moment at his lack of antagonism, before pacing back to the front entrance as he slunk onto the hallway wall, letting me pass by without challenge.

Vixur was there to greet me just inside the door, a sly smirk curling his lips. “Who was that Alexys?”

“He’s a patient, the one who survived the crash that wrecked my comm-tower,” I grumbled, in no mood for Vixur’s assumptions.

“Right. Sure.” His smile didn’t fade quickly enough for my liking. “Anyway, we’ve managed to clear most of the wreckage, and start our rebuild. But I’m afraid it’s still not even close to being finished.”

“I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that. Sorry it’s such a big job.”

“It’s perfectly alright, I had a feeling you wouldn’t have made a trip to the village unless it was important. We’ll set up camp out here for the night and hopefully have it running tomorrow.”

The thought of these men shivering in the frosty Raxus night, for what was really Poe’s benefit, made me feel heavy with quiet fury.

“No Vixur!” I protested. “You and your students don’t need to spend the night out in the cold! I’ve got four hospital beds in here, and they’re at least somewhat comfier than the ground. And so much warmer.”

“I thought you said you had a patient?” Vixur’s eyes drifted behind me, and I turned to see Poe leaning against the hallway door.

“Oh, he doesn’t require my treatment anymore. I’ll find a place for him. There’s plenty of floor space in this clinic.”

Vixur seemed to successfully gauge my mood, unease twisting his expression. “It wouldn’t feel right taking away a bed from the man who survived that crash.”

“It’s fine, really. He hasn’t proven to be half as selfless as you and your men have been today. It’s honestly the least I could do for you.”

I could sense why Vixur was wary. I had never acted like this before, vindictive and petty. But Poe’s hideously callous mindset had wrestled out a restrained wrath that was bubbling to the surface.

“Well… okay then. I’ll round up my boys and bring them inside. Much appreciated Alex.”

I swivelled on my heels to Poe’s downcast expression, knowing he’d listened to the conversation. “You can move BB-8 and your things into my office,” I said flatly, before beginning to strip the sheets off the bed he had called his for the past couple of days.

He didn’t say anything, mouth clamped shut as he followed my orders and collected as much of BB as possible into his arms.

It took him a couple of trips, and I faintly twinged with contrition as he limped back and forth from my study. But it was quickly buried in the heap of bitterness weighing heavy in my chest.

*

After renewing the sheets of the bed and helping the men settle into the clinic for the night, I showed them where to help themselves to my food stocks and offered them use of the ‘fresher. They were hideously thankful, and it made me contemplate what kind of sleeping arrangements they had in their village to be so appreciative of the lumpy hospital grade mattress I was providing them. It only soured my mood even more.

Yet another thing that war bestows.

It was mildly surprising that Poe didn’t pounce on an opportunity to debate with me in a way to clarify his stance, wondering how long he would let me have the last word. He had skulked away into the study to continue his repair on BB-8, his solemn aura a far contrast to the spiky air that hung in the air around me.

I fell into my usual nightly routine of reading, bathing, and dinner, begrudgingly making Poe a meal and placing it in front of him without muttering a word. He let out a soft ‘thank you’ as I left back to my quarters, and the same pang of guilt tried to rise up again, this time a lot harder to submerge.

It didn’t sit well in my body, this cold resentment that continued to churn through my blood. It felt foreign and unknown to my usual state of being. I knew it was because I hadn’t had to face a person like this, who deemed war and death necessary companions, in such a long time. I found myself impatient for Poe to leave, to return to an existence being surrounded only by those who had been too traumatised by war to ever consider it an acceptable burden in life.

It was starting to get late in the evening, my weariness from the day becoming increasingly powerful as I lounged on my sofa, waiting for Poe to get out the ‘fresher so I could instruct him he was to use my bed for sleep tonight. The doctor side of my brain had eventually won despite my irritation, pressing that he was still a man who had painful injuries and needed a comfortable place to rest them.

The ‘fresher suddenly opened, Poe rushing past my door back into the office before I had a chance to stop him.

“Poe?”

He slinked his head around the corner first, seemingly startled I had called for him, before shifting his body slowly into the entryway.

“Yeah?” His voice was gentle, albeit slightly hollow.

“You’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight,” I asserted, tone firm and professional.

Poe cocked his head to the side. “With you?”

“No,” I sighed, exasperated, thinking that fact would have been obvious. “I’ll be on the couch.” I patted the pillow and blanket I had beside me.

“Right, of course,” he mumbled. “I thought you had banished me to the floor.”

I took in a slow breath, trying to be more cordial than I felt. “It wouldn’t be good for your recovery.”

“You don’t have to. I could take the couch.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t a question.”

“Right,” he conceded, quicker than I expected. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“Yeah,” I yawned. “As your doctor, I would suggest you do the same.”

His face seemed bruised at my coldness, and I felt a lump form in my throat as guilt tried incessantly to escape into my expression. But I was too tired to care anymore, and sleep would mean I was closer to being free of his mood-altering presence.

I pulled the pillow over to the opposite side of the sofa and fluffed out the blanket so I could slip myself under it, facing away from Poe still self-consciously standing at the door. I heard him eventually tread over to my bed and climb in, the faint rustling of fabric filling the air until there was silence between us, yet again.

*

I tried my best to sleep. But I was restless, mostly from the discomfort of my sleeping place, the couch providing little in the way of relaxation for my tired body. There was also an incessant torrent of thoughts nagging at me, unable to stop turning over the conflicting emotions I had towards Poe.

In such a short time I felt so close to him, so connected, both care and desire climbing higher with our time together. Now that already fragile bond was frayed at the edges, threatening to snap in two.

In reality I barely knew him, spending only a handful of days in each other’s lives, yet somehow within that meek time frame I’d felt more attached to this man than anyone I’d encountered in my lifetime.

But his differing morals couldn’t be denied, and they wounded my soul, made me feel useless in this already overwhelming universe. What hope did this galaxy have when even the self-proclaimed heroes of the war don’t see themselves as murderers too? Did they think because their ideals were more noble that it allowed them to freely kill without care?

It didn’t seem to matter what side someone found themselves fighting for. Each had different causes, different reasons behind their crusade, but they produced the same outcome. A whole lot of death.

I heard Poe sit up all of a sudden. “Alex?”

“Hm?” I answered groggily.

“Can we talk?”

~

Next Chapter

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #kylo ren x reader

[manikas-whims]

A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.

_

A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.

Note:

I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.

This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.

Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.

Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥

Kaz

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”

And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.

With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.

“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.

Inej

Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.

Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.

Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.

“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”

“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”

“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”

“So…Suli huh?”

Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits,  she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this. 

A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.

When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.

She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.

“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.

Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”

“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”

Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”

He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”

“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.

He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I did!” she protests like a child  falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”

“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”

Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.

“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.

She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?

“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.

She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”

He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”

“What about my..services?” she asks.

“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.

Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.

As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.

Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.

Hope it was enjoyable!

I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD

.

SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #kaz x inej #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kanej fanfiction

[dazedbydazai]

예뻤어 - You Were Beautiful

➤ Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Fem!Reader

➤ Genre: Angst

➤ Warning: Character death(s)

➤ WC: 2.0K

(A/N: This was requested by an anon and was inspired by DAY6′s song, You were Beautiful. I suggest listening to that while reading this. It just hits right.)

Dazai Osamu was a very secretive and elusive man. He had multiple tricks up his sleeve, he was manipulative, cunning, and unforgiving. He didn't know what love was, he abandoned that emotion long ago. He was merciless and self-centered, only caring about things that will benefit him. Dazai Osamu was not a good man.

But all of that changed when his closest friend, Odasaku, died.

Promising to turn over a new leaf, Dazai left the Port Mafia in pursuit of something more beautiful, something good, and he had also vowed to not let anyone else enter his life and be attached to them in fear of losing them like he lost his friend.

Dazai vowed. He closed himself off, hiding behind a pretentious and flamboyant character that fools people with his handsome smile and witty banter. Dazai didn't want to repeat the same mistake twice. Dazai had already learned.

He chanted this in his mind over and over again but alas, he was not able to stick to his word. Because just after a few months of leaving his past self behind, he suddenly met you.

A beautiful woman. Funny, kind, and just as intelligent as Dazai, you showed up in front of him like an angel and broke down all the walls he's built.

Dazai didn't understand why, of all people, did you come to him? Why waste your time on someone who's suicidal and clearly not of sound mind? Why bother entertaining his antics and flirtatious behavior when you knew that he only did this to cover up his ugliness within?

Simple. The answer was simple.

It was just in your nature.

You were gentle when you first embraced Dazai. You were understanding when he told you about his past. You were soft spoken when you told him that it's okay. You were kind, so very kind, that Dazai didn't bother to put up his walls around you anymore.

Dazai let himself fall. He wanted to hold you in his arms longer, wanted you to kiss his pain and anguish away, he wanted to love you. And he did.

That promise he made himself was long forgotten as he sighed contently, letting your fingers drag through his hair, gently fixing it up.

"Dazai? Are you falling asleep?" You giggle as you look at him through the mirror of your dresser.

Dazai blinked a few times before grinning at you. "Hmm... if I say yes, would you let me sleep in your bed tonight?"

You lightly smack his forehead and laugh. "If you meant that literally, then go ahead."

You were always so welcoming with Dazai, no, actually with all the people you meet. You treat them equally, always talking to them with a smile on your face. But Dazai likes to think that he's given special treatment from you. You are, after all, the closest person he's ever let in his life next to Odasaku.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Being with you was easy. You calmed Dazai's heart, relaxed his mind, made him feel more human.

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever met," He had told you one day as you ate your lunch together. If it was anybody else, they'd assume that Dazai was just being his usual flirty self. But since it was you, you knew that those words held something deeper as you look in his brown orbs.

Being with Dazai was difficult, to say the least, but you kept up with him, determined to help him in any way you can. And it wasn't long before you found yourself falling for him too.

It was in the gentle way he held your hand, the glint in his eyes whenever he talks to you, the softness and vulnerability of his voice when he lets out his inner thoughts and nightmares.

You were always there, listening through each and every one of his stories. Even when he had called you up at three o'clock in the morning, voice hoarse and shaky as he apologized to you.

"Did you have another nightmare?" You ask softly and when Dazai says yes, you sit up on your bed and walk him through it. You always knew how to calm him down, knew the right words to say, and Dazai was thankful for that.

Dazai truly loved you and you loved him too.

That's why even if he knows he won't be able to hold you in his arms forever, he still takes the chance and asks you to be his.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It feels like heaven. Dazai thought as he held you in his arms one cold winter night.

It was perfect. How your hand fit in his as he kissed your knuckles gently.

"You are so beautiful, my belladonna."

Those words never failed to make you blush, your heart skipping a beat as Dazai traces the features of your face with his finger.

"Stay with me like this forever, Dazai. I want to keep you close to me for as long as I can," You whisper these words as you close your eyes, feeling sleepy.

"Don't say that like you're going someplace else, my love. I will forever be by your side," Dazai replied as he kissed your forehead and wrapped the blanket closer to your bodies.

But maybe Dazai should have taken your words more seriously that night. Because a few weeks later, he will find himself regretting not holding onto you tighter.

Life was cruel, Dazai knew that from a young age. Things never go according to plan. One moment you're up in the clouds, and the next you're falling head first to the ground.

That's how Dazai felt today as he got a call from the hospital.

Leaving behind his work at the agency and rushing over to you in a panic, Dazai felt his world slowly crumble to pieces as he saw the state you were in.

"What happened?" Dazai asked the doctor as he stood still at the doorway of your room. Dazai's eyes were blank as he listened to the doctor explaining that you suddenly fainted in the middle of the street. That it was probably due to the strain in your heart, a terminal illness that Dazai had no idea you had.

But maybe he already knew. He saw you multiple times trying to take some medicine in secret, as if you were afraid of letting Dazai see. At one time he found a bottle of pills in your cabinet but he didn't dare ask what it was for.

It was silly, how you two were so alike, how you also masked your own pain by that beautiful smile of yours.

When the doctor had finished and left, Dazai approached your bed and sat by your side. Even with your eyes closed and your lips not the usual shade of pink, Dazai still found you beautiful and he simply stared at you, waiting for you to wake up.

When you come to, the first thing you see is the familiar tousle of Dazai’s hair as he laid his head on your hospital bed. You felt your words get caught up in your throat and your hand flinch.

“Belladonna?” Dazai called out groggily, having woken up by your movement.

Immediately, as you lock eyes with him, you felt your tears forming and falling at the corner of your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Was all you could say as you cried. You felt horrible, both physically and emotionally. All this time you had kept this a secret from him, from someone who has been so honest with you from the start. You apologized over and over again, not knowing what else to say.

Dazai hushed you by wiping your tears away. “What are you sorry for, my belladonna?”

You force the lump down your throat as you look up at the ceiling, suddenly unable to face Dazai head on.

“For everything,” You whisper. “I know I should have told you about this. But I just…”

Dazai waited for you to continue, staying silent as he brushed his thumb across your cheeks.

You shut your eyes and cry harder, your body shaking horribly. “I didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want you to see me like this. I look and feel so helpless.”

You clutch the sheets in your hands and take a shaky breath. “All my life they told me to just stay still, to not venture out in the world. I know I don’t have long to live and I planned to listen to them and close myself off. But that was until I met you.”

You find the courage to finally face Dazai again and your heart sank deeper as you see the blank look in his eyes. “I became selfish. Ever since I met you, I suddenly wanted to live. I wanted to experience everything life had to offer. I wanted to fall in love, and I’m so glad that I found that in you. And I don’t regret leaving my past behind and meeting you. But…”

You reach up and hold Dazai’s cheek and that’s when you saw the familiar pain cross his eyes. “The only regret that I have now is that I put you in this position once again.”

Dazai knew what you meant and he couldn’t help the deep sigh that escapes his lips. Closing his eyes, he leans into your touch and says, “Can’t you stay with me for a little longer, Y/N?”

It was the first time in a long while that he called you by your name and it hurt so bad how sad his tone was when saying it.

“I honestly don’t know Dazai,” You admit you aren’t sure how longer you can stay with him, how longer you can live. And as you helplessly lay on the bed and hold Dazai’s hand in yours tightly, you couldn’t help but pray to all the gods to give you a little bit more time.

Life was indeed cruel and it left a bitter taste in Dazai’s mouth as he stared out the window of your shared apartment. There were a lot of things left unsaid between you two but one thing was for certain, you really didn’t want Dazai to see the pain you were hiding inside.

You only wanted him to see the good things, the beautiful things. Wanted him to enjoy life and continue on his journey. But how was he supposed to do that now? He wanted to be angry, wanted to scream at the universe for kicking him down like this over and over again, but he can’t bring himself to. He couldn’t hate you. No. Not you.

Because you were beautiful.

From the moment he first saw you, he knew how gorgeous you were from inside and out.

You were beautiful.

Every time you said you loved him with that sparkle in your eyes. Every time you called his name in that sweet voice of yours. Every time you kissed and wrapped your arms around him.

You were beautiful.

Even as you saw all the ugliness of life, you still managed to smile.

You were beautiful.

Even as you said you were sorry, with tears staining your cheeks.

You were beautiful.

Even as you said your final good bye when you thought Dazai was sound asleep by your side.

Everything about you was beautiful, and deep down, Dazai was glad he found you. He was thankful that you guided him to the light. He was happy he got to spend a significant time with you.

But no matter how beautiful your time spent with him was, he still couldn’t help but clench his fist in anger. Why did you have to leave me too?

It was a question Dazai always asked but he never found an answer. Again, for the second time in his life, someone so dear slipped away from his hands.

Sometimes he wanted to end it as well, to fall into the hands of death. But he was suddenly afraid to push through it. He was afraid to forget you, to never see you again even as he closes his eyes. He was scared to lose his precious memories of you.

Because all of it was beautiful in his eyes.

And now as he lays in bed, he doesn’t know what hurts and haunts him more; the nightmares of his past life, or the constant dreams he has of you and your beautiful smile.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs angst #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs angst #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd angst #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bsd dazai angst

[meltwonu]

s n a k e     |     e y e s     [chapter 7]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; SWITCH!WOOZI, jihoon being a bit of a brat, mutual masturbation, blindfolds, cockwarming, some dirty talk 🥺💕 thank you to everyone for being so patient with me! Some new minor characters in this one too!! 💕💕 Also this chapter is abt 4k+ so strap in for the ride~ 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - x - x - x

The first thing Jihoon notices when he wakes up is that he feels cold despite being wrapped up in a ton of blankets.

His tired eyes scan the room, noticing he’s now in your shared bedroom and that the heaters and humidifiers had been moved into the space to help bring his temperature back up. A whimper escapes his lips as he shifts slightly, tiredly nuzzling into the soft sheets. He also picks up on familiar scents; eyes fixated on the door while not making any movements to get up.

And almost like he wills it, the door slams open, Mingyu on the other side with a worried face.

“Jihoon-hyung!! I’m here!!” The tall puppy hybrid bounds towards the bed, a fistfull of flowers in his grip as he kneels next to it. “I knew you were awake! Are you okay? Do you wanna eat?” Mingyu’s ears flatten atop his head in worry, tail swishing behind him as he leans closer into Jihoon’s face.

“You wanna cuddle?”

“...No.” Jihoon’s voice is hoarse, tugging the bed sheets up to cover his face. “Where is Seungcheol-hyung? I assume he’s here with you.” The puppy hybrid sits back, crossing his legs as he sits next to the bed on the floor.

“I think he’s still talkin’ to Wonwoo-hyung.” A lightbulb goes off in Jihoon’s head; that must’ve been the other hybrid that he had picked up on other than Mingyu. Wonwoo was a red panda hybrid and also a doctor on staff at Seungcheol’s. Jihoon never really saw him since he usually only came around when there was a medical issue, but he did remember Wonwoo from the few checkups he had while at Seungcheol’s.

“How long have you guys been here?” Mingyu sets his, clearly, stolen flowers on the nightstand, a pout on his lips as he stares at the ceiling.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for like 13 hours? I think we’ve been here since last night…”

“Wait… last night!?”

Mingyu quickly relays the info to him; letting Jihoon know what exactly happened while he was knocked out.

You had called Seungcheol immediately, letting him know that Jihoon had passed out in your arms and that he was colder than usual but breathing fine. Seungcheol had shown up with Mingyu in tow 20 minutes later, phone pressed up to his ear talking to Wonwoo when they had arrived.

Mingyu had helped transfer Jihoon into your bed while you and Seungcheol moved all the heaters and humidifiers to the bedroom and Wonwoo had shown up soon after to assess the situation.

“And?”

“Well, then Seungcheol-hyung and I slept in the living room on an air mattress but Wonwoo-hyung had to leave and just came back this morning. Hyung said we should stay overnight just in case, so we did! Um, I think one of the night shift nurses from the adoption home came by at some point?? It might’ve been Joshua-hyung but I was asleep so I’m not sure.” Jihoon asks about you; guilt washing over him almost immediately when he thought of how worried you must’ve been.

“Oh yeah, she was really worried! She slept on the floor in here if I remember correctly. But she’s out there talkin’ to ‘Cheol-hyung and Wonwoo-hyung. Did you want me to get them?”

“Yes, please, Mingyu.” The puppy hybrid gets up and leaves, yelling down the hallway that Jihoon was awake. The snake hybrid chuckles softly, sitting up as best as he can while he waits for you. His head feels fuzzy and a little lightheaded but when you cross the threshold of the bedroom he can’t help but break into a small smile.

“Jihoon! You’re awake!” You all but launch yourself at the bed, pulling him into a comforting hug as he nuzzles into your neck. He takes in your scent; something he had come to love so much. “I was so worried about you!”

“I know, I’m sorry...”

“Silly, don’t be sorry!” The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for a little longer as the other three males stand by the door, watching with fond eyes. But Wonwoo clears his throat, stepping closer towards the two of you. “Um, I hate to be that guy but I need to check how Jihoon’s doing…”

You nod, pulling away and letting Wonwoo do his job. His ears perk up as he gets closer to Jihoon, fluffy tail swishing behind him. You thought Wonwoo was a very cute hybrid. “Hey, bud.”

“Don’t call me that please…”

“Okay, sorry. Anyway, do you know what happened to you? Were you feeling ill or did you have any weird symptoms? Did you know you were getting sick?” Confusion paints Jihoon’s features as he listens to Wonwoo speak. Sick? He hadn’t even felt anything different.

“No… not at all. I mean, I--I was kinda sleepy so I went to lay down and I--I forgot to, um, turn on my heaters and stuff...”

“Is that all? Do you know how long you were asleep like that?”

“I g-guess a couple hours?” Wonwoo hums, “You didn’t feel weird? Like your temperature was dropping?” Jihoon shakes his head no, fingers playing with the sheets as Wonwoo checks his vitals again. “I was just… really tired I guess. I was feeling okay when I went in, and I didn’t--I wasn’t thinking straight. I guess I was distracted.” Wonwoo checks his temperature and heartbeat once more before he pulls away.

“Okay, I mean… your vitals were stable last night, this morning when Vernon came to check and right now. Your temperature is still kind of on the lower side though. You’ll probably feel a low-grade human cold, so sniffles, a bit of a cough, sore throat. Basic stuff. It’s nothing serious but you should probably keep all the heaters and humidifiers on through the night to help bring your temperature up. It’s still raining outside so avoid going outside too. You should be okay in a day or two, realistically.”

Nodding, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Is there any medication he can take?”

“I have some cold medication I can give Jihoon. It’ll just help with the sore throat and runny nose but his temperature is strictly based on how quickly his body stabilizes itself.” Wonwoo fixes his stare on Jihoon, making sure he understands. 

Jihoon nods in return.

Wonwoo leaves a small prescription of medication on the nightstand and gives you his direct number just in case you need it. You thank him, getting ready to walk the three males to the door but not before Mingyu stops you all in your places.

“Wait!! I wanna hug Jihoon-hyung if it’s okay?” Mingyu shoots Wonwoo a questioning look, the red panda hybrid nodding silently before he and Seungcheol start down the hall to the door. “Jihoon-hyung may I hug you?”

“...fine…” The puppy hybrid beams before walking over with open arms, slightly lifting the smaller male into his arms as he squeezes. “You need to come visit us sometime!! Seokmin misses you too, y’know!” Jihoon nods, gently returning the hug as he pats Mingyu on the back.

“I know, I’ve been meaning to, I just haven’t found the time. But I will.” Mingyu leans in closer, his lips close to Jihoon’s ear; his canines peeking out when he smirks.

“You should be careful about fuckin’ on the sofa too, y’know. I made Seungcheol-hyung sleep on it but imagine if he knew? Wonwoo-hyung and I could smell it from a mile away.”

“Good, you should know to keep your hands to yourself around here then?”

The three leave soon after and you decide to order in some food so the two of you could properly get some more rest; Jihoon settling back against the pillows as you lay next to him.

“How are you feelin’, Ji?”

“M’okay… A ‘lil sleepy but I think I slept a lot already. Might be itching for a nap in a bit or something.” You nod, intertwining your hand with his. “We can wait for the food to get in and then you can eat and maybe take some of your medicine. We can cuddle ‘til then though.” Not waiting for a reply, you scoot over, wrapping your arms around Jihoon from the side as he adjusts to accommodate you, tugging you into his arms. You nuzzle into his chest; a tiny frown on your face when you can feel the chill radiating off of his skin.

But Jihoon immediately relaxes in your touch, loving the warmth radiating from your body as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Mingyu said you slept on the floor? How come you didn’t sleep next to me?” There’s an underlying hurt in Jihoon’s voice that you catch, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to his exposed collarbone. “I would’ve but we didn’t know what was wrong or how sick you were. Wonwoo was worried it was more than a cold so he asked that we all kind of keep our distance, just in case. I had to beg him to let me even sleep in here, to be honest. He’s a pretty strict doctor, huh?” Jihoon smiles, pulling you closer until he can lay a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, he is. But he’s a good doctor. And as a hybrid he really understands how to take care of other hybrids. Joshua-hyung and Vernon are good nurses too. It’s pretty interesting that the doctor is a hybrid and the nurses are humans, right?”

“Mmm.. it’s a good thing though! Wonwoo would know best and the others are probably good at following his lead since he does. He’s also got a really fluffy tail, s’pretty cute.”

“Are you crushing on my doctor now? The same one that knows we fucked on the sofa?”

You break into a blush, ears burning red when you remember that hybrids had a better sense of smell than humans did. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, only getting up when the doorbell rings to let you know your delivery is in. You slide out of bed, giving Jihoon one last kiss before you exit the room.

Jihoon takes the time to think. He really did want to go visit the adoption home again; if only to visit the only other friends he’d come to know and like. And even though he always happily accompanied you on grocery runs and even a few times when you had to pop into the office, he figured a trip back was due sometime soon, for himself.

“Okay! I got the food~ Did you wanna eat now or later?” On cue, his stomach grumbles, a sheepish smile on his face as he sits up in bed. “I think now would be good.”

You set up on the nightstand, moving his medicine and Mingyu’s stolen flowers to your vanity. “Where did Mingyu even get these?”

“Trust me, none of us ever know. Back at the adoption home he always came back from walks with the weirdest stuff. One time he found a whisk outside and brought it back in. We still don’t know where he got it.” 

“I mean his heart is in the right place, at least?” Jihoon nods, watching as you grab the bowl of rice porridge and the spoon, sitting at the edge of the bed next to him.

“Are you gonna feed me too?”

“Shouldn’t I? My sick ‘lil baby needs some lovin’.” Jihoon rolls his eyes jokingly but lets you; secretly loving being pampered. The two of you soon fall into idle chatter, enjoying each other’s company while you feed the sick male.

“Oh, by the way…”

“Mm?”

“Mingyu mentioned me visiting them sometime soon so… I was thinking about doing that.”

“That’s fine with me! Maybe you can take Chan with you and introduce him to the others. I don’t know if he has that many friends either. He might like it?” Jihoon nods, asking you to ask Minghao what days were okay for Chan to come visit at some point within the next week. You promise to text Minghao soon, finishing up feeding Jihoon before you set down the bowl and get up to grab his medicine.

“I thought you didn’t like Chan, but I’m glad the two of you seem to hit it off.”

“What? When did I say that?”

“Well… you didn’t say it necessarily but need I remind you what you did to my panties last time?” Jihoon chuckles, a smirk gracing his features as he leans back. “No, I think the kid is nice. Just needs to know his place, y’know?”

“Okay well Mr. Possessive, Wonwoo said it’d be best for you to take these after you eat so I guess now’s a good time!” You pass him the medicine and a glass of water, making sure he takes it before you start to clean up around him.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“In a bit. You’re probably gonna start feeling the effects of the medicine soon, so it’s okay if you want to sleep, Ji. You probably need it so that you can get better quicker.” He watches you tidy up for a little while before his eyelids start to feel heavy, a yawn on his lips as he starts to settle back under the covers.

“Mm… ‘m jus… gonna nap a bit…”

When Jihoon comes to, 2 hours later, you’re in bed next to him working on your laptop. The drowsiness from his medicine was still apparent as he whines slightly to get your attention.

“Everything okay, Ji?”

“Just.. a ‘lil cold… can you cuddle with me?” You set your things aside on the nightstand, adjusting yourself until you’re spooning him from the side. “Still feeling sleepy?”

“Mmm… kinda… usually I’d eat you out by now or somethin’ though. I wish I wasn’t so weak, right now.” You snort. Of course Jihoon always had that in mind. “Is that all you think about? Eating me out?”

“I mean… it makes you extra warm. It feels good for me and for you too.” Ok, not wrong. An idea pops into your head and you bite the inside of your cheek wondering if it was too out of pocket to ask or not. But Jihoon can feel you tense up behind him, his body shifting in your arms until he’s facing you.

“Penny for your thoughts? I could feel your body going stiff.”

“Well… I have an idea… But I don’t know if you’ll be into it or not…” You blush, already kind of regretting even bringing it up, but you’ve already started so you decide to not hold back. “What if we tried… me being the dom?”

Jihoon can’t stop the thrum of arousal that shoots down his spine, already curious about what that entailed.

“I… yeah, let’s try it.”

You can’t help the way your throat feels dry as you rummage through your things; grabbing a silk ribbon and a vibrator from inside your dresser before you strip down to just your panties and bra.

Shockingly, Jihoon had been interested in your ideas, letting you take the reins as he got comfortable, soft pillows tucked underneath his head as he watched you. He couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed in his sweatpants, already anticipating what you had in store for him. “Ji? Wanna use the same safeword?”

“O-oh? Yeah, sure…”

You make your way back to the bed, instead sitting at the foot of the bed across from Jihoon. The room already feels warm with the humidifiers and the heaters going; a bead of sweat trickling down your temple as you set your things down next to you. There was no denying that you were already a little wet; the thought of Jihoon being a sub was always something you were curious about but unsure if he’d even let you have that much control.

“I want you to watch me first…”

Jihoon gulps, eyes trained on you as you spread your legs slightly. You grab the vibrator, setting it to its lowest setting before you start to drag it across your body, up your torso and towards your lips, licking the silicone before sending him a smile.

“You can touch yourself too, if you wanna. But no cumming.”

Jihoon processes your words but doesn’t move, too fixated on you to even care about himself.

He watches you drag the toy back down, running it across your thighs before you press it against your clothed slit, a mewl on your lips as soon as soon as you feel the vibrations. “Mmh, Jihoon…” Jihoon licks his lips, eyes focused on the way your toes curl against the sheets and your legs only spread open wider.

“C--can you take off your p-panties…”

“Hmm? Do you think you deserve it?”

“Y-yes…” You shoot him a sultry smile, setting the vibrator down for a second before you unhook your bra, tossing the material to the floor before you shimmy your panties down your legs. This time, you throw the material towards Jihoon, letting it hit him in the chest as you giggle.

You return to what you were doing, picking up the vibrator as you bring it to your folds again, slowly bringing the toy towards your clit. Jihoon’s mouth opens in a quiet moan the same time yours does, his fingertips gripping the sheets tightly. “Fuck, I wanna touch you so bad…”

“I know you do, but that’s not how we’re playing right now, baby boy.”

The nickname sends a shiver up his spine almost instantaneously.

Jihoon keeps his eyes trained on you as he moves the bed sheets off himself, hesitating for a second before he takes his clothes off as well. “Shit, it’s c-cold…”

“Oh, I know, baby. Don’t worry though. I’ll warm you up soon, okay?” He nods as he takes the panties you’d throw at him and grips the material in his hand. His cock is already half hard, curving towards his abdomen as he brings the material towards it. You watch as he wraps your panties around his cock, using the material to get off on while he watches you too.

The room is undeniably hot; only getting worse when you turn the vibrations higher, a wrecked moan cutting through the air when you press the toy harder against your clit. You can feel the wetness starting to gather on the toy as you drag it down your folds; spreading your legs as wide as you can to give Jihoon a show.

“Wanna fuck me yet, Ji?”

Jihoon’s jaw clenches at your words, his grip on his cock tightening ever so slightly.

“Just as much as I know you wanna sit on my cock.”

Touché.

Jihoon is slightly hesitant when you clamber into his lap, silk ribbon in between your fingertips.

“You gotta trust me, baby. I let you tie me up with my ripped up panties, I’m sure you can be blindfolded for a bit, can’t you?” He nods, licking his lips out of nervousness. “You can always use our safeword if you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

“Okay… I trust you.”

You lean over, wrapping the silk ribbon around his head until his eyes are covered with the soft material.

“Everything okay so far? Not too tight?” He shakes his head no, giving you the okay to continue as you tie a pretty bow to finish it off.

And despite Jihoon’s initial hesitation, he can’t deny the way his body already feels so much warmer with your skin touching his; the sensation heightened now that his vision was diminished. He feels your hands snaking down his torso, your lips on his collarbone leaving soft kisses, and he can’t help but think that he can get used to this.

But the part that Jihoon loves is when you finally sit on his cock, lowering yourself onto him until he’s fully sheathed inside your warmth. Goosebumps are all over your skin when you do; Jihoon’s temperature still colder than usual.

“How are you feeling, baby boy?”

“Fuh--feels g--good…”

Without saying anything, Jihoon keeps his hands to himself, sliding them underneath the pillows as he digs his hands into the soft material. “Fuck, you’re so hot and w-wet around me…” He finishes with a moan, just wanting to plant his feet on the bed and thrust up into you. But Jihoon knows his limits and knows his body is still weak so he lets you sit on his cock, clenching around him every so often. And if Jihoon is being completely honest, just having you do this much was already doing wonders for his body.

“Ngh, I could live like this, y’know.”

“Oh? Just me sitting on your cock?”

“Mmhmm, I’d make you sit on it all day. Then I’d make you beg me to let you cum.” There’s a cocky smirk on his lips and you can almost see the smolder in his eyes through the blindfold.

“Yeah? Just like the way I’m going to make you beg me to let you cum?” Jihoon suddenly hears the vibrator come back to life, hearing it come closer as you press the silicone toy against his torso. He swallows thickly, his head suddenly feeling insanely hot as you bring the toy to a nipple, letting the vibrations assault his skin.

“Fuck! Fuck, please, okay, okay!” He whimpers right after, unable to decide if he wants to arch into the feeling or away from it from how ticklish he was. “Fu--fuck, you’re a demon. You really are.” You turn the toy off, tossing it next to him as you lean in close.

“Oh, I am. But you are too. It’s why we’re so compatible.”

Time passes slowly for Jihoon as you run your hands all over his skin. The urge to cum is undeniable as he tries to stave it off for what feels like the 8th time. 

However, you can already notice a difference in his body temperature which makes you happy, despite the interesting situation.

“I can’t believe you got sick. And that one of the ways to get your temperature up is… this.”

“Honestly? No complaints.” You clench around him for effect, a mewl cutting through the air from the snake hybrid. “Ugh, please… please f-fuck me…” A cherry blush coats Jihoon’s skin as he mutters.

“Can’t take it anymore?”

“N--no, I can’t I--I want to cum, please. I need you to do something, I’m fucking going crazy...”

“Okay, but you can only cum after I have.”

You grab the toy again, letting it buzz to life in your hand before you press it to your clit. Simultaneously, you start to bounce on his cock, alternating between that and grinding down onto his lap as Jihoon fights the urge to push you over and take control.

The room smells of sex; moans bouncing off the walls as you chase your orgasm. “Can you take off the blindfold, I wanna see you…” You figure Jihoon’s been good enough, so you oblige, tugging the bow undone as he pulls the material down. And once his eyes adjust to the light, he takes in your body, watching as his cock disappears into your pussy as you hold the vibrator to your clit. “Fuck yes, make yourself cum on my cock.” Jihoon can feel you getting tighter around him, urging you with pretty praise to fall apart on his cock.

“C’mon, cum for me. I can feel your ‘lil cunt getting so tight around me.” You moan in response, setting the toy to a higher setting before you cry out Jihoon’s name, thighs trembling as you feel yourself cumming.

Jihoon feels a twinge of electricity go through his body as he sees red for a second, pushing you onto your back in the midst of your orgasm. And you have no time to figure out what’s going on before he’s pounding into you; thrusts erratic as he chases his own orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re insane. It took me everything to not pin you down to the bed and just fuck you senseless. And don’t get me wrong, it felt nice to be pampered and doted on but… Fuck, I love fucking you just like this too.”

Jihoon keeps your hand that still has the vibrator in it, pinned to your clit, making you whimper. “Aww, cute ‘lil baby still cumming?” You nod shakily, the overstimulation biting into you slowly as you squirm underneath him. “S’okay, I’m gonna cum inside your pussy now that you’ve had your fun.” He starts grinding against you, growling slightly when he starts to feel himself cum. And he can’t tell if it’s because he had already been feeling lightheaded, but his orgasm feels ten times as intense; tingles spreading all the way down to his fingertips as he cums inside of you.

You moan at the feeling of being filled, your shaky legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in closer. Jihoon pulls your hand away, the vibrator falling to the sheets as he pins your arms down to the bed instead. He watches as you catch your breath, your post-orgasmic face cute to him. 

“God, you’re so perfect for me baby.” He leans down, kissing you on the lips gently as he comes down from his high. You lay underneath him completely exhausted, letting him keep you pressed into the sheets as he enjoys your warmth.

“Fu--ck, Ji, I... how are you even?? Where?? The energy???” You words are jumbled, confusion painted across your features as he smirks down at you. 

“Maybe you took home an incubus and you didn’t know.” 

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #woozi #lee jihoon

[evelynnendless]

Drenched

Disclaimer : hint of semi-NSFW(?) ,  Also maybe a slight spoiler, don’t really know since I got spoiled from a stream! Just beware. You can replace Jinx with your name, it is a female but I do plan to make more that are both genders don’t worry! I wrote these stories mostly based on one or more characters already. 

“I swear if he makes up another shitty excuse I’m not going on a commission with him ever.” Jinx cursed as she brushed her wet hair out her face. “Miss, we should head back before you fall ill.” Warwick advised as she laughed softly. “ Fine, thank you for your assistance today. Rest well.” Jinx said before dismissing him before she felt her chest tighten. She coughed harshly as she felt her forehead, “Fucking asshole, I swear he cancels 95% of the things last minute.” As Jinx teleported back to Liyue, she was looking around making her way to the place. The Fatui members looked at her, “ Look I’m not in the mood to argue today. If you don’t mind me coming in to drop these commissions, Childe was supposed to do it with me.” They loosen up before one opened the door for her. The girl at the desk looked over to her, “ Oh Childe is-“ “ Please I don’t care about his whereabouts now, I finished these for him since he abandoned me.” Jinx said as she coughed into her hands after giving the papers. “Miss, are you sure you are okay??” The girl went around as she held her shoulder. Another member came to check as he felt her forehead, “She's burning, go get her into a room near Childe. I’ll go get a doctor.” 

They helped her up and into a room as the female help her get changed into warmer clothes . “ I’ll take care of your clothes and get the doctor.” Jinx nodded as she was breathing heavily from the heat. ‘Why were they helping me…’ She thought as she passed out. 

Childe was coming back as he shook the water out his hair, “ Ah, I swear I had to collect debt and deal with so much more. I wonder if she got back safely .” He talked to himself looking out the window. The doctor was coming downstairs as Childe raised an eyebrow, “ Excuse me sir is someone hurt ?” He asked as the doctor was getting his umbrella. “ Oh no, someone got sick from the rain so I just gave her some medicine and instructions to stay in bed.” The doctor said as Childe’s eyes widen realizing before thanking him rushing up the stairs. “She’s resting, keep it down okay?” The girl said getting up before she walked out the room. Childe looked at Jinx laying in bed as she was cuddled up into a pillow. His heart stung a bit knowing she was only sick because of him, he walked over quietly as he felt her forehead when he changed the towel. “I’m sorry.” Childe whispered as he sat down looking at her resting figure only hearing her breathing and occasionally coughing. He frowned looking at the time, “I’ll be back,” he said petting her head softly before leaving to shower and eat dinner. 

Jinx woke up to someone shaking her softly sitting up, “ Thank you…” she said in a weak voice. “ You can leave, I’ll take care of her.” Childe announced as the girl nodded before excusing herself. The door shut as Jinx kept eating her soup slowly, “ Look I’m sorry I left you again,” “Can we talk about this when my voice is actually working?” Jinx croaked out as she drank her warm tea after. Childe looked disappointed before nodding, “ Just .. Just listen okay?” He asked sitting down on the end of the bed. Jinx didn’t reply but he took it as a chance to explain himself. “I know it’s a shit excuse but I've been trying to handle everything going on. So that my brother doesn’t have to come here, we don’t want him to not see me when he’s here. To get a chance to spend time with him and pay attention to him. I am sorry letting you handle everything by yourself for the past week, now you’re sick.” Childe explained as he brushed her hair back. “I’m really sorry.” He whispered as Jinx placed her tray on the nightstand. “It’s … it’s fine , I guess I understand. At least tell me prior, I was going to cuss you out the second I saw you today.” Jinx said as he chuckled looking at her weak state. “Don’t tell me you’re about to cry seeing me like this, you big baby. What happened to the fighter I met when we had our battle?” Jinx giggled softly seeing him hold her hands kissing them softly and holding them there. “Come here you must be tired.” She whispered as her throat hurt pulling him into her arms laying down. Childe laid on her chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly after getting under the sheets, “Not as much as you are, I’ll take care of you.” He whispered as she nodded playing with his hair. “Mm, I know. Let’s just sleep for now…” Jinx whispered as they fell asleep like that. 

-A week later-

Jinx was getting ready at Childe’s place, “I can’t believe that idiot lost my clothes..” she muttered as she took the outfit that the girl gave her. She took a look in the mirror as she fixed her hair tying it up before walking out. There were some glances that she noticed but kept walking towards the harbor to meet with Childe to help gather some things, ‘Wonder what he needed today…’ Childe was waiting for her as he told some of the members to start gathering already. His eyes caught the black-hair styled into a ponytail as he waved, “ Darling! I was wondering if you were going to bail one me to..” He paused in awe at what she was wearing. “Don’t ask and also I wouldn’t do that since I get my shit done.” Jinx said, walking past him as he caught her arm pulling her back into him. Childe leaned down into her ear, “What are you trying to pull, sweetheart? From what I can tell these used to be my old clothes before they shrank” he whispered as Jinx blushed turning her head away. “She lost my clothes so she gave me these, would you let go we have things to do…” she muttered. Childe laughed as he stood back up keeping his arm around her waist, “We sure do, but …” He leaned back down. 

“You’ll be staying with me after this right?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #childexreader #childe #tartaglia #fem!reader

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 14)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

“So then,” Patton was saying. “We ran to the stables.”

“We went to gazebo first,” Logan cut in.

“Right, we tried to go to the gazebo first,” Patton corrected, “but Mr. Deknis was over there tending to the tomatoes, and we knew he’d tell Mama the second he saw us. So, then we turned around and went to the stables.”

Virgil tilted his head, listening to the story Patton was telling. Patton was not the best storyteller. He tended to get lost in the middle and embellish, though Logan always corrected him. It was still very entertaining to watch though because he got incredibly animated. He’d even toppled himself over in excitement a couple of times.

Virgil squeezed the small pillow he had in his lap. He… wasn’t 100% sure what was going on. Logan and Patton had settled him on the blanket covered ground near Logan’s bed and proceeded to feed him snacks and talk about a lot of different things. It had started with them talking about what they’d done that day, and when Patton had made reference to something Virgil hadn’t understood, the two of them ended up talking about things from their childhood.

Virgil found himself entranced by their stories about playing in and running around the castle. It was all so different from what Virgil had experienced.

“…but, right as we were about to get to the ladder to climb up into the hay loft, Logan tripped!” Patton said, arms whipping around him. “He fell into a container of grain for the horses and it spilled all over the place. He tried to get up but grabbed the edge of the water trough and apparently it wasn’t very secure because it fell over and soaked him. So, then he was wet and covered in grain. He looked hilarious.”

“I did not!” Logan protested, but it did not sound like all of the other times he’d corrected Patton’s stories that night.

Patton looked over at him. “You did! You woke up the cute stable hand and he laughed himself silly at you, and by the time we got you even partially cleaned up, your dad had already found us. That’s how we got caught.”

“I have no recollection of these events,” Logan clearly lied, his cheeks a bit flushed.

“Liar,” Patton claimed. “You complained about picking grain out of your sheets for weeks.”

“No,” Logan growled.

“Yes! It’s okay. It was a good laugh.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed on him, and he looked pissed, but a second later, his expression lightened up. “You know what else was a ‘good laugh’?” he asked.

There was a second of silence before…

“Don’t you dare Logan.”

Logan looked Patton directly in the eye. “Patton was thirteen,” Logan started, but was interrupted the next moment when Patton lobbed a pillow at his head. Logan grabbed the pillow and leaned forward to smack Patton back with it. “He was thirteen and had just ‘discovered boys’ as his mother and my father called it when they attempted to explain his behavior to me. The focus of said ‘discovering’ at the time was the son of an ambassador from Lamir” who was staying for the summer, a seventeen-year-old boy by the name Bernardo.”

Virgil flinched back as Patton suddenly threw himself across the semicircle they’d made with their bodies to tackle Logan to the ground. He watched as they ineffectually wrestled on the ground for a few seconds before Logan, voice strained, continued to speak, while battling Patton’s hands away from his mouth.

“Patton’s only knowledge about flirting… ow… at that point was laughing at everything someone said and touching their arms and shoulders.” Logan managed to flip himself onto his stomach which was a horrible move as far as Virgil was concerned. It put him at a disadvantage to get out of the pin. However, Patton just kept reaching for his mouth and didn’t bare down on his neck to try to cut off his oxygen like Virgil expected. So, perhaps it was a rational move. “Our parents were speaking leaving Patton, Bernardo, and I in the garden,” Logan mumbled into the ground. “Bernardo said something ‘funny’ and Patton went to slap his shoulder while laughing but shoved too hard… Patton did you just lick my face?!”

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up!” Patton threatened. That was a… weird fighting strategy.

Logan paused to consider his options. “He shoved Bernardo into the fountain and when Bernardo asked him why he did that, he ran away and wouldn’t talk to him the rest of the summer!” Logan rushed out.

Patton reached over and grabbed the nearest pillow, proceeding to whack him viciously in the back of the head. Logan was lucky the nearest object was a pillow and not something any sturdier. “It’s not funny!” Patton yelled, smacking him even more, which was when Virgil realized Logan was laughing despite the pinning and pillow pummeling. “It’s not!” Patton said. “I really liked him!!”

“He was seventeen!” Logan said. “It was never going to happen!”

Patton groaned and rolled off of Logan to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling. “But he had so many muscles,” Patton said. “He probably could have thrown me 10 yards.”

“And that is… a benefit?” Logan asked, rolling over onto his side to face him.

“You don’t. Get me.” Patton tilted his head to look at Virgil. “Anyway,” he said. “That is the story of how I died at 13.”

Virgil stared at him, and Patton’s forehead crinkled looking at him.

“Is something wrong, honey?” he asked.

 “What was that?” Virgil asked.

“What was what?”

Virgil just blinked at him. Patton seemed to think for a moment.

“Oh, did you think we were fighting?” Patton asked. “Like, really fighting?”

“You weren’t fighting?” Virgil asked.

“No, sweetie,” Patton said. “We were just playing.” He popped up into a sitting position. “Well, play fighting, but emphasis on play!”

Virgil looked over at Logan for confirmation. “No one is harmed nor was there any intention to harm each other,” he assured.

Patton grabbed the pillow he’d been smacking Logan with. “Like this!” he said. “Bap.” Unlike how he’d smacked Logan ruthlessly, he basically just touched Virgil’s shoulder with it.

Virgil squinted at him.

“Bap!” Patton said again, smacking him once more, this time with a little bit more force and on the cheek. Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “Pillow fight!”

“Pillow fight?”

“You try,” he said, pointing to the pillow in Virgil’s lap.

Virgil glanced down at the bands around his wrist. “Um…” he said. “I don’t think I can?”

“Oh, right,” Patton said with a frown. He bit his lip and glanced over at Logan. “Maybe…”

“Ill-advised,” Logan said.

“But…” Patton said. “Pillow fight.”

“We would have to be very cautious and make sure there were no weapons in the area.”

“No weapons but pillows!”

“Fine,” Logan relented to whatever was going on. “Let’s clear the area.” Virgil watched them with mounting confusion as they removed everything within a few meters radius of him except for pillows and blankets.

“There!” Patton said after a minute. “All done!”

“What are you doing?” Virgil said.

“We’re going to have a pillow fight,” Patton said.

“But I…”

“We’ll temporarily allow your restraints to be in the third setting like when you’re in the closet.”

Were they serious? Were they stupid? Virgil could have killed them dozens of times with the second setting and now they were giving him even more range of motion?

“You have to promise not to try to hurt anyone though,” Patton said. Virgil stared at him dumbly, as Patton held out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Patton nodded solemnly. “We lock pinky fingers and make a promise. It’s the most binding promise in the universe.”

Virgil looked at his finger, confused. He’d never heard of that type of deal. “What kind of magic is it?”

“No magic,” Patton said. “Just friendship.” Virgil tilted his head but brought his hand up so Patton could twine their fingers together. “Now, promise you won’t hurt anyone.”

“I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” he said.

“It’s a deal!” said Patton, squeezing Virgil’s finger with his own briefly before drawing away. “I trust you.” Virgil felt a rush of something that was no type of magic he’d ever come into contact before but was definitely far more powerful.

Logan came over to them and waved his hand over the restraints on Virgil. They buzzed slightly and Virgil looked between them. “So, I just hit you with pillows?”

“Try not to hit too hard near the face, and Lo and I should probably take off our glasses before we start, but yeah,” Patton said, taking his glasses off as he said it. It was yet another foolish move on his part. “It’s fun, and it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay…” Virgil said.

“I will demonstrate,” Logan said as he took a pillow and smacked Patton in the stomach.

“Hey! No fair!” Patton giggled. “We haven’t started yet!” This did not deter Logan however, as he continued to smack Patton with a pillow.

“On the contrary,” he said. “It has started, and we’re getting you first.”

“No,” Patton whined, but the way he crumpled to the ground under the onslaught seemed far too staged to make Virgil worry. He didn’t even try to curl up into a ball or protect his head, just taking the hits and giggling.

Logan looked up at Virgil and motioned with his head. Virgil inched over and looked down at Patton. Logan slowed for a few moments. “Go on,” he urged.

Virgil bit his lip and reached forward to smack Patton lightly with his pillow which seemed to do nothing to him but renew his peels of giggles. From there, it was easy to continue. Logan picked up the pace of his strikes and he and Virgil proceeded to ‘fight’ Patton until he couldn’t breathe through his laughter and pushed the pillows away, curling up on his side to recover. Virgil took the cue from Logan to cease their attack.

“Now what?” Virgil asked when Patton sat up.

“Now I get vengeance!” Patton said, popping to his feet and smacking Logan in the face. “Help me Virgil!” So, Virgil turned on Logan and he and Patton gave the prince the same treatment. Then, because it was only fair, it was Virgil’s turn, though they were a lot more careful with him then they’d been with each other, and really Patton spent more of the time checking in on Virgil then actually hitting him with the pillow. It was nice. Fun. And when Virgil pushed them away, they pulled back.

Then, it was Patton’s turn again and they went around teaming up on each other and sometimes just smacking at each other at random.

Eventually, they slowed, and all ended up laying near each other on the floor.

“Well, that made me hungry,” Patton said, sitting up and stretching. “I asked Mama to make us a bunch of mini sandwiches. I’ll go get them.”

He hopped to his feet to walk over to where they’d stored the food earlier in those little glowing magical balls Logan had for food preservation.

Logan and Virgil sat up too, and Virgil offered him his wrists.

“Right,” Logan said with a blink. He made a motion and Virgil could feel the magic weighing down his hands once again. He’d almost forgotten, Virgil thought with an internal sigh. They’d given an assassin free range of motion, had a pillow fight with him, and almost forgotten to restrain him again. What was Virgil going to do with these idiots?

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 15

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas #adriana writes #not pieces fic #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #assassination attempt #knives #implied/referenced child abuse #torture mentioned #captivity

[greenygreenland]

Padawan pt 2: (platonic) Anakin & Reader

Tags:

-pt. 2

-read pt. 1 here

-please like and reblog and comment

-if you have any ideas for my next works then please give me some

Summary:

Anakin begins to warm up to you after weeks of indifference and the cold shoulder.

(Y/n) could have been deaf for all she knew. The shouting, the explosions, and the crying were practically nonexistent to her. Limp bodies and scraps of metal landed by her side, but it could have been as if they hadn’t even moved. Her head pounded, her clammy hands shook, and her knees wobbled under her. Her fingers went limp and her saber fell to her feet. It was then that (Y/n) realised her only desire: to sleep.

"Commander!"

Commander, she thought. I'm a commander in the battlefield. 

(Y/n) staggered into a fighting stance, but her body felt so, so heavy that she collapsed to her knees. Stars, why couldn’t she stand?

“Man down! We need a medic!”

(Y/n) didn't quite process what that meant. Man down? Medic? What was that? Was the guy even speaking Basic? Someone knelt by her side and hastily lifted her shirt. (Y/n) would have protested, but her limbs refused to move. 

“Stay awake!”

Who was that? Through the haze her vision provided, (Y/n) made out the blurry face of Anakin Skywalker, her Master. He may have wrapped something around her torso or slapped her--whichever, (Y/n) couldn't tell. All feeling disappeared, and whatever logic she could conjure faded into questions. Her eyes fluttered closed. 

That didn't sit well with Anakin, because he gave her cheeks a light tap.

"Would you listen to me and stay awake?!" His yodelling and yapping made (Y/n)'s head spin. "Dammit, where the kriff is Kix?" (Y/n) lazily blinked. She wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t. What if Anakin got angry with her? What would he do then? 

"Kix!" he shouted. "Kix...ill...e...ight?"

(Y/n) closed her eyes.

"I...ure...gen..."

She couldn't fight the darkness. It reeled her in, coaxed her into its comforting arms.

"No! Wa...up!"

(Y/n) fell asleep.

Running. That was the first thing she started with. Her legs moved at incredible speeds, pushing her deeper and deeper into the dark, misty forest. Dried leaves crunched under her as she trampled over patches of grass and over tree roots. She knew running would be in vain, but she was scared. Scared of seeing her again, scared of facing what she’s seen and experienced. 

"Dear, why do you keep running?"

(Y/n) couldn't breathe. The forest closed in on her. It came loser and closer until it boxed her in a thick layer of vegetation. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide as she trembled like the leaves above her. "L-leave me alone!" The leaves to her left began to sway on the tree branches. (Y/n) pulled her guard up and kept a trained eye on the vegetation.

"Are you not Mandalorian?" the voice teased. "Where is that will to fight? All you are is a coward!" (Y/n)'s hand slid to her belt. Her fingers closed around the area where her lightsaber should have been, only to be met with air.

"You’re useless without your lightsaber." The voice let out a high-pitched cackle. "At times like this, one begins to realise that physical pain can only hurt so much." (Y/n) wildly spun in a circle. Her heart slammed against her chest at an irrational rhythm as she blindly squinted at nothing but green brush. “Show--show yourself!” she shouted.

A sudden movement caught her eye and (Y/n) sharply turned to the left. Instead of a tree, a tall, shadow-like woman leapt out from the brush.

"Leave me alone!"

The woman let out another cackle as if she were enjoying the galaxy's greatest joke. Her long figure loomed over (Y/n) as she laughed. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed. The darkness suddenly swept over her.

"NO!”

(Y/n) heaved in heavy breaths. She couldn’t breathe. 

"Hey, hey." 

(Y/n) wouldn’t have believed Anakin had talked to her if he weren’t sitting at her bedside right now. “You’re safe.” he said. “It’s okay.” (Y/n) didn’t know if she wanted to scream, yell, or cry. Why was he being so nice? Why was he the first person she woke up to? Why was he pretending like this?

It was clear Anakin sensed her confusion because he tried for one of his classic smiles. (Y/n) blinked. It was the first time his smile was directed at her. Usually, it would be towards his men, or Obi-wan when he commed him--but never her. She was a side-character. A nobody. A replacement for Ahsoka.

“You almost died you know.” Anakin started. “I don’t know how, but you were bleeding.” (Y/n) fiddled with her hands silently. Maybe it would have been better if I died.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/n) flinched. “I-I didn’t say anything...” Anakin frowned. “Yes you did. You said that it would have been ‘better’ if you died.” He released a long sigh and an uncomfortable quiet settled in the muted room. Anakin folded his arms across his chest in thought. 

All (Y/n) wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and hide. She didn’t know what her master was thinking--heck, she didn’t even know what kind of person he was--and that scared her the most. Would he punish her? Yell at her? Hate her forever?

“Look.” 

(Y/n) seemed to curl in on herself. 

“I’m...”

She prepared to make a break for the doors. 

“...sorry.”

What?

Her eyes were wide as she stared at Anakin’s apologetic expression. (Y/n) couldn’t remember the last time someone apologised to her face like that. “I’m a terrible master. All I’ve done is ignore you. I’m supposed to teach you, but I’m so caught up in...” He sighed. “You almost died. I don’t think I could live with myself knowing that you thought I hated you.” 

(Y/n)’s shoulders slumped. She went completely limp in shock. Sorry. He was sorry. Anakin knitted his brows together. He wondered if he said something wrong to upset his padawan. “Why are you crying?” (Y/n) shook her head dismissively in an attempt to suppress her tears. “I’m fine.” 

“How is crying fine?” Anakin inquired. “What’s wrong my little padawan?”

She bawled right then and there. “No one’s ever apologised to me in years.” she cried. “My masters were terrifying, and I thought you’d be exactly like them.” Anakin thought back to what the council said to him all those weeks ago.

She was chosen at eleven.

He had noted that that was too young.

He was not kind.

Anakin's gaze landed on (Y/n), who sat in a heap of sheets. Her shoulders heaved as she tried with all her might to ground herself.

When we found out about the mistreatment, we transferred (Y/n) to yet another master.

“I’m sorry.” he said. “I promise I'll be a better master.” Anakin held out a hand as a sign of peace. (Y/n) eyed his hand for ten painful seconds before firmly shaking it with a sniffle.

Bonus:

Six months later

Anakin couldn't have been prouder. After nearly being wiped out by a battalion of droids, he was absolutely whipped, but that didn't stop him from walking over to his padawan and ruffling her hair with a grin.

This wasn't the quiet girl he met all those months ago. She was a different person now. Better, confident, and most importantly, happy. "See? Jumping out of ships isn't that scary." he said. (Y/n) huffed. "Well, I could have crashed into that cliff over there."

"But you didn't."

"And that doesn't change the fact that that was dangerous." a voice piped up. Master and padawan whipped around to face Obi-wan, who placed a hand on his hip and raised a brow. "Obi-wan! I didn't know you were here." Anakin said. He rolled his eyes in reply and motioned for the duo to follow him into battle.

"That's because you didn't get my comm. Now come along, this battle won't win itself."

Anakin and (Y/n) exchanged glances. In that moment, not even a Separatist ambush could ruin their day. "Most kill count has to buy lunch at Dexter's." Anakin said. He broke into a sprint, dodging and skillfully deflecting blaster fire. (Y/n) shook her head.

"That's not fair Master! You got a head-start!"

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #star wars x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars the clone wars x reader #anakin skywalker

[hydra-collector]

Whole: Chapter One

AO3

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Second Fic in the Series

Chapters Finished: 6/6

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders (minor)

TW: self-harm, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, food, sex mention

Words: 3,630

Summary: 

Logan can't feel.

Because every time he does, someone gets hurt. His emotions have no place in the world. He vows to squash them down until finally, maybe they'll be gone. But it's not a good idea to suppress such an important part of yourself, to tear your sadness, happiness, anger, until you're left dry and empty.

And Logan doesn't understand that until he meets someone. Someone very, very special.

Note: I actually have this finished, it will be updating daily. I’m likely going to write some extra works, later in Remus and Logan’s lives.

Why are you yelling? Stop yelling, stop.

Logan didn’t know what else to do. He had to tell them why this was happening, they were wrong, he couldn’t control this. It was awful, this awful feeling that made him completely unable to focus while incredibly worried about how he wasn’t focusing. He was just trying to tell them why.

 But he didn’t have to yell.

He had no reason to be angry at them. They did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his mom. He wanted her to understand what this was like. The fuzzy mold that dug into his brain and gave him fears that he didn’t want. The bricks that crawled into his chest and weighed him down and he couldn’t get up. But she didn’t understand them and he couldn’t explain, so he yelled.

 He hated yelling. It hurt, it scratched, he knew it was bad and he should stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to cry and he did cry, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to destroy something, he was angry, he wanted to punch someone.

 He couldn’t.

 He was nine, he shouldn’t be doing this to his mother. She was good and kind, and all he did was hurt her. He was awful to her, and she tried to help, but he couldn’t stop from getting annoyed, or angry, or sad. He couldn’t help but wail when the bricks got too heavy, he wanted them to be lighter. He had to move, had to hit something when the fears wouldn’t go away. He was scared his mother hated him, that she would abandon him with his brother. It didn’t make any sense, but he knew what he was doing to her and he didn’t stop. He was too much work for her.

 Two years later, he was the same. Still loud, still full of emotions. His throat hurt all the time, his mother kept getting fed up (she’d tried to take him to a therapist and that didn’t work), his brother Patton was scared for his health, and his dog wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. He’d developed ways to stop bothering them, though. Hold his hand to his mouth and bury his head in the pillow until the frustration went away. Bite his arm so he couldn’t keep screaming. Hit his head again and again and again until he couldn’t be angry anymore. It hurt. It was calming.

 He’d managed to become a bit less of a nuisance, at least. He’d tried to stop explaining the bricks and the mold and just let them be. They always fade after a while to something manageable. His tears were his own now. His emotions were his, and no one else needed them.

 He tried to be happier for his mom. He spent more time with Patton, trying to make him happy. Patton was concerned for him, and he appreciated that, but he knew asking for help would only make them suffer, and they weren’t allowed to suffer. Only he could suffer.

 He vowed to become a robot someday. Where he didn’t want to scream or hurt people. Someday it would be gone, everything would be okay. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids that he didn’t hurt like the people he loved now. They would love him and he would deserve it.

 Another two years and it had a name.

 Depression. Anxiety. Mental illness. They told him what he was and he hated himself even more. He was a thirteen year old being told that he’d been sick since he was a child. He was given ways to cope. He’d never tried to bleed.

 He did the day he learned he could.

 It was freeing. Hitting and biting was hard, but slicing his skin was so easy and so pretty. The blood that rose from within told him that he was a person, and an awful one. If anyone ever saw, it would be the end of this.

 He didn’t yell anymore. Most of the time he was absolutely silent. Yes, he participated in class so he didn’t get a bad grade, but only the bare minimum. He never raised his voice, never allowed himself to laugh too loud. His brother was scared for him, but he didn’t know the half of it. He had few friends, only one other anxious teen named Virgil. He felt more comfortable talking about fear and self-hate, but only in a joking way. He had to close himself off from everyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone.

 His mother had, again, tried to get him to go to therapy. She said it would help his anxiety. God, she didn’t even know. He stopped cutting his arms pretty early on, since his mother got concerned that he always wore long sleeves. His legs got all the more blood on them.

 How could he have this with people who care? How could he hate himself this much when nothing had ever happened to him? Why had this ever happened?

 He didn’t know.

 Fifteen was his worst year yet.

 He’d made so many friends this year, yet it all got worse. He felt like he couldn’t breathe most days, like every day he was dying. He wanted that, he wanted this feeling gone. How could he heal after eight god damn years?

 It was a warm October morning today. The sun shone on his back, glittering across the autumn leaves. The normally boring school looked orange and majestic. Students laughed and chatted as he passed by.

 It had been a bad month. He was sure that he’d only been happy for a couple hours in the past thirty days. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed himself yet.

 Patton was talking to him about something, probably about another cute kid. Ever since he’d come out as pan, he’d endlessly talked about the people he found attractive. It was exhausting for Logan to hear his brother point out girls he might like. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come out.

 He wanted to date. It might be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle, to offer comfort when the days got bad. To have more comfort than cold, sharp blades. He couldn’t do that, though. He’d hurt enough people already.

 Still, he couldn’t help but fantasize about some guy that would share his interest in science, talk to him about space and chemistry and biology. He wasn’t good enough for someone like that. Someone that would never date him.

 He waved to Roman and Virgil as they passed. They were probably scheming some new way to get out of doing classwork. Logan sped up, realizing it was nearly time for him to organize Ms. Kachinsky’s books. He had to finish before she left her room in the morning to teach. There was supposed to be another kid, too, so he couldn’t be late.

 “Hey, Lo, where’re you going?”

 “Kachinsky, remember?”

 “Ohhh, yeah.”

 The building was cold inside. He headed into his teacher’s room, decorated blandly with supposedly motivational posters. He’d volunteered to do this job, no one else was going to organize encyclopedias for a 70-year-old woman. He didn’t know why she even had so many.

 As he walked into the half-renovated closet, he was presented with many emotions.

 One, this man was munching on a sheet of paper.

 Two, he was not adhering to the dress code.

 Three, Logan was glad he wasn’t because a crop top and booty shorts looked damn good on him.

 “Um. Hello.”

 The teenager looked up, paper in hand. He stood up and tossed it in the trash, swallowing. Logan pointed slightly to the trash can.

 “You were eating a piece of paper.”

 “Yeah?”

 “That doesn’t seem like it should be healthy.”

 “I looked it up, it’s pretty much fine. Are you here to start on the books?”

 Logan nodded and the two of them got to work in silence. The boy was pretty, he had a slight mustache that doesn’t work for many people, but it did for him. He looked a little like Roman, but with a broader build and stronger jaw. He was exactly the type of person that Logan would have designed as the most attractive, in his opinion, if he would have ever designed an attractive man.

 “How’d you get roped into this?”

 The boy turned his brown eyes to look at Logan expectantly, who wasn’t expecting any kind of interaction with him.

 “I volunteered.”

 “Oh, teacher’s pet?”

 “She’s 70. No one else was going to help.”

 “Fair. This is my substitute for detention ‘cause I have to work after school. I’m Remus.”

 He stuck out his hand, which Logan took.

 “Logan.”

 “Oh, really? I was kinda looking into that name. One of my friends stole it, though.”

 A look of confusion crossed over Logan’s face, but it disappeared as Remus held out the trans pin on his jacket. He noticed now how many pins there really were. There was the trans one, he/him, a weed symbol (however he got away with that), a skull one, an atom one, a chemistry tube, a gay flag, and various other little ones. They offered quite a bit of insight onto his personality, which seemed more and more attractive as their interaction went on.

 Remus kept talking to him, which he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t have much of a personality, and what he did have, he didn’t really show. Most of his personality was just extreme emotions. He didn’t show those, either.

 They did get to talking, though. Remus somehow pried out Logan’s interest in science and his plans for the future. They talked about how they’d do anything in STEM if they could. They talked about how annoying humanities majors were, and how annoying they were to humanities majors.

 They finished the books, and Remus’s conversational skills got Logan to stay a tiny bit longer. Too much longer.

 Before they even knew, there was a click at the door. The closet was big, so it wasn’t like they were right next to the door.

 “What was that?”

 Logan headed cautiously to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

 “We’re locked in.”

 Remus whispered “shit” under his breath before running to the door and banging loudly. The sound was fast and loud. They were locked in, they wouldn’t make it to class, they’d get in trouble, he’d be awful all over again-

 He couldn’t breathe. He was a failure all over again. He needed to get to class, his nails dug into his skin, his razor could help now, but he was shaking now and everything was wrong and this was supposed to be a simple morning thing and he shouldn’t have stayed and he shouldn’t have liked Remus and he shouldn’t feel anything, not anger, not fear, not sadness, not love-

 “Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

 This is the first time you meet him and he’ll already know you’re fucked up.

 Logan dodged away from him, tripping over a chair and falling on the floor. He could barely control his movements, his arms and hands wouldn’t listen to him, and he was already seeing this, he was never going to get a boyfriend or make another friend and he was dumb for thinking that. He grasped his upper arms with his hands, digging his nails into them, hoping it would help enough to stay fucking still.

 “Logan, can you take my hands? If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know we don’t know each other, I just wanna help.”

 Logan tentatively reached out his hand, well aware of the indents on his arm. Remus’s hand was warm and strong, so he reached out his other hand as well. He rocked slightly, trying to steady his breathing.

 “If you’re worried about getting in trouble, they can’t exactly blame us for getting trapped in a closet. It’s only one day, I’m sure it won’t hurt to miss a class or two. You can make up work and you can talk to your teachers if you’re concerned about missing important stuff.”

 “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry for wasting your time with that.”

 “Don’t be. It’s okay.”

 Logan leaned against the wall now, holding his knees. Remus slid down beside him.

 Why do you feel comfortable with him?

 Even from their distance, Logan could feel his presence there.

 You just met him.

 “Whaddya wanna do?”

 “...I think I have travel checkers.”

 “...Sure.”

 Logan searched through his bag, pulling out a tiny box and opened it. The little magnetic pieces had to be pried off of the board and rearranged. They played probably over ten times before the game couldn’t sustain their attention any longer. Logan started trying to stack them, knowing it wouldn’t work, but hey, he was bored. Remus took the ones Logan wasn’t using to form the shape of male genitals.

 “Hey, could I borrow some of yours?”

 Logan wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. He pushed his pieces over to Remus and leaned back on the wall. He checked his watch. It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to be in class, and no one had come by yet. They probably weren’t going to until Ms. Kachinsky came back to get her lunch. Since her room was being renovated, she was teaching health either in other classrooms or outside if they got desperate.

 Remus looked rather proud of himself when he finished his creation. 

 “So we’re stuck in here for another few hours, with nothing to occupy us but encyclopedias, whatever we have in our bags, and each other.”

 “The things you could do to someone in here… With someone. That’s not better.”

 “Who cares what anything implies at this point?”

 Remus joined Logan against the wall, staring blankly with him. 

 “You got your phone?”

 “Didn’t think I’d need it. How about you?”

 “Broken. Like it usually is. At least I have a job. And a brother.”

 Remus paused for a moment before speaking again.

 “I suppose we’re kinda obligated to become friends. After spending so much time alone in a closet.”

 “We could play a game. You do that with friends, right?”

 “Never have I ever been stuck in a closet before.”

 Logan held up his fingers and put one down.

 “If we’re talking metaphorical closets, yeah.”

 He took a moment to realize what he’d just said. He’d half-outed himself to a practical stranger. He hadn’t come out to anyone yet.

 “Oh, I guess I told a lie then.”

 Remus put one of his own fingers down.

 “...I’ve literally never come out before. You’re the first person and I barely know you. Heh, maybe I should actually tell my brother so he starts pointing out cute guys instead of girls.”

 “I’m honored. Your turn.”

 “Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go for the boring one. Never have I ever been in a relationship. Not surprised, though.”

 “Can I be excused ‘cause it was a girl?”

 “Fair. You go.”

 “Mm… Never have I ever had a dog.”

 “Really? You seem like a dog person.”

 Logan put his second finger down, shifting slightly.

 “Nah. My dad’s allergic. I keep trying to sneak one in anyway, but my brother always catches me. Didn’t think it’d be that hard to get him on board. He loves dogs. Side effect of being the perfect child, I guess. You don’t let yourself do what you want. My parents are good parents, they just… trust him a bit more.”

 “It’s not so bad to be independent. No trans kid with transphobic parents ever chopped off their hair, or binded for the first time, or wore a wig or a dress with their parents’ permission.”

 “No one ever found their passion from someone who tried to choose their path.”

 “Very insightful.”

 “Thank you. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

 “Never have I ever worn a crop top.”

 “Hey, that’s cheating. You should, though, you’d look good.”

 “Would I?” Logan’s cheeks dusted slightly pink.

 “Would it be weird to offer you to try mine on?”

 “Probably, but I don’t think either of us are very normal. Plus, you develop a certain kind of relationship with someone you’re locked in the closet with.”

 Logan’s small blush only darkened as they turned away from each other and he heard fabric moving about. Remus tossed the shirt over his shoulder, and probably blushed as Logan took his own shirt off.

 Remus had buttoned his jacket to cover his chest. It didn’t completely cover it, but it didn’t matter to him all that much (Logan, however, turned red when he saw it). The shirt fit reasonably well, a little loose but it looked good nonetheless. Logan was hesitant, but Remus might have thought it looked very good according to the color of his cheeks.

 “Didn’t think you could get much hotter. I was very wrong.”

 Well that confirmed it.

 Logan didn’t usually get flustered so much that other people could tell, but this had triggered the darkest shade of pink to cross his cheeks. Remus giggled at that, which only made them darker.

 “Hah, made you blush.”

 “Was that your only intention?”

 “Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I meant it.”

 “We barely even know each other.”

 “Are you saying I’m not allowed to flirt?”

 “Do what you want, I guess. Sure. Flirt. All laws are broken, we’re locked in a closet.”

 “Whatever I want?”

 “Now it’s enough.”

 “Fine. Got any more ideas?”

 “Search for a morsel of food in my bag, maybe.”

 “I might have chips in my bag. If not, I may have to resort to cannibalism.”

 “Then you wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. And didn’t you say I was hot? Pretty sure a half-eaten body won’t be as nice to look at.”

 “You never know.”

 Remus found a small bag of chips in his bag, opening it and handing Logan some chips. They both munched quietly until it was done, then returned to their placement on the wall.

 “Oh, do you want your shirt back?”

 “Not really, but I should take it. Someday when we’re not trapped in a closet I’m gonna buy you a crop top.”

 They changed back into their original clothes, Remus nearly stealing a glance at Logan’s shirtless body.

 “How much time do you think we’ve got left?” Remus turned his head lazily towards the other boy.

 “Probably another hour or so.”

 “We never finished the game, did we?”

 “No. Your turn, I believe.”

 “Except now we both have to put a finger down ‘cause you wore the crop top.”

 “That’s not how it works!”

 “Hey, I put a finger down for metaphorical closets. Plus I let you wear my crop top, it’s only fair.”

 “Well… I guess I have two left now.”

 “Hah, three. I’m winning. Never have I ever,” Remus began, “eaten pie. It’s the one sweet thing I’ve never had. My mom tries to make it sometimes, but it always gets burnt. I’ve tried to convince them to let me eat it anyway.”

 “Hm. Me neither.”

 “Seriously? Hasn’t basically everyone eaten pie?”

“Too much sugar.”

 “At least it’s fruit, though. I mean, you accepted the chips, those aren’t exactly healthy.”

 “That’s an exception. We don’t have any other food.”

 “Well, fair. Your turn.”

 “Never have I ever… heh, never have I ever been happy. Shit, no, didn’t mean to say that.”

 It’s not that inaccurate, though.

 “Guess we’d both have to put a finger down. You’re smiling.”

 “Hey, doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

 “I know how smiling works. If it’s real, your eyes squint at least a little bit. Your eyes are squinting a lot. It’s cute.”

 Logan accepted this and put another finger down. He hated feeling because he knew what it did to people when he did. When he was happy, he wasn’t on guard. He had to be careful about what he was doing, else he could end up being insensitive.

 “Okay. If I can get one more, I win. Never have I ever been on a plane.”

 “God, I wish.”

 “Oh, come on. If you end up beating me, I’ll eat your homework.”

 “Never have I ever had to copy someone’s homework.”

 “Well I guess you managed to get both of us to one. My threat still stands. Never have I ever played piano.”

 “Nope.”

 “I’m gonna change that at somepoint. You’d be hot playing piano.”

 Logan leaned in closer.

 “Never have I ever been as pretty as you.”

 “We both lose.”

 “That- doesn’t even work.”

 “Sure it does.”

 “God, I barely know you and I’m flirting with you.”

 “Like we’ve both said, locked in a closet. Who cares what we do? Honestly I’d be down to fuck if we weren’t in school.”

 “We’re teenagers.”

 “So? Heh, we’ve already taken our clothes off in front of each other.”

 “We weren’t looking at each other.”

 They heard footsteps from outside. Remus got up immediately and started knocking on the door as loudly as he could. They thankfully got closer, and they were both relieved when the doorknob turned and the classroom’s light poured in and it wasn’t just a dim lamp lighting the room. Logan felt as if he’d lost something, despite the return to class supposedly being a good thing. He felt just a little bit emptier.

 “Ms. Kachinsky! I apologize, it seems as if we were accidentally locked in.”

 “Oh no, I’m sorry, boys. I mean, I’m the one who locked you in here, I’m guessing. Well, you’d better get to class. I’ll send you both with a note.”

 She wrote them both a note and they went on their way, no way of knowing what she’d just created.

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #ts logan #sanders sides #intrulogical fic #tw self harm #tw suicidal thoughts #tw food #tw sex mention #fanfiction #ts fic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #grays fics #whole

[photorose11]

An Unbreakable Bond Ch. 7

I am back and finally here with chapter seven. Hopefully this chapter will make up for how short chapter six is. lol  Hopefully not many typo’s in this, I spent forever going over it just to make sure. A few more characters enter this fic, starting here. :) Also for some clarification on the ages in this story: 

Karin & Yuzu Kurosaki = 15. 

Ichigo Kurosaki = 19.  

I know it is told in the story that Ichigo is a senior, let’s just say him and his friends all graduate at 19. I mean they seriously missed a lot of school in the manga, maybe they all got held back a grade? LOL Just go with me here. lol Also, did anyone else know Toshiro Hitsugaya’s age is 80 and he is supposed to appear 10? I always figured he was ‘younger’ then Rukia. So let’s say in this (since its been like three years) he’s more 83 looking like he’s 15. LOL

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bleach. (just my love for writing fics)

Chapter 7. Connections

Rukia's eyes fluttered open at the sound of birds chirping outside the window. She blinked a few times before looking over towards her right, where Ichigo was still asleep. She couldn't help giving a smile, seeing his face buried in the pillow. She went to sit up, as he moved to lay on his back, clearly still asleep. An idea popped into her head.

Leaning forward, face hovering over his. She watched as his eyes started to flicker open before she bent down, pressing her lips to his. She heard him make a sound in the back of throat, obviously surprised. He responded back slowly, hand reaching to entangle in her hair. She pulled back after a moment, opening her eyes and gazing down at him.

He was blushing slightly, before giving her a smirk and leaning up to lay back on his elbows. She sat back, giving him a coy smile back.

"Morning to you too, Midget."

Her eyebrow twitched at his words, before she stuck her leg out, pushing her foot into his side. He fell onto the floor, wrapped up in his bed sheets. She couldn't help but smirk as she looked over the bed to see him tangled in the bed sheets; glaring up at her.

"Don't you think you should be calling me something else now?" He squinted at her, trying to see where she was going with this.

"Such as?" She laid sideways on the bed, head poking out over the bed to look at him still on the floor; elbows propped up and her head in her hands.

"I don't know.. like 'dear' or 'hunny' or even 'bunny'" Her eyes lit up at the last one, as he cringed. He could not imagine calling her that. Plus he hated bunnies.

"I would rather jump off my roof in human form then call you that." He muttered, still cringing. She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration.

"Plus, no matter what I call you you're still a midget so I might as well-"

Before he could finish his face was being smothered by his pillow as she straddled his waist. He flailed his arms before reaching for her wrists, trying to get the pillow off. She laughed above him before pulling the pillow off, his face was red as he panted for air.

"Why you-" he sputtered before he realized she was on top of him. His face then became red for a different reason. All she could do was smile in accomplishment.

"Ichigo, you are a fool." She said sweetly to him before getting out of his lap and going to grab some clothes from the dresser drawer. He untangled himself out of the sheets with a huff before laying them back on the bed where they belonged. He watched her walk to the bedroom door and open it as he walked behind her, shutting it before she could walk out. She turned around, willing to throw another pillow in his face until he leaned down to kiss her. He put his hands on her waist, gently pushing her back into the door and slightly pulling away to look at her with a smile on his face.

"Still a fool." She whispered out before leaning up and kissing him back.

--

An hour later the pair were dressed and ready for the new day; cooking breakfast. Isshin sat at the kitchen table with them, sipping his coffee. Once done they sat down at the table in silence and ate before Rukia spoke up. "When will your sisters be home?" she asked, as she finished off her eggs with vigor. She could get used to his cooking.

"Should be another hour I think?" Ichigo said, looking at the clock. It was an hour before noon. Rukia nodded her head before sipping her coffee.

"Do you have any plans today Isshin?" She asked, turning her head to looking over at him. He looked up from his newspaper givng her a smile before replying.

"Just clinic work today my dear third daughter! It's usually pretty busy in the summer." He got up to put his empty coffee cup in the sink before walking over to Ichigo and ruffling his hair. Ichigo batted his hand away in annoyance. Rukia laughed.

"Alright kids, I'll be in the clinic. If it's not busy I'll be back in an hour to see my two lovely daughters reunite with their wonderful third!" He exclaimed loudly before running over to the poster of Masaki with tears streaming down his face talking about how happy he was to know his daughters will be reunited soon.

Ichigo ignored him while he finished his breakfast. Rukia watched on in amusement before looking over to Ichigo, who rolled his eyes in response muttering 'crazy old man' under his breath as Isshin left to head to the clinic, 

Rukia got up as Ichigo finished and cleared the plates off the table. She began washing them as he stood beside her grabbing a clean towel to dry them with.

"You know you don't have to do that, right? You're on vacation." He said before grabbing the clean plate from her hands and beginning to dry it before setting it in the rack.

"I actually enjoy washing dishes. I don't get to do stuff like this while living in the Kuchiki Estate."

She didn't get to do any chores living with her brother. Then again she was always busy with paperwork and the duties that come with being a Lieutenant. 

But she still enjoyed the simple things. Ichigo nodded in understanding while he continued to dry the washed dishes.

"I thought you'd be moved out of the Estate to be honest, since you're a Lieutenant now." He said, while he finished drying the last dish. Rukia turned the water off, mulling over his words. She went to dry her hands before leaning her back on the kitchen counter.

"I thought about it.. I was given the option once I was promoted. Lieutenants and Captains have their own corridors in their Division. But after the war with Aizen.. It wouldn't have felt right to leave the Estate. Nii-sama was very worried about me." She said softly, before looking at the ground. Ichigo couldn't help but be a little surprised hearing that her brother was very worried. He knew that Byakuya cared for his adopted sister. He was just never very good at showing it.  Noticing her declining mood, he grabbed her hand and led her to the living room sofa. They sat down next to one another as he waited for her to continue.

"He has been pushing for awhile about me taking some time off to relax. He knew how hard it was for me after returning to Soul Society. I really think he knew I missed you."

She glanced over at him then as he gave her an understanding look back. He would always understand. She gave a smile leaning back on the sofa as he did the same. She curled her legs up on the sofa, still holding onto his hand. "I've been thinking the last few months about moving into my own corridors now though. I wont be to far away from the Estate. Ukitake will be in the next corridor over and his illness has been acting up so I think it will be good to be close to him."

Ichigo sat back and though about her words. He was sad to hear about Ukitake not doing too well, the Captain had always been very kind to him. He was happy for Rukia, if she decided to move out of the Estate. He supported her no matter what decision she made on the matter. He couldn't help but to think about his friends in Soul Society.

"How's everyone been doing since the war?" he asked gently. He knew the war with Aizen was a sensitive subject for both of them. He glanced at her, as she looked down at their intertwined hands before leaning into his shoulder.

"It was hard for everyone at first. Renji was okay.. but was worried about everyone else. Rangiku was heartbroken about Gin's death, and she was worried about Captain Hitsugaya.. who still blames himself for what happened to Momo.." she trailed off, feeling a little breathless after saying what she had. She held onto his hand tighter before continuing.

"We all became a lot closer once we returned. We took turns seeing Momo in the hospital, Hitsugaya was there every night and was training every day for months afterwards. It was his way of coping with what had happened. Rangiku made sure to never be too far away. I decided to train with him weekly."

She couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes. She had never been very close to Hinamori but she cared for her just like she cared for every single one of her comrades and friends. It broke her heart to see Rangiku heart broken over the death of Gin, and Hitsugaya heart broken over what happened to his best friend. The times she did train with the 10th Division Captain, the look in his eyes made it very obvious how much he was hurting. Rukia looked up to see Ichigo giving her a concerned look.

"Is Momo still..." he really didn't want to ask the full question. He remembered what had happened to Hinamori very vividly. It was something he had had a few nightmares about. He may not be her friend but she was still his comrade and it hurt to remember. Rukia nodded her head before clearing her throat to explain.

"She is still alive. She's still in a coma though. They don't know if she will ever wake up. Unohana has tried everything she can think of to help her, but nothing has worked. Rukia leaned more into him, giving a shaky sigh before continuing.

"Hitsugaya still trains, not as much as before but still pushes himself when he does. He still visits with Momo almost every night." Rukia then remembered a conversation her and the 10th Division Captain had had a few days before Ichigo had gotten his powers back.

"He's actually been wanting to take a day and get clearance to come to The World of The Living to visit Karin. But he's afraid if he leaves and the worst happens to Momo.. he will not be able to live with himself."

Rukia could feel a migraine coming on, she knew it was from her holding back her tears but she could not let them fall. She had cried enough the last two years. She felt her breathing calm down as she took deep breaths; when she felt Ichigo stroke his thumb over the top of her hand; a silent comfort she was very grateful for.

"After dad told Karin and Yuzu everything, he said Karin asked him if Hitsugaya was still alive. Apparently, she got pretty emotional when he told her that he had gotten injured but he was going to be okay. Karin never gets emotional.. not since after mom died."

Rukia's eyes widened at that. She knew the Captain was friends with Karin but did not realize how much he meant to her. She watched Ichigo as he scrunched up his eyebrows, squinting at nothing in particular. Rukia could only imagine where his mind was going.

"You don't need to worry, Ichigo. Karin may be friends with a Shinigami but no harm is going to come to her. I wish he would visit though.. he needs some time away. I really think it would make him feel better if he saw a friend." Ichigo sighed at her words, while hanging his head. He knew she was right. As Karin's brother, it was just weird to think about.

"Ah, I know. It just kind of weirds me out. I mean, Karin is the same age as I was when I met you!" He said while rubbing his neck. Rukia leaned forward and smirked at him, waiting for him to realize what he had just said. A moment later he whipped his head around, looking at her with wide panicked eyes as his mouth fell open.

"You don't think.. I mean, she's fifteen!" He exclaimed loudly. He suddenly felt sick thinking about it. Rukia held back her laugh, not wanting to insult him but it was kiind of funny to see his reaction to the possibility of "feelings" being involved between his sister and Hitsugaya.

"Do you think you loved me the first year you knew me, Ichigo?" she asks with a smile. He looked at her thoughtfully, before he took his hand out of hers and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I'm positive I did, yeah."

"That first year would you say you protected me with your life?" She asked, leaning more into his chest. He laid his chin on the top of her head, knowing the answer to her question without hesitation.

"I'd say I protected you since the first day I met you, Rukia." she smiled warmly at his response.

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Plus they're just friends." He sighed again before looking up at the ceiling.

"I mean how old even if he? Is he around your age.. does he still look like he's twelve?"

Rukia couldn't help but laugh out loud at that before playfully slapping him upside the head.

"Hey, It was an honest question."

He rubbed his head before grinning at her, he knew she thought it was hilarious.

"He's gotten a little taller."

"Unlike you?"

"OW! Rukia, that one actually hurt!"

--

Half an hour later, Rukia is anxiously waiting for Yuzu and Karin to arrive home. She couldn't hide her excitement.

"You're really excited, aren't you?" Ichigo sat on the sofa watching his girlfriend pace the living room floor. Without hearing a response, he got up and stopped her pacing; placing his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him right as they heard the front door unlocking. Her eyes widened and an excited grin broke out on her face.

"Go hide in the kitchen while I greet them." He whispered before giving her a short kiss. She skipped to the kitchen as Ichigo went to greet his sisters at the door.

"Ichigo, we're home! OH! You're right there." Yuzu laughed, seeing her brother right by the door. Which was very odd for him to do. Karin followed in behind her sister, giving her brother a strange look before her eyes went wide. Ichigo gave a puzzled look back. Karin was looking him like she knew..

'shit, she can sense my spiritual pressure.'

He had completely forgotten that Kain's abilities had grown stronger over the last two years. It seemed after Ichigo's powers were gone, hers grew. Unlike Ichigo, she was very good at sensing  reiatsu. It was a good thing Rukia was in a Gigai and had better control over her reiatsu then he did.

"I'm going to put our bags upstairs, Karin. Then let's have a snack." Karin nodded watching her sister go up the stairs before turning back to her brother, an eyebrow raised in question; silently demanding answers. He wondered if he should just play stupid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why are you leaking reiatsu everywhere?! I thought your powers were gone." She whispered, even though she knew no one could hear her.

"Let's just say, it's been an eventful weekend." She squinted her eyes at him, urging him to give more information. Thankfully, Yuzu came down the stairs then.

"How was your weekend, Ichigo?" Yuzu asked while heading to the kitchen, Ichigo and Karin trailing behind her.

"I was actually pretty good." He said, with a growing grin on his face. They were very close to finding out why.

"Oh, why's tha-" Yuzu stopped in her tracks. Eyes wide, looking at the raven haired Shinigami standing in their kitchen.

"Hi Yuzu, Karin."

"RUKIA!!" The girls rushed over to her enveloping her in a hug. Ichigo could tell Yuzu was crying, even Karin looked a little teary eyed. Ichigo watched the happy reunion before he glanced over seeing his father behind him, watching as well.

"So son!" Isshin said, slapping his son on the back. Ichigo lurched forward, but caught himself and gave his father an irriated look.

"When should I expect grandchildren?!"

The teens face turned red, scowling at his fathers question before wrestling him to the ground.

"YOU CAN'T JUST ASK SOMETHING LIKE THAT YOU OLD MAN, AND IM ONLY NINETEEN." He screamed at his father while putting him in a head lock. The girls broke a part from their embrace, watching the dramatic scene unfold in front of them.

"BUT IMAGINE HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY WILL BE, SON." Isshin had happy tears streaming down his face as he broke out of Ichigo's head lock. Rukia realizing what the conversation was about, blushes before walking to the dramatic men before grabbing Ichigo by the ear and dragging him away from his overly enthusiastic father.

"OW, OW, DAMMIT RUKIA, you're gonna tear my ear off!" Rolling her eyes, she let go before walking back over to the girls who looked highly amused at the scene that just unfolded in front of them. Shortly after, they sat down at the table; as Ichigo and Isshin brushed themselves off before sitting down as well.

"Rukia, how are you here?! Did Ichigo get his powers back?!" Yuzu asked excitedly as she looked between Rukia and Ichigo.

"Yes, he did. Kisuke developed a sword that I was able to draw my spiritual energy into and I was able to give him half of mine." she stated softly, a growing grin on her face. Yuzu teared up again before getting up and giving Rukia another hug.

"Thank you so much! He's been so sad since you've been gone!" She stated tearfully into Rukia's shoulder. Rukia softly patted her on the back before Yuzu pulled away and sat back down.

"I understand. I was very sad too." she confessed, her gaze turning to Ichigo. In moments like this it hit her all at once that she was the opposite of sad now. She went from being incredily depressed to incredibly happy in three weeks time.

"How long are you staying?" Karin questioned.

"I have twelve more days here before I have to head back. I was able to request two weeks off once Ichigo got his powers back." The girls smiled happily at her before Rukia turned her gaze to the center of the table, her face turning somber.

"I want to apologize to you both. I should have explained what had happened before I left. It was unfair to you both for me to leave without saying why." The twins eyes widened at her words, realizing she was blaming herself. To everyone's surprise, Karin spoke before Yuzu could.

"You don't need to apologize, Rukia. Dad told us everything. I will admit.. I was angry at first because I didn't understand. But I get it now." Rukia met Karin's eyes, seeing complete understanding in them.

"Karin is right. It's nothing you need to be sorry about. We know it was very hard for you to go back after Ichigo lost his powers." Yuzu said softly, before reaching a hand out over the table to grab Rukia's.

"You're so strong, Rukia.You and Ichigo both." Yuzu said smiling, feeling the tears in the back of her eyes. Rukia felt her own tears in the corners of her eyes. 

She knew they were her family. She couldn't imagine them not in her life. Her connection to Ichigo was life altering, in a way she had never experienced before with anyone else. She felt so lucky to be able to have a connection with his family as well.

For the next hour the Kurosaki family sat around the kitchen table catching up. Yuzu made tea and brought out some chips and cookies for everyone to much on as they all chatted.

"So how have things been for you, Rukia?" Yuzu asked sweetly before grabbing another cookie.

"Things have been good. I was promoted to Lieutenant." She said proudly. They all grinned and congratulated her.

"Thank you. Aside from that it's been.. busy. But things have calmed down since the war. Things have gotten a lot better over the weekend as well, since Ichigo got his powers back." she turned her gaze to Ichigo who was trying not to blush, realizing what exactly she was tallking about. She met his eyes and couldn't help but smirk.

"What was THAT?" Karin questioned rather bluntly, eyebrows raised at her brother and the Shinigami.

"Hmm? What was what?" Ichigo asked, breaking his eye contact with Rukia who in turn stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"Ohhhh! I saw it too, Karin!" Yuzu said excitedly, leaning forward on the kitchen table while looking between the two. Rukia felt her face heat up at their realization.

"Something happened between you two! I can feel it! Do you guys even realize what your reiatsu does when you're near each other now?" Karin questioned them, while leaning on the kitchen table as well. She was obviously smirking, waiting for them to fess up what she already knew.

"Wha-? What are you talking about?" Rukia was rather confused. She knew she was good at hiding her reiatsu, Ichigo not so much. Was her reiatsu coming out when she was near Ichigo and didn't even realize it?

"You haven't noticed? It's like.." Karin then made a weird swirling motion with her hands.

"It's like.. swirling together? Or more like recognizing each other and meeting? It's kind of cool, I've never seen anything like it before." Karin said with a grin on her face, patiently waiting for them to confess. Yuzu squinted at the pair, as if she was trying to see their spiritual pressure too. Rukia's eyes met Ichigo's again, waiting for him to say something. Ichigo realized they were all looking at him, even his father was with his elbow propped up on the table and holding his head in his hand.

"Please, do tell son." Isshin said with a huge grin on his face, which only made Ichigo turn more red. He scowled before throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Fine! You guys figured it out. I shouldn't really be surprised. Me and Rukia.. are together now."

Their were gasps around the table, even from his father. Ichigo glared at him, laying his hand on the table.

"Why are you sounding so surprised? You found out the night she came back!" He stated with clear agitation in his voice. The girls laughed before speaking up with excitement.

"I'm so happy for you both!" Yuzu squealed excitedly, practically bouncing out of her chair.

"Me too. It's about time." Karin said while leaning back in her chair, a smirk still present on her face. The new couple blushed, looking down at the table.

"Thank you both. And I agree, it was about time." Rukia said, laughing in her voice. The girls laughed at her remark before laughing even harder at seeing how red their brothers face was.

Once they were calmed down, Rukia glanced over at Karin. She knew she wanted to talk to her about something and felt now was the time.

"Karin. Would it be okay if you talked with me upstairs for a minute?" Karin looked over at Rukia, confusion in her eyes.

"Sure." She got up, and Rukia followed. She passed Ichigo, giving him a kiss on the cheek before following Karin up the stairs. She heard Yuzu squeal and Ichigo mutter 'oh, shut it' before making it all the way up the stairs. Karin went to her room, Rukia right behind her. Once inside she shut the door behind her. Karin went to sit on her bed and Rukia went to sit on Yuzu's. Karin had her back to the wall, her lehs cross crossed as she looked back at Rukia.

"So what did you want to talk about?" She was rather curious about what her shinigami friend had to say. Rukia gave a sigh before looking up, meeting the young girls eyes.

"I want to talk to you about Tōshirō Hitsugaya." Karin's eyes widened at her reply. She hadn't heard his name in a long time.

"I know he's your friend. I also know your father talked to both you and Yuzu and told you everything, and he told you Hitsugaya did survive the war." Rukia looked down at her hands resting in her lap. Karin felt her heart race up and Rukia talked about her friend.

"He has told me himself that he's been wanting to visit you the last two years, but there is a reason why he hasn't been able to." Rukia looked up at Karin. Her eyes were wide and Rukia could tell she was slightly shaking. Rukia slowly stood up from Yuzu's bed and went to sit next to Karin. She sat cross legged next to Karin before continuing.

"During the war.. his best friend Hinamori Momo was severely injured, because of Aizen." Rukia heard the young girls breath hitch. Rukia instinctively took a hold of one of her hands in hers and held it between them. She didn't think Karin even noticed.

"He.. he told me about her. How he grew up with her. She's like a sister to him." Karin blinked back tears, feeling the pain in her chest knowing her white haired friend has been hurting all these years.

"What exactly happened to her?" She asked hesitantly. She wanted to know but she was scared. She knew the war with Aizen was awful, with many people injured and dead. She was furious Aizen had done this to her loved ones.

"I feel it is not my place to tell you, it's Tōshirō's. The only reason he has not visited is because Momo is in a coma, and has been since the war. He's afraid to leave Soul Society, even for a day. Because he is scared the worst will happen to her. He will never be able to live with himself if the worst does happen and he isn't there by her side."

Rukia took a deep breath, trying not to become emotional. This was a very hard conversation to have with Ichigo's little sister. She knew it was effecting Karin, because her hold on Rukia's hand tightened as she bowed her head and held back her tears.

"I know.. this is hard to hear. But I know you needed to know. Tōshirō is also my friend and means a great deal to me. I want to help him, just as I'm sure you want to as well." Rukia scooted closer to Karin as the younger girl trembled.

"He didn't deserve this, neither did Momo. He is a good person, Rukia." Karin looked up then, a few tears leaking out as she looked at her friend that she saw as an older sister.

"I know, you are right. I don't understand why bad things happen to good people." Rukia said softly, through her own tears that she was holding back. Rukia thought about what she could do to help her friends. Then an idea came to her. She jumped out of the bed, motioning for Karin to follow her. She entered Ichigo's room and went to his desk where she had laid out a few of her things. Seeing the Soul Candy, she showed it to Karin and explained what it was for.

"I'm going to use this and enter my Soul Reaper form." She went to lay on Ichigo's bed, so her Gigai would not fall on the floor.

"Once I do, I'm going to summon a Hell Butterfly. They can be used to send messages to Soul Reapers in Soul Society. I can send a message to Tōshirō. What would you like me to tell him?"

Karin gaped at her, realizing what Rukia was telling her. She sat next to Rukia on the bed, her mind blank for a moment. As she thought, Rukia popped the Soul Candy in her mouth beside her in Soul Reaper form, sitting beside her on the bed.

"Can you tell him.. I understand why he hasn't visited. Tell him my father told me everything about Ichigo and about the war with Aizen. And that I don't know what exactly happened to Momo, but I'm sorry. And he's not alone." Rukia smiled at her, before nodding her head. She went to summon the Hell Butterfly before Karin stopped her, laying a hand on her wrist.

"And also that I miss him too." She whispered. Rukia looked into the young girls eyes, understanding.

"Ofcourse, Karin."

Karin watched as she summoned the Hell Butterfly. It landed on Rukia's finger, and she watched as Rukia closed her eyes and silently communicated the message. Once she was done, it flew off her finger and went out the bedroom window, heading towards it's destination.

"Thank you, Rukia."

"Anytime, Karin."

--

In the tenth Division, Captain Hitsugaya sat at his desk trying to focus on paperwork. It had been hours and as hard as he tried, he couldn't focus. His Lieutenant was nowhere to be seen and he sighed in aggravation at the thought of that. He considered going out to train for a few hours but knew he shouldn't. He had recently gotten word Momo's health was starting to rapidly decline. He felt it was best not to stray too far from her, just in case. He looked up and sighed again, before he noticed a Hell Butterfly heading towards him. Confused, he lifted up his finger as it lands at it's destination.

His eyes widen in shock at hearing Rukia's voice but even more so at what she has to say. Once the message has ended, the Hell Butterfly vanishes and he leans back into his chair before looking out the window; a small smile on his face. Karin may not be someone he has known for decades, yet it still felt like they had known each other that long; if not longer. He had felt a connection to her in a way that he really had only ever had with a few people. He was happy to hear from Karin Kurosaki. It was the best thing to happen to him in a long time. But his eyes grew sad, thinking back to Momo. Knowing what was surely to happen soon.

"I am sure you will see me soon, Karin Kurosaki."

#an unbreakable bond #chapter seven #ichiruki #ichiruki fanfiction #ichiruki fanfc #ichigo x rukia #rukia #ichigo #rukia kuchiki #ichigo kurosaki #shinigami #bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #ichiruki love #kurosaki family #yuzu kurosaki #kurosaki karin #hitsugaya toshiro #toshiro hitsugaya #toshiro #tōshirō hitsugaya #captain hitsugaya #connections

[hanawrites404]

No I In Threesome

Game : The Arcana

Pairing : Nadia Satrinava/Lucinda Wei/Lucio Morgasson

Warnings : threesome sex

Characters : Lucio Morgasson, Lucinda Wei (OC of @dreamygi ) and Nadia Satrinava

Timeline : Pre-plague

This story is based on this song :

And this is story was requested by the sweetie Jiah (@dreamygi )

Third Person POV

It was a normal inky black night in Vesuvia. The moon was shining out in the sky as usual and the stars twinkled with it.

People were bustling around the city minding their own business in the crowds. It was too packed up outside but that didn't mean that the condition inside the palace was any different.

In the Count's palace, a young lady was scrambling on her legs as she rushed for the Count's aid because she was summoned by him. Her flowy black hair followed her pace and her dark brown eyes were frantically moving here and there as she changed directions.

Once she reached his room, she knocked thrice at the door. From the other side, a muffled and cheery 'Come in!' came. And so, the pretty lady opened the door and entered.

"Lucinda! How nice to see my favorite maid come to me for my assistance" the count flaunted. Lucinda smiled at the count and approached him.

"You flatter me Count Lucio" she replied.

"So tell me sir, what can I do for you?"

"You see, the dinner you made today was really great Lucinda, but unfortunately I could not get enough of your delicious cooking. So can you please make some of your scrumptious cookies to satisfy my hunger?" He requested.

"Your Highness, you should not. First, it will ruin your appetite. And second, the dinner was one big load of food. If you eat more, it would not be healthy for you" she lectured him.

"Oh come on, can't I get something small and sweet to melt my mouth?" He pouted angrily.

"Your Grace, I would love to feed you with as many cookies I can make but, now is not the time. I am really sorry" she told him.

"Ugh fine....You are dismissed then" he pouted again, crossing his arms and sitting on his bed, turning his head away from her like an angry child.

Lucinda felt a bit pity on the childish Count. Nobody knew this but, Lucinda has a small crush on the Count.

........

..............

.......................

........OK that was a lie. She had a FAT crush on Lucio.

His conceited smile, his golden hair, his porcelain skin and his shining silver eyes were enough to make her lose her mind. She fell for him when she saw him for the first time. The fact that she was the Count's favourite maid made her heart swell with joy.

But for now, Lucinda had to refuse the count for feeding him cookies because she was worried about his health and didn't want him to become ill. She cared about him a lot and was denying him for his own good, even if it pained her heart to see Lucio being dissapointed.

But it didn't last long as Lucio's face brightened up again with an awfully suspicious smirk on his lips.

Lucinda raised her eyebrow. "Is something wrong Your Highness?"

"You see, if not cookies then how about a massage? My shoulders have become a bit stiff from sitting through countless meetings" he rubbed his shoulder to soothe it.

"Oh I can do that" Lucinda cracked her knuckles to get them nicely moving.

Lucio stripped from his coat and removed his upper clothing till his chest was exposed to the air. He relaxed himself on the bed in an extremely sexy pose which flexed his abdominal muscles.

"So where should I sta- Ahh!!!"

Lucinda squeaked from surprise and backed away a bit, blushing madly on seeing the half-naked Count.

"Y-Your Highness! Why are you naked!!?" Lucinda covered her eyes.

"I need to take off my clothes for a better effect, don't I? That's why I removed them. I want to feel your soft and proficient hands on me" he rubbed his chest in a seducing manner.

Lucinda blushed harder.

"Are you sure about this, Your Highness??" She asked one more time.

"I'm very sure about this, Darling" he winked at her, the nickname making her more flustered.

Lucinda gulped, but then approached the Count slowly. Her hands were shaking the whole time. She sits beside Lucio, hesitant to touch his body. This was the first time she was seeing him naked.

"T-Turn around please" she shyly requested him.

Lucio nodded and roller over, his back on top.

They were bestrowed with battle scars. Some of them were light and had almost healed up while some of them looked very deep and odious.

Lucinda winced at seeing each of the scars, her pity on him growing more.

"Don't worry. It was all in the past. Each scar had its own story though. Maybe I will tell you about them in the future" Lucio winked at her.

Lucinda blushed and nodded. She then took hold of his shoulders and pressed them, earning a quiet moan from him.

She continued putting pressure on them, easing the knots up and careful not to scrap his skin with her nails. She then moves onto his back where she accidentally touched one of the scars which had got swollen with time, making Lucio hiss from pain.

"Sorry" she apologized.

"I-It's alright. I'm fine" he breathed.

"I-I need to put oil on your wounds. That way it will not hurt". Lucinda gets a small bottle of rose-scented oil from her pocket and pours it on her hands. After her hands were smeared with oil, she massaged his whole back gently.

Lucio moaned louder from relief. Lucinda blushed more but she concentrated on her hands to skillfully massage his back. She felt every scar of his on her palm, sending shivers down her spine.

Lucinda could literally see the battlefield in front of her when she touched his wounds. The colliding of metal swords and shields and multiple corpses lying on the mud, bloodshed and ear-piercing screams everywhere. She could imagine everything.

She felt sorry for the Count. He has fought multiple battles and each wound must have hurt him to the maximum. She was really feeling guilty that how she was not by his side when he was in deep pain. She loved him so much that if he gets hurt, Lucinda too would would be injured.

She really really loved him to the most.......

Lucinda was so drowned in her trance that she didn't notice herself getting pinned down on the bed and her dress being removed from her body. However she was broken from her daydreaming when she felt someone sucking on her neck.

Yes......you guessed it right. It was Lucio who was kissing her.

"L-Lucio?! What are you doing?!!" Lucinda was beyond astonished to witness herself fully naked under the Count who had her trapped between his body and his elegant bed.

"You have been teasing me too much. It's time for your punishment" he then bit on her neck, making her yelp loudly and hold onto his shoulder and his hair.

Lucio groaned against her neck and sucked onto where he had bitten her. Lucinda's face was flushed red and she was desperately pulling on the sheets of the bed and his blonde hair, moaning from pleasure.

Lucio pulled away, looking at his masterpiece, smirking at how beautiful it was looking on her soft skin

. A dark red mark was smothered on her neck, ruining the perfection of her skin yet the love bite looked ideal on her.

"L-Lucio....... what was all this??" She asked him, dumbfounded from the sudden affection by the Count on a maid like her.

"Lucinda.....this may seem a bit sudden as it has been only week since you came here but, I have fallen for you. You are so caring towards me.....towards all of us, for that matter. And you are so prepossessing to eyes......I cannot even describe how pretty you are"

Lucio caressed her raven black hair, kissing it softly. Lucinda blushed more and pulled him into an immediate kiss.

That was all she wanted to hear from the Count.........

Lucio was taken aback for a bit, but it did not take him long to melt into the kiss and pull her closer by her head.

Lucinda rolled over so that she is on top and sat on his lap, not breaking the kiss. Lucio held her closer, pressing their bodies together. He had his hands on her bottom, squeezing them.

Lucio then broke the kiss and started pecking her bosom, occasionally biting on it lightly. Lucinda buried her fingers in his hair again as she led out lewd noises. She really wanted to remove his pants and stop the small play already.

She wanted him.....right......now........

"I see that you two are having fun without me"

Lucinda and Lucio both gasped from surprise looked sharply at where the voice came from.

And there was Nadia. She was standing there, her face impassive and her arms crossed as she stared at both of them, especially at the naked ravenette.

But how did Nadia get into the room?

Oh......They had forgotten to lock the door....

"Oh hello Noddy! Fancy seeing you here. But unfortunately, you came at a wrong time. Me and Lucinda were doing some..........private business. So do you mind coming back later??" Lucio gave a guiltless smile.

Nadia shook her head with disapproval and rubbed her eyebrows. She was very very disappointed with the immature Count.

"Lucio, I thought we had a deal that we both would share her" Nadia replied.

"Wait, deal??" Lucinda let go of Lucio and covered herself with a blanket. She was really confused what the hell they both were talking about.

"Yes you heard it right. You see, we both have become quite...... attracted to you, and we both want you. But we didn't want to fight with each other so we both came to an agreement that we shall share you" Nadia explained.

"Oh.....is that so, Milady?" Lucinda blushed pink. Was she hearing this right? That both the Count and the Countess were attracted to her??

"Yes of course. You are so interesting after all. You made us get attracted to you in less than a week. Now that is special, isn't it?" Nadia's cheeks flushed pink.

"Unfortunately, it seems like Lucio has already made his move. But I don't really care about that. So, would you mind if I join, Lucinda?" She asked her, seduction and lust eminent in her tone.

"O-Of course Milady. I don't mind at all", Lucinda had a bright blush on her face too.

Not going to lie, but Lucinda had a huge crush on Nadia too.

The day when she first saw her truly smiling and laughing, her heart had skipped a beat, and that's when she knew that she had indeed fallen for her. Her caring and sagacious personality was what she was attracted to the most.

Lucinda felt her face being cupped by Nadia as she pressed her lips with hers. Lucinda's cheeks got heated up but she obligingly kissed the Countess, pulling her closer.

She noticed how nice the Countess was smelling. She had the scents of jasmine and many other perfumes she could not recognise. But the fact was tru that she was smelling very very divine.

Though she really wanted to concentrate on the soft lips of the Countess, she could not ignore Lucio who was taking off his pants and underwear only to reveal his erect and throbbing meat.

Lucinda gulped inwardly seeing how big he was. Was it even going to fit in her? It will not break her, will it?

"Don't worry about him Dear. Have your beautiful eyes on me" Nadia turned her head towards her and continued to kiss her passionately.

Lucinda kissed back with the same passion but she gasped when she felt the rod griding against her entrance, teasing her and making her wet.

Lucio had taken hold of her soft hips, massaging them and playing with her skin while running his cock on her rose bud, moaning from the electrifying feel.

Lucinda's hand was cupping Nadia's cheek while the other hand had taken hold of Lucio's cock, lining it up to her entrance.

She was tired of all the teasing. She was craving for the real fun now.

Lucio got the signal of hers and smirked. He then wasted no time in inserting his cock inside her hole, groaning from pleasure when he felt his whole meat fit perfectly into her.

Lucinda gasped again and led out another loud moan when she felt his tip poking her spot. Nadia broke the kiss and started pecking her neck, groping her breasts while doing so.

Lucio started moving at a moderate speed, making sure to hit her spot with every thrust.

Lucinda led out many melodious and dirty noises from her throat. The skin of her neck vibrating with the reasonances of her moans.

Nadia bit on her neck and started leaving marks all over. Lucio groaned again and spanked her bottom hard, speeding himself up and leaning onto Lucinda's back, digging his nails on her hips.

Now that was going to leave a nasty mark....

"Oh gods!!....L-Lucio!! Nadia!!" Lucinda screamed both of their names, panting from breathlessness. She was getting so much pleasure from both the sides that she was on the verge of losing herself to orgasm already.

"Yes...scream my name....just like that" Lucio whispered in her hear and bit it, tugging on it lightly with his teeth.

Nadia on the other hand had littered her skin with many purple love bites and moved onto sucking her breast buttons next, occasionally licking and grinding them between her teeth which made Lucinda get closer to orgasm.

.......Not that Lucio wasn't trying his best to make her cum........

And speaking of Lucio, he was at his fastest now. He was hitting her spot multiple times, making Lucinda tremble and scream his name shamelessly.

Lucinda turned her head to press her lips against the blonde Count's and devour his lips hungrily as she whimpered from the pleasure spreading through her whole body.

Nadia had left many love bites similar to the previous ones on her chest and her hand was rubbing Lucinda's rose bud harshly, earning a high-pitched moan from her.

The room was echoing with the moans and groans of the three. Wet and vigorous slapping noises and intense sucking sounds were highly noticable. Both Lucio and Nadia weren't having any mercy on her and Lucinda was liking all of this.

Correction......Lucinda was loving all of this...........

Part 2 :

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana mc #fan apprentice #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #count lucio #lucio morgasson #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #nadia x oc #lucio x oc #what I wrote

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p5

a/n: deconstructed angst with a slice of life. idk, i cried too many times lately n now we here. enjoy my pretties.

You fell into a comfortable routine of sorts. No set pattern or time sheets to fill out, no schedule. Just adventure after scheme, mind-numbing body flaring fuck after pleasurable expeirence, after explosions and wine and dine. 

He’d even begun to train you to pilot the TARDIS. He made it fun, and used sex and punishment like a drivers education teacher uses gold stars and red pen. Land it perfectly or even in the right vicinity, he’d toss you up over the console and toss your legs behind his shoulder and eat you out like you were the last snack on the planet. Leaving you with beard burns and gushing…

Manage to wreck the TARDIS into something or massively screw up? He’d pull you by your ear until you were lower to the ground and take the notebook you’d eagerly scribbled notes into, tear your panties down and use it as a flogger, “Now maybe it’ll get through your skull now?” 

You didn’t know which rednesses were which anymore. 

Once you even set up in a kingdom after killing the King and Queen and using telepathic manipulation. It was an annual tithings feast akin to the Purge. The survivors of it would give the king and queen the losers goods. You did admit it was good having everyone fawn over you and treat you like royalty. The Master laughed and nearly died laughing the first time you truly didn’t fuss over the genuflecting, sputtering masses. After that was done, he took only the prettiest and most useful object and drug out the corpses of the former rulers and mockingly made them on their thrones.

He did take the most grand tiara and place it on your head one night and said, “Queen of the Whores...look at how well you know how to kneel!” Before cumming on it, your face, and the wall behind you.

You insisted on lots of rest days in the TARDIS and even out. He enjoyed having a solarium open to the most grand suns for naps during this time, all curled up, you on his chest and you knew this might be the legitimate only time the alien ever had some semblance of a sleeping schedule. 

He’d taken to playing slightly with your hair and humming a bit to you. It was simple and always drained out to a slight snore. He was opening up and relaxing more around you. Even informing you of his life. All the good with all the bad. It was slow to start, but you knew it was a lot.

He was right, all those months ago, this was the Real Way to See the Universe. Having it brought to you and not at random. Each day an a la carte and having loads of time to unwind. The days of randomness and ill-adept piloting, half lies mixed with earnest truths and long-winded explanations were a fever dream of lives past. You understood him better. At his level.

Things became clear and stuck.

You wondered off hand constantly if this was what regeneration felt like one day. 

“I can assure you. It’s much more painful.” He said, responding to your wonderment, tracing a small circle around the base of your neck one day at a beach on Momia 18. “You at least get to keep this smashing body, I have the lottery. Will I end up a dashing man with hands that can do this- “ He went lower and massaged the outside of your bikini bottoms, “And these lips you can never tear your filthy little mind away from…” He stopped and pulled you back, “Or something boring and less exciting.” 

“Damn, you have a point there.” 

If not for the people who he demanded you get called by your preferred name and or, regal terms, you half-thought sometimes you’d forget your name. What was it again? Y/N? 

You were always “Pet” or “my pet”. Unless he was being cool with you, then it was a terse “love”, which always made your heart plummet into your stomach. 

You’d only fought once so far, and it was over something so stupid, you happened to land on Earth and it was a festival and he wanted to scheme and lure in her, but you wanted a nice day perusing the booths and eating, maybe getting a haybale ride in. You ended up cutting your nose off to spite your face and slamming the door to your room and barricading it with a chair, screaming that he had best not come in there. You froze him out for three days and you two took two fucking weeks to make it up. 

It was, at the end, you paid in pain and delayed pleasure. He had you you choked out and chained on the floor of the TARDIS, slowly torturing you with fucking your brain up with images of him pleasuring you. All while using an electric zinger. The Master had you begging and pleading while informing you that Pets don’t get the chance to freeze out their Masters. That they were to be warm and receptive. Always obedient. Once you got the point, he brought you to the most extreme orgasm you ever had, then spent the next day caring for you and yet making sure you wore your new marks with pride.

You could have, in retrospect gone without him, but hindsight is perfect vision. 

You knew you were changing, you were constantly reminded, not just by your creeping suspicions, but by the few, brief times you checked in with your old reality on Earth. You said your excuses, blamed mental illness and lied through your teeth to poor Graham who wanted to send you a box of scones he made. 

He’d been a surrogate father to you in a few many ways.

Yet you never felt so far and so disentangled. 

Not that all change was bad. You were becoming more confident and stood straight up. You were always learning, whether at the hands of your Master, or by the innumerable amount of books he had falling over the place, even by your own tinkering. Your reveries became smaller and fewer in between. And you didn’t let fear get in the way of you doing anything, even falling great heights. 

You were a ghost within a ghost wrapped in a human shell.

Chaos over Chaos. 

The final piece of this fell in when you finally encountered her, the Doctor and all your old friends. Yaz, Ryan and Graham. 

It was an accident.

You’d been laying the foundations for rebellion to happen, the Master was quite put out with the establishment and told you, “Let them eat cake!” as you pointed out, that it’d be longer to wait, but more fun to sew the seeds of discourse and let them march the leaders' heads out on spikes, then swoop in later as glorious alternatives. 

He kissed you so hard you nearly stumbled over and quickly blurted out, “I love you for this! What a clever idea.” 

Of course, the Fam was here and trying to create peace and make sure “order” happened and not your beautiful chaos. 

It was a stand down and you’d literally just walked into those two circling around each other like snarling dogs for a meaty bone. 

“I knew you’d probably be behind something as sinister as this!” She barked. 

Yaz and Ryan were calming a crying leader’s wife and Graham was recharging his Laser shoes. You wondered offhandedly how a supposed pacifist would let him have a weapon purely for killing.

You allowed yourself one, “Fuck.” a little too loud to escape quietly and go deal with this and smooth over the best saving grace for your long plan you both poured all three of the available hearts into. 

“Y/N?” The Doctor pivoted and spun around to the shadow you’d been off stage in. 

The Fam all dropped whatever they were doing immediately and began to gawk at you.

“We thought you died? I went to your home to pick you up and it was deserted-dusty!” 

“We tried calling!”

“I mailed you a postcard!”

“We checked every local hospital and scanned the records for your death!”

So many voices and shouts shook you into the first of a massive reverie in a while. A dull ringing set in and snapped. People started bickering between. For a second you couldn’t hear a single peep from anyone and lost your mental footing.

“How could you betray me? After all we’ve been through?” The Doctor demanded, rolling into your face and nose curling in utter grievances. Fire and sadness filling her eyes. You felt guilt, but saw the pure disgust radiating out of her.

“Enough.” You pushed back and screwed yourself up again. 

“You left me, and them.” You pointed your commanding hand at the Fam. “All alone and on our own to get home! What was I supposed to do? Stand by and wait like I’m being stood up? We waited days. We always wait for you. Always.” Hurt and violence pouring out of every syllable. “What are we, hmm? Us companions? Toys for you to play with for character development then toss away when you learn your lesson?”

“He’s got your hypnotised! He’s evil! You know he’s a baddie!”

You let out a manic laugh, “So?”

“Look what he’s turned you into!” She pointed, “You didn’t look like this before.”

You clapped your hands and chortled, “I’m happy!”

You saw out of the corner of your eye everyone, even the Master, stepped back and observed the two of you’s scene. Yaz? Horrified and like she’d seen a murder. Ryan, confused and hurt. Graham, hurt, but just looking glad he wasn’t in the middle of it.

But your Master, you thought you heard him coo under his breath and felt a warm tingling in your brain.

Yaz, ever the Officer and The Gentlewoman approached you and asked honestly if you were okay. 

At the moment you didn’t know, you crossed a hand over your gut and inhaled sharply, slouching and swallowing a lump in your throat. Graham was beginning to look beyond concerned and in a fatherly sort of way. “You seemed shaken up the last time we talked, Y/N. Did he hurt you?” He approached you and put out to comfort you…

The Doctor was turning from shock to anger and betrayal overruled. “What’s that? It’s like he’s taken over you!” The Doctor made a broad sweeping gesture.  

The Master went to speak and you waved him off, your mind crashing around you. You could feel him getting worried and angry. He looked like he was to kill the Doctor. But not in the little smirking way you’d grown to adore. His teeth were out, but not in a wide, dopey grin. Purely feral and ready to open something like a can opener…

He stopped, looking confused but a little proud. He had a front row seat to your mind and the cacophony of thoughts inside it, yet was shocked. 

“Oh- it’s not like you don’t take us and mould us to your liking? Worlds speak in hushed reverent tones of you sacrificing your Children of Time. Then you go move on to another set. No big deal! You can always pick a bunch of suckers. Your TARDIS might as well be a white panelled van.” You tried matching her equally for the amounts of emotions or a monologue she would do. “You’re just as bad if not worse! You play the hero and the martyr! You lie to us!”

To rub salt in the wound you quietly added, “He’s many things, but I know he’ll never lie to me.” 

You didn’t know how much of a hard-ass you could successfully pull off. You considered her a friend and up until this moment still had a lot of loyalty and love for her. You still loved despite always being a misshapen puzzle piece the human part of the Fam.The ringing settled in your jaw and you felt her pain. 

Your facade began shaking.

You started to tear up. “What was I supposed to do, huh? Stay home? The world was in lockdown, and my anxieties were numerous. I was worried sick about you, and forget me? Graham’s elderly and has health problems!” Your lower jaw began to shake. You were scared for the first time in ages. 

“Sue me, so I left with the Master.” 

Your words rang out but not as intense as they should have.

“Did I really fit in with you at all?” You posed an easy question. Expecting an easy answer.

The tears began to fall freely.

“He’s evil...” She reminded you.

“Does not matter.” You rebutted. 

“He’ll kill you.”

“Whatever.” At this point you began wishing someone would murder you. 

She pivoted and lunged straight at him, “This a big part of your plans? Take my companion and pervert her? Then have her trot out…” she straddled him and grabbed him by the lapels. “Dressed like you dressed her? Huh? What method of mind control-” You went to go save him from the honey badger in blue. 

He began to laugh, not exactly manically, but not exactly mirthfully as well. “Oh, I’ve been more or less avoiding you. Out of respect for my pet.” The tone was taunting and bitter. “You think I wanted to hurt Y/N? Like this? Oof- how little your respect for me, Doctor!” He spit her name out like a fatwa. 

You closed your eyes and began to break. Mentally, you were draining down and physically it felt like you’d received a punch to your guts. You felt spiritually bereft. The Doctor and the Master fighting made you feel like some doll for these virtual children to deal with.

You wished you could pop a valium.

Giving the rest of the Fam an imploring look, you swallowed and gathered yourself up. You hoped your eyes could give them all the apologies and information you needed them to know. That you cared for him and weren’t in trouble. All the facets of you crashing and burning. You were being torn apart, playing a game with your held heart. 

But in the end it was fruitless. So you pulled the two Time Lords off each other, glowering at the two of them.

“I’m going back to the TARDIS.” You gave it your best shot to look commanding and in charge.

You turned around and tried to stalk out with all the bravery you could muster. You couldn’t relate to a happy state, feeling your blood run cold in your ears.

So you ran.

#personal #i wrote this #i made this #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #thirteeth doctor #the master #reader insert #doctor who self insert fiction #fanfic #master x reader #master x you

[ayawriter]

Fever

Characters: Naib&Friends

Summary: Naib falls ill, but decides to deal with it on his own (re: suck it up and ignore it until after matches were over) This causes some complications once he actually participates in a match, and puts his relationships and values into question.

The dining hall was alive with noise, yet none of it reached his ears. Naib silently picked at his food, letting the buzz of conversation wash over him as he slowly lost his appetite. Everything was too loud, and his body was stuck in between feeling fine, and feeling achy. Same with his headache.

“Yo, Naib, you gonna eat that?”

“Hm.”

Naib pushed his plate towards the Forward before standing up, closing his eyes to keep himself from getting dizzy. He opens his eyes and starts to leave when he was called out by a concerned doctor.

“Wait, Mr. Subedar! You’ve barely eaten anything, are you feeling alright?”

Naib huffed inaudibly. He wanted to get back to his room quickly, and sleep until match time. His ears felt stuffed with cotton, his body felt like it was in freezing snow and on fire at the same time, and his nerves were on high alert, throwing his senses into overdrive. He felt before he saw Emily reach out toward him.

“Don’t touch me!” Before he could register what was happening, he had already slapped Emily’s hand away from himself.

The entire dining hall went silent, staring at the two. Naib struggled to keep his breathing in check. Stumbling backwards, he mumbled a quick apology before disappearing towards his room.

The lawyer was the first one to break the silence.

“Hmph. At least it’s finally gotten quiet.”

Emma glanced worriedly at Emily as the doctor sat back down in her seat beside the gardener. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am not hurt. Please, do not worry.”

William, who had turned back to his food at that point, chimed in, “Still, it’s not like him to react like that to anyone, especially someone like Dr. Dyer. I mean, he’s always been kinda spiky, but he never lashed out like that before.”

Martha hummed in thought. “Perhaps It’s stress? He has been participating in the games almost every chance he gets. Which, I’m all for the enthusiasm, but I’m worried he’s going to burn himself out at this rate. Or work himself sick.”

Slowly the noise returned to its previous level, but there was now a tense atmosphere as the survivors worried over their fellow comrade.

—

Naib kept a steady pace back to his room, one hand on the wall to keep himself steady. He sighed. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. Emily was only worried. He’ll have to apologize later.

“Oof.”

“Ah!”

So lost in his own thoughts, Naib didn’t notice the figure rounding the corner. They collided, bouncing off each other and falling on their butts.

“S-sorry…”

Naib looked up once the dizziness subsided to find Aesop’s concerned face staring back at him. Surprisingly, the embalmer was the first to recover. He held out his hand. Naib grabbed it and was helped up.

“Nah, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. Thanks.”

Aesop mumbled a “no problem” and another apology before speeding off. Probably towards the dining hall. Once he turned the corner, Naib started his walk back to his room. He locked the door and flopped down onto the sheets, he didn’t bother taking off his boots or untying his hair. As soon as his body touched the sheets, he was out.

—

   He didn’t know how long he was asleep for before he woke up to an incessant amount of knocking on his door. He groaned, half from being woken up, and half from how sore his body was. He shivered. Was it always this cold in here? Naib opened his door, glaring daggers at whoever it was that woke him. God, his head hurt.

   “Oh, you’re awake.”

   It was the seer.

   “The matching is about to start. I was just wanting to check up on you and make sure you were ready.”

   Despite the smile on his face, Eli was studying Naib with an intense gaze through his blindfold. He didn’t have to rely on his seer abilities to guess that Naib wasn’t in the best shape to be participating in any matches. The mercenary wasn’t necessarily close to other survivors, but the seer had somehow proved himself to be a trustworthy fellow, and maybe even could be considered one of the mercenary’s closest friends.

   “Sure. Just give me a sec.”

   The mercenary left the door to grab his elbow pads before leaving his room and closing the door behind him. He turned to Eli, nodding, and they both made their way towards the matching room. Naib involuntarily shivered again, which did not go unnoticed by Eli. There was a reason he was one of Naib’s best friends.

   “Cold?”

   Naib jumped, which made the seer frown in concern. It was the same as the incident from breakfast. Naib may have a heightened sense of danger, but he was never jumpy, and he never lashed out, unless provoked.

   “What? No. Besides, how can I be cold if it’s already so hot?”

   Hot? Now something was definitely wrong. First the jumpiness, then the shivers, then the claims of the mansion being hot. Sure, it may not be the coolest, but it surely wasn’t as sweltering as Naib seemed to think it was, nor was it cold. Right as they were about to enter the matching room, Eli grabbed Naib’s wrist, pulling him close and placing his other hand onto the mercenary’s face. He wasn’t burning with a fever like he originally thought, but Naib was still too warm to be healthy. There was even a light blush on his cheeks, though whether it was from embarrassment or sickness he wasn’t sure. Eli was struck with a sudden feeling of foreboding.

“Naib,” he started, “I think you should sit this one out. Don’t volunteer. Or if you are chosen, switch with another survivor.”

“…Is it another one of your ‘premonitions’?”

Eli smiled wryly. “I guess you could say that. But it’s more of a gut feeling. You know I can’t exactly “see” anything at the moment.”

Naib studied him for a moment, acknowledging his comments with a hum before opening his mouth.

“I’ll…I’ll think about it.”

Eli watched him walk through the doors into the matching room. With a sigh, he walked in after him, hoping Naib would take his advice. Though he already knew the answer to that.

—

The match started with little incident. As he suspected, Naib ended up participating in the match, ignoring Eli’s warnings, taking the place of Tracy, who had injured her wrist while working on one of her projects, making her decoding skills useless. The final team ended up being Aesop, William, Naib, and Eli.

[Focus on decoding!]

Messages pinged from all directions, and Eli set to work on a cipher nearby. Today’s match was in the Red Church with the Gamekeeper. Eli bit his lip, barely catching one of the calibrations. This is going to be rough. Especially with Naib in his weakened state…A low hoot alerted the Seer of his owl’s return.

“Welcome back, my friend. I’m sorry for giving you so much work, but do you think you can check on Naib for a moment?”

With a nod, the owl took off in the direction of the Mercenary. Meanwhile, Naib was feeling miserable. He started nearby the small hut, which he was thankful for, since it was a strong kiting area. Unfortunately, he kept missing calibration after calibration, which lead the Hunter straight to him.

[The hunter is near me!]

Naib sent the message just as he was about to get hit. Fortunately Eli’s trusty owl had swooped in just in time to block the first hit. Naib sent out a quick message of gratitude, preparing to dash towards the next kiting area when the world started spinning. He had used his dash as usual, but it left him feeling nauseous and forced him to stop and heave. His body was burning, and his shivering became more pronounced.

‘Damn, I can’t stop here. Still got three ciphers left and Bane’s going to catch up any time!’

Naib somehow willed his body to keep his food down and keep running, his breath coming out more like gasps. His body felt like lead. Everything was losing color. The hunter was close enough that he could see the red shadow of his gaze. His heart pounded a vibrant mix of purple and red.  

“Shit–”

Bane’s hook got caught in his hood, pulling him back and forcing him to take a hit. The force of the pull and the blow from the same hook knocked out all the air in his lungs, and caused his to make flips. Before he could register what was happening, he was on his knees, throwing up what little breakfast he had.

Bane froze, stunned. Survivors didn’t usually go down like that when he hit them, especially the Mercenary, who usually takes a few seconds to register the attack completely. Something was definitely up. Somewhat panicked, he decided to try and seek for the other survivors for help.

��

Eli sighed in relief as he was able to block the incoming attack from the Gamekeeper at the last second. He ignored the brief headache caused from taking a hit from a hunter, and continued decoding his cipher. He welcomed the owl back with a good job and a small pat on the head, and popped the machine. In the distance another cipher lit up upon completion. Only three more to go. Only three more to go. Alright, now to go find Naib. Sure the Seer was able to block one attack, but the Mercenary was sick. Eli needed to be there to support him. He immediately left in search of his friend when another cipher popped. Only two more left. He pinged a message to the other two and quickened his pace. A gong sounded.

“Naib!”

Said male’s icon had slowly started to fill up. Eli only prayed he would make it in time. His heart pounded. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Eli almost froze when he saw the hunter approach him, but something was different. The gut feeling came back. The gauge was now completely up to half, showing Naib’s status as “wounded”.

“Eli.”

Strange. The Gamekeeper never used the survivors’ names unless they were outside of the match. Something must have happened.

“Bane, did something happen? Where’s Naib?”

Bane didn’t answer, only motioned for him to follow urgently. Eli didn’t waste any time to comply. He was led to an area where Naib often liked to do his chases.

“Oh god.”

Naib was sitting, leaning heavily against the wall. There was a puddle of bile nearby. The Seer tried not to look, focusing on the unconscious Mercenary. He dropped to his knees, putting a hand to his forehead. He was burning up. Nothing like the slightly warm sensation from before the match. He grit his teeth.

“I told you…Damn it, you’re such an idiot.”

A cipher popped in the distance. Eli and Bane looked at each other, the hunter nodding.

“I still have about a hundred seconds before I can surrender. I suggest you gather your comrades and tell them the situation.”

“Thank you, Bane.”

The hunter nodded.

[Cipher machine primed!]

[Follow me!]

Eli spammed the message in response to William’s own, never once keeping his gaze off his ill friend. It took a while but William and Aesop finally arrived.

“Hey, what’s going on–Holy shit, Gamekeeper! Eli, run!” William ran to tackle the hunter, but was easily evaded.

“Will, stop, now’s not the time.”

“…Naib?”

Aesop’s quiet voice was muffled, but the surprise and concern was clear. He had silently joined the group in the short commotion. William turned and almost did a double take.

“Is…Is he okay–I mean–obviously he’s not–but, like…” William trailed off, but his question was clear.

Eli shook his head, “I’m fairly certain this isn’t anything serious, just a high fever and coughing. He may have also been suffering a bit from nausea.”

After a bout of silence, Ban finally spoke up, “The cooldown’s up. It’s your win.”

“Thank you again, Bane.”

“A match with an ill player is not worth playing,” he eyed the mercenary, currently being held by the Forward. “Next time, lock him up in his room or something before he does something stupid like this. We hunters may not be able to kill you, but things outside of the control of matches can. I shall hunt you when all players are healthy.”

And with that, a message popped up along with Bane’s disappearance, signifying the surrender. The four were transported back to the manor.

“Oh, welcome, back–Oh!”

Emma was the first to greet them, dropping some flowers she had picked from the garden in shock.    “I-I’ll go get Emily right away!”

The four headed to the makeshift “med-bay”, which was really just a large guest room with many beds. William gently laid the Mercenary down on one of the beds. Naib’s face was flushed, his hair sticking to his face slick with sweat. Aesop took care to pull his hair from the usual ponytail to make things more comfortable. The Gardener returned with Emily, who immediately went into work mode, shooing out William, Aesop, and Emma, and leaving Eli to explain the situation. She checked the ill Mercenary for any abnormalities before sighing.

“Well, fortunately, it’s nothing serious. Just a simple flu caused by a mix of stress, exhaustion, and overwork. He should be fine in a couple days if he rests and takes it easy. Even after that, I would recommend staying away from matches for at least a couple more days after recovery. He really has been participating a lot lately, and now that I have had a chance to look him over properly, there are traces of lack of sleep,” She sighed. “It truly was a matter of time.”

Eli nodded. “Thank you, Emily. I don’t know where we would be without you.”

“It is no trouble. I’m just doing my job as the resident doctor.”

“Still, thank you.”

The Doctor only smiled, and let Eli take Naib back to his room.

—

For the next couple days, Eli took turns with his friends and Emily to take care of the sick Mercenary. Fortunately, he was way too delirious with fever to even think about trying to do anything strenuous. He spent most of the time sleeping off the fever, only waking to eat or throw up. After two long days, Naib’s fever peaked before finally breaking. After what seemed like forever, Naib woke up, eyes frantically blinking away the sleep. Eli was beside his bed, reading a book when he noticed Naib awake.

“Good morning, Naib,” he greeted, smiling. “You caused quite a panic, collapsing during a match. And then you’re fever spiked last night…It broke finally.”

Naib brought up an arm to cover his eyes.

“How long was I out.”

“Two days.”

Naib shot up, instantly regretting it as the room spun. He felt gentle hands steadying and supporting him, helping to lean him against the headboard.

“Careful, you just woke up. Don’t strain yourself.”

Naib nodded, trying to wrap his head around the fact that two days had passed with him out of commission. He sighed heavily.

“Still…two days? That’s…”

Too long is what he wanted to say, but one look from Eli made his words die in his throat.

“Naib,” he started, not missing the slight flinch the Mercenary made at his tone, “You had an extremely high fever. You collapsed during the match–a match I specifically told you to sit out of. If it weren’t for Bane’s kindness in throwing the match, you may have been in worse shape–I know the injurines gained in matches are gone afterwards, but the exhaustion and stress doesn’t.”

Naib couldn’t find the words to refute. In hindsight, perhaps he really should have taken it easy. Even if he didn’t volunteer, someone else would have. Then again, maybe not. He’s probably one of the few people who willingly volunteers for matches. At the time, he didn’t want Tracy to play a match with injured wrists, and his body went into autopilot and pressed the volunteer button. Naib hung his head in shame. In his recklessness he had caused problems for his friends and comrades.

“Which leads me to my next concern,” Eli continued, snapping Naib out of his thoughts. “Ever since you arrived, you’ve been playing the game non-stop. I can’t deny that when you play, you truly do seem to enjoy the thrill of the chase, but…it also seems like there’s a desperation to your actions. You almost never escape, and always volunteer in place of another who couldn’t, and you refuse to seek for help. You constantly support us…rescue us, but refuse to accept the same…Do you not trust us?”

This made Naib perk up with shock.

“That’s not true, I–” he paused. Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he actually fully relied on a comrade? “You’re…You’re right…I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just…”

Eli smiled, “You don’t want to burden us because you care too much. Same with the chases. It’s the one time you feel useful, and when you take hits meant for others and let the others escape before you, it’s the same. You’d rather be the sacrifice than sacrifice another.”

Naib perked up.

“Haha, by that reaction, I guessed right.” He sat down on the bed, a hand on his head and pulling him into a hug. “You’re not alone. Don’t try to shoulder the burden by yourself.”

They stayed like that for a bit longer, before they pulled apart. Eli stood up abruptly.

“Alright! It’s almost time for breakfast. Everyone was worried, so why don’t we head down once you’ve changed?”

Naib stared for a moment before a small smile spread across his face.

“Yeah.”

Eli turned to leave.

“And Eli,” Naib paused as Eli looked back, “Thanks…for everything. I’ll need to thank the other guys too.”

Eli smiled wide, “It’s what friends do. We lean on and help each other. Don’t forget that.”

Naib nodded and waited for Eli to exit the room before changing. Really, he’s found some great comrades–no–friends. And he’s vowed to protect each and every one of them with his life.

#identityv #idv #fever #mentions of voimt #naibsubedar #eliclark #Mercenary #seer #bane/gamekeeper is a fair hunter #snippets of Emily and Emma #Aesop and William are also there #ANEW mentions #cameos from Martha and lawyer #eli is team mom #naib needs a hug #naib needs friends

[audramh]

All Along

/ one-shot AU of Sam and Cait /

Inspired by a recent post on how different things could have -- and should have -- been, if Outlander had been everyone’s focus and there was no narrative.

She was awake, and she was cold.  The flat was quiet, save her husband’s rhythmic breathing. He slept under both sheet and duvet, leaving her very little of either.  How very few people on this earth knew he was a cover hog, she thought, and yet those same people would be quick to call it endearing. She rolled her eyes and glanced at the alarm on her side of the bed:  12:47am. She should be asleep too.  Their driver would be here in less than seven hours. There would be time spent in wardrobe and hair, and she dreaded the extra concealer that awaited her if she showed up with dark circles. Still, here she lay, more pensive than sleepy. Might as well try a change of scenery. She grabbed her phone for company.

She slipped out of bed and quietly padded to the kitchen. Maybe just a quick dram of the whisky samples they’d been trying out. She opened the highest cupboard where they were stored, well out of a curious toddler’s reach. There were eight glass decanters, all devoid of labels. They were simply marked A through H to remove any preconceived notions of depth and flavor as they sampled and compared characteristics, whittling them down to what would become the Great Glen signature flavor profile. She’d enjoyed a smooth one she’d tried the other day, but which was it?  A? C? The low level of bottle G was all she needed as proof that one was heavy on peat smoke. His favorite. Compromising, she chose bottle B and poured.

She sat down at the table, sipped her whisky, pulled up Instagram, and scrolled back several years. Perhaps comforting memories would lull her back to sleep. A photo from their chemistry test, all the way back in 2013. It was this very post that piqued fans’ curiosity and led to the season 3 DVD extra. She was giddily nervous, he was sweating profusely. “That was YOUR fault”, he told her much later. It had hit him as soon as she walked in and shook his hand: he’d spent 34 years as half of the whole he never knew he could be. She took longer to get there, not wanting to succumb to such a cliché as falling in love with one’s costar, but it was pointless. Giving into it had lent authenticity not only to her life but to her character as well. By the time she delivered the line “This isn’t usual” on camera, she had long since meant it. She scrolled to the photo of them taken that day, on a tartan atop a mountain, on his birthday. That was the day he said “I love you” for the first time:  his present to himself was to know that he’d told her.

A photo of their hands, her engagement ring prominently featured. She’d captioned it simply: “Yes.” Nearly 10K comments on that post. Congratulations and best wishes from family, friends, fans, cast and crew, network executives. They hadn’t known what to expect, but an outpouring like this was beyond their imagination.  A photo from PaleyFest 2015, where Ron Moore had to rein in Kristin Dos Santos’ excitement to get her to focus back on the show itself. Their wedding photo, minus the kilt so many Outlander fans had expected to see. Their misplaced shock and furor was short-lived, thankfully. After all, it wasn’t Jamie and Claire’s wedding day;  it was theirs.  

The photo of Eddie, asleep, next to a pair of baby booties. The caption was all her husband’s idea:  to be honest by telling fans the Droughtlander between seasons 2 and 3 would be slightly longer than anticipated, asking for patience as they worked on “a very important personal project together”, and promising to share updates now and then. She had to admit: it was inspired. She scrolled to the photo she’d taken looking down at her growing bump, which was also helping to support a cup of tea. A photo of their newborn daughter’s feet. A nursing photo taken by her husband (she was no shrinking violet where functions of the human body were concerned, and besides:  his protective instincts ensured it was tastefully done.)

Either the memories or the whisky kicked in, and she knew sleep would come. She put her empty glass in the sink, closed out Instagram, and quietly retraced her steps. Through the living room, past their gleaming awards:  an Emmy for each (his for season 1, hers for season 2), and a Golden Globe (also his, for season 1.) Beaming with pride, she returned to bed. He didn’t wake, but instinctively curled toward her in sleep, enveloping her with his body. Luckily, she was able to get enough of the sheet and duvet to combat his ice-cold feet. God Almighty. He might well look like Jamie Fraser, but his cold feet always gave him away. A minute later, she felt the rhythm of her breathing match his and drifted off.

She was in Albrecht’s office being lectured, along with her husband, about jeopardizing his investment. The show. The largely female fanbase. She couldn’t wrap her head around what he was saying:  he’s upset that we fell in love for real? Other executives chimed in, two corporate attorneys produced a drafted deal to quash their relationship. Publicly, at least. Legally it was binding, so they had no power to undo it. But God, this felt crazy. She looked at her husband, saw his strong chin quiver, and tried to steady him by rubbing his back before the strain got the better of her and she leaned forward to shield her face with her hands. Shock. Her face was going numb. This is shock. Breathe. Try to breathe. Stern voices gave way to yelling. The air in the room was suffocating with coercion.  Now she was being interviewed. She heard herself saying they were “not together”. She was saying it on camera! She was denying their marriage! Avoiding eye contact at all costs. Trying to hold herself in check. Now another sound bite:  she was calling the show’s fans “horny grannies”. Why was she doing this?! And Captain Kirk was shaming and attacking their fans on Twitter? This made no sense. They’d never even met him. Now she was on the red carpet with… her assistant, Tony? She looked down and saw not HER engagement ring, but a thoughtless substitute. And no wedding band at all. Where was her husband? She scanned up ahead until she found him, standing a little too close to a blonde. They seemed to move together in a pair. Ill-matched, to be sure, and he wasn’t being overly attentive, but nonetheless a pair they seemed to be. He didn’t make eye contact with his wife. She couldn’t even be sure he knew she was there. And now she saw herself in frilly, frumpy, shapeless clothes. She could see she was trying to hide her pregnancy. Why? Why would she do this? She loved being pregnant. Had they forced her to do this? To feel shame at growing a life inside her? What followed were flashes of hiding from public view when together. Secrecy. Never wearing their wedding bands. Never holding hands. Never standing too close at work events. Reining in their famously open-mouthed kisses on camera for good measure. Hiding. Pretending. Hurting. Lying.

She bolted awake with a loud gasp, which woke her husband. “OH my God”, she burst out. His hand went to her bare shoulder, then to her cheek and forehead. “You’re in a cold sweat, love. What have you dreamt?” She propped herself up, got her breathing under control, accepted his hand when he offered it, and answered:  “It was all a lie. All of it.” Even in the darkness, she saw him briskly shake his head in an effort to understand. “What? What was a lie?” She remembered it vividly enough to tell him that she dreamt they’d been forced to hide it all. Their relationship. Their marriage. Their life. Their love. He was becoming more awake as she explained, and confusion had given way to comfort. “Babe, come here.” He pulled her to him, smoothed her hair away from her sweaty hairline, and told her the truth she knew but still needed to hear:  “Shhh. It’s alright. We’re at home. Our home. You’re wearing your wedding ring, and so am I.  Same as ever. We’ve been public all along. Everyone knows." She’d relaxed into his words, spoken comfortingly in a near-whisper, and allowed them to sink in.  “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She exhaled deeply. “One thing:  stay away from blondes, you hear me?” She sank into the shape of his body as he curled around her once more. “Blondes have never been my type and you know it.” He smiled and kissed her earlobe. “Go back to sleep, love.”

The next thing she knew, it was daylight. Their daughter leapt onto the bed, forcing space between them and plopping on her back. The airy duvet made a slight whoosh in response, and she placed her tiny hand on top of her Da’s open palm. He snapped his fist around hers like a Venus fly trap: their unspoken language that her tall, strong Da would always make her feel safe and give her his protection.  She rewarded him with a high-pitched squeal as she always did. The three of them lay together for a bit. Da’s eyes had gone shut again, but his large hand hadn’t let up around their toddler’s. Their beautiful, blue-eyed girl with morning-mussed hair. Everything about this version of their life felt real again as she rolled toward the center of the bed and smoothed her daughter’s hair behind her ears and kissed her forehead.  

“Mam?”

That lovely word sounded like a single-syllable symphony to her ear.  “Yes, my darling?”

“Brudder pooped.”

#samcait #au #one shot #sam x cait #better together #obviously